Long Bare(a) Poems

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


Premium Member The Sun That Parts the Clouds

Through frayed seams a rosy dream bleeds 
needled and re-stitched 
with threads of time and love and hope..

and still — a rosy dream bleeds 
the miscarriage of a promised rose garden 
leaving me bereft but for entwined bands of gold – 
contemplative thorns tempt my angst 
moony moody barbs bristle twigs of tenderness 

sigh— it’s not a laurel wreath worn atop my brow
as I sit alone with a squeamish friend 
my  blue-sky-to-storm-cloud  introspection —
as your distant eyes deserted mine long ago  

Winter's beast laid bare a cerebral graveyard 
lost you wander amongst laid-to-rest neurons 
worn headstones of thoughts and laughter and memories…
you wonder why they hide  — why they died

the crackle of cognitive circuitry quiets 
branched-lightning fades from unwitting clouds
and aged roots of reality perish 

our red rose finished   fallen to pieces 
you-and-me-petals a messy heap like old potpourri —
yet in dark’s hush    love’s scent lingers on our dream pillow 

Oh nostalgic sepals embrace me! 
my heart yearns to return to the bud  
to the fullness of our June bloom — 

instead, I bury desires beneath life’s litterfall; 
amid pollenless stamens and leaves of one-sided reveries
and cage  my fear  my despair  behind purple thistle facing the light

as I free a smile for you, my love — 

you    my sun that still parts the rain-bearing nimbus


Cinnamon Leaves of Autumn

Autumn teases the last cinnamon leaves
clinging to branches with amber fingers.
Seasonal change awakens Nature's thieves,
a wafting breeze that doggedly lingers,
stripping trees bare; a scene that sadly grieves.

Fall sings in a rhythmic glissando voice
announcing it's time that she takes the helm.
We acquiesce, given no other choice.
She reigns over Indian Summer's realm,
painting meadows and vales as we rejoice.

Acorns are gathered by hoarding squirrels
who scurry to find the tasty jewels,
cherishing them as valuable pearls.
As north winds blow, the temperature cools.
Chimney smoke drifts in white ribbons and curls.

Time for harvesting ripe apples for pies.
Halloween pumpkins are put on display.
Carefully, we watch Autumn's sullen skies
Clouds grow heavy, in shades of nimbus gray.
A gaggle of geese in migration, flies.

Autumn dresses herself in wrinkled gown.
Ruffled skirt in hues of crimson and gold.
Bodice in ochre, trimmed in walnut brown,
a russet cloak worn when a chill takes hold,
woven from wizened leaves that tumbled down.



July 13, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 1 Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Originally posted in September 2021

Premium Member Concieved

i haven't forgotten
the sultriness of your lips 
the infamous toss of my hips 
the quiet haste the unfullfilled taste 
that calm way the sun beamed 
that warm way the breeze blew 
softly over our bronzed form 
connected two souls 
creating another one 
woven silver threads clinging 
to my fountains lure raising tides 
the bayou's dance over france 
we both wore london fogs
dripping wetness of hidden 
tangible desire's beckoning 
spirit's beyond the bottoms hush 
soft cheeks bare a pink blush
jasper gazed beneath teal stones 
broken bread crumbs scrumptious skoans
the best part devouring a satisfying tart 
a splash encounter red wines fine art
given birth to this tiny needy soul 
on top of white linen 
bathe in a porcelain bowl

Wishful Thinking Brings Only Sorrow

There is no longer any sign of hope,

The truth of reality are to much to bare,

My mangled mind can no longer cope,

As i am filled with nothing but despair.

I long for the fortune of a normal life,

To bare a babe surely a women’s right,

So long my womb craves to hold a life,

To broken to hold the purist of light.

The loneliness of a solo fight,

My life alone no love from my child,

A life to be filled with only pain in sight,

I often wonder how my child would smile,

I question myself why bother to carry on,

The only bind my word keeps me here i say,

All of us lie maybe i could be sly a lie just one,

But my soul would be the one to pay so they say,

Could or would the one end my constant anguish,

But he’s wrath would mark me eternally condemned,

I could fight again but will my hope be vanquished,

Regardless of it all i am certain i will reach a bitter end.
© Sarah Cope  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Alabaster Box


She saw through tear filled eyes
The kindness in his own
She heard the witness of
The miracles he'd shown
But her past was full of sin
Of brokenness and shame
That made her so afraid
To call out Jesus name
So instead, to show her love
She knew she'd have to start
By letting go of sin and self
By giving him her heart.

What is in your alabaster box?
What came to you at such a great cost?
You've held onto it so long
And coveted the pain
But Jesus wants to free you
From fear from guilt from shame
Pour it all out now
At his beautiful feet,now bare
Wash them with your tears
And dry them with your hair. 

 Maybe it's not past sins
 you've shut away and bare
 maybe it's some hurt
that you've refused to share
 now is the right time
 while Jesus is so near
to finally let it go
to finally shed your tears
 and if you continue to
 hold on so tight to your pain
 you'll never know the freedom
 of how your heart will change

What is in your alabaster box?
What came to you at such a great cost?
You've held onto it so long
And coveted the pain
But Jesus wants to free you
From fear from guilt from shame
Pour it all out now
At his beautiful feet,now bare
Wash them with your tears
And dry them with your hair. 

You will always stumble
When you bare a heavy load
All by yourself, all alone
We can depend 
on His strength and might
For He said," my yoke is easy
And my burden light"

What is in your alabaster box?
What came to you at such a great cost?
You've held onto it so long
And coveted the pain
But Jesus wants to free you
From fear from guilt from shame
Pour it all out now
At his beautiful feet,now bare
Wash them with your tears
And dry them with your hair.
Form: Rhyme


Pride Is Brittle, It Breaks Before It Gives

At times I wish I could be…….
-Just like everybody else
But then I feel I could get better
-Being true to myself with everybody else

I am hard, strong & so unstable,
-emotions running wild and rampant
-deep and pensive my soulful thoughts
Though a shame to waste such depth in sorrowful indifference
-because I know that I am brittle
Broken, alone, dry and fallen
-a little stick shaped for the lord’s greater purpose
…………………..So I yearn ……………and I yearned
I yearned and I wished I could be
-Just like everybody else
But then I heard I can be greater
-im made and shaped for humble-loving-kindness
I can be better, for love is strongest & far greater
-a gift of sacrifice & forgiveness, a force without resistance
Just like the seas vast boundless and bare, a force prideness cannot conceal
Form:

Premium Member Abandon Sparks at Dusk

Written: May 17, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Constance La France

Quote: "Abandon this world, so that you may become king of all worlds. Throw away your handful of sugar, so that you may become the sugar field." By Rumi

        ****************

I left the light on, but nobody could stay,
Then a spark of optimism that faded away.
You perish akin to wind over an altar of dust, 
Left whispers in apparel I ceased to trust.

I sighed farewell with the air I still taste,
A timer in a space designed from waste.
I closed all the doors, but one stayed ajar,
Your quiet came in akin to a declining star.

I avoided mirrors that displayed your face,
And left the gardens we felt were our place.
I view you in screens and sense you in sleep,
A specter that spirits would rather not seep.

I departed without scream or sound,
Left love as a tomb in ignored ground.
Now liberty is bare, a frigid sort of sin,
A house without walls, but pain within.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Shattered

See it?
The cracks, the fractures - open, bleeding.
My mind laid bare, a battlefield of glass,
barbed wire threading through my thoughts,
indoctrinating spirals slicing through every soft impulse.

Chaotic proportionality,
twisted in the wake of your hands.
You constructed this wreck,
hammered rules into bone,
scarred my spine in silence,
every word a shard left to corrode in me.

visceral in every memory,
every cut screams with the echo of control.
Ant still-
you walk on it.
step after step,
your words drive splinters deeper into my skin,
indifference pressing down like stone.

Every slash bears your signature,
every jagged edge charts the space you occupy
while I lay shattered beneath it.

I do not flinch.
I do not move.
I am the ruin you made me,
exposed,
and yet you're still upright,
on the pieces of me
you discarded.

The typestry of memories

In the depths of gloomy memories,
Where shadows dance and light fades,
A tapestry of thoughts unravels,
Some to resolve, some to cherish,
And others, the heart-wrenching stains.
The hours slip away like sand,
A barrelhead of moments to pay,
Eyes filled with love for wife and child,
Scenes of heart's backslapping play,
Thoughts packed tight like sardines,
Some sweet, some bitter, all intertwined.
The days of old, with teardrops shed,
A life's roll marred by pain,
Yet now, scales fall from tired eyes,
No longer deceived, a truth unchained.
In the echo of fading light,
A symphony of memories takes flight,
A cacophony of joy and strife,
A soul laid bare, a dance of life.
The past, a ghost that haunts the mind,
Yet in its grip, a freedom found,
For in these memories, we find our truth,
A journey through the shadows of our youth.
Form:

before it was fate

In shadows deep, where silence grew,
I fought a battle, none ever knew,
The weight I bare, a heavy chain,
While smiles hid deep, the hidden pain,

They laughed and chatted, lost in the day,
oblivious to the demons in my way,
I wore a mask, crafted so bright,
yet the tears fell, softly into the night,

I cried for help in whispers faint,
But their backs turned, as if by fate,
A gentle plea, a grasping hand,
Yet they missed the signs, the need to understand,

Now the echos linger a haunting sound,
Of moments lost, of love untold
They stand in sorrow, crying when it's late
Wishing they had noticed,

Before it was fate.
Form: Rhyme

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