Long Bain Poems
Long Bain Poems. Below are the most popular long Bain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bain poems by poem length and keyword.
Who can remember the first time we felt the beat of our heart?
Was it when we first kissed or had it broken?
Possibly, it was when we were first told about the metaphorical love of the heart!
Maybe it was when we used it as appreciation for one’s token!
Whether it beats in the light or the rain!
The warmth goes on in the cold and shocks us to the core!
The hidden thoughts of the mind become our Bain!
It goes through to the soul as it moves quickly like an iron bore!
Gripping the heart and soul together is either blissful in a warm embrace
Or it is a cold vice hold on our emotions
Let the warmth of our enemies be to their face a wet mace!
Maybe we should curse our choices and devotions.
In my heart, you are the burning kindle upon my fire!
You are the one who set ablaze my smile and rekindled my desire!
"Fathoms Deeper"
What are these strange creatures?
They swim in skins
not their own
calling us
into them
they amuse us
we are fathoms deeper
they
are a long way
from Home
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Swimming with orca in New Zealand, 2/3/2016.
https://youtu.be/JQ3mDXF3bcE
July, 2022. Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia.
Orcas.
Billy Bain, Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/865795424/videos/pcb.10166246143865425/1057112558247174
https://www.fisheries.noaa.gov/species/killer-whale
https://www.livescience.com/27431-orcas-killer-whales.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orca
Introspection
suspends in dark blue amnion
as rainwater blooms a reflection pool
an oasis of energy for contemplative embryo;
in stillness I grow.. my pulse a flowing stream of raindrops
my body the rhythm maker
my mind the artiste
in a cocoon a rhythmic womb —
a primal nest gestates my om
b r e a t h i n g i n
b r e a t h i n g o u t
saturation of breath
soaks and stretches my cortex canvas;
within the indigo sphere
I paint a mural
upon my sacred temple walls
a self-portrait
with a benevolent brush dipped in starlight –
I surrender staying and portraying within the lines
uncaged colors roam
beyond my human extremities and Earth’s edge
gouache-plashes of teal and fuchsia
fraternize with fibers of flesh and marrow
conceiving abstracts as airy as sparrow dreams
as I - a mindful explorer flies an inner cosmos
beyond the confines of the canvas white
outside the frames of physicality and reality
to throw open window panes to the unlimited
to banish pains of the limited — free
my meditative spirit making art with the universe
Susan Ashley
September 7, 2022
~ Fifth Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 18
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Brian Strand Premiere Choice
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Photo: The Seer; Laurie Bain Hamilton - owner of primalpainter
A Penn Valley phantom appears to haunt and lurk
premises at 1148 Greentree Lane
his youngest daughter (Abby) I pledged my troth and, natch won my Zison’s
Dunkirk
ire and vindictiveness akin to rivalry of Abel versus Cain
now breeds and festers hallucinations that make me go berserk
also brings to mind myth of another named King Canute, a Great Dane
whose battle cry and hymn of the Republic made manifest with ease of dirk
visitations with ethereal sprite pushes me to madness and makes me go
insane
torture treatment mangles mental management amidst mire and murk!
The rattle of chains heard despite noiseless apparition and wraith, which curse
and bain
from dark and sinister shadows make me feel like a jerk
at such fallacious belief in preternatural imaginative creations ranked as inane
by this skeptic whose vulnerable acuteness to otherworldly visages does perk
especially during wee hours of morning when superstition runs amuck and
seems to gain
upper hand and let spiral out of rational control thought of afterlife quirk
yet confession must be made that long dead father of wife does wag finger of
disdain
and utter silent disapproval and near ruination by marrying a bum of a guy who
lacks for work!
A Penn Valley phantom appears to haunt and lurk
premises at 1148 Greentree Lane
his youngest daughter (Abby) I pledged my troth and, natch won my Zison’s
Dunkirk
ire and vindictiveness akin to rivalry of Abel versus Cain
now breeds and festers hallucinations that make me go berserk
also brings to mind myth of another named King Canute, a Great Dane
whose battle cry and hymn of the Republic made manifest with ease of dirk
visitations with ethereal sprite pushes me to madness and makes me go
insane
torture treatment mangles mental management amidst mire and murk!
The rattle of chains heard despite noiseless apparition and wraith, which curse
and bain
from dark and sinister shadows make me feel like a jerk
at such fallacious belief in preternatural imaginative creations ranked as inane
by this skeptic whose vulnerable acuteness to otherworldly visages does perk
especially during wee hours of morning when superstition runs amuck and
seems to gain
upper hand and let spiral out of rational control thought of afterlife quirk
yet confession must be made that long dead father of wife does wag finger of
disdain
and utter silent disapproval and near ruination by marrying a bum of a guy who
lacks for work!
A moment without love
what could be for
Where I'm just lying
a longing core
Where all I want
is peace of mind
When all my heart
is swept to find
And only love is fine by me
When not enough to set it free
Though long enough to cause it pain
and drawn as small as down the drain
As all my feelings have no end
to what is loved for me to end
When only love is lost to me
as all I've loved flows back to me
And ending in a world of bain
when reaching out means no one plain
As all my love is out to be
detached from life I know to be
And all her love not fit to see
As all her love to bright for me
For I am weak and still in love
When all the times's means meant to shove
Where love can take you to the other
but not be seen for love another
As only God can make what's true
when all that's life must pay to you
For all the wonders you would stead
for all the love that's God ahead
When even love is left to him
in only loved by blessed to whim
Short forms have beauty & clarity having succinctness and thus are more easily memorised having the capacity to both show & tell,especially when sequenced into longer variations.And some forms like acrostic,kyrielle, terzanelle, villanelle&pantoum are useful 'learning
the trade' exercise devices just as scales are used to teach piano.They tend however to be too contrived,repetitive and so mechanical.
The danger with longer verse ( labelled as 'free' ) is the lack of ' poetry ' therein ie no cadence and thereby visually difficult to both read and recite . In this digital device age ,this bain thereof 'the 'wrap around' long lines , which all too often,are in reality ,prose 'masquerading' as verse.
The golden rule of poetry ,whether reading or reciting any verse is one 'breath limitation' factor,naturally inherent in the human being.
The shame was relished
when met with wanting eyes
How I longed to be held
and open up for sexting blighs
When every thought I had to have was..
trust for shaming eyes
When ever trust I knew to see
was faith for moving thighs
When all at once a voice would say
don't move for what comes by
When at that time were fates what made
more safe come back for time
As at that light was one response
more plates come back to dine
When in that Hell more words go by
than sakes claw back on line
When everywhere each person's reach
brocks back for each to rine
Is everywhere each hopes the least
tore out from beast oblign
And every hope
all lost to man
unqueath
you'll cost to clan
When every time you waited for
was blessed more plate to find
When every fall where plate could tyne
was placed on death for kind
And calling all who feel the shame
to come down to the pain
When even love's past half that mind
And most flee post-bast bain