Long Artistic Poems

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


Darien's First Piece

My little one of soothing smiles
Speechless gazes in random gestures
You're Darien, a gift as rain during drought
Love twined birthing a divine expression 

Your innocently faultless laughter is succour to my heart
You're love expressed in perfection 
I could never have dreamt or desired better 

On your first count on mortal's abode, I'm joyful that;
You're divine love made from my loins
God's careful artistic design given to me as a son. 

Words do below fairness in replicating my joy
As all I sense is an abundance of sweet feelings lacing my breathe 

I love you till the endless end of forever Jason.
Happy birthday my darling baby boy.


It Ain'T Easy Being Stupid

It Ain't Easy Being Stupid 



 The sweet reggae music 
And the oldies Goldie’s Outbids the 
Noise in the night 

Tall dark and handsome, 
I saw him standing there, 
A well shave face viper 

His artistic designs 
From ear to cheek 
Zigzags lines that 
Shape his round face 
The shine on his face clashes 
With the street light

To have such a deep admiration 
From a sex stave woman 
I was in love the six packer 
the bearded caribbean viper 

Under the street light; they he stand tall 
I sigh! and took another sip of beer 
as memory recalls I about to have an affair? 
I whisper softly " Lord “Please don't failed me now

That was the night 
When I surrender my heart, my secrets

  for moment of bliss that fulfills only 
a temporary curiosity of most women

My self-confidence forfeit 
The enemy captured my heart 

Self-confidence is to do 
What you are afraid to do. 
I have done it all 

I surrender everything to a tall six packers
 the beard  caribbean viper 

A moment of sanity 
From another human being to another 
It Ain't Easy Being Stupid
Form: Narrative

Premium Member A Sporting Poetic Message Answering the Rings

It is time for communication decisions  

To be the true diplomatic missions   

A competitive artistic way to deal with rings interlocking  

Due to egotistical intentions wanting information blocking  

As they watch the wise grandfather clocking  

Veteran memories tick and tocking  

Every four years spend two weeks  

Staging sporting exhibitions innocent like a child’s smiling cheek  

Presenting these athletic events  

Replacing anger that spurred war time resent  

Seductive entertainment good for the soul  

Reminding the world about being bold  

When dealing with those deadly and cold  

Cast warriors script them to spill sweat and tears  

Observed by an audience enthusiastic with cheers  

Applauding having no fears  

Drafted professional participants in a game in which they are paid  

No longer bothering conducting a raid  

On the college students getting the grade 

Today an invisible competitor has been lured  

It is the diabolical health care monster control wanting the floor  

Challenging everyone; Is this what you want? Are you sure?  

Addressing the issue needing a cure  

That tested our patients unprepared and uninsured  

With a nasty flu rotten like an apple’s core  

And finally, it is time to show it the door  

Sending a message  

Hoping for a confession  

By putting on a display  

Symbolically it will say  

Stand together  

Fighting this emotional weather  

Lock those rings  

Stating to the leaders, Presidents, and Kings  

“We do not want combatting killing hate  

Controlling and conquering attitude thinking this action is great  

Instead interpret information to get it straight”  

Using this thought on a hook as bait
 
Reeling in God we trust  

Into a situation where problems find themselves arrested in a bust  

Clearing the blurry lines turning them into dust  

And discovering kind humbleness is a must  

Light that cauldron with a flame  

Wishing those who have fame  

Shoulder to shoulder to others having no name  

Good luck to you all  

Answering this peaceful call
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Mail Call Now and Then

Mail Call Now and Then
David J Walker

Let me hear from you
Now and then 
Love, Mother
The same phrase 
I read at the end 
Of every letter 
While gone so long ago
Serving in uniform

It was the time before email
And iPhones
	And social media posts
When the most we could hope for
While so far away 
Was our names shouted out at
Mail call

How I looked forward
To her rhadamanthine
Cursive scripts
Perfect in sleek artistic
Lines and quips laid out 
in her own hand
And the scratched scrabble
Of discarded thought 

Let me hear from you
	Now and then

The letter in its’
Envelope cover
Placed back in the box
On a closet shelf

Waiting to be read
Sometimes again
When I may need to 
hear from her
Now and the then
Form: Rhyme

Cowes again

Phillip Island Cowes

It was not long ago,
At the end of last year,
Beginning of the summer,
I came to this area,
Indulged swimming at the sea,
Hardly enjoyed any thing else,
Except strolling on the sand,
Along the shore and enjoyed writing poem,
With someone for the first and last time.
There was much more to explore.
Now the summer was over,
The Autumn's breeze swayes in the air,
The waves lingeres on the shore,
Whether the swells are big or small 
And rough or soft waves movement.
That do not really matter at the moment.
I am back again, to enjoy the nature,
To mesmerise the good old days memories,
As time goes by every day.
Today, I travel alone with simple itinerary 
Just relaxing, enjoying peaceful sightseeing. 

It crossed my mind to go else where,
It had equal beautiful natural scenery.
However, the public transport,
Was not as adequate as before,
When I travelled to both memorable places,
On a divine summer day.
I did not realise, how lucky we were
Live in such a wonderful world,
With full of artistic nature.
© C33 B66  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member When the Channels Are Open

Distant strains of piano music
dance into my ears;
colors of vibrancy waiting
to take away my sorrows.

Somewhere black and white keys,
are laughing to the tickle
of nimble fingers;
that tickle my artistic fancies.

A canvas of Beethoven, Bach
or Mendelssohn fills my imagination
and my brush dips, ever so carefully,
into a palette full of elation.

The ecstasy of the arts,
spiritual adventures abounding.
The eyes, ears and spirit are blessed
to receive such sacred secrets.

The colors of music are black and white;
exploding into a billion etheric pigments.

Premium Member When Hobby Becomes a Creative Urge

WHEN HOBBY BECOMES A CREATIVE URGE 

I know why I’ve developed this hobby,
the passion, I’m sure, must be in my gene
for an artist I always wanted to be
like my grandfather whom I haven’t seen.

Amidst many pieces of his artwork I grew up,
but the one that fascinated me the most
was the scene of moon shining on sea in close up,
in its divine beauty even today I get lost.

I couldn’t become an accomplished artist like him,
but my artistic fervor took shape in a hobby.
In my paintings pristine nature is the prime theme,
the colored motifs show how enchanting it can be.

In the vexing life of unending cacophony
whenever my soul needs the touch of serenity
I take refuge in the hued niche I’ve created for me,
and on the flushing canvas I repose my new identity.

In those moments painting is no longer my hobby,
flowing on rainbow colors my creative urge defines me.

February 24, 2019
Contest : Hobbies
Sponsored by : Julie Leigh Rodenheaver
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member THE WORST CARTOONIST

As we’re deciding what to keep and what to let go of for our move
which will be happening soon
we ran across some old books I made…filled with with my hand-drawn cartoons…

There was a time when I was younger…
I felt by the art gods I was was kissed…
When I thought about leaving my teaching job behind
and becoming…a cartoonist.

So on our family vacations each summer…late hours I would keep…
drawing cartoons recreating our day’s activities…
after our children were fast asleep…

Our family thought those cartoons were silly, funny and unique.
We laughed a little at the humor I created…
and much more at my unusual cartooning technique..

It seems that not only was there no perspective in my drawings…
which caused us all to scoff…
but looking at all my drawings…my proportions were way off.

Heads and feet were too big…arms were too long…
and I still don’t understand…
the correct way to draw faces, shoulders, fingers, legs or hands.

The funny thing is in the 10 years I drew cartoons…
no matter what the circumstance….
because my perspective and proportions never improved…
my artistic ability never advanced.

But perusing through these old cartoons…
still caused Deborah and I to laugh and cry with ease…
for as bad as my cartoons were…they brought back a host of memories.

Memories of times long ago..when our family was together 
and all the world seemed right…
when we’d play as a family during the day
and I’d draw my cartoons at night.

These home-made albums held treasures from a fun-filled wonderful past…
and reminded us of times we spent together…that were over much too fast.

But there’s something in these old cartoons…
a feeling in these pages that still enthralls…
Which means these old cartoon books I drew back then
are moving with us
big heads, big hands…and all.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member May God - the Anaphora Style

~May God~
 (Anaphora)


 May God always care for you 
 May God keep you standing tall 
 May God whisper in your ears words of wisdom
 May God show you what you need to know
 May God always have an angel for you 
 May God send an angel by your side 
 May God be there to catch you fast every time you fall 
 May God give you someone wonderful to love
 May God teach you love untold 
 May God give you lots of love and hopes to keep you happy and warm 
 May God grant you with many gifts and long life
 May God keep his eyes always on you 
 May God guide every single step of your way
 May God keep you from each and all harm each day
 May God always send an angel beside you
 May God bless you with lots of wisdom and good health  
 May God always speak to your heart mind and soul.


 Dorian Petersen Potter
 aka ladydp2000
 copyright@2012


 January.12.2016



 ~ Author's Notes:

~The Anaphora ~


In writing or speech, the deliberate repetition of the first part of the sentence in order to achieve an artistic effect is known as Anaphora.

Anaphora, possibly the oldest literary device, has its roots in Biblical Psalms used to emphasize certain words or phrases. Gradually, Elizabethan and Romantic writers brought this device into practice. Examine the following psalm:

“O LORD, rebuke me not in thine anger, neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure.
 Have mercy upon me, O LORD; for I am weak: O LORD, heal me; for my bones are vexed.
 My soul is also sore vexed: but thou, O LORD, how long?”

The repetition of the phrase “O Lord,” attempts to create a spiritual sentiment. This is anaphora.

It is common for us to use anaphora in our everyday speech to lay emphasis on the idea we want to convey or for self affirmation.

Happy Birthday

Happy birthday to me.
I shall have a wonderful day, today and always.
It is a significant day in my life.
the Western and Lunar Calendar both coincided.
As the day I was welcome to this world.
A mile stone of my life journey.
Thank God for blessing me.
With many surprises and less materials desires.
From normal appearances with low maintenance
To possess few simple talents.
From photographic memories with numbers and days,
To play many music instruments by the ears.
From being creative to artistic.
From analyzing problem to solving it.
With abundant passion of fighting for justice.
I love my life but loathe unpleasant surprises.
Which seemed attracted to me,
One way or another, lot of times.
It was so wonderful and I was blessed to meet A,
Who spent ten incredible years unconditionally loving me.
For the first time in my life, he put the 21+ candles
On a cake for me to blow on my birthday.
Now many years later, I still vividly remember, 
How he was always there for me,
To take away some of my life's issues.
He never took advantage of me,
Despite, all of his life, days or nights,
He always loved women by his side.
Imagine this, at the age of 23,
His beautiful wife being the 13th woman in his romantic life.
He loved me with mixed feelings and unconditionally.
Whenever I hoverred my memories,
Surprisingly, there were times,
When I was completely alone in a room with a man,
Some how, none of them dared to have any inappropriate behaviours.
So, was I naive and unattractive, or being protected?
Now, counting on my blessing,
I seemed to have everything,
Except true love and romance.
Acquired, managed and disposed investment properties.
Enjoy walking, travelling, knitting, singing, and playing music,
Nothing in my life was simple and unique.
In every aspect, could one imagines,
With 6 men passed me by in my adult life,
I was proposed 5 times, engaged to one, and married another.
Gave birth to two beautiful children.
But never been kissed.
That was how romantic with my life.
Never mind. That is life and I will be fine.
© C33 B66  Create an image from this poem.

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