Long Chime in Poems
Long Chime in Poems. Below are the most popular long Chime in by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chime in poems by poem length and keyword.
A bright light engulfs the room
and suddenly disappears
ushering a blazing essence
that abruptly evolves in the atmosphere,
buttons unlatched
zippers break loose
shirts collapses over skirts
flesh dancing in flesh
flesh devouring flesh
and impatient breath
whispering soft words in her ears.
Electrified
mesmerized
enraptured
emotions bathing in emotion
exotic moment intoxicated with fear.
listen carefully and tell me what you hear?
sounds thundering beyond steep mountains
doors hammering speechless voices
debris flying high in the air,
but they lie there firing on without fear.
Lights grow dim
and a mysterious sound chime in.
Pum Pum Pum
It must be the voice of an angel
walking up and down his gigantic chest,
kindling a soft fire that rips aimlessly through their ears.
It captivates their emotion
and enflame their burning passion.
dancing and prancing
skipping and dipping
sliding and gliding
they went to the extreme.
Eyes fixed in a steadfast motion
calculating the mysterious sound
chest pressing against chest
chest pounding upon chest
spilling tears of joy all over her face.
©2013 Christine Phillips
Quiet ... to ... Hush ...
Quiet ... to ... Hush ...
The Butterfly wings gently over the flowers
As the Flute whispers in the wind ...
Soft ... to ... Gentle ...
Soft ... to ... Gentle ...
The Goldfinch warbles its song across the lake
And the Strings add their rhythmic hum ...
Mild ... to ... Mellow ...
Mild ... to ... Mellow ...
The Crickets click their heels as evening falls
While a solitary Drum holds court in melodic bass ...
Rest ... to ... Calm ...
Rest ... to ... Calm ...
The Trees sway in cadence with the breeze
So, Too, the tinkling of Bells chime in their harmony ...
Caress ... to ... Love ...
Caress ... to ... Love ...
A Teardrop warms its cheeky path
For the Symphony has touched a Heart ...
Germane generic geeky guy
five sixths enroute
to complete lxiv luxurious Earth orbits
experienced chronic, demonic,
physiologically hegemonic...
irritable bowel syndrome
without shadow of a doubt,
yet aforementioned plight
the following lines of poetry
will not be about
problematic posterior plague.
After contemplating discomfort
linkedin with said medical condition,
yours truly realized aftermath
of Hurricane Ian concerning
those who weathered category storm
suffered a fate much worse
subsequently, I took a brief hiatus
typing lines of impossible
to understand questionable verse
challenging proclivity of one
yawping wordsmith being terse
yeah right you probably think
crowning glory upon
mine nonestablishmentarian literary endeavors
hands down majority of anonymous readers
would immediately qualify
his swiftly tailored prolix harried style
unquestionably, obviously, and irreverently
imposing expansive vocabulary as perverse,
no doubt hurling expletive donned curse
at me with every stinging breath they took.
The previous writing endeavor
attached catchy title
at outset intent to brook
unspoken protocols analogous to river,
which overflows banks swallowing
entire metropolitan areas
categorized as biblical flood
believed to occur once
every five hundred year
exhibiting impact greater
than storied facebook
(as personal side note,
said creation a markedly popular
social media platform)
influencing great swaths of populace
allowing, enabling, and providing
user trademark friendly look,
which ineluctably draws innocent naif
into webbed wide world,
where coders fashioned
innocuous virtual pitfalls
many a stalwart devout
online interoper figuratively snagged
courtesy tempting virtual,
lock, stock and withal
ingenious (some might chime in –
nefarious, opprobrious, pernicious...)
neigh vee tailhook.
Meet mystic mind where wonder waits,
Yield to fine grace in profound sight;
See surreal signs here at the gate,
Touch tranquil trace in love's sure light;
Intent sparks clear such bubbly sounds,
Choice charms calm chase in floral blooms.
Quest beyond fear grips gruelling grounds,
Urge spreads a balm as feelings zoom;
Obsess grand surge of mellow flow,
Thought quotient brings such myriad waves;
Ignite and merge warm pulse that grows,
Etch ardent swing as movement saves;
Note happy times in curious hues,
Taste patterns chime in vibrant cues.
Leon Enriquez
05 April 2018
Singapore
"Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering" (Nicole Krauss)...
and so went ventured forth to do so,
stringing the answers together like a song,
and all of them were right, but all of them were wrong:
a bell, a wind-chime in a soft-summer breeze
sparkling wine, a coquettish tease
rainbow ends and butterfly wings
eternal blossoms and early Springs
a mirthful cornucopia of fruit
ribbons and bows, adorable, and cute
an inducement to bravely speak
a dance, grown closer, cheek to cheek
a siren song on a lonely sea disguised as a question,
but really a keya challenge or a call to action
a promise of elusive satisfaction
an opportunity to grow,
the seeds of love at last to sow
a flash of lightning and a thunderbolt
followed by backflips and a somersaults
a two-way mirror of himself
a kaleidoscopic image of a misfit elf
an invitation to the blues
a year and a half in Tom Waits shoes
a sojourn of unending length
a demonstration of enduring strength
inspired confidence that what is right
will part dark clouds when no hope's in sight
a reminder of an earlier day
a twinkling star, a moon's silver ray.
a lifelong quest, a sacred duty
a mysterious, arresting beauty.
In the end, he kissed her memory goodbye
as his immortal spirit floated in the sky.
He pondered, when he got to Heaven's door,
a question he had no answer for.
Dream catchers chime in the wind,
like soft tones of a xylophone.
Melodic melancholic rain,
is free flowing,
but morning birds still arrive,
sitting on wet window sills,
singing about their desires.
In daffodil daydreams,
the breeze resonates like a flutist,
gently swaying bluebells in a rhythmic flow,
as pink, silver and lilac heather spread
around a bed of golden violet crocus.
Under my magnificent magnolia tree,
ivory petals dance in puddles upon
damp lawns with fresh grass,
weeping love songs strummed
on acoustic strings of green.
Sprinkles of drizzle sparkle,
like an absent lover's ostinato,
caressing the earth in a
rhapsody of tender kisses,
nourishing it's soul to harmonise with
a symphony of returning sun rays.
As a chorus of clouds clear in
a final crescendo, introducing
sapphire hues with golden delight,
rainbow pastels bless the tempo
of rows of tantalising tulips
in kaleidoscopic shades -
as natures breathes in alternating fusion.
Today’s student is not like we were in the sixties.
The child never had the last word back then.
The child must always have the last word today.
Today’s teacher’s biggest problem is this….
When one student is sassy, other students chime in.
This could not have happened in the sixties.
In the sixties, in my day, the teacher was god of the class.
Usually goddess, but you get my point.
They held the whips, chains, all of the power.
We students were respectful almost a hundred percent of the time.
Those who were not, were rapidly shipped off to reform school.
A place we figured was like jail, except without food or sunlight.
In the sixties if a student had been disrespectful, we would have been silent.
Waiting for that student to be tarred, feathered, and murdered by the teacher.
Her full right, as goddess of the class.
Superman walks round my neighborhood
Dirty cape, crooked cane, ain't too looking good
Hit by a Mac truck, Highway 43
He's on a medical marijuana disability
Everyday's the same old struggle and strife
Happiness, is just a state of mind, mine's a beach
Where the starfish chime, in the sun
Where the starfish chime
Where the starfish chime, in the sun
It's not the end of the world, things could be worse
Batman's broke, lost everything he owns
Had to sell the batcave, had to hock the batphone
Batmobile's tied up in a title loan
Batgirl's on the corner, Robin's on the methadone
Everyday's the same old struggle and strife
Happiness, is just a state of mind, mine's a beach
Where the starfish chime, in the sun
Where the starfish chime
Where the starfish chime, in the sun
It's not the end of the world, things could be worse
Donald Trump, now he's the President
Gonna make America great again
Gonna drain that swamp gonna build that wall
Haters gonna hate, you can't please them all
Everyday's the same old struggle and strife
Happiness, is just a state of mind, mine's a beach
Where the starfish chime, in the sun
Where the starfish chime
Where the starfish chime, in the sun
It's not the end of the world, things could be worse
©2018. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
*Image of Take In North America by Amtrak.
Training Experience: Novice
All onboard, the Pacific Coast-Liner,
it is seventy-seven, my first leave
of a first year's work. A bit sideliner
on board, the conductor took my bag, "We've
an opened dining car?", ... only diner.
Hilly city skyline glistens, task the
stars a righteous challenge as bay bridges
chime in, and scores mankind not to go, "Huh?"
Though, not bested but balanced by smidges,
from the dining car, swirled eyes go gaga!
Speckled dark over SF Bay, a shaky
train crossing tracks, passing seductive woods
and dotted town lights yond away. Snaky
mountain passes morning eyes, a boyhood's
dream grasped tunnels and frames of white flakey.
Portland, a short stopover, unknowing
passengers, like me, went to the station.
Town postcards I found and left, ongoing
browsing for some soon turned to frustration
as the train went without them ... mind-blowing.
Fronting Portland's downtown district, the view
is great o'er the Columbia River
we crossed to Vancouver. Washington cue
our end's nigh and the train will deliver
me soon to old friends, of a boy they knew.
The quaint King Street station close up ahead
and as I'm all packed and ready in my
private cabin. It stopped, chose I instead
to be last. Friends asked the agent if I
missed it? "He looks Hawaiian?" He pointed.
2021 October 14
*3rd Place*
Railroads, A Historical Glance Back
~~BJ Legros Kelley: Judged 2021 November 16
I hear no ambulances at night
Secure sleep brings wishes accepted
When the sirens are whinging
Sanity slightly, briefly unhinging
Silence bulges with restful respite
Rural city living, sanctity protected
Chatter, coo, call of bird community
Bud eardrum with broken two way tune
Tickle of pigeon scale evocative
Constant chirps mosaic cooperative
Chime in with flight twit sweet carefree
Siren counterpart halts song, confuses
I hear no ambulances at night
Tells me that little city sleeps as one
Metropolis echoes layered havoc
Rising pitch navigates dense traffic
Granted nestled peace, place polite
Midnight rest farewells sirens sung
Comfort gained without the wonder
Will the police chase end in tragedy?
Whinging sore implore of sirens
Gradual damagable sanity expiring
Are you able to roughly number
Amount of sirens you heard today?