Long Bending Poems
Long Bending Poems. Below are the most popular long Bending by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bending poems by poem length and keyword.
The time I got from eternity made me a part of you,
as my desire flared like the blazing galaxy of the cosmos,
I was keen to see the day my dreams would come true,
when your love will pull me though the void of oneness.
The sense of yearning came in the zero hour of awakening,
soaring on the dreaming wings of the silenced time,
stalled in my sky where you glided like a consumed star,
its catching cadence created a surreal symphony in my heart.
The rhythm of celestial music harmonized with my essence,
where the ethereal emotions sank in the space of rhapsody
that wrapped you and me, blending us together forever,
consecrated the concept of capturing craving called love.
At the acme of surreal desire of magnetic longing,
the private space between us imploded to nothingness.
Our fused souls then turned into oblivious singularity,
suspended in the deep space of invisible obscurity.
As your captivating allure sucked my psyche within you,
bending my self-control and deforming my sense of time,
I gravitated with my stellar passion at fervent horizon of fusion,
lost myself within your infinite depth of black hole love.
(Etheree 1)
Red
falling
petals of
sweet, scented hues
gently dripping, long,
slim green and yellow leaf
with softly painted flowers
her amazing beauty glowing
with devilish intrigue and wonder,
stunning, everlasting and infinite
(Etheree 2)
They call her, Ginger, with bright hair ablaze
around her beautiful neck like the
soft flowers blooming fragrantly
in bending clusters over
hanging limbs that end like
fingertips, so smooth.
She drinks in life
as she storms
through the
world.
(Written Together)
Red they call her, Ginger, with bright hair ablaze
falling around her beautiful neck like the
petals of soft flowers blooming fragrantly
sweet, scented hues in bending clusters over
gently dripping, long, hanging limbs that end like
slim green and yellow leaf fingertips, so smooth.
With softly painted flowers she drinks in life
her amazing beauty glowing as she storms
with devilish intrigue and wonder, through the
stunning, everlasting and infinite world.
08/30/15
The 19th century stole this artist's soul,
causing him heartache and much turmoil.
His style of painting, too avant-garde, not dark enough or hard.
His expressive colors and vibrant art was mostly met with disgust.
In this era, it was not realistic enough.
At first poverty provoked him to paint things he could see, such as flowers, farmers and small trees.
Later his famous Red Vineyard, intense, red and bold.
I often wondered, what message did it hold ? Was he saying,“Am I a conflicted soul?”
But he persevered as an exceptional painter.
His ideas never waned, despite the times he felt judgement or pain.
Despite it all, Van Gogh felt pride and was able to put their ridicule aside.
He moved to Paris in 1882
and jumped into its bright happy milieu,
Impressionism, an accepting world of new.
Resilience, brilliance, permission for his jeweled art.
A creative mind, slowly accepted for his love of design.
Strong, tall sunflower stems,
bending with bursting seed pods for feathered friends.
Like a dove,this yellow painting I truly loved.
His famous art of a twinkling Starry Night
Each stroke from his brush, gave a lovely light.
Like humans, we are all unique, and one of a kind,
and like Van Gogh's stars, we can also shine.
Blossoms growing on an Almond Branch decorated white.
Van Gogh’s painting of nature’s, flowering delight.
Against his slim crooked branch, soft blossoms danced.
His adoration for the first tree in June, sang a spring tune
Now more freedom and fondness for his artistic flair.
More acceptance of his colorful art in the air,
but at times in his mind, trouble and despair.
He met his sorrowful fate, after painting his self portrait, Eternity's Gate.
He painted for decades, despite the sadness at times he faced.
But his artistic abilities never were never erased.
2,000 paintings, sadly only one sold.
But the history of Van Gogh will always be told.
This is actually a form called: Kenning but, there wasn't a form listed for it.
I just wanted to try one; hope it's decent.
Swirling, twirling,
Windy-curling’s;
Rounding bark,
After dark.
Never ending
Branches bending;
Leaves singing;
Falls greeting.
Flying debris,
Landing free;
Raining-houses;
Sometimes mouse’s.
Cracking-clacking,
Branches snapping.
Buildings crumbling;
Mind-numbing.
Fear spreading,
Roofes shredding;
Stomach turning,
Heart-burning.
Car-flipping,
Winds tripping;
Scrambling livestock;
Air-spinning.
Dogs barking,
Birds flocking;
Traffic lights,
In flight.
These things,
Tornado brings.
Insurance claims;
Awful pain.
There are eminent personages among the enlisted grades,
Who deserve the utmost in respect and well-earned accolades.
These are the dedicated Sergeants of whom I speak,
Who guide the strong and encourage the weak!
Steadfast leaders whom commanders rely upon,
When they need to get the tough jobs done.
Never-bending sturdy oaks in the face of adversity,
Possessing traits held by few - loyalty and integrity!
Sergeants descend from a long and distinguished tradition,
Following those who faithfully served with great distinction.
Proudly wearing chevrons bestowed upon a privileged few,
And setting high standards for generations that will ensue!
From time immemorial through the present generation,
Brave men and women were led by Sergeants with dedication.
Dreadful loss of life and limb was, alas, sustained,
To ensure that our precious liberties were maintained!
I'm a proud member of this elite fraternity and brotherhood,
Ever marching arm in arm for the nation's common good.
Molding young patriots to defend our glorious heritage.
All serving this great nation with indomitable courage!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Beneath the ancient willow, where tender shadows play,
A symphony of whispers, in the breeze, softly sway.
Leaves, like gentle harp strings, caress the passing wind,
Creating melodies that speak of where they've been.
The branches tell tales of yesteryears, in their graceful descent,
Of seasons passed in elegance, and moments sweetly spent.
The roots, entwined with earth and time, anchor stories deep,
Securing the memories, in a timeless, subterranean keep.
Sunlight filters through the foliage, in a dappled, dancing light,
Caressing every whispering leaf, with touches soft and bright.
A sanctuary of serenity, where the quiet does converse,
The willow sings in gentle tones, a calming, verdant verse.
Beneath its ample, swaying boughs, a peaceful soul might find,
A space to converse with silent thoughts, in the chambers of the mind.
For in every tender rustle, and in each bending limb,
There’s an echo of eternal calm, that sings a nature hymn.
In this hallowed, tranquil garden, where the whispering willows dance,
May we find a moment’s refuge, and give thoughts a gentle chance.
To connect with ancient rhythms, that through every vein does course,
And find ourselves anew again, in nature’s silent source.
In the waltz of the willow whispers, where time does gently tread,
Let’s weave ourselves into the tapestry, where countless souls have bled.
And find unity in the quiet, beneath the willow’s gentle sway,
Entwining with the timeless dance, in a deeply sacred way.
The Frozen Turkey Incident
(Absolutely True Story)
One day whilst shopping in a Superstore
I saw a man bending over his basket on the floor.
Then a child took a frozen turkey from the freezer trough
Which, being too heavy for him, as he held it aloft,
Let it slip from his grasp, striking the man on his crown,
Who, from the blow, fell to the ground.
As he lay, stunned with surprise and very sore
The child fled and left the turkey on the floor.
A store worker then came along and was most perplexed
To see a frozen turkey and a man most vexed.
And the man, not having seen the turkey fall,
Had no idea what had caused his fall.
Then his wife came and there she found
Her husband and the turkey on the ground………..
At which point I thought I ought to explain what had happened and stayed until he had recovered. The couple left with the turkey and, presumably, he ate it later.
Barry Stebbings
29/07/2016
Old man,bending over,
arched like a fallen moon
in a dark lilac November sky.
joy and pain wrestle my heart across the emptiness
and toss it up like a damp rocket
to fall in a hidden corner where mice live.
Would that not be a good ending,to be dust
to these little creatures nesting
in my chewed green twine and my tartan basket?
They have eyes and shiver in my hand when I rescue them
from the cat…
as any heart might.
Now night falls on the newspaper basket
where the damp Times and the Guardian mix into glue
and tomorrow the sun will rise
and it will just be the garbage
with no poetic undertones nor deathly hushes..
Heather and a silver light
you stand on a hill top like a god
looking over his domain.
Strong and now weak
it’s the humane condition
Everlasting life is too dangerous for humans.
Silent,motionless,home of beetles
bit by bit we fall away
into the mother soil
with cracked jugs and dropped coins
for a future academic to dig into.
Transparent hand touches me.
Whose might it be but yours?
Liv`s lilies
bending toward the sun
throws colors all over the garden
Not a cloud obscured the sky ...
A simple touch
Upright in honor
I could hear them sigh
If gorgeous colors are going astray
... you can find them here
along the road with roads
18/07/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(Liv - a Norwegian woman's name)
You are the conqueror, you always conquer
on your fingernail seats the victory home
in your head dwells all tactics
for halting
for bending
for cutting
for slaying the truthful mouth
yes, with lies the power
you can do
you can undo
a giant lion that shuts
lion in the glade
a giant prey that makes
prey walk on the ground
when its hover above the earth
a giant fish they runs fish a distance length
yes, you can do
you can undo
what you step upon none dare moves close it.
you are a evil yourself
evil is you himself
what suffers others laughs you hysterically
you the fear that fears the fear
you the fear that fears yourself
who dare faces you and says you do right none
perhaps one that wants to lick the cup of life
one that wants to live beneath the soil
'I winder
do you at times wonder
I am really the conqueror'
'yes'
do you do and say I have done?
do you publicize your scheme?
do you kill and say I have killed?
can you kill truth in people's heart?
who is the conqueror?