Long Canvas Poems
Long Canvas Poems. Below are the most popular long Canvas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Canvas poems by poem length and keyword.
http://youtu.be/X5lfjFatgZU
Floating in the sky...
Changing patterns fill my eye...
What will you become?
Vagabond and wanderer...
Riding wind so high,
No matter where it blows.
You thumb your way to places
I have been and some I'll never know.
Chameleon...
Changing shape and color,
Hiding your identity,
Until you speak with beauty and power.
First, a turtle, moving slowly.
Crawling and paddling in peaceful grace.
Next, a shark swimming swiftly
Consuming those around you.
Finally a dinosaur...
Your neck and tail extended
So I will know your name...
Forgetting you're a cloud.
Vagabond and wanderer...
Just vapor in the air, traveling everywhere.
Marshmallow treat
So soft and sweet...
Then dirty and dark...you loudly speak.
Rain, thunder and lightening are your friends.
It's pleasant when your anger ends,
And rainbows arch to show me where you've been.
At night, your shadow hides the stars
And makes us wander where they are.
You choose to show selected few
The moon and stars...romantic you.
Sunrise...you meet the sun with colors of the day.
A canvas. A pleasant palette
Where light can play.
Sunset...you form a beautiful pillow
To gently catch the sun.
So rays may rest til morrow come.
Vagabond and wanderer...
Tomorrow let me see your face,
Another chance ...
To watch you dance...
Until you catch a ride...
Shift shape...
And hide.
"If poems could fly" they'd be "so hard to catch."
"Life hangs by a thread" that's prone to detach.
"A thought flew in" but it didn't stay long.
Music was playing; it escaped to the song.
"The cost of thinking" I cannot afford
if "pure, sweet voices" are not implored.
"My fair poem," where did you flutter to?
"My carousel of thoughts" vamoosed to the blue.
I'll follow the muse as "a wandering wind" leads
and "venture forth" where imagination breeds.
"To set the stage" "like a waterfall,"
"a vision, enticing and fair" I must recall.
I'll ponder The Maker "stitching skies' stories"
and "that poem" floating in all its glories.
"A smudge" of sunshine upon "spring's charms"
touches "April's trees," budding with open arms.
"Questions without answers" drip from the sky,
"wetter letters," as I plead to know why.
"The pond's alive" with rippling poetry,
a mirrored reflection of the dreaming tree.
"A poet's canvas" is nature's design,
a love so inspiring, so fresh, so divine.
"Visions elysian" "wandering on a cloud,"
"echoes of eternity" leave me wowed.
"Mighty as mountains" are the thunders of art.
"To fly again" I must reach for the heart.
"A thought is born" like "a tiny star."
I wish for it to twinkle wherever you are.
5-21-2021
Title Wave Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
A special thanks to Gershon Wolf. The words in quotes are his poem titles, which he gave me permission to use. He writes a lot of whimsical, humorous, and political poems. You will find an interesting variety from Limericks to Sonnets.
Being the lone cause, I admit fault
Accepting blame for our recent past
For I was the one churning atmosphere
Blowing into winds dusty hot air
Watching it become a tornado,
Leaving you to face the storm alone
Creating a vacuum that swallowed you.
But the sky's blue, dread has passed
Rain departed breaking dark clouds
Vanquishing remnants of misty thoughts
That ravaged your pristine grounds.
Flooding the horizon with twilight
Pouring colors on silky canvas
Evening has made festive plans
Inviting presence of celestial stars,
And I have joined the entourage,
Millions of twinkling lights above
Guiding the night to brand new start
As you welcome me with open arms.
That is the dream I have.
March 21, 2018
I thought you loved me
Even after you broke my hope in a thousand pieces
And left me on my own to collect them
I thought you cared
You were the quietness i sought in the mayhem
You were the will to keep me going
The path I was confident of
The only person
Who could see right through these walls
A different side of me
Which even I didn't know at all
All those nights we spent admiring the moon
When really I was admiring you
I felt so lucky
Even if I didn't care about myself
I cared about you
(And maybe I will always do.)
Why do I wreck my life for someone like you
Even after you break me again and again
Why do I still trust you
Why do I love you even after the pain
Why did you enter my life
Why did you even pretend to care
Why did you become my weakness
Whenever you were far,I craved you near
I need an answer
Not a hanging reply
I need to know how much I mean to you
Somebody you love
Or just use to get by
Why was I so foolish
Why did I try...
Just give me back my heart that left with you
I am not asking you to stay
What else did you take...
My soul
Which was never mine anyway
What about the chapter I wanted to write with you
The home I wanted
To always be by your side
It's crazy really
When I never trusted anyone
With you it felt just right.
You were again in my dreams
I don't know if I was happy to see you again
Or sad because even after all this
You are the only place where my heart still felt at ease
Maybe I threw away my walls a little too far
Believing i deserved a try
Now I don't know how to build them again
I don't know if it's your fault
Or maybe just mine
What we had was beautiful
A work of art
But you tore apart the canvas
The broken pieces gash deeper than shards
They cut me apart
You moved on
But why are you still here
Why do you get a place in my heart
When I don't get one in your life
Author Dana Redricks
July 16, 2023
In a world longing for love’s embrace, where whispers and gestures fall from grace, the yearning hearts seek solace and care, to know, beyond words, that someone is there.
For in the realm where love takes flight, it blooms through actions, shining bright, not merely spoken, but shown with might, a language of love, graceful and light.
Words, they hold power, they capture the soul, but love demands more, a tale to unfold, embracing the senses in every degree, a symphony of love, rich and free.
For love is not bound by fleeting emotion, it’s deeper, truer, a boundless devotion, unconditional, it flows endlessly, through time and seasons, consistently.
Love’s canvas expands, never confined, it’s the touch that mends, and the gaze so kind, it’s in the glance, a silent caress, a gentle presence, love’s sweet address.
So let us remember, dear hearts that yearn, love is not solely the words we discern, but in actions, in what we display, in what we see, in love’s vibrant array.
Let us uplift, and let us inspire, with actions that fuel love’s eternal fire, for in the embrace of love’s tender domains, we find solace, and a love that remains.
From the yonder hazy horizon, the hills painted blue
undulated down the emerald copious landscape
in rhapsodic rhythmic waves that cascaded still into my view.
Its curling contours carved for my hamlet a serene shape,
That once cradled my endearing home in quiet milieu
in the bounty of the beguiling nature that made me agape.
The fairy flotilla of cotton clouds I would see roam,
make the mesmeric celestial panorama framed high
upon the seamlessly curved canvas of the cerulean dome.
With the serenading winds whistling in the sapphire sky,
my childhood ebullience soared secretly to a great height,
followed the winding trails of the colorful kites I loved to fly.
A silvery stream glided with the sparkle of delight,
surging joy with the shimmering allure of liquid pearls,
flowed blissfully with the flamboyant façade forever so bright.
On its rippling waters swirling within the gentle whirl,
I sailed paper boats tinted with all the rainbow colors,
saw fascinated these glide away wobbling in the current’s curl.
These sailed to a distant fantasy land, where I didn’t know,
I imagined entranced by the charm of infantile dreams,
on these spectacular boats my mariner mind would someday go.
From obscurity all these boats and kites I can’t redeem,
for in the twilight zone with dust of time they’ve disappeared
beyond the horizon that is sinking now with the dusky gleam.
The fondest childhood memory hasn’t yet deserted me,
for crossing all the signposts in my walk of the last mile
in the glitter of the sunset hours the child in me I still see.
My guardian angel sleep how I honor thee,
Thy contrarian ways leave me breathless,
Thine art, the bearer of life’s synchronicity.
I am your vessel, a vassal on your highways,
Thou speakest in tongues, thy magic conveys,
Subtle shifts in the feelings of voluptuous days.
You speak to me archaically, sometimes not,
With ears I absorb your many voices,
Though my eyes are slow to know your every plot.
Faithfully you come to me when the shades are drawn,
Carefully you wake me with touching flair,
I am pushed to reconsider most every dawn.
A night without you is an adventure at home,
It is, to wit, but a journey to bed,
Better not to sleep if you venture not to Rome.
Your flavor spices my mind, with thirst I crave it,
Its abundance and magnitude move me,
I search the seas to find your shores to inhabit.
You surprise me, you recognize me, you see me,
The masks I use to cloak, your hands deface,
Uncovering my ploys with mirthful subtlety.
Naked I stand before you, your canvas to paint,
With strokes of genius you unnerve my life,
In depth you make my shallow ways seem less than quaint.
A weaver could not imagine the text you bear,
The knot you wind only a knot can know,
There is no metaphor that can describe your stare.
I will never understand how you do this trick,
Yet it is me who does it every night!
I am undone by you, yet you make my life tick.
If you are the eye of my mind who sees the truth,
Better to go, leave me to my devices,
To abide by your laws would be just too uncouth.
Yet I hesitate to cast you away stranger,
You are the god who lives inside of me,
I can not live without my nightly messenger.
Stay with me then my ritual marvelous friend,
I need you, crave you, in sleep I would die,
Without your visitations life could not amend.
------
Written 09.06/2014 By Jornjorn.
Behold my countenance*:
indeed a transparent canvas
ready to project
heart’s kaleidoscopic iridescence…
Hence, with blessed decades of life exposure
it is not reluctant to expose soul’s woes
never concealing irksome warts
along struggles to remain calm and dignified
but verily impossible;
moreover, those peering wrinkles
with assertive frowning marks
expose human nature’s response
to frustration-caused despair
and distress attacks;
then the blemishes lurk
behind weariness angst
as well as misery turmoil.
This visage, however…
is dominated with laugh lines
highlighting girlish grin
and now, womanhood chuckles
evidencing spirited mirth
of laugh-out-loud exuberance.
Best of all, is this facial distinction-
(aside from dimples catching attention)
remarkably an asset, testified by onlookers:
the contagious radiance of faith’s bliss
overpowering forlorn disposition
vanquishing enigmatic smile
while defying hypocrisy’s conceit
after confessing vexation-show.
Lingering --- even midst coffin viewing
and toward eternity…
…my face, I pray, will exude
perpetual earnest gratitude-glow
of beauteous serenity
as valuable masterpiece
constantly restored and
unceasingly revived by
the great Painter of my existence:
God Almighty!
Proverbs 15:13 A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance: but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.
December 19, 2019
1st place, "STRAND SELECT 6, any form, any theme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/8/2020.
Within a garden, unseen yet so true,
A cosmos blooms beneath a mother's hue.
Bioluminescent butterflies take flight,
As constellations whisper through the night.
Here, shifting sands of emotion flow,
Hormonal storms where gentle breezes blow.
The whispers of grandmothers, wise and old,
Echo in dreams, in stories yet untold.
Singing stars ignite the fertile ground,
Aspirations for the future, dreams unbound.
Whispering trees, with roots of memory deep,
Nourish the garden where the baby sleeps.
The body stretches, a canvas vast and grand,
A metamorphosis sculpted by nature's hand.
Blooming with life, a vessel strong and true,
A sacred space where miracles accrue.
Love's gentle rain upon the garden falls,
Nourishing dreams within the earthen walls.
The tremors of life, a joyous, rhythmic beat,
Felt not just within, but beneath her feet.
This journey, a tapestry woven with might,
Of magic and wonder, bathed in moonlit light.
A bond that strengthens with each passing day,
For mother and child, forever they'll stay.
So let us celebrate this miracle's hold,
A story whispered, yet bravely told.
For in this womb, a universe takes flight,
A woman's magic, a radiant light.
I have paint on my fingers, my face and my nose.
Waking up at three or four in the morning to play in my studio
Every single morning? No but most of them
Because painting makes my heart laugh
Painting keeps me young, and full of enthusiasm
Painting my cartoon people fills me with joy and glee and mirth
I did not always have this hobby; it was gifted to me by my granddaughter
At nine she was a notorious artist in the family
I had purchased paints and canvases for her.
While she painted, I drew. I am a cartoonist.
I draw whimsical things- faeries, brownies, elves, pirate queens, unicorns and dragons.
She begged me to “waste” a canvas on myself. I was reluctant. They cost eight dollars each.
Now I buy canvases in bulk. I have an art studio. I start almost every day painting.
It brings me joy, optimism, and peace of soul.
I am an artist, a painter, and I am thrilled.