IMPERSONAL IMITATION
complete
meticulous
devotion
framed
stereotyped
motifs
of
immediacy
envisaged
emanating
perspectives
observing
change
in
acquired
sentimentality
OCCASIONAL HIGHLIGHTS-:-
spatial
values
establish
uncomprehending
indifference
so VAGUELY ENVISAGED
pin-pointing
precious
insights
threaded
effusively
in ELOQUENT METAPHORS
located
engagingly
special
presentable
prototype
lightning
ignites
euphoria
in
progressive
gestures
of
synthetic
spheres
reality
overwhelms
&
extinguishes
utopia
a spectacle
inherited
paraphrased
yet
still
envisaged
fascinates
oscillating
an
individual
sense
of
the profound
trembling
boundless
&incessant
Violet grape purple envelope
Beholder of your wildest dreams
Holding all the things you long for
Bursting joyful at the seams
Held in gentle mystic splendour
Locked, entombed, a treasured case
Sacred thoughts possessed so tightly
Coccooned within this hidden place
Wrapped in warming rays of sunlight
Imaginary classic trope
Bestower of the dreams envisaged
Violet grape purple envelope
Words echoed that should never have been spoken.
Fiery accusations leaving hearts broken.
Twirled anger erupted, stabbing as if by a sword.
Vile innuendo from both of them, poured.
Shattered crystal, the statue she threw.
He barely recognised her, behaving like a shrew.
He glared in disbelief at the ugly scene.
Gone now, the adored devotion that once had been.
All culminating in a crescendo of bitter screams.
Her heart pounding, she envisaged her forlorn dreams.
The mirror depicts a virtual war zone.
His departure left her fragile and all alone.
She kicked the crumpled dress, realised her leg was sore.
The smashed perfume bottle still spilling across the floor.
My land of tomorrow is a secure place
In the dreams I can visit sometimes
I’m looking to see your adorable face
My beloved, my soul, please advice
Is there a way to be with you
For the rest of my god given time
I’m sure that you know what to do
And somehow you can drop me a line
How to get to the place, where we can meet
Again and again, like we did before
I live on my side now, tell me wasn’t it
Envisaged by you, not so long ago..
Hate is on the screen and page, satan is seething in righteous inversion at this
This stage; of our age.' In paroxyms with contortiions Another abomination he parades, will you bow down to the
Statu-te? By now no doubt its been printed and lauded in
'The Age?' Who devoid of empathy.' Could have envisaged
This sad day? my heart is crying, my mind reels; and my eyes are sore, at this 'evil in disguise' this is an attack on human expression' on the right to err, and learn' it will take
Lattitude from our children.' By this no respect is ever to be earned, may its instigators face correction at the very hand of
Fate! for they are supping from a cauldron with the content
Denial and denigrate' where will children find the
Lattitude? Where can love dialate? Not in this airless tomb
I offer.' Its the lowest of dis-service to the state.' For the truth
There now is perjury.? And free expression made a lie.' Art
Is dead for the soul has fled ' this is not the way to true freedom.' It is just more gilded lies.!
First Law (Inertia): An object at rest stays at rest, and an object in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by an external force.
God is the ultimate power. Without His approval nothing happens.
He is the invisible external force.
I can do ...Only I can do.
The personality traits that we have in our youth
Life - the game of Chaturanga.
We’re the pawns in the game.
The Almighty is the box-to-box player.
Age takes away one’s power and charisma.
Gradually we realise...
‘Nothing moves without His order.’
He is the game changer, and the invisible external force.
God is in control.
When it is envisaged, we look to Him.
Eventually, our hearts fill with sublime joy.
Sit back and reflect on
Everything that's passed.
Passage of time
The clocks ticking fast.
Enjoy each moment
Making sweet memories.
Before it's to late,
Envisaged and embrace
Rejoicing life's mysteries.
For life is fleeting
All we have is the now.
Live life like a butterfly
Love everything you see
Sunset approaches follow your dream.
breathing life
into envisaged giants
our days were long
but calling
we finished standing
these stones of time
their face our face
our hands were bleeding
as we sank into the ground
left a future in our wake
diminished
we knew we had to do it
but to their colossus
we now rest in peace
to set all peace to come
I didn’t dream you into existence,
I didn’t dream you into my life,
I didn’t dream you’d ever love me,
I didn’t dream you’d become my wife.
For sometimes things can’t be envisaged,
Sometimes things can’t be foreseen,
For my dream hasn’t become my reality,
My reality has become my dream ...
The clock heralds midnight,
Yesterday has dimmed its light,
Its troubles chauffeured past,
Hopeful lights are cast.
Every day casts its dice.
I sojourn paying the price,
I'm awakened to a new day,
Grateful for the trestles that bore yesterday.
A mirror of myself,
The archives on my shelf,
Yesterday added a book,
I wonder as I look.
Who had seen yesterday’s lane?
Who had envisaged the course of its rain?
Dawn opened the door,
I was faced with an unyielding claw.
May 6, 2023.
Writing Challenge - 'Y' Words - Poetry Contest,
Constance La France.
TRACINGS
so
pleasing
conversation
diffused
imbued
varieagated
in
deep sentiment
uppermost
identity
reawkened
a
passing
ressemblance
envisaged
&
beholden
an echo
of
a respectabilty
played out
in
twylight
splendour
TRACINGS
so
pleasing
conversation
diffused
imbued
varieagated
in
deep sentiment
uppermost
identity
reawkened
a
passing
ressemblance
envisaged
&
beholden
an echo
of
a respectabilty
played out
in
twylight
splendour
ATTITUDES
ever rising
in
temporary
affirmatives
&
hidden
uncertainties
in
conditioned
optimism
a
radical change
envisaged
of
time unlearnt
with
reciprocating
gestures
of
mutual respect
ever lasting
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.