Long Contouring Poems
Long Contouring Poems. Below are the most popular long Contouring by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Contouring poems by poem length and keyword.
in the corner
of smoke filled pool hall
you sat peering
as you quaffed another beer
your umber eyes
locked in the beryl
of mine
lost temporarily
in the depths
you flashed a smile
that seemed to glow
beneath the dimmed lights
my eyes unlocked
in a downward shift
as i couldn't help but notice
the shimmer of gold
contouring your neck
its intricate design
delicately detailed
of the Christ child
as he hung
on splintered wood
when he died
in vain for our sins
my heart skipped
with the soft music
in the background
you approached
hands extended
I trusted in God,
then in you
a whirl around
as months flew by
like fists in rage
now memories flash back
in my wondering;
would you have worn
splintered wood instead
for salvation of your sins?
8/23/2019
One Hundred Thirty Six Words Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
Watching snowflakes settle
into a large earthenware pot,
frozen fractals grow.
The snow is ridged into serpentine shapes
and the humped backs of deep sea monsters.
Bobbled ice forms dimple and peak.
Is this a strange art, a contouring
or a sculpturing that takes form
by the act of watching?
Why is it not the snow
deep and crisp and even?
If you stare at a cat
it will look away, wash its paws.
that’s called ‘displacement behavior’.
People are not much different.
There’s a force behind a concentrated stare.
Cats know something about watching snowflakes.
You have to respect that kind of power.
Containers come with different purposes
as they hold, wage, measure and engage.
From stone walls to fragile shells,
blood vessels to cage to idea.
Containers come with different protections and methods for treasures to unveil.
Each of a different purpose and story to tell.
Holding memories, secrets, or material, spirits- preciousness,
like a ring of a bell, a bluuurpbglllpll-
vomit of a puppet, a ouija for a demon of Hell.
In wooden chests, treasures lie hidden,
till the creak of hinge is bidden.
Whispers of history, stories in books, either Holy, educational, entertaining,
mysterious or forbidden us.
The brain to house memories,
where they belong,
the skull for the brain,
to help keep harm from,
or as a placeholder
for grey matter placebo for some.
The vessel of a porcelain teacup,
holds warmth and comfort, it's mold to stand
and deliver, as your lips gingerly quiver, bracing for
impact, careful it's hot, you lily liver!
Aww yes, sipping nature's elixirs
with each delicate sip,
in its delicacy, (pinky up sophisticately)
we find wisdom's mold to behold, pattern,
symbology, continuity, ingenuity, bounty,
Thrift Store Old Lady looking at you look at her.
antiques like security.
Aaarg matey!
A ship sails the vast, uncharted sea,
bearing straits of discovery, to arrive in one piece and enjoying the ******* luxury.
Contouring the wind's sweet glide.
A private plane, a non fossil fuel of the Elites,
a vessel of travel and privilege,
reaching for the sky, off to Little St. James,
though Hell is a contained container,
and Hell is from here to Eternity.
Continued....
Shadows
Silhouettes, shades of night
Obscure the hope, the heart, the right
Murky doubts, floating silent
Quiet as a mouse, abiding discreetly
Spiritually tumbling into the melancholic
Flames of a burning, breathless
Mourning, grief unburied, dreary
Dreading the moment…
Shoveling darkness over a casket
Dusk falls carefully, blackening
Edges of gloom –
Feelings, desolation growing
Grieving for the yearning,
Pouring out the autumn tears
Breaking through the light, insights
Whispers of dusk crying out in shapes
Outlines of death, skeletal ashes
Passing into the presence
Past weeping, wailing, howling for hope
Wiping away the tears, burying
Fear with the crisp, cool mornings
Edged with auburn and scarlet, embers
Alive, awakening brisk feelings, o’er and o’er
Painting the chestnut somber, urgency
Dejection in the sculpting…
Shadows arranged on the earth
Birthing a feeling, a passion
Contouring the loss, the fatality
Blending embraces, naked kisses
With the miracle of healing that arises
From faith, despite the dark, telling signs
Emerging from the twilight, evening glows
In the breathless blaze, sparks
Stars and moon creating their reflections
Amid the nocturnal pleasures
Erasing all the despondency of night
So everything in life feels better, feels right
As the shadows fade into dawn’s delicious light
Beauty Of Night Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
Entered Contest: November 13, 2022
The beauteous rainbow, which we admire
mirrors chakras seven in body-mind
and if for this truth, our heart does aspire,
we must first get rid off thought forms that bind.
From root red, sacral orange, then yellow,
illumines the navel and heart is green,
radiating love and bliss beats mellow,
whilst blue is the hue that adorns throat’s sheen.
Third eye radiates colour indigo
contouring violet at our crown’s crest
and if erst fears and desires we let go,
we act no longer at ego’s behest.
Let’s explore oh hermit, the world within ~
Tranquil silence is the way to begin
03-February-2023
The sun shines through my soul today,
Contouring the shape of my glory,
Exposing the jagged that once was a smooth,
Exposing every piece of my story.
My portrait of psyche, silhouetted in black,
Stands, proudly showing all that I feel,
All that I think about all that I’ve done,
From a happy to a tormented surreal.
And my soul disregards the ignorance of folks,
Folks who don’t understand me.
Those folks who think my soul must be insane,
Enduring these wounds to be free.
Yep, my soul is ablaze for all of today,
No hiding, exposed by the sun.
The sun showing my me that’s all that I am,
A broke soul just wanting some fun.
Awarded 2nd in Contemporary poetry contest
By the grave I saw blacken snow flakes
Lightning flashed as I witness
Drawn down from blacken purple skies
Burst of brilliants, winter blast snow blind
Upon a midnight electrics static,
you came gently clanging
Deep into that darkness changing, snow blind
To warn me about the steady
That incremental isocheim - that incremental isocheim
Death shall bring trends
Eagerly I looked for tragedy, wintertime
The festivals alteration adjusting
The dynamics brought such sorrow, snow blind
I have dreams of flows misting snow men and women kissing
I crave the coolish, changeable climate
The cyclic cold snap contouring
Take thy gruel hot coal from out my heart
Come stand wit me twit the freezing blizzard
Come dear heart
Much I marveled the integrated icebox
The snow-covered snowplow steadying shoveling
So inviting is the thought…
To be frozen with me come not see will be so kind
If together we be 2 frozen lovers just snow blind
1/29/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
You asked me who my favorite artist is,
I find the work of the painter in my archive.
The framed landscape of embedded auburn meadow,
the pathway draped in leaves turned to amber flowers.
The reeds of wooden fence dance away to the horizon,
marking the trail of emotion fading to infinity, I follow.
The flaming sunburst sky live in vibrant silence,
absorbed by the translucent clumps of golden cloud.
A lone bird spreads wings above the tinged canopy,
taking my forlorn mind to the sky of sapphire, I fly.
The lively portraits of nameless radiant faces,
ebon birthmark painted on the right cheek always.
The feminine beauty magnifies in chromatic stillness,
permeating me with the flow of passion, I feel.
The effervescent faces flashing on the satin canvas
with the flexed lips contouring the rose petal smile,
takes my mind through the floral lattice of memory,
enticing me with your faraway grace, I still adore.
You may ask who the painter is,
I would humbly say it is me.
November 21, 2019
Contest : Your Favorite Artist
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
Cream of fire, liquicksilvered star incendiaire,
leaves imprint for the World to see,
hangs hook on the sky, suspended
freeze framed to sprawl spidered vein, drip thickly ordinance, molasses covers the mind.
Bismolling rinse, a curse of the eye,
the Hephaestus tear, cascading bull, work
of Virgoan theme in paradox of shift of paradigmatic-meticulous-metaCoolty-times divison sine.
The Dragon lies in wait to devour. Her child
come early, premature, but at a late hour.
Humanity
sways in union of hypnotic wave,
like blown sands of the sea.
Flood hits the shore, blurring lines and s
contouring laws to grapevine, to wine and dis stain
in the presses of drunken powerlines,
rolling blackouts and rape of con-fined.
A body without a head,
full on moons of zombie
with channel locks and no native neem.
Silence, breathes. Darkness, weaves.
Disbelief is blended with terror and
chaotivity.
For unity alone does not a true path portend.
Hiccups, reshuffle, bend.
The devil's dream come full circle,
sheep to tend, wolves to defend.
His time is short, now,
get ready for the "shake up", my friend.
In the existential dualist domain,
irreducibly implanted in intrinsic psychic arena,
we breathe as God’s generous gift
the divine breath of the enactment life,
as the source of congruent performing creativity.
The unwavering faith molds the mind
for its inward journey to enlightened eternity,
the ordained life turns into a turbulent river,
the currents of contemplation interlace,
and carry the elements of innate reflection.
The ultimate merger with the serene sea,
contouring the receptive calmness of the soul,
manifests in the final amalgamation
with the aspects of infinite euphoria,
sublimating the essence of mental motif.
The soul shines in the spiritual glow,
reflecting the patina of perception lotus,
as self-searching entranced odyssey ends
in the singular sanctum of the supreme,
the revelation revives the acuity appreciation.
The spiritual passage across perception stratum,
achieved by introspective dissolution
of the rigid notions through transcendence,
dissolves the division of outside-in and inside-out,
virtuous bliss suffuses as we bilocate our awareness.