Long Brims Poems
Long Brims Poems. Below are the most popular long Brims by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Brims poems by poem length and keyword.
Meddlesome acknowledgement was my gift to many
I wondered where the nutrients were coming from
I was absorbing your words, parched by my own dimming light-years
There I was stunned by the legion of black-faced martyrs
Exasperation of the undeniable misunderstanding of every conceivable word
Left me with another path onto death
And not nearly dying, but regenerating in technological, factorial woe
Demon thoughts squeezed bile from the brim of subconscious drivel
Accelerating the ghouls from the gull of my esophagus
I was held down from the dreams of the fortnight
From words of architecture ascending from the brims of the archangels
Eyes remained closed
And I felt the actual descent of my downfall
I did not open my eyes at all
I did not mean to pry into your life, oh beautiful soul
Please accept my gift today
My fierce gaze into your lavishing grail
Led me to accept and love where I often fail
I am no longer smothered in your intricate designs
Though I am surely small to you
Though I feel only a fraction of a fool
I am the hidden spark under the timbers of lies
I am the hidden spark under the timbers of lies
I have come to realize,
real-in-my-eyes,
that these eyes that only half see -
yet see through blind walls
just as easily as a breeze
sees itself in a trembling leaf.
Eyelashes together
the fine hairs of apperception.
I real-eyes my happiness.
Happy are the hapless -
metaphorical hat brims pulled low
over smiling eyes.
This realness in my eyes,
not perception, not a fraction,
or factual seeing,
but this being in the happiness,
a mind-view of a world made new
just for a moment, and then,
later another, and there will be more.
Happiness bubbles up
in the eye, in the stillness
of the moment that looks at it.
On twilight's sinking bridge, Nyx's waves swell
With an ethereal wand casts, dark, bewitching spell
O'er deep crevasse, spreads her enchanting veil
A glittering panorama of lights ballasts infinity
Moonbeams, star streams, and planet gleams form trinity
With blipping dots, beeping dashes cosmic dust braille
Heavenly bodies over the dark seas parasail
Orion's silted bow the fiery bastions doth assail
Kneeling, Hercules with glowing club o'er dragon doth flail
Pleiades's gaudy sisters in blue-sequined dresses luminosity scale
Virgo's virgins spawn into egg; sterility to efface
Pisces's forked fish tails lock; damming each, corroded face
Aquarius's stout water pail brims with charms to engrace
Ursa Major's silver ladle dips deep into briny well
Ursa Minor's frail oyster spoon dips into pale ale
The Southern Cross's interceding lines point to holy grail
within the parting of titian stained skies
a wisp of crimson elapses from sight
as a gossamery wind amplifies
lullabies falling limpid in hushed night
beneath the willow, i watch as it weeps
then cradle myself in its fragile limbs
'tis there that most forgotten memories seep
as the salty spray of loneliness brims
you reach out...a shadow in lambent light
i feel death's touch upon you through night's air
with wings wide open you take off in flight
unable to free me of this nightmare
this willow tree, though once my childhood crutch
tucks me in its folds, like a mother's touch
December 27, 2019
Best Sonnet of 2019 Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Life is music that drifts in open spaces
sometimes a brash crescendo
that brims with the fullness of now
when stories break from narrow, rigid scripts
stifling random routine
Life is free wheeling inventiveness
peacockish
a feathered tapestry
parading like a wedding dress down the aisle
Sometimes life is a ping pong bounce of sorrow
giant ball
that blurs the sky
that covers our eyes
a fog creeping into ruined places
Life is a tumble of forces
a counterpoint of malice and joy
that goes in an unexpected direction
like the connective chords of love
an airy drift
amplified
in the ringing rush of time
Poem composed: July 2/2022
Missing: Pieces of Me
SPLINTERED HEART
like a leg severed, ripped loose:
the phantom limb throbs and aches
knowing yet unwilling, unable to accept
that it's only a ghost playing evil pranks
sitting frozen and paralytic
from the weight, the frightful weight
dragging, forcing down the head
welding chin to collarbone...
heavy, crushing feeling on the chest
punishing pressure on the heart
a heart at the point of imploding...
alarm clock crying, screaming:
time warp between sleep and awake
when not yet aware of where one is
not yet aware of what or who one is
a split-second reprieve until----
(oh, it really did happen
oh, I don’t have a leg now
oh, you have been torn loose
taking pieces of me with you)
it has been proven medically:
people with life threatening seizures
can eventually function normally
with half of their brains removed
not so with a splintered heart
not so with half a heart...
~ How can I forget a gently bold spirit that is Tim
whose poetry brims with verve,
contemporary images, wit, and emotional depth?
While exchanging comments on our posts,
I found out that he stayed in my country during
the war. His anecdotes sparked the beginnings of
a dear friendship that allowed us to connect through
email and facebook. Tim was an erudite poet as
seen through this winning piece in a contest.
~Knowing his health was becoming frail, he would slip
in and out of the site, yet quickly responded to most
of us on social media.
When Tim passed on, I was shocked; his demise ...sudden.
I am grateful to have known him up close and personal,
a man of integrity who wanted to revisit our country with
his daughter a year before he finally rested in peace. Salute, Tim!
Anthony Biaasoc's The Uncontest Contest
6/22/2020
Holy EarthSpirit
is our seed bearer.
Our blue celestial universe
could lack nothing
In meadows of green sweetgrass
She enlightens repose.
Into living waters of recomposure
She bears then leads us;
There S/He revives Earth's compassioned soul.
She guides me
by polypaths of virtue
not forsaking Her sense-rooted story.
Though we pass through this gloom
doom river valley,
I fear no mountainous trauma;
Within me
your rooted integrity
and your well-seeded womb are here,
to hearten and enlighten us.
You prepare a wealth gardened table
between us
under the eyes of my predative
and hoarding enemies;
You anoint our capital driven values
with multicultural oil,
my catholic creolizing communion cup
brims cooperatively over.
Ah, how active hope enlightenment
and empowering love pursue us,
every day and night of Earth's living systems;
My home,
the recreation of ecowomanist
re-imaged Yahweh,
As long as Earth light power
revolves around Sun's well-blessed
EarthTribe Womb.
Today one more page is shorn off from the book of my life.
On this day of humble rejoicing, my heart brims with gratitude,
For I am granted one more year and the priceless gift of life,
When many young ones are destined to drop off from life unexpected.
Under the shroud of darkness while many falter and flounder,
God has been guiding me all along, never letting me down with,
Hardships I can’t tide over or challenges I can’t confront.
Besides, the love of my family and dear ones keeps me in good stead.
God has been my strength and my guide through all these years.
Though grown older now, He fills me with the fuel to move on
He keeps my cup full with his grace that I enjoy a serene peace
And each new morning to me is a fresh awakening.
I have lost the sheen of my eyes and the suppleness of my limbs.
My brittle bones ache, I can’t move as brisk as before.
But beneath the shell of my withering body and wrinkling skin
I still have a heart that sings, young as ever, not yet shrivelled.
With my sweet family and children around and the lovely people,
With whom I share my life, immensely blessed is how I feel.
I wish to move on in life sharing the gifts of my heart and mind,
Making myself convinced that I haven’t lived my life in vain.
His life was marked by infinite strides,
Breakable down into a chanted psalm;
And a doleful hymn after psalters' word,
Plus a petition to bid the kingdom come.
Keener listeners his recitals yet might hear
In plaintive crescendos in misty auras near;
Are not his footsteps bold in deathless ink,
On dark planes along the latent silvery link?
His ever-pledged faith soared on basis lean:
Choice psalms to check soul's bubbly brims;
Caroled hymns to shut heart's bestial whims;
Tacit prayers for mind and conscience clean.
Opposing these no devilish heads may rise;
No mortal skin more lethal ammunitions kept
In trinity synchrony winning wars against vice;
Blazing witty fires beyond Eden's eternal debt.
With a psalm and a hymn and contrite prayer,
He fought and slew old fogs that trillions dare.
My fashionista muse has many styles from which to choose,
and how she feels determines the colors she will use.
If she brims with silliness, it’s orange she could wear,
for couplets can be quirky heels, and heels come in a pair!
Also when lighthearted or simply wanting fun,
she dresses in a limerick, often yellow like the sun.
If she feels dramatic, she wears a long red gown.
However, she has yet to try a sonnet with a crown!
In a sonnet that’s traditional she is often seen.
When she’s feeling earthy, it might even be green.
Yet she more prefers to green - a heavenly cool blue
while simply dressed in kyrielle, tanka or haiku.
Quatrains and quaterns are styles she likes a lot.
In her closet you can see how many that she’s got.
Romance often suits my muse, for which are many hues:
from flirty pink to lavender. She’s even got some “blues.”
The terzanelle or villanelle she wears once in a while,
especially for moments when they are quite in style.
She can’t dance as easily when she wears free verse.
That style for her can either be a blessing or a curse.
Poems of the spiritual nature require that she wear white
even though she’s more inclined to wear hues that are bright.
The color black can suit my muse if serious is her mood
or if she’s feeling some “dark humor” in her attitude.
My muse wears many styles but she hates the color brown,
so if you see her dressed in it, she’s sure to show a frown!
Jan. 4, 2023
for Regina McIntosh's "My Muse" poetry contest