Long Buoyant Poems
Long Buoyant Poems. Below are the most popular long Buoyant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Buoyant poems by poem length and keyword.
Mystique mist shrouds the penultimate path
to the future, fading away in obscurity.
In twilight hour the sunset swansong resonates
the echoless tune of forlorn somber life,
silhouetted against the faint skyline of longing.
The threads of turmoil weave
the blue motif with sadness mold
in craving satiation, riding the sensuous storm
to the blank mindscape of frustrated desire,
once embedding the fervent fascination for repletion.
The shards of splintered hope adrift on buoyant flow
of cascading memories of the lively times
bring back the flavor of the old spices of life.
The remnant vibe of rejuvenation returns
within the sanguinity sphere of listless life.
BELOW AND ABOVE THE SEAS SURF FACE
Gone are the fishers pulling Lugs; the Gull its gizzard rusty hooked;
and barbed, limit its shelled Limpet supply as blown sand creeps;
smart gulls dunk and dip, clean away dry sand grit, clear their voices;
some gulls with salted eyes sing in the briny choir, in the sea salted air.
Cackle is not birdsong ! Choked thirst, on this new digital barren beach.
Crabs below do not sleep, scuttle quickly to pincer cuttle fish inside out.
Lurking above swirls a leaden sky, pressing heavy on a mirage horizon line;
Its distantly trapped! Sunk in long lost rigging, discarded twine tangled nets,
buoyant on the flotsam and jetsam of a weeded bed, stalked by big Congers.
The tide rattled brittle bleached bones, of well anchored nameless smugglers;
who had the timeless tide current wrong, unsaved by oilskin clothed priests.
Breathing smugglers, long shipwrecked in the “ale house” of sin staggering;
his mind baptises their lifeless sinning smiles; many bound drowned.
While plying their trade, in a tirade coined and jewelled, greedy and needy;
there are many hemp baskets, nets twisted around boney blooded fingers,
torn sails billow caught in brackets, and pulleys, long ropes snake about.
Chains with stains of rust, crush filleted bones eaten by black cats and rats;
old Teachers wander the shore of wave words, they fall over, their own hands.
Long gone are the fishers families; they are food now, for long stretched lugs,
Bubbling below !
Despite the pulsing pirouette of urban thresholds,
coruscating catalyst amid detachment,
of golden spoke carousel magnetism,
circle-shape swivel platform roundabout,
that spreads incipient wish fulfilment caper,
as townscape dweller devotee who revels,
in gargantuan silver tinged mineral rush,
of prodigious scoop simolean ascent,
whilst duty bound vociferation from the margins,
will enlist majestic magnanimity befitting,
one of fundamental fortunate flair such as I,
yet one’s habitat has been subject to gauche portrayal,
shelter from Olympic speed amorphous target setting,
where serenity in its multi form expression predominates,
as insidiously potent though urban zeitgeist is,
the off peak bonhomie provided by one’s abode,
must underpin a validating resonant counterfoil,
that lustrous seam jewel-embedded notion,
commonly referenced as unswerving loyal cabal,
though hybrid nuanced fusion on request,
is such an option for assiduous assimilation,
there is no hint or faint suggestion in the slightest,
that one should jettison endearing aspects of street esprit,
and the cataclysmic upsweep inherent in its brief,
the adrenalin so integral for buoyant enterprise,
deep equanimity and raucous daring should coexist,
and not a juxtaposed anathema that clashes,
they converge on several sprouting plots,
contrary to glib assumption blindly trending,
to be unflappable should not imply a bland persona,
effervescent office tumult wayfarer,
still quite the icon in yoga leaning domed quarter,
diffusing stored exuberance in feldspar chip backyard,
where gorgeous inlaid stream’s sunlit gurgle,
is that interfaced amalgam as companions,
from a myriad of disciplines beehive swarm,
to absorb one another’s acrobatic zest,
and synthesise its hub with meditation’s equilibrium,
mantra magic mediating mirthful mayhem,
yet inveigling a crimson ribbon of tranquilness,
to mingle with a whirlpool suction entropy,
in an atmospheric crucible of nonchalant ferment
I have been your living Earth;
I will live and die through you.
I will be your blood born sap;
You will live and die with me.
This Great Transition
into owning competitive responsibility
for climates of pathology and health,
inward and outward,
composed of all past energies,
small co-arising transitions
reweavings
regenerations
now contained in Earth's soil,
Her rebirthing baptismal waters,
Her buoyant air,
Her fertile winds
and purging fires.
Earth's broken down
and tired
of living love
on this unmerry-go-round,
And I can't see Her lovers
but I hear life in you
so we gon' rise Earth up,
Move mountains,
we gon' walk love out
and heal oceans.
And we'll rise up,
We'll rise each Earth's day,
We'll rise up,
We'll rise unafraid,
We'll rise up
and we'll love life a thousand times again;
And we'll rise up
high like Earth's waves,
We'll rise up
in spite of life's ache,
We'll rise up
and give love a million times again,
For Earth,
For you,
Earth, for you;
When our silence isn't quiet
and it feels like we're growing hard to breathe
and we know Earth feels like dying,
Then I promise we'll raise the Earth to Her feet,
Heal forests,
Bring Earth's tribes to our feet
and move mountains.
All we need,
All we need is hope
And for faith we have each other,
And for peace we have each other;
And we will rise
we will rise
we will rise
we will rise,
We'll rise like Earth's day
We'll rise up,
We rise unafraid,
We rise up
and we'll love life a thousand times again,
And we'll rise up
high like Earth's waves,
We rise up
in spite of hate's ache,
We rise up
and Earth does love a million lives again.
For Earth,
We will rise
we will rise
We will rise
for you,
Earth will rise with you.
Diego Armando Maradona :
Dashy pushy rustic persona.
Small structure caught in five feet five frame
Sunny player in fabulous fame.
Promising skill on challenge of arrogance .
Strong sturdy solid sense to keep balance.
Tangled disarranged hair.
Careful, yet without care.
Excitement to enhance but not perchance.
Bullish, buoyant, graceful with eyes angelic.
Not polite, over confident, strategic.
Impatient cocky, the stocky number Ten
to sky ball on loops of eyes reaching heaven.
Contest : The Pensive Poet
Sponsored by : Constance La France
Date : August 5, 2026
“The feeling of emotion, the beginning,
the meaning of emotion, the end.
When these entwine at the edge of twilight zone
the muse sinks in contemplation.” – By Poet
The stream cascades in swirling spate of sparkle,
the shadows of trees sway submerged across plateau
where topaz dew makes diadem on glinting grass,
weaves lilting lattice for me as I’m lost inside my mind.
The drizzling sequins of moon dust
in silken sapphire night of argentine ambiance,
adorn the cobalt sea waves with rolling rapture
where I find my solemn muse saunter.
I travel through the torrent of turmoil,
forgetting all the bridges I’ve burnt.
I choose the road of deep rumination
I construct for the musing me, unpossessed.
Life’s story written in tome of time continuum,
at the end of the cheerless chapter challenges me
to choose if I’ll turn the page or close the book;
I decide to read on till the end.
At the crossroads of crowded compromises,
and after the silent crumbling in loneliness,
following the moonlit path the dreams tread on,
I rise from the dust and become a reflective poet.
When the floating fleet of gloomy clouds drifts away,
the sky spreads the spectrum of dreams
for me on the rainbow arched horizon
where I trace my innate contemplation concealed.
The scarlet sun rises with splendor in dulcet dawn,
lifts the miasma from the masked facet of remorse.
The lyrical winds blow across melancholic mindscape,
sweeps away the dust from swathed senses to revive.
Turning the buoyant emotions into a surging storm
of creative craving blowing with essence of expression,
I fly on its fantasy wings to the realm of reflection
where I wander as a pensive poet.
..
Eurybia casts a bold dare
Within ticks, wreck of sea redeemed;
To calm the dread upon my face.
Ahead I lay on tips of shore
The buoyant glide of milder waves
Is tamed, as siren’s drawl allures,
That even ravaged ghost behaves
While steering me by the coast, she leaves.
I wake to feel a heady scent
Lips tasting salt of restful night,
Away from ghostly hunts that infest;
Till crystal rays snap dream’s delight
Yet in my thoughts, her mystique heaves.
*Eurybia (Yu-wriy-bi-yah)--- Greek goddess of the mastery of the seas,
including the rise of the constellations, seasonal weather,
and the power of the winds.
For Giorgio V.'s Fantasy! (Allegory - Symbol) Contest
by nette onclaud
The duet of a garden's music in June,
afloat with all the season's notes can bring...
The milder one is where chant of orioles
join honeyed air's refrain
as dragonflies flip a spin to answer
the humming pampas on the lawn.
And how the mutter of a pond
swishes around Grandma's flower beds
where laughter wisps and sneakers squeak--
Then, the other one-- a more raucous tremolo;
loud chuckles of youngsters pitching
through hollers beneath white clouds
yelling away for a doughnut fete,
paired with alto voices of neighbors gabbing.
But no matter-- this garden is our magical place
to quench a thrill from romps
far beyond skyscape's tapestry
when hours wheeze by
into this rhapsodic spring - duet...
a cycle's buoyant grace pulsing on and on.
Double Exposure Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
5/21/2020
I shine my light upon the green earth
Reaching down from heaven’s domain
To show the world that their fantasies
Are the way that I illuminate the night
I touch the stars with my soft perimeters
Radiate love through clouds and storms
Mystify the writers and poets of nature
Send a shadow of insight across the seas
I melt with a heart of hope bound by faith
Sliding through the core of dancing spirits
Dwelling quietly along the mountain ridges
My destiny suspended within sweet dreams
I rest my graceful beauty against the eyes
Who take time to notice how I’ve survived
Decades of mystical wishes and embraces
From melancholy souls who treasure praises
I am the color of glittering stars that are afire
Imagining inspirations that color me with yearnings
For reaching across the sorrows and anxieties
With comforting joy and assured confidence
I accept the romantic affections that create peace
And welcome the dazzling enlightenment they bring
With their sense of promise and optimistic ways
Filling up the world with creative intimacy and wisdom
I give away the buoyant caress that others so crave
Risking everything to bring the dance of serenity
With echoes of sensitivity I sing a sweet song
Erasing all fear with my gentle and wise experience
I thrill the onlooker who hopes to find a cure for pain
Moving beyond their limited view toward potency
Feelings filled with brilliant reasons for knowing healing
That comes from perceiving the compassion I express
With me, the haunting moon, there is bold acceptance!
STRAND completely new (3) any theme any form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
June 30, 2020
How glad I could be if, like the teaching of the Gita
I can renounce the fruits of each of my tireless labour.
Being a long way from the perfection of Lord Krishna
Midst lost gifts, I'd seek my son's note that I value greater
As boyish, buoyant naughtiness navigated his road
Fun and frolic outwitted his fervour for true wisdom.
Roaming carefree, like a hippy, his youthful trails he trod
My hopes for him were hushed like the glows of a broken prism.
He grew up with his mother dead; I was his all in all.
My chides pierced his heart, which, I know, might be like a knife.
Like a gipsy, with a note, he left; didn't write or call.
That precious note is lost; I feel as though I've lost my life.
Silver, gold, or gems would never match a paternal bond.
Though in the travails of time, bonds tend to fly far beyond