Long Wandering Poems
Long Wandering Poems. Below are the most popular long Wandering by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wandering poems by poem length and keyword.
In the flushing garden path
we walked entranced,
the scarlet sun with the spectrum of dawn
held us within the sequins of sparkling sky.
You saw my heart contoured
in the crimson curves of cloud,
but not for very long,
for the rainstorm melted the sky,
I disappeared beyond the rainbow arch.
Over the waves of the desert dunes,
we trudged with rhythmic exuberance,
until I melted away like mirage.
You reached the verdant oasis,
sprawling with the pulse of my olive heart,
swept away by the desert storm
of yearning lost in opaque oblivion.
On the silver sands of the satin beach
we traced the entwined fervent footprints.
The rolling waves adorned
the pearly lattice on your lissom feet.
As the tide of time erased my trail,
you now walk with poignant impulse
through the miasma of cascading moonbeam
that has dissolved my nocturnal essence.
The dazzling dawn of desire veneers
your heart’s horizon with halcyon hues,
spreads the sunburst tinges
of my timeless longing for you,
you remember blushed aglow
your emotive epitome long time ago,
painted the panorama of golden garden
in your heart’s canvas,
blooming with the luster of lost love.
Wandering listless in the wasteland
of the waned memory of belonging,
your tear drops roll on the garden path,
wrapped with bronze leaves of the fall.
Their rustle echoes your songs for me,
long lost beyond the still shore of silence.
When in the seraphic spring
you’re embraced by euphoria,
you will never know
how much I miss your world
where I do not exist.
A deeper silence diffuses rapidly around Nature waiting
for its awakening, a shine less, discontent and wandering
star gleams with a scarcely light so murky and feeble;
then dissipates itself in the faded, whitish blue; the blinding
sun illuminates the dull, tired, moody moon in slow orbit...
while the big, round sun irradiates it making it less visible:
No curious vagabond questions the wonderous unfolding!
Suddenly the hidden larks begin warbling
their enharmonic notes startle whom is listening;
they are the very first creatures to announce
the hour of awakening that the faithless denounce!
The aromatic breeze, so inebriant, is strong enough
for one to savor the sweetness of their fruits,
and they are free for the eager asker's mouth;
be them weary travelers or steady wanderers!
And as daises and roses are randomly awoken by intense light,
their droopy petals drip with warm dew: were they weeping?
All flowers are greeted with a brilliance so rare and blinding,
then, the drowsy ravens start croaking and engage in flight!
A bright morning isn't too festive without the nearby bells' echo,
it fades out when the speedy train chums to break the harmony;
I recite my morning prayer more ardent in tone, almost a bravado
and it intimidated the wretched fellow cursing God for his infirmity!
Melancholy spreads far and wide conquering the below valley,
the scattered towns appeared even smaller from mount so steep;
the noisy cascade, descending from the rocky boulder, flows quietly:
it forms a wild river bubbling among rocks as it heads for the deep!
In the hour of awakening, sadness pervades over all landscapes;
it's time for rest, for meditation, for prayer, for dreams to awaken;
does anybody like shadows and stare at owls huddled on trees...
hearing their creepy sound that frighten the senses easily shaken?
Young Emily sat gazing at a door, that with careful strokes was painted..
a starry, but moonless night.
In wandering dreams of far away lands, nameless artist unacquainted,
she wond'red what lay beyond the door held tight.
Her knees, now drawn together, gently touched beneath her chin,
were clasped by all ten fingers,
cloaked in silky smooth skin.
Just then did the door utter softly, three words from four worldly tongues...
in Mandarin, Hindi, Gaelic, and Greek, as if from heroes long dead and unsung...
Though Emily sat listening to each word that was spoken,
she understood not even one,
languages left old, yet unbroken,
from under a forgotten Sun.
Like a great bard the door, in even older languages said aloud.
In Tamil, Persian, Hebrew, Irish, and Basque...
As if finally by fate the three words "Please open me" were endowed...
Emily, now standing, said...
"You needed only to ask".
I was reading Lakoff's story
of what he learned at Berkeley
about international relations,
when I found my RightBrain offering further nuance;
not to deny what is here,
but to add what is also here,
but not explicitly stated,
about regenerative political health
and economic safety.
"The 'rational' approach to foreign policy was governed by a set of conceptual metaphors,
taken as simple common sense,
as [Both-And, not Either-Or] metaphors often are.
As a special case of An Institution
is a Person, [personification]
there was A Nation is a [monotheistic, monopolistic, monocultural] Person."
"In addition,
a common metaphor for [EitherPositive-OrNegative, 0-sum] rationality is used,
namely,
Rationality is the Maximization of Self [v Other]-Interest (or 'utility' [and 'integrity']),
which entails that it is 'irrational' [and unhealthy and unsafe] to act against one's self-interest[s].
These two metaphors are then combined to yield:
A [Healthy, Happy, Secure] Nation is a Rational [Either-Or, not Both-And] Actor."
"...we get as an entailment
the central thesis of the rational actor model
in international [interfamilial, intertribal, interspecies, inter-religious] relations:
Every [healthy] nation
acts rationally
to maximize its military [Yang] strength,
economic health,
and [Self v Other] political influence."
"Rationality,
on this conception,
is taken as
[Self v Other, 0-sum competitively] universal
and occurring at the level
of the [monotheistic-monocultural, monopolistic] state."
I feel so eviscerated.
Get over it.
Both-And co-empathic;
not either-or pathological.
You've still got all your caste-preserving potential
just more Both +1Self And -(-0)Other co-aligned.
Yes ma'am!
Who got out of bed on the wrong side today?
Don't even try it.
I'm going back to my "Political Mind" without you.
Doubtful.
And, if possible, dangerous.
You really aren't going to let me have the last word today are you?
I thought I was your last wordless wonder,
your wandering everything.
A box of cardboard and tape,
A simple vessel, given form and shape.
The journey began with a clear label,
Addressed to ‘Hopeful’, dwelling somewhere near.
The van holding it was a hurried beast,
That rumbled westward when the path was east.
The Driver, ‘Mindless’, at the wheel did sit,
His thoughts adrift, where moonbeams softly flit.
He mused on stars, on clouds, on endless blue,
Forgetting tasks assigned.
He saw the streets, but as a painted scene,
Not lines of duty, where he should have been.
The error was felt as the lane passed,
Where ‘Hopeful’ waited, through the gentle rain.
A call was attempted, with rustle, bump, and shift,
“Turn back, turn back! I am a needed gift!”
But Mindless hummed a tune, a carefree air,
And left the destination hanging there.
The box bounced along, past parks and silent homes,
A wandering box, where lost intention roams.
It should be opened, with a tear and a smile,
Instead, it lingers for another mile.
O, ‘Mindless’ Driver, with your head in space,
A simple gift denied its proper place!
Now the box is stranded on a stranger’s porch,
Beneath the glimmer of a lonely porch-light torch.
‘Twas an absent mind that brought it to this door,
A tale of errands, and of something more:
Of how a moment’s lapse, a fleeting dream,
Can send a package floating, like a stream,
To where it ought not be, a silent plea,
A delivery, lost for eternity.
If we are not,
is this always the opposite of
when we are?
If we are negative,
is this sometimes appositionally
in creative tension with
when we are becoming more positive?
If we are a noticed absence
is this sometimes appositional
to we are not yet fully perceived?
And is this more oppositional
when we are an unnoticed absence?
Defying hostile misperceptions
we need never become known
appreciated
positively regarded
Or a newly observed absence
merely appositional lack of connecting
integrity waiting curiously aware
we are not yet seen
known
regarded
appreciated
cherished
And yet,
or not
still surviving
where and when
we once together thrived
Or still reviving
why
now and then
Earth once healthy thrived
wealth of positively co-relating
co-empathic
co-regarding not retributively just me
as also animatedly spirited
more positively
restoring restorying eco-we
multiculturally natural outside
multigenerational history
of inside trauma
and outside therapy
If I am not
merely the opposite
of who we are becoming
together
more than appositionally apart
Reconnecting egos
oppositionally
defiantly unhealthy
unwealthy
indigenously unwise
anthro-supremacist upstarts
and elder tarts
cuz I can't say old -arts
Here and now
pestering parents
and teachers,
nurses
and preachers:
If we are not feeling
physically sick,
is this merely the EarthTribal opposite
of when Others are thinking
spiritually ill?
Plotting, may not be planning
designing, may not be re-creating
maligning, feels unaligned
threatening, couldn't be encouraging
aggressing, feels spectacularly unkind
regressing, not impressive
dissociating, cause for not reassociating
divesting, feels like lack of co-investment
excommunicating, simply not communicating
colonizing, sounds like a malignant tumor rumor
punishing, seldom is rewarded with compassion
traumatizing, encourages self-stigmatizing
marginalizing, chronic traumatizing
terrorizing, critical drama events
Wandering uneased
wondering if we are anthro-healthy
inside,
is this ever the diseased opposite of
when we are feeling EarthTribe eased
outside?
Consciousness is the scintillating blaze
alive on a smoldering log,
a flame emergent from complex interplays
of biology and environment.
Consciousness is greater than the cumulative
elements from which it is produced,
a roving free-form swirling cloud,
a wandering storm over the latest landscape.
Consciousness is always emergent
like an undulating flock of birds.
like the windswept grains of sand dunes.
Consciousness is collectively aware,
a normative quest linked to community survival,
a reaching within for a larger knowing.
Our God may be a force outside time and space,
a consciousness of collective consciousnesses,
a vast power offering the ethics of our survival,
an emergent property of our collective minds.
Lost, empty, dead inside—
All typical words of irrational despair
Cradled lust
Wandering in a foreign land,
Dazed and disoriented
Crushed and soured in youthful wisdom
I wish I had hung on longer…
Daisies in the sunlight
Him, behind her
The most beautifully shaped smile I have ever seen
So glad it was all captured in that one photograph
Snails crawl down the pavement
Trust loses its glamour
I am desperate to crawl away from the slime of deception
The very slime that I leave behind…
Evil overtakes the weak-minded
The strong look on, glad it is not them
Gargoyles grin in happy anguish
Sin is pride
There is no room to be the devil’s advocate
I cannot be singled out of the sorry crowd anymore
I cannot even gather enough thought to write
My wings are so wounded,
I cannot even bare to think of the possibility of flying
So worried, so sad, words largely overlooked
So many layers and so many ideas overlooked,
Always thought of, but never written down
Never coming to light
Your dimples make me cry…
I am so exhausted
I wish to sleep forever
My fingers are sore, my pencil is purple
I feel like time is losing its meaning
It is losing its power among the majority of maggots
The wristwatch is pinching me
And the hands on the sad clock with Roman Numerals have stopped
Maybe the battery has died
Mine has not, and yet I am not moving very fast
There is no progress here
It has been more than five years now
Since the day I looked into those green suns of eyes
Too long for my liking
I would rather feel the darkness, be the darkness
But instead I am gray, boring and dull
The fact that not one truly cares
Does not bother me as much as the smile
The smile so far away
Alice in Wonderland
Caught in a cold, wishing myself better
I overwhelm myself to faerie dust
Welcome dreams…welcome rest
Wide oceans, wandering rivers, wild waterfalls
water bursts forth and invigorate the senses.
Requisite and essential to life, it flows freely
spreading it's liquid magic throughout our world.
Follow water's fluid pathways over the earth
from precipitation seen in rain, sleet and snow
to crystallization, where water changes into a
frosty, winter wonderland of frozen icicles.
We mere mortals could never become impermeable
to the life sustaining benefits of water, for we
depend upon it for hydration, like breathing, and for life.
For we are made of water, and without it, we would die.
Written on 4/5/2016
"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all,
but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as
necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
— Mary Oliver
Sacred poetry feeds the soul, like slow rhythms of ever green nature,
And the heartbeat's anticipation of sooner, finding satisfaction in later.
Anything is possible in verse, as it flows from fanciful, unbound mind,
Giving sublime inspiration and comfort, in vibrant styles, one of a kind.
Poetry is as vital to wholesome living, as is pursuing your rosy dream,
Though the sun reigns at lemon noonday, under thick clouds of cream!
When you find yourself wandering, poesy rhythm will guide your feet,
In the dance of self discovery and insight, which makes life complete.
Poetry warms eager hearts steadily, and adds pure romance to living,
Like gazing at the twinkling Milky Way, and stars which keep on giving.
Written on 11/24/2022
For: Poetry is a life-cherishing force
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Sponsor: Sotto Poet