Long Zenith Poems
Long Zenith Poems. Below are the most popular long Zenith by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Zenith poems by poem length and keyword.
Placed at the foot of the mountain
Thunderclaps and lightnings
Treasures buried in the zenith
A journey no man doth dare
One foot forwards, three feet back
Raging winds and biting frost
Coated in the smut of the snowy beasts
Bathed in the blood of conquests lost
Still he places each step forward
Relentless. Tenacious. Dexterous
Foot planted like the oak tree
Majestic in the dust of the enemy
With each step, he moves forward
Balls like steel, he refuses to yield
Drained of the blood of his humanity
Filled instead, with the guts of a billion men.
Still he moves. Each step forward.
Thunders like the neighs of a million horses
Cut with the edges of jagged winds
Covered in an avalanche of ice.
Yet he moves. Courageously.
Crawling like the desperate viper
Each step now like a plea to the heavens
Groans like a woman in labour
But he moves nevertheless
A shock to the distant stars
Making the sun shine in cheer
And the sky to dance in tears
Till he reaches the top.
One hand placed on the treasure.
A man, unknown, reaches the zenith.
Relentless. Tenacious. Victorious.
I had seen - her calm, cool, composed - like a soft soothing breeze,
Though she could turn tempest or tornado or weakly wheeze;
Like a formless cherub in an endless garden of love,
She covered the earth while racing on cloud-Morgan above…!
Lovely you are! I said to her, Love's living conqueror!
Aren't you, yet, noisy nomad, gypsy, or mere wanderer?
I am vagrant sure, she said, and a tireless traveler,
I have jailed you, yet, in my sachet, like a prisoner…!
It was when I moved much away from the maddening crowd,
And when pondered over her bewildering words aloud;
Enlightenment dawned in me like the wisdom of Buddha,
Many great truths got revealed slowly like Brahma Chakra...!
True as very truth is my brief existence in the breath,
Who on this earth exists, devoid of her, from birth to death?
She murmurs, whispers, commands, demands, like Divine Spirit,
She creates! Destroys! Takes to zeniths! Grants highest merit…!
Soft, serene like nectar secreting in a rose flower,
She sleeps in; grows glows like a flower on a green bower;
Consciously conscious! Unconsciously unconscious! Solace!
Plows through the interiors, like Yacht through water, flawless…!
Shifting my state of mind, working like a leaven within,
Sleep, wake - like my mother - in feasting and fasting she's in;
She is the beginning! End! Center! Whole! Totality!
She is the starting and ends of the whole humanity…!
What an engulfing like a fiery inferno and smoke,
What an empowering and overpowering soul-stroke!
What a change, like unique bloom! Great is the life-giving breath!
What Calm! Peace! Tranquility! Bliss! Awesomely saving meth…!
With her, no stress! No strain! No phobia! No mania!
Her free-blow within free from frightening insomnia;
Abandoned to her eternally evolving Spirit,
Body and soul reach zenith beyond the mundane limit…!
Growing high, I gladly come to the realization,
That I'm part of the classic universal cognition;
Wherein my inner unity freely fondly extends,
And to the external eternal harmony, it tends...!
Knowingly? Unknowingly? Willingly? Unwillingly?
Breath has adopted me - calmly, cutely, and cautiously!
Has made me a flute, lute, melodious rhythmic consort,
I play on! I am played on! Till I reach restful retreat…!!!
16 September 2021
We were accustomed to being in the military living in the
barracks, having inspections and following the rules.
Yet, at summer's zenith, my sweetheart and I and our two
friends left behind the Ft. Myer base in Arlington, Virginia,
to spend a Saturday night at Lady Bird Johnson Park. We
had such exhilarated feelings being in our early twenties.
Fireflies lit the pathways, the freedom of that festive nightfall.
Our youthfulness and our revelry shined in that humid
July gloaming.
We drank to the joys of Navy life with Jack Daniel's whiskey
and Boone's Farm strawberry wine. We soon became
inebriated, quoting Poe and Hemingway. What a starry
jubilant soiree, a mirthful moon-blessed eve. All four of us
vowed to keep in touch, then we fell asleep on the banks
of the Potomac.
My love and I strengthened our union, our "Navy Baby" was
born on a late November morning. Our friends we spent so
many joyous times with were gone with yesterday. Years
have passed. My love and I had a cherish of each other,
but there were troubled times too. The decades since that
carefree and heady midsummer night passed too swiftly.
My husband is neath white marble in the Veterans Cemetery.
He passed suddenly and unexpectantly at the age of
fifty-nine. He lived long enough to enjoy our two precious
grandchildren for a few years. He loved them, our daughter
and son-in-law so very much.
I reminisce, I gently dream some mournful nights when
the moon is bright and nigh-
we fell asleep on the banks of the Potomac.
O weary wings washed with seraph's silvers,
weep and bleed over this blackhole heart
as the smoke of moon-leaf sleeps upon my lips ~
I taste lethal liquids with tints of torture through its tender tears ...
neither salvation nor sins can seduce my sacred rhythm ~
since it does not starve for fanged foresights
ringed with feral roses and fatal stars,
as the hymns we hum are our own version,
not destined to die with the deviation of desires
O interstellar intuition
wading within infernal incense ~
I am not elusive,
I am never lulled by the locus of logic …
let the sky u n l e a s h what flows with time
and u n k i s s the mispronounced prayer
as I, a roaring lily spirit stained
with your love and lies, am not alone ~
but the only one closer to the cosmic
q u i e s c e n c e…
I am the heartbeat of the heavens,
handwritten… with the ink of soul
a believer of my own Sun,
the Zenith of my own Zen …
so let live and live, in this pulse of life
for, it is a soulful crown ~
the throne of transcendence
and this spirit seeks to be the truth that twins
with the loyal essence of the Lord's divinity,
as I remain ~ the rebel of nirvana ~ …
In the valley
of violin vines,
when the saffron sun ascends,
and crooning clouds
drift in mulberry cadence,
I let my quivering quill harmonize
mystical moonbeams
splattered across
hushed horizons~
with sparkling strings
of stardust,
as ink paints a
panorama of primrose promises,
from spring scented
sonatas scattered
in symphonic hues
of sangria syllables,
thawing
frost-clutched fauna,
while butterflies flutter
amongst floating florals,
depicting whispers
of my hyacinth heartbeat.
But something about
the way sakura
blossoms fall like rain,
traces picturesque
lines of my
lyrical confessions,
composed like
a chromatic chorus,
that savors
kismet kisses,
of a love woven
with
twinkling
tendrils in
tangerine twilight,
and when you
return like
pirouetting jasmines,
I feel the
ambrosial aura
of Persephone
emerge from
the darkest
caves of Hades,
bringing back
empyrean euphoria,
and here I let
nature unfurl
a choir of
singing sunflowers
and waltzing wisterias,
performing
classical serenades,
amidst trumpet trees
sprouting ivory petals,
in dulcet idioms,
veiling toxic tales.
But today,
as rays of gold
adorn my skyline,
I think of tender truth
transcribed in
theatrical tunes,
like
zenith of zealous zephyr
eternally rippling
blue rose breeze
across Monet’s
balmy meadow.
Our school sails on serene rivers of excellence.
A model of hard work and unfeigned resilience.
Here we train leaders of our century's future,
irrespective of tribe, religion and culture.
Here we soar ceaselessly beyond our sky's limit
by imbibing skills required for our dream's zenith.
In utmost straining and striving we hardly yield.
Yet our persistent spirits know not dismay.
Because our fruitful toiling will brilliance convey,
on this placid and fertile academic field.
In our lofty mission we are second to none,
as we realize our vision of being number one.
Adorable the unparalleled in service,
will make a genius once considered a novice.
Written: December 30, 2023
_________________________________________
Embrace the oxymoron, if you will.
Shall I fool you with monsoon wrath?
Despite tears of rain, life will prevail.
via shattered aspirations.
clouds flirt with slate-azure moon
sunlight kisses the sea at dawn.
wind sighs to trees in plains of lustrous dew.
and scoff at me and you.
as trilling robins show up.
A radiant core of nature's elixir
yet, sunlight will flicker.
cloudless white will appear.
as gold, zenith, and amethyst adorn the sky.
Flaming saffron is poised to streak.
Cureless by modern science.
bare ribs, limbs, and joints fried.
Whispering winds hindered dexterity.
My vertebrae melted, were bare, and broke.
senseless failure to stand or fully expel.
weakened and can't sleep or thrive.
Wairua Worth dark wrath wrecked while
tethered as terms tumble to thrill.
Quill Genesis grows with glorious grace.
while the vile sword is versatile.
Cast aside vanity; dangling merely fits.
Rhapsody hopes to work; ponder if sick.
in shape, rekindled with sunshine
Life waltz beyond light, its nodes drew.
Slightly erratic amid a black haze.
feeling weak, leaving me bewildered.
My soul is cunning and cynical.
earned seclusion as slight streams.
Only gloomy storms entice me.
I hope for sunshine and a light breeze.
Shimmer! Sheer light!
dimming shadows ensue.
My life is on a slippery slide.
spaciously clear passageways.
shimmer! shimmer! before I leave.
subtly allow the warm rays in.
dance around my fading bed.
across the faintly lit abyss.
I should set upward...
The chameleon shuddered profusely,
It had never climbed to the top of a sky scraper before,
The melanin refused to scatter,
It could not make up its mind:
To take after the blue of the sky?
Or to be grey...
Every morning it felt the sunshine gold,
Caressing the slippery unevenness
Like the first waterfall down a nascent hill,
Stealthily through promenades,
And shrieking ladies on the way,
It reached the flies' humdrum festival
On a gloomy velvet cynosure of rejection from the other world.
That day, from the branch it saw the reflection of serenity,
And while it slithered through coffee machine conversations,
Geriatric glasses emanating dismay,
Fervid love affairs,
And lonely, revamped furniture
It reached the zenith of monotone,
Yet either of the eyes revolved unheeding cadence.
The journey had been iridescent,
And the Wind was colourless,
So even though it swayed in harmony with Her,
It didn't know what to be...
And it didn't know how to sprinkle white,
If mimicked the sky,
And so it became grey again,
Like on the trees,
And every dawn.
Muted evidence proclaimed the subtle oddities of night
Lunar time should have reached the zenith of its height
No chirping crickets were heard, nor angry feline brawls
Lacking was the rhythmic chanting of nocturnal owl calls
No lengthened shadows grew where they should be cast
The moon, in pale depression, had only risen half mast
Strange and sullen manner, for summer's interlude to end
As though it were lamenting the loss of a beloved friend
Not just physical in nature, but with heartfelt immortal pain
Darkened was the dead of night for one whose love was slain
In grief there is no consolation, the future bleak and ominous
but there remains a hunger for love, one intensely ravenous
.
i do
az y'all know
by mine writes
have many
10 tuh be exact
and mind ya
they boast uv mine
encounterz
okay
so i have sump'n tuh
do with it
let me tell ya
only 2uv them i dress with
precious metalz
yet they all seem tuh
know what i want
and excite me
with zenith
hahahaha
when they were younger
i would even paint
their nails
i'd even let them put on
my underwear
they all loved tuck'n
me in
well
enough uv
my fingerz
whut