Long Bittersweet Poems

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


Premium Member Larissa Laluna

The sun was sporting a radiant yellow,
with headlong pause, upon entering her space.
Tanned and serene, cheered by warm fellow,
Larissa’s slightly demure, emanating grace,
framed in the joyful shine of bittersweet tangelo.

Sungaze tints her bucolic gown, each thread,
a xanthous treat in the field of convergent reap.
The stipple wheat, its ocean of resonant red,
veils her pretty feet, as the sun gently falls asleep.
Autumn stumbles out, as Summer slips into bed.

Larissa Laluna with short crop of hair, breathes
in cooling air, the moon playfully turns her white.
The baby’s breath and roses, her sallow wreaths.
A figurine of snow, softly pirouetting at twilight.
Hope’s found in indulgent seasons she unsheathes.

Tapping on her bare shoulder, a yellow rush,
while pastel tulips color the lady’s countenance.
The bounty of seasons, Larissa’s paragon-blush.
The harvest moon, the gypsy’s discountenance
of rivers of green, blue sky, and a sunny paintbrush.

10/4/2021
Emile Pinet’s Quintain (Sicilian) Poetry Contest

HMS


Odd Lovers

"Odd Lovers"



I feel your reign o’er my warm skin
your eyes cast their burning cerebral majesty
sharp diamonds cool blue sky twinning rays 
the same time dawn and dusk glistening towards me
like the rapturous Sun in debate with boiling Ocean

I am Queen’s Land, nubile and unconquered
a spent sugar cane field arrested in your glowing fire
laid out like a Sunday service gone wrong and come undone
taken up like a god’s bride eager to please and smiling
in your riotous crackling laughter, some kindness, this untamed desire

jade green ignites into crystalline
I am all the wild animals
running ruinous out into open and now seen 
hear my wanton cries 
uncovered in soft spun blankets of dark night

I am the Moon glowing opallious and high-pearled
rising to meet your fevered and hungry molten lava kiss
drowning in waves of some scorching small death redemption
I bite eagerly with wet lips your brief eclipse
there is the taste of bittersweet candy

slowly mulled and fermented like fine mead 
honey drunk deliberate and heady
for a short story time goes slowly 
there is the taste of fire in the sharing of a missed moment
merging dimensions in fragile silky gossamer webbed dreams

I bite eagerly with wet lips your brief eclipse
there is the taste of bittersweet candy

made from our odd lover’s kiss

(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)



"Moon and Moon" (Two Suns) / Bat for Lashes
https://youtu.be/hMzua0mwrVk








LYRICS/"Moon and Moon" (Two Suns) / Bat for Lashes
https://genius.com/Bat-for-lashes-moon-and-moon-lyrics

Premium Member In the labyrinth of shadows, within the night of my soul

In the labyrinth of shadows, within the night of my soul,
I merge with the chaos that once found me, braided together.
Every fragment of soul I had the chance to communicate with,
Every skin I was lucky enough to brush past,
All these have crafted who I am, a reminder of what I’ve gained
And what I’ve lost along the way.
I am still in pieces, remnants of my memories upheld in the bygones.
I remain the person I was years back,
When I lost sight of who I was supposed to be.
I fail and trip, only to land in the loops of my braids,
Only to start it once more.
In the stream of my consciousness, thoughts entwine like threads of an ancient tapestry,
Memories painted on the canvas of time, each thread a story,
Every touch, every glance, an echo of the past,
An endless puzzle of moments lost and found.
Shadows dance in the corners of my mind, like delicate phantoms,
Reminding me of forgotten smiles, of shattered dreams,
Of battles fought in silence, in the depths of my heart,
An invisible but constant war, between what was and what is.
I cling to each fragment, to every remnant of my memories,
Like anchors in the tumultuous sea of my existence,
Trying to find balance, a peace amidst the chaos,
Yet always returning to the starting point, in the loops of my braids.
I am part of the chaos, of that bittersweet confusion,
That has shaped me, broken me, and remade me,
A mosaic of emotions, experiences, and dreams,
Braided into the tapestry of my soul.
And even if I feel lost, wandering in the labyrinth of shadows,
I know that somewhere, among the intertwined threads, there is a path,
A light flickering timidly, a fragile hope,
That will guide my steps to a new beginning,
To a new story, woven from the threads of my soul.
In this stream of thoughts, I lose and find myself,
Trying to understand the chaos, to embrace the melancholy,
Knowing that each fragment, each piece of me,
Is a part of my story, of who I am and who I will become.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

UNTITLED

Wen all is said  and done !!
Listen the voice of silence ??

As the truth turns into illusion 
And our life a bittersweet lie 
Our emotions a distorted smile
Of nothing but wasted year 
That have been washed away
 by the sands of time
 
Listen to the voice of silence 
As Humanity embraces its inner beast 
Stick and stone my broke my bones 
But words kill 

You see the devil will give you so much 
Love he will infect With so much affection that you would want to spend 
The last  day in hell
 In a world were purpose is forgotten
We're a man seeks Fame , rather than a good name 
We're the is no shame in the process
As long as you get the proceed the end justifies the needs
We have been trained in the art of deceit
We nolonger know how to stand for the truth

Even in death we never speak the truth 
I think that's the reason on the grave it's written here He/she liars 

We leave in a world were our dreams will find you sleeping planting the hopes our tomorrow
In death beds 

Life seems like a prison

Premium Member Fathers Day

Forever, I will recall father reading me a story at bedtime.
And taking my hand as we wandered in nature together.
The park bench where we sat talking is still there.
Hours I would sit watching him in his workshop-  his tea gone cold. 
Every child should have a father like mine to honor on Fathers Day.
Remembering dad is bittersweet for now I bring flowers to his stone.
Soft whispers in my dreams bring me back to days of joy.

Days of exploring and listening to his teachings and all his quotes.
And dad, I understand them now-   they all make sense at last.
Yesterdays are gone but my father dwells within my heart.

____________________
May 17, 2021


Poetry/Acrostic/FATHERS DAY
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1356-362-17
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France

For the Premier contest, A Tribute to Fathers
sponsor, L Milton Hankins, Judged 06/02/2021

Fourth Place
Form: Acrostic


When the Pictures Stop

Each one holds a  bittersweet memory
Of a beautiful part of my past
Who'd of thought when those pictures all came down
That those framed in emotions would last

When the pictures stopped
My world fell apart
Each uncaptured emotion....runs cold
I guess I'll find out in time
If the fault was all mine
And those pictures
Are a part of my soul

I shutter to think all that we've missed
Are you picturing somebody new
I'm sure you'll fade in time
But for now your still mine
So cut me out
And I'll know that we're through

When the pictures stopped 
My world fell apart
Each uncaptured emotion...ran cold
Now I'm finding out with time
That the fault wasn't mine
But those pictures
Remain in my soul

The dust outlines the heartache
Where those love filled pictures once stood
Each memory a flash
Of times we can't get back

Yet those pictures
Remain in my soul

When the pictures stop.....
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Gold On the Pond

Photographs recapture moments, gold.  Faded now,
like the leaves that were left after north winds have gone
As I unfold those memories, ....I'm swept far from home,
where hours were measured by gold on the pond

There are bittersweet pictures that I've locked away
of picnics in summer, and crisp autumn days
Where a long winding trail would follow the sun
just before winter silenced the ground

    ...Under the moonlight water would glimmer
       I still remember the call of a loon
    ...Under the starlight, we watched the moon slide, 
       over the pond and the rippling tide

Now, there is only a dream tucked away
where the hours were measured by love that I've saved…
Photos may fade,…
but kept in my heart……is the gold I have known



_________________________________________________
6/27/17
Contest: On Golden Pond.  Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Written to the theme music of "On Golden Pond"
Form: Lyric

Premium Member I Wonder Why

Have you ever watched a loved one die
Only to look at the sky and wonder why
We're put on this world to live and thrive
And then die when we can no longer survive

It's a bittersweet moment to even open our eyes
Just to see their eyes closed and hear the cries
The cries that fuel nightmares and fear
Of the Grim Reaper's scythe taking what we hold dear

It's laughter and love that are our greatest wealth
As we dream of living long lives in good health
It's this world that's twisted and tormented and anguished
Because life is finite and death cannot be vanquished

And the pain of loss is felt every single day
In different ways, perhaps, but it never goes away
We watch the flowers bloom beneath the kiss of a Spring sun
With no place to go and nowhere to run

Born against our will we know the end will come
But we define worth by what we become
And the more people I lose the more I ask why
I had to look in their eyes knowing they'd die

Years and years of guilt crush me beneath the weight
And the tears brimming in my eyes mean I can't see straight
Days and days of loneliness turned a warm heart cold
As the grays become numerous it's clear I'm getting old

Even a gentle breeze is enough to make me freeze
I scream and shout and fall to my knees
Pleading with God to take away the pain
And the stain of sins that cut to the vein

I'm crippled by what could and should have been
And haunted by dreams of doing it all again
But worse is knowing I still have loved ones to lose
And no amount of booze can soothe the bruise

It's a curse to open my eyes knowing they will not
Because no matter how many times I'm taught
To move on I constantly look over my shoulder
At the burden I carry turning from a rock to a boulder

We're not put on this world to live and thrive
Because the name of the game is to simply survive
So the time will come to watch a loved one die
In stoic silence I'll watch and I'll wonder why

Premium Member Evaporating Seasons

Stardust blankets lacrimosa skies,
a requiem of times gone by.
The taste of late summer nights still lingers on bittersweet lips,
yet somehow, now, it’s become stale—like blue cheese and old pickles.
A crisp breeze cascades from the north,
ushering in the dawn of autumn.

Vivid memories begin to fade from lucidity.
Crystal droplets fall from despondent eyes,
puddling around forsaken feet.
Swimming in grief, struggling to breathe,
I begin drowning in agonized anguish.
Reaching out for you, my fingers crumble within my grasp,
for ghosts can’t pull you from the plunge.

As emotions overwhelm with every heartbeat,
I sink further into this beckoning night,
my soul crashing under increasing pressure.
Flickering recollections fade in and out of view—
hypoxic, flesh turning blue.
Muscles tighten, flinch.
Clenching my chest, cardiac arrest imminent,
for your untimely demise was my fatality.
© Sara Jama  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Echoes In a Dirge

They are all gone, long gone,
Crossed beyond the great
 Rubicon
Yet echoes of their names comes
 and goes like a beacon.

Imagination playing on my senses
I am ready to accept the unreal
Dumping the surreal events deeply
 buried,
In memory crevices that don't 
 breakdown.

Echoes of a dirge refusing to fade
 away;
Thrusts from the past to the present 
 as in a cascade
All playing on my imagination's
 facade.

Voids so deep, time lingering 
 to have its fill.
Past and presenting a mix of
 bittersweet thrill

Lamentations ever persistent none
 to succour.
A daily scourging of the present living
 none to favour

Transition of my friends the hereafter 
 on my mind.
A thin line between the great divide,
 a Rubicon to find
Echoes in a Dirge.
(Written 16th January, 2016)
Form: Elegy

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