Long Artistry Poems
Long Artistry Poems. Below are the most popular long Artistry by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Artistry poems by poem length and keyword.
I went to a catholic school,
was made to heed, conform and obey;
oh, those nuns could be so nasty and cruel.
they even forced us to make up sins and pray.
I was trapped in a dark place,
a place where being CReAtiVe was a disgrace;
so I wore a mask of- I am happy on my face,
but, inside I was a butterfly just dying.
Though, in time I broke free and was flying,
letting my artistry soar- sighing;
writing poetry, yet still conforming to a rule,
but when inspiration hits me I admit- I stray.
Imagination and inspiration I embrace,
my past CoNForMiTy- I am not denying;
so, why am I crying, crying, crying . . .
______________________________
November 4, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/A Trapped Butterfly
Copyright Protected, ID 11-1082-696-04
All Rights Reserved, 2018, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, CReAtiVe CoNForMiTy
sponsor, John Lawless, Judged 11/2018
Fifth Place
you are. too many different pieces. too many different puzzles. i lay perpendicular. I feel the green grass. i am. silenced. in this silence. pretty purple pieces of peace. you are. the missing piece. but the link to how i feel about blue skies. I feel such a way. Yet never moved away. move me. you are. skies that are blue. and you are grasses that are green. you are. move me. anchored. frightened. some blues. some greens. demented artists. some purples. tainted artistry. the world will know. I am by myself. anchored. move me. you are. the world will know. green grass. you are. blue skies. myself. my self. selfish. devoted. yet hopeless. anchored. too many different pieces. and different opinions. move me. and too many different peaces. lost people. memorable places. just all too different. too distance. too diminished. but here we are. coloring. purples, blues, and greens. silence. and scenery. you are. the difference. move me. move me.
Optimizing my essence-verity
being a contributor to ecology’s beauty
since for such I was created* by the Almighty…
allow me now to advertise my blessed bounty
as the lone surviving specie’s variety!
Have you tasted me with my offered "palatability?"
I was once a staple food in yesterday’s society
packed With antioxidant-capacity
along ready availability, and not found guilty of toxicity…
savour now my nutritive values of beneficial generosity!
You can’t belittle my ornamental products’ magnificent quality
revealing artistry marked by partnership-flexibility
of nature’s simplicity engaged with human’s dexterity
for handcrafted gifts and tokens of precious sentimentality…
check now my financial participation to workmanship’s intensity!
Bidding adieu calls for prudent sobriety
and I indeed believe that I have successors with integrity
to sow seeds of grace, kindness, and love’s purity
against extinction, greed and survival-of-the-fittest tenacity…
thus; now, I still see my family thriving with fruitful “acornic” stability!
*Genesis 1:1 In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
April 29, 2020
Personification in Monorhyme
Honorable Mention, "BRIAN'S CHOICE A,any form,any theme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/13/2020.
Lovely, how lovely you do look, so unique
So proud, so shiny, so majestic
Wow, dear Unicorn, if I could choose to have a pet
I would choose you, on that you can bet
A Unicorn, on whom I would ride
All over this world
All over the universe
Visiting places the human kind has never heard
A Unicorn, to whom I would run
After spending a bad day at work
Or when I would want to go through the stars, for a walk
Or even through dangerous cities, for easily, from bandits we would escape
A Unicorn, made of mystery
Made by the God of artistry
A Unicorn, made for my sole pleasure
Yes, dear Unicorn, with you around, life does be a worthwhile adventure
A Unicorn, a being made of unparalleled beauty
Indeed, a creature of fantasy
Surely, you are a favorite of all the celestial Queens
Pray, you do have the power to travel among the different realms
So far, I've only heard about you
So far, I've only read about you
I've watched cartoons in which you featured
And your gracious self, the child in me has always admired
Why, to a unicorn these words I shall say
A mythical creature, being always ready to play
A mythical creature, who shall be the one to save me
By taking me on a ride high up the clouds, the day this world shall burn!
They asked the old poet why he loved to rhyme, the old artist why painting she chose…
They asked the old dancer why he loved to dance, the old musician why she loved to compose.
They were surprised after asking the question how all their answers were the same.
They didn’t create for fame or fortune…the didn’t do it for acclaim.
In each artist’s mind, once asked, they felt without a doubt…
the words, the music, the dance, the paintings were already inside them
waiting to get out.
Once the poet opens her mind, her heart and her soul she loses track of time
and as she begins to write…her words begin to rhyme.
Once the painter opens his mind, his heart and his soul he can feel his creativity grow
and as he begins to paint…the colors know where they should go.
Once the dancer opens her mind, her heart and her soul she seems to have a flair
and though her mind begins the dance…her body takes over from there
Once the musician opens his mind, his heart and his soul which, by now you may have gathered is the key
as he begins to write his notes…they find their own harmony.
Could these artists be correct…for they all seem to agree
their art dwells inside of them…waiting to be set free.
And if art inside each of each and every artists dwells
Is if possible that art lives in us as well?
Perhaps inside all of us is inspiration, imagination, and a creativity
waiting to be let out…waiting to be set free.
And if we open up our heart, open up our soul, and open up our mind
I wonder, inside each of us…what kind of artistry we’ll find.
O glorious Autumn of melancholic
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly serene.
Bursting into the swelling copses
And invading between the
Dwindling fields:
Auburn, primrose and lilac views -
Abundant with seasons
Celebrations
That so magnificently infuse!
Glowering in simmering sunset,
And spluttering in misty dawn:
Afire with all the orbs oozing
Revelry,
That upon barkened furniture,
To thus gild - and resplendently
Adorn!
Now is the time
That dry tinkling leaves
Give musical resonance
To a breath exhaled from
A breeze...
Fanning the boughs roaring flames
That each out-stretched branch
does eagerly seize,
Fired from the eternal torch
That immortal Ceridwen tirelessly
Sought;
Whilst I hang upon evocative
Memories
That this arresting moment briefly
Caught.
Blazing with a consummate passion
Ignited from a poets grappling
Thoughts:
The Muses to this joyous splendour
Were summarily summoned
And brought;
But as elusive as the enchanting
Notes
From the intoxicating pipes of
Evasive Pan...
So as elusive the words of the
Unwritten verse
That so evade this singular man.
So burn! You gaily painted colours,
Within abandoned restrain,
Your dizzying carousel
A whirling kaleidoscope
Upon an artists ever changing frame.
Soft ochres and dappled browns
Mixed with vivid orange and crimson
Red...
Applied lavishly from the palette
Of Artemis
Over which the vibrant pastes
Are thinly spread.
A riot of pastel shades
All exploding forth -
With the raging power of a
Supernova
Of an immense, dazzling force!
All hail to the almighty:
From the devout to the Divine...
And all hail to the Grandeur
And Majesty -
Of his awe-inspiring design!
Words On The Go - playfully plying wordplay
A Reverse Rant, not averse to a terse verse
sublime rhymes of the times, no Writer's Block to unlock
a poem off the shelf To My Teenage Self
Who Would I Bring Back? We the People, our Secret Selves
The Transcendent Ms Vincent beckons Morris the Thesaurus Tortoise
to leave his shell and ride Arabians to Zebras
and write Cities of Sonnets, Graduations, Fascinations, alliterations
and Heartache's Milkshakes that take the cake
it's the Little Things that give her wings
as dulcet words awake and sing
we open our peepers For The Silence Keepers
Dressing Up Silly Words to spring forth, sing forth, bring forth
her streams of Dreams and April themes
of Pondering Poetry or Roses Of Agony
A Kindness where once was Emptiness:
Two Roses, a September Serenade of Green Anniversaries
made a parade for the maid in the waylaid shade
uncommon comments - the recipe is reciprocity
Her Legacy, Her Epitaph: a tear, a smile, a laugh
you write of The Stars -
of this mystical, magical, mythical, metaphysical
wonderful world of whirled words
If Only You Knew you help us to see
what Poems Can Be
// In tribute to the inimitable style of our wonderful poetess and Solitary Scribbler, Michelle Faulkner, in honor of Your Birthday on the 8th day of this Brief November: thank you, my artistry sibling, for your "rage of kindness, blinding your grieving ghosts". Keep writing and inspiring ~ John]
[Capitalized words are titles of poems by Michelle]
Your voice
fills my cavity
with the fullness
that streams
from vast desert skies
where raindrops fall
like tumbling notes
pelting my heart
with pitter-patter rhythms
of a grand Aria arising
from tremulous rainstorms
that quench
my irresistible thirst
for your enchantment
I drink soaking wet
from the artistry
of resonate nightingales
breached on the precipice
of wonderment of us
Your touch
carries me
across
thresholds
of heaven
earth
universe
for the hearts capacity
to hold a singular place
or direction
for the home of
the infinite being
of us
Your kiss
journeys
to the farthest
part of me
the innermost
mind of me
the library
of novels from
a million stories
with words
boundless and eternal
about us
Rewritten February 22,2022
Winter Love Poetry Contest
Sponsored by JCB Brul
In the quiet of a summer night,
Hope rises like the stardust sprinkles
Coloring the sky with music,
Spoken aloud like a poem who stirs
The winds, the rain, the storm
Beneath the shadows of heaven’s grace
Whispering life to the eternal flame,
Alive like the stars, glistening through
The past, the present – tomorrow
Forever….
With baby steps, the light shines
Luna swooning, hesitating past the gentling,
Kind dreams abiding in the miracles,
Wonders in passionate joy,
Kindling the burning, the music
Intimate and alive like the historical
Tears, the rhythm – the rhyme
Arising from the teardrop hopes
The pieces of laughter inspiring the
Wishes ….
In purity, where sacred
Shares its never ending grace,
The prayers, the praise – the artistry
Of faith – blessed, blessing
Erasing the past, forgiving the sin
Who darkens, doubts – in dread,
Fearing the ending and even the beginning
Where the pain starts to silence
Even the good things, the wonderful
In the life who knows the dance
Is like a paradise rising, intimacy
Flooding…
Inspiration in the loving
Tendencies briefly intimate,
Sunset promises, secrets
Aware of all the twinkling
Encouragement of a hope, a supplication
For the wonders, the joys
Brilliant in the colors, hues of
Imagination, braving the storms
So laughter assaults the quiet
With satisfaction, rare beauty
Flowing…
In the spirit – there is a serenity
Soft – quiet peace, bursting
With tranquility, arising in the life
Beyond the stardust praises –
Beneath the risk of awakening
The One who created this way for us,
This lasting grace in us… silence
Fading through dreams –
Quiet…
Just breathe… quiet
Writing Challenge - 'Q' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Word 1. quiet
April 1, 2023
Thanks I would say for the chance to create,
Dreams to elate, and fantasies to stargaze;
Recalling fondly the fun themes of contests
Which frequently I set free on butterfly wings
In gardens of spring on scented ruby winds
Endearing sunrise in dawn’s golden appeal
Having kissed doting night’s blushed reveries.
To verses of ballad I would offer my thanks
For blossoming words in passions of romance
Choreographing dance of nocturnal moths
As love floated freely amid millions of stars
Warbling in rhythms of nightingale’s songs
Cuddling “sensuality” through “poetry and me”
Humming to the tune of “I dreamed a dream”
Saying sincerely: grateful for the memories.
Shedding “one last tear” for “one that got away”
“Poems that paint a picture” I would elevate
Refusing to entertain, “if there was no poetry”;
Contest or not, I must continue my odyssey,
So much yet to see, so much yet to gleam--
Traversing life’s glee, sailing deep blue seas
Climbing high mountains, exploring green valleys
Seeking words that cogitate depth of artistry.
Nostalgic for poetry, life would miss a beat
Echoing a violin strumming dissonance of lyrics--
A disharmonious chorus longing for harmony;
So, neither a new frontier, nor “the last goodbye”
My humble aspirations shall continue to vie
For one more verse of joy, one timeless lullaby.
July 19, 2020
Placed 1st: If this was my last poetry contest poem
Sponsor: Silent One
Prior contest names are in quotation marks