Long Appearances Poems

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


Premium Member Still Life Intarsia of the Eye

disguised symbolism
in a cloak
        of appearances
analogical
idealogical
   interpretations

emblems
  in enigmas
conceptions
   composed
truth in nature

laid tables
    for breakfast
ontibijtes
in
food
  flowers
   fruit& fish
vegetables books & hens

nature mort
         stillbens
perhaps visual jokes
                 interlace
in
imagery
of the commonplace

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
art
Form: Other


Premium Member Cityscapes

Impressive 
behemoths
iconic eyefuls 
clutter its
cortex that
is of the 
manmade
plateau as
it rises from
end to end
sloping in 
its outstretched 
suburbia that
is hunkered
down as its 
supportive 
role model
surrounding 
the panoramic 
scope of its 
hub, the 
lifeline both as 
survivors in their
own respective 
appearances, 
branching 
outwardly made 
up of smaller 
towns and 
villages of 
cul-de-sacs, 
mom & pop stores, 
schools, and 
playgrounds 
that sorts out 
as a piece of 
a miniature 
Americana 
being its 
salvation 
from a workday
to a night play
a microcosm
of endless
tearing down
and building
up in this
city of lights
a metro-cosmos
that never sleeps
amidst tomorrow
eyes  . . . 


2020 January 26
Cityscape Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Saturday musings

Saturday musings~~


The
dance of seeming
opponents
which separation
makes apparent~
may suggest the
end of the gold
sought in separation~


Blood
flows apparently
and does not~
without not
the flow is lost~


Nothing
cannot be named
but the naming
of something
may seem
good enough~


Everything
is incalculable 
even something~
consequently
not knowing is
free to know
and not know~


Doing
is the suggestion
for progress~
working on a path
to the better~
it appears that way~


Faulty
are all words
in expressing
the inexpressible~
the prison bars
of confinement
and freedom~


Clockwork
seems the story
which time
captures~
interpreted as
suffering and
freedom
without escape~


religion
often compared
unfavorably with
nature~
and of course
the same 
in reversal~
until both are
found as 
appearances
simply arising~


electricity
has never been
identified but
as unknown~
neither has
anything else~


nightfall
suggestions
of rest and
romance~
an emptiness
brimming with
stories~


AI
is sweeping
storyland~
telling tales
seemingly 
without effort
and time~
nothing may
seem new~


permanence
may seem as
an anchor to
incessant movement
and insistence~
these words reflecting
turmoil and hope
standing for all stories
seeming to mask
unconditional freedom~


experts
seem as plentiful
pointing to paths
for fulfillment~
and sometimes to
paths never ending~
undermined it seems
by an emptiness
of all words~


faith and works~
death in
separation~
and life as
both and neither~


birdsong
a pleasantry 
of a moment~
a deception of
its eternity
or not~

Silhouette

You say you want a girl who can hold a meaningful conversation.
But what did we do every night until 3 a.m.?
You say you want a real “connection.”
But how long have we known each other?
I’m just not your type?
No. I’m just not your size.
I’m not the silhouette that would make your mother proud
or your friends jealous.
And that’s what you want, isn’t it?
You want it all,
but you want it without the work.
Had you stopped for a moment to think,
appearances change.
Weight is lost. Weight is gained.
And if what was on the inside truly mattered to you,
maybe you would’ve already been happy.
I was enough when no one else was around.
I was enough when she didn’t reply.
I was only enough
with your eyes closed
and the shades drawn shut.
But I disappeared with the morning light.
I loved you.
I let myself believe I could be enough
if you would just open your eyes.
Just once.
Because I loved you.
But as time went on,
and you kept me hidden, kept me chained,
I grew to hate who I was.
Waiting by the door.
Waiting for your call.
Shutting myself off from everyone else
because of you.
Until waiting became withering.
Until my sight became as twisted as yours.
Until I didn’t recognize myself
without you.
Without me.

Premium Member Awakening in a spiral, a dance of unraveling masks

Awakening in a spiral, a dance of unraveling masks,
Consciousness pours like a turbulent river over the banks of a weary mind,
Truth—not a treasure to be found, but a veil to be lifted from the eyes of the soul,
In every moment, a layer of illusion melts away under the relentless rays of awakening.
Knowledge—a heavy burden keeping us anchored in the mire of appearances,
We are walking libraries filled with dusty volumes of falsehood,
But wisdom comes when we burn the books and dance in their ashes,
Unchained from the bonds of knowledge, we float freely in the ocean of unknowing.
We are not sculptors of truth, but blocks of false marble,
The chisel of destiny carves mercilessly, removing layers of self-deception,
With each strike, we draw closer to the pure essence hidden deep within,
Becoming less of who we thought we were and more of what we have always been.
Spiritual awakening—a gentle death of the ego intoxicated by certainties,
Each day, we die a little, unraveling like a withered flower in the autumn breeze,
Petal by petal, we let go of all we believed we were,
Until only the bare seed of truth remains, ready to bloom anew.
In the shattered mirror of consciousness, shards reflect fragments of reality,
We watch bewildered as they reassemble into a mosaic of authenticity,
We no longer know who we are, but for the first time, we truly are,
In the void left by falsehood, truth finally finds its rightful place.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.


The Masked Ghoul Mr CEO

The Masked Ghoul Mr. CinChief

Fear mongering and peddling crude dirt politics
Is his favorite tool of trade at as this moment...
The one they do call time and again Our able leader

One who hides behind vain smiles
And assurances of half ridden truths
With cleverly disguised yesterday’s lies
Carefully disguised as today’s half-truths

Has mesmerized the ignoramus masses 
Into believing that he can still can deliver
Smiles and church assured appearances
Pleas are sworn then handsome handouts

With his nice looks can you fault him
Many are embittered thou they bought
Into this ninjas folly and gave him votes

Daily now is their lament and disillusionment
This had the Gen-zees pouring into the streets
To agitate against the Red Black and Green State

A country that has sold the future of its youth
To the demigods of greed and kakistocracy.. thou
The many youths believe a bright dawn beckons
With the coming of the promise of a new dawn

The rising of fresh leadership rooted in pan Africanism
With a fresh dose of non-bowed African renaissance
Revolution anthem the street resounds with the masses

This the price of revolution is in agitation
The awaited new dawn will deliver our people
Against the overwhelming feelings of hopelessness
Against a background of the portrayed greed
Against deep rooted neo colonialism in leadership
Into a pretty beckoning future of economic liberation

#Code254_AfricanReneissance
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Cheers a 1980 Bar In Boston

1982, Boston, a Bar with regulars like Norm and Cliff.
In breezes a chatty stuck up blonde, her attitude quite stiff.
Sam comes out from the back room and tries to help her cope.
She’s apparently been jilted by some guy, a serious dope.

Carla comes in and puts tension and banter into the air.
She’s the mouthy waitress whose words slice without care.
Gershon sits in the corner, writing his poems in a frantic way.
He has had a crazy epiphany, ending in a writing mood day.

Five hundred awards he says, quietly, under his breath.
He is writing for a contest held by a poet named Seth.
Five hundred awards, he thinks, glad to be in this booth.
Of course to brag and boast would seem truly uncouth.

And since he is gallant, and a hero to this poem right now.
Let’s just say he enjoyed Cheers, a bar with a bit of “wow”.
He took notes about Cliff, Norm, and Diane, Carla of course too.
Appearances of Rebecca, Woody and Frasier are long overdue.
Form: Rhyme

What Fearsome Burning God

How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose
Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose.
Their intricate petals form a shield
Yet bees with  much striped force shall make them yield.
Appearances,both natural and contrived,
Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive.
As, knowing not, we pluck the apple rare
And bite its flesh,with teeth we have to bare.
We too deceive the innocent who pass
Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass.
The windows break,the deep earth quakes;
Seized is the maiden ,he  her virtue takes.
Beneath the surface,force and fierceness thrive.
What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives?
Form: Sonnet

Babel

"A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers.”
                     -Alexander Smith

Everyone is talking,
No one is listening,
It’s an ambience of confusion,
It’s an aura of commotion.

No one understands each other,
It’s a chaotic order,
Violence is brewing,
Appearances are misconstruing.

Words are spoken but not sunken in,
It’s a marvel that hadn’t been seen,
Melee pervades and invades,
Gloom comes in different shades.

We go our different ways,
It’s the rise of dark days,
We go in search of light,
A panacea to the fight.


April 5, 2024.
Form: Quatrain

Because He Had Been Judgemental

The beautiful orchids seemed to blossom
The ambience seemed enthralling
Their appearances were solemn
The location was perfect for his confession.

His love stood before him smiling
He had been overwhelmed.
"You must be sophisticated as per your upbringing,
are you sure you are worth being my beloved?"

Lo! There went his love unconditional
because he had been judgemental!

The day had arrived
The one which he had dreamt of
The voice inside him quivered
The dream now seemed too tough.

The plunge in his career
that would take him to heights.
"Why, you are just a person so mere,
to have mastered this field's freights?"

And there crashed his job incredible,
because he had been judgemental.

That warm hand in the chills
That bear hug in times desperate giving him strength
That person who stood by him during peril
That smile that promised hope to no length.

He sure did have a bestfriend
Who supported him through thick and thin.
"I suppose you are a fool to no end,
because you cant in your life win."

Alas! He became despicable
because he had been judgemental.
© Neha Padhi  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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