Long Trilogy Poems
Long Trilogy Poems. Below are the most popular long Trilogy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trilogy poems by poem length and keyword.
One voice was a woman’s
One was a man’s
One was deep dark of genderless land
They picked me apart
Like psychological vultures
Tearing at my heart
Using my bones as foundation for sculpture
The things they’d scuff and say
Were critical and painted my brain black
Coating my thought was afraid
Could never claw my way back
Back to the land of vanity and sanity
For surely these voices are not in humanity
They seem like a panel of consciousness
Like a trilogy of reigning gods so hopeless
If I ate they glared at me
From a deep dark sea
With eyes that seem to have teeth
Red ripping at my peace
The voices were real in my head
Shrill and devoid of hope so dead
That only thing I could beg
Was let me sleep in peace instead
Then there was healing medication
That sent them one by one on vacation
It was as if the Lord Jesus Christ
Stepped in a dark room turns on light
The voices like gray phantoms flee
Did I have hope for this feeling
For I was so sad and literally mad you know
But deep down there in my somber soul
God mined me creating silver and gold
No longer a mute shell of ill repute
Despite being smite afflicted and spooked
I became a new creature a candle
A light the voices couldn’t handle
But first God had to break me
I felt lost like God did hate me
But was love now that I know
That refined and mined my soul.
Wonder-stricken moments inspire
In an arena rife with engaging voices
A mecca for eclectic choices
Sharing muses, a communal desire
Men and women of words demasked
Thoughts described with stark imagery
Biblical verses so sweet, epitaphs, trilogy
Raw realization well penned as tasked
Bawdy limerick, narrative stories so illusive
Metered, acrostic, ten times ten, dizain
Couplets, two lines, four stanzas quatrain
Haikus, senryu’s, etherees, tight and inclusive
Stories told of life and death, love, sublime
Emersed in a cabaret, poets of Renaissance
Roused by your words and every nuance
An honor to be amongst you masters of rhyme
I found you by mere chance a stroke of luck
Chosen to witness your genius, I’m awestruck
In Honor Of Poetry Soupers
P.S. I Love You
Written 2/21/22
Garden of the Moon
adore the sun, some do
moonlight's song and memories
for a poet like you
where purest star-shine
doth in your soul so sparkle
sleep, meant not for you
dark stillness, moves you
daunting, deep, soul dimensions
your heart found it's home
July 15, 2020
5:00am PST
THE WORM
The worm that tugs at leaf
inverts the blade of grass,
lengthens its coil, enriches the soil.
The earth’s weight bears upon it
like the gravity of its blind world.
Its wefting ways warp the velour of lawn.
Long-drawn bluntness gaining ground
in low-geared, segmented progress.
Indispensable, deliberate, tardy work:
aerating oceans of soil over aeons of time.
THE BLACKBIRD
On the lawn, the tar-feathered blackbird
surveys its territory with springy hops;
pauses spasmodically, listens to
its feather-brained instincts.
Swift as thought (a leap, a bound, a rush)
the thrush jabs its amber beak,
like a brimstone pointed arrow,
pecking and gashing at subterranean stirrings.
It pulls and reels, wrenching the worm
from its obscure socket with electric energy.
THE CAT
On the wall, mesmerised by the hubbub,
by the bobbing beak of the blackbird,
flattening its feline form, cat’s eyes
regard the scene with lethal patience.
In perfect poise, shifting its body weight,
padded paws set the mechanics of a spring
and with split-second timing, the mortal fell
stained with red the perfect blackness of a wing.
Later, the cat will saunter to the wall
and perch where the blackbird used to sing.
The wind is blowing gently
as the trees sways with grace
I take each step carefully,
keeping a steady pace
I scour the filed, not knowing where to go
hopping left, jumping and running right
hoping to find a wonderful sight
And then there was ‘you’
I rub my eyes to be sure.
Behold! your beauty’s still as pure
This is not a dream isn’t it?
Nor an illusion... Or is it?
My body felt numb as I freeze
I badly want to run to you
As the grass dances with the breeze
My heart longs to be with you
And you take a step, walking with finesse
Your face is a picture of surprise
And when you smile, I am in bliss
Oh! how I miss those pretty eyes
And then you stop right in front of me
You scoop me up and hug me tightly
Though I can’t clearly hear what you say
Your laughter tells me that you’re happy
I hope I can speak to say ‘ I’m sorry’
For days I’ve put you in misery
Believe me, I felt the same way
Being away from you is not easy
I’ve long for freedom but it was lonely
Oh! It was fun at first it’s true
But, forgive me it took time for me to realize
My real home is “YOU”
Now, how we start is kinda blurry
I just can’t remember it all clearly
But one thing I’m sure you see...
Our happy ending is certain to me
--- END ----
This is the 3rd poem I wrote for BUNNY trilogy.
1st poem is titled : BUNNY AND ME
And the 2nd one: WHAT FREEDOM COST ME
Please take some time to read the other poems I wrote.
Appreciate you all.
It’s rather odd
That I woke up pretty early this Saturday morning
It’s rather odd
That I awoke from my indescribable dream, filled with mysteries
It’s somewhat peculiar
That I enjoy being a teenager—now I could do whatever I want and when I want!
But that’s selfish of me, huh? Ha-ha like I care…psh!
It’s rather alarming
That I awoke from a motivating dream without the alarm going off
But that was only a coincidence…I think!
It’s rather startling
That I aced a test in my Algebra 1 class and…
Yet I failed the class miserably…so I have to take Algebra over again! GREEAT!
It’s rather startling
That I faced my past fears and…
Now I don’t appear to look like a fool anymore…or do I?
My startling moment was
When I noticed that I had an acting talent!
My startling moment was
When I noticed I had a writing ability too…
My startling moment was
When I composed my own song—now that’s awesome!
My startling moment was
When I heard that my brother was going to be kicked out of the house!
My startling moment was
When I did my piano practice on my own—now that’s tricky!
My startling moment was
When I noticed that I had suicidal thoughts…
I had horrible experiences while facing this problem…DX
My last startling moment was…
Uhh, I totally forgot…
What was my last startling moment if you know?
Oh!! I know! I know!
When I first created my main characters in my future trilogy! ?
Leading The Way With Your Blessed Amazing Grace!
Inspiring blessed God: "Trinity of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit."
Inter-connectedness of the most gracious Triune Creator of life.
Good Friday to Easter Sunday requires rolling the stone away
Erasing life's sting with everlasting resurrection inspirational grace.
Judas symbolizes Goliath to many in opposition of their faith
We believe in doing all things through Your omnipotent strength.
Doubt was never meant to be an aversion in Your kingdom
The shining path of light illuminates the way to Your holy ground.
An inspiring vision of not turning back stimulates enhancing spirits
Removing dark clouds for the arriving golden sun rays at dawn.
Darkness only last for a moment in time for resting the body
Gathering valuable thoughts of great news to share along the way.
With love, self-discovery, and stimulation of the senses, we embrace
You’re leading the way, and we're abiding with Your loving grace!
Author's Notes: This "Blessed Trinity" poetry form meets all the requirements. It displays a foundational thesis. The theme is evident. It surpasses the octave length of eight lines and is written in a sonnet format. The rhyming scheme is absent. The trilogy is evident with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Hindrances are defeated, and the journey ends in abiding grace!
~Nazguls~
(Free Verse)
If ever there was a day
when the song of men
and elves
were to disappear
From the face of Middle Earth
and the hearts and minds of
elves dwarves and men
it was at this time of sorrow
They were once
nine Kings who
were great and mighty
But then from the
Black shadows rose
Sauron and the power of the Ring
they wouldn't be able
to resist
So one by one
they were drawn to its power
and one by one
they fell
And now they ride
ceaselessly
searching for the
most Precious the Ring of Power
The one that their dark
Master wants it
just to possess it
to conquer and to smite with it.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2015
April.8.3015
Authors notes:
-From my very extensive poetry collection and poems inspired by the LOTR trilogy and the Hobbit books and movies-
When we plant a leaf,
we do not think where its life will come from.
We go counting and rejoicing our loves effort,
because at some point,
we think there is a turning point to this wheel.
There is this unexpected desire.
We are told that love is solid when it is chilled.
It quickly turns liquid
and we find ourselves with air that has wings.
Cosmic loneliness travels on the strongest hands.
They say "when the world hears you loud and clear,
become little again and wash your mortal face."
I heard "tremble with the sea and cover your little shades."
They have also told me to wait and steam my truth,
Evaporate into an easier accent, whatever that means.
Authentically searching for beauty,
One should not wait to yield the rising sun when
the moveless imaginations become real.
Trees that rest on the same metal as the waters
borrow gardens from the universe to be themselves.
And they remember to descend from outrage
when planting a leaf: a humble plant that listens to the news.
These are the news, title "an eternal cosmic heartbreak."
Bones begin to chant in one pure voice.
Why is a faith noise that transcends into a broken figure?
A substance without fruit with a Godly
understanding of how the rain bathes.
When we love we visit our lover`s inner realms.
We move our lips to roots and manifest our worth
until we restore unknown museums, drinking all the waters.
Listening to orchestra`s sing the ether out until we lose our breaths.
{XM}
Leaves and Garden, Published 2019 by Active Muse. Also available in my book Talk Like a Painting: Social Apes Trilogy.
Active Muse:link:http://www.activemuse.org/Vasant_2019_poems/Bernice_Mannie.html
Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Talk-like-Painting-social-trilogy/dp/1093118938
Honestly, I am so in my feels today. If you are reading this, my love extends to you. Ok, lets goo... I wrote some of this poem outside. I am writing outside more often, exploring my body with my literature. The nature, agriculture here feels blissful, (you), yes YOU should come visit if you need some nature feels in your life when it is safe.
______________________
17 October 2020, Mpumalanga (Nelspruit).
We walked out of the sun.
While growing the paint of his absence
I missed the brushstrokes of his brightness.
I attempted to grab the eclipse.
The presence grew on me that I swept our land
but when we spoke,
a cosmopolitan tongue glows when
it reaches home but when he drinks water...
My body praises his hymn in forests.
I see how these rays are of another life.
Maybe the Earth decorates better when it rains
but I need discipline to only have his thirst.
My anorexic scent, depth that dampens my breaths
As if protecting my climate,
his heartbeat travels into my indigeneous driveways
but while I wait,
all I can do is blow a wish to our stars.
Yet this time apart pulls me to naked quiet.
Deep and inside his gaze,
We understood and walked back inside our sun.
Here is a link to my book, you share yours? cool.
Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Talk-like-Painting-social-trilogy/dp/1093118938