Long Braille Poems
Long Braille Poems. Below are the most popular long Braille by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Braille poems by poem length and keyword.
The soul is but a vast ocean of vigilance
Streaming with incresent colours towards life
Infinite within its parhelion possibilities
Relentlessly searching, betwixt the everflowing tides
Whereupon all things approach these providential probabilities
Of endlessly prolific visions thus beheld
Within the grasp of pristine pictures brushed and painted
Afore the overtures tubular bells; now sounding
Strewn, beneath the curatives silverish moon
Sirventes tunes, born, within fascinations bloom
These meant to be rhymes, amid Dorothy Gales times
Over somewheres prized amphoric rainbow
Arched imaginations, of fantasias floriferous creations
Breathing their pollinating light, within every breath that they breathe
Escaping the carcinogen caverns through torchbeared passages
Beyond the flesh rent falls and encumbering shawls
Carved crude, these animus meshed jackets
Encased within the chamber once laced
Unto broken bricks of concretes chained
Like Percivals plight....
Unmentioned between the lores, this wondering upon metaphoric shores
While barricaded by the calibrated stone engraved
Until antinomy could devise no more; yet
"If all we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream?"
Scream, and shatter these williwaws window panes
Awakening, beyond their oblique orbs of obscurities, void
To find 'The Holy Grail,' amid incarnadines blinding night
This veil removed, as clarity becomes now focused
Stepping from the shadows of the corners once webbed
Crossing, these sunsoaked sands of sunrises preached
With reaching hands, to touch the braille upon windings trails
Which only led back to the same gruesome pangs
Of a souls once upon a times, bound in maimed
Reading the writings on the wall, as cascading waters broke
The pinnacle of lost, tumbling and crashing to the reef
Belief, of a life breaking free from the dampened day
When faith became submerged beneath the assailant currents of
Hopes castaway possibilities....
Branded into their eyes, by the father of disguise
But no more as the clock struck three, and inversion, began to flee
Awakening from a dream, where nothing, was what it seemed
Dorothy Gales amphoric rainbow, draped upon a cross ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Percivals Promise!?
Form:
"Petrichor "
Two minds
have made an entrance
magnetic bodies electric
minions babble
it’s just wasted white noise
sandpaper against back stories hit
The Wall of Wasted Time
He’s read most between the lines
He’s all hard hot and cool
unruffled piercing eagle eyes
forever on the hunt for willing prey
She’s incognito in disguise
seeking a challenge amongst
the spoilt and unsoiled
green-eyed fray
the two watch
in studied silence
like heat seeking missiles
they will find each other
poles apart
opposites
light and dark
fascinated
they are each other’s mark
the ozone is now charged
the crowd dissolves
invisible all their faces
unread their lips
unheard their madding mob words
whispered all graceless
passionless empty pages
time departs
the fuse is lit
Two minds’ eyes connect
both burning id reflect
the moment before they met
neurons travelling at lightning speed
through pulse to fingertips
reach out towards
each other’s mortal form
to touch the cerebral net
then later
find fingers reading skin
like braille and thirst
to drink from reigning lips
the moment before the
welcome storm hits hips
to taste the salt in
the cumulonimbus bursting
blue feral hollows
of their naked terraform
the Two minds
like absent gods
high and lost
in each other’s ocean
bent and tossed
live their story
tattooed at the place
where bodies leave clean sheets
and souls connect
electric bodies ignite
La Petite Mort
wave after wave
their drowning moans
ecstatically deplore
their final becalmed
silence approaching
the sweet mercy of
Petrichor
(LadyLabyrinth/2018)
https://youtu.be/5hFCZ1tzWR0
"Body Electric"/Del Ray
"I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul"
I Sing the Body Electric, Walt Whitman
(American Poet, May 31,1819 – March 26, 1892)
"The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself balks account,
That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect."
I Sing the Body Electric, Walt Whitman
The future won’t arrive with trumpets—
no brass echo to herald salvation,
no golden scroll unrolled beneath a bleeding sun.
It will leak,
like soft radiation through the seams of our sleep,
like forgotten news,
scrolling endlessly
on a screen no one is watching.
It begins now—
in the blinkless eye of the surveillance bee,
the hum of servers beneath a monastery,
the last human artisan
training a machine to imitate his flaw.
You’ll know it not by shock,
but by substitution.
Paper becomes pulse.
Pulse becomes code.
Code becomes command.
And command becomes silence.
Children will be born
with their names chosen by polling algorithms,
their dreams shaped by trending searches,
their lullabies curated
by nostalgia engines
that remember the smell of a mother's milk
better than she does.
We will speak less.
Words will decay into tags,
syllables shaved thin for speed.
Poets will be relics—
their verses fed to machines
to train a better algorithm for heartbreak.
And God—
He will still exist,
but buried beneath
a stack of Terms and Conditions.
You may click “I agree”
to access divine grace.
Heaven will have a two-step verification.
There will be beauty still—
but filtered,
monetized,
optimized for engagement.
A sunset will mean nothing
unless enough strangers
press the heart.
We will not wage wars with weapons,
but with bandwidth.
A nation may fall
because someone whispered
the wrong idea
into the wrong server at 3 a.m.
But listen:
there will also be
moments.
Resistances
that do not make headlines.
A blind man learning Braille
from a hologram of his late wife.
A child growing tomatoes
on Martian dust,
singing to them
because no one told her not to.
There will be
a final poet.
He may live in a cave,
or on the edge of a server farm,
tapping rhythms into stone
or quantum keys,
writing in languages
long abandoned by commerce.
And when the last god blinks
from the neural sky—
when the last AI falls silent,
having failed to understand
why a tear fell
during a kiss—
he will remain.
In his blood:
syntax.
In his breath:
rebellion.
In his silence:
a future worth dreaming.
Because the future has no eyelids—
but we do.
And in the darkness between blinks,
the soul still speaks,
quiet,
glorious,
human.
Love of Literature
Upon the nightstand rests my favorite book,
I beckon her to bed to have a look.
Anxious anticipation flutters in my chest,
As the day's worries and woes, are laid to rest.
Tenderly, I take her in my hands,
Caressing her cover, she knows my plans.
Lightly yielding as we take our place,
Willing and submissive, with gentle grace.
She's a beauty, in her soft subtle veil,
Gently, my fingers trace her textures, an ardent braille.
I know her body—every peak, every valley, a touch sublime,
Tracing her contours, along the edge, then down her spine.
Pulse quickening, eager mind,
Awaiting the adventure that lies inside.
With delicate fingers, I find my bookmark,
With heightened anticipation,
I spread her pages apart.
An intoxicating aroma fills the night air,
A sweet, savory bouquet, found in classic books so rare.
From the outer page, my finger glides,
All the way across, till I'm just inside.
With a soft, tender touch, I navigate the crease,
Gently pushing outward, tensions released.
With attentive focus, all the way down to the end,
Traversing to the other side, to start again.
Her soft, thin pages, a silky, delicate skin,
A gripping story, further drawing me in.
With the flick of my tongue, I wet my fingertip,
And turn the page with a single finger flip.
Chapter 3, it's just her and me.
Enchanted by her sultry love story,
Hopelessly entangled in her romantic glory.
Page after page, we're intimately engaged,
With kinks and cramps, our positions changed.
Playful paragraphs in passionate positions—
Quite the literary expedition.
Steamy, sensual sentences scintillate the senses,
Trembled? Or trembling? Lost all track of tenses.
Her sensual story, passionate and deep,
Inviting me in further, tonight we do not sleep.
Captivated by every line, savoring every word, I take my time.
Two souls entwined, one rhythm and one rhyme.
Dawn's rays through the window gently creep,
With a sigh, I slowly close the book, softly she weeps.
"Rest assured, my darling, you'll be alright,
For I'll see you again, another rendezvous tonight."
Of all my cherished tomes, she'll always be first,
My love of literature, an unquenchable thirst.
"Dream Bug"
Hour glass
rainbows sparkling
crystal grainy rapids
sliding intrepidly through life’s fingers
their coloured sands speak in tones
they are obtuse and vapid
like snowflakes they fall
confetti on my hands
Writing you
between there
and here again
a feckless court jester
fearless sometimes
walking handstands
painting portraits
in pedantic rhyme
then a page stained,
you're thumb-licked and turning
metaphors gliding ghosting
a snail trail planchette
words miss spelled
they are moulting
like white feathers from cooing doves
we are back in grades of one
singled out on school parade
while the band plays on
we are all caught
like grounded gefilte fish in class
when the saints
go marching in
we’re stopped
for covert mingling
In the office a Nosferatu principal
ignores the grief
behind his two spectacles
two sets of hands are requested straight
knuckles down and held out
the bamboo cane
coaxed no passing
secrets out,
automata face
scream time put on delay
the clock to midnight
on his crypt's wall, hidden
strikes still a braille mind
doesn't once drop the ball
it smiles ruthfully
dialling up the forbidden
chemistry of tears,
a juxtoposition
from the internal well
My opal sky suspended
heaving dreams falling slow mo
through foggy clouds
are breathed in like lavender rain
antiseptic are all
our polished stories
rehearsed repetitively
then delayed and side courted
tennis left hand
lucid inarticulate
backhanded
Love all
candy hearted
is a fresh game
pulled swiftly
from a side pocket
refuting singing flutes
whistling and caressed
by a tongue flirtatiously wetting lips
a regular, pulsating change of pitch
a romantic vibrato
recalled
he calls me
a witch
Scent of a woman
once je t'adore
now her true essence leaking
their personalities mirror switched
bloodied and cut
pieces of peace
stolen by a foolish matador
she’s holding open the exit door
Dream Bug
walks across a
marked and sullied page
lines bleeding right
Melting
dissolved
to the far corner
lid sealed
in a glass jar
left-brained
Dream Bug
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
The soul is but a vast ocean of vigilance
Streaming with incresent colours towards life
Infinite within its parhelion possibilities
Relentlessly searching, betwixt the everflowing tides
Whereupon all things approach these providential probabilities
Of endlessly prolific visions thus beheld
Within the grasp of pristine pictures brushed and painted
Afore the overtures tubular bells; now sounding
Strewn, beneath the curatives silverish moon
Sirventes tunes, born, within fascinations bloom
These meant to be rhymes, amid Dorothy Gales times
Over somewheres prized amphoric rainbow
Arched imaginations, of fantasias floriferous creations
Breathing their pollinating light, within every breath that they breathe
Escaping the carcinogen caverns through torchbeared passages
Beyond the flesh rent falls and encumbering shawls
Carved crude, these animus meshed jackets
Encased within the chamber once laced
Unto broken bricks of concretes chained
Like Percivals plight....
Unmentioned between the lores, this wondering upon metaphoric shores
While barricaded by the calibrated stone engraved
Until antinomy could devise no more; yet
"If all we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream?"
Scream, and shatter these williwaws window panes
Awakening, beyond their oblique orbs of obscurities, void
To find 'The Holy Grail,' amid incarnadines blinding night
This veil removed, as clarity becomes now focused
Stepping from the shadows of the corners once webbed
Crossing, these sunsoaked sands of sunrises preached
With reaching hands, to touch the braille upon windings trails
Which only led back to the same gruesome pangs
Of a souls once upon a times, bound in maimed
Reading the writings on the wall, as cascading waters broke
The pinnacle of lost, tumbling and crashing to the reef
Belief, of a life breaking free from the dampened day
When faith became submerged beneath the assailant currents of
Hopes castaway possibilities....
Branded into their eyes, by the father of disguise
But no more as the clock struck three, and inversion, began to flee
Awakening from a dream, where nothing, was what it seemed
Dorothy Gales amphoric rainbow, draped upon a cross ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Percival's Promise!?
Form:
You held everything together when it seemed everything was crumbling down.
If it's any consultation I'll be the first to admit.
I miss you with everything I have in me.
It's not that beautiful face or the body that accompanies it.
It's those huge eyes that I could stare into forever.
With all the time we've spent with each other.
As the time we spend far from each other.
I miss the goofy big haired girl that always made me laugh.
The wit to fall in love with someone like me.
The things I reveal in braille.
You took every part of me and wore me with your look.
Your fashionista sensibility.
You make the simplest of anything that much better.
I grew accustom to those moments.
The moments I never sought in anyone else.
I could never look at anyone the way I looked at you.
Eccentric and fun.
A model that rips the runway of my eye.
A pretty face that made every idea that much brighter.
It was always the sincerity of how you looked at everything.
From your hair.
Your smile.
I miss that.
The precious feeling when I'd hold you in my arms.
The need to protect something as precious as you.
Life makes the simplest of anything complicated.
I sought to protect and cherish you with everything I have.
My heart in love with everything you are.
You irk me, you irritate me. You press my every right button.
Most of all I could never look at another woman the way that I've looked at you.
The reasons I miss you, that I love you so.
You changed my perspective of what love is.
I irritate you for the beauty found in those moments.
To miss a flight and spend just a second more.
Forgetting the public eye, to fade off.
The things we keep between you and I.
Your sense of humor.
Your tongue against the side of my neck.
We've shared pieces of ourselves that I know deep down we wish we could take back.
But all the money in the world couldn't make any other moment that more important.
Pride aside, I left the best part of me with you.
If I could do it all again I wouldn't change a thing.
You inspire me without solemn apology.
Because of you I am different.
The quality of how special you are.
Deep down I crumbled.
You inspired me to find the beauty in the rubble
The soul is but a vast ocean of vigilance
Streaming with incresent colours towards life
Infinite within its parhelion possibilities
Relentlessly searching, betwixt the everflowing tides
Whereupon all things approach these providential probabilities
Of endlessly prolific visions thus beheld
Within the grasp of pristine pictures brushed and painted
Afore the overtures tubular bells; now sounding
Strewn, beneath the curatives silverish moon
Sirventes tunes, born, within fascinations bloom
These meant to be rhymes, amid Dorothy Gales times
Over somewheres prized amphoric rainbow
Arched imaginations, of fantasias floriferous creations
Breathing their pollinating light, within every breath that they breathe
Escaping the carcinogen caverns through torchbeared passages
Beyond the flesh rent falls and encumbering shawls
Carved crude, these animus meshed jackets
Encased within the chamber once laced
Unto broken bricks of concretes chained
Like Percivals plight....
Unmentioned between the lores, this wondering upon metaphoric shores
While barricaded by the calibrated stone engraved
Until antinomy could devise no more; yet
"If all we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream?"
Scream, and shatter these williwaws window panes
Awakening, beyond their oblique orbs of obscurities, void
To find 'The Holy Grail,' amid incarnadines blinding night
This veil removed, as clarity becomes now focused
Stepping from the shadows of the corners once webbed
Crossing, these sunsoaked sands of sunrises preached
With reaching hands, to touch the braille upon windings trails
Which only led back to the same gruesome pangs
Of a souls once upon a times, bound in maimed
Reading the writings on the wall, as cascading waters broke
The pinnacle of lost, tumbling and crashing to the reef
Belief, of a life breaking free from the dampened day
When faith became submerged beneath the assailant currents of
Hopes castaway possibilities....
Branded into their eyes, by the father of disguise
But no more as the clock struck three, and inversion, began to flee
Awakening from a dream, where nothing, was what it seemed
Dorothy Gales amphoric rainbow, draped upon a cross ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Percival's Promise!?
Form:
I rip and chew at my edges
Trying to eradicate
Placate
Eleviate
My pain
The anxiety
The part of me that threatens to freeze
My mental disease
The part I hope no one sees
The inner demons I wish to appease
The tattoos that your artistry
Injected
Under my skin
With invisible ink
Yet I feel it there with the words I think
As I claw and bite into my pink
I wish to be smoothed out
Cared about
As the blood appears it calms my shout
Exquisite pleasure wrapped in the pain
With it, some level of relief I attain
I tell myself
I can't
I won't
do it again
Yet with chewing
I feel my inner turmoil wane
The weaker bits
The inner head stitches
It helps me scratch, those indiscernible itches
Stopping the soul twitches
In shame I hide my hands
Fingers and things
The evidence my body sings
Strategicly placed
My problems kind of erased
In fabric bandages encased
Still desperation has a taste
Inner turmoil only temporarily chased
Was I designed for this
Some kind of inner sickness
Expressed in a serpent's kiss
As I'm hypnotized by it's hiss
I wonder
Is there a way
to fix this
I wish to be
a fully healed
Calmer witness
Perhaps this is my litmus
Another test I fail
For I'm a blind man
Who can't read braille
I'm bound by ropes
That help me cope
Evidence I can't wash away with soap
I wanted your yes
But always got your nope
Became an inner pauper
Surrounded by hope
Still deep down I feel like a dope
I know I have much to be thankful for
Greatly blessed I can't ask for more
Still I fear what might be waiting for me
An imaginary enemy
Hidden behind the next door
Threatening my hope for a peaceful shore
Still I know this inner tension is a gift
It's a wave on which, I've been given a lift
It helps me travel far and swift
As within life's currents I hear the music shift.
There is a tune I wish to sing
Above the maddening ring
A new place from which I wish to begin
Beyond tattoos
And cracked and bleeding skin.
Peaceful rivers
Flowing from within.
Please read Njeri Unjeri's poem Tattoo's, after reading her
poem I got to thinking of the tattoos that all of us wear.
For Nathan's Mental Illness contest.
Form:
"The Conversation: I Found God, so now what?"
the ugliest thing happened here today,
I could turn away and write of unicorns
but I’ll write about beauty found in the ugliness anyway,
like how a mother said goodbye running out of words
throwing her child into the arms of strangers,
so the child might have a better turn
but I’ll write about beauty found in the ugliness anyway,
of Love in all its strangeness, the mother bleeding heart lost
throwing her child into the arms of strangers,
so the child might have a better turn
the gift of life a mother gives a child, that comes with all its strangeness
of Love in all its strangeness, the mother bleeding heart lost
imprints one day we’ll be together again, impressing my darling Love is never lost
the gift of life a mother gives a child, that comes with all its strangeness
the daughter stands tall talking to her mirror, her reflections become contagious
Imprints one day we’ll be together again, impressing my darling Love is never lost
and you would know me anywhere for you are the Goddess I love more than God
the daughter stands tall talking to Her mirror, Her reflections become contagious
the mother draws Her nearer and whispers to Her child throughout Her ages
and you would know me anywhere for you are the Goddess I love more than God
the runes of life are lost in tears and found on fire deep living in Heaven’s pages
the mother draws Her nearer and whispers to Her throughout Her ages
you will feel me in your heart, for there you’ll hear my voice so much clearer
the runes of life are lost in tears and found on fire deep living in Heaven’s pages
You are me and I am in You in all your deepest stages
you will feel me in your heart, for there you’ll hear my voice so much clearer
the words like braille that stroke the heart where Love like God does dwell
found on fire deep living in Heaven’s pages
(LadyLabyrinth/2024)
Saturday April 13th, 3.20pm
Bondi Junction, Sydney, Australia
"Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children."
(William Makepeace Thackeray)