Long Washed Poems
Long Washed Poems. Below are the most popular long Washed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Washed poems by poem length and keyword.
on the
hour glass track
within time I did stroll
for long while on the sea
shore alone along beach calm
lapped by the waves that rush
from the domain cobalt these crush
with pearls of foam string spreading on the
glistening sands of time that engraves my
footprints I have left walking the present
embedded now in the realm of the past
where they can no longer walk back
but can only watch them being
washed away by the tides of
time into the deep depth
of oblivion while I make
new frail footprints on
the hazy track fading
as I am walking the
remaining stretch
of the last mile
unattached
: November 17, 2024, for Dreams Within Dreams Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
__________________________
“Thought streams manifested the dream
I was both subject and object
Methinks things are not what they seem
Which illusion do we reject”
___________________________
In a twilight tangle, I drift and dance,
Within the blankets, boundaries for stance.
A paper vessel on shimmering layers of glass,
Where whispers waltz, as memories surpass.
Sailing through night, in the moon embrace,
Stars whisper low, in a soft-lit space.
Rivers of concepts, twist and turn,
As I toss and turn, in the heart’s deep burn.
I sew my dreams in a cosmic stitch,
Bridges span from rich to rich.
A stroke of light, through an ajar door,
While alleys of sleep stretch forever more.
I stand on the bathroom floor,
Washed of doubt, I feel the lore
Of hours tick in a soft, warm bed,
Where astronauts float in a sea of dread.
Notes similar to feathers falling from the sky,
Cram my heart as I watch birds fly—
With shackles of time around my soul,
I carry the wonders, the weight, the whole.
Flying through corners, where echoes dream,
Chords that bind and seam unseen screams.
A clock ticks down, in the night’s embrace,
Each second whispers a silent trace.
The concerto of the world peaks to greet my soul.
On palms and pouts, where pleasure is whole.
Months loop as muddled books, marred and broke,
Graphite glimmers, the genius's grand stroke.
So here I stand, seeking and securing solace,
In this canvas of calm, where cogitations promise.
A delightful dream, deftly designed and drawn,
Bathed in the brilliance of dwindling dawn.
“He is not a lover who does not love forever.” - Euripides
I savor each tender kiss from your lips
Your touch stirs great ardor within my heart
Grateful for time spent when we're together
Our lucent love shines despite an eclipse
United as one 'til death we must part
Two hearts are joined without rings to tether
You are my life, beloved destiny
Eyes aflame with desire, your arms outstretched
Through joys and hardships, we walk hand in hand
Great lovers, we are now and forever
Visions of you, in my mind has been etched
Like footprints, together pressed in beach sand
Not washed away by tides; no, my love ~ never
Faithful now, and throughout eternity
Our hands are ours to use
so many things they can do
but the most important point
is the moral state of these two
God has declared His holiness
for His character is all things pure
showing His abhorrence of sin
as God is sinless to be sure
So our hands need be cleansed
no sign of sin in sight
before we can approach God almighty
for all our dirt need to be white
The need is to be washed
in the blood of Christ Jesus
being saved by His perfect sacrifice
believing fully in Jesus you must
Now you can lift up your hands
for they're now been made spotless
so God will accept them holy
now prayer is your promise
Once Upon An Ocean
Once upon an ocean
Ubiquitous blue scratches the surface of the sea
Exposing white caps on the mirrored sky
Wind itches to begin and laps the salt
Orange sun gravitates away with waves on distances
Ships fold and roll, moving on mountains made of water
Sudden storms arise like magic above the rain
Wet to the touch, it cries on sails, laden down with sin
Washed over, slapped in the face by angry seas
Wooden beams baptized by the crash of endless waves
Lumber that stood once and lived as bold green trees in forests
Sky weighs the seagulls down
No parachutes for them
Oblivious to it all
Ubiquitous blue lies on the body of the ocean
Settles with the tides when lands roll in
"There is no greater universe on the Earth than the ocean" Poet
Sailing ships from Boston's Harbor
brave the cold waters of the Atlantic
where storms appear without warning
and take seafarers to the bottom of the sea
Church bells will ring for each one who has died
They will be remembered; the rest sail on
The scent of the sea fills their souls
as they are wanderers of the sea winds
Their face toward the rising sun
with waves churning against the bow
finding freedom washed by their dreams
released from the troubles of life
Moving with the clouds, they follow
trailing the whales that breach the waters before them
sharing a measure of awe, feeling small
with eyes toward the horizon
Becoming one with the ocean
allows their soul to drift away
tasting salt-filled air with each breath
sailing on the sea in a dream
Hail Him, the King of all, of heaven and earth
Of His great concern, am I really worth?
He showered on me his love as pouring rain
To wash away all my gnawing pain
He watches over me from birth to death
In all my life I haven’t known a dearth,
Of anything really worth, health or wealth
I have no reason to complain
Hail Him, the King of all
Through His blood, He has washed away all filth
That all of us shall enjoy heavenly mirth
My soul is rinsed clean of all glaring stain
I open my heart for Him to come and reign
To be enfolded in His sweet embrace after my death
Hail Him, the King of all
. 22. 2022
Your Favourite Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Regina McIntosh
Mother Natures child ….her name is Ocean
Independent , abundant with emotion
When her body of water is clean
Her mood is calm and serene
Countless days she is displeased with mankind
With those humans who are ignorant and blind
Treating her as a garbage bin
Just heaving their rubbish in
The days her waves crash with rage
Her anger has ascended to the next stage
Watching her marine life dying or distressed
From those humans who couldn’t care less
Aware mankind is working toward positive change
Dedication and education maintained
In time no longer a-washed with debris
Her marine life protected and free
The Champion
Controlled by remote desires I trip the laurel fuse of longing ancestry
My Mom had been chosen to compete diving from the high platform of
Hitler’s mania for ‘Kraft’ ‘Freude’ living space terror raised arms and all in
guns blazing a misplaced childhood offered on the altar of manic delusion
Wreaths gathered dust on unmarked graves white crossed monuments
administered torches blazed parades marched lined the ‘Higher Faster
Longer’ ‘More Ideologically Corrupt’ abuse of innocent festival of youth
Replaced demounted sacred Mount Olympus for Auschwitz and Stalingrad
My mother was no Jesse Owens who blackened Nazi dreams of whiter than
white no ‘Black Consciousness Runner’ shoving gloves to the sky in post-fascist
Munich 1972 quite close to Dachau where Jews Sinti and Roma vanished
at the hand of Swastika’s psychopathology for denial distanced denied memory
A colour TV to watch remote from a distance was the closest she ever got to
her dream of honour and glory disgraced by politics assassinated like Israeli
athletes in a continuation and preview of fanatical devilish monsters high and
low jacking innocent sports for propaganda politics malignant ideas and ideals
In 1944 there were no Olympics titanic battles were scrambled instead in
General’s Admiral’s chessboards and tactical blood baths no dives into chlorine
and water just rotting gassed trenches exploding the dreams pawns in the Games
crushing to bone meal the Peace with their tanks and grenades fusing demise
1948 came to London awaking from ruins and rubble and the brain washed
German Olympians were banned from all sports had they not spread eagled
their passion prostituted their vigour for eugenics death Fuehrer and Fatherland
My mother tainted blemished in blood and in water a fallen hero on her sword
09th August
Written for Healing Peace and for the contest 'Olympic Mania'
…fighting for peace with guns is like bonking for virginity
it is a macho world but then women can be excellent killers
the barrel phallus washed from conscience dipped into blood
a thin membrane between defence and aggression heavily torn
who wants peace when they can enjoy the fun of armed forces
weapons of mass destruction with human waste collateral damage
in a second whole nations can be amended and revised into nothing
seized by the fire when the iron is hot in pursuit of violent pleasure
and yet bravery is the courageous merit of never surrendering to
war mongers who are in it for the profits power and domination
who send others to the apocalypse while counting their money
eye for an eye in need for cataract implants and retina detachment
like a condom greed sheathes acts of collusion violence betrayal
of upright values wrapped up in flaccid denial of liberty and life
constitutional rights terminate immaculate conception of freedom
to the rhythm of grenades shrapnel and heavy breathing in death
conscription leads the conquest of foreign fields and genocides
rape pillage and plunder sow seeds of slaughter and trenches
that divide marginalize discriminate in the name of civilization
happiness is a warm gun while the planet looks into the barrel …
27 April 2021