Long Aesthete Poems
Long Aesthete Poems. Below are the most popular long Aesthete by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aesthete poems by poem length and keyword.
*Image of Loving One More by NS.
A Second Please
Aesthete equip upkeep spade, trowel, and watering pail,
Balters out freely, gagging unwantable, grit travail,
Chrysalism advents the righteous eyes and elaborates,
Dulcet forgivings a moment's lapse and recuperates,
Euphoria occasions the receptive hearts embrace,
Felicity's steadies champion the winner's showcase,
Gossamer delicate filter fuses genteel gazes,
Harmonize the Gospel's prophetic parallel phrases,
Iridescence spellbinds above looks and lost impressions,
Justifiable step courses the upright's discretions,
Kindheartedness inherently effectuates the blest,
Lissomeness affects the civilized privileged expressed,
Mellifluous genteel everflowing enterprises,
Nascent origins destined promise epitomizes,
Opportunity avails the well-intent fruition,
Pristine presents its presence post sadden sky emission,
Quintessential innates encryption of a paragon,
Resplendence fashionably enriches the noumenon,
Serendipity ventures impulsive ones they're future,
Tendril's tenacious virility thriving to assure,
Ubiquitously an omnipresence or internet,
Vagary ideals grant causality silhouette,
Woolgathering mulls the lowly, awakes the enlightened,
Xenodochy's hotel's hospitality meets heightened,
Yesteryear traces memories, remembrance reverses,
Zenith's a second, in Abecedarian verses.
2022 August 28
*HMS; 14 syllables per 26 lines.
Lips lustered with Venus-enchantment flirt as
Imagineer steers your swoon to the Moon on a love song..
Beyond oneness with another, the lover and artiste
Relishes color in counterpoise to white rising light, and so flows
Abstracts across a sunrise canvas to laud a treaty ‘tween night and day
Susan Ashley
April 8, 2021
*aesthete: a person who has a special appreciation of art and beauty.
*imagineer: a person who is skilled in implementing creative
ideas into practical form. A Blend of imagine and engineer.
Poet’s note: not for a contest but inspired by the “Star Sign Acrostics” poetry contest sponsored by Charlotte Puddifoot.. Thank you, Charlotte, for the wonderful inspiration. I’m sorry I missed out on entering your contest.
November first two thousand nineteen...
abuzz with Autumnal thrum
Divine myriad biota amidst
heavenly Lily of the valley
(Convallaria majalis),
he didst imaginatively greet
Edenic heavenly terra
incognita immeasurably sweet
nature's ensemble proffering
Gaia's quintessential orchestration
resplendent sensational treat
natural splendour regaling,
this fellow wayfarer
happenstance gifted autochthonous peoples
espied proud specimens unobtrusive
planted armada, viz sleek bodies fleet,
of foot while me accidentally
risking, schlepping, traipsing... offbeat
winessed unschooled tribe,
yet verily synchronized,
primed, muscled... athlete
their soundless rhythmic swiftly tailored
flit to and fro upon poetic
unshod calloused feet
carefully, gingerly, lightly...
I shod dully tread nsync
toward drumlins upbeat
mouthing, kneading, imbibing... glorious
ebullient choral unadulterated feat
extemporaneously kickstarting crisp and neat
pow hour full rhythm across
analogous macroscopic excellent spreadsheet
inducing their sonorous symphonic
roundelay unfamiliar tweet,
whereby flora and fauna future meal to eat
oblivious regarding mine seat
dated existence, which quiescent aesthete,
yours truly basked,
froliced, luxuriated... complete
as once innocent hymnals kindled atrocity
this observer, spectator aghast white as sheet,
how civilization's machinations didst deplete
terrestrial firmament within one fell stroke
eradicated once pristine unbroken
promises chiseled to cheat
rightful owners expansive swath
over yonder til ocean and land did meet
Europeans scoured seas one after another
lumbering bulwarked fleet
exhausting resources while simultaneous
mowing down aborigines
grotesquely analogous harvesting wheat
indiscriminate deliberate genocide
decimating indigenous tribes beat
defenseless against microbial
weapons of mass destruction,
thus only within third blind eye
courtesy invisible paleface with tenderfeet
strictly envisioned Perkiomen Valley
once abundantly populated
with ample game during cold and/or heat
paradise unbroken stretched hinterland,
where place names mock to pay hollow tribute,
where native peoples no longer replete
vinyl city amidst amidst graveyard
lovely bones turned to dust
paved over by mainstreet.
The clandestine creep
Started with a grandiloquent speech
And his surreptitious subterfuge
Has everyone confused
He said "Now grapple with the apple"
He said "has God really said"
Did God really mean that if you eat of it
You will end up dead?
The clandestine creep
Is after Jesus’ sheep
And His hands will reap
And He will forever keep
He attempts to rival God
Even walked where God trod
He attempts to corrupt things everywhere
He is the prince of the power of the air
Once the anointed luminary
Once light, until he was found contrary
Parading as an angel (as one of the guise)
To gain converts for the lord of the flies
Not as an aesthete, he steals
Instead of enjoying what God reveals
He realizes as bell’s knells, as the bell peals
He’s an A.I. of God that never kneels
An artificial insubordinate (A.I.)
Unfortunately, you are real
You’re the Godzilla to mankind
With our blunders we must deal
RAIN OF RAYS
A
certainty of
precision
aspirations
in
a
phrased curve
sidereal
freed
from
vibrations
appropriate
& equivocal
to
facilitate
autonomous contours
a
seductive motif
obscure
consecrated
in the
aesthete
sensibility
an ephemeral proclivity
phases&
scales
of tension
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Please don't think it's love
1.I hate how quickly I fall in love
It happens so naturally, like a leaf falling from a tree in summer.
I grow cosier and sweeter
Hiding in a hibiscus stalk like nectar
2.Please don't mistake it for infatuation
Slowly and deeply, it creeps in me
Like a python, sucking the life out of its victim
It's a temporal digression
3. I watch from the balcony each night as your car rolls into the driveway
Tried to wave or call out your name, like that would push me astray
Pretend you're interested in us as I walk by
Leaned sticky notes on your car, and you only sigh
4. Please don't think of this as infatuation
It is an obsession
Deep-rooted from within
It consumes me inside out, that is what it is
I wish it could go away
5. Please don't think of this as love
I'm just a fan in love with art
Not the artist
Please don't think I am in love
I know it's tough
6.As an aesthete, I adore the way
You flick your brush on the canvas
The rhythm you listen to as you sway
Your brows tingle at every depiction, while I stay anonymous
I notice the little things because I tend to be mysterious
7. Please don't think of this as hilarious
I am not in love with thee
But your work, I am too
Please don't think I am serious
I think I love you
A teen aesthete
wanders to the soul bartering crossroads
down from where the bus let off.
Gathering weeds and stray flowers
of windblown cemetery seeds.
To make a shrine, self inspired,
at the wayside of God.
To lend by ritual, and evocation
the passage of their development
lonely and gifted.
Shrugging off the ubiquitous pack
and taking from within; magical finds
discovered during cherished playtimes.
Collected in a self-adorned shoe box.
Things gleaned from treasure hunts
and fantastic pursuits.
A cache of light:
cat's eye marbles, chandelier crystals,
blue, clear, and green, sea glass
rolled and shaped by cousin sands.
Dull till spit wetted, salt licked.
By wave defying bravery
a pluck of pebble or sunny glimmer.
Run to Mom for her glamor, and approval.
Brought home in playful pockets
from beaches and picnics.
Now artfully laid in tearful grief.
Creating a mosaic of introspection.
The last to set in place
a paint chipped, wooden, geometric
puzzle piece.
An icon of fractured lullabies.
A dream ending; bare feet,
wet pajamas, and a long car ride.
The voices of my present state and feelings echo
down into my mother’s sympathetic ears,
They resonate…in no barriers, she decodes
with her warm understanding and great love overflow.
She hears my footsteps on trails of joy and contentment,
giving me her smiles with supporting hands to go ahead;
She hears my footsteps on path of desolation or in tacit sadness,
Offering her breast and shoulder to lean on,
her loving pieces of advice uplift my spirit, wipe my tears and give me breath.
My fragile emotion easily restores and mends,
Oh, mother dear, your listening ears are your heart’s aesthete!
A rich tapestry of comfort, love and affection,
where all my sighs , fears and sentiments will be laid.
No child’s turgid words in my mother’s loving ears,
regardless of distance, she listens, embraces and cares,
With her sensitive radar system, she knows all my needs
like Tannoys - so loud, supersonic, she hears them all vibrate.
Her ears synch well with her loving heart
Amazingly entwine, they are twosome…
Oh, mother dear, may I touch lovingly your ears with my both hands,
may I touch your angelic aging face as I thank you so much,
This poem is especially for you, I’m sending it with a SWALK
Sealed With my Loving Kiss on this sweet Mother’s Day card.
*Tannoy s- systems of loudspeakers for making announcements
Written: May 9, 2015 10.40pm
-This poem is a loving dedication to my ever dearest mom who is here with me right now. She loves poetry so much. She was my first teacher in reciting poetry. I was inspired to write a free verse poem for her. This is my Mother’s Day gift for her along with my humble art works/ paints, Mother’s Day t-shirt and card.
May I also dedicate this poem to all mothers all over the world. More power and blessings to you all! HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY! MANY HUGS FROM ME!
First Place
Contest: Mother's Ears
Judged: 5/18/2015
Poet Sponsor: Craig Cornish
A Mother's Love, Tributes of Love for Mother's Day
Contest Judged: 5/3/2022 7:00:00 PM
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
Place 1
In my many years before the mast
I’d seen rocks and shoals conspire
To ground me down to powder
Till I was just dust in the wind,
And I’d never even been to Kansas.
I was useless as a one-armed paper hanger,
Skilled in the geometer’s art,
But no closer to infinity
Than the day I’d started out.
Just a journeyman aesthete
Dressing drywall plaster
With those tapestried patterns
Favored by the rich and famous.
But, being a lifelong learner,
I learned to breathe.
I learned to eat.
I learned to say, “No.”
I became a student of the universe,
Composer of the mini-verse,
Somewhere to the left of Earth.
Mainlining the vagus nerve
On the highway leading home.
And there’s no place like home.
I must be doin’ somethin’ right.
VARIANTES
inescapable
mysteries
clarity
so perplexing
sleek yet
a
teasing challenge
to transform
this meticulous
masquerade
into
a purveyor
of the
nondescript
unsettling
visuals
that
retreats
in
swathes of
eccentric
excogitations
aesthete
but
with
the
deadpan
fragment
into
a cryptic
conjecture &
ubiquitous
riddle
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived