Long Waned Poems
Long Waned Poems. Below are the most popular long Waned by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Waned poems by poem length and keyword.
(note: The site restrictions don't allow long epic poems, so I have split this into 6 segments, each should run straight on from the previous one.)
THE EYE OF THE SEA
Or
The Rime of the Ancient Kubla Kahn on the Road to Mandalay
There washed ashore a devil’s whore
Who claimed he’d never been paid,
Near dead from Sin, or weatherin’
Yet feared to loose his blade.
We did our best to ease his rest,
But our experts all were vexed:
The Old Wives College exhausted their knowledge;
The doctors cursed their texts.
Wracked with pain his life had waned
His eyes were growing dim,
His final words were barely heard:
Everything looked grim.
With chicken pills we cured his chills,
For strength we gave him broth,
His brow was mopped, his temperature watched,
We swaddled him in sailcloth.
Then from afar with strengthened heart
As if ‘twere heaven’s game
His mien changed, he had regained
The pilot to his flame.
In heartened mood we gave him food,
And bade his tale be told;
And so he spoke for the price of a toke
And a butcher’s bag of gold.
“ ‘Twas in the port of Herringford,
Where all the cows lie down,
A skipper talked, he claimed he sought
A crew of great renown.
The wind was high in a sunless sky,
The waves were barreling in,
And word got round of men to be found
That night at The Mortal’s inn.
At eight o’clock the bolts were shot
And all were locked within,
With muttered words of rumours heard
And lubricant of Gin.
The Captain coughed and glanced around
For conversations shed,
With laser gaze and aged malaise,
In a darkened voice he said:
‘Into the storm at the crack of dawn
We sail on the morning tide,
Let no man here betray his fear,
His passion or his pride!’
The aim of the endeavour was legend’ry treasure,
The fabled crystal ship of the Prince,
Lost years before off the Straits of Nepal,
And famously quested for since.
Our boat, ‘The Eye,’ was a Barquentine,
Just a quarter league in length,
She sailed as sweet as a sackful of eight,
With grace and speed and strength.
Twelve good men without pretence
Agreed to the journey ahead,
But the cheery tales of places sailed
Belied their inner dread.
The crew we got were a hardy lot,
Experienced one and all,
But none were fools and caution ruled
When it came to signing aboard.
Continued on The Eye of the Sea part 2
In the realm where indigo flames are chased by the whims of wind,
The horizons have learned to spare my soul the thread of pain.
For the first time, of love I croon, a minstrel's virgin strain,
From tempests of discord, I retreat, in tranquility's refrain.
This inaugural chant of love, echoes pure without disdain,
For I swear off the brawl, in love's gentle domain.
Where once I stood, a rust-worn grove, static, stark, alone,
Rushing to women and vodka's call, a raucous, rampant drone.
No more do I crave the bitter swig or the gambler's eager tone,
To squander life on trivial plays, in reckless zest overblown.
The thirst has waned for liquid vice, and from dice's call I've flown,
The mirth of wasteful life is lost; to sober thought I've grown.
In silence vast, it's enough to gaze, upon your lofty eye's domain,
To watch the sky in your orbs dance, and forget all former bane.
And by your side, to forget the past, that you may never again roam,
That in the face of bygone shadows, you'll find with me a home.
Erasing every trace of yesteryears, that you may never by your leave,
No other's call shall you heed, in this new magic weave.
You tread so lightly, my precious smile, if your heart but knew the void,
How a rogue can love with fervent zeal, by fierce passion overjoyed.
How a libertine, once untamed and wild, can become so demure and coy,
His heart can surge in dutiful tide, a reverent, tender employ.
To fathom a reprobate's tender care, and see him humbly deploy,
The love that in his depths were hid, now in sunlight's gleam and joy.
The tavern's lure, forever lost, would evade my restless feet,
Poetry's verse would mean naught if your cold arms were my retreat,
And if I could touch those frost-kissed arms, and your autumnal hair so sweet.
Let me feel the chill of your embrace, fall's flowering guise complete,
To know the softness of your skin, in the fallen leaves' deceit,
As if touching the season's finale bloom, so delicate, so fleet.
Eternally I'd follow you upon this Earth's expanse,
Distance would shift to trivial space, with each tender glance.
For the first love I sing a tune, a soft, untried advance,
From the tempests of old I part my way, giving peace a chance.
Again, of love, a newfound song - with sweet, melodious cadence,
First time away from strife I sway, in love's echoing resonance.
Wonder’s Darkness
by Odin Roark
He knew wonder well
It could cancel fear
And bestow courage
A nexus for survival
A predawn beginning
His solo-climb of the face
Thought crazy by doubters
Had started swift and easy
The results of plans
Rehearsals
Confidence
The wall’s darkness was his own
Anchoring piton after piton
Securing each meter of ascension by feel
With unharnessed confidence of mind
For this was a climb of defiance
Knowing few if any
Might or would
Ever understand his exhilaration
His unique love of climbing-chalk and sweat
Carabineers and rope
Anchors and ascenders
Tenuous connections to life
All married to his inner eclipse
Yet at the halfway point…
Exhaustion appeared
Adrenalin waned
His pendulum traverse had missed
Time seemed to stop
Flesh and rock collided
Bringing cold panic
Seizing breath to hold
Suspending threatened fate
Even as the skill of a spider
Had kept him safely vertical until now
Death’s harassment had not been part of the plan
His back rested against cold granite
The lead taste of blood from his nose
Conflicted the balsam and cedar fragrance
Gusting up from the valley floor
Fifteen hundred feet below
His straight down reality
Minutes passed…
Awe and respect
Life’s often ignored necessitude
Hung together with him
Against the sheared mountain
Some predicted his dreaded finale
With tenacity as partner
Calmness merged with a blanket of sunrise warmth
The crisis became the past now
This test of tests faced completion
His mind eased back to a climber’s trust
Careful feeling about
Delivered firm grips
Precise movement
Renewed determination
Moving him deftly toward the descent team’s cheers
Waiting on distant topside
Resisting aid
He reached the summit
And gathering minutes of needed rest
Even amidst the accolades and glee
He prepared for the hard part
The trek down the backside
This blind climber knew
Like those with eyes to see
Exhaustion can make even a simple return route
More dangerous than the climb
With the descent team
Assisting his tired body
The crude trail carved
For bushwhacking
Brought danger often missed
Until it was too late
Loose scree
Roots of trees
Ruts and rocks
With sightless vision
He maneuvered the precarious path
His certain smile becoming contagious
Moving shaking heads of doubters once
To embrace a blind climber’s wonder
As their own
“Birth day” is the actual day one exits from the womb, (thereafter, “birthday”, is but a colloquialism for the anniversary of that birth). Well … today is mine. I’m finally old enough to drive … (times 4.56!). Now, I’m old enough to vote … (times 3.476!). One of my sons, too, this month, will become a half-century old … which makes me realize: I’m older’n dirt!
It is truly amazing: Once you reach this age, it really, truly is incomprehensible that so many years have passed since taking that first breath – because our minds don’t allow us to think we’re “aged”! Our thoughts tell us we can still lift that couch … or a 100 lb. sack of seed … or a box of twenty books. But … the actual attempt proves our minds still have their roots in the concrete of yesteryear, while our bodies are entrenched in the reality of … today, (that’s easily confirmed by a quick glance in a mirror!) Contrary to popular belief … we are NOT as “young as we feel” … and to defy reality by allowing our minds to trump our body’s limitations, when it comes to physical exertion, is courting a hospital stay – or worse.
For those of us whose physical attributes have waned, we have great difficulty in accepting the fact that we now are relegated to the task of “watching”, not “doing”. That’s the final hurdle we, of necessity, must overcome before we can truly accept … aging. Our children, whom we used to tell and guide in what they could/should do, and when … have now matured. We’ve taught them as best we could, and it is now their turn to drive the carriage – and, if we’re lucky, and don’t try to “boss” them, we may be asked to become passengers.
There comes a time when our day in the sun becomes a rocking chair in the twilight. We need to prepare ourselves to recognize that change of circumstance and situation.
It’ll be difficult for some of us … because WE’VE always been the one “in charge”. If we are to survive with our dignity intact and retain relationships with those we love … we have to find a way to hand over the reins – and MEAN it – to the next generation which we ourselves have spawned.
Our remaining decisions will be: Whether or not to re-bait that fishing hook … or what channel to watch … any decision more meaningful will need to be made by … our kids.
I. The Virgin
Dimpled white dove of a girl,
tell me where did you go
when I opened the little door
to your cage--
did you flutter, supple and blushing
into the half-moon's glimmer?
Floating on the breeze of girlhood,
did you caress the cheeks of new lovers
as you whispered by?
Did you sing the songs they yearned to hear,
those secret virgin songs of canaries
and the pinkest of May's blossoms?
Tell me, virgin, where did you go?
II. The Whore
And you, young tigress with
patchouli-scented heart, how did you endure
when men exchanged secrets of your naked
body while you slept?
In dreams they whispered,
"Jezebel," and you clung to the sound of it
tell me, how did you feed your sweet
milky light to moth-men, even as
your soul's moon waned and drained you,
your body devoid of light?
Who guarded your nymph's soul from harm--
tell me, whore, who nourished you?
III. The Mother
Mother of mushroom, mother of sprite
tell me how you gave birth to an angel
by the light of the full moon,
squatting on your forest bed of moss and memories
tell me how you became only a flood of nourishment.
A cloud of light. A safe buoy of love
in the vast, startling sea of the world
and nothing more. Not for your Self.
When your angels have flown from you,
will you mourn an empty nest?
Will you be broken, or will you be free?
Goddess mother, tell me...
Who will you be?
OLUPONNA: MY LAND AND TERRAIN.
Oh my mother land; wealthy in soil
To my grip held so highten; not soiled
So cultured and nurtured in legendary
To a land whose worth is never lost in form
Will I soon be so held up in apostasy ?
To forget thine beautiful terrains and slopes
The contour rich in overview than none has
Welcome to her broad-day light of sparklings
I told my mama not to let go
Cuddle me more, on the vent
To thy bossom full of blooms
Heartily warmth in thee to survive
She had her emotion to train
Let go her feelings to take over
Off the truck! Gone to the village
Then in despair of holding my heartaches
Even number to parity, a space of oddlines
Oddity easily known, hers was agility signified
Onus laid on her was to make a legacy to trail
And that she heartily did, her type' s rare in millions
Oh my memory not vague in rust
Get a sit, don't entertain a rush
So I'll paint her image on this crust
That her good deed be linked to her cross
On the furrow of the farmlands set miles away
To Olomu; the archives of the tons of products
To Odanla; the gazetters of hazels and expectants
What have you got to offer to myriads of waiters?
Oh Yeah! To the arsenal of thy strength
And the fort of thy fortress in strength!
The eulogy which is second to none
The artillery and the fighters of war
Omo olofa mojo, omo ola nlomi "abisu jooko"
Ijakadi loro offa, ija peki abe owula, biko base
Oju ebe lofa; a soju poro loko, iba soju oloko iba lawon, O soju agunmona l'Offa, o soju agbele yarara.
In the centre of thine beauty
Romance of taste in cultural reality
Oh come to ojude Oba, gladen thine heart
In the rhymes of beat on the path of gongs
Moon smiles to her heart, on a meadow
As her breast full of milk smile from window
Even if her men were waned, they'd join the lyrical
Oh a taste of memory s would never have!
God bless Nigeria to a united stand
Bless her, let my motherland blossoms
As gold flows her ways, let myrrhs and
Frankincense meet all her daily need (Amen)
Excerpt: Descriptive Poetic rendition .
A loving memory of good old days, from farm to School. Tis so beautiful to relive good memories.
(In happy memory of my mother; Aderinola Taiwo)
Written: December 30, 2024 for Contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Fearful individuals may find claustrophobic environments enticing. He battled his formidable opponent Cacoethes for the final two furlongs and won. By Poet
__________________________________
Time vanishes softly, as inky fog at dawn!
In an instant, life is twisted sans pretense.
Finally, the long-awaited time has drawn!
Obsessed by an unrivaled urgency sense.
If every tree in every forest could be a man!
And every single stalk of greenery is a pen.
If all the leaves on each vine and tree dewy!
Shifting to a fragment of pablum is hooey.
Who seeks an ember if you have a fireplace?
Drained cheeks ignited the sparks that drew.
wolves and cubs engage in an iron wall mace.
My roosts kept a modest sneak-in under view.
With gentle hands, she cradles me tight.
A fleeting form of a fading sketch in twilight.
Each vertebra is a tower, a dainty delight.
She sketches my shapes in the depth of night.
This time of vulnerability, to lend and stake.
Were morrow...a halcyon after-saga of tonight.
Warm, awe-inviting rule kisses summer sake.
A dreary, aureate opulence accentuates the plight.
With each eerie shudder, my world feels right.
Muscles tensed, then yielded to my fight.
Unraveling the katabatic abyss from sight.
In softness and poise, our hearts bear flight.
Fanciful as a fabulous facade in golden sapphire.
Amid a seraphic secret, sealing a silken time.
Sparkle smiles in the forlorn orchid oasis fire.
Oiling, wooing Romeo-Juliet as equinox intime.
Her chapped lips suss, a whisper so slight.
Fingers flutter as flowers, a fragile delight.
A cherubic child in her arms, a joy, in her glow.
Amid ambrosial amorists, we waltz in the snow.
Dusk rises, pushing light back to reveal moonlight.
Boundless ash waned, but a watchful gaze remain.
My gasp, a blaze is out, and I'm going for the night.
Divine light dispels worries, allowing verve to sustain.
Balcony beckons, and brisk breezes bite.
I caress the soft breeze as our souls ignite.
Yet, a scent softly settles, as shadows shiver.
Underneath unkempt nails, darkness sliver.
I see her there in our backyard,
Pushing our youngest on the swing,
Were it just six short months ago
She would’ve been my everything.
Back before I could understand,
Before the scales fell from my eyes,
Before the truth of our marriage
I did come to realize.
Six months ago I was working
for an architectural firm,
we were making big skyscrapers,
plentiful money did I earn.
But then a big client left us,
and the money became real tight,
me and eight others were laid off
after that nothing did go right.
At first Monica was smiles,
“You’ll find another job, you’ll see,"
but the market wasn’t that great
so things didn’t go that smoothly.
The first interview went nowhere,
she said,”You will get on in time.”
The second ended just the same,
she said,”Well something you will find.”
After two months the support waned
and annoyance came to her eyes,
so I did part-time in fast-food
to bring in some cash on the side.
I thought this would make her happy,
it was money and it was work,
she just snarked,”Yes, all little girls
dream of marrying fast-food clerks.”
After that it seemed every night
she would give me a snide comment,
until the first fight erupted
that she purposely did foment.
Every night was the same refrain,
how I had fallen short and failed,
every day I pounded pavement,
but it seemed to no avail.
Before long I slept on the couch,
and all chance of sex was gone,
she couldn’t look at me without
implying that I had done wrong.
The damnable thing about it
was that my wife herself did work!
We had no danger of starving,
but she still made every day hurt.
I even caught her late one night
flirting with some ex online,
she just shrugged,”At least Danny still
Is getting paid for his time.”
At this point, five trying months in,
when It seemed my life would be robbed,
a rival firm gave me a call,
then offered me a full-time job.
It didn’t pay quite like the last,
but I was making ample coin,
that night we did have sex three times,
Monica no longer looked annoyed.
At first I was glad just to work,
grateful to cover all my costs,
but as the weeks went flying by
something continued to feel off...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
In a realm where dreams dance in light's embrace,
Desiree dwelled with an enchanting grace,
Her name a symphony, a tale to unfold,
In life's grand expanse, a story of old.
With eyes like pools of liquid grace,
Stars reflected in their shimmering space,
Galaxies whispered secrets untold,
A universe within, a story to behold.
Her voice, a melody, stirring the soul,
A river of silk, making broken hearts whole,
Magic woven through the air's gentle trace,
A soothing balm, pain to efface.
In twilight's realm, a friend I did find,
Desiree's company, a salve for the mind,
Laughter and songs after choir's fire,
Two spirits entwined, soaring higher and higher.
Beneath the moon's silver and soft caress,
Dreams took flight, hearts free to confess,
Her laughter an echo, sweet and fine,
A serenade of joy, life's melody divine.
Yet as autumn leaves fell, emotions did twine,
Like trees in the wind, a dance so divine,
Beneath the starlit curtain of night's embrace,
My heart's hidden whispers set the soul to race.
Truth unveiled, feelings laid bare,
Friendship's foundation, a dare to repair,
Fear danced between gazes that met,
Love's confession lingered, a silhouette.
In her eyes, a gentleness waned,
Love's tendrils tangled, emotions restrained,
Our once-pure bond, now shadowed by doubt,
A tempest of feelings, swirling about.
Fearful of loss, a treasure we'd known,
Connection once vibrant, now subtly overthrown,
Yet trust remained, despite the strain,
A friend's drifting course in a sea of pain.
Time arrived with bitter goodbyes,
A whispered farewell, beneath somber skies,
Hearts heavy, two paths to explore,
In life's labyrinth, a bond to restore.
Desiree's tale, her eyes a gleam,
A soaring voice, a distant dream,
An enchanting spirit once held so tight,
A lesson in love, and in courage's light.
But let this story not linger in despair,
From broken bonds, strength takes to the air,
A phoenix of hope from ashes will rise,
New dawns await with promising skies.
Remember Desiree, aglow in name,
In life's grand tapestry, a chapter's flame,
Every ending births a fresh, hopeful start,
An inspiring journey etched within the heart.
“Mother”, someone we adore!
Unconditionally loved ,with secrets that are stored.
...But for me, something is different than before.
Now, I am incomplete and adulterated at the core
When there should have existed so much more.
My nurturing days have irreversibly waned.
They were taken away, discarded, and stained;
Given back to me, the “no-mother”, drowning in pain
By a man with no more face and no more name.
My children now only know deceit, limits and fear,
That they were born and just that they are here.
But what do we call her (me), mother dear?
For all they know is what’s alive in their tears.
The ‘mother’ in me arises
Through the lies, and to her ties;
Attempting to hear her children’s cries.
The seething male simply smiles and sighs.
A wretched way to be torn apart;
Reduced to nothing, accused of a no beating heart.
In my children’s eyes, I have no part.
For the of truth of my love was twisted and distort.
My body and soul disposed of, shoved aside.
The abuse of love showed no remorse, only despise;
From the man which I once did love and abide.
He would ,from the world, forever try to hide his lies
In an instant this woman leaves her heart aside
And she escapes her bondage, her heart desperately cries
Her children’s heart broken, left behind
Her only hope for all... was for her to survive.
Lingering, the mutilating damage caused
The malefactor laughs without applause
Sacrificing his children without pause
Only in his death will this demon be declawed.
He shouts out loud in his kingly quest still
Selfish to the bone, icy and chilled,
“She’ll be unhappy, and I’ll be fulfilled”...
And it is my will and, “ I have the right to kill”...
One man’s drive keeps no one alive.
The woman (and mother) in me holds on one more day to strive
Building hopes and dreams of the one’s she loves the most into life
While watching her children closely, but surely, not die.
And just for today
I didn’t live a lie.
Just for today, this different Mother’s Day
I allowed my self to once again die.
Tomorrow, again I will live to fight another day.
For Motherhood is mine to reclaim!