Long Colors Poems
Long Colors Poems. Below are the most popular long Colors by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Colors poems by poem length and keyword.
What colors, what emotions, what achievements?
The trees wishing the flowers bloomed better
The flowers clueless about what trees speak of
The flowers face the sky and only one question to ask
What is love?
If I wish for it and open my arms wide enough for it to fit,
Will you shower them at me and maybe then I shall learn to feel
Is it like the happiness when you walk through the fields of tulips?
Or is it like a cold droplet of rain on a sunny day
Is it in the cries of the night or in the warm whispers of the pillows that narrate your dreams
If yes then I shall force myself to sleep, hear the cries, wait for the rain to arrive and drown at the touch of tulips
Just a hint at what it is and I shall tear the realms of all worlds to be chasing that feeling
When the flowers never knew they could bloom of love, how can the trees throw their mere worthless words and sound petty
What right do trees have if they walked away when the flowers needed shade from the scorching sun
What is love?
If it is love only because the flower is tied to the tree then love is just an emotion sent from hell
Poets, Films, Photos, Belongings and Fragrances– they're all liars to me and I stand alone in a war against them. If there is a debt to owe you, I don't want your love.
Until I find a fair love, I shall wait for it
Now, for the trees, the flower shall hate it
I found a site on Etsy this morning that intrigues me
an artist named Laurie Terrier creates women statues
These are not skinny waisted women
or Barbie doll shaped women
These are corpulent, Rubenesque women
Real women like this are often trying to hide
Wearing dull blacks, tans, grays, and navy blues
Not these CR women. They are flashy.
Painted in a variety of bright colors.
With black and white checks to round them out.
I found this site today, and plan to return.
Confident women are portrayed by this artist.
The kind of women I surround myself with.
My kind of women.
Women who own their shape.
Apologizing for nothing.
Strutting their stuff the best they can – queens.
Two days after the hurricane…walking on the causeway…right before our eyes
we were greeted on that morning…by a beautiful sunrise.
It seemed to us the earth…even though parts of her were destroyed
had somehow found a way
In the midst of what had to be her sorrow…to celebrate a new day.
To celebrate the fact that even though damaged…she was still alive…still spinning…
and remind us how, with every sunrise, comes a new beginning.
Our eldest grandson and his fiancé plan to be married this weekend In Western Carolina…
but up there with so many lives upended…
They were wondering if, perhaps, their wedding should be delayed…postponed…suspended.
When and where so many people lost so much…perhaps their wedding ceremony should wait.
In the midst of such a tragedy…is this a time to celebrate?
But as I watched the colors of the sun change on our walk that early morn
my mind drifted to all the babies who…during the hurricane…were born.
Thinking of all those babies…parents holding them in their arms…and grinning
I though perhaps this is a good time to celebrate a new beginning.
And how, perhaps, we should take our cue…from the sun, Mother Nature and the Earth
and celebrate their wedding as we would celebrate a new birth.
We’re still planning to head to Western Carolina this weekend even though we understand
the wedding they had hoped for might not go exactly as they planned.
And we will do our best to pull off this wedding…so they no longer have to wait..
giving all of us affected by the hurricane…a reason to celebrate.
And hoping the next day when they wake up married…right before their eyes
their new beginning will be greeted by a beautiful sunrise.
Relentless yearning colors unrestrained
the spectral edge of the halcyon horizon,
where the nascent scarlet sun unveils
the fervent facade of the decorous dawn,
bringing to me across the million miles
the seraphic sparkle of the sapphire sea,
shining with the tinge of azure allure.
I stand whelmed at the finite fringe
of the primal vastness of the aquatic vista
as its timeless vigor tosses ceaseless
on the crests of the swelling waves,
adorning the beach with pearly garlands.
The silent spread of the silver sheet
wraps your faint footprints in fluid embrace.
As the melancholic waves intone incessant
in the moonbeam ballet of the blue night,
I search in cobalt obscurity for my mermaid,
floating away along the stardust trail,
setting sail on the serenading winds
to where my heart hovers on the sea shore.
As a rolling pebble flinging lonesome
with the rhythm of the tides of time,
I’m submerged in the sea of sanguinity
of the rapturous immensity of reverie.
Through the ardent frame of my fingers
I don’t let the golden sands of longing slip,
I turn them into topaz on mystique beach,
design a dainty diadem to embellish you.
The sunset left bright colors; by and by
cerulean and crimson layers wove
designs that blazed beneath the moonlit sky
and spread an absinthe glow upon their cove.
And like obsidian, the charcoal lake
reflected all the beauty of this night,
and in such splendor, lovers would partake
and stir their fire beneath night's sky delight.
Her porcelain-like ivory face glowed
against her sable-brown, long, silky hair.
The ash of roses on her cheeks soon showed
the smoke and heat of passion in the air.
And midnight romance led two hearts to twine...
enjoy their rhapsody of love divine.
Many girls of this generation love to wear a Halloween costume...
something unusual, not looking like a fair godmother, they assume.
Madonna is their idol too, more stylish than Lady Gaga, but much they seem to share...
they should choose the costume that will make them look much older than they are.
So girls barge in stores and buy that costume you'll love to wear on Halloween night,
don't grab anything that's out of style with bright colors that don't reflect moonlight.
Look dangerous and manacing and chase away naughty boys dressed as vampires,
step on their tiny toes, if they try to grab you imitating bats with red, bloody eyes.
Have fun and smile, no night compares to this one with all the noise and sneers,
be careful not to stare at them for too long...their teeth are sharper than scissors.
Run and keep on screaming and they will stop chasing you or at least give up,
and if they springle Baby Podwer on you...make believe that's dust from a star.
Sunny days of amber
Start daylight summer.
Skyline clear, veils of clouds' scatter.
Sunshine silhouettes placid and plenty
Sustain vivid space for dreaming beauty.
Sparrow sisters spirit chirp,
Scene engaging melody urp.
Semi-aquatic bullfrogs sing a cappella
Sight of festy aerial dragonfly’s gala.
Serendipity cast most timely,
Spontaneous lavish rain sublimely.
Smell of rain swaddles Nature finely.
Scintillating wet spatter collaborative.
Sun shines through raindrops weave,
Seamless hues, stretch of favorite colors mark,
Symbolic eternal life rainbow arc.
6/19/2024
Beauty
Beauty is so much more than the visual sensation of the palette of colors.
It is what we see will inspire and move our hearts in wonder and awe.
To take in and capture its essence into our Soul.
To hear magnificent sounds of nature, the inspiration of Music.
Sounds of baby laughter, a sigh of Love will help us to embrace this amazing life.
To feel the gentle touch of a loved one, the gentle wind blowing across our face.
A warm embrace of a stranger and the smile of those we meet.
The smell of food cooking.
Smell a field of flowers and the scent of a loved one.
To taste fresh spring water, sweet flavors of fruit, a relaxing coffee, tea and Chocolate.
When we savor all our sense at the same time, then beauty encompasses us and give us delight that we will cry in joy.
We see a book tattered but open it we see it’s outstanding beauty.
See person of unappealing view, but when we look inside that person we see their beauty and it transforms them into the most beautiful person ever.
colors of a different kind,
shapes our eyes can't see,
the magnitude of this blinding light, one day were meant to see,
beauty held in rainbows arms,
blooming faith in deepened sand,
blowing away the chaff of confusion, treasures found within his hands,
love and concept mingles together, embracing one and then the other,
ideas and knowledge running thru our spirits from one heart to another,
sharpened hearts against sharpened swords, war sets into place,
spiritual journey's in time of old, weathered hearts with hardened face,
melting chaos, love's long journey, pressing forward with due time,
for the true battle that wages war within us starts within our mind.
Form:
when the sky breathes poetry
through sepia-streaked silence,
and the earth reclines, listening
to the music of weeping wisterias~
blowing in the pulse of bleeding paradise,
I swallow sizzling stars
within cloaked scars,
comfortably blanketed
in self-woven wounds.
while you, the prisoner of my past,
keep revisiting empty journals,
lacking crystalline colors of comfort.
as crimson are the lines
across pages of pain,
and rhymes left unwritten~
stretching through margins of misery,
like flowers blooming amidst rain,
like fireflies flickering neon dreams,
oblivious to the darkness
that tastes like delicate storms,
gusting with glistening grief,
undressing dusks shivering
in blazing frost…
O tulip trinkets,
echoing ballads of brokenness~
I ache to surf through crooning chaos
in serene seclusion,
away from the fickle wind and
unseen waves, tortured by
twisted tunes of twilight.
I’ve long been the voice of love,
unsaid, intoxicated on life’s
whimsical woes~
a ghost of a wilted rose,
robed in restless redolence,
befriending demons within,
as shadows too
abandoned the healing
chambers of angst,
reluctant to sway
to chamomile chimes
of euphoric gardens
where roots of ruins
are watered with tanzanite tears…
perhaps the moon
was never mine to keep.
and in this distant affair,
I sing sparks of sorrow
to the soul of salt-kissed sapphires,
wishing the world could comprehend~
how peace is neither a lily nor a bird,
but a weathered tree
stuck in the forsaken
sands of felicity,
an eloquent ambience
where I thrive
in bittersweet solitude…
remember me ~
when clouds veil saffron
of the sanguine sun
and the zephyr forgets my name,
I remain the mistress, dressed in
distressed diamonds,
not a seeker of superficial lies
glazed in greed and gold,
I trace trembling chakras of torrents
with ink and sighs,
exhaling lunar-dust,
like a maestro of yearning,
perfectly flawed and unrefined,
still healing ~
tied to the faded lips
of an
enlightened constellation…