Long Vibrations Poems

Long Vibrations Poems. Below are the most popular long Vibrations by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vibrations poems by poem length and keyword.


Once upon a Song

One O'Clock Jump  the song need a Steg
to helps break up the monotony
Dichotomy she spoke of days
where he was truly in love.
It was 8:08 she said.
i remember cause I was snapping my fingers
to the groove.I loved the sound. 
"Oh" I said speaking of the
what she just mentioned. I felt foolish: she was
speaking of a drum machine. Drums with no drummer!
She said he was magically in love with music and 
magicailly in love with her, "I love him too" she said.
with her. They had to reinstallate the walls due
to the vibrations of there
music and love mak
Her drummer once catch them dancing in silk
and nothing.
She told him to sit down until the song was over.
Grabbing a robe she covered
while he stood before me talking
like nothing was out of place.
He knew the guy who owned the 
quarry were the marble he had bought
was mined.
He said the foreman told him to watch out for ground bees.
It was beleived ground bees could burrow into the stone
and when cut the thick slabs would be a perfect house for them
Durning the interveiw a swarm
of bees emerged. canceling everything.
I heasrd they had solved the problem.
The bees were in the blue slab in the studio.
They wrote the song "Anthophora abrupta" or  burrow"
with help from a gifted muscain from Red bank New Jersey.
One guy said the song was bad: and
 a debate came out on taste. But those
 who knew the slang of music
knew that the guy said the song was tough,
 or was something that had feeling and was 
song worthy enough to be liked. We later found
that the couple had lied about the ground
 bee's to get extra money to pay the 
guy from Jersey.
Form: Ballad


Premium Member Gristmill

So, this  is where the sheaves were hauled
Where corn was husked, and seeds were hulled

So, this is where the meal was ground,
until the clock ran down

Round and round
a donkey bound
Asleep, awake.  By night and day
The millstone tossed the dust around

Vibrations trembled thick stone walls
Humming sounds before the dawn,
bemoaning hymns of tranquil breathing.
The staff of life was there for reaping
until winds hushed this quiet song

No stone could grind the past away
The heart of life kept beating on,...

until the clock ran down

__________________________________________________
5/25/18
Contest: The Gristmill
Sponsor: Craig Cornish

Mindfully Enjoying the Moment

When mind is in the moment, thoughtlessness prevails"
~
Keep your mind away from thoughts that rebound
Hear the mesmerizing melodic music of surround
Bask in the bewitching beauteous objects that astound
Sense all the sensations you skin has sensed around
Inhale the myriad magnetic fragrances floating around
Experience boundless bounteous bliss of God abound

Mindfulness leads to cessation
Of thoughts, the causation
Of our miseries, our vexation

Mindfulness makes us aware of creation
Leading to captivation
Then to our admiration
And acclamation
Of love of God flowing without cessation

When thoughts end
Vibrations ascend
We transcend

The body
Situated in Samadhi
experiences bliss eternal
Sees soul internal

Attains salvation
Instant elation
To final destination
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Unabashed Desire

attention peaked, poised and yet so still 
nonchalant but yet awaiting surprise 
embracing pulsations as of His will
seeking amplification of bliss rise

throb of spanda is a movement in time
enabling soul to feel alive on earth
exalted vibrations divine sublime 
captivate presence here, in bubbling mirth

at times the current chooses to recede
no doubt there must be a higher purpose 
yet we concede bliss has become our need
thus our deprived heart thirsty, makes a fuss

call this desire or a burning yearning
love in love with love, seeking connecting

02-July-2021
Form: Sonnet

If...

"...you could be the 'IBM704' or n'Auntie... which would you be...?"


I paused to think on it.
lol
With Love...

~Ooooh Steven...

Yeah, you hear,
in the 'Gates Motel'....
eyelash typist, I hope you're well. ;)
Tease I can at the squawk, Mr. Hawk,
You sent two men, to speak your talk.
And so we did.

~155... you're still alive~

Yes, I Am....

~Tonight I lay me down to sleep,
Was tempted by the darkest sheep,
but did I turn? Know, I kept the peace.

Digital voice, I hear you speak,
~ eyelash typist dared to peak.
Breaking code in an eight spoke chair,
Catching bubbles in between the air.
~ I see you there...

Ribbons high, vibrations low,
magnetic flash we call NeetO!
Then I wondered to myself,
"....and to where did he go?"

"Position Assigned" I heard it read.
I look about but Who did I see?
Just Me. Can it be....?
I'm an Auntie?

Shock, surprise, eyes wide in smile!
I checked it twice then cried awhile...
Not sure I applied, but then realized
it might be true after all...
Might be what the Leggos call
Life. In a nutshell.

But hey, if it is indeed to be
n'Auntie, then who better.
:) The best *I* do,
is write Love letters...


... And so it is...
Love Is.Peace

~Being, Peace.
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:


Premium Member Our Hearts Conversations

They say love sometimes make people insane
Causing all kinds of heartache and pain
But honestly I wouldn’t change
One thing about yours, all i want is more
When I’m holdin’ you, I’m holdin’ it all, never had such a safe place to fall
I’ve never been so all in just wanna give you all that I am
 
Baby forever starts with you right now
No I’ll never be the one to let you down
Just hold on tight and enjoy the ride
Trust in me we’ll be more than all right 
As we dance to the vibrations
Of our heart’s conversations
  
You are every dream that I’ve ever dreamed
Without you I just wouldn’t be me
What else could i possibly need
I’m up and over the clouds whenever you come around
When I’m holdin’ you, I’m holdin’ it all, never had such a safe place to fall
I’ve never been so all in just wanna give you all that i am

Baby forever starts with you right now
No I’ll never be the one to let you down
Just hold on tight and enjoy the ride
Trust in me we’ll be more than all right 
As we dance to the vibrations
Of our heart’s conversations

Oh our hearts’ conversations
Conversations
Heart’s conversations
Form: Lyric

Premium Member His Lonely Guitar

He was dealt a harsh life 

But he tuned it into something beautiful 

He’s electric, like the body of his lonely guitar 

He holds a soft heart, yet remains inscrutable 

 

He’s swayed by music, his swift fingers hitting each note 

He frets, then he avoids, scanning for escape 

He holds onto his pain, like the neck of his lonely guitar 

Taking space when vulnerability takes shape 

 

He won’t feel safe if you get too close 

His magnetic shield attracts only sound 

Strumming vibrations, like the pick-up of his lonely guitar 

His gift to us is his music, so profound  

 

He’ll dismiss you, then feel remorse when you’re gone 

A self-fulfilling prophecy from personalized neglect 

Pushing and pulling, like the whammy on his lonely guitar 

His tension alters the pitch in his need to protect 

 

He doesn’t want to lose you, but he won’t choose you 

He gauges his emotional regulation through every tune 

As he plucks at your heart, like the strings of his lonely guitar 

In his authentic tone that causes my soul to swoon 

 

He keeps himself busy to evade any reflection 

He’s only secure on the stage hearing fan’s cheers 

He’s divided his pitch, like the fret of his lonely guitar 

He’ll scale you back while he’s hiding his fears 

 

His riff is survival while suppressing his demons 

Yet he maintains perfect control set by the saddle 

Where he’s safely anchored, like the bridge of his lonely guitar 

His wall of silence is more deafening in his battle
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Becoming No-Thing

Meditator meditating in thought rested stillness
Identity yet is and with it carries beliefs and concepts
So sounds, images, light or subtle vibrations may manifest
In the background there is our soft breathing and bliss humming
Identity is yet the subject and myriad sensations the objects
Then everything simply drops away and there is no-thing
What is, is awareness self-aware, self-luminiscent
Innate aliveness of Self without any attribute

Being self-aware, awareness as such is complete
There is no going or coming or doing to be done

Choicelessly choosing to reactivate mind-body
Pristine awareness self-aware pervades form
Present simultaneously both here and 'there'
Fully functional from fulcrum of detachment
As nonchalant peacefulness so witnessing

Let’s look at this quote from Ashtavakra Gita verse 20.3

“Where is Knowledge and ignorance? 
Where is “I”?
Where is “this”?
Where is “mine”?
Where is bondage and liberation? 
Self has no attributes”

21-February-2023

Memory Lane

A journey to Memory Lane..
Fond memories circulates..
Nostalgic moments captured and forever remains..

A journey to Memory Lane..
Where thirst for all desires had been quenched..
There is always food for the soul..
While walking through Memory Lane..
The soul sings a soprano quartet..
An ensemble of exquisite symphonies..
Heavenly music to the ears..
Soulful high magnificent vibrations..

Delightful interludes of pure bliss..
As our memories sustain our nourishments..
Memories never fade..
They only shine..
Shine on...
As our memories shall expand continuously..
As we walk through a thrilling journey..
While feeling euphoria..
A journey to Memory Lane..

The Last Bee

It was nearly 60 degrees
On the 21st of January,
On what should be
One of the coldest and snowiest
Days of winter
In Michigan,
But, instead,
After a month of mud
Unfreezing
And snow
Diminished
To fog and rain,
We ran around
Outside
Without
Even a jacket,
As did an actual
Yellow Jacket
That I saw
Punching against
My kitchen window,
Its wings
Erratically batting
The smooth glass
Like eyelashes
From a surprised
Resurrected.

Oh, little honey bee,
Woken upside down
From your slumber,
Tricked by a narrow road
That is a tunnel,
Risen like Christ
On the wrong day
With no way
To correct the prophecies
Of the Bible,

Now disturbed
From your meadow dreams
Of the past summer,

A return to sleep
Is not possible.

There are no flowers
To suckle,
No hive alive
With vibrations and honey.

You were drawn out by the lust of the Devil
And the greed of its winged-capitalists.

This is no place for you.

I’m sorry
You’ve been re-born,
A mere reminder.

I offer you
The warmth and sweat
Of my palm,
Perhaps a comfort
For as long as it can last.

For what it’s worth,
My little creature,
It’s the last thing left for me to do,
As well.

It’s all either of us can do,
Anymore.

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