Long Alabaster Poems
Long Alabaster Poems. Below are the most popular long Alabaster by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Alabaster poems by poem length and keyword.
NA poetry contest
Sponsor: Ink Empress
3rd Place.
The beauty you see in me is a reflection of you ~ Rumi
To me, you were
my youth.
The remainder of my childhood dreams,
the obscure smiles of benign warmth
the gentle whispers to a tear so meek
the flower bed veiling a breathing corpse.
And I had seen cruel strife
Trees of shade being cut off
Sipping the blues drained of life,
I bore the scars of alabaster loss.
And I was told miracles exist
but people who get them don’t prevail
you lifted me so, I insist
painted my days, thawed my scalding maze
Stringent change left my cries muffled
I was just running, regretting the passing days
But you changed how I saw the world
let me pause, if not stop my ways
You made the skies live
you gave rain meaning.
You made winds breathe
you gave me meaning.
And I-
Loved.
"Lovers Not"
Lovers Not
Games we play
hard edged
tongues
where no word’s safe
ecstasy to abstain
blindfolded
to begin again
saltwater stings
where you lay
bound to another
never-slept soul
worshipping her
alabaster shrine
your dream
prolonged
spent legs of this journey
spread on your Dante cross
submerged
you willingly
drown close
washed clean
by her rolling ocean
sans perfume
to taste the essence of skin
in shattered shards
of moonbeam
reckless in your
loose agency
a small price to pay
where the heat
from her words
blow your
pages
wet and hot
black feather quills
well oiled and cut
blood written
no escape plot
Purgatorio and Paradiso
Beatrice led
you don’t beg
to stop
tied up tightly
wanting to remain
mind-stripped
no slow soft rope
Games we play
Lovers Knot
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-TCCmg6ZGM
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Divine_Comedy
Dayspring Moon
Mischievous moon sneaks into dawning’s sight
Coquettish smile winks at dawn in delight
Playful like a child who fights sleep at night
Morning games, hide and seek...dayspring flush, rising pique -
Daylight with argent streaks...light in soft moon mystique -
Elfish clown blows a kiss as day begins
Impish moon flirts at dawn with saucy grins
Moonstruck sunrise, before the sun cuts in,
Tow-head minx riding high...morningtide's azure sighs -
Full moon in the day sky...gibbous dance gone awry -
Pearly pixie wears a smile, laughing light,
A sly smirk on her alabaster cheeks,
Yawns then slinks away as the deep blue spins,
Lunar prank reflects her spry sun ally.
Fountainhead
by Michael R. Burch
I did not delight in love so much
as in a kiss like linnets' wings,
the flutterings of a pulse so soft
the heart remembers, as it sings:
to bathe there was its transport, brushed
by marble lips, or porcelain,—
one liquid kiss, one cool outburst
from pale rosettes. What did it mean ...
to float awhirl on minute tides
within the compass of your eyes,
to feel your alabaster bust
grow cold within? Ecstatic sighs
seem hisses now; your eyes, serene,
reflect the sun's pale tourmaline.
Published by Romantics Quarterly, Poetica Victorian, PW Review, Nutty Stories (South Africa), Inspirational Stories, Poetry Life & Times
Written: May 25, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Silent One
2nd place contest winner
*************************
Quote: "Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.” — By Rumi ( With my honest wishes of a long and healthy life— Very Happy Birthday.
The moon still glows—an alabaster flame,
memory’s mirror, never the same.
Spume drifts, shimmering and bright,
not shadowy, but limpid light.
You watch sunsets and softly muse—
Do you fade, or do you fuse?
Their shades shroud loss and gain,
a peculiar parity of pleasure and pain.
Lessons grasped don’t be acrimonious,
regrets mollified primarily harmonious.
Time’s conundrum teaches clear—
Delicate days are a deep fear.
To your tender time, you’d tell and attire,
Beware quixotry, yet seize the desire.
Do not anathemize your fall—
Failure’s anodyne heals all.
Though tristful shadows at times prowl,
still you liaise with joy, still you howl.
Twilight or dawn, the soul’s refrain—
amaranthine light will remain.
What is poetry?
Is it the starry dawn?
Is it the contemplative aura?
Is it the sweet song of the brook?
Is it the music of unspoken words?
Is it the moon reflected on the
windy hill?
Is it the golden breath of alabaster
Source?
Is it the eternal breath of the rose?
Is it the sweet and sour life?
Is it the joyful chirp of a
sparrow?
Is it the insatiable thirsty of our soul?
Is it the sky that wipes away its humble tears?
Is it the meek lily that
stands humbly?
Is it the rainbow that embraces our
mourning soul?
Is it the stormy sea that roars
our irrevocable fate?
Is it the winged wind that escapes
from the peaceful sphere?
Is it the decorated boat waiting for its
turn?
Really, really, I don't know, I don't know.
one thing is clear, one thing is clear; that
I am an infant who has been nurtured by His spirit...
The Promise
A promise wakes your mornings
Following you in whispers,
Walking in your footsteps,
Murmuring in the soft bleating
Of birthing ewes
As close to you as the breath
You take in and out
Sustaining life –
A life you yearn to extend
In a line longer
Than a string of stars
Created by your creator’s hand.
And, even in the stillness
Of newborn moonlight,
When the promise spills out of you
In ribbons of scarlet saturating the ground
With an earthy musk,
It stands before you,
Beckons you to leave your sighs
In the alabaster light –
Left as one month – one year –
Folds into the seasons
When lambing, shearing, spinning and weaving
Become as one day passing –
An unbroken thread
Defined by the promise
Until, one day, touched by the divine whimsy
The absurd begins to grow
Deep within that place in you
That stopped believing
Until you too must look past
The cycle of the moon with joy and expectation
Dancing together in every heartbeat
And every new breath –
The promise smiles, then laughs,
As waters burst to bless the barren
Flowing on the arid ground
Where scarlet ribbons once turned the earth
Bright crimson;
Your barren arms, now filled with blessings,
Reach out to cradle
The promise thriving with an invitation
To look beyond this family
Into the days and hours approaching –
An unbroken heartbeat –
A whirlwind rising
Pulling up your new, now ancient family tribe,
To mirror in their eyes
Your covenant
Yearning to become one heartbeat
Pulsing throughout days, weeks and decades
Called back into the fertile birthing place
Where the One, the Word, resides forever.
Moaning Mona
Oh! Oh!
Oh no,
moaning &
complaining;
her draping
archaic.
Drop a little off
the shoulder,
Mona, baby.
Show a bit
of cleavage.
Best to smile
and wink,
to stay abreast
with modern society.
Mona, don’t
grow cold.
Keep your clothes on.
Save the nudes
for someone else.
You’re only good
when you follow us-
your dark eyes
kept safe behind glass.
Don’t be mad, Mona,
your just a common figure
in history,
a class act,
not suited
to get between satin sheets.
Your mud-pool irises
and hair match-
same dye
for both, Mona dear?
Your alabaster skin
pale as moonlight.
Your handsome hands-
Leonardo found them
enticing. So do we
as we admire
your sleeves. Stay
grounded, Mona…
Complaining
and moaning-
oh no! Here we go again!
Oh…oh…
Moaning Mona.
4/13/2023
She saw through tear filled eyes
The kindness in his own
She heard the witness of
The miracles he'd shown
But her past was full of sin
Of brokenness and shame
That made her so afraid
To call out Jesus name
So instead, to show her love
She knew she'd have to start
By letting go of sin and self
By giving him her heart.
What is in your alabaster box?
What came to you at such a great cost?
You've held onto it so long
And coveted the pain
But Jesus wants to free you
From fear from guilt from shame
Pour it all out now
At his beautiful feet,now bare
Wash them with your tears
And dry them with your hair.
Maybe it's not past sins
you've shut away and bare
maybe it's some hurt
that you've refused to share
now is the right time
while Jesus is so near
to finally let it go
to finally shed your tears
and if you continue to
hold on so tight to your pain
you'll never know the freedom
of how your heart will change
What is in your alabaster box?
What came to you at such a great cost?
You've held onto it so long
And coveted the pain
But Jesus wants to free you
From fear from guilt from shame
Pour it all out now
At his beautiful feet,now bare
Wash them with your tears
And dry them with your hair.
You will always stumble
When you bare a heavy load
All by yourself, all alone
We can depend
on His strength and might
For He said," my yoke is easy
And my burden light"
What is in your alabaster box?
What came to you at such a great cost?
You've held onto it so long
And coveted the pain
But Jesus wants to free you
From fear from guilt from shame
Pour it all out now
At his beautiful feet,now bare
Wash them with your tears
And dry them with your hair.
early 50's
don't mean maybe
here i come
slap the baby
hear me screaming
now i'm breathing
the proud parents
really beaming
mid december
it is chilly
named me mike
instead of billy
adolescence
before you know it
kind of shy
don't you blow it
moved away
because of dad
left behind
friends i had
teenage years
finally settled
florida
from seattle
culture shock
plus the weather
all i had
sonic sweaters
took no time
skin to leather
from the color
alabaster
here's the years
i discovered
full time friends
part time lovers
a few times
things got drastic
drank to much
acted spastic
laid around
worked on fattening
mom and dad
were not laughing
as they begged
on their knees
find a job
so you can leave
i joined in
the military
with no war
not too scary
found a girl
we got married
had some kids
now it's scary
lost my job
lost my dime
standing in
unemployment lines
found a job
things are fine
moving to
the prime of life
with the kids
still at home
things are moving
right along
from the left
to the right
that's the story
of my life