Long Brazen Poems
Long Brazen Poems. Below are the most popular long Brazen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Brazen poems by poem length and keyword.
Eeevile in the realm of the Undead
Chilled blood red cold
Vampire vexation - sexy at best.
Wrapped in comfortable uncomfortable silence
Silence so sharp - you can feel the fangs at your neck.
Sanctimonium or sanctimonious
Vampires dripping of sophistication
They make a show of letting you know
That morally they ARE the BY FAR
With eyes so dark, so deep, so very tinged with icy heat
They draw you in with that sinful all-consuming stare
And tease you with the taste of truth or dare
Soo good it's bad and you can't wait.
To experience the grandeur of that liquid of life
Consuming it excites you
Allowing you to see past death and into the light of forevermore.
Cloaked in satin and bedding in secrets
While bemused by the beguiling beauty of the night
Vampires are never at odds with their shadow selves
They are just inadvertently lethal
You are cruelly entranced
By the bloodlust and the romance
The sensual, seductive man thing
Beckens you beseechingly
Brazen with decadence
Defying decency
He extends his elegant gloved hand
Drawing you in closely
While seemingly mirrored medieval menace
Brings out the dead in your eyes
And happily ever after becomes such a bore
Goodnight my darling you have opened and shut the door
Drank of the blood
Vampire Vexation is now your forevermore....
I am coming to see you dear, I have no time to spear, I am coming out of the shadows of doubt to find out what this thing is about, I want to experience a brand new tomorrow and leave the darkness behind me as I journey towards the pinnacle of hope to fulfill my destined journey.
The sun has dried the moisture out of the clouds and summer is on the run, the birds are going east, west, north and south and the wilderness with its forward premonition is lock with time near the ocean of the divine, while autumn waits patiently under the bush for the perfect time to cook.
The guests are pouring into the town and there is preparation all around, the kitchen staffs are running in and out with trays loaded with fresh baked cakes and bread, they arrange them neatly on tables in the halls and hungry people are getting ready for a ball.
It’s is more than a treat for the hungry people roaming the street; there is lots of food around so excises some manners before you go inside, don’t eat more than you can manage and don’t be a glutton you will have more the next day and what is there is just for today.
I am coming out of this town and shake the entire demon to the ground. I have broken the ropes and chain and flush the portion down the drain.
I have pulled up the whist from around the plants and prepare the land to make a brand-new start, the bad energy is exorcised from the property and the bitterness they throw into the gate is sent running down the lane.
The bad men have left the town and summer is walking around. The heat is rising and the country girls are singing, they are getting ready for a brand new beginning.
I am locked up in a strange place and I am sandwich between the walls and the gate, the brazen sun is approaching the hill and my heart is singing a strange rhythm and I want you to listen in.
My heart is connected to the ground listening to the melody of a familiar sound but time continues to move around to defeat the origin of that dreadful sound.
I have evolved.
I came to rest upon a hill overlooking a valley
And off in the distance deer gathered in a rally
The clouds above me seemed to breeze by in lazy fashion
As I sat here conflicted with my latest passion
My life is a like a rose that lost all its petals
Leaving behind only thorns and twisted metals
I thought I had lost all of the love I have to give
And the past I'd constantly have to relive
But this valley in which I'm granted repose
Shows that my heart has survived past woes
She's a very brash and brazen young lady
But she's all that I can think about lately
Her eyes sparkle like stars in the night sky
Making me feel as light as a feather so I can fly
If only I had the courage to truly speak the words
Perhaps in time I would finally be heard
For months I've sifted through perplexed thoughts
Feeling my heart twist itself into knots
Every time I wish to say something real
My voice turns robotic for the usual deal
So I came to rest upon a hill overlooking a valley
Hoping that I could finally find courage to rally
So inward I look deeply to find my true self
Hidden behind false personas on a dusty shelf
The timid and shy man I am is a mask soon to be eviscerated
So that the true me can be free and finally celebrated
I stand upon this hill and cry out to the very stars
Ripping off my shirt I show the whole world my scars
If one waits for love to find them it'll never be found
So gaze upon my courage and be spellbound
I will fight for the feelings that grow roots in my heart
And this day is the beginning of a brand new start
I came to rest on upon a hill overlooking a valley to find repose
Instead I suppose I lost myself in the art of prose
But by losing myself I gained sight of my true self
No longer locked away like a poor man's elf
In time I will reveal the secret of my affection
No longer damned by eternal introspection
I came to rest upon a hill overlooking a valley
Knowing tomorrow will be this play's finale
ON OPPOSITION
You are entering in as I am to leave.
Believe me, that’s not my intention.
But just to mention, we stay in opposite poles
playing individual roles contradicting each other.
We don’t bother rather made a deal.
Thee! Try to feel love. Me, love to feel.
Me, pensive in introspection! Thee flaunting on fluency.
My hesitance dependable on happenstance.
You create events behaving brazen bold boasting brevity.
You are always in fight, whether right or wrong,
that’s not the question
and I am to moisten outrageous outlooks,
hence to surrender.
Better to sort out problem, making divisible by two
without remainder.
You fly fast like sudden gust
Me moving slow like aglow Moon.
I started step by step towards East with least ambition.
You rushed on West on quest of high expectation.
at last to crush on me at clash face o face
on confused collision ending in inevitable unison.
My beads of love splintering on centrifugal force,
settling in centripetal attraction on petals of your blooms.
Illusive mirage glistened on amorous oasis.
10/03/19
Purely Fictional Poem
Robin Hood, 2020
Out of Sherwood Forest,
here me come!
To run for President,
I am the one.
A brazen thief, to sweep
your 401k's clean!
And overburden worker
birds with high taxes,
after all...
I am the King of Mean!
.
With hatred shall you see the
feathers of other birds of a
different color.
I have pitted some of you who
fly....
Writing "BIRDISM"across the
skies and blame my fellow runner.
Victimhood, yes, may it be our
rallying cry!
.
Of course, the poor will never
see the money!
It's only for govermental
workers in fine offices,cushy
and plenty sunny.
I know how to squeeze your
bleeding hearts,
In order to conjure up hatred for
your fellow birds with any money!
Beware, then, my deadly,poison
political, razor sharp arrows!
Lest you fall,like millions of other,
unaware, braindead sparrows!
"You were created to form your
own nest."
That's the lies my opponent crows!
The gall~why he reads from a
defunct book, the Bible, no less.
But I say, pass all your freedoms,
and all seeds over to me.
The sweat of your brow belongs
to humanity, not to thee!
One bird, one vote!
R. Hood
July 31,2019
3:30 pm PST
Form:
We Are The Stardust Men
Dedicated to T.S. Eliot
We are the stardust men,
the wayward stardust catching men,
dalliances of mind and shadow occur openly,
As we have cast off our anchors
And await the tidal sway,
The open expanse of deep landscape,
Beckons the siren call.
We are the seeing men, the blind
far-sighted beauty-seeking tin men;
repercussions of old laws and rituals,
like drowning petrels, hundreds of them,
dot the landscape.
Where, oh where in the excrement of human habitation,
the many-layered strata of ham-fisted movements
did we fall out of our fantasies,
like stones from the shallow well.
We are the stardust men, looking for an atomic biscuit.
We are the rocky and mortar men,
Made of skin and water and fear;
Ham-fisted soul searchers, dressed in layered strata,
The stardust men,
Wrapped in haze and cloud,
As smoke wafting upward, streaming outward,
Unlike the tides clockwork geared up and locked in,
the conditioned we, breaking free,
Leaping out of the trees;
We are the blue-sky looking men,
the running free, cloud-seeking breathing men,
out to find brazen perfumes in the stunted dooryard,
out to seek other floral arrangements in the embrace.
We are the stardust catchers,
The brazen thumb tappers upon lost trellises,
All nets and hooks, attempting to catch
an elusive ambiguity.
Dream-Blisters
by Odin Roark
“…Like the glow of star-dispelling lights
rising,
saturating air
from 5th Ave
to Trump Towers,
to the Bronx,
atop the bridges glinting brazen shouts.
“Hurt and pain guised as success,
a purulent throb of discharge,
woulda
coulda
shoulda
now,
like always,
decorative wounds,
cover-ups
flung high over and through,
settling seasonally in Pennsylvania
2nd homes, where farm animals
gaze from fields
at repeated history,
learned celebration,
attainment’s price.
“So it goes.
“Rising,
spreading,
oozing dream-blisters,
festering from forever frictions.
Id and ego,
smooth and calloused,
reduced to screams and laughter.
"Have and have not antecedents
surviving now as virus,
knowing not of antidote,
immunity prevention
long ago ignored for addiction.”
“Why is that Mother?”
“Like the book says, sweetheart…
see here the illustration
barnyard animal-looking humans
all dressed in party finery
wondering what
to do now.”
“Why are they wondering?”
“Mr. Orwell told the story long ago.
Another writer addressed it again
a bit different,
but with the same warning."
“Is that what they’re wondering about…warning?”
“Yes, dear.”
She caresses her daughter’s forehead
“Some things take a long time to learn.”
“But we do learn them…right?”
“Sleep warm, daughter.”
Journey without movement
Transported energy first, not connect to my body yet
Body is finding it’s self
Body is finding it’s self
Am I alive awake or dead
Am I dead or awake?
I lie dormant, physical body on my bed
Am I moving, yet- yes but
For if my body with me and my spirit soul is inside
What are the those things that darkness hide
My set quality is two identities my evil’s good and by good evil
Never birthed into likeness my two identities retain their separateness
In my heart I am apart, in my spirit I am apart
Apart separate am I, WHAT? I am Journey without movement
I stand align with the sunshine’s down on my being
Standing tall, reaching for my freedom I am Journey without movement
My breath wants to connect with my body whole
Instilled travails traveling yet instill intangible
Smoke brazen of disperse body separates from its self
Where’s my breath now after death
Transported energy first, not connect to my body yet
Body is finding it’s self
Body is finding it’s self
Am I alive awake or dead
Am I dead or awake?
Feeling I the distance separateness I am in journey without movement
From my heart, spirit, soul and mind I am in journey without movement
All interventions all connecting slurring’s strong holds
We are all are one a cord on journey without movement
Seventh fold? Stirrings of interconnectedness to recognition of my oneness
I am in journey without movement
Journey without movement
12/2/22
For Journey without movement Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
128 Words Poem
Ice Crystal Chimes
Staggered shapes of ice crystal chimes dripped pools on the concrete floor,
Cut of pink stones floating as castles in the air,
Drive on torrid wind, no stopping here, pour beneath the sea of din,
Passing through gated entranceways of marbled halls,
Echo soft slippers off steps between the walls,
Enchanted evenings roar when sun shines up the mist,
A forever garden in the courtyard with bushes of hibiscus,
Then sunsets ablaze, that’s bright and brazen,
If heaven could talk, this golden city is a haven,
Moon swept shadows illuminate night, Upon bold construction, up many flights,
The labyrinth occurs for time on repeat,
While porticos of shade escape the heat,
Voices call come down, homeward bound,
Salads and pot lucks bring them together,
Counting on sunshine pleasures!
Seeing through the wav’ring flame of light
your porc’lain skin your brazen eyes so fair,
the songs which stir the depth of frosty night
do not waylay the course of love’s despair.
For love of King, not I, thine heart’s declared.
Oh, I am damned by wanton deed bespoke
on Furies wings my cursed heart’s ensnared
and in the fire we shall rise on smoke.
My love I’ll not rescind, nor Him provoke.
Beside your sleeping form our bed a pyre,
the curtain's caught in candle flame once stoked,
we’ll go to Holy Hell within the fire,
a martyred Queen, an errant Knight so blind
for Kings and common men are seldom kind.