Long Boldly Poems
Long Boldly Poems. Below are the most popular long Boldly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boldly poems by poem length and keyword.
May Mjölnir's might strengthen you.
May your thoughts flow from Runic streams.
May your chosen path feel miraculous,
And may the northern winds uplift you,
So that Yggdrasil fills you with kindness!
May Frigg ignite your divine visions!
May Freyja summon fertile dreams.
May Magical Mead pour freely from above,
Letting your courage lead to valorous action!
Walk the forest's path, where unique trees and flora thrive.
Listen to the wildlife 'round the trees.
Meet your inspirational animals,
And live boldly as one who ventures forth with courage,
Allowing the vines and flowers to entice you---
That they may be your good companions.
Look at the stars, look how they shine for you
And everything you do;
Yes it’s really true, in the realm of love,
Nothing else ever comes even close
When the moment is just right
And allure of your eyes enkindles paradise
Where face of the sky is enchanting blue
And the golden sun adorns sparkling dew
And upon every night smiles the doting moon.
Give me that moment, give me that look
And ride with me to the land of Elysium
Where blossoms of spring reign all seasons
And nary a cloud shrouds the horizon.
When evening arrives in colors of rainbow
And midnight rejoices astral celebration,
Look for my missive in moonlit orchestra
Decoding the language of sensuous stars.
Whisper to my heart your intimate response
Crooning in passion of romantic ballad—
Bashful in secrets of blushing meadows,
Enthralled in ambers of inflamed autumn.
Yes it’s really true, in the realm of love
Nothing else ever comes even close
When love speaks boldly without any words.
Look at the stars, look how they smile for you
Yes it’s really true, the stars always knew.
February 18, 2020
Poem of the day on February 20, 2020
Placed 1st: Famous poetic lines 3 – Love songs poetry contest
“Look at the stars, look how they shine for you
and everything you do” Coldplay, Song: Yellow
HM: Strand select Y contest by Brian Strand
A troubled man held a dark guarded secret
Deep in a closet of his mind for years on end
No one knew this hidden in his anxious soul
Expect a long-trusted confidant and close friend
But secrets are difficult to put under lock and key
It’s like putting a leash on the strongest hurricane
Secrets can break out as one who seeks to be free
Yet, constantly pursued and divined by the suspicious
A great fear lingers in a troubled fortified mind
Especially that of a guarded holder of the hidden
Will the secret ultimately break free and thusly find
Itching ears that belong to the malicious and evil kind
It’s sad when the secret is stripped of shelter and cover
By a confidant and friend who proves guilty of vile abuse
For whom else could make one’s soul cringe and shudder
When by a trusted one the secret is unclothed and laid bare
Secrets are vulnerable to one’s inner weaknesses
And the ambitions of those of devious minds and nefarious goals
Those who desire to be spotlighted on the world’s stage
Boldly telling the secrets of a friend sworn to be untold
Gains from such misuse of relational trust can offer fame
May grease the palms of those who develop such evil schemes
But the yields are hard to justify or condone what’s been done
When the curtain of life comes down on an exposed and destroyed soul
Poetic and not lyrical, that's the circle of life and it's not spherical
Round and round and round it goes but the stop is one that no one knows
It's up and down and in and out, self confidence tinged with self doubt
It's fallin' in and fallin' out, line up to see what it's all about
Just to find out that it's not empirical
Now when I set out to plot life's course, I bet on ev'ry pretty horse
And, of course, they bucked and bridled
Til I found the seat of knowledge, intolerance and college
Was where I could not find it with both hands
So I hit the road and pondered and I jumped up and I wandered
Til I found the winding road leads not into the promised land
I sat down to enjoy a meal of humble pie and cock-eyed crow
Stuck my dampened finger in the air to find an ill wind's bound to blow
And show what we all come to know, that when it comes your time to go
You still won't understand
Whether linear or peripatetic, circumspect or sympathetic
Lyrical and/or poetic, your line is fine if it's kinetic
Stasis is a work of art, but what moves in somebody's heart
Is what it took to make the part that got you where you are
That doesn't mean to rest assured, cause what ails you is someone's cure
Your vision's clear, the lines are blurred
So strike out boldly undeterred, knowing that it's just a word
That got you where you are
It's not the end that turns the herd, cause what it is often overheard
Is often under wrought
It's overdone and underthought, underwhelming, overbought
It did catch on but now it's caught up in its own undoing
She associated awe with unvoiced age.
Her son often enthused
about awesome tech-paced change,
empowering opportunity,
but, for her,
youth is an age for voicing wonder
as elders remember awesome quiet connection
back with memoried Time.
She found elder awe memories,
structures,
originating imprints,
in trees from humble
yet awesome nuts and seeds,
formed back in timeless forests
Where nutritional root systems
meet yang-strong trunks,
boldly growing toward sunlight,
flirting quietly with moonlight's fertility
starring light shining our way
from how many awesome staring years ago?
Now enlightening her empowered wonder
about this sensory sexiness
of trunks on root systems
so old she can't quite recall
How could time carve hoary beds
with rivers of resilient water
flowing down Time's journey
from wondrously young
toward awesome complex landscapes
of connection
re-connection
volition
revolution
solution
resolution
passion
co-passionate secular communication,
sacred communion.
Maybe if she goes on wondrous line
and writes about these awesome Times
they will become both more musically beautiful
and reconstructed true,
More passionately ageing together
with respect for Earth's revolving
gorgeous flowing wisdom
and joy for multi-sectored
strong true handsome.
Boldly, the hellions appeared.
Riding in one-by-one pointing accusing fingers.
Out of the eerie darkness they rode,
as if from the depths of an abyss, they came.
The first offered a toxic libation.
Lethal words ranted like a preacher
hurled like fire and brimstone.
A tenebrous warning as time runs out...
"Mothers keep your children at your knee.
Soon the world will dwell in misery!"
The next rider arrived as if from Hell.
Tongues of fire from sea and sand
claiming to do the Piper's bidding.
Another poisonous drink he poured
with the message that leaders lie.
'Do not defy Hell's commands!"
They come on wheels of Dharma
from the Darkside of Aquarius,
breathing fire across the world
that no amount of water can douse.
Without hesitation, the third rider appeared,
invading peaceful dreams of some
that turned into morbid nightmares,
and the stark reality that his mission
was the submission of men to kill their brothers.
Rider four from hell patiently waited his turn
then said wars were games of religious fools.
His words scared superstitions minds
a tool he used when his tongue was on an acid trip.
They come on wheels of Dharma
from the Darkside of Aquarius,
breathing fire across the world
that no amount of water can douse.
Time is running out to save minds and souls.
Hellriders arrived ahead of the silver surfer.
The wheel will keep moving round and round
until in the end, the truth unfolds.
Based on the Bruce Dickinson song Darkside of Aquarius.
Written: February 25, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a scene of singing sunlight.
They claim it blurs our sight.
Shall we dare gaze at the sky?
Through dread, the stars fly.
Stoking in a vacuum sway
Beaming banners blare boldly.
A pair of piranhas are plunging.
It is superb, grasping a bright shine.
Love's charm—how do you draw it in?
It makes the task of daring thrilling.
In my fearful forest, I fight forth.
As eyes fry with frantic flutters.
In this twisted yearning, I abhor.
Yet, embrace insight with ease.
Never linger in distress.
Pondering peace without being alone.
Under a moonlit night's shadow.
Thaw flows glide as strings in a ballet.
Words crumble amid stillness.
Fighting a flourishing fear.
Behind your silent mind.
Mute menial mutters manifested.
Crashing curtains once.
Craving to roam free despite caution.
Stripped yet surged by Sibylline.
Serious sunlight speculation.
It could be aggressive and harsh.
Life is devoured without a swash.
It all started with a raw sheet.
As dunes, our tales might alter.
A dichotomy of bravery and intimacy.
In life's transient elixir
Time sands and heroic melodies.
We weave our myths.
with untamed minds and brave hearts.
The sun burns our fragile vision.
Stars glide through the darkness of night.
A sea of absence in their bright blaze.
Intense and vivid as a crocodile swarm.
Love and strength are a delightful test.
In my dark woods, I stand firm.
Yet your eyes wiggle with fever.
Stirring a desire I loathe but crave.
Predicting, a glove well-woven.
I don it with hope and dread.
Suffering from a wild yearning agony.
Serving solace sans seclusion.
Twists of gloom below the moon.
When wind waltzes with woolen wires.
Words wobble with weight of wrath.
Silence deters us from soaring upward.
And decry your vacuous diction
Awaiting unfurled sheets.
So anxious to be heard and set free.
The draperies previously yielded.
Fetching for freedom to flourish.
No more waiting for a cue,
I step into the spotlight, the script unwritten but mine, the hero of my own unfolding story.
The plot twists are mine to navigate, the victories mine to celebrate. When doubt knocks, I answer with courage; when fear whispers, I roar with resolve. My story is vibrant, raw, and relentlessly mine.
So watch me rise, watch me write, watch me live fully—because this is my tale, told boldly and beautifully, every step a declaration: I am the main character of my life.
I hold the pen; I craft the narrative that defines who I am.
I make is a verse in my poem, every step a line in my script. The plot twists? I write them
This story is mine to own—no extras, no understudies. I speak loud, act bold, and live with purpose because being the main character means walking forward with courage, carving my path with confidence.
I am more than just a player in life’s theater—I am the author, director, and hero all at once. This is my story, and I’m ready to live it fiercely, unapologetically, and authentically.
Beloved souls, hear me as I speak, thus is my life, a hymn of compassion, an eternal psalm of love.
I walked amongst the lowly not with pity but with understanding, for in their suffering, I saw the seeds of the divine. To the broken, I once was a healer.
To the outcast such am I, I to them was a friend.
In my wandering I spoke to the lowliest of the low, not with the weight of condescension, but with compassion of our shared humanity.
My heart beats with empathy for the poor, the wounded, and the forgotten. I turned my gaze to women, not as lesser beings but as equals, with spirits as radiant as the stars.
To the Samaritan woman at the well, I offered the water of my life; to Mary Magdalene, redemption and love.
I see not your labels but your hearts, and through them, I have revealed that the soul has no rank or measure in the kingdom of heaven.
I walked into courthouses and knew indignity, my anger kindled against the corruption that sullied the just.
For I knew that worship without justice is an empty offering, and love without action is a withered vine.
My hands, calloused from state slavery, lifted the fallen and gave up knowledge to the hungry.
to them my voice, was gentle yet firm, and I call for a love that burns brighter than gold and a faith that stands stronger than the mountain that once was moved.
I know that the pain of life and the shadow of death, yet I have embraced both with open arms.
For in This life, I have taught you to live boldly, to love freely.
In my coming death, to you there is hope eternally, to rise again anew.
So, let us learn to speak, not with hurtful words, but with empathetic deeds that bloom from the garden of our hearts, tending to the lowly, the forgotten, and to love each other.
Amen.
Candid and fully exposed as the theatre’s light dims
She stands poised, dauntless disciplined and statuesque
A stance both stalwart and defiant yet supple are her limbs
Mango hued flower, shoulder's thrown back thrusting her breast
He sits rapped by intrigue as he studies her movement
A silver fox and raven mane is neatly brushed regally back
To beautify him further would take divine improvement
Only to be bathed in her impassioned embrace does he lack
Swirls of sangria red fabric charge like El toro spark undulating trails
Laced in pearly white with azure blue print mesmerize and highlight
And flow about her generous hips in a rage of billowing canvas sails
Flamenco dancers firm legs are revealed in fish nets that boldly invite
Whilst her furtive glimpse ignites his cavalier bon vivant smile
She bewiles with onyx eyes that glisten and fingers splayed for effect
He connects in a flash with a performers come hither guile
Upon times eternal river this fiery night's tryst they shall reflect