Long Unset Poems
Long Unset Poems. Below are the most popular long Unset by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unset poems by poem length and keyword.
A Change Is A Com'n
Though this baby boomer,
(who didst roam man
upon this Earth
since the year
mcmLix) does not
coon sitter himself
a political activist his wear
re: some ness, particularly
with chronic setbacks
inaugurated by President
Donald Trump, an in volunteer
re: response, (asper just
the faintest hint
of a smile) veer
really played itself across
my countenance un bear
ably impossible to depress, repress,
and/or suppress, upon
gleaning America Online
cover headline indicating
Representative Beto O’Rourke,
a (Texas Democrat) care
fully, sir up tush hiss lee,
reportedly, and quietly
considering a 2020 grab
for White House
commander in Chief chair
met with Barack Obama dare
ring political polls
to hedge intimation,
though true motives unclear
that said progressive
former named person
(from Lone Star State)
might be seriously sincere
conjoining what promises
to be a dynamically
hearty, lucky, and plucky
solution to uptear,
the present woebegone crisis
of dreadlock, gridlock, and
padlock stasis, the political
ship of state (Leviathan
countenanced by Thomas Hobbes
circa 1651) pitching
United States government
upon reprehensible threshold
inching the Doomsday Clock
closer than ever to thermonuclear
global mortal kombat triggering
unset of unstoppable subnuclear
barrage in record time (mere
minutes transforming the
world wide web into
many a schmear
compromising most all life
into a bajillion bits
of pulverized powder,
guaranteeing the demise,
sans *****sapiens,
and thus no
Santa Claus to steer
the motley crue
of feisty reindeer,
this above mentioned dissolution,
would sadly, unfortunately,
wretchedly remove *****
as well the straight
sexually oriented persons matter,
would become reconstituted
into surprise show stopping premiere
of some alternate lifeform,
no doubt signalled
with at least one outlier
or maybe even a noncareer mutineer!
NORDIC ECSTASY
You asked me a question, a nostalgic one
Where I was in the seventies
I was in the land of the midnight sun
With the descendants of the Vikings.
Looking at Norwegian rocks, their structure
Along the corrugated coast of the North Sea
I found myself on the lap of pristine nature
As beautiful on earth as it could ever be.
The ice-age glaciers have all melted away
Carving deep valleys for the fjord networks
To enter the lofty land the sea gets waterway
Where on azure clarity the sky disembarks.
Summer sun touches the arctic horizon
Goes up unset at the midnight hour
The sunshine on the night hangs on
Making the body clock go haywire.
The grey sky flushed with the aurora flare
Gleaming winter nights danced on the snow
I could still feel the Nordic ecstasy of the air
Though it touched me such a long time ago.
February 22, 2018.
Life is entanglement plus time,
A Gordian knot of opportunities,
Each ravel a riddle to solve
or a battle to be won.
We grab and pull at the gnarls,
Greedy fingers seeking solutions alone.
Though the more we worry them,
the tighter the fibers cling together,
defeating our efforts with every turn.
The working ends unhitched and hidden,
Knots impossible to untie without another;
Desperate, we seek the means to unset
the tightened rounds of coil.
We need only look up from our lonely struggle,
Unhand the ties and trice up munitions,
In favor of a more effective weapon,
for a prize worth more than any puzzle.
Love is the sword that cuts,
The foil to Gordius' grateful gift,
The force that frees us from the knots
that bind us alone in despair.
Love is the lens that exposes the path,
To unraveling the tangled mess,
To bearing witness to the holism of loops
and eyes along the same length of rope.
Love alone is the key that unlocks
The secrets of the tightly-wound tangle,
Revealing the pattern of the overlaps
and the beauty of the intermingled angles.
With love as our scope, we can maneuver
Through the maze of twists and turns,
Unleashing joys and embracing the weight
of the lessons we learn as the bind slowly burns.
Through patience and kindness, we can loosen
The strands that have wound us so tightly,
Embracing the challenge and refusing to choose
the path of ire or slacking down without a fight.
So let us unravel the knot with hearts ablaze
And together minds set on finding the way,
With love as our sword and our site and our hope,
we can unravel the rigging and seize hold of the day.
I dread that day of pain.
I dread that fated day.
The heavens cried in pain.
The heavens wept in grief.
The people cried in tears.
The people cried in regret.
They all muttered together.
They all echoed together.
"This one was quiet promising, at last gone".
This one was quiet purposeful at last no more.
He was tall and slim.
He was bold and strong.
But fell to his own might.
But fell to his own depth.
Thus a man feared in Rome.
Thus a man reveared in Greece.
A man whose wisdom Babylon sought.
A man whose wisdom built persia.
Failed to see wisdom.
Failed to see reason.
He journey's this day a land of no return.
A battle lost from the unset.
But wait I hear screaming in the East.
I hear running in the West.
They all say he who was dead.
They all say has been reborn
The symbol of his existence rests on a child.
That fated scar.
To all who have ears.
To all who hear I tell this tale of "The Death and Rebirth".
Wheelchairs
Chariots in Heaven
I tell you now in earnest,
there is a secret behind all things,
real and unreal,
set and unset,
tangible...
believable...
and knowable,
to your core.
The practice of driving a chair,
here where people stair,
is only for the flair of the air,
that will blow around and through
your hair...
high up in the clouds,
touching the sky,
the corona,
the day,
the night...
and forever.
Messages to the stars,
sight-seeing and wonder,
the golden cart will fly free,
as there will be no need
for anything at all,
to call upon the Lord,
and know He is there,
to hold us close...
here, and where
the adventure goes,
or we are sent.
my pen this night
is weak
my thoughts though
strong are meek
my dreams are dreams
and that's all that they are
but until i make them come to life
they are as far away as the stars
stars at night are so numerous
i can not count
also are my dreams
an unset amount
the stars twinkle and move across
my sky
and my dreams they shine
and delight my mind
one star that is present
it is my sun
my dream ever present
is the only one
the sun it warms me
on winters day
my dream warms me
in various other ways
when the world turns
and my sun appears to go away
my dream is scattered
across the milky way
i count the stars
and dreams alike
beautiful visions
of my delight
but dreams are all they are
until i bring them life
a dawning star
and bright day light
my heart and mind
wish with all their might
that i would bring my dream
into the light
"I wish I may, I wish I might
have this wish I make tonight."
and with the rising of the sun
dream and star become as one
A Soul’s Breathing Way
Alleluia —my soul reaches — while
Presently
My body keeps still — only in the motion
Of breathing —
Unable to walk — I lie here
Riding time — through visions
over land and seas
Wild —
Without maps or measures — as
Before humanity determined
Moons or integers —
Alleluia — my soul discerns
Serenely
The musical turning of light
Lulling me along
To unset shores —
This ride to physical recovery —
Waiting —- wafting —
Will bear neither boredom nor
impatience —
While wending
Ever gently
On breathing’s rythm —
Alleluia — my soul gladdens
In songs of surrounding angels —
And is ever conscious —
To stay always praising —
Yahweh —
Three in One
Blessing — promises of
Breath and healing
I hold —
Alleluia —- my soul longs to sing
With a faith known
Prior to its birth or Eden
————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 6/11/22
Glory to God….
From beneath the patina of the rusted times
on the surface of the marooned mind
I uncover a buried pathway in the dusty memory
on which the tormented thoughts travel backward
to the deserted room, its peeling walls pasted with
pieces of frosted mirror of the shattered past,
still hanging uncared in dust.
The last rays of the setting sun
enters the room through the window I keep open
to the twilight when all the faces I once knew
dissolve in the flushing gleam of the dying day
but for the one that glows like the crimson sun unset,
the descending night hasn’t yet shrouded in oblivion.
I see a pair of pensive eyes with frozen drops of tear
poised unshed on the eyelid petals, looking at me
the forlorn way they did when I left her for good
in the dusk a long time ago.
That time hasn’t yet lost its way
in the meandering memory lane, her fragile face
appears unushered so often on the broken mirror
of my desolate mind that reflects tiny drops of tear
in the deserted corner of her pleading distant eyes
I want to forget.
October 5, 2018
Master Magician
Oh the thrill, the wonder.
Each move something to ponder.
From whence did this come?
Out of a hat, rabbit is from?
My heart races and my brain aches
As I try to have some sense this make.
Abracadabra and a flick of the wrist.
Astonishment none can resist.
Each step done in perfect time.
This moment a dream most sublime.
I thirst for more and cannot look away,
For this awe I feel demands I gaze.
Forgive me, magic man, but I must ask.
Was this a plan, or a chanced task?
Could you be this skillful, truly,
You needn’t plan or practice to astound me?
Or is it that I am so simple yet,
My mind so dull, so droll,
That my taste is undeveloped, unset,
Because I haven’t seen such a fine show?
But I swear I have seen such tricks,
In the times that are now past.
But they were a house of bricks,
Compared to your cathedral vast.
I beg you, let me closer to observe.
That I may praise your show, as well as you deserve.
Master Magician, too far please don’t stray.
For this fan looks forward to nothing more
Than when your show comes back to town someday.