Long Blend Poems
Long Blend Poems. Below are the most popular long Blend by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blend poems by poem length and keyword.
Armor of a paladin
I write from the heart
ink dipped, Time to start
now let me sketch you a tropical blend
Swords seek to cut me
they find empty glory
assailants out of energy
elegant are my stories
Learning from wise men
forever I am learning
my yearning, keeps fire burning
a thought process that's ever turning
Pens sharp enough to slay evil pharaohs
melody of a masterpiece flowing through the wind
shooting them down like I'm using elven arrows
darkening the sky and shading their skin
ink splattered by my pen
Passion that outshines mermaids fins
still I'm mixing a tropical blend
now its time to begin
I'm going to pamper this poem as if I'm a mother hen
Studying the philosophy of art, requires concentration
Bruce Lee is my inspiration
silent as I hark, "be water" he said
empty your cup for optimal education
Fist of the northern star
barrage of a thousand pens
the dragon strikes again
now we near our journeys end
no weapons needed, mightier is my pen
Tapestry of Life**
In the intricate tapestry of life, vibrant memories weave their threads, each one shimmering with its own hue. The echoes of past workplaces linger like faint, nostalgic perfume, evoking a bittersweet blend of longing and relief. Seacrest, with its relentless morning shifts and haunting graveyard hours, etched an indelible mark on my soul—a complicated cocktail of disdain and wistful nostalgia. The stench of those long hours, both literal and metaphorical, clings stubbornly to the corridors of my memory like an unwelcome ghost.
Retirement feels like stepping away from a chaotic dance into a tranquil oasis, a serene pond that promises solace after years of turmoil. But as I bask in this newfound peace, self-reflection creeps in uninvited, urging me to take stock of the years lost in an institution where the pursuit of money overshadowed the pursuit of passion. What good remains from that chapter? The ledger of my life seems eerily blank, with joy elusively out of reach.
At sixty, my sanity becomes both a prayer and a quest. A few screws might be loose, but it has yet to shake the foundation of my understanding in a world that often feels absurd. Kindness flows within me, a gentle current that softens the harsh edges of life, yet I am acutely aware that this vulnerability can be both a strength and a weakness in a world that often thrives on sharpness and sting.
And you, a familiar presence, serve as a gentle reminder: “This path, tread cautiously.” In my next life, I envision myself as a poet—a genuine artisan of words, successful and unwavering. A master tinker skillfully weaving language into magical creations that inspire and enlighten. A philosopher delving into the depths of existence, unraveling the mysteries that surround us.
But for now, I embody Annie—the devoted content creator, the nurturing mother, the steadfast friend. And perhaps, in this role, I find that it is enough.
Dictated by the times, I guess,
my youthful dreams would stretch
in stories and imaginings of simple black and white
where heroes and villains stole away the sleep of night.
Those transparent years seemed less aware
of all the efforts in life's translucent fair.
Those were the days of hued monochrome vision
when questions rose in every darkly tinged decision.
Today with colors blended beyond the prime
black and white dreams would be toned a crime
and a myriad of vivid color lay on the artist's palette.
So the colors tend to meld and blend in dreamy flight
as if the sun and moon gave a shaded brilliant light
to the beauty of the mix dyed blushed delight.
Do you dream in color?
Are your nightly escapes dark and shadowed by the drapes?
Fall deep asleep in gold and green discolored fields
with all of your blood and beating heart to yield
to the wonders and the magic once absent
of life colored in its mysterious pageant.
WHEN THE TIME COMES TAI
Time is timeless as it floats gently in impermanence
pasts presents and futures blend inter-mingle wave
it’s rapture’s melodies and pastel pastures lush and
luscious rhyming contrast complementing contradiction
When you pass on you wish to travel to the sound of
‘I am the Goddess of hellfire’ as we stream and gleam
in an unconventional concept of passion and heaven
You chose that every one must wear cotton of tie-dye
showing the colours shadows and exuberance of life
For now we permeate and melt our lover’s lava halting
in the many moments sparkling fire works togetherness
When my time comes Tai I wish to die in your arms
after making love for eternity peacefully collapsed
and snuggled to your kindness and compassion your
fairy telling wings and roots your fragrance of beauty
Trusting transscendence the moon and the spoon
touching feeling intuiting engulfing our river’s spray
our wedded rings clicking love infinity one more time
before passing you and I one final time crescendo
into a different sanctum transiting longevity I wish you
to take my ashes to the highest mountain of memories
When the time comes Tai and only then I hope to die
in your arms and your presence’s present and only then
together in the spirit of love the moment and the time
12 July 2016
Along with cadent rhythms of the day,
night crawlers hum like bees around a hive.
Black shadows stretching longer, curve and blend,
to splinter into shards below the bend
Earth swivels axis arms to catch the sun,
and reaches through the depths of sheer chiffon
In languid dusk, a moment we can trust,
to know it will return another day
The sky creates a rim embossed with gold
colliding where cloth staples red to gray
beyond the shade that drapes across the hills
with purple stardust heavens will unfold
But now is time to let light drift away
Our world with weary voice must say so long,
With great anticipation, heads will rest,
tonight when all the tasks are said and done
________________________________________________
Entered in Contest:
'PREMIERE CONTEST NO 145,ANY FORM OR NONE,ANY THEME,UPTO A MAX OF 20 lines' Sponsor Brian Strand
Run fast my son
And always stand tall
Seems were not welcome here
Were not welcome here at all
Run faster my son
Its time you must be strong
For we have to sneak into America
They say we don't belong
Run fast my son
Amongst the crowd u'll blend
Don't draw attention to yourself
Americas not our friend
Run fast my son
Lets leave this place
Were not welcome here
Were not the right race
Run faster my son
Now their right on our trail
If were caught in America
Were going to jail
So run my young son
Run with all of your might
Were almost out of America
Their almost out of sight
Rest now my young son
We've left the United States
Rest well my son and Im sorry
For taking you to America,where everybody hates
PALLANES
Form:
A little bird told me today
It's the birthday of dear Bobby May
I'd so love to buy
A cake for this guy
To wish him a Happy Birthday
Jan Allison
A sweeter or nicer person there could not be,
He means so much to everyone including you and me,
A genuine, sincere bro. that's for sure
Happy Birthday dear friend Bobby your
Day I hope was spectacular, cheers with my cuppa tea
Written By JENNIFER PROXENOS
Today is the Birthday of Bobby May
Sending a virtual greeting his way
He is such a good friend,
Our ink is a sweet blend,
I wish all his wishes come true today
Written by Alexis Y
Well Bobby I've just heard its your birthday
I hope that today it all goes your way
With lots of good cheer
And maybe some beer
Happy birthday from me in the UK.
Written by Tom Cunningham
Two years now, almost to the day
He posted "The Mistletoe", yay!
Now 12 pages have we
Of his fine poetry
We salute you today, Bobby May!
Written by John Watt
'Let my pen be my sword', cried Bob May
'There's some dragons that I want to slay'
He writes poems by the score
Yet his fans demand more
And they all wish him 'Happy Birthday'.
Written by Bill Brook
Happy birthday to you Bobby May
Best of wishes coming your way
For loads of treats
Plenty to eat
All is allowed on your special day.
Belle Bellevue
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOBBY MAY
SOUPER'S PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME A LIMERICK TO ADD TO MY POEM
11/16/20
Separation from God, pain’s cause
Clear truth dawns, when thoughts put on pause
Behold delusion bubble burst
Hermit, that that dies, never was
Day by day, for God grows our thirst
Pure heart’s longing is unrehearsed
Soul yearns for bliss that dies not end
In stream of joy, fully immersed
The aspect that seeks to ascend
Mind-body, will to God does bend
Negating each fear and desire
Beholds consciousness, with love blend
Save God’s touch, what’s there to aspire
Ego’s slowly burnt in the fire
In timeless time, we vaporise
Love drenched in bliss mists, we retire
18-July-2022
After she left, they said she was a complicated and mysterious soul,
She had secrets hidden in the corners of her mind, shadows she never revealed;
Her gaze never matched the smile that seemed painted on her face,
She wrote words no one read, lost in time and space,
Cried silently in bathrooms, with the faucet running, hiding her tears,
She dreamed of becoming a woman no one would try to fix or change.
But the world didn’t want that, it sought something else, a face easier to decipher,
The world wanted subtlety, sensuality, a presence that would disrupt the silence,
So she played the role, dressed in the cloak of appearances society demanded,
Until someone fell in love with the mask and killed the girl hidden beneath.
In the depths of the soul, where dreams and reality blend like a river of shadows,
She remains, an echo of a world that never understood her complexity,
A soul floating among the stars, seeking its place in the boundless universe,
Her memory remains a symbol of the misunderstood, of those who dream beyond.
Blessed to have the love of such sweet souls
Here at this gathering of friends
There aren't too many sites around quite like this
Love and writing, a true blend
So many genuine friends here on The Soup
With such loving hearts so large
To trust these people with guarding my soul
I'd never had to think very hard
We as a group could show this old world
That true love is the reason for life
It's why we were created, why we were born
Cost of war is a real heavy price
They should listen to us, the poets of the world
We don't have all of the answers
But I'm sure we could surely do a better job
Than this bunch of murderous asses
© Jack Ellison 2013