Long Ballets Poems
Long Ballets Poems. Below are the most popular long Ballets by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ballets poems by poem length and keyword.
be lucky enough to find love
with one person
and fortunate enough
to become friends
seems it's not worth the mentioning
when all your relationship
comes to an end
aint worth much of nothing
when it seems everything has changed
when you start feeling
like your lover has become your enemy
they say you began acting
strange
let him know
get let the feelings go
she aint never loved you
he been around the
world
made a lot of friends
and never had a special someone
she start talking about you
behind your back
and people start acting dumb
leave her be
aint much to it
if she aint real all the time
strange things happen
when the ones you love don't
keep you first
priortizing
what real
and your freind is alway
on their mind
just let it be
let go
she don't love you
a story about a man down and out, he never found a worthy partner.
he often find love, but meddling folk wish ing freindship would divide the loyalites
of two poeple, to make conversation. feeling important often mean selling your soul to be seen as wise. often from a novices view it make no sense to be lovd. a fool in his own relation, that is made spectical of for the sake of meanest. break a Heart and be blessed. "Fall in love and miss out on the goodlife" said one woman!
full of music and rhythmic grooves and ballets.
Tomorrow shall be a new day
Even if your mood is all grey today
The sun shall shine in the hay
And make you feel like summer's in the way!
Raining it is like cats and dogs
Pouring frogs down over the logs
Rivers race and run to be the first
To get to the sea to quench their thirst
Muddy boots, drenched raincoats
Today you shall be the King of Oats
No need to worry, after a night's sleep
The new dawn shall be shining deep!
Rainbows, birds, butterflies even fairies
All laughing and playing with the lillies
Such is the forecast for a new day
After you let go of today, oh so grey!
Hearts hammering at the sight of clouds
No more runny noses and black shrouds
Bees having fun in ballrooms or at ballets
Say Hey brave new day to all the valets!
Wick lit candles provided lead the path to the cemetery
Event that honor loved ones who have passed and are buried
La Catrina walks side by side with kindred spirits marching in sync
Crowns of chrysanthemum flowers of the month are pretty in pink
Offerings of sweet bread and mezcal, for the afterlife, plenty for all
Mexican Dia De Los Muertos, a family’s time for reflection
Eyeliner and charcoal shadow, skull-faced paint is our tradition
Nudging is “Fall-back” one hour—daylight savings time engages
Our Thanksgiving blessings for our annual harvest of ages
Veteran’s Day celebrated, bereaved ones in tears
Election Day on the first Tuesday of every four years
Mascarade balls, ballets, operas, and all that jazz
Birthstone rings sparkle with yellowish-orange topaz
Eleventh month, the Full Beaver Moon appears in Gemini
Rapturous is the moon in November’s blissful sky
I have an abnormal fear of pink typewriter keys.
I have never seen them, but I have dreamt of them, and they are terrifying.
They type ballets, and love poems, and mushy, lacy, dreamy, girly stuff.
When they are not typing, they are chasing me across fields of Barbie dolls
Dressed in plumes, polka dots, and plaids.
I also have an abnormal fear of Ken dolls.
They terrify me; with their weird stiff hands,
and their glass eyed stares.
They look unnatural and un-normal,
I used to have one and I could barely sleep.
Thinking of him under the bed in the brown shoe box,
thinking of ways to murder me.
Ken, kick, kilt, kill, right?
Pink typewriter keys and Ken dolls.
My worst nightmares.
HEARTBEATS ON PAS FE DEUX
Starstruck by your smile as I opened my eyes
Snow-white cheeks glows to peaches sweet
Running fingertip to heart shaped lips
As spring breeze kiss, I am a lady longing to grow
Fear a lost shadow because warmth flows
With your presence alone, I am soppy blown
You bestow me a new life within a universe that's dark
Walk with me, don't you depart
Let's decorate views: a tapestry of you and me
Man ... how quick you boil my fire
Your heart thumps a crystal chime choir
Cushioned pleased from your musky scent
Words weak and not needed for us to speak
Beside the hearth, let's dance our anthem real slow
as our heartbeats jive in a pas de deux
If by chance you catch my eye
I hope for you to see our sparkles high...
Our footwork a unison graceful cruise
Two become one in this dance we choose
Best given as we don't wanna to lose
© O. E. Guillermo
October 24, 2014; 10:27pm
***Inspired by the poem made by James Fraser: THE FONDER OF YOU
***PAS DE DEUX (French, literally "step of two") is a dance duet in which two dancers, typically a male and a female, perform ballet steps together. The pas de deux is characteristic of classical ballet and can be found in many well-known ballets, including Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake, and Giselle.
Personal preference enters into every poetry contest
Outstandingly subjective
Enticing to one is repulsive to two others
Tricky to judge poems unless there are blatant errors
Ridiculous with a capital R to compare a poem against another
You can try though. Snicker. Snicker.
Comparing one poem to another is like comparing a flea to mirror.
Awesome to you is too dull for me to finish reading.
Notoriously wonderful to me is something you do not like a whit.
Normal people do not even read poetry, and yet, here we are….
Often contests shut down new poets who do not realize the numbers game.
Takes guts to put feelings to paper, and you may have to enter ten to win one.
Beautiful poetry to me is a waste of ink to you.
Enthusiasm captures my eyes, but only when written in my preferred styles.
Creativity sashays in a variety of ballets and watusi.
Outstandingly subjective. I cannot stress this enough!
Metaphoric writes intrigue me, yet I do not do them myself.
Poetry is pronouncedly purposefully a preferred personal preference.
A win means the judge liked it at this second at this minute of her day.
Reality is that you, as a poet, have to write like a painter has to paint.
Especially remember when reviewing and critiquing your own poetry,
Despite everyone else’s opinion, do you like it yourself? That is the key.
inked in bright colours on the tapestry of my mind
a rainbow takes its light from the luminous rain
amber sun rays reflect condensation of thoughts
purple emotions flood third eyes at new dawn
a swallow teases visions of peace embroidered
in the cinnamon canvas of scrumptious delight
the soft touch of your vibrant imagination
sends heatwaves into thunderous awakening
we become a crescendo as tantra enters our spirit
the palette tickles lips and tingles the gloss of our kiss
days become ballets in hues of exuberant love
darkness recedes as we follow spirit karma and love
The sun and moon may seem like polar opposites but similarities abound…
They’re both round, inhabitants of the sky and they both cast shadows on the ground.
They are both bright, share their light…each one rises and each one sets
and it’s only under their light we discover our changing shadows and shifting silhouettes.
The shadows they cast are sometimes tall…sometimes wide…in the wind they dance a beautiful ballet…every now and then they hide…we can watch them fade away.
Is this just another example of the scope of Mother Nature’s reach…
or could this be another lesson she’s subtly trying to teach?
Yes Mother Nature is amazing…her wisdom continues to astound…
as she reminds us how the light we share casts our shadows on the ground.
If we are blessed enough to be the light in someone’s life…
then how long that light will last…
depends a great deal…on the shadows that we cast.
Sometimes the shadows we cast on others need to be tall…sometimes wide…
sometimes they need to be short…sometimes they need to hide.
Shadows tall and wide…willing to walk with us when we need a smile, a laugh or shed a tear…shadows that know when they’re not needed and silently disappear.
Shadows cast from our light…
meant to enhance our friends's and family’s beautiful ballets…
Shadows we hope they will long remember…
long after our shadow fades away.
GOOD QUILL HUNTING
8/2/2023
Deep into the caverns of my mind
I sauntered,
To perhaps discover treasures, I
wondered.
Something divinely sparkling and
shimmeringly sweet.
For other souls to cherish and to
soulfully keep!
In these caverns, it's dark and so
mystically still!
I anticipate a bright new poem just
waiting for me on a gleaning, turquoise hill.
Poetry so much like the grandest of ballets.
A new poem, to pen then,without undue delay!
Ballet of the Stars
Breath of the galaxy spins the night sky
Over the magic of midsummer dreams
Legends, lovers, pirouette through the night
Sculptures of fire carved with airy light beams
Dances l’etoile sparkle winter rondeaus
Gossamer nebulas leave stardust veils
Ensembles of stars in stellar tableaus
Costumed in lightness made of starry faille
Astral ballets dance on ebony stage
Patterns of stars in place in this dark space
Stage left then stage right arrangements change place
Celestial performance – rotating grace
Star-spangled glitter on star twinkle toes
Scrim curtain rises on nighttime’s light show.
5-18-23
Contest: Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Syllables checked with www.howmanysyllables
Celestial – 3 syllables
Performance – 3 syllables