Long Unknown Poems
Long Unknown Poems. Below are the most popular long Unknown by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unknown poems by poem length and keyword.
By the white-bleached shrines of the exiled,
the clan—Eden’s aftermath—broke in despair,
the distance to the next pasture too far.
A weight settled in their chests,
a collective yearning to sink into the soil’s embrace,
to be still until the quiet returned and the will could mend.
They dispersed beneath the trees in fragile constellations,
like migratory birds grounded.
Ibex on high paused to observe them,
some upon the ridges, others lower down,
drawn by the sorrow woven through their speech.
Obedient children took the few remaining herds
to browse upon the sparse and brittle grasses,
a tender offering to their parents’ weary hearts.
And so they moved into the open light.
Under a solitary myrrh tree,
its foliage a living green,
a boy sat upon a great stone,
the sand below still holding the coolness of yesterday’s rain.
Clad in a skirt,
his robe drawn over his head and shoulders,
he sheltered his bare chest from the sun’s gaze.
He raised a five-holed gobeys to his lips.
Its voice, sharp yet of the earth,
carried the weight of ages,
a melody heavy with old grief,
conjuring images of men and camels
kneeling upon the bushy, parched land,
weeping for reasons unknown yet known to the heart,
before gathering themselves to stand once more.
Five black-headed sheep encircled him,
one a ewe suckling her young.
Farther off, a hundred others grazed.
His song was the only sound
that carried across the serene silence.
And there they stayed throughout the day,
listening from a distance to the boy’s chant,
and to the earth’s own song,
feeling their hearts slowly kindle
with the descent of the sun,
as the world softened into coolness about them.
THEY MARCHED* for miles in blistering heat
THEY MARCHED with nothing to drink or eat
THEY MARCHED as soldiers, Filipinos alike,
THEY MARCHED over trails others had hiked
BLOOD FILLED the path of those who balked
STOPPING MEANT death--thus, they walked
THEY MARCHED through mud caked to the thighs
THEY MARCHED on stones and hills that rise
SOME DROPPED from heat and thirst combined
SOME FROM slashes to throats from behind
THEY MARCHED together or marched alone
THEY MARCHED and marched into the unknown
Present-Day WSMR Bataan Death March Memorial
Each windy March over mountainous paths,
men and women brave Spring's gusty raths
Military groups join those walking alone--
a veteran in wheelchair, pushed by his son.
For exercise class, short march is their pick
others, with heavy packs, march twenty-six
Almost ten thousand from around the world
Many with their banners proudly unfurled.
Some view it a contest, some endurance test,
some view it a chance to perform their best.
Finally, they do it to honor those souls
who marched to death in war's bitter tolls.
*In April, 1942, approximately 20,000 New Mexico Guardsmen, from
all branches of service, and 50,000 Filipinos, were force-marched 66
miles across Bataan Island by the Japanese military near the end of
WW2. They endured extreme hardship and no food or liquid. 16,900
died during the march. Many others later died of dehydration or star-
vation. They are honored each year with a march. Often, many Japanese
join the march.
Shhh! Comes night, time tunnel enters
into my mind at rapid speed ;
and from the click of the dream weaver
my body is brought to nowhere land :
out there, a galaxy hangs beyond clouds
as unknown strangers pop, following
my footsteps on through darkened byway...
A Lady In White grips my quivering hands;
her face eyeless as if in a ghastly trance,
this trance costing my soul to rip in awe:
I bleed non-stop , yelling upon a rope
of thorns as foggy shadows flutter.
Pulsing , the Lady assaults this subconscious
fog living inside my id, my ego , as if
to wake past thoughts needing release
but denying final closure from deep hurt.
Lo, phantom come, breathe out the fear.
For Line Gauthier's Contest: A Stunner January 2018
3/16/2018
MARTY KING
it has been a long time
you decided to drown in an unknown body of water
it feels good to know that you are okay
i guess you felt that you had to move on
where did our love go wrong
i choose not to ask you that and focus on the here and the now
you are looking good, and i see the ring
SHENIKA SIMS
it has been a long time
you decided to be a statue with a number in home's normalcy
it feels good to know that you are still happy continuing in continuum
i guess you felt that maintaining a legacy of maintenance is what you had to do
our love was split into different directions by changes in time, wants, and needs
i choose to be happy to see you and focus on the here and the now
you are looking good, and i see the contentment in your eyes
MUSIC
The rythme progresses through me
Reaching to depths unknown
Leading me to another realm
Only I have ever gone
A place of solitude
Where I can be free
For my soul is the melody
To which I shall dance alone
And the beat is my life walk
Opening the walls that have never been shown
Oh how I love to sing
Especially when I hear that old familiar
That takes me back to the day
That I could just proceed along
No cares, no worries, just me and the world
Being free...... to my song
How many memories are wrapped up within tones
That have touched our lives
How many people can we recall
With just one sharp# climb
Or with just one flat fall
The power of our melody is our own
No one can hum it
No one can take it
Because our life walk is our song
We can take this empowerment as high as we want
Or we can take it to the lows
No matter how we play it
It still grows
With each and every encounter
Down our blessed path
The music follows
With our every step
So embrace your sharps and flats
Knowing that it is helping you
Through this turbulent ride
Sing it loud and don't be ashamed
For your song knows you are doing your best
Don't let the bar line tell your ending
Keep the melody flowing
Continue your lines without cares
And when your curtain rides low
And the rythmes come to a sway
Just look at the pages before
To where you started from
And to how you have become so much more today
Keep the music alive....even with a hummm
I searched through and through just to find it.
Looked among varying variables, while holding my love's coefficients to multiply with.
I summed up my expressions, ready to find the term
that could be my constant, in the midst of the unknown.
I believed in her geometric prowess.
With the leap of faith, we passed the "sine's," "cosine's," and "tangent's" tests.
The timing was "right-angled"; our thoughts perpendicular.
Yet even as our lines converged, we sought for an equation that would hold us.
She was a ray with infinite possibilities, bending into an arc that waited completion.
My thoughts gravitated towards the center of her attention.
The radius shifted, while the diameter surrendered to the pull of my committed circumference.
A story without an end had begun, circling the horizons of forever.
How could one simultaneously find the root to my happiness without logarithms?
And at the same time, nature, my emotional "parabolas"?
Breaking down every layer of my instability,
by factorising the matrix of my building blocks?
Well, your guess is as good as mine.
She was a mother by nature; "mother-nature" gave to safeguard my heart with the "parenthesis" of care.
There was no calculation that could prove it, yet I was certain.
I needed no probability to determine she was the one.
I was incomplete without her (X) factor.
My (Y) stood in isolation, until I became a function of her unfathomable love.
A derivative that shifted the sails of my destiny.
And I lay myself down upon the lifeless patch to somehow contemplate
Looking at the darken Heaven before me… my darkness awaits
My personality has redefine me in an unrecognised absolution
Of my world, of The Ancients… who am I in definition?
It took me so long to find a place in my world as today
How I wonder, can my salvation be found anymore anyway?
And I took to the skies, beyond all of which that matters most
Is there anymore this one dream… I am to feel fairly as close}
My thoughts were left with dreams
Thinking of Ei-rian and of the forsaken words
What more is life of mine to mean?
Is my time not bestowed enough of the weird?
With memories channeling me always to the distance
My once life as Knight of the Word, I’m never to forget
Yet in relative to my mortality, I’m fuelled with reasons
To be doubtful in most every way for morrows to regret
Alkaiya whom now I’m free to love, but I cannot
For the greater good if ever to have exist if not at all
Battles of the mind, forever is another war be fought
I wonder if goodness in exchange is worth fighting for?
Rather to fear for Ei-rian then the laws of Heaven
Her casualness appalls me in ways indecipherable and unknown
If only memories have had its way to simply unlearn!
My guess would be either here or there, I will no longer be lone!
Where is real to really be considered reality?
Is everything an illusion, as well for love to feel?
Was there a yesterday as of today to have a moment?
Where is the time whence to know… I knew…
……………………………………………
Out of the Richness of the Soul
The Father of Creation compassionate made man;
He is the Creator of us All
He created every living, breathing, moving thing-
From the fowls of the air that build their nests and melodiously sing;
To the beast of the field, who roam the meadows, wild-
To the fish in the sea, who swim so gracious the waters
flowing mild-
To plants and fruits and vegetation; to grass and budding
trees-
The whole of the Universe was made by Him-
Including you and me!!
By the Word of His mouth,
He spoke and it came to pass
He looked and declared it all good, eternally to last.
Even Humanity-His special creation-
He like a potter fashions clay
Molded us with His loving hands
From the richness of the soil
With beauty, stature and grace!
He made us all and-
Placed within the heart of us
The Light of Love Divine to last throughout time-
Eternal from Earth’s Holy grains of sand.
In His image, we are wonderfully, marvelously and fearfully made-
So we can rejoice in the One God of Creation and
though we come in all shades, shapes and sizes,
None greater or superior to another-
We are all sisters and brothers;
We are in God’s sight One through Him:
One Blood!! One Breath! One Body!
All to proclaim His name—
Male and and female(the Human Race)-
With the capacity:
To live! To love! To learn!
To laugh! To cry! To work!
To play! To choose! To comprehend!!
To be anything we desire to be through His
Divine Spirit and Power.
Same Blood! Same Spirit: Breath, without
which none of us would exist!
We are free to soar, to excel,
To rise above unfavorable, physical circumstances-
to heights and depths unknown-
As long as we remember we are all One:
No inferiors!! No superiors!
All members of the Human Race
Made in the image and likeness of All Mighty God, Our Father and our Creator
Martha Malloy
Some are common - others rare,
But opportunities are there
For us to claim, capture, declare...
Unless we simply stop and stare.
Long after our mother's girth...
Beyond our time of childbirth,
We have chances for all their worth
To make our way on planet Earth.
Some of them simply appear
During a meal... over a beer.
Others may not seem as clear
If we refuse to see or hear.
Granted some are, others earned...
Some cases see them adjourned.
Lost at times with bridges burned...
Experience and what is learned.
Feeding out of their said manger...
Each one a potential changer.
Sometimes given by a stranger
Or another unknown ranger.
Saviours from a life of woe...
Expanders of what we all know.
An opportunist - are you so
Or would you rather let them go?
You speak in a language that I don’t understand, but your music is creating mayhem all over the land, the rhythm is so sweet that it ruptures my heart beat, and when the day is moving slow and the energy level is low, the music spurs me on and my adrenalin picks up speed and satisfies the global needs.
You speak in a language that I don’t understand but everything you touch is converted to gold and sometimes it overwhelms my soul. The value is so high and sometimes I fall down on my knees and cry. Your language is so beautiful, sometimes I wish I understand it all, for I would attend that once in a lifetime ball. The intonation, the texture, the height the depth, and the ambiance that comes with it, make the music exciting to listen to.
Language is the heartbeat of every culture, and if you don’t understand it, it makes your mind wander. When someone is greeting you, you might believe that they are criticizing you. Learn the language of the time so that you can make the trip of your dream and be where you always wanted to be. You have always wanted to climb the tower and take a photograph, then visit the cathedral and examine the carving on the floor and doors.
You speak in a language that I don’t know, but every night you steal the show, your romantic voice captivates them all and you have invited everyone to attend the ambassador’s ball. Everything is so exquisite, the layout, the attire, the setting, is like a palace, the food and the wine, makes the language so divine. It’s the passion that resonates in the voices that speaks; it keeps the whole world alive and elevates its dignity and pride.
You speak in a language that is pure, it is not polluted with the dialect from next door. The pronunciation is excellent, the diction and tone is magnificent; the articulation is clean when you open your mouth to speak, the rhythm is so sweet; it’s beautiful to listen to and I hope to speak it fluently someday so that my heart doesn’t go astray.
The language you speak is French and I have already booked my ticket for “heaven”
I will climb that tower and write the music in an hour.
Music is the language of the heart, and I listen to it when the day starts.