Long Bypasses Poems
Long Bypasses Poems. Below are the most popular long Bypasses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bypasses poems by poem length and keyword.
summer scent of roses loosens grips of gloom
floral cups of red charm capture healing,
melt defenses
she inhales a held bouquet
ensnared romantically,
one couple's free fall to love
in a fragrance courting worship
its aroma of lushness
immodest crimson flames, born on long stems
she bypasses thorns, the cutting traces of pain
cultivates blooms
the crisp red blush of summer
that soothes corrosive woe
to soften her restless sway, misgivings
what shimmers in a garden?
scents seductive
enticing her
stirringly brief
an atmospheric wonder
as secrets slide away
For Brian Strand Contest 1097
Poem written - June 20/21
Revised March 26, 2022
On the way to the nursing home, we pass many beautiful sights. So many homes with pleasant yards, lawns, and flowers that delight. After so many days of rain then a little break, green everywhere abounds.
kudzu wraps up trees
grows rapidly reaches road....
goats needed to dine
Several homeplaces have clear-cut trees so that the area looks completely different. Then the area where the tornado came through and demolished so many acres of trees, damaged homes, and other buildings. It will take years for it to grow back or will it ever?
birds can't find a tree
nesting impossible there....
landscaped homes needed
The anxiety grows as we get nearer to the nursing home. Will the visit be much the same? He no longer has his hearing aids so that adds to his confusion. He mostly can't hear nor understand so the conversation bypasses him totally. She isn't up to date with the times either because she is isolated or she can't remember. The short-term memory is gone. It went the way of yesterday and can't return. They are not allowed to share a room nor are they in the same section of the home.
nurse brings her out first
he comes out, sits next to her....
they kiss, worth while trip
The ebullient fluidity of ecstasy cascades with charisma
across the enchanting fabric entrenched in the valley of time,
changes the tenor with the reflection of imaged chromatic sky
on the parchment of the delightful dawn and the dulcet dusk.
On the convivial canvas of sanguinity the emotive artist
paints the poignant panorama of the designed dreams,
perceives the cadenced essence of attitude long unsensed.
Life is then an outlook lattice of euphoria called marvel.
The miasma of surreal trance envelops within its insight vista
the formless cloud of dreams with changing mystique motif,
drifts diffused from the cauldron of obscurity to nowhere,
the shadow swathed by the sands of the stalled time.
With the multicolored seraphic strands of possessed passion,
the infatuated mind weaves the tapestry of conviction,
dispels the ungrasped illusions that seem dismally distant.
Life is then an attitude of sensation called elation.
In the reverie river flowing to the shoreless eternal sea,
the mariner mind sails on the winsome waves of rapture,
bypasses the debris of the denuded wasteland banks,
floats across the beleaguered bridges that break behind.
The vintage voyage seeking the fulfillment of the end envisions
in the gleam of twilight its assimilation in the bay of bliss,
sculpted at the filigree fringe of the sunset halcyon horizon.
Life is then an opinion of acuity called beauty.
Let me chase that naughty witch
on the flying, wooden broom...
causing havoc and gloom,
that's why she's super rich
robbing any unlit house watched by a raccoon
and laughing she bypasses the orange moon.
Ugly and treacherous witch, you won't admit
that you steal candies from children's bags without a rip,
but proof is on your rotten teeth yellowed by sweets...
doesn't their cry move you enough to return their treats?
Why would a witch on a flying, wooden broom
steal and hide goodies in the darkest castle room,
where the empty caskets of vampires lay?
Have you seen the blood stains earlier in the day?
Fly over pumpkin-lit graveyards while Death looks for skeletons
to hang on trees to celebrate the eerie Halloween night...
keep away from such an horrifying place infested with bats;
fly faster, fly higher before darkness becomes light!
Copyright ( c ) 2012 by Andrew Crisci
Winter's Slumber Contest
Regina McIntosh
Winter's slumber has me in cozy places, warm and comforted
I am grateful for the wood fire that burns, many blankets I have
So many things to help me get through the bitter cold
The wind that howls through the woods and all the piles of snow
It is the season to hunker down, giving time to reflect on past events
To plan positive things for the days ahead, to process methodically
A time to be grateful for new things and old creative talents
Still, the sun shines on many cold days, rising with endurance
As it creates sparkling stars in the pure, white, snow
Showing beauty bypasses the battles of the cold weather
I awaken from slumber on these stark, beautiful, days
Birds come to the feeder, as I watch the show through frosty windows
A colorful picture filled with songs, alert my senses to see and hear
It is a time to cherish the shelter of this safe home
To appreciate all there is when the world is cold outside
A time for rest, a time for relaxation, a time to enhance intuition
It is a contrast of kindness and bitterness, calmness and fierceness
The power of patience, granted by the bulbs, waiting to bloom in spring
12/26/23
. "Journey rages within me, day and night.
Vibrant sail modifies my course.
Along the way there is great delight
Together with jealously, sadness and remorse." The Poet
______________________________________________
Navigating through life's highway comes from within
Meandering through the road signs of my life
I swerve to miss potholes all with trepidation
Always leaving room if I need to change lanes
Can't predict circumstances that may cause detours
STOP GIVE WAY SLIPPERY WHEN WET signs I must heed
My travels this far without crashes
I engaged cruise control this part of the trip
With no map this journey was hard for a while
Lost concentration hit a gravel patch
Chugged to have my broken parts repaired
Follow directions on which my future depends
Now taking bypasses to sight the scenic view
Need more pit stops now the long journey has tired me
Mindful of the rewards it's time to park my load
All the people I have met some have come and gone
Was happy not to settle my spirit was free
Memories in mind and heart always in top gear
Journey end my destination is just ahead
It’s time for someone else to take the wheel
Pecos Bill daddled and skedaddle like molasses.
Sunglasses cuddled, his badass
Stetson buffalo cowboy hat.
Lashes his airish, passive donkie Mis. Do Goglles
as he passes, airin' the lungs.
Sits there like that passin gasses,
at the chanting masses.
Allers among the willows, Pecos bypasses,
poaches the stooges
Dooie and Doodle Doodole's angelicas, n boozes.
Bested by the Sheriff, neat and straight on its feet, no actress;
a rope chafed Pecos neck at the gallows.
3/3/2020
Allers – Always
Among the Willows – Dodging the Law.
Western Slang, Lingo, and Phrases – A Writer’s Guide to the Old West
https://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-slang/#A
Myopic muddle
as beauty swirls
hues of heaven
yet bypasses
static statues that
pose as sentient
beings beknighted
dawn’s divine dream
seen as bland mirror
on ebbing eyewash
cathartic colour is
a universal uplift
even for low level
lustrous earth dweller
Immersed in skewed slant
I bandy icicled retort
as though taut timing
ever swayed rigid
stone age postures
elysian echo a speck
in azurite caves
to auditory aloofness
allied to blinkered
whim ‘s wanton
plight with dull
and dim twist
dispersed among
trivial terrains
alienation personified
vessel vacuous and void
rehabilitation of
the wayward faculty
a burst balloon blip
outsider ostracised
from gilded gardens
and sumptuous bloom
of ripe recrudescence
still limp laggard
on hackneyed cue
might yet stumble on
the fig of wakening
Just how does this lunatic tick
He gawps looking stupid and thick
then does acts to demean -
Put his mitts on our Queen
Ron Dump is an ignorant ????? !
He bypasses royal protocol
Treats our Queen like an old Barbie Doll
He walks in front of her
Like a fat mangy cur -
Show decorum, you nasty old troll!
* insert suitable ending
Ron Dump was seen to put his arm behind the Queen's back at a royal dinner
It’s not the first time he’s broken royal protocol this time by by touching the Queen and on his previous visit he walked in front of her and also on separate occasion he kept her waiting for over ten minutes ... it just isn’t done!
6/4/19
Wandering the roads. It has me under a spell even at this juncture in my life.
Even when spiked brambles
scrape my eyelids or those tender foot soles are being twisted by tooth-like stones. Quaint and angular they cluster mischievously among
green shoots that litter every footpath.
They lie in wait, in ambush for the absent-minded unsuspecting venturer.
It goes with the territory for this seasoned footman of the road.
The labyrinthine landscapes are house and home to the spiral lanes and clover clad hills rife in my area.
Their rustic heritage now sacrifice to the
orphanage of a malleable environment
Crop farmers obsessed with harvest bounty.
Restless developer pushing limits of an urban jungle. Fellow traveller in league with those fugitives from the cockpit.
The pressure cooker of modern life. Town habitant with split loyalties who clings to tumults of the city but hankers after rural haunts of yore.
Culprits one and all.
A lair from the hubbub.
Dwellings of the strangest kind huddle together like dots in a matrix separated only by a minuscule space.
Their charm not yet eroded by intrusions of the steel plant genus.
Brick and mortar athletes of homes in a jiffy.
The more alluring aspects of tradition have been fostered and preserved.
Among these are the shortcuts or bypasses of a different more sustainable engagement
Sequestered passages that shave miles off perennial ramblers with a penchant for straying off course.
Saviours of the clueless hitchhiker whose load saps his or her every energy.
One’s eye becomes a lense to all these things hidden or supposedly hidden.
Optic sensor to those trails just slightly out of focus.
Those tucked away secret spots beloved of local wiseacres.
They festoon far flung countrysides at random. Here there and everywhere.
Posted ; April 2nd 2022