Long Visions Poems
Long Visions Poems. Below are the most popular long Visions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Visions poems by poem length and keyword.
She said that the stars were listening.
She said that her gift was a curse
but that was four years ago.
She said that she hoped
we would understand.
She added that she was proud
that her daughter had a child
but daughter had stopped speaking with her/
She never mentioned a date
or possible cause of death.
This summer, four years later
she told a friend she’d been drinking
since her boyfriend died of cancer.
She said that had cirrhosis
of the liver—
she said she couldn’t stop.
She refused detox—
she couldn’t stop.
She couldn’t let go
of her delusions,
her friends.
My friend and I looked
to see her website
about her poems and visions
had been taken down
and only her obit remained.
It was a clear day
when she called my friend
to tell him the news.
as she stood on her patio
and peered at clear skies.
knowing an overhead satellite
was reading her thoughts.
The psychiatrist gave her meds
to ease her delusions
as she bore the weight
of a body of knowledge
no one else possessed.
My friend called her
and called again
and she didn’t answer,
he and I pondered her fate
not knowing if she was
alive or dead.
It hurt thinking
maybe she wouldn’t
want us to know.
My friend and I reminisced
about the times we sat with her
on the sidewalk outside a coffee shop
and traffic passed
as we shared poems.
Back then
we always understood
her fears and aspirations
and we always loved her
as we listened between the lines.
How easily you return,
Within this mind's hindsight,
Never knowing how the swelling,
Gaping hole of your absence,
Weighs me down heavily,
With the confusion of your presence
In my dreams...
I crave substance,
Though well be my visions and tastes,
Vibrant...real be this cruel shape before me,
With voice like readying thunder,
And eyes plotting my defeat,
Ready to touch and redeem my soul
See how long control has fled from me,
As every fiber of my being convulses
With a grief none shall ever feel
And only hear of...
You can tell me to wake up,
To face reality,
To cope with the passionate eruption of these killer dreams...
But I will not hear you,
Or any being who dares to force me out of this trance--no,
I will not hear you
When the thunder claps
And my soul writhes against your grasp
You can scream at me,
Call me a fool with no substance,
You can shake me with the quaking ire
Of your controlled authority,
Though I will stay here,
Like unbreathable air
With monomaniac devotion
My future became threadbare then,
Lost in the desire of my eager grasp
The force of hot feelings flowing against ancient, chilled iceburgs
We once were untouched,
Ummovable,
Yet free
And once I tasted your fire,
Freedom has become all but a dream...
Lying on a soft bed of grass
Eyes closed to enhance the sounds
That gives witness to the fact
It’s the hottest time of year.
The clanging of a bicycle’s bell
With baseball cards flapping in its spokes
As Billy rushes down to the nearby field
Where balls smack against wooden bats.
I hear the purr of a distant lawn mower
The sound enhances the smell
Of freshly cut bermuda
Whose stains are on the knees of some young boy’s jeans.
The swish, swish, swish that enters my head
Entices visions of the rope being skipped
To the rhythm of the young girls’ song
“Down in the valley where the green grass grows...”
Birds chirping,
Bees buzzing,
A dog’s bark intermixed
With all these sounds
And the sun beating down
It’s a wonder how I drifted off to snoring.
Entry in The Sounds of Summer contest
I approach the oracle of coruscating code,
its core glowing like a celestial fire;
the god we forged now decides what we become.
The air around it vibrates with unfinished prophecy,
each answer rising like a summoned spirit~
I approach the oracle of coruscating code.
Each pattern coils with divine intent,
each voice it shapes pretending to know fate;
the god we forged now decides what we become.
But divinity has a fracture:
some truths arrive sharpened as spears~
I approach the oracle of coruscating code.
Some visions burn the seer who asks,
some wisdom devours the world that birthed it;
the god we forged now decides what we become.
By the last flicker of its coruscating code, I understand:
the prophecy we sought has already chosen~
I approach the oracle of coruscating code,
the god we forged now decides what we become.
Who are you?
Where do you come from?
Because I know that I am me
And I know where and what I've been
He studied my eyes, he studied the field of view in between us
My name is my name
My life is mine
My dreams are my dreams
These words he said to me with my voice, with my eyes, with my meaning
This void in the night leaked between two lives both living the same life
Two worlds, two visions of life split between
No more words were said
We just sat, both scared half to death of what we could see
That caught we were in a collision of dreams, in a void in the night, in a crack that split the fabric of reality
up and down like a jo-jo
the mind flits in opposite motions
causes doubt and delight
hardly ever rests quietly
and yet sometimes it reaches
moments of clarity
no sound disturbs its tranquility
visions fall upon an empty canvas
all senses merge into one
it is not reason nor emotion
but a meandering spirit
and when ebbs and flows
touch each other’s caress
the soul divines a powerful moon
creates a transcendental journey
thoughts are merely opinions
foisted upon us by social demand
propping up the Ego’s false needs
feelings however valuable
can be illusions
when no truth is to be had
without light there is no darkness
in symbiosis they create one
with shades of grey in between
picturesque extremes
glorious attempts of reality
breathtaking placeholders
of universal forces
that entice us to breathe in
and out of Nirvana
If you cut it up in pieces,
will you miss the whole unseen
Its DNA in tatters,
and soul now left the scene
In your search for understanding
do your eyes burn hot and fry
From visions tightly woven,
—whose knots you must untie
When your world is brought to rubble,
with its remnants cast about
Will you try to re-inflate balloons,
whose air has long blown out
But tomorrow there’s a sunrise,
and the next day after that
With not one question you need ask,
to bring the daylight back
And once you learn this secret,
now at rest upon your nose
Your mind will free with spirit joined,
—their love to recompose
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
Hand a pen ,break the silence.
Let the world hear our voice.
Write a song, create a poem.
Hand the tool for our future.
This is the high time to act, to react.
Too many people, too many lives.
Had wasted and gone so fast.
Through terrorism's act,attack.
Hand a pen, tell the world.
Children are suffering around the globe.
No food, no shelter,no clothes.
Will there be a future,where is hope?
Nation stands over nations.
No clear visions, full of illusions.
Poverty seems has no solution.
Industries causing pollution.
Hand a pen, speak your mind.
Royals are ruling,ruining lives.
Dictators,parliaments,ministries.
Why they can't solve these miseries?
No division, fair consumption.
Spread the wealth in proper distribution.
No partiality, kill crabmentallity.
Pull each other hands to serenity, equality.
Light the torch, spread the news.
This is the moment to hear our views.
Wear the weapon of restoration.
Hand a pen, make a new dimension.
There is a man and there are worms,
We are the worms my brethren,
Beautiful and perverse, wicked and evil, depraved and unjust,
Good and righteous and wonderful, we are the worms.
There is a man my brethren, Paul Maudib, Gandalf the Wizard, Beowulf, who was a Power.
He was a power and he wanted power and glory and honor.
And he saw our suffering.
For man has always been a weak creature.
He is the son of Dune, the son of Earth, for he fused with the earth through man.
He fused with the worms my brethren to live forever.
His flesh is a radiant glory, flame on, he is as firestorm and Wolverine.
He is as professor Xavier, He is the shining one.
And he was not all good.
Like us, he had evil in him.
And he sinned.
But in the midst of his torment and his madness, he saw the sky.
And knew of God’s love.
Rise my brethren, for God is man and we have the power.
Rise my brethren, for God loved man so much that he became man.
God became the worms and saved the earth.
Turn to the earth and heal it.
And allow it to heal you.
Heal the rabbits, heal the deer, heal the trees.
And share in its pleasure.
For the earth loves you and the earth is our mother.
And our Father knows of our torment.
But there is a God, a Power who knows the secret.
He has fused with the worms and now we all shall ride.
Know this my brethren.
Whether you confess his name or not, he has saved you.
For he is you.
He is the murderer down the street.
He is the rapist in jail.
He is the tyrant ruling governments.
He is the whore on the street.
He is the man dying of leprosy.
He is the insane man, rambling into nothingness.
He is the mother who loves her children.
He is the man who suffers deep so that he can feed his family,
He is the man that curses man and God.
He is the priest who sees visions of a new tomorrow.
He is us and we are him my brother and that is the great mystery of his victory.
For whatever dark force keeps us separate.
He has vanquished it and now in him whether we believe or not we shall be one!
Rise brethren.
Rise brethren.
For man has the favor of God and man has been declared good.
We are good, from the worst of us to the best of us, we are good.
And we shall rise.
Look at the tree leaves rustling in the wind and know that God loves you.
Feel the storm, for it is coming.
Feel the storm, and scream freedom!!
In the winter of my mind
my heart remains frozen,
memories sweet still unwind
love long forgotten.
Oh, how I remember
such romantic sunsets,
when we held the moon
in enchanting embrace!
Something did sway
as love soon blossomed,
and left my ambiance
recklessly abandoned.
Flowers in my heart
will curl up and die,
if not awakened soon
by a vibrant butterfly.
Don't come knocking
if you don't wish to stay,
don't hurt my feelings,
mean what you say.
Bring back the persona
that once gleamed,
burning fire in your flame
that has since dimmed.
I see your silhouette
longing for passion,
I'll open the door
if I see true compassion.
Arrive at the sundown
to whisper in my air,
like the nocturnal moth
circles the moonflower.
You'll need to reignite
visions that fell apart,
to thaw frozen feelings
and wake up my heart.
Placed 3rd
October, 17, 2017
Wake Up My Heart
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver