Long Carmine Poems
Long Carmine Poems. Below are the most popular long Carmine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Carmine poems by poem length and keyword.
My once passionate life,
Charming crayola broads.
Came to a halt,
When she was sent from God.
But heartbreak burned,
As I dripped to the floor.
I cried waxy tears,
Like never before.
She still crosses my mind,
Though a little bit darker.
She ran off with him,
A crayola green marker.
Now tears of red,
So frequently stream.
As the pain of my heart,
Is so easily seen.
These ardent veins,
That gushed passionate red.
Have no reason to flow,
Since my burgundy fled.
Shades of maroon outline,
This broken carmine heart.
These crimson thoughts,
Want love to embark.
But my burgundy dreams,
Will never comeback.
For all of my happiness,
Has melted to wax.
(Tribute to the original poem "Tomorrow's Light)
Waking in the smother cold
Breathing ashes of discarded souls
The chills of old withered hopes
Binding those into Hell's traps
Screams of begs and pleas fill the crimson meadows
Craters filled with poisonous promises
Light of grey and carmine paved the ruins
Scent of rust and debris cover all untouched
Branded by the Reaping ignorance
Watching in the crimson thrones
Sparring no favors but sounds of laughter
These eyes heavy of dirt and rumble
Needing to rest upon bloodied heavy doors
A rarity of true light's warm fills the cold vessel
A breath of blooming life blazing an ember
Reaching a wrinkled, broken hand of hope
Within the abyss of harden abandonment
A soften tear runs down one's defeated features
Wishing for the retuning light to ablaze again
The Players In The Park
by Edmund Siejka
An errant breeze slipped in
Somewhere from the West Village
Caressing a couple
As they walked out of the park holding hands
Shoulders touching
Running her fingers through her hair
She stopped to look up
In return he smiled
His arms bringing her closer
Their lips meeting.
Nearby, the park musicians called it a day
Tired, the old man carefully put his violin back into its case
Next time they might try something new
Perhaps something from Verdi’s Aida
Leaving the park, he passed Our Lady of Pompeii
Hurrying across Carmine Street
He adjusted his cap
Before making the sign of the cross.
Overhead, a rainbow orange sun slowly dipped beneath the City’s horizon
Transforming a warm day into a cool September evening
Weekend crowds
Started arriving
Loud and boisterous
They swarmed the streets
In threes and fours.
Walking home he worried
The crowds at the park were getting smaller
The young never had time for opera
But why did they make their lives so hard
Just to push ahead?
The old man had no answer
Holding the violin case closer, he knew one thing for certain
For him another long day was over.
I’ll go to some faraway place,
On a lovely, isolated beach, at sunset,
And watch the fiery solar ball
Disappear over the limitless horizon.
Look, the waves are rhythmically opalescent,
The azure billows changing to carmine red
And then to misty white as the foam
Dissolve upon the fine citron sand.
I’d lay myself upon a comfy hammock,
Watch baby turtles swim in shallow sea,
Or feel the saliferous sweet breeze
Waft leisurely over the windblown dunes.
Perhaps I’d languidly sway myself into a divine nap
Until the sacred drums resonate with native music.
The smell of finely cooked paella chicken
Would whiff into my nostrils. Time to eat.
I wake and fry a couple of eggs
In my forlorn, unkempt kitchen.
I can only afford a dream.
Stars of Clarity 11-22-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stars of Clarity
Lost in ebony
Void of bursting astral intuitions,
Alabaster amber stolen,
Abandoned in delirium’s decay
Of dying brown dwarfs
Hoarding lavender purple leftovers,
Hidden remnants of disguised advent,
Ashen sojourner wades through impotent stardust
Numb in faded platinum insight.
Out of grey vertigo
Carmine dwarfs arise to overshadow ebony
In a giddy sense of spangled glitter
When enigmas and puzzles
Step out of nebulas into mystic purity.
Pilgrim, found in neon,
Incandescent cavalcades of exploding chartreuse
Guide ephemeral crystalline visions,
Burnished auroras splash across epiphanies,
Rounded shards divulge silver nativity,
When salient flashes nurture constellations of certainty,
Astral sparks of cosmic scarlet explosions,
And shrouded a-ha’s emerge like incandescent sextons
Leading to stellar sequins - champagne diamonds of clarity.
Summer, amid green valley's highest peaks
Through the woods air's sweet release carry on.
Birds quiet among leaves still far withdrawn.
Shade of carmine leaves bath in golden steaks.
Labyrinth fields sun's freedom to rally.
Horned owl rides the air stream, into darkness
Against the fading moonlight's hunt stillness
Joy flying in silence dilly-dally.
Cicadas sing loudly, nymphs mating song;
Graceful gray mourning doves forage in pairs
soft cooing sound, comforting that is theirs
A wee surprise exquisite bliss lies long.
Drizzling sunshine and showers creation,
Promising poetic inspiration.
6/11/2023
The floral foliage of Fall fuels my pen to flow
Nature's carmine carnage is a crimson condition to watch
Russet quills of the trees float down in myriad shades
Amber leaves levitating like flying embers
Auburn arrows gliding to meet the earth
Soft sepia smiles sent down from the Shepherd above
Burnished varnished tree-bits travelling back to the ground
Crumbling orange smidgens creating crunchy cracklings
Brown bracts brave enough to bed with the soil
Gamboge hues gamboling like golden glowing gems
Lurid leaflets leaving their last lucid legacy
Before they turn into les feuilles mortes
the sun exposed
above mountain's edge
through the folds
of dawn's rise
carmine sky erupts
mimicking fire
that burns beneath
in the crisp morning
the earth gasps in breaths
of pallid air
as it rises from the cracks
of asphalt and dirt
the smell of sulfur lingers
the narrow streets are unkept
a few stone walls remain
at the edges of driveways
where houses once stood
the cemetery sits on the hill
behind a weathered fence
yet the grounds are well maintained
if you walk passed the edge of its lot
a mound of dirt well traveled
hides an abandoned highway
about a mile long stretch
still divided, guardrails intact
the danger, no trespassing signs
won't keep the people out
the colors allure
fascinating you
with the graffiti
that covers every inch
while hundreds more
walk daily
down that forbidden path
looking for a place
between the buckles and folds
to have their story told
on the highway of fame
(centralia is a place in pennsylvania where a coal mind started to burn under the earth...people were forced to sell their houses to the state and the few that stayed are allowed to remain but cannot sell or will their houses to anyone, upon their death they state will get the houses! it still burns but less fierce then it once did. they have removed the signs from the highway but once you get close it's easy to get gps to lead you there and when you see people and vehicles line the road by the cemetery, there is the highway, partially hidden by a mount of dirt that was supposed to keep trespassers out~)
A HEART OF GOLD
A
Symbol of a
Seraphic being you are,
For to the hopeless, without a
Behest a chest of hope on a platter
Of silver you offered, and the cold
Maimed, with your fur, warmth
You gave.
To
The feeble minded
In the battle against cruel fate.
Courage for conquest you gave.
To the ravenous innards, through
The darkest ravine undaunted
You trod to feed.
The
Cleaved hearts from
Belied oath of love,
Solace, found in your
Salving speech.
The solitariness fissured hearts
In your companionship suture found.
Nothing
Have I seen,
That you would begrudge
For a heart of gold you have
Even your life, you would as lief
As the celestial liege give.
For his nature, in you reflects.
He, though, just a pearl had, but on
The altar of love down laid him.
For the hallowed carmine from his
Sinew our flaws to blot.
Oh
How like the sun you are
For though we are by distance barred.
Yet, the warmth of your benign rays
Here I feel.
(DEDICATED TO THE GIVER)
I am the
cascading radiance,
between apricot
glows of gloaming,
when mauve mists shift,
mirroring sage seas of love,
I look beyond silvery skies
whilst selfless stars sprinkle,
sizzling streaks
of sunflower sparkles~
upon wrinkled
waves of weariness.
it is in sangria silence, I see
seraphic silhouette of
the mauve moon~
incarnate elysian empires,
where rosemary rivers
flow in righteous rhythm,
awakening stainless
lotus rituals,
soaring amidst the
ardent ambience
of butterfly bliss.
now my heart twirls
to riveting themes,
captivated by the
charismatic credence
of your charming finesse~
swirling beneath
purple paper balloons,
ornamented with
pristine pansies,
to weave fuchsia faith
with
dahlia dreams.
yet, sometimes
I question
the eclectic light,
lulling my aching soul,
would life be a
pensive pilgrim
without your
angelic wings?
what if I had never found
the sanctified sanctuary,
shielded with
golden gates
adorned in
citrine-pearl calligraphies..
would I then
still be drowning,
alone, engulfed in fears?
for I’ve found
silent scriptures of serenity
through carmine carvings
on the mystical walls
in your poetic palace,
there love is the
astral language
of crooning constellations,
guiding poignant peonies
to a holistic sphere
of artistic healing.
so tonight, I’ll unlock
cosmic windows to
the root chakra,
where you are the
enlightened king,
and your
altruistic anthem,
rings musically
like soothing
singing bowls,
echoing forgiving heartbeats,
and I, will remain faithfully
engrossed eternally,
like petals blossoming
within your gardenia grace.