Long Universes Poems

Long Universes Poems. Below are the most popular long Universes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Universes poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member immersed

oh …

imagine the hues …
the shades and shapes and colors -
the breadth of light and exquisite beauty
that blind people …
SEE …
think of the music, untranscribed and emotive,
that those without hearing spin
within their minds …
for though we feign superiority,
we ‘normal’ folk are limited by
the constricted boundaries of our senses -
imprisoned by faculties …
but those without the definitions of
actuality, are utterly free in the
scope of their incalculable curiosities …
pray, have you ever wondered what
fanciful worlds exist for those
without confines?
insights, thoughts, visions, and songs that
are created in intellects sans limits -
wondrous realms with no borders -
skies with horizons that never end
beauty with no definitions or sine qua non
and love …
oh, envision a love as pure -
truly without condition, purlieu, requirement …
or end …
there are so many astounding universes that
exist within our own -
that are seen without eyes
heard without ears
and known …
without a single thought … or touch …
this life is a teeming sea of possibility
and the only hems are the
ones we sew ourselves …
so,
the next time you reach a wall …
or a door …
or a loss … or heartbreak
close your eyes -
see that un-black ocean of light and energy
listen to the music of your imagination
reach your heartstrings out
beyond the horizon …

and wonder!


Premium Member In the labyrinth of time, where shadows spread their dark wings

In the labyrinth of time, where shadows spread their dark wings,
My thoughts float like ripples on a silent river, gliding among lost dreams,
The air breathes through the mist like ghosts, dancing on the edge of the abyss,
Humanity, sleepwalking towards oblivion, between skyscrapers and shattered illusions.
With eyes closed, hearts wrapped in logos and neon ephemera,
You sing melancholy melodies on chords of clay, runes that cry out at sunset,
The skies bend under the weight of irony, under the devastating healing of silence,
Born in fields of gold, bound to the earth that breathes forgetfulness.
Rivers of hope pour into an ocean of illusions,
I feel the years pass, like pages of paper, yellowed and torn by the cold wind of consumption,
A macabre dance under the light of advertisements, choirs of digital sirens,
The sleep of reason gives birth to dreams of iron and concrete, while the heart weeps burdened.
Among the ruins of dreams, among the great cathedrals of greed,
Unfinished paintings remain, skeletons of ideas that were never reborn,
I, you, we - prisoners in our own labyrinths of illusions,
Wondering if awakening will ever find us.
Your eyes, corners of unexplored universes,
I breathe the whispers of time, buried under the dust of reality,
A world dressed in brand cloaks, in cemeteries of dreams,
And I wonder, always wonder, when we will begin to dream again – together.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

If That Wasn't Love, Then What Were We?

They tell me
“You’re too young to know what love is.”  
Like love waits for a driver's license,  
like it needs a mortgage and a 401k to be real.  

But if I don’t know love,  
then what were we?  

What was the way my breath caught when your hand brushed mine, like my lungs forgot their only job?  
What was the way my name sounded different in your mouth,  
like it was never meant to be spoken by anyone else?  

Was it just “infatuation” when we built universes in late-night whispers,  
spun futures from fingertips tracing circles on skin,  
stitched our souls together like we had forever to mend the seams?  

They say love is patience,  
love is wisdom,  
love is something you only understand when you’ve paid bills and lost enough people to know it hurts.  

But love is also reckless,  
wild,  
a fire that doesn’t check its own temperature.  
And if we burned 
God, did we burn
does that make it less real?  

Because if that wasn’t love,  
then tell me why your absence still sits heavy in my chest,  
why the echoes of us haven’t faded,  
why the ash of the fire from the bridges we burned still sits in my mind  

If I don’t know love,  
then what were we?  
Because whatever we were
it still haunts me.

To Sir With Gratitude

fair glinting gold

                   light shining bold

                        this I saw

                     for my 'flaw' is to be

                     not of your world

              Into the breech I was hurled

                   before your times were told

              ere I was an aeon old

              I changed Universes - yet

                 here, I was in darkness jet.

                    when again I rose

                    in biped pose

              to complete the task
 
                began, before your form thought to ask

                       Whence came we here?

              Your light came just in time

                 shimmered thru deepest despair

             A human mind gave to me

              a beckoning seed of desire to see

                  another day, in limited heartlost society

                Whence before  was only my desire to flee.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Below the veil of twilight, memories sway in the moon's oaring

Below the veil of twilight, memories sway in the moon's oaring,
Effigies of the departed rise like incense smoke amongst ruins.
They have sprinkled us with pale dreams, and now, flowers of forgetfulness in the yard,
Whisper silver epitaphs on the wall of the mind, like a gentle incantation.
Their vestiges, constellations of gestures, spin in my universe,
Forming a firmament of moments that beyond eternity have not set.
Echoes of shared laughter fold into the curtain of the evening,
And embraces, like arched bridges between two universes, end in mystery.
They sowed habits, a mosaic of aromas in the blooming garden of my soul,
Which in depths, strange and impenetrable, have yet to know the abyss of oblivion.
In a hush, they speak, sweet phantoms, in chambers where their shadow still lies,
Chambers where the echoes of their steps lay down a leaf-carpeted corridor in a palace of silence and peace.
In life's testament, we note with pen moments and belongings, thoughts, and dreams,
But in the tapestry of fingerprints we share lies the true value of chosen wisdoms.
We write upon the canvas of the universe with the unstained finger of fate,
For in our essence, in the blood that has blossomed, remains forever the same ennobled signature.
And thus, on our path along the silver thread of existence,
Our stellar gazes captured in a portal to endless other dimensions,
We sing with the voice of nature, in that song of eternal truth, unswerving,
Our sound, a whisper of wind in the evergreen foliage, bearer of old and new deeds of kindness.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.


MORE

More and more we want, we want it all and then more. 
More food, more money, more fun, more love, more sun. 
More is a desire, it makes us want to work toward somethings, it gives us motion to move and push ahead. 
More of the earth, and then the moon maybe then to the universes end. 
More can be like an energy process, it keeps us wanting to run for all the stuff we want. 
More and more, can feel heavy, we can become tired from all the want, so sit and enjoy, the simple life, let the thirst for more get quenched. 
Like the earth, it drinks the rain, we too can be like the earth and feel good with the rain. 
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Form: Rhyme

Dreams of the Unconscious Mind

Are our dreams linked to those travelling stars,
or to unseen things with which prophecy connects?
Our destinies are assigned to each natal sign
as dreams of the unconscious mind are revealed
at night when senses are overtaken by sleep.

Dreams of embellished forms subdue me entirely
and contained in a space of restrictive movement,
I float to the multi-colored cosmos like clouds
pushed by active forces in the low stratosphere 
and land wherever they command me to dream. 

In that black hole where more stars will form,
there's no awareness, only a conceivable fret 
and exceeding the limits of other universes,
not as small as ours, my longing is to return.

And the unconscious mind travels though long bends 
and spheres of intense brightness and immense stupor; 
Earth appears as a glowing dot seen from a million of miles,
there I still lay sleeping while the warbling sounds of awakening 
larks bring me back to a visceral consciousness temporarily lost.

A Pure Mind So Unspoiled By Sinful Thoughts

Imitation of unmerited personality can be called
envy when its impact disrupts the daily routine
of an individual who's not happy for anything good
given to him by God: is it a mere lack of fortitude?
 
Find me a pure mind so unspoiled by sinful thoughts,
it's a surprising rarity to encounter one that matches
such a quality instilled into the obedient souls of angels
faithful to their Maker presiding over them with holiness.

Being born naked and innocent is as brief as a momentary breath,
years to God are minutes but eternity awaits us if we choose it
in our quest for salvation to discover other universes beyond it;
we aren't confined to complicated tasks relating only to our earth.

Your search among roving wolves can be a dangerous gape,
never be their prey, however incessant seems their frightening howling;
whisper the psalms that David wrote: they are your escape
from the trap set up by those malicious folks with an agonizing gnawing.

Should a pure mind so unspoiled by sinful thoughts swerve
from commitment: would it deserve harsh punishment,
or reprimand? Who oversees our conscience God or guilt?
Brace for fear and despair if nothing conveys deligence.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Farewell To the Flying Feather

Wherefrom did you fly? Who sent you here? I do not, lo, know.
You, as though by chance, fell on my palm from out of the blue.
I, like a little child perplexed by a bubble, did glow.
We stood still for a while. Calm! The tempo of the breeze grew.
 
You were a rainbow. Amalgamated all the colors!
I felt like the blessings of the divine kingdom were here.
Had not we, though for a short moment, stood as true lovers?
The breeze, like a storm or a tempest, soon altered its gear.
 
I held my palm tight. You're my heart. Who wants to lose their heart?
The tempest turned into a gale, a squall, and a typhoon.
I felt like my physique and psyche were getting torn apart.
Ah! I lost my lovely Maat, the feather-goddess boon...
 
You might not know that I, too, am a feather.
Accepting each little feather as a weathercock;
They come and go. Trust the lighthouse as much as the weather.
I wait each minute for the tinkling of my childhood clock.
 
Farewell, my friend; you're free. I cannot just imprison you.
Many universes and galaxies, you must, sure, know;
Flying from here, I'll meet you. The heavens know this. It's true.
I'll hug you to my heart. We must still, like fresh streams, flow!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Light To Like

My eyes were shut enthroned
              Placed in the darkness
        Nevertheless encrypted under my eye lids
              Trapped under instilled encapsulated darkness
        But to my dismay,  radiance
               Always I hear the sweet whispers say
        I opened my eyes and I saw the light
               Then I prayed, GOD, Lord Jesus you are the light
A Light to Like
        For I know that standing still, and walking in the light is so right
               This is so right
A Light to Like
               We will together, forever be involved captured embraced in the light
        For you are my God brighter than universes than suns everything in site
               My, my, my, Lord my God 
You are " A Light to Like "

Written by James Edward Lee Sr©2017
July 15 2017
Dedicated to Julia Ward

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