Long Charmers Poems
Long Charmers Poems. Below are the most popular long Charmers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Charmers poems by poem length and keyword.
BLUE NILE IN HER VEINS
At the edge of the great Sahara
In the antique brown sands slithers
The Asp, a species of Egyptian cobra,
Prize catch for the snake charmers.
In the golden times of the Pharaoh
The venomous snake, an instant killer
Enjoyed a special status in Alexandra,
A symbol of royalty, nothing lesser.
The king Asp, the pride of the palace,
Charmed by the beauty of the queen
Could never leave his protected place,
On queen’s neck he wanted to be seen.
His desire was fulfilled the fateful day
Cleopatra decided her life should end
As Roman torture might come her way
For she had the royal dignity to defend.
The regal reptile, confused, found it hard
But planted the kiss of death in royal style,
The venom of Aspian love mingled in blood,
In her veins flowed to silence the blue Nile.
May 4, 2018
Build a padded wall around the entire earth.
We've become one giant insane asylum.
For which there's no cure.
While you're at it.
Hang a neon vacant eyes sign.
For everything has turned the deepest shade of blind.
Right has turned into wrong/wrong spliced into right.
We've become the galactic idiot-a universal blight.
That's what happens when you replace growth.
With a quick-fix prick, Charmers and anorexic influencers.
When mountains of youth are glazed with victimhood.
Unearned accolades -no accountability balm.
There's no longer social sedimentation.
Between the saint and psychopath.
God is flipping us the dirty bird.
While searching for his misplaced wrath.
Like me, you surely know about the history of our island
You surely know of the time when it was being colonized
When it was still a dark and green forest
With dodos making everywhere their careless nests
If like me, you are also a dreamer, then
Do let yourself rise
Like me do imagine the time of long ago
When the western world was just beginning to land here
Imagine the beauty then, the freshness of the island
Trees, dark and deep, ebonies
Rivers, seas, birds of all kinds
Plantations everywhere, animals of the most gentle kind
I am sure, then, the time was right for love
Maidens dressed in lovely dresses
Would waltz at the hands of handsome charmers
Whether under the gleam of the silver moon, or on the crystal clear beach
Imagine kisses shared and stolen
Imagine love as yet being forbidden
Imagine the beauty of the surroundings
The lovely parties done on the cool nights
Imagine the toils the first people had to go through
When they did start to build everything
When they did choose to place the foundation stone
When they did fight off the first horrible cyclone
Maybe I was here living as a fresh maiden
Newly snatched from my homeland
Having been brought to the land of burden
Meeting then, here, the love of my life
Making then of my island, the worldly paradise
Making here, like the dodos, my nest, my prize
Well of all this I can only allow myself to dream
A dream of love it is, in a most ancient setting!
You had to be there. Literally, there.
Just hearing it removes the third dimension.
Necessity's the mother of invention?
Idea-whose-time-has-come must be the père.
But how can you replace the footlights' glare,
the acrobats' contrived, but visceral, tension?
You can't. So much is lost in a mere mention,
that wings its way to us through colourless air.
They once were princes. Now reduced to strugglers.
What use is wireless to ventriloquists?
Where did their future go? There are no answers.
The dole can never compensate the jugglers,
or anyone whose acumen consists
in sleight of hand - snake charmers or tap dancers.
mailed copious letters to friends
acquaintances, a couple to publisher
to elicit opinion which poet
perfection used to examine
acute as hesitation extracted
Darkness games —— Emily’s
intuitive aim put Robin Hood to
shame exacting was her Veracity
brook too clear to cross calmly near
So — this divinely embodied
Spirited Crystal lowered her sweetie
eats to children below her window
not resisting her feats Giggling
Family and contextual wealth a
gift from Lord Above though parental
closeness not too well fulfilled —-
adoring Austen and Vinnie jelled did
she Su as sister-in-law she could
not but completely open her door to this
endearing Core so smart with Presence
tangoing too impressive —— that rumours
abounded intimacy illegitimate
…
Flowers as neutral nifty charmers
Untainted with emotion her favourite
Devotion —- in perennial garden
Emily laboured with them advising
floundering pistils In own
orchards, fresh fields and woods
she knew them all as Inspiration
on willing call Spring or Fall
Emily —- an ember clear without masks
ambitions, mirages illustrious Lily light
from yonder
authentic her magnetic innocence sought
no validation Circled by Knowingness
within Singularity
sovereign her poems into Infinity
is sown ——- for near on two
centuries we now Crack her
Marbles which into booklets poetess
stitched
—- those on ink and under iridescent
skull nourishing West Cemetery
in Amherst dispersed
Emily’s ‘I felt a Funeral in my Brain’
STILL making Headlines
dying for Beauty surrendering
to Truth Penetrating pure her vibrations
across grey matter
She watches me
W R I T E
Ars Poetica
Poetry should woo you with the subtlety of a snake charmers flute
sway you side to side, captive, held in its sensuous grasp.
The words should lead you blindfolded through a myriad of meaning
allowing you to feel each step, each syllable, each inflection.
Rhymes glide frictionless against the grain of reason’s
attempts to intervene, to interpret a heart.
Every pause a calculated hint of passion’s smoldering depth,
the Yin and Yang of its heartbeat. Cadence should slow the rapid reader,
invite the trinity – mental, physical, spiritual - to dally in reunion.
The start should lead you forward to quench an insatiable thirst,
fueling the desire for more. The ending should return you
to the beginning of your love, rekindle the waning flames
of an appetite – semi-sated – yet still hungering.
6/1/2015
Note – It is the nature of the poet to provoke – not to explain. He may provoke anger, joy, laughter, tears, thoughtful reflection or horrific revulsion. The poet may never know what will resonate with the reader, what the poem will find in them,
what word or phrase will haunt them, taunt them, console them, entice them to read another poem.
Ah, to this land of the monsoons
or should it have been the sunsoons?
Yet for frozen land tourists, a tropical hot boon.
Where bullock carts, stray dogs, horse carriages and cows
pedestrians, goats, bikes and rickshaws
scooters, trucks, motorbikes and cabs
all compete together in quirky medley of traffic jams
On crammed roads you could ram into bulls and rams
So brakes forever screeching, the cars forever honking, hooting
while beggers begged and pickpockets could go a' looting on a footing
But where else you'd see, ducks and ponds in the city
buffaloes wallowing in mud without fear or pity!
Urban jungle eh, you'd think with a wink
and in many's esteem this land shan't ever sink.
Then pass the huge expanses of paddy fields and the rice farmers
and next come face to face with those Indian snake charmers!
Ah and the imposing edifice, Tajmahal, one of the seven wonders of the world
is no where else found, nor are the epic himalayas on any map unfurled
except for India, and a whole ocean with her name
The Indian ocean knows and salutes her fame!
As for me, meeting relatives there, is the best best part
then shopping too in each and every crowded mart
shopping like crazy, filling my spree's shopping cart!
Let me set something straight -
Right here, right now!
Let me put India in the right perspective,
Let me banish some myths,
Some gross misconceptions,
And take you beyond elephants,
Sacred cows, snake charmers and yoga,
Beyond Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Taj Mahal,
To a civilization rooted for
over 5,000 years in the past
To a land rich - majestically rich -
In many cultures, customs and traditions,
In a bewildering variety of races,
Religions, languages and folk arts,
In a vibrant tradition of dance and music,
In religious festivals and traditional events,
In saints, sadhus, gurus and sages,
In gods, goddesses, munis and mahatmas,
In temples, palaces, shrines and monasteries;
I'll baby-steps you through a land
Of Vedas and Upanishads,
Of epic stories and incredible mythologies,
Of Ramayana, Mahabharata and Bhagavad Gita,
Through one of world's great spiritual sanctuaries,
Where religion is a way of life;
An overwhelming, complex land -
Its charm, its vitality and yes, its confusion,
Atonce alarming and enticing.
And that's the way India is:
Elusive, confusing, contradictory,
mysterious and exasperating!
Beyond easy description or analysis,
A phenomenal diversity of dress
and manners making one aware
of a different world -
A veritable fairyland!
No other country offers quite such
A spectacle of teeming masses that
continue to enrich the heritage of mankind,
Nowhere do the past and present
coexist in more colorful promiscuity -
An incomparable country,
Easy to love, hard to forget!
"There's only one India!" raved Mark Twain,
"A wonderland of fabulous wealth
and fabulous poverty, of splendor and rags ..."
"The cradle of the human race,
The birthplace of human speech,
The mother of history,
The grandmother of legend and
The great grandmother of tradition."
This, indeed, is my country
Where I was born -
An Indian at heart,
An American in spirit!
Namaste!
Khuda Hafiz, Jai Ramji Ki,
OM Radhe Shyam, Sat Sri Akal,
Jai Hind!!
~Love letters to the sub continent
contest by cyndi MacMillan
I wished to find the words for you - so beautiful and dear,
The pretty ones that you would be so happy just to hear -
And when I found the very bestest, selected just for you,
I’d put them into a poem’s lines, so they would ring so true.
It took time to find these charmers that like to hide from me.
“Queue up in a line”, I said, “so my beloved can see!”
But these dumb clods never do what I command them to.
This is the silly way they lined up to prepare for you to view:
“Soft like silk, a lullaby, a rainbow, an azure sky,
Verdant woodlands, a butterfly, snowy peaks, apple pie.”
“You must tell her what she means to you and what is in your heart.
I’m afraid this is not good enough, it’s only just a start.”
“We’re walking out”, said these dopes, “of your love poem, I’m afraid.
What you are asking of us stiffs is over our pay grade.”
It was then I thought, with these mad guys, I should make amends.
If I cannot command them, then perhaps we could be friends.
And so, my dear, it’s time I fear, to pause and to regroup.
Because these words have turned on me and turned this poem to poop.
Some of the most charming people in the world
are trolls with mean dispositions they hide for months at a time
They like to date lively, joyful, women
These charmers are lovely; saying the right things
Tricking these women into falling in love with them
After they capture these women, they attempt to isolate them
Doing their best to keep them from their families and loved ones
Stating their friends are not “good enough” for them
Making fun of their woman if she wants to see her “mommy” or “sisters”
Beware of anyone who wants to isolate you.
They might smile, and you might have seen charm from them
But beware. Abusers and trolls smile too.