Long Artme Poems
Long Artme Poems. Below are the most popular long Artme by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Artme poems by poem length and keyword.
(The Angel)
Come to the edge of the planet and watch the flashing cross section of our entities
(The Witness)
It was meant to be bigger than this
Where’s the fireworks?
The billions of lights that were promised to me?
Leaving now would be rude and staying too long seems awkward
I push my hands forward through a living organism made of water
my eyes finally tell me I’m ready to see the full picture
what was revealed scared the light out of me...
(The Angel)
Lies repeat, lives deceased, loves diseased
remember the good ones
they were there when parallels had meaning
(The Witness)
You’ve changed everything
I’ve never believed in you yet here you are
a living slap to my jaw as a wake up call
I’m ready to learn...
(The Angel has the floor)
Ten billion figures walk uncertain of a direction
much is known about that
We’ve seen your words
We’ve read your cross examinations
In a world made up of twins, the faces don’t seem to match
I’ve wreathed a galaxy with stars and poured wormholes into solar systems
but I can’t for the life of me save you
It’s all forsaken
and with you under my wings
I’ll allow you to shiver and watch the eons collapse...
(The Witness)
How can any of this occur within a visual hysteria?
How can you allow these thoughts when we’ve only just begun to learn anything at all?
to bear any sort of mutual simulation
I’ve cursed a billion times and blew over statues
yet I’ve held the hand of the loved and reciprocated all that you gave me
Positively, honestly, completely
(The Angel?)
Save me for the details have blurred edges and your tongue resembles the road less taken
Save your pity for a prettier soul
I’m not who you think I am
I’ve been the one dragging you to hate
the idiotic self importance
held hands with sin and bloated ego trips
sat next to the devil while he spun his thread
I’m not who anyone thinks I am
lift your smokescreens and see my true form.
Inspired by live event
on Ramblas Boulevard, Barcelona
Barcelona… Summer raining night…
Gentle shower sprinkles down the faces.
In the whole world the only light:
It comes straight to me from Spanish Artist spaces.
He is so much tired of hard work.
He would take a nap in cozy house
And exchange soft brush to metal fork,
But he’s painting me in blue silk blouse.
He is sketching portraits day by day,
Everything he sees - it’s his addiction.
People walking, watching, by the way,
Making stories of his talent’s fiction.
Someone is just simply passing through,
Floating like a shadow by his chair.
Someone is composing a review:
Model and his work to be compared.
He is living in his special world,
There is no path to his possession.
There are no idols, money, gold,
All his movements followed by compassion.
He is calm and shy, not recognized,
Taking masks away from people faces.
All his life, the strangers realize,
Puzzled on the easel of oil laces.
People singing, swinging in the dance.
Sounds of music made by Jazz musicians.
Taro cards predict you nice romance,
All you need - just simple recognition.
You can see so much of magic blast
At this time on Ramblas Boulevard raining.
It’s your future, present, it’s your past
And it will be in your heart remaining.
You are running off the horse’s coach
And your soul comes extremely tender.
You can be so easily approached,
You don’t mind becoming a surrender.
Barcelona… Sunday raining night…
So much noise from each and every chartist.
There is no one in the evening light:
Only Me and Special Spanish Artist…
Refrain:
Barcelona, Barcelona – you are beautiful Madonna.
You are crystal constellation, you are my imagination.
You will be with me forever, I will not forget you, never.
Barcelona, Barcelona, Barcelona…
Wrote in July 2006 in Russian
Translated into English in August 2008
You never feed me.
Perhaps I'll sleep on your face.
That will show you.
You must scratch me there!
Yes, above my tail! Behold,
elevator butt.
I need a new toy.
Tail of black dog keeps good time.
Pounce! good dog! good dog!
The rule for today.
Touch my tail, I shred your hand.
New rule tomorrow.
In deep sleep hear sound
Cat vomit hairball somewhere.
Will find in morning.
Grace personified
I leap into the window
I meant to do that
Blur of motion, then-
Silence, me, a paper bag
What is so funny?
The mighty hunter
Returns with gifts of plump birds
Your foot just squashed one.
You're always typing
Well, let's see you ignore my
Sitting on your hands.
My small cardboard box
You cannot see me if I
Can just hide my head.
Terrible battle
I fought for hours. Come and see!
What's a "term paper"?
Kitty likes plastic
Confuses for litter box
Don't leave tarp around
Small brave carnivores
Kill pine cones and mosquitoes
Fear vacuum cleaner
Want to trim my claws
Don't even think about it!
My yelps will wake the dead
I want to be close
To you. Can I fit my head
inside your armpit?
Wanna go outside.
Oh, no! Help! I got outside!
Let me back inside!
Oh no! Big One
has been trapped by newspaper.
Cat to the rescue!
Humans are so strange.
Mine lies still in the bed, then screams!
My claws aren't that sharp....
Cats meow out of angst
"Thumbs! If only we had thumbs!
We could break so much"
Litter box not there
You must have moved it again
I'll crap in the sink
The Big Ones snore now
Every room is dark and cold
time for "Cup Hockey"
We're almost equals
I purr to show I love you
Want to smell my butt
Form:
GOD's SPECIAL LOVE
During mix up of this recipe
My ink freeze carrying a fragile
Destiny.
Sending songs of hanger to
My Lord,
I need to be part of this conventional
list for all His special Love,
Father Benjamin Franklin and
Pa Da Vinci,
Nelson Mandela the political
Dealer,
Leaders I search for resembles.
You know Islam sees Unity
Rusicrusian is purity
Christianity loves vigils to preach
Virginity, all of the spirit being.
Good Lord fix me among this
Victims,
Tagged into victory.
I pay every thanksgiving, am
Aware this amounts to nothing,
As an ordinary pilgrim
Immortal soul that believes in
Evenings.
Combating for wisdom with
Maximum understanding,
Discipline is the seed I lick before
Sleep,
Good Lord descend every special
Love upon my living
I will serve man to forever remember
You my Great King
Owner of every meaning.
My sick brain begins to drain
Energy enriched with pain will
Only cut my vain,
I sit and pray, painting the Mon alisa's
Frame,
To rearrange any artistic page,
Electricity isn't a mistake, as I fear
The dark,
Meaning man will permanently fail.
Freedom is wilder than age,
This a free lane created by no name.
Good Lord rise me above the hills
Make me run underneath the sea
I need the clouds to clean my feet,
Let my heavens be for real and
Sickness should be dumped in a bin.
Good Lord lead me to the class of
The Most High,
Where Angles sing in Your Frontage
I need to see your Tongue and sliver
Taste.
Good Lord I post this on Monday
Evening
By Tuesday You would receive,
Please open and read, these are not
Wishes neither are they dreams
These is me hurting to win.
HABIB AKEWUSOLA.
Blank Canvas
White and bland
Is who I am
Simple and plain
Practically clear.
You hold the paintbrush
And you hold the pallet
A pallet full of colors
Colors that will make me something I’m not
But what difference would it make when I was no one.
You paint on a smile
You paint it far and wide
I guess I’m happy…
No I am happy
But you masterpiece isn’t finished yet
Perfection is everything to you….to me.
Erase the smile
Paint on a frown
Pain the teardrops
Raining down
I guess I’m sad
I should be
I don’t know what I’m upset about
But I am sad.
No… no that’s not right
Paint on green
My favorite color
I think…I know
Raving with envy
I wish I was you
Oh how I wish to be anyone else but me
But how would I know
Who am I?
Like a chameleon
I can blend in
A backdrop to any scenery
What ever the surroundings
You’ll paint me in
What else could I be
I’m just stuck being this way
Whatever this way is.
My description varies
And personality is unknown
So go ahead and paint if for me
You know me better than I do right…
Your masterpiece is finished
Painted to perfection
I look in the mirror
And the chameleon stares back
I don’t want to be this way
I want to break out of this camouflage
I want to be my own artist
Paint what I feel
Paint who I am.
Tears stream down
Actual ones
Bringing pale colors of paint with it
Streaking your masterpiece
Creating a puddle full of colors unfamiliar to me.
I look back into the mirror
I see the messy streaked canvas
I smile
This mess makes me laugh
Its colorful
Creative
Perfectly imperfect
This streaked and unique canvas
Is me.
Whene'er I look at Thomas Cole's
"The Course of Empire" set,
I always pause and double take
A painting worth my fret.
Of course, it's not "The Savage State",
And it's not "Arcadian";
The one that scares me most of all's
Known only as "Destruction".
"Destruction" is a rightful name
For what is taking place;
It sends a shiver down my spine,
What this design conveys.
The ivory Colossus stands,
But not aesthetically;
The head is lying on the ground
Below Colossus' feet.
The bridge that carried big parades
Is sinking in the bay;
The makeshift bridge of tarp and rope
Is slowly giving way.
A cloud of smoke conceals the sky
And hovers overhead;
The sun cannot be seen for miles
And still still, it isn't dead.
The enemies are taking all,
From markets, homes, and lives;
They plunder, pillage, rape, and kill
Whatever stops their eyes.
The agony of being changed
Into a line of ruins,
It must be hard for some to grasp,
But not for me.
Maybe I'm just cynical,
Maybe I'm a nut;
Call me crazy if you will,
Insane, or just somewhat.
But really, can you blame me if
I find this picture frightening?
I know it's just a canvas in
A frame under a cheap lighting.
I cannot help but think that we're
Inside the "Consummation" state;
With drunkenness and merriment,
I fear that this will be our fate.
With celebrated heroes carved
From mortar, marble, bronze, and stone,
We're letting our awareness down,
Ignoring all that should be done.
I don't know when the time will come;
This frightens me the most;
They'll say "Sic transit gloria mundi"
As we become a ghost.
Ridding the world of you came at a cost
now I float without color
without virtue
Why can’t I feel my arms?
what were once extensions to hold me up
don’t provide much when walls aren’t a factor
This place has an odd irony
I seem to be the butt of it’s joke
No violence, love, hate or demeanor is needed
I don’t even think the decorator had any idea what to do with the interior
Gave it to the serpent and the man with the hat who sits on the clouds
I should probably move
Saints come here for purification
I’m the elephant in the room that everyone's well aware of
but unsure of
Do-gooders snicker and point
wonder why I’m even here
So much for secrecy, so much for some well earned alone time
I wanted to rest by the white tree
have a drink
wax idiotic with Dante and Virgil
rather that than being cleansed by fire
it was just one and she deserved it
There I go opening my big mouth again
the flames lick my toes as the chubby servants poke with their sticks
God damn it I told you I have a thick coat
this may take a while so I hope you brought something to read
Drink the elixir, pardon the purpose, give me the light and rest
bring on Hades
make a decision cause I’ve always been torn between the two
Not all bad is good and vice versa
Book it for the door as the red guy extends his grip
I should have tried a different route
no turning back now
I will not be reprimanded by the mountain
on this wing I’m carried back where I belong
amongst the hysterical and crying souls of a nameless generation
I’m back.... did you miss me?
Is the show over yet cause I’m barely alive
seemingly upset but overjoyed with a new sense of accomplishment
Has rushed
Over me
Over you
Over anyone within a ten block radius
An orchestrated string of events being pulled in by a whirlwind of summer night air
I’m indulging the rich and starving the poor
Aren’t I grand?
They heard I was in town but forgot to mark their calenders
showing up as the lock was placed on the door
Bring back the accolades I traded in a long time ago for workmanship
I crafted my skills
now I’m at the top of my game
yet still a bottom
She hasn’t given up yet
I’m in for it now
Forty hours of mascara and dance hall moves only God would regret watching
a possible pervert?
a ridiculous skank on the verge of letting out an organic sigh of relief?
This reeks of ravage
our clothes shine like nobody's business in the corner of the room
Just lick
The sorority
Daring blanket art
Chivalry through a nuance
Am I hitting the spot yet?
Have I reached the point when I’ll be thanked for my technique?
If I could at least get a signature I could blow this popsicle stand to hell and back
Trust me the devil will appreciate what I’ve done with the place
He’ll grant me access to illustrious dining halls and ocean views
a personal caterer so I can pick at the meat of the sinners
It’s about time
I can’t hold it back anymore
our panting will silence the Earth
hot breath will eradicate treelines and cityscapes
For everyone to witness., but mostly just her
mostly
Here ye’ here ye’
Read the headlines and polish the abstract newsletters
There’s a new trend amongst the weak
Sales tags mark the price of this new found phenomenon at a bargain
A steal if you will
You can pick it up for free at your local hot spot
Dripping from the noses of heathens holding a cup
Sipping their sorrows from a mug made of skin
Bound by a leather tassel and reeking of misdirection
There’s a fitting irony, how the drunkards tell the most truth
While the sober ones spit lies
At least a lush has summed it up to bad taste by proxy
If this isn’t what was intended
Why has the scale been tipped?
It seems a great suit and on the right track to me
So why is this vehicle swerving, dragging me to that shady side of the city
I should not be here
People like me get swallowed whole by the gutters and the wicked
I heard there’s no rest for them so it’s proper that they’ve set their roots in this town
Dream me out of here
Storm the lighthouse and set the beacon somewhere I can see it
I should fix my gaze towards better things but spoils are just more fun
Natural progression, zero tolerance, primal instinct
All the ingredients that make this product such a hit
You’ve been forewarned and forsaken that the side effects may overjoy
May the pessimistic turn optimistic through dissection of the left and right hemisphere
Gasp!
The end is near but I feel like I’ve just begun to breath in this new aroma
Light the flares
A new addiction walks this way....
Your past life always haunts you in some way in your future,
Whether you're a small time drug dealer or a born again shooter,
Every once in a while I get a drug dealers dream,
I get caught, and I'm always running from the cops it seems,
Last night I was in the admissions office sitting in school,
Trying to get in because the classes that I'm taking start soon,
So the dude asks me for some information that I had,
I pull out a whole sheet of crack rock in slabs,
So I said to myself "Oh snap what the heck is this?"
I know that if he called the cops I wouldn't get a slap on the wrist,
So we are both just staring at the table in disbelief,
My first thought is ""Get up out of here in one piece,"
I ain't gonna lie, the first thing I thought about was the block,
Then my instincts kicked in, I knew he was calling the cops,
So I packed up my bag and when I started to turn around,
The cops were at the doorway it was bout to go down,
I wasn't going to no cell thay had to take me in blood,
So I ran straight through them like a sponge through a sud,
I start running and keep running and there was no looking back,
My past came back to haunt me in the form of some crack,
It's kinda strange because in my dream I was trying to do right,
I was trying to go to school to change that negative sight,
What does this all mean? I know that the drug game is over,
Is the devil trying to test the will power of a soldier?