Long Beholden Poems
Long Beholden Poems. Below are the most popular long Beholden by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Beholden poems by poem length and keyword.
Andrei has an art trove..He's containing in a stronghold
Much beauty shares this grim same, with acid thats stored
With one aim.!
Molodkin's at the cutting edge' in the drive to remove the
Machevalin wedge.' Of prison for a hero' a true Aussie
Who we all know!
Julian who had a go' against lies and accusations flow!
Assange is held in belmarsh..! His health is fading
Real fast.'
Is his life also as much a part? I believe it is; and of a greater art'
A masterpiece, some pieces stolen, to Andrei i feel
Quite beholden.'
Set them free the objects dumb, along with this brave man
And Australia's son.'
I wondered about watching the eccentric earth, Are you a green globe of the universe?, Your head is a mighty mountains from birth, Sun and moon are your eyes says poet in verse.
You wear rivers as ornaments of worth, Forests are controlled by the beloved nurse, Decorating with lakhs of plants gives mirth, And you have millions of fauna that are diverse.
Volcanoes are the design of the earth, Are you always changing by the worst curse?, And adjust to human alive like birth, You are not beholden to fellow people's purse.
Humankind belongs to the mother earth, Save the life of our future universe.
Picturesque holy visions nature’s lands
Horizontal those the views
Elongated greens, mid color trees hands green
Bodies’ trunks grey, black and brown vibrant m
Upper tier skies written painted moving whites dots
On blue stationary canvas
Beauty sounds the tweet carries in the air;
Crisp summer breath
So sweet the heat barefooted are the feet
I walk in seven inch fine grass
So lovely are the trees
Conversing to one another
Waving in the vibrations
~
To each of its sisters and brothers
Beautiful wildlife in compass
Running green grasses under a rampant skies
So crisp clean the air the butterflies cries
Delighted in the tranquil stillness such is life, a life is breathe
What is left clouds? So lovely are the trees
Caterpillar running on moisten leaves
Just darts the rabbit he hops along out of harm’s way!
Deer’s peering eye to eye
Antlers locked about bumping heads challenges
Where translate beholden th’ swollen hill
Covered the red clay dirt fiery boast
~
Green, green hills valley brine
White marshmallows puffs in the skies
So much am I in love with the view
A nature canvas, ’vr natural
Shape shades of greens rolling hills of bladed dews
Who am I to question with my nostrils nor my eyes?
Embracing I am the land set before me
Ever friendly all the lawn those greens
All so friendly waving are the trees
So adorning, I’m exploring my host
Nature’s beauty my senses embrace up close
Yields of country lands reconnaissance
~
Observant pleasant picturesque inviting
Climbs even the breeze, nature grows continually
Naught disturbs thy quiet, all to thy service yields,
I naked ankles down I walk I crush the grasses
Sweet soft small animals scurry away unto me,
For am I not the caretaker
For am I the gardener
For am I the gardener
For am I the gardener
I partake of my visions view
I am the caretaker of my view
Upon my eyes all is well and natures beautiful
For am I the gardener
I partake of my visions view
8/9/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
I lost my ability to think for myself
As I sat atop the Church of Santa Maria de Idris
Carved into the cliffside while I sat sewn into its ridges
I had spent the former sun’s passage wandering the City of Stones
The hours loosened themselves as I passed beneath canopies of trailing vines
Draped over blanched bricks steeped
In shades of beige-and-brown-and-orange-and-grey
Vestiges of the past worn
Down each wall, each path
Woodwinds whistle and beckon me from the distance
But my anticipation allows no acquittance
I remain doggedly beholden to
The eventual night that promised to keep me alone
I lie in the sky yet remain fastened to the earth
My back chiseled by the jagged rock I chose as my resting place
My head suspended beyond its edge
So that the stars sleep beneath me and the city
Yellowed by the languor of its dim-lit paths
Hangs in the balance of our sweet nothingness
Zig-zagging-every-which-way
Like an I Spy book brought suddenly to life
Can you spot the soul in a world you know possesses none?
I speak of this not with any great anguish
But with a peculiar sense of contentment
One that has itself become the source of my gravest grief
For its mere existence renders mine worthless
I strain to reach into the dimness of memory
I blacken my mind to conjure my darkest fears
I even invite you into my mind
Dressed in every shade of my maladjustment
But none can hold a candle to the sight that lies before me
Along with the sharp ache impressed on my back
For the first time, physicality exceeds my once-thought-bottomless-imagination
And my mind affords me no liberation
Though I have always sought after some chimerical escape
Only here do I realize that such elusion is but another passage through delusion
And not the good kind
The kind that leaves me feeling childish and naive
As though in leaving I had mistaken distance for transcendence
Believing myself to be rising above it all
When all along I had been looking at the whole world upside down
Oh, mythical fairy, how bashfully you woo me tonight
Attuning love’s lyrics to music of the passionate night
Alluring astral delight, the moon and stars you invite
Dazzling passions emanating from your enticing eyes
Twinkling celestial heights in scintillating smitten skies
Seducing tenor of fiery night, as sparks of love ignite
Inflaming sensuous hearts under opulent moonlight
As the lady of mystique embraces her beloved knight.
Whirling rhythms of my tempo in glamorous dance
My desires you waltz beaming glances of romance
Hypnotizing me brazenly in clutches of exotic stance
Arousing flirtatious entreaties clamoring to conceive
Tantalizing sensibilities yearnings of bosoms weave
In forbidden web of transgressions, longing to unseal
Secrets of fantasy world, titillating your occult zeal,
As essence of love’s enigma surrenders to my appeal.
Savor my dear, elixir of life, before it’s time to depart
Painting portrait of this union on canvas of my heart
Narrating love poetically, reminiscent of Rumi’s glory
Adorning fable-eternal, scripting rhapsodic allegory
Beholden to doting night, unwilling to meet the dawn,
As echoes of our heart-bells endlessly toll on and on
Urging for this dream to live on, stilling reign of time,
Cuddling pleasures divine, satiating fantasies sublime.
September 24, 2020
Placed 2nd: The night of passion and desire poetry contest
Sponsor: Faraz Ajmal
Turn to me, ohh ! Little ONE
Turn to me,
If loving you is a crime
So let US be the murderS that killed time In just a matter of seconds.
you whom i would behold till the dawn of time!
Allow me to languish in your beauty unseen,
let me alone bath in your impurities,
and be filled by your glorious scent,
Feed me with all that there is,
the forbidden fruit of passion,
the mixture of bitter, sour and sweet,
The deity that you are! from whence love floweth,
a wonder to be beholden, a prophecy to be foretold and a danger to be warned of!
How can man survive your absence?and what more of your presence!
Night long, daylong, you are thought of,
seconds are but a day's journey in my thoughts,
@H2O
No matter communication
betwixt us askew,
spontaneity explains reason I dashed
off this poem for thee and thy beau
pattern ally conscious at obvious clue,
how overjoyed, (though a
self subdued exclude did dude) due
tuff fully feels beholden to
toil let past hateful indiscretions
jackknifing kindred luck,
and quite convenient
for me to eschew
avoidance behaviour (my specialty) etu
Brutus tangled with Popeye ignoring
sailor man turned beastie boy, no foo-
ling, sans spinach (spin age) of my boyhood
fighter, aye linkedin hearty genuine parental
affection culled forth
since your joyous birth,
ah how the years flew
and fierce determination grew
a strong vibrant young lady,
with BOTH brains and brawn, a hue
man... er woman, whose
heart could melt an igloo,
thus thy motive of this
very reformed gentile Jew
nary a whit of genealogy I learned,
hence this schlemiel lets
out eclectic Kathmandu
gestalt steeped, not the
least familiar about Semitic customs,
smidgen much less
than mine parents knew,
which deems yours truly cock eye loo
wee, perhaps this poem
not very a moo
zing to ye, yet
an extemporaneous whim
kindled this papa to write,
especially, when mother came home
exhausted, yet alight
with bubbling ebullience
at dazzling bright
unbridled vibrant warm
yawping zealous delight
displayed between thee,
our eldest daughter,
she (mother) burst with excite
ability, her frothing, gurgling,
and harboring flight
of fancy, thee, and respectable
gentleman from Puerto Rico
fit like a hand glove - and also
approximately the same height
no deterrent for me to gauge insight
and reckon both perfect
as day and knight!
Candles Never Lit
Wicks held captive
Or perhaps
Protected
Embryos held in tethered limbo
What shall the flame's first breath be
Beneath a citadel of worship
A first birthday
A stealth venture into the attic
An exploration through one's innate catacombs
Experienced alone
Life's simple tool made company
Exploring rooms of discovery
A comfort-place of isolation
Where one's dreams
One's fears
Remain ever faithful to light's purpose
For just as birth bears but singular reality
So too the limpid string
Encased in its molten nativity
Made hard
To last
Is used
As the grounding
The tool enabling serene freedom
Glimmer's heat
Radiance flickering
One's ethereal passion
Seeks no object to burn
No identity to possess
But solely to be
The candle's flame
But for imagining
Dreams of no restrictions
Just as the child sees everything as natural
Just as the shimmer of what can be
Is
Except for those who...
Only beholden to the consent
Of one's creativity
One's willingness to burn fully
Then accept the dimming
For the moment
Having expended its full radiance
For now
But remaining ever ready for the next lighting
How sad
Those boxed candles never lit
Knowing never of their purpose
From crispy candied apples, sticky sweets,
Derive the base by which my lines accrue;
For when pure-love reduced by coal depletes,
Then train of thought does simmer heavy rue.
As though embittered soup deducted cream:
Increasing one but makes another lack -
My fossil engine still beholden steam;
Thereby, poetic stew remains on track.
But, if I’m chef then who’s the engineer?
Smart poets pluck the vine whose fruit is loose;
As such, sweet compliments, ex-wife austere,
For all my wounds and her divine caboose -
Because, while pain and sadness garnish me,
Her tracks through me conduct my recipe.
1/31/2017
Enticing sweet dreams you tiptoe
Charming passions memories spun
From days of our youth long ago
When quest of love had just begun
When in your heart I'm all alone
Enticing sweet dreams you tiptoe
Blazing desires we've felt and known
Kindled embers of romance glow
Musings endearing you well know
When our engaging souls impart
Enticing sweet dreams you tiptoe
Holding me captive of your heart
Oh! how our indulgent hearts woo
Flame of ardent past still aglow
Courting love beholden and true
Enticing sweet dreams you tiptoe
November 1, 2021
Quatern (eight syllables per line)
Placed 3rd: “S” Contest, New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme: Sweet