Long Wearies Poems
Long Wearies Poems. Below are the most popular long Wearies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wearies poems by poem length and keyword.
Time in shadows slips away
Like the sun to dusky grave
And there I find the vivid past
When sun in shadow melts at last
No shades of ardent grey
No stars to wipe the dark away
But time I know keeps secret pace
Beyond the utmost breach of space
And there at length is a place
Where memory lives and breathes today;
Perhaps tis madness it so seems
That in my mind a power beams
As though the spirit of a star
Burst and furled all its heart
And with a crush and sudden swoon
Of light upon the hills of doom
Its double iris then so bright
Entranced the world to sooth its plight
Like rays of frozen light do thaw
When hurled from the utmost air
As when Olympian eyes first saw
The love that sparkled there
Then in a vapor hurled round
A comet flashing to the ground
It struck between the jaws of gloom
And burned in me the thought of you
What thought as idle fancies may
A plaited robe to hide the dross away
For time is dross upon the heart
Which wearies most when it must part
To part alas no star may cry
As bright as lovelorn raving eyes
For I have stood upon the hills of doom
And in their darkness thought of you
But doom or darkness will not pass
Like time when wearied at the last
And men have shuddered at the quake
And all the spheres no music make
Some spark of star may ramble on
The ruins of some gallant sphere
Some comet burnt of icey bier
And with its flash revive the morn
There my mind with power strives
With thoughts like comets toward that light.
Actor
factor
Actress
finesse
Icon
beckon
Stage fright
one’s plight
Playwright
in sight
Big star
goes far
Bit part
false start
Lead role
lifts soul
Star cast
so vast
Screen play
per say
Box smash
makes stash
Huge flop
might drop
Sitcom
Aplomb
Reruns
big guns
series
wearies
Fluffed lines
crowd whines
Encore
for more
Contract
intact
Wide screen
makes scene
Cartoon
at noon
Ghost flicks
use tricks
Broad script
equipped
Big break
I’ll take
Sad film
on whim
Long plot
such rot
Freeze frame
fair game
Lip sync
with kink
Flashback
gets flack
Montage
homage
Ad lib
so glib
Drama
trauma
Vignette
typeset
Time lapse
handclaps
Broadway
heyday
Climax
brass tacks
''
I relish, I cherish
All my happy happenings
turn delicate saplings
to be planted in my memory garden.
I nurture and nourish,
keep them fresh to flourish
spreading branches of joy,
rejoicing me off and on or all on a sudden!
I cherish happy happenstances,
those stirring emotive instances
of blissful bygone days!
So many lovely memories
flash, sparkle in bright rays,
chasing present wearies-worries.
My dreamy desires look behind
rapturous reminiscences to rewind.
Posy of sweet stories in series
blooming as flowers of memories.
I relish
to ruminate long-lost past
I cherish
tit-bit fragments of events
with Grandparents, Parents,
my siblings, my friends, and my love,
dearest children over above!
I cherish all memorable moments.
04/06/21
First Place
'All Yours (Apr 30 ) Contest by Brian Strand
As you walk
without hesitation
without gratitude
Seemingly,
without fear
As you walk
back to your place
of power and privilege
You still
require her to smile
As you walk
past the place of humanity,
brokenness
shrill echoes
of shattered glass
You still
require her to smile
As you walk
back to your place
of power and privilege
Her silent screams
and muffled dreams
are washed away
By the vault of indifference
that slams behind you
she is resigned
to a slow sifting
hourglass of isolation
Yet
you still
require
her to smile
She wearies
of the preparation
of submission
a mask that suffocates,
her pretense of desire
But she is
the
entertainment,
the
meal,
the
pleasure,
the plaything
Her belly aches of
raw foie gras, figs
and Bergerac
It no longer matters
that her soul
is absent from this feast
She gathers her body
stained and sweaty
from your momentary
remembrance of her
The violation
puddles
in quiet places
She submits
to a place
of self-loathing
She knows
that
this
is not
the last
of green men
that will require her to smile
In the depths of silence, when the moon sings its melancholy tune,
I lose myself in the whispers of the wind, seeking an ancient rune.
On the paths of night, my steps echo like falling stars in flight,
Through labyrinths of dreams, I delve in search of a call so right.
In the mirror of the sky, the wishes of a lost soul reflect,
Like a rudderless ship, on the sea of mute time, adrift and unchecked.
I listen to my thoughts, like incantations long forgotten and old,
In every silence, I uncover secrets of a world untold.
I repeat magical words, like a hypnotic nocturnal rite,
I lift my eyes to the stars, seeking an esoteric insight.
I am but a traveler through shadows, on a never-ending quest,
In cosmic solitude, I find myself and decompose into the vastness.
On the wings of the wind, I carry my desires like flags unfurled,
Old hopes intertwine with new in the song of the vague waves' world.
I am a poet of silence, writing verses on the starlit dome,
With my enchanted quill, calming the storm in a restless soul's home.
In search of eternal love, I lose myself among divine archetypes,
In every verse, I find a part of me, a part of you in these stripes.
And when the night ends and dawn unfolds its gentle wings,
I learn to love again, under the faithful stars' soft strings.
Through lunatic woods, my steps are songs of longing and silence rare,
Seeking that place where words become an eternal caress, aware.
In cosmic melancholy, I find answers to forgotten queries,
For in the soul's depth, true love never perishes nor wearies.
I am but a wandering soul, in search of an unfinished story's art,
A poet of endless nights, a dreamer of fearless stars' chart.
On unseen pages, I write the words only the moon can hear,
In its light I find peace, in its silence, eternity is near.
What Is It
1.
The man who was my father sits
Wearing the face that will be mine,
Brooding in a place I cannot reach
In a time and space I'll never know
Speaks,when he does, as he never did before.
And so it comes to this, in the end
At least for far too many;
Live long enough,
The mind wearies of its ceaseless
Chasing after things,
Turns in, settles into the greyish No-Mans' Land
Of its Long-Ago,
The attics where the past lives on,
Where the fond and familiar reside.
Not so bad to settle there, I suppose,
Where everything moves through a better light,
Where the rough and uncertain
Goes smoothed and simplified;
The familiar rules, the strange is banned.
The price though, the loss, the erasure
Of so much of the Now;
All that which has travelled with you
Faded to obscurity
And you live among the unknown ghosts.
New day,
Same people,
Different encounters,
Smiling faces,
Straight looks,
Together in a space,
Eyes fixed on you,
Ears wide open,
Minds set on the table,
Waiting to be fed,
Some craving for an overflow,
Some satisfied with the daily ration,
They say, “too much wearies the mind”,
The indolent and lethargic,
Just want to be fed,
Hands feeble to toil,
Lessons for today,
Lessons for every day,
Beyond paper and pen,
Beyond board and marker,
Disputes to settle,
Conflict to mediate,
A middle course to steer,
Wisdom and insight are
needed for each day,
Learning to learn,
Is the motto for each new day,
Making people,
Is the mission statement,
Taking away the dross and dregs,
Is the sole duty,
Helping them find their feet,
Is the ultimate goal.
May 13, 2022.
Ecotone
I did not plant the prairie tickseed that appeared among
The cultivated flowers of my garden and quickly dominated.
It seemed to say, “We live, still!
My house sits in a tension zone, an ecological “no man’s land” where
Tall Grass Prairie and the Cross Timbers, vie for control.
Here the vagaries of weather assure that all who enter are mistreated.
Seasons turn through the Zone as Fall, Winter, Spring,
And the Heat. The moisture-prickling Heat, like a visit from
The in-laws, comes early, stays long and wearies the endurance.
Rainfall is the fickle arbiter of the Zone. It befriends the trees
Almost; the grass too much. Legions of plants, playthings
Of climate, contending over millennia for land suitable to neither.
They were not untended. Cultivation by wild fires, twisting winds, floods
And drought, performed acts of purification and renewal; encroachers purged,
Minerals recycled, seeds scattered, and the arena reset for the endless contest.
But gone now are blades of Blue Stem and pickets of Post Oak.
Red subsoil overlaid with Bermuda sod is my “Sooner” system;
An inanity to the Zone kept on life support by irrigation and fertilizer.
Bermuda minders are hungry yet grow heavy with time
And plenty. They seek order amid uncertainty, and
Shelter from risk, yet cast their lot in a tension zone.
Their dis-ease stems from attempted breakouts of the Cultivators
Struggling to wrest free of human controls. (They who are said to have
Ears to hear a wildfire in its death throes claim it hisses, “We live, still!”)
They are not alone. Homes of the coastal naïf become
Mere tender for Chaparral fires as those of a floodplain
Are flotsam for the river.
Like mallards returning to the same pond
After each thinning by hunters, the unwitting
Rebuild as the Cultivators whisper, ”We live still”
Copyright Paul Thomson 2017
THE UNIVERSE ALWAYS SAYS YES
I had to be
Because
I am
She said no
The no was ignored
He carried on
As it was meant to be.
She lay still.
Thus, was me.
Did not come from the earth
Nor will I be committed back to it.
I had to be.
Because I am.
I said no, no, was not understood;
He said yes, and a new sun was born.
I said yes, but he said I cannot.
She came through the storm of my womb.
He is because I am
They are because - he could.
Determined to be.
She was because I was.
In the beginning, the universe said yes:
Yes, to child fifteen.
A tired womb, a womb wearies from childbirth
She did not say yes- She did not say no.
She knew the answer was always yes.
It would always be that way for them.
He loved them- She loved them…
She survived them -She endured them.
They had to be, because.
The universe always says yes,
the stars always shine
The sun never says no.
the moon always says yes.
So, I had to be. So, they could also be.
I said no. but the answer is always yes.
No protest heard is ever heard.
This thing called procreation.
This act so forcefully committed,
Or so passionately rendered
Mostly without consent.
Sometimes without love.
What must be, will be.
The answer is always yes!
Yet the cycle continues.
I see all these grand-little ME’s
And I know now and understand.
Why the no is always silent.
The ******** of correction stands firm.
And what will be, must somehow be.
The moon cycle said yes.
To the womb of water that was provided.
By the seed, I was conceived.
If not for him, I could never be.
So, I will never go back to the earth.
Nor be committed to the ground;
I never touched the ground.
Until they put me down to crawl.
I stood instead and walked at 7 months.
Days later, I heard a beat-drop, and danced;
The rest of the way.
I stood
Observing in the scene
The rude wind in the wood
During cuisine
Nullify needs
That would have to unseal
The deceits growing weeds
Bye peal
Be loyal
To only unwise friend
You'll be treated royal
Ever unbend
Nullify needs
That would have to unseal
The deceits growing weeds
Bye peal
I know
It is of no use
Never to forego
water from a sluice
Nullify needs
That would have to unseal
The deceits growing weeds
Bye peal
The sea
Of our life's end is unseen,
A ever able caged escapee
In marine
Nullify needs
That would have to unseal
The deceits growing weeds
Bye peal
How waves
Yearn up and down
Dancing to the airwaves
Unruly frown
Nullify needs
That would have to unseal
The deceits growing weeds
Bye peal
You control
The sea listens to be so still
And the wearies are console
Lives refill
Nullify needs
That would have to unseal
The deceits growing weeds
Bye peal
Moonlit River
Paints the calm waves of nature sway
By which humans accompany its diver
In gay
Nullify needs
That would have to unseal
The deceits growing weeds
Bye peal
Peaceful atmosphere
it creates give joy and peace in true guise
Though the treats and love don't adhere
Without prize
Nullify needs
That would have to unseal
The deceits growing weeds
Bye peal
Happiness surrounds
Home of little children good together
Great experience of exposure founds
Change weather
Nullify needs
That would have to unseal
The deceits growing weeds
Bye peal