Long Vanish Poems
Long Vanish Poems. Below are the most popular long Vanish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vanish poems by poem length and keyword.
As November draws near,
And winter is there.
The spirit rejuvenates every year,
For helping diabetes cause, that is so dear !
The cool breeze and the flowers' scent,
Renew the energy within, that should be spent,
In educating the masses about this pandemic,
That's non communicable, but often plays havoc.
Taking so many lives, and many get sick.
'Diabetes wellbeing and at work'.
Are important areas, where we need to work.
'Dementia, Depression and Diabetes distress'
Are mental issues that we need to address.
Morbidity and mortality, thru them get high.
Urgent steps are required, rather than just sigh.
Many a novelties and breakthroughs in diabetes we have seen.
So productive and useful, it's history has been !
When we relish the sucesses in this field,
And expect many more to come in this field.
We truly feel submerged in the ocean of blessings.
Being grateful to the Creator, for solving mysteries, so baffling !
Despite all breakthroughs and innovations,
Is man pleasing The Creator and His Creation ?
It's failure of humanity, if that is not happening.
Success is very far, if moral values are waning.
A person with diabetes should be ready for changing.
With passing time, he should continue learning.
The well being and peace from within shall surely foster,
As diabetes knowledge and tackling skill, the person shall master.
Once self sufficiency and hope get kindled within,
The clouds of dependence and despair will vanish within.
Then each person with diabetes, shall be a torch light,
A beacon of hope and guidance, amidst dwindling light.
I have heard they will roam the room at night
Two shadows......against the moonlit wall
A figment, and yet.... a haunting call?....
And then a silence blankets all
She wanders in a gown of old
Reflected in the dark, dark room,
The night is black, the air is cold
A bleached white face reflects the moon
He hovers in the shadowed maze...
Hair's on neck and arms will raise.......
Some think the past has come again
A step from the past, on creaking wood
Borne of the two who hadn't lived
A board or two will bend the floor....
A twisted branch taps at the sill
A howling of the wind reveals
another night when both were killed
Then nothing more....
My whispered name I sometimes hear
And all through the house, I feel them stare
When dawn awakes, they slip through cracks
Morning finds no clues, nor facts
They vanish as if in thinnest air,
but no one knows just where.....
"HOUSE FOR SALE"
beware!!
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TOUCH :- to come in contact of someone/something
or feeling something against the skin.
How ordinary the word is,
How ordinary the definition is,
However, the sensation is not.
While pressing the skin against something/someone
that is as abstract as our own-
Somehow makes us feel safe,
As if we have everything we need to battle all the
insecurities we have grown.
At that moment,
Everything seems to vanish,
the only thing that remains for a quick moment is that
sense of safety,
It doesn't make any difference even when the
epidermis is blemish.
Sometimes it can be as ordinary as the definition
itself.
However, in times it can change the perception of
vulnerability,
"Touch" can make one feel 'home',
Nevertheless is horrific when transcend.
The sensation is poetic somehow.
Perhaps exceeds poetry in explaining the purpose.
I believe it's as expressive as words can never be,
Does it make all feel this way, or is it just me?"
I worship not with hymns or knees,
but in the rustle of the trees,
in socks that vanish in the wash,
and toast that lands, of course, jam-squash.
I’ve built a chapel in my brain,
with pews of doubt and tea-stained rain,
a steeple made of “Could be, though,”
and sermons whispered soft and low.
No angels here, no Book of Rules—
just dreams that argue with the schools,
and stars that blink in Morse-code blips
while comets draft apocalypse.
I don’t believe in bearded skies,
but I suspect the moon tells lies.
And when my cat begins to stare,
I think—somebody might be there.
Not God with thunder, plagues, or plan,
but Something odd that tickles man.
It hums inside a crusty roll,
then vanishes—like half the soul.
So here I stand—no robes, no creed—
just wonder, stitched to human need.
I light a match. The dark replies.
And somewhere, Something rolls its eyes.
Happy birthday Dad
Ever since you left us all in tears,
our hearts ached in grief for years.
Sweet memories of times together,
brush gently as subtle touch of feather !
Longing to touch you and embrace,
while feeling your presence at every place.
Your smiling face in my eyes I embellish,
but wonder why in a blink you vanish?
That in my each cell you are very much alive,
It was too late to realise and end up strife.
Remember the days of joy, None of them so sad,
Today I am wishing you happy birthday dear Dad!
Written November 23rd, 2014
By Dr. Upma A. Sharma
A tribute to my dad on his birthday today
Entered for contest by Brian
On sandy beaches and along fertile riverbanks,
In fecund soil and in lush green plantations,
Coconut trees stand tall towering into the sky.
They are benevolent palms at the service of generations.
A coconut tree is a marvel of creation, every part of it can be used.
Its umbrella like crown of leaves shades us from sun.
Its circular, heavy cluster of fruits enrich our bodies.
From coconut husks, coir mats and ropes are spun.
The milk-white kernel inside the coconut shell,
Is used in curries, cookies and for extracting oil.
The water inside is a healthy, delicious drink.
Its vast net work of labyrinthine roots holds the loose soil.
Its sturdy trunk is used as a support for anchoring small boats.
Coconut shells in the hands of a craftsman turn into attractive curios.
Palm fronds are used for thatching small hovels and sheds.
Thus, from foot to crown, its uses and charms are various.
If one is stressed, it is therapeutic to de-husk a coconut.
It is a fine exercise and an ideal way to de-stress.
If angry with some one and wish to tear him limb by limb,
Break a coconut and it will take away all your noxious distress.
Still if you don’t feel comfortable and are with tingling nerves,
Scrape a coconut bit by bit and by the time you finish,
All your anger must have slowly gone as steam into air,
And in course of time, you will see it thoroughly vanish!
In a world where whispers weave through silver lines,
She dances in the glass, a shadow of a dream,
Her laughter ripples, echoes lost in the design,
In the shimmer of reflections, she’s more than she seems.
Her hair is spun from twilight, each strand a star untold,
Her eyes, twin galaxies where secrets softly swirl,
With every breath she takes, a story unfolds,
She lives in the mirror, that mystical girl.
Each morning, she glances, a magician in disguise,
With her fingertips tracing uncharted realities,
She conjures portals, realms veiled by lies,
Draped in the essence of forgotten fantasies.
“Step closer,” she beckons, a seductive refrain,
“Leave behind your burdens, your mundane, weary strife,
In my cosmic kingdom, you’ll never feel pain,
Dive deep in this dream, let go of your life.”
An ocean of magic lies behind her sleek veil,
Cascading reflections, where the ordinary fades,
And there, worlds entwine, where dreams do not pale,
In her shimmering depths, your spirit cascades.
But beware, dear wanderer, the mirror’s sweet smile,
For it promises wonder, yet hides shadows of grace,
Each inch that you savor, you're lost for a while,
In the allure of the surface, you may vanish without trace.
Yet still, I return, drawn by her mystic call,
To dance in that realm where fantasies glow,
For in every reflection, I’m caught in her thrall,
She lives in the mirror, and I long to know.
So let the world pass, let the clock tick away,
Let my thoughts intertwine within her enchanted hold.
For even if I vanish within her silvery sway,
I’ll find a piece of magic, more precious than gold.
So if you see her wandering, don’t you dare look away,
For in every flicker lies the possibility of flight,
She lives in the mirror, a harbinger of play,
A whisper of infinity, shining through the night.
I drink and I look all around at night
I sit and make no more sound at night
I realize I'm alone in this bar at night
I'm alone with all these people at night
I realize I don't know them at night
I realize I'm forsaken with them at night
and so I lose my blind hopes at night
and so I leave the hopeless scene at night
I walk through the frost on dark streets at night
I think a lot, like I usually think at night
I can hardly breathe with all that feelings at night
I'm sinking deeper into oblivion at night
I want to forget every moment of past hours at night
I wish I could say I'm totally careless at night
and so I turn off every lamp I pass by at night
and so I won't smile 'cause I wear a frown at night
I can't see my pale face in the mirror at night
I don't recognize if I'm real, without fear at night
I hesitate, I fail and collapse into bits at night
I vanish for the rest of the winter at night
I'm a statue behind the window at night
and so I surrender to the shadows at night
and so I remove my heavy head at night
I open the door to my empty room at night
I lie on the floor, so cold and dusty at night
I stare to the darkness of my inner-self at night
I listen to the ticking of a deafening silence at night
I'd like to sleep, but I often can't at night
I'd like to say it's just a fiction, but it's all true at night
and so I shiver and play with these words at night
and so I'm sober, awake between the walls at night
Those who would aim to prevent one another without incredulity.
A mighty civilization afflicted by filth and plagued by calamity.
A mystical state of unhappiness that typically lasts for infinity.
Even if a person undoubtedly discovers a way to vanish with vitality.
To the highest point in the country and the most remote destiny.
The historical origins of sentimental pity are not eradicated easily.
The external snowstorm will promptly vanish in a few days flinty.
However, the internal storm will continue to rage for quandary.
Written: December 25, 2021
Every day I fade away little by little, like a star lost in the vastness of the sky,
Silence becomes my refuge, letting calls vanish into the echoes of time,
I trace winding paths, avoiding encounters like a butterfly hiding from the wind,
And as my steps turn to shadows, I distance myself from familiar lights.
By the time they notice I've dispersed, I'll already be a dream unraveling at dawn,
A forgotten laughter, an ancient melody, a smile hidden in the corners of memories,
Their questions will float like fallen leaves: what was my laughter like? was the smile real?
Or was I just a reflection on the surface of a calm lake, a thought that vanished?
My soul dances on the edge of time, like a grain of sand in the hourglass of eternity,
I wonder if I've left deep marks or was just a breeze passing through their lives,
Who am I in the hearts of those who seek me now, an echo or a guiding beacon?
I retreat into my silent universe, a story written on the night sky, with undying stars.