Long Bold Poems
Long Bold Poems. Below are the most popular long Bold by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bold poems by poem length and keyword.
In the velvet sky, a cosmic ballet unfolds,
The sun and moon in their dance so bold.
A solar eclipse, a celestial show,
A rare spectacle for all below.
The moon, a silent thief of light,
Steals the sun's radiance in the day's bright.
A shadow cast upon the land,
As darkness sweeps across the land.
Birds fall silent, creatures cower,
In the sudden shift of power.
The world holds its breath in awe,
As the sun and moon align in perfect draw.
A moment of unity, of cosmic grace,
As the sun's fiery gaze is briefly replaced.
The sky darkens, a chill in the air,
The eclipse's beauty beyond compare.
And then, as quickly as it came,
The sun emerges, the moon's shadow wanes.
Daylight returns, the world aglow,
A memory of the eclipse, a sight to behold.
A solar eclipse, a fleeting sight,
A reminder of the universe's might.
In that moment of darkness and light,
We are humbled by the cosmic fight.
Shrilling seagulls spreading broad wings
are bound for another flight into infinity;
unlikely us who perceive fear and adversity,
they know how to conquer boundaries:
and as soon as daybreak begins, they don't wait
but venture further than hazy horizons
with a straight line that guides navigators
on their trail until they vanish from limited sight.
Was Columbus or Vespucci more fearless than bold seagulls?
Didn't they defy storms and pushed forward to match their grit?
Their zest for discovery never threw them into irrational wit;
they goal was to project a vison and turn it into daydreams.
Had there been voluptuous women to weaken their quest,
there would have been none to behold other than deep regret;
and unlikely us who fall for shallow desires and accomplish little:
we ignore seagulls and navigators that are brave and yet fragile.
Lighten my load
Make me a straight and narrow road
That my path may be righteous and clean
Whereby my heart will always be keen
To be at your side on every roller coaster ride
When I am up
Give me the cup
That will fill me right up
So when I am down
I won't fall all the way down
Because hope and your love will see me through
Send me your sword that I will be bold
Courageous and strong to face all wrong
When I am alone
Sadden and bored
Send me your shield to cover all my wounds
Till my heart is healed and all scares are gone
Y'Shua-Ha-Mashiach
Show me the way
Give me a way
Let me not delay
The plans you have made for me.
Deep in peaceful rest, lay I.
Not a hint of what would come by.
In my dreams chasing ludicrous fantasies
Seeking out endless possibilities.
But away, far and away, have I gone from there.
Far and away due to a stirring in the air.
Rousing from somnolent state I noticed but one thing…
What, in my unconscious adventures, for I had been searching.
Reach out! Take hold!
But I could not bring myself to be so bold.
Now I am awake, now I am alive.
And finally my restless soul needn’t wander.
In those eyes, yes those eyes, I see all I need to thrive.
And “should I love her?” is a thought I needn’t ponder.
“Give it all away and hold nothing back” screams my heart.
But what happens when everything falls apart?
Logic shouts, “slow and steady and the race may be won.
Besides what are the chances this is the one?”
“Tattered and torn, tattered and torn.
You have been there before,
And you know your heart is worn.”
Logic speaks from my core.
Flumadiddle flumadiddle they all sing together.
They make it difficult to determine whether,
Whether or not the risk is worth the payout.
And to determine if I have any doubt.
But then one concept sticks out to me.
Why? Why is what I should be answering.
Why I love her, let me list the reasons…
But that list is too long, and would last eternal seasons…
So not why, but why not?
One solid answer is all I need.
I have thought and have thought
And can’t find a single, doubtful seed.
“She is too strong headed and opinionated”
And that is what makes her beautiful.
“She is too organized, she’ll kill your chaos”
My Balance is what makes her wonderful.
She is passionate and pure,
Faithful and true.
There is little more I could ever want from you.
To the end of all things,
I don’t think I could bring,
This soul to ever wander when all I want is found in you.
A balance for my strengths,
A mind to sharpen mine,
A reason to always strive,
An equal finally by my side.
Lines in the smile
By-Dominique smith
365 days make a year, those days swear are sincere, you choke on your drink at joke you just made caught you off guard. It would really make you think, would those 365 days be hard to break? While youre on the brink of tears the world still rotates. Holding your stomcah as throw your head back to catch your breath. Some tell you that each day is new start, but thats a saying thats just a few seconds of relief as they turn their heads back to their problems. You chuckle with a grin and even then you know that the relief is of no belief.
Cold hands offer a wide range of solutions but non of any resolutions, Surprises come due to your ability to swayed time, youre happy and healthy thats the way to be in your mind. You're doing great breathing in oxygen and exhaling your problems, Crack your knuckles and have a Cuban shuffle. The light of the sun touches your face, the honor of the wind is painting your skin, Nails on, hair done and worries gone. Be still youre bearing over the chastised heap of those who stood before you, Youre at your own peak of your mountain dont lose your altitude. You've done step one and youve got your prize, take a picture and look sterilized.
Your aura is cleaned and solid, anyone looks at you theyd be able see how stacked you are with not just your wallet. The life youre giving you did not ask for but you will make it your own and known as one of those who can bring light forth. Two tones take your soul the one side is bold and the other is your backbone. A cold steel rod is placed in your back, you stand up straight no one can break your stance it is yours to enhance. Youve gone to places that are worth wild, you've seen things that made you feel like you've walked 100 miles and the stories you tell to those who'll listen will believe your tales without trials because the proof is in the lines of your smile.
By chance, I found them, there...
Three pressed leaves, with brittle veins of delicacy
Tucked between the pages
Of a tattered book of poems
Overlooked and gathering dust,
A cover worn, with broken spine
It had your names, an autumn date,
With script inside, a faded time...
Caressed in yellowed tissue, these three from ancient trees
Discarded long ago from russet crowns
A memory, kept, of time, so keen,
Of a long ago, brisk autumn day?
Where leaves had fallen so bold and gay, then twirled on down
From breezes that gently made the Sycamores sway
A place you walked and held his hand, and knew forever your love would be
Perhaps beneath those trees you made a plan for me
When winter's chill and stolen years had not yet come
Where fragrance of fall and new young love was found
From soft carpets of scarlet, red and brown
You chose these three from all the rustling hordes that grew
A tree had finished using them, in remembrance of you
They were yours for awhile...for your love, perhaps a lover's bed
now....here in my hands they lay....
They are mine to to keep, pressed leaves,
To keep for now, close to my heart instead...
With acquired skills often very bold...
as a philosopher once foretold,
I write my essay on friendship, kind of brief,
not for my sake but for anyone without relief.
With the keenest mind I move this speedy hand,
to convince fools not to suppress the faith of a loyal friend,
to respect and honor his example of faithfulness;
neither they nor you could persuade me with some innocence!
I uphold the laws of goodness that no demon will upturn;
with watchfulness I conserve their divinity into a sacred urn,
evil voices chant when midnight gilds the cloudy moon in silver...
If phantoms approach it and dare to open it...I'll contest their fear!
I expediently will call upon the two Archangels with swords of fire,
to destroy with their vengeance what demons never admire;
they will chase them away until their shadow dissolves itself into the sunshine,
and proud of their victory: I'll revel in their joy and roar as the mighty lion!
If all enemies look down on me as someone not too wise, just and coherent...
their opinion has little effect on me...I come in peace, not in threat;
I am no dwarf and take all insults earnestly to multiply their woes with bitter words,
and when animosity arises from their chests, I'll grab them by their horns!
songer.co/song/xm7mr1l5mcksgt8pf2gmfpku
[Verse 1]
She said it was just a poem—
Left it trembling on the windowsill,
Ink still wet, like tears she never cried.
But her naked vulnerability,
Unfolded like a secret too fragile to speak.
I felt the chill as the sun fell hard
Behind her silhouette—
Bare, distant, unknowable, a memory marred.
[Chorus]
Oh, how I miss her, the light in her eyes,
The laughter we shared now fades with the skies.
Fragments of us, like whispers of pain,
In the echoes of love, I still call her name.
[Verse 2]
The lake stared back like a noose,
Dragging sweet memories below its glassy skin
Until only fragments remained—
A flicker, a whisper,
A breath that recalled my name
As though it no longer belonged to me, it was strange.
[Chorus]
Oh, how I miss her, the light in her eyes,
The laughter we shared now fades with the skies.
Fragments of us, like whispers of pain,
In the echoes of love, I still call her name.
[Bridge]
Shattered glimpses, sharp as broken glass,
Litter the fog of where we’d been—
Chasing them barefoot, blood on the grass.
My voice, a wailing flute in the wind,
Grieving notes that once made music,
Once, we were a symphony, under its spell,
Now, silence swells, where we used to dwell.
[Verse 3]
I was your mountain—stoic and strong,
Scented like fresh rain, where you would belong.
You curled in my arms like a secret untold,
My eyes made you dream, wrapped in warmth bold.
Until midnight slipped through the window,
And you danced without my hand,
Without my name on your lips, feeling the flow.
[Chorus]
Oh, how I miss her, the light in her eyes,
The laughter we shared now fades with the skies.
Fragments of us, like whispers of pain,
In the echoes of love, I still call her name.
[Outro]
Oh, how I miss her—
A heartbeat that lingers in the shadows of time.
Each memory whispers, a bittersweet rhyme,
In the quiet of night, when the stars softly gleam,
I search for her face in the depths of a dream.
While you try to become the best version of yourself,
Insecurity infiltrates, an unbeaten foe that embraces confidence,
And you list potential falls before even stepping onto the open road.
Every deed is stitched with the thread of this somber foreboding.
Yet, if you know how each scar quietly whispers to you its own tale,
A story of how much it bled, how much pain there was when it was still a fresh wound.
And which bold paths you have taken toward healing, what battles you had to fight.
It's not easy to step out of the frame of your comfort, from your arches of safety.
But when the stars align, they conspire as if yearning to show you a universe
Where you are meant to shine – accept everything with grace, let chance follow its course.
For if you don't, the print of regrets will be one that will never fade.
To receive the stars and the threads of fate, even when they are entwined,
Even when fears seem swifter than your choices.
Gather all your scars, each a mark placed on the map of your own galaxy.
Leave from yourself a beacon, a lighthouse deep in the unknown to which you inevitably head.
On that glorious evening, don't sleep subtly.
Utterly, prime-age ought to portray a furious fire.
Rage for the waning daylight with ferocity.
Even if bold people realize the terrible dire.
Their tirades were drab due to a lack of bloom.
Utterly, prime-age ought to portray a furious fire.
An ultimate wave passed, awed by its gloom.
Their lamest act could be green bay dancing.
Their tirades were drab due to a lack of bloom.
Feral people sang to the sun while swooping.
Some claim they're bawling on the path too late.
Their lamest act could be green bay dancing.
Those on the verge of death due to a disease.
Eager eyes can shine as meteors even when blind.
Some claim they're bawling on the path too late.
And you: my dad, upon the bleak hillside.
On that glorious evening, don't sleep subtly.
Eyes can shine as meteors even when blind.
Rage for the waning daylight with ferocity.
Written: October 20, 2021