Long Blueish Poems
Long Blueish Poems. Below are the most popular long Blueish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blueish poems by poem length and keyword.
All my life I had to fight... this fight... this fight... for right of life.
Those that give me the most strife are those claiming to have the right.
Of course, I am different and from another time and place;
Yet still, I’m inclined to be of human race.
At the store in line at the front.
They pay me no mind, not even ask what I want.
They Pretend they're unaware; of me clearly standing there.
Then the stares and silly grins and acting as if I speak alien;
thrice repeating my needs again. Got me wondering what world I'm in.
As I leave, their smirks incite; any doings did in smite.
To be offensive in clear sight. For Ignorance is a foolish rite
This fight... this fight... for right-of-life; keeps me hyped to pull my knife.
I twirl to face these rude affairs. But Away they turn and put on airs.
Then thoughts in my head go ecliptic
~~~This eternal brawl of life is epic__
~~~rising up before you crawl is hectic__
~~~The venom spit at you goes septic__
~~~Your spirit dies and becomes decrepit__
~~~Your day is done and it's not poetic.
~~~So, clear your head. Be more authentic.
Think! Will this be the day; you give your wealth away?
~~~As precious as the moments be;
~~~why waste it all so suddenly?
~~~ on the waning minuscule few?
~~~Don't you have better things to do?
Halt! I heed not your scorn of me, for I am what I was born to be.
I say to you here. I say to you now; loudly so you all can hear.
Be ye warned thy seed ye spew will sprout a tree.
At its root, you may surprisingly see__
someone there just like me.
All my life I had to fight... this fight... this fight... for right-of-life.
Those that give me the most strife are those claiming to have the right.
Of course, I am different and from another time and place;
Yet still, I'm inclined to be of-human-race.
Eh... so I'm a little bit out-the-norm... so what... haven't you heard of...
the little green men, fairies, and unicorns? How about Aqua man? ....
Isn't he blueish- green? Ah, hah and there're people born with tails. ...
So, what I've got 3 eyes... they're all facing the same way...
In memory of the unacceptably lost to indifference
Sometimes, I wish, I simply wish, throughout the day
Musing, on a moonlit night soaked in a blueish essence
You and I, falling short of words. Silence, gone astray
Pastime of eternity, where hearts melt in a confluence
Sometimes, I wish, I simply wish, throughout the day.
Musing, on a moonlit night soaked in a blueish essence
You and I, falling short of words. Silence, gone astray
Pastime of eternity, where hearts melt in a confluence....
dense in emotions, ribbons wrapped in whims
A word or two, wander at times.
You will be mine, one walkway, under the shades of greeneries
You will touch one unmindful chime, rhyme, cascades of tunes
You and I, falling short of words. Silence, gone astray
Pastime of eternity, where hearts melt in a confluence....
If you are there, o muse, to splash once with your touch, gentle
I will cherish the moment, to plead, “Do, o thee, do!”,
once in an up roaring drizzle.
I am a traveler, stranger of your indifferent sacred temple
You and I, falling short of words. Silence, gone astray
Pastime of eternity, where hearts melt in a confluence
Sometimes, I wish, I simply wish, throughout the day.
Musing, on a moonlit night soaked in a blueish essence.
Acknowledgement : Bappa Mazumder
Bangladeshi singer.
"Ghost Orchid, Violet"
plumes of purple blue
like a burning bruise, spear through my mind
the heart waits for the fall Evermore
with open palms it’s bright core forever calls
the light is blinding like a Ghost
and it holds its fresh petalled orchid stretched out to me,
petals opening the folds of a mind’s ever present dream unfolding
from a shrouded poem, dark embers brightening, a small story glitters
the essence of roasted paper rises
clean and sharp it turns each guache passage
you can hear the pages flip nonchalantly
notes of ink lift the senses like a seductive perfume
plurals write their orchid meanings stretched
volatile pink yet vulnerable across the page
like a revolution violate turning slowly, then,
lights dim and flicker with terrible speed
plumes of purple blue, notes sing blue purple
like a bruise, spearing through my mind
piercing the heart that waits for its fall in strange accords
with open palms the bright core immersed in its evanescence calls
perceived at the shorter end
of the visible light spectrum
a shade of purple with a blueish hue
turns to you, stares you full on
the watchers behind their screens
sit and squander it all
they that think they know it all
bathed in virtuous better off than all
in the end Love
like a ghost orchid calls
like light for lost ships
from some distant shore
violet, it shines,
like the heart burning
its hot bright flame
that dream
that calls you further in
Candide Diderot. ‘25
God shrouded the universe in darkness.
Is there a human or divine side to blackness?
The young dictum's star shines brightly here.
I dream when I look at the stars with calmness.
Despite my utmost level of grief and fear,
In the glittering stardust of a blueish-light, clear.
Were we attracted to the bait or a star?
When I stroll to the beach dark sphere.
To clear the fog from my mental scar.
I savor observing the lighthouse's bizarre
Sky penetration and rivalry of a laser beam.
I reckon I view a gleaming star over a spar.
I designate this as my single-star dream.
I promise myself to you; my one-star to seem.
Boldly shown to gleam brightly in my soul
I hear each pulse of my heart as it streams.
Fathom a single star in the universe to the extol.
I agnize you are my only hope and condole.
One star I could view twinkling with delight.
I shed a tear on a magical night for that dole.
On my birth, you swept from skies with insight.
I'd crave for you to kiss me on my lone, starlit night.
Fear weaves into shapes, the elixir of love.
It focused our psyche life on earth on this site.
You are the light of hope, oh anchorite! Move.
A birth means God can heal us from above.
Guard each itinerary and decompose the ego.
Someone who gave the soul evidence of love.
Written: November 06, 2022
The Only Star For Me Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
"Even in a small space you can mimic a magical flowering
woodland with stepping stones and a variety of wildflowers."
Quote by _Constance
Willow Amsonia (Blue-Dogbane) is a wildflower_
In sun with some shade it will flourish, the
lush green fountain-like foliage so pretty, it
looks great as a background plant in a garden.
Oh, the flower clusters are dainty and divine,
with sweet blueish-purple blooms like stars !
And bushy clumps could be yours in a few years, wild in
meadows, just growing happy and free, and also
so delightful in marshes where the soil is wet, delightful
on Fall days when the foliage turns a sublime yellow. They are
never, ever, never bothered by insects of any kind,
in Spring they bloom- remove the withered ones for more blooms_
A lovely addition to any wildflower garden, in my opinion !
________________________
May 31, 2023
Poetry/Acrostic/Willow Amsonia
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1551-052-31
All Rights Reserved, 2023,Constance La France
i don't cower to death, he had me in his grasp
faltering through the sudor of illness
my heart beating slower than time's hands
like a worthless clock on the wall needing replaced
ashen flesh bore his mark, a kiss against my blueish lips
somehow missing his quarry, while i awaited my wings
he still abides in the dumping ground of memories
with promises broken, love unspoken, and heartless liars
in a dashboard of broken dreams long abandoned
that stalk my existence, awaiting to be restored
to recommence through the pathways of my mind
as more than just unused rusted out frames of thoughts
that only resurface in the outburst of downcast eyes
when the shadows of sorrow grapple my emotions
as he purloins another from existence before me
I don't cower to death, he had me in his grasp
the attrition of time has left me emotionless
unscathed by his touch yet numb beneath his kiss
through past's rear-views as i unwillingly await my wings
October 4, 2019
My Favorite Junkyard poetry contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
Bell-shaped English Bluebells
Violet face of lilac landscape
Charming tints of scarlet
Exuberance of Maple Red
Red, white, upright Tulips
Preening of vibrant spring
Whistling breath of wind
Kisses swaying Daffodils
Laden droplets refracting
Gleam of rose-petal gems
Bluebird’s pine-needle nest
Home of blueish green eggs
Crocus purple flowers
Amethyst glory of jewels
Scented Lilly of the Valley
Blooming white charmers
Rainbow colors of Hyacinth
Jewels glinting window sills
Spicy fragrant Dianthus
Apex of prized decorum
July 4, 2020
Placed 1st: Strand Completely New Poetry (5) Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand