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Long Emotions Poems | Long Emotions Poetry

Long Emotions Poems. These are the most popular long Emotions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Emotions poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long Poems
Long poem by Cyndi MacMillan | Details |

SYLVIA, FOR CRAIG CORNISH, FOR ALL PLATH FANS

                         
                           It is a terrible thing
                           To be so open: it is as if my heart
                           Put on a face and walked into the world.


                                          Sylvia Plath, Three Women, 1962



_________________________________



SYLVIA

Sylvia, ever lucent, ever opaque,
an incongruity, a clever imbalance               
that spins collections her hounds facilitate.  
Failures and fractures she bravely lanced
with noncompliance. Reader, rebuff collars
labeled as forewords, smug introductions, 
for Plath’s voice is tenfold more a scholar 
than those receiving undue benedictions.    
Lofty beggars seek to bookend her words
and that empty space she instinctively refills
with her universe, a mayhem that girds,
unapologetic. Mirror images spill
over margins, searching for identity,
negating preamble, snubbing apathy.   

Negating preamble, snubbing apathy
with language that flickers, catches, combusts,
her volumes of wicks, her lit soliloquies,   
glint behind the stained-glass of trust.
There are those who are not really here,
they wander fault lines then crisscross chasms,
lost pilgrims who easily commandeer
unwary emotions. Some hearts just spasm,                         
pulled by their own nature, their delicacy,
for poetry is a weakness; poets die
between verses. Odes can become elegies.
The thin-skinned hear a snared rabbit cry,
and pray for the moonflower, always closing,
while cursing that page, unmoved and dozing.

While cursing that page, unmoved and dozing,
she corners rigid guides, keeps fingers poised,
synchronicity goes, the flow of typing
disappears, mislaid, that perfect noise
of a carriage return, a sound exclamation.
Joy is inspiration making its way home,
her Olivetti forages like a raven,
gifting found nouns, verbs that glare like chrome,
but love still flits, turns from hoarse requests,
and she longs for more than any man can give
for what snags worn ribbons will not rest,
it emits a strong beat, throbs as it loves.
Bless the bitter of life, all wisdom owing,
curse the open heart, its shadows showing.
  

Curse the open heart, its shadows showing,
for worldly delights take full advantage
of the wounded, their brokenness growing.
Everyday beauty wrings arteries, dredges
chambers with barbs, a prompt disobedient.
Fact, there’s no folder large enough to hold 
elation’s girth, no ink conveniently
on hand to black out depression. So, scold
the yew, its roots and branches reaching,
then poke at petals for being complacent, 
when all the while a candle is preaching
of give and take, surrender, luminance,
So, carefully archive apprehension,
revealing blue veins to tender lesions.

Revealing blue veins to tender lesions
requires much more than a room of one's own,
hours do dissolve, days lack cohesion 
when milk sours and tantrums are thrown.
Solitude is in short supply, loneliness,
however, is overstocked; her mind tugs      
at busy hands for attention, such darkness
contrasts to jammy smiles and sleepy hugs.
Elusive titles whimper each morning,
and short stanzas steep, so desperately,
all the while a manuscript is scorning
her swipes at dry crumbs, cold pots of tea.
A life sheds its months, gallows take delight
as sundials atrophy in the arms of night. 

As sundials atrophy in the arms of night. 
the moon blanches tidepools, suckles sand,
even the face of the clock is pulled too tight
and the new calendar can not understand
that writing is sex, is fresh bread, is air,
that time is a brute, quick fisted, rough,
that weeks come and go without a care
that a marriage vow is never enough
to mend adoration, repossess bliss.  
Words make better lovers, rarely stray,
upon her lips, the impression of a kiss
feels as cold as sheets then melts away.
Paper sops afterbirth, accepts her all:
fossil and seed, shackles and free falls.


Fossil and seed, shackles and free falls,
unlocking visions, defying any cage, 
art resists validity, upsets stone walls  
to scale the scarlet heights of a rampage,
to breach the barricades to euphoria.
She excavates id, bares teeth at ego, 
plays the parts of illusion and phobia
then infuses rhyme with soft indigo. 
Colossus begins to shrivel as Ariel
unmans him, riding hard upon metaphors,
and will remain strong, constant, ethereal. 
but curtailed are epics that still implore  
like the cusp of dream long after you wake

Sylvia, ever lucent, ever opaque.









 

 
* For Craig Cornish, whose contest inspired this piece. Thank you, Daddy-O. 




About this poem

This is my first crown of sonnets. It took over 25 hours to write, a full week of me-time! 

These are modern sonnets and the syllable count is extremely loose, intentionally, as it would seem odd to keep things too tight when writing of Sylvia. If anything, I regret not being even looser, altering syllable counts DRAMATICALLY. Also, I used a great deal of slant rhyme for the same reason.


I really wanted to capture Sylvia Plath with this poem, and it was a real struggle. Her language is so precise, and I wanted to do her justice. I had wanted to feel, upon its completion, that Sylvia would have said, "Well, it isn't quite horrible. Not bad for a novice. And there are parts of me there, but only the smallest bits." I do not feel I did this.  I feel like I didn't even TOUCH her mastery of language. But, it is good enough for now.. one day, who knows? 

Oh, Sylvia's typewriter was a Olivetti Lettera 22. It was portable!


Long poem by ravin Gupta | Details |

My Princess Of Imagination

                                        MY PRINCESS OF IMAGINATION
                                       -----------------------------
                                       -----------------------------

You are an empress of Heaven who descended on earth
A dear angel of God has taken birth

Your presence brings an awesome fragrance of joy
You are more beautiful than the Helen Of Troy

You resemble a symbol of peace, calmness, wonder and cheer
Like numerous scented flowers engulfed the entire atmosphere

Your presence enthralls the atmosphere with such an ardent passion
Flowers bloom, birds sing, oceans roar, Heaven rejoices in a supernatural fashion

Being a stranger but yet so familiar is an experience of mystery
I wanna be with your present, wanna be with the dreams of your future but never become your past history

I know nothing of you... but your life is a holy book written so well
Synonymous in nature to a religious novel

Every word of which would be so pious and divine
Their utterance will strengthen my soul and make it purely refined

And every word of which I wish you would share with me
And I would keep on listening with extreme curiosity

Hope this book of your life is so lengthy never ending and complicated
That while explaining me with clarity, your entire life is dedicated
Going through your inspiring life will make my mind so captivated
That in things of the world my attention will be never diverted

I would sync deep into your thoughts dreams and emotions
Explore your life like navigating through the depth of mighty oceans
The facts of your life will be as delightful as your nature
Synonymous in experience with a lifetime adventure 
                          to be remembered forever

I wish I was a memorable entity always alive in the vicinity of your thought
Some one who gifted u a special feeling which is beyond the scope of being bought
Spiritual connection with you is magical pleasure. My soul rejuvenates a lot

Your life is extraordinary, it is an eternal bliss
Similar to such a wonderful voyage, the bitter past I shall never reminisce 

Your soul resembles heaven's beauty filled with an angel's grace
I wish to find rest and comfort in such a sacred place

Worldly creatures are mesmerized by your supreme fragrance of serenity
The peace u provide, the calmness u bring resembles an heavenly entity
Synonymous to a medical replenishment of decaying souls to repair all their defects
Such that all disturbance, grief and sorrow are conquered and lose their effects

By the holiness of your spirit every evil existence shall perish
This divine revolution will leave behind only sweet remains to cherish
You bring forth the delight of eternity, a heavenly aura and shine
Which enlightens, encourages depressed souls, their lives renewed and new hopes defined

The everlasting impact of your presence inspires me to build an immortal attachment
And reside under your shadow which symbolizes an abode of holy settlement

I observe a pattern of silence in your behavior
I am unsure if this is part of your natural gesture
What is the reason for this sense of melancholy strain?
May be there is some trauma which brings you pain
Some moments of life you spend in mere solitude
What made u acquire such a lonely attitude?

I pray in your life there must not be any sorrow
Even if there is, I would willfully like to borrow
Any cloud of darkness over your life is beyond my tolerance
No power can besiege your holy throne of reverence

Alas and at last, there is something to say
I am striving with a pathetic feeling of dismay
Why I am so helpless that can not talk to you
Why are you a stranger? Am I some one so new?
Albeit a stranger, why I feel myself so close to you

Its my dream to talk to you for indefinite moments 
To disturb this peaceful conversation, i would'nt prefer ugly opponents

The passion of my imagination is beautiful far beyond the facts of reality
Where in I understand your holy life book in the sacred place with sanctity

I believe you live on earth but exist in the wonders of heaven
Alas your presence in my life may be something I am against hope hopen

Wish for an opportunity to express myself to you
Seems an awkward desire as u consider me so new

In the vision of my imagination, I will always find you near
Your divine presence eliminates any syndrome of fear
And I promise to cherish your presence in my memories till my days are over

I recognize your adorable nature rather than your beautiful look
I already defined you Synonymous to a precious holy book

Wish these feelings on your mind will have a profound impact
Finding acceptance in your life is still an unknown fact
Unknown is whether I bear that supreme fortune to experience your acceptance
Or Else you would consider me unimportant and indulge me in repentance

Wishing you all the best in your future endeavors
To honour my thoughts, please do me some small favours

Give me a true promise that you will forget me never
Request you to cherish these thoughts in your memory with pleasure
And edify yourself as heavenly princess as you are an eternal treasure

Thank You


Long poem by Andrey Peysin | Details |

Purity-Love

Freed from my mind
I escape it
I end time
I think it
I think nothing of it
I believe in you
I believe in the American Dream
I think of it
I think nothing
I know you are something
How is it found 
Where are you going
Where are you flowing
the child is christened in the name of beginnings
I think it and it appears
I make it
Golden 
Slow
Shower my notions
Employ my emotions
Destroy my devotion and crush my spirit
Gaunt
So hear it
where do I enjoy you
I see you
How dare you make me feel you
I don't know what to believe but I hear you
I entertain the notion that you are with me
I believe you are near me
But the truth might be sullen
So broken and sudden
Lee...Quite, I train thee
I believe you are not ready
I believe you are rock steady
How quite faulty
You are my enemy
My devoted
My first born
I am so often quoted
who am i
No one
I tell you
I am nothing but me
I dare you
How can I be anything other then me
I am someone who shines
Like it or not I don't care...don't wine
How could you
No you don't know me
You don't show me
I don't believe anything you did anyway
How could I
I am your friend ..not your enemy do I
Look at me
I think of nothing of your desires
I don't care
I think it is so amazing that you think I am flaunting my emotions
I am not
I am devotion
I am heart and saviour
Know my soul
hear it
Feel it and send me on a spirit chasing car ride like a fly trite respite
I think it
Feel me
I think nothing of it
I am enjoying your pain and I suffer
It is so pure that you laugh and I wonder
How could you believe in me
I don't understand thee
You 
I don't get you
How could you be someone I care for and let you
Be me
How do you
I do not know what you do
I just know that you do and you do it well too
How. Destroyer of worlds 
You amaze me
I don't care for your words
I am action word; phase me
Trust
I forgot what it's like
lust
I feel it daily
Like
It or amaze me
plainly
Live die young
and escape me
I am more and more ranked and how does that take me
I don't care about games, I play them too often
I lose quite a bit and enjoy them not too breach it
I think
I wonder
where do you hold regard for my trance verb
I wonder what you'll do next in this causative turd
It is just that
It is just a wonder
I don't care what you do because doing it tears you assunder
Don't
Engage in the enemy
I slink forward and left of me
I see something coming out of you
Something dreadful and something pure
I think it is clean and dirty at the same ****ing time
How can I end it, how can I end this rhyme
I don't actually know, I don't actually care
I wonder where I left my ****ing underwear
Where what who why 
When do I leave the time beat
drummers never learned to retreat
I think they just walk and walk the beat follows
 how could you know the facts when you learned just to swallow
I think...damn girl you know it and you know it well
Question my rythm and cast a damn spell
So..what is left
I think nothing is here for me
But the truth is ...it remains hidden from me
Lolz. I think it is funny as hell
However divine I have never been in it oh well
I think...wait a minute hell is on earth it is not a place deep
it is here and oh damn that curse
I think it is magical, how can it be so ****ing real
I am such a spiel
I think and it happens
It just appeals
I wander
It makes me slender
I think I lost weight when I enter the rhyme world
I enter devine world
I think well oh well how I left it and hell 
It is...Yes it is
It is truly a miss
I am wondering why I have never just kissed ...
you
I am
Wondering
But simply stuttering
I leave myself out of it
I am so plain and cluttering
I think
How dare you make me so plain
I mean
damn girl you hate me too much to say
I think you just wanted to twist the handle deeper
push
I want to make you happy...so just make it hurt
I crush
I think
damn
It is so wonderful
it hurts but it's plainly cursed upon me
I don't care ...just stun me
I am at least careless 
she wanted to just caress
I wanted to make her mine
She wanted to spend my...time
I wanted nothing more and now
I am alone and all the time in the world is left ...shone
I see it
lolz I don't care but I'm deceived by it
I think
How dare you
How can you make me into something or other devine and not like a brother
but really
I am so pure and destruction is so meaningless
I am so feeling less
I think...wait
I can't feel any longer
My heart ripped asunder and I am so blunt
Like an instrument forced by the way you want me t ojust glance at your breasts
but the rest...it's like a beautiful test?
yes.
Just a test
A test in time
I think it is just a rhyme but the truth is I am being tested by G-d 
How could I know what I have done, I have not
When I do it I do it I don't just believe it
I don't care for the rhetoric
I don't deceive it..
I before e except after C and that is the question I place before you
How can you care about appostrophes and comma's 
when there are more important things in life
Like...Love
Isn't that enough?


Long poem by matthew harris | Details |

Letter to taeljejohn

uncomfortableness, and hesitation arose that you might reassess a possibility for friendship or.... whatever with me.

A disappointment set in place in the event that based on some facet of my being (inexplicable flaws within this corporeal human male), forecast that an about face (booked on charges inherent in this googly eyed, earth-linked, kool hotmail of a yahoo) would be un liked!

Juno what i mean? 

In retrospect, no matter that this average boyish chap desires enjoyment, he admits that ordinary punctuating various stages of development difficulty coping found him msn (miss sin, missin, missing, et cetera) on ordinary interpersonal experiences!

No matter yours truly usually finds me each morning, noon or night conjuring up maximizing temporary residence on this planet earth versus bemoaning those futile and essentially counterproductive mind games sans could a, might a, should a, would a...

today = the moment to cherish, enjoy, help others, ponder the remaining years
since fruitless to expend tears
for suppressed emotional, financial, grammatical, hormonal, physical, and spiritual angst
 that roiled mine inner sanctum - mainly from decades in the past
   which unseen scars with humor this fellow (who by the way likes you) wears!

Notice the sly inclusion of my comment per -- affinity, desirability, rhapsody for you
although just but a mere inkling prevails about an ye taelje john thru
a rather contrived manner - albeit an online adult oriented website - amongst a slew
which yields to this bipedal hominid a scant few
initial responses - as if a ghost app paired in the recipient email - going boo
which unwittingly seems to turn the ivy blue!

So...no matter a constancy of follow-up electronic communiques occurs from ye
bringing tears of joy, that nobody can see
while simultaneously delivering digital glee
a reality check restrains proclivity and predilection to let thoughts run wild and free!

Immense and immeasurable mounts in moi little rock
inducing an electric arc for myself to kin neck embedded in all this schlock
for a sixth sense arises that this holme body strongly suspects yar self 
 to generate sunny watts as an s spy she lee Sherlock

but, reticence to gush with ebullience reins in a cascade
of utter delight washing o'er this less than satisfactory mwm 
 who as a boy and youth happened to b a frayed
of his own shadow - while walking along the boulevard of broken dreams
 listening to the sounds of silence on a green-day.

Thus => the following from one 

Cerebral being ™ in the am and pm
 
This ordinary human
Finds himself a mystery
Within the terrestrial
Firmament and frequently
Feels in a feverish pitch
At his existence
That seers the temple
Mounted upon this slender
Frame - wrought by the
Combination of genetics
In tandem with exercise
Which latter helps to
Sublimate the coiled 
Tension wound tightly 
Like an indestructible spring 
Without a healthy medium at large 
To channel emotions fraught within
Me might find demise
That would rent asunder literate fellow 
And thus annihilate without a trace
One true valued father of two us special
Lovely lasses as just another statistic among 
The obituaries!
 
As the world turns (indiscriminately oblivious of the harrowing days per one simian), an agreeable, amiable, edible, immeasurable, likeable, pleasurable, sensible woman (such as yourself - predicated on a gut level intuition) goads more seriousness to share

Plaintive unheard heart strings o mine that wail
Displeased with this marriage fraught with travail
As if in a maelstrom whip-lashed vessel without a sail
Yet - averse to lambaste or rail
Against abby (whereby we pass like two ships in the night) who married this male
When each of us happened to seem more similar 
   And thought each ourselves to fail
At any endeavor, though now confidence 
   Buoys my heart while she doth ail

And exemplifies attitudes, beliefs, efforts, 
   Idiosyncrasies, pathos that life does rot
Ill suited to Matthew Scott, 
   Whose bon vivant manifesting faith in him
   Perhaps from herself deferring many domestic 
   And child rearing tasks not
Of course being boasting - even when scissoring the umbilical cord
   As a now beaming papa, whose daughters 
   Blithely ignore "mother" a lot
Thus necessitating this quest 
   For a counterpart to offer succor 
   To eden (age 16) and shana (14 on february 4th, 2013) 
   Yet accepts that i must dispel any dreamy fantasy even this ours - a mere jot
At this juncture knowing full well how unwise to set myself up for disappointment
   By thinking and rushing like a fool, 
   Where angels fear to tread
   Though "chutzpah" i got!

U r slowly filling my mindscape with joy
Thank you so much - for accepting without complaint how atypically words this writer wannabe 
   Named Matthew Scott Harris dozen ploy.



Long poem by Andrey Peysin | Details |

There Was No Escape

Treat others how you like to
for they will treat you how you want to
be ready for absolution for it will come
I have seen it plenty of times and it is done
I know you want to believe in me
I know you want to see me
I want you to desire and receive me
I know you think it is the pain and pleasure mixed
this brings out the best in a quick fix
like it or not I don't care
I think of all the things that make me stare
into an abyss filled mind
I am empty inside.
Hollow and crazily veiled a fool's note
I am so shallow
Desire me and make yourself known
I am so beautiful
So vein as well
I have never seen heaven
not even hell
I think I am in one, not the other
the improbability of it is that you've my lover
How dare you
How do you believe the things I have done are not real
How can you feel
How can you feel
How the **** does it make you take you and break you
into little pieces the size of my heart
I am desired by all...from the start
I started to believe in you
I started to design
the things that i wanted to do to you with you and by you
I think those things were taken apart by a little known vermin
I think and the thing is that it is so churning
my stomach is crushed
I am demoted further down
I am left bespoken
Likely without a sound and a mouth to speak with I have received this
I know you
I know you know me too
I know you are so dead to the world; to my heart you are so new.
question me
Despise me
Devote nothing more than your lies to me
How dare you
Do you know who I am
Do you realize I am more than a man
How can you question your reality
I am here
you are there
You are not something to believe in me to be thrust upon me
you are truthful
Yet deceiving
Die alone then
I shall not care
I shall just stare into your void of a beautiful
I know you
You are so lustful and dutiful
I shall never realize but maybe I will know after I die
How could you
how could you DO THIS TO ME!
I question my sanity
Left with a brittle stonehenge for a trusting heart
Instead...I depart with a crazy beautiful mistake
I now take...you apart and make you seem less than real
I know you are something someone to feel.
I am mistaken
but never so taken by someone who is so vein and so lustful
I am so distrustful
How can this be
I am so left aback and taken
I am so ****ed up and so broken
Be with me or leave me 
But let me know what it is going to be
I need to know so tell me NOW
I dare you to make it into something other than this
I want to believe in the thing that is
You are
You are so fortunate
Quite distrustful into the fire I am thrown by you
I am so fated...my heart rearranged into a blossom
I think it is now awesome
Grand and spectacular, how you are vernacular spread upon my table
I am so thankful
Treat me with respect and I will make you not regret
I am your savior
your one and only
You make me think of the things that make me adore thee
How DARE you, do you really think I LOVE you?
I do not even KNOW you, what are you all about
Are you here to taunt me, to flaunt yourself and spread your desire upon me
I am so flaccid
sometimes I think of myself inactive and dead upon a doorstep
I think nothing is ever broken
but my heart lies unspoken for
Like true dirt-less desire spot on and spotless I cry out to you
I am broken; you are the death bringer
The heart never rendered by your touch ; you stringer
Along of the many things I have done
I KNOW you, I know everything! 
The way you make me feel the way you make me stray
How can you believe anything is real in this world besides me
I am here to make you want me
I am here to make you want me
I am going to make you want me and escape from the reality of the one true verse
Of course; take me into consideration and make me into an action word
verb me. I am yours
I am forever taken
I am forsaken and broken and something like a word that is stolen
Listen to me
Make me believe in you
Make me something like a story and make me swoon over your corpse
your heart melts into mine
Likely story she said
I am fine
No
I am breathless
Break me and take my corpse into the void of your beautiful mind
Like a story that has taken ages to write
I am giving you this
I am receiving nothing in return
contemplate the possibilities you have learned
that there is no heaven nor hell nor escape
life is all there is and feelings are what it takes
your emotions are here and now
you want me or not that is what is real now
I am with you, you are with me forever
I am yours so take me
I am breathless
void-less and clever.


Long poem by Chris D. Aechtner | Details |

Frankenstorm 2012: A Haunting of Shelleys

A Cardinal darts past, and I cannot quite discern if it chirps out of nervousness
towards the impending storm.
If so, the twittering of cell phones sound far more nerve-wracking -- 
portable typewriters encased in the soul-less facade of laissez faire; 
of keeping track, of minding the flocks. 

Yes, everyone is a poet these days, tapping away on miniature, plastic typewriters,
typing away the next narrative filled with prose pretending to be free verse.

Whether the majority is truly poetic or not, Frankenstorm surely is poetic;
named after Mary Shelley's, Frankenstein. 
The poetic justice of it all amongst a tragedy of broken necks and drownings, 
for the Shelleys were the epitome of Romanticism -- 
not of ritualistic bouquets bought from the florist who sells porn on the sly, 
or of waxy chocolate made by children in clandestine factories built from the bricks 
of Mao's dreams of anthills and selling short the power stemming from another poet 
turned arms dealer.

No, the romance for life itself; to become poetry as poetry turns into us. 
To find mystery in everyday moments; to distil this mystery, offer it to the reader, 
so that the reader becomes drunken, swooning in a stupor towards worlds 
that are 1,000,000 light years away.

Frankenstorm, the Haunting of Shelleys, lashes out at the dead poetry of today; 
at the empty, listlessly inane, lazy poetry of today. 
The brightest stars are falling into a void, turning away from the very essence 
they so wish to express....only because they want to be unique, to be original, 
to carve their own niche into the Jack O' Lanterns of a Hallowe'en quickly turning into cheap, dollar store decorations. 
They still have hope. They still have hope, even if many further detach themselves 
from their emotions with another dose of prescription pills meant to pacify; 
meant to reign in the emotional beasts of imagination, until only zombies preserved in formaldehyde, remain.

I can literally feel the Haunting of Shelleys ask wot has become of us.
It used to be about work ethic and soul - one had to kick, tear, bite, simply to publish 
a pamphlet that might be read by 10 people. 
Nowadays, everyone is a supposed poet. A few clicks, 'submit', and people from all 
over the world can read cotton-candy couplets, or a free verse rendition of another grocery list.
But we must embolster this with: 
"They are only beginning; they need to express themselves; 
they just don't care."

I don't want to be told about the pain, the tragedy, the beauty, the love. 
I want to be shown.
I want to feel it.
I want to feel it squeeze my gray matter into a bitter-sweet drink; 
I want to feel it go down.
I want to feel it warm up my heart, grip my stomach until the bottom falls out 
and I am left careening down a shaft in an elevator with a broken pulley and rusted-through brakes, and just when I think the end has come, the elevator bursts through 
a bottom which is actually the ceiling of a world now turned upside-down -- 
and by the time I right myself, have read the last line, there is still a remaining mysterious periphery of the cats that reside in the corner of my eyes; 
purring, waiting until I come back to re-read that particular poem, 
for it is so tantalizing, I want to come back to it over and over again 
for the remainder of my years.

Storms will always come and go, 
but I sensed the metaphorical message of the Frankenstorm very strongly. 
Yet this doesn't mean that I will turn the message into fruition. 
But I will certainly attempt to do so.
Within my delirium, I will continue to try distilling the intangible 
into a drunken tangibility; even for the sake of simply trying.

And as I ponder, as I witness the present decay of humanity, 
witness the state of today's poetry, I can only wonder how many more 
Hauntings of Shelleys are possibly already brewing.


                                                                                        October 31st, 2012
___________________________________________________________________




My thoughts go out to those caught in the path of Frankenstorm 2012.
Such events move me very deeply.

*I have already posted this prose in a blog, because at the time,
the character-count exceeded the limit of poem posts.











.


Long poem by south aqua | Details |

Unexpected events

My watch is broken, I can not wait for you to get here
The sun is heating,(I cannot believe) today, we're finally meeting.
I'm not quite sure how I'm gonna act or what I'm gonna say
But of one thing I'm sure, when you'll be in front of me, you'll take my breath away.


While I'm waiting, my mind is flying away
From the moment you'll get here, to the first move you'll make.
I just wish, this day to be perfect
I hope I'm ready for any unexpected events.


It's getting late and you're nowhere to be found
I'm getting all kinds of emotions, but is nothing I can do about..
The park is empty, looks like the rain is gonna arrive
I guess I should be going too, nothing makes me stay around.


Maybe you got stuck in traffic or you've just changed your mind,
Either way, I better go now, maybe we'll get to meet some other time..
And now my battery is dying, I have such a lucky day,
I don't think this day could get any better,
           >>no 'eff!n' way!!<<


Where should I go now? to the hotel or to a pub?
I'll get me something to drink before Imma call it a nite.
I don't find my card key, guess I'm losing my mind..
Huh?!
 Who the 'eff' are you 'my friend'?
 Why do you have to honk so loud?


    you: Hey!!!
    me: Gosh, you scared me!
    you: Where are you going? don't we have a date?
    me: Hey, you're the one that got here late.
    you: Yeah, I'm sorry. look, I've been running all the way...
    me: Cool. I'm glad you came.
           I'm starving. where you gonna take me?
    you: well, since our picnic is ruined, thanks to the coming rain.. 
           lemme take you to my favorite restaurant..
    me: sounds great. OK.


While in the car, you've turned on the radio
And the silliest song was playing in the air
Smiling, you looked at me and started dancing
Gosh, you're amazing. (that's what I said)


We've got to the restaurant
It's getting pretty hot
No sign of the rain now
Guess she just changed her mind.


When I stepped inside
My favorite song was playing .. so loud
And once you've heard it, you took my hand in yours and smiled
you: Hey, this is our song since now!!


Since then I got this feeling, this awesome feeling inside
I'm with the right person and the nite has just begun
You're full of surprises, beautiful and kind
For me you are so special, I'll roll my dice tonight.


Next thing I know, we were back in the car
The music was playing loud, you were driving too far
The last stop we've made, was at the hotel I'm staying
You grabbed me in your arms and .. and then's when it started ... raining.


The weather gets colder, your hand is on my shoulder,
I ask you if you want to come and wait inside.
The fireplace is on, your clothes are on the stove
I bring you comfy clothes, while you're in the shower.


The rain is falling from the sky, the night is deep, looks black and white
I pour you a glass of wine while getting closer.
The electricity goes off, all of a sudden
We're in the dark, the music stops - I lit (up) a candle.


Looks like the rain has stopped now (or for the moment)
I pour you another glass of wine..
I touch your hand, you're grabbing mine
And pull me closer.


The last thing I remember, you were playing through my hair
I felt your (warm) breath down on my neck and I've kissed your shoulder
Slowly, you laid me down, on the floor, whispering something in my ear
Your fingers were walking down my spine, I've closed my eyes.. that's when we've kissed.


We've spent the night together, sleeping in each other arms
I was your blanket, you were my pillow - the dawn was coming fast.
I woke up and.. watching you sleeping
You found me smiling when you've opened your eyes.


Things went so fast - time was flying by
Only four days, until we say goodbye.
All the sand from the beach, the pictures framed in our minds
The scrambled eggs in the mornings, (all those) kisses (stolen) through the night.


While I'm counting the seconds, my mind is flying away
From the moment we've met, to the last thing you'll say.
I just wish, this day to last forever
I hope our story will never have an end.


In the airport, while waiting for our planes to come
Our silly love song was playing one more time
And once again, you took my hand in yours and smiled
That's when you've asked me, if I want to be ... your wife.


Long poem by Dylan Irvin | Details |

Waters And Skies

I.
You can always tell by the eyes
When they’re starting to go
You’ll fall for a few of their lies
Before you begin to know
And you will just defy it
(But they know you will never go)

They’ll glide through the waters and skies
The erratic behavior will soon begin to show
Above and away the storm dies
A cold, hollow feeling in a black and white glow
And they will justify it
(But you know it will take them slow)

You’ll slowly begin to realize
Static is policing their echo
The red stitching in their burnt Eye
That will probably never unsew
And they will just deny it
(But you know they will always go)

II.
The phantom’s days are aphotic
Ocean whispers deicide to Moon
The morning clouds aquatic
Reaching the waves with a bent spoon
Mind is lifted and neurotic
The Earth will come back to you soon
And you won’t feel so erotic
While alone in your hotel room
(Sex with the city sleepers)

Alive where Death lives
Gone where the waves go
Asleep where dreams wake
Dead where feelings die

…A light where the stars are burnt…

III.
Bid these feelings words
The machines of waters and skies
Embody the gliding emotions
Like clouds they shape themselves and go

Write this bidding to feel
Remember the thoughts that were
Like waves they flow and fade away

Rid these words of feeling
Feel anything at all, fall…
Like wind they take and they stray

Feel these words to rid
The masks and chains of oneself
And the dark feelings that boil within
Like trees they raise themselves and grow

IV.

Ocean dreams of phantom mechanisms
The world is cold and full of ghosts
They watch as their generation swims in murk
And the funeral of social segregation will never breathe
The night mirrors reflect the soul of a poet
Only one comprehends these idiosyncratic vowels
Like waves they flow and fade away

V.

Under the white and blue cloak
The clouds are my poet smoke
Rain is the cleansing of wicked nights
With venom pollution and spider bites
That flood my mind with a static tan
Vanished through the wire, I already am

VI. 
Her clouded eyes they lock to me
I, a sight she was not meant to see
My ghastly ripped soul exposed
Our deepest feelings transposed
And I know this one’s a lie
A worn exhausted sigh
Printed from the pressed death within
Those eyes seek Life all over again
(Her flawlessness the only flaw)
(His flaws make him flawless)

VII.
Phantom is high and dark as crow
Moon showers greetings below
Ocean mirrors it’s divine glow
Cloud attempts to steal the show
Earth is screaming, we ignore it though
Mind is planted and dying to grow
Life is tired and waiting to go
Static is torn and ready to sew
Death is late and killing slow
Eye is two and one doesn’t know(Shhh!)


VIII.

The flames scorching the depths of Eye
Splitting the reign of one into two
I met Satan at the gates of Hell (Phoenix)
Only to be spit back to Earth like scum
Half alive and crawling through the moor
Realization was the key to the shining door
Oh my god, I’m one. Eye am God.

IX.

The mountains between the waters and skies
Keeps dreams from reality and pulls reality from dreams
Mind faces fears of the night mirrors and reflections sleep
And the liquid light of the moon opens a gateway
Where dreams don’t sleep and strength never weakens
A world where control doesn’t slip between the seams
Of your sewn mind… 
(Free yourself from the shadows of life and death)


X. 

Through cataracts in the skies
A distant moan begins to rise
Through an uncharted cloud
Of a puddle yet to be in drops
The fruit sky shrieking aloud
In a garden of iridescent crops
With blooming pollution in clad soil
Entwined in a cumulonimbus coil
Morphing into a levitated brook
With a broken and faceless rook
In a receding horizon losing it’s form
Cackling out to the tempestuous storm

Flashes of embers in skies blink
Flooding the faintly seen brink
Of the distant washed away galaxies
Pygmy slowly galloping through
Rolling clouds in the skies of aquatic blue
A delicate touch of colored waves
Painting rainbows on sea graves
Where pirate ships set sail
Through a violent pour of hail
In a limitless sky of falling streams
And an icicle ocean of drying dreams
Through cataract jets in the skies
A static ambience calms and dies…


Long poem by craig cornish | Details |

Jane Eyre Crown

I shall not live as in a room of red. 
I was not born to be what others presume
And stay within that state until I am dead;
Punished within my own hellish doom,
Scratching at the walls that others build
And those which I construct to block them out
Until my world becomes so cold and chilled
Or in the darkness I dare not move about.
Who is not God that looks upon my form
And sees a child that never will a Lady be;
Will never visit peace where truth is sworn,
Forever cursed to live among the Reeds.
None are truly orphaned in God’s eyes
Those who “use” God will fashion their demise.

Those who “use” God will fashion their demise.
Like Headmaster Brocklehurst  uses piety for gain
And rules like many of his kind with tyranny and lies.
These lessons learned within my soul forever will remain.
But a gift of destiny would shine a loving light;
A friend who will forever remain in my heart –
Dear Helen, who could find faith and hope in bleakest night
And spread her love and smile even on departing.
Here, in the midst of this tribulation
I found kindred spirits I have never known.
Helen and Ms Temple, who both taught me patience
And I left Lowood into a lady grown.
My image peers back from the dusty pane –
Are you ready for what lies next dear Jane?

Are you ready for what lies next dear Jane?
How much more could my brand be tempered;
How close to the fire before molten puddles remain;
How much of this life will I cherish when remembered;
Or will these years pile upon me until I beg to leave?
No matter, I will never bend to self pity
Nor gazing at my visage grieve
Or think my lot in life was petty.
This time at Thornfield, no matter what it brings,
Whether I am queen or governess –
The only wound to soul that truly stings
Are those that tween my self-worth slip.
Demeaning barbs like Lady Blanche has thrown
Are those like all the rest I’ve known.

Are those like all the rest I’ve known,
So hateful, why must they demean,
While Master Rochester – in his eyes I’ve seen a glow,
Also, deep within, are secrets still unseen.
Shadows that drift like a storm may never go,
Like a raging fire never to be quelled
And forbidden truths much too hot to hold,
Disguised now as a Gypsy he’ll foretell.
Could he truly find love in me and not Blanche,
And if so, should I flee my own yearnings
Within which my spirit sings and dances,
But then, through all the rest of life, what have I learned?
Yet, this is caring and belonging I have never seen,
Still, I cannot forget where I have been.

Still, I cannot forget where I have been.
Will I stay someway in servitude?
No matter what I wear – what will others see,
But if I run will regret forever be my mood?
No, I must marry this man I love – Adele – this place.
Where he is, is my only true home,
But to the hidden truths I awake,
This secret kept, I will not condone.
This terrible burden now upon us,
A mad woman locked like the madness of this all;
This life of mine again unjust –
Too much pain for one life to allot!
For my own sanity I must say goodbye.
Please dear God, be with me, at my side.

Please dear God, be with me, at my side.
This place, this situation, I must flee
If only to be me for more than pride,
But for my painful heart to believe.
At Marsh End I am at last equal.
Love and friendship have a guiltless exchange.
Here, I am no longer fearful,
Still, I think of Thornfield where a part of me remains.
I now know that others love me for who I am
And my value in this world is real.
I’ve even been proposed to by another man,
So more hidden doubts can be unveiled.
The inheritance I received may be a sign
These trials I have endured are left behind.

These trials I have endured are left behind
But not the value of lessons learned.
The journey henceforth is truly mine
To share with whom my passion yearns.
From far away I feel Edward near
And go to find the castle in ruins
What have I done – for my love I fear;
My head races with so many emotions.
This heart, this love, was pent up in anger,
In a world which I … did not trust.
Within myself, and in your arms, there is no danger –
No walls to block your loving touch.
I am free from what I dreaded
I shall not live as in a room of red.


Long poem by Mario DE PAZ | Details |

Moderna Commedia, third Canto, second part

Italian version. (continued from first part)
Tale è l’orror  che assale la mia mente
Di quanto ho visto e rivissuto prima
Da ridurla al silenzio più opprimente.
Pian piano poi risal verso la cima
Creando ancora immagini e illusioni
Senza lasciar che la paura opprima.
Vedo levarsi in ciel celesti aironi
Nell’ampio sfondo di colline verdi.
Della Natura ascolto i dolci suoni.
Quando del tempo la nozione perdi
Ampia la tua memoria si scatena
E nei ricordi il tuo pensier disperdi.
Nell’atmosfera che mi avvolgea serena
Dolce m’apparve la figura amata
Della mia donna di sorriso piena.
Il mio sguardo rivolsi e concitata
Tentai la corsa ond’esserle vicino,
Però la mia movenza fu bloccata.
Fu allora che compresi il mio destino
Di non riuscire a dare un pieno amore
Anche a chi adoro. Restai a capo chino.
Ma lei mi corse incontro con ardore
E mi abbracciò stringendomi al suo petto
In gioia trasformando il mio dolore.
Mi risvegliai felice e allor di getto
Scrissi su un foglio tutto il sentimento
Che ogni parola esprime con difetto.
Che dir della mia donna? È come il vento
Di primavera che accarezza il volto.
È come un bimbo che ti ascolta intento.
Da lei lo sguardo non è mai distolto
E nei suoi occhi trovi l’infinito
Limpido come un fiore appena colto.
Nel poetare il mio pensiero è ardito
E si libra nell’etere leggero
Cogliendo nel ricordo storia e mito.
Si esprime al meglio solo se è sincero
Parlando del sentire le emozioni
Che nascon dall’interno per davvero.
Descrivo allora alterne situazioni
Truci vicende e angeliche atmosfere
Che vanno verso opposte direzioni.
Perché la vita è fatta per vedere
Al proprio interno tramite il reale
Creando conoscenza ed il sapere.
A conoscer s’impara bene e male
Ad accettare senza giudicare
L’opere altrui seguendo un ideale.
Lo spazio d’esperienza è come il mare
Grande distesa aperta ad un vascello
Che la percorre libero di andare.
E coi riflessi d’acqua è sempre bello
Anche se il vento provoca tempeste
E a multiforme vita dona ostello.
Del sole e delle nuvole si veste
Immutabile fonte d’esistenza
Simbolo azzurro delle menti oneste.

Translation
Such is the horror that assails my mind
For what I saw and relived before
That it was reduced to the most oppressive silence.
Then slowly rises toward the top
Again creating images and illusions
Without allowing fear to oppress”
I see to soar in sky heavenly herons
In the wide backcloth of  green hills.
Of Nature I listen the sweet sounds.
When of time the notion is lost
Widely the memory breaks its chains
And in remember the thought is disperded.
In the peaceful atmosphere that enveloped me  
Sweetly appeared the beloved figure
Of my woman of smiles full.
My gaze I turned and excited
I tried to run to reach her nearby
But my movement was blocked.
I knew at that moment my destiny
Of not being able to give complete love
Also to the one I adore. I stowed with bowed head.
But she run ardently at me
She hugged me pressing me to her chest
In joy transforming so my pain.
I woke up happy and then at once 
I wrote on paper all my feeling
Which any word incompletely expresses.
What tell of  my woman?  She is as the wind
Of springtime which caresses the face.
She is like a child who listens intently.
The gaze on her is diverted never 
And in hers eyes you can find the infinity
Clear as a freshly picked flower.
In poetise my thought is dashing
And hovers in the light ether
Picking in the memory history and myth.
It expresses at best only if sincere
When speacks of feeling all the emotions
Coming from inside it for real.
I then describe alternating situations
Grim events and angelic atmospheres
Going towards opposite directions.
Because life is made to see
Within itself through reality
Creating awareness and know.
We learn to recognize the evil and the good
To accept without expressing  a judgment
The work of others according to your ideal.
The space of experience is like the sea
Large expanse open to a vessel
Which runs on it free to navigate.
And with water reflections it’s always nice
Even though wind provokes tempests
And to varied life donates hostel.
Of sun and  clouds it vestes
Immutable source of existence
Azure symbol of  honest minds.


Long Poems