Long Unworldly Poems
Long Unworldly Poems. Below are the most popular long Unworldly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unworldly poems by poem length and keyword.
The Dragon Riders Saga V
So many heroes had died that fated day, never again to fight
The only one to survive was standing over the Mage that night
Both had stood alone upon that once fabled battleground
The death screams of the dying Mage now the only sound
He let out one last deafening scream a crying evil lust
And everything that has been evil vanished into the dust
With his last ounce of strength the rider lifted his magic blade
Proclaiming the triumph of light over the darkness that evil had made
They had dodged so many death blows, neither gaining the upper hand
But this day light prevailed and defeated all that evil had planned
Evil had grown strong in time, and all too soon it had gotten loose
Poisoned the Earth and letting Hell's demons slip their noose
Battles fought and raged on ever front on the land and in the skies
Blood had been spilled without measure amid deaths horrid battle cries
The demons had found a master of magic and the darkness held them tight
They had feasted off of death and misery with unworldly delight
But the spirit of man dipped in courage and gallantry
Risked all, willing to die for what they believed, liberty
The hero they had chosen was a Dragon rider and a prince
His blood lines deep and noble, none like him before or since
Equipped with armor, sword, and shield he fought the demons well
And when they stood face to face came the evil's death knell
Over the centuries this heroic tale had gotten lost somehow
All they had sacrificed forgotten, well until now
So remember history can repeat itself should that knowledge we spurn
And then the evil will yet get another chance to return
A Prism Of Light
A prism of light
All the beauty of the spectrum
Swirling in endless waves
The light changes and morphs in to strange objects
They are familiar and yet unworldly
Woods, metals and sparkling crystals
The blend together into a transparent mass
Twisting in strange patterns around my mind
Their movement unlike anything ever seen
Man nor nature could imagine such a ballet
I wonder if this is a true universe
Or have I found another reality of pure beauty?
Could neither be the truth?
Is it possible for it all to be a lie?
Why should I ask?
I will never know if the prism is in my mind
Or is it even in my world?
I OPENED A DOOR
IN THE UNIVERSE ,
TO WHAT IS KNOWN AS ,
CHOICES OF LAND.
UNLIMITED CHOICES ,
THAT I COULD SIMPLY DEMAND.
A SPACE , WITHIN TIME ,
IS CONSIDERED A LAND.
POINTS OF INTEREST ,
WERE IN THE PALM OF MY HAND.
FOREVER GROWING ,
UNIVERSE OF TIME.
ENDLESS THOUGHTS ,
KEEP CROSSING MY MIND.
SO MANY SPACES ,
I REALIZE HOW BLIND
I REALLY AM ,
SEARCHING FOR SPACE
OR LAND , IN TIME.
UNKOWING AND KNOWING
TWO DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS.
IN BETWEEN ARE ENDLESS
REFLECTIONS.
WANTED , DESIRED EVEN REJECTIONS
THERE'S ARE PATHS TO BE TAKEN
THAT LEAD TO PROJECTIONS.
WHAT WE HAVE SEEN ,
WAS ONCE A PROJECTION
IN THIS LAND OF TIME
IT'S MEARLY REFLECTION.
INVERSE AND EXVERSE ,
DON'T BE MISLEAD
BOTH EXIST INSIDE OF OUR HEAD.
TIME IS SPACE,
MEASURED AND DISTANCED ,
STANDING STILL WITHOUT RESISTANCE.
SO HERE I STAND ,
WITH AN OPEN MIND ,
A PERMANANT FIXTURE ,
IN THE LAND OF TIME.
LIFE IS TIME ,
A MEAR PROJECTION ,
HOW WE ARE SEEN ,
IS SEEN AS REFLECTION.
THERE ARE HOLES IN TIMES ,
EXTRACTING REFLECTION ,
REDIRECTING ,
UNWORLDLY DIRECTIONS.
GOING FORWARE ,
MEANS LEAVING BEHIND.
RECORDED SCENES ,
IN THE LAND OF TIME...
MEMORIES ... IMAGINATIONS...
ARE THE FOUNDATIONS ,
OF THE LANDS OF TIME.
Michael E.Harris
04052025
He walks the shore and gathers drift wood for a creaky beach hut shelter
Builds a future and modest abode pegs his aspirations and dreams into the sand
Crusted planks weave an intricate roof over content surrender and anchor
The composite walls thin enough to break free from conventional hardship
Intricate sea shells and luminous star fish dangle from a crooked leaky ceiling
‘Ever’ lies in the moment as the moon turns tides flooding time’s impermanence
‘Nowhere’ found its home in the ‘now when’ as Chronos and Kairos float by
His beard is wind-blown and the long hair matted nourished from tear drops
Where the salt has arrested the Self to become penultimate freedom in passing
Some think he is an outcast but inside the mould casts quest’s independence
Free of greed and destruction he feeds on passion love reflection and breeze
He does not know where he will be when winter frost covers the shore
Maybe the ocean will have taken him into another chapter of his humble life
Tim does not fancy a homeless abode nor mere existence in a nursing home
Somewhere new waters might bring him a crutch or a float to survive
All he knows is that if seagulls gather to pick his eyes heart and grey matter
A colourful life with meaning and soul will have fed breaths of knowledge
His angle on life would have conquered unworthy battles without mortal wars
He lives for the day and the day lives for him untainted by greed and dishonesty
No skeletons in the wardrobe or cupboard for he owns only one robe and one cup
Every so often some kids listen to his story at the threshold of his hovel that is if
So-called adults will allow their offspring to come near to his unworldly world
Little do they know that his tales may bear fruit and open a page for their path
Their parents would want them to be lawyers or doctors carpenters or priests
But an anecdote here or there from the poet’s soul might help them to survive
14th June 2019
The Night beguiles and bewitches me
as shadow deepen and lengthen
The moon shyly peeps out at me
then bursts out in splendid stateliness.
Now clouds drift across its beaming face
causing shadows to change their shape
I see first a unicorn dancing in the night
Followed by a trio of old haggard witches.
The night sure belong to unworldly things
goblins, elves, pixies hobnob in its darkness
and shadows leap and dance in moonlight
rays of gold, silver and blood deep reds.
Soon. too soon the night will give way
and all the secrets hidden by darkness
will slip away and leave me wondering
were they ever displayed in the darkness?
I
At the innocent age of sixteen I was sinless,
Pure as driven white snow and totally trusting;
And I fell in love, oh, it was more than fondness,
This was true love, my soul and heart was yearning;
I was smitten, besotted, how I longed for his soft caress,
We would walk hand in hand with such wide-eyed innocence;
So clean and fresh, unworldly, inexperienced and so full of purity,
Our world was small but our endless, devoted love was so immense,
Naïve, gullible and demure, how I blushed pink when he said I was pretty.
II
I waited for him breathless at my home,
On his motorcycle we would fly unguarded;
We liked to find little country towns to roam,
O, I adored him and I was fascinated, infatuated;
We drove the motorcycle on beaches through foam,
I dreamt at night that this true love would be my groom;
The days, weeks and years have passed since this pure love,
He was not my groom, he did not age one day, he dwells above,
I still hold this childhood love so dear and often go to visit his tomb.
______________________________
May 6, 2015
Poetry/Ode/Purity
Copyright Protected, ID 04-670-704-06
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, When Love Was Innocent,
sponsor, Justin Bordner, HM, Judged 2015
Ill-fated crowds neath unchained clouds: the Silent City braved
against a sudden flashing flood, unleashing lashing waves,
which stripped its stony structures, blown with neutron bursts that laved.
Its barren streets, although effete, resound of yesterday
with chit-chat words no longer heard (though having much to say)
since teeming life (at one time, rife), surceased and slipped away.
Within its walls? Whist buildings, tall... Outside the City? Dunes,
which limn its frail forgotten tales, in weird unworldly runes
with symbols strung like halos hung in lifeless, limp festoons.
Above! The dismal ditch of dusk reveals a velvet streak,
through which the winter’s wicked winds will sometimes weave and sneak,
and faraway a cable sways, a bridge clings hushed and bleak.
Thin shadows shift, like silver shafts, throughout the doomed domain
reflecting white, wee wisps of light in ebon beads of bane
which cast a crooked smile across a faceless windowpane.
Wan neon lights glow through the nights, through darkness sleek as slate,
while lanterns (hovered, high above, in silent swinging gait),
whelm ballrooms, bars, bereft bazaars, though no one’s left to fete.
Death's silhouettes show no regrets, 'twixt twilight’s ashen shrouds,
oblivious she always was to cries in dying crowds –
in foggy neap the spirits creep beyond the mushroom clouds.
No ghosts of ones with jagged tongues will sing a silent psalm
nor haunt pale lips with languid quips to pierce the deathly calm,
nor yet redress the emptiness that shifting shades embalm.
Continued in part 2
Dreams are a window to the future, real or surreal - poet.
If it was a dream it was like no other,
soft, delicate, with silky feathers
the angel beckoned me to
an enchanting embrace.
I was tempted but
couldn’t break the shackles
of diamonds, gold, silver
and all the precious stones
put together.
They were not just priceless,
they were strung with
a mystical, gossamer thread.
I tried hard but the magical
chains were overpowering,
The angel came close
I could feel the fragrance
of heavenly musk
her breath redolent
with nectar and ambrosia.
She bloomed like a lotus,
face glowing like a sunflower,
something I could never
attribute to women
of this world.
My strength was of no match
against the unworldly magic
of the chains.
Proximity of the angel and her
intoxicating body scent
was driving me, transporting me
to a far-off land unlike
any I had seen.
My tired eyes gazed at the pink seas
and blue sands, woods a
pale carmine yellow, the birds of a
colour rainbow danced
in tune with the music
created by the rhythmic
frothy, cream-pink waterfall.
The sky was
of a deep crimson hue
as if a gargantuan had
been slayed and the
tapestry above stained
with ungrateful blood.
It was both surreal and
utterly believable
at the same time.
My legs were still
in shackles, and I
was resigned to the fate
of an eternal prisoner.
I thought of the angel
who had come so close
to me offering an embrace.
What was her motive?
Was she offering me the
Kiss of death?
Am I going to die, dying, or
Am I already dead?
Amidst the cacophony
of the animals and birds,
my auditory nerves were
transporting faint signals of
someone approaching.
The sound of the steps
muted by the soft sands,
the dull sounds were from
behind, I turned around.
The angel was close, but
this time there was no
musky fragrance, only
earthly smell.
She touched, a bolt
of lightning hit me
and I blacked out.
Not sure it was a dream,
if I ever wake up I’ll find out.
A life invaded by power of base desire
metamorphoses into an object inert.
A being pristine and vibrant abused
by the brute clutch of carnal instinct
strays like strewn pearls from string snapped.
The sane sense corroded by acid impulse
doesn’t repent for a moment lacerating
the vulnerable unworldly psyche unwary,
fostering fervent dreams of belonging,
decimated by savage affront unforeseen.
For a body caught in cesspool of vile lust
the garden of existence turns wasteland,
where blown by harsh winds of disgrace
plaintive mind crumpled to dust ponders,
where has sanity gone in brutal times.
The flower called life blooms with promise
of gifting precious treasure of beauty adored.
When it’s ravaged to ruins as an object dispensable
love in shattered heart becomes debris of hatred,
searching for a niche to hide the shamed soul.
August 27, 2019
Total words (136) counted on PS.
Our modern society is very deft
at exposing our bodies to emfs.
Wifi at the office.
Wifi in our homes,
and of course those emfs on our cell phones..
We live in the time of instant connections but
whose looking out for our bodies protection?
Electric companies replaced augmented meters
to eliminate the cost of meter readers.
Apartment and condo dwellers absorb the cost
in their bodies cell damage and cellular loss..
Whomever thought that smart meters were smart
when they cause cancers and impact the heart?
Companies now marketing shielding products
but they often appear unworldly, and some what robotic.
I guess I'm too old for this wifi wave so I'm off to
the hills to look for my cave.