Long Upwelling Poems
Long Upwelling Poems. Below are the most popular long Upwelling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Upwelling poems by poem length and keyword.
The fern unfurls its fronds into bright daylight,
Upwelling, unfolding, into its green birthright.
Each turn widening out, from what came before.
Uncoiling upon its splayed and flattened mentor.
A shell remembers the squeeze of an ebb tide,
to fill its cramped space from that wise guide.
Expanding its shell's spiral wider to enclose
and encircle, its whorl with more space as it grows.
A hawk ascends to an invisible higher place
upwelling on warm air lifts high into space.
Ever widening its circle and point of view,
As Earth unscrews; its thread now askew.
Circling round a spiral coiled staircase,
each step is quarter, or half, about face.
Entwined by the central core to twist away
from the straight step into light of day.
Wild vine tendrils learn from whirlpools,
which way to script their upward spools.
Responding to the wire's touch and feel
to coil in spirals, around cold hard steel.
High above the spiral galaxies unwind their arms
like silver brittle starfish on bracelet charms.
They're frozen in space and time to not display
the way they twist, coil and spin in foreplay.
The golden orb fades beyond the far ridge of trees,
purple dusk wins the fight
The cold settles in the marrow of the bone
The long lonely trail calls my name
Twilight trail winds amongst the spruce
Dogs surge forward smelling home, respite
The final upwelling seeking sanctuary
The long lonely trail calls my name
The wolf cries his lament
His mate repeats the refrain
A challenge calls from the distant peak
The long lonely trail calls my name
A glow in the clearing up ahead promises comfort, assures warmth
Lazy smoke rises from a half hidden chimney, home
Frozen fingers tingle in anticipation
The long lonely trail calls my name
Dogs left behind in the yard yip a welcome
The door of the cabin flies open spilling welcome across the snow and ice
A figure steps out
The long lonely trail calls my name
Frolic branches of trees shake, butterfly leaves flutter
with the trail of summer squall the feisty forest plays.
Don’t make your mind a denuded forest of clutter
if with the flickering shadows of foliage at gloomy dusk
it can’t sprint and play.
Ballerina crests of waves swell, pearls on breakers shine,
under storm-shattered sky in tempest the sea dances.
Don’t make your mind an unsurfing sea that silently pines,
if on the surge of upwelling tides of agonizing times
it can’t roll and dance.
Silver spray of sprinkles rises, harmonic water serenades,
on stepped slope of the valley the hilly stream cascades.
Don’t make life a lean stream meandering in dark shade,
if in the rough course up and down of time’s topography
it can’t leap and flow.
Perched niche of nest crashes, scared chicks fly away,
after midnight storm the lonely bird soars in cobalt sky.
Don’t make life a bird of broken wings that can't glide in gay,
if from the debris of wrecked hope in splintering times
it can’t rise and fly.
Quartz luster of sands simmers, jade cactus face shrinks,
in the cradle of dunes the desert winds sing in the oasis.
Don’t let your heart get desiccated at the desert's brink,
if the lyric of emerald oasis in the blinding blizzard of sand
it can’t write and sing.
Be true to yourself, remain what you are meant to be,
the mind will play and dance with the shadows of despair,
the deserted heart will sing the oasis song of ecstasy,
the wrecked life will rise again from the debris of agony,
if you are what you are.
August 21, 2021
Contest : The Marmite Poem
Sponsor : Natasha Scragg
marooned maestro
floats frustrated
with
waned creative craving
in
sensual lyrical stream
of
impeded passion
faces jaded
stodgy scenario
of
monotonous mélange
of
temporal template
in
bleary platitude plateau
of
consumed composer’s
blasé bearing
it seeks
for
algorithmic arousal
of
styled stimulation
within
captivating cauldron
of
coherent fecundity
but
dismayed downright
by
lamentable nothingness
of
Promethean depth
lacking buoyant upwelling
of
imagination impulse
snapped strings
of
violin heart
don’t resonate singularity
with
impassive articulation
of
simulated strokes
as
ephemeral echo morphs
into
emotive melody
of
congruent cadence
distorted disarrayed
in
convoluted concerto
of
synthetic sonata
If the anchorage of the wayward mind is unsteady
Unbound from the righteous roots of sanctified soul
In the dislodging thrust of the upwelling desires
The untamed instincts rush feral on sordid trail.
The unbridled mind turns into a predator animal
Breaks away from the shackles of virtuous sanity
Chases the prey on the track made by brutal craving
The basic instincts morph into entities base and virile.
Deflected from the course shown by the moral compass
Time plunges the being in the vortex of vicious storm
Breaking it down into discarded debris of wreckage
While the voice of God echoes in conscience unheard.
Life is the embodiment of the unique existence
The construct of divine elements almighty chooses
Manifest magnificently suffused with heavenly essence
Within the trinity of coalescing body, mind and soul.
Beneath the surface of perceptive mortal senses
The mind builds all the dreams it desires to see
Allured by aspirations into the dark unawareness
It suffers wandering in the wilderness of barren life.
Under the convolute layers of the clouded mind
At the sinister inner depth resides the gloomy soul
Until awareness dawns with the light of eternal truth
Builds unbetrayed the holy linkage with the absolute.
Travelling on the enlightened pathway of devout life
An inward journey to the sacred sanctum of spiritualism
Takes the soul to the ultimate destination of liberation
Where consciousness perceives the meaning of existence.
___________________
April 19, 2022
Contest : Soul Betrayal
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker
The blue waters of the North Atlantic,
deceptively calm, are shrouded in mystery
in the deadly Bermuda triangle,
delineated by many as a paranormal swathe,
where series of unexpected events, unexplained,
made many aircraft and ships to strangely disappear.
Despite the belief of manufactured mystery,
the Devil’s triangle attracted many elucidations…
the influence of the lost continent of Atlantis,
the magnetism of submerged Bimini Road formation,
the Gulf stream upwelling the marine gas hydrates,
but as yet no consensus has emerged.
The plausible explanation may well be the linked causal trinity,
synchronizing to define the enigmatic triangle.
October 2, 2020
Contest : The Unexplained
Sponsor : Carolyn Devonshire
BEING WHAT YOU ARE
Frolic branches of trees shake, butterfly leaves flutter
with the trail of summer squall the feisty forest plays.
Don’t make your mind a sprawling forest of wilderness
if with the flickering shadows of foliage at gloomy dusk
it can’t sprint and play.
Ballerina crests of waves swell, pearls of breakers roll,
under storm-scattered sky in tempest the sea dances.
Don’t make your mind an unsurfing sea of sheet glass
if on the surge of upwelling tides of agonizing times
it can’t float and dance.
Silver spray of sprinkles rises, harmonic water murmurs,
on faulted slope of the valley the hilly stream cascades.
Don’t make your life a stream wandering as a lean streak
if in the rough course up and down of time’s topography
it can’t leap and flow.
Perched niche of nest crashes, scared chicks fly away,
after midnight storm the lonely bird soars in cobalt sky.
Don’t make your life a homeless bird of broken wings
if from the debris of wrecked hope in splintering times
it can’t rise and fly.
Quartz luster of sands simmers, jade cactus face shrinks,
in the cradle of dunes the desert winds sing in the oasis.
Don’t make your heart a desiccated cauldron of desert
if the lyric of emerald oasis in blinding blizzard of sand
it can’t write and sing.
Be true to yourself, remain what you are meant to be.
The mind will play and dance with shadows of despair,
the deserted heart will sing the oasis song of ecstasy,
the wrecked life will rise again from debris of agony
if you are what you are.
October 12, 2018
The frolic boughs of trees tremble,
butterfly-latticed leaves flutter
in the trail of summer squall,
where the feisty forest plays with foliage.
Don’t make your mind
a sprawling forest of forlornness.
In descending dismal dusk,
with the flickering shadows of flora,
let it sprint and play.
The ballerina crests of waves roll,
with pearls on pitching breakers
under storm-splashed sky,
with tempest tempo the sea dances.
Don’t make your mind
a still sea of sheet glass.
On the surge of upwelling tides
of the tumultuous times,
let it float and dance.
Perched niche of nest crashes,
the scared chicks fly away,
after the midnight storm
the lonely bird soars in sapphire sky.
Don’t make life a homeless bird
of broken wings.
In the threshold of splintered times
from the ruins of wrecked hope,
let it rise and fly.
Quartz shine of sands makes mirage,
frail face of cactus hope crumples
in the cradle of dwindling dunes,
the wasteland wind sings in the oasis.
Don’t make your heart
a desiccated cauldron of desert.
The lilting lyric of emerald oasis
in blinding surge of sandstorm,
let it intone and sing.
Be true to yourself,
remain what you are meant to be.
The mind will play and dance
with the shadow of despair,
the deserted heart will sing
the song of ecstasy in sanguine oasis.
The wrecked life will rise
from the debris of distress,
if you are what you are.
Unbound from the righteous roots
of the sanctified dormant soul,
the anchorage of wayward mind is unsteady.
In the dislodging thrust
of the upwelling desires,
the untamed instincts
rush feral on the sordid trail.
The unbridled mind turns into a predator,
breaks away from the virtuosity of sanity,
chases the longing on the thought track,
made by the urge of brutal craving.
The basic instinct morphs into base entity.
Deflected from the correct course,
shown by the moral compass,
time plunges the errant existence
into the vortex of vicious storm,
breaks it down into discarded debris,
while the tune of acuity echoes unheard
in the ethical ether.
Beneath the surface of mortal perception,
heart builds the dreams it desires to foster.
Allured by the self-sought aspirations
into the darkness of unawareness,
it mutely suffers wandering
in the wilderness of wanton life.
Under the convolute layers
of the clouded mind,
at the inner depth of turmoil
the sensual heart waits to dream.
At the dawn of self-acquired consciousness,
flooded by the light of eternal truth,
it builds the innate desire
for the touch of placid perception.
Travelling on the pathway of devout life,
an inward emancipation journey,
to the sacred sanctum of realization,
the ultimate destination of liberation,
where the awakened awareness perceives
the sacrosanct meaning of existence,
in the voice of conscience.
To the Circuit of Energy permeating the garden, sustaining the canopy permeate
Washing through with waterfalls, cascading rivers, and upwelling springs the fermement
Was magically darkened when Eve took her classes at Satan’s grove
Where one tree (or gate or pedestal) stood, and the devil appeared like hand in glove
To capture her attention, draw her away from her programmed obligations
Little did she know that the devils deal would lead to abnegation
Of her rightful role as a helpmate, swquaw and poets wife
To rule as co-creators, in innocence, with her husband – Adam – and without strife
Although the invitation to new knowledge might have raised her curiosity peaked
‘Perhaps’, she thought, ‘only to have this new experience’ would raise her from meek
Humility. And give her new insight into helping her man: new insight new skills
How was she to know that the tree of good and evil would not fulfill
Any decent role in sustaining the garden, or giving of strength
Had she known that she would be banned from paradise, and removed a full length
From the easeof leisure, the peac of pleasure, which passes all understanding
What a tragedy then, when she engaged the devil without comprehending
The consequence of taking that fatal action, to partake
In the fruit and lust of the wicked tree: when after she began to fake
The full collapse of her station to assist the 1st Man, her original matrimony
She had, perhaps unwittingly disrupted her union with man, and sundered its harmony
With the role of Adam as a spokesman and poet was now broken
The life from before, when he merelyspoke and observed had become a token
Memory. Speech itself a vestige of what life had been when it was perfect
For Eve had introduced vast new knowledge through her dalliance when the devil depicted
A fuller knowledge of all the trees of the garden once fecund
Now all that once gave life in full, a mere second
To Eves infinite question; to probe the everlasting and to question
From what source, and what deep came the gall of God’s order not to mention
The mercurial things that she had seen in Eden, the sweet lull and whisper
And perhaps her fall, the devils gambit settled the mist-in-her