Long Amorphous Poems
Long Amorphous Poems. Below are the most popular long Amorphous by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Amorphous poems by poem length and keyword.
Booty beats from tomb slapping funkier bass,
rhythms to a spherical time in chic confess.
Slick elegance rhymes to fast timing,
wua wua references clear defining.
Dialog in electronic sound design,
funk happens for all of us therein.
Parliament funkadelic renegade,
riding in that old funky rolls to separate.
Committing funky crime against the state of soul,
mix the funk into the rhythm and it will not fade.
High on funk from the bottom and splendor of thing,
funky release of natural essence within.
Amorphous effusive impulse component,
and sweet sweaty antidepressant.
Ramification in that state of mind to funk,
blues road and gospel bell out of sorrow strung.
The humidity is a sodden blanket
over our heaving bodies.
We are climbing through the jungle
to view a temple on top of a mountain.
The exertion is draining us,
I have to nail words together
to form constructed sentences.
Amorphous clouds of vagaries
form miasma's in my head.
I don't even care about the temple
despite my Buddhist leanings
but these evangelical missionaries
are as keen as mustard - go figure.
I thirst for a cold beer, a cold anything.
We are sweating through our clothes
choking in the heat-haze,
but the keen young nurses and doctors
are all for struggling on.
I'm just a follower; a lone Brit
in a happy mob of Americans
thank God they don't all burst into hymnal songs
or call for an ad hoc prayer or two.
At the top
I am wheezing, sweat blinding my eyes
i'm hating these good folks
with a satanic fervor,
though too weak now to curse.
The temple is very old
and it's okay in an ancient way.
I want to sit here and meditate a while
but this forking girl and boy scout tribe I am with
want to explore.
In my mind
I see a laughing Buddha
a Pu Tai figure
rocking back and forth on his fat ass.
Eagerly joining the nation's martial order,
Becoming Uncle Sam's itinerant boarder,
Pledging to defend my country's border,
Against foreign malice and internal disorder.
Callously disregarding my own personal ambition,
Carelessly abandoning familial bonds and social position,
Caustically enlisting in the my country's latest inquisition,
Cheerfully pledging to defend abstract values without condition.
Forthrightly conditioned to to obey without recourse,
Instantly melded into mindless, fraternal force,
A provisioned robot, a designated national resource,
Vetted to die for patriotic cause without slightest remorse.
Subjugated to the imperial dictums of state,
Compensated a minimal wage for perilous fate,
Commissioned to fight amorphous foes without face,
Trained to annihilate belligerents without trace.
Written: October 09, 2023
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There are no blooms to snuggle in the twilight
No promise that it will ever reach the zenith.
Either the sky is clear or a cyclone is brewing
Unpredictable, akin to the whims of fate.
Life sheds its brimful aura and amorphous shells
No longer a folk-waltzing performance,
But an aphonic and agrestal appendices
Shifts sustain, the skin splits and slides,
Revealing the vulnerability beneath,
A skin split that resonates in the heart
Where forlornness resides, tearing at the seams
In this ever-changing world, seasons shift.
Some souls only shine once a year.
Or twice, if they're lucky, reaching even higher.
When you least expect it, or in the spring,
They decry what bestows them delight,
Appreciating the winding road of life,
Finding beauty in the midst of anguish
There are no blooms to snuggle in the twilight.
silently staring
at the beauty
there are many words
inside the heart treasure
hush! before the gun I’m
coward the love
no utterance
but the eyes, in silence step up
for the love
there the language of love
live in taciturn agreement
in the fearful meeting gang!
silence there is
many words live inside
but for the silent observer one!
plain amorous duck
enjoy the conjugal life
with the lucky staff!
love is from the amorphous feelings
it's a sacred being
love is eternal
but life is mortal
love is heavier than the life!
by the light of love
I'm here right
cause you are only guide
give me bad name
but love is love
It does not wanna measure the person
who is good or who is bad
silence in me and in you
love teaches the learned
everything newly
-December 11, 2019 Chattogram
mystique mist
of opaque veil
designs in desolation
amorphous ambiguity
swathes with singularity
penultimate pathway
obscure
at terminal time-post
of future crypt
a m b I g u o u s
sunset swansong
in transient twilight
resonates
in void valley
of abandoned present
silhouetted still
on somber skyline
of indigo filigree
morphing into
melancholic epithet
e n g r a v e d
turmoil threads
embroider morbid motif
at pallid tassel
of obsessed clouds
latticed by passion clumps
with fervor fringe
f r a y e d
sensuous storm
from onyx horizon
ornate once
with halcyon hues
constructs chameleon chimera
of configured illusion
on yearning canvas
ablaze in cold flame
of dormant desire
f r o z e n
memory menagerie
from burnt relic
flies away
in wasteland whirlwind
u n b o u n d
hope shards adrift
in poignant current
of fluid psyche
ductile
flow flustered
in sullen stream
of billion teardrops
in twilight terrain
reminiscent
of remnant rays
of sublime sunset
shape shifting
to intuition violin
r e s o n a n t
symphony echoes
the last vibrato
behind fallen curtain
for the lone audience
latent concerto
suffuses listless life
with tuneful resonance
of sonorous sanguinity
e t e r n a l
Oh! the blaze of light and color
playing power of vibrant luster.
with a rainbow hidden in its soul
she's a princess, a spectral cluster.
Rain seeping voids of crevasses
cracks of porous silica rocks,
amorphous tiny spheroid balls
an effulgence perfect Goldilocks
A gem that forms in million years,
sensuous palette of random pattern
like a Christmas tree she glistens,
a chrysanthemum flamed lantern.
The Opal stone, oh !.. too sensuous
a salsa dance of sequins and beads.
purple in passion and golden in love
she brings the peace, the world needs.
Dated 15th May 2019
Sponsor -Line Gauthier
Contest Name:
TRIBUTE TO A PRECIOUS OR SEMI-PRECIOUS GEM
Placed 3rd in the contest list
Also featured 3rd in best new poem list.
The tinsel moon you gleamed in cradle of argentine night
On wings of ornate cloud I tried to embrace you
But you ambled through the silky sky I called mine
A turquoise trail you carved in my heart you knew
I could discern my love glow with touch of moondust
At the edge of the departing night thunder clouds surged.
The pale moon you faded in the abyss of dark night
With the flanges of amorphous cloud I distanced you
But you welded with the jagged sky you called yours
You didn’t realize no crystal path you paved to my heart
My insipid love lost unperceived the touch of moondust
As the core of the arriving night thunder clouds wrapped.
(Perhaps the desire to find Nirvana has become tainted? A worm of a man has done this to me; has burrowed into the fruit of my dreams.)
We who wield the mighty sword
leaded and sharpened neat and straight
search vainly for hearty tales
where Eros or God has placed a hand
and turned the wilderness we have made
back into the garden with apple trees
and juicy synonym pairs and plums.
We yearn to taste the flesh sublime
to feel its secretions dripping
and with them ourselves slipping
into a whirlpool of sheer delight
from which we never rediscover
loneliness, despair, and pain.
Oh to be in that blissful state again
this side of the great divide!
So I put my pen and sword aside,
straighten my back and feign content
when in truth the World's goodness
is so well and truly spent
that it has bled me completely dry.
For every orphaned child I wish to cry,
or for widowed mother lowly bent
her home a shattered withered wreck,
I stay safely at home cocooned
my tears long since completely dried
desensitised by gory media information -
I count them one by one instead
as passing dark amorphous sheep
whose task is solely to prevent my sleep.
© griffonner 2022
The moonlight seeps through the drapes
As the first rain of monsoon pours,
The sweet scent of the ground
Leaves a bold memory in my brain and heart.
Mesmerized by the perfect composition of the earth
The lush creativity and imagination of my mind which are bound
To stay within the closed doors
Of my mind, try to escape.
My 'material' body attempts to remain still
As a whirlpool of thoughts enclosed,
Forms chaos in my mind
At the dead of night while on the pillow I lay.
My brain reflects the events of the day
And they evidently occupy my mind,
As I remain restless even with my eyes closed
They venture into the brain without my heart's will.
Some unknown sadness had overshadowed me,
Since the comforting moonlight has been
Forbidden from entering my bedroom
By being enveloped in nothing,
But darkness by the evil, amorphous, rain clouds.
Although I felt fortunate enough to hear, on the corrugated roof the rain's sound.
The faint sounds of the hooting and screeching
Of the nocturnal creatures I assumed
Then I recalled that the crystal clear view in the morning would be a sight to see.
The mist has left the verdant plains
The rain must have washed away the dusted air from days before.
The virid new leaves shine brightly in the faint sunshine
As the birds twittering in my backyard wake me up from my sleep.
The old thoughts, imprisoned in my mind,will eventually slip
Out and create room for some new thoughts of mine.
The warmth of the sunlight has given me encouragement and motivation to explore
My hopes and dreams and my mind's depth and terrains.