Long Corpuscles Poems
Long Corpuscles Poems. Below are the most popular long Corpuscles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Corpuscles poems by poem length and keyword.
Line of inquiry: “What is that awareness by which each body-mind feels alive and becomes aware?” : Unseeking Seeker
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within mitochondria of every cell
in all forms exist reverential eye clear
pupil of ALL is sightless, soundless, spaceless
luminous is it
not fluid or corporeal is awareness
untainted, animated, transparent joy ~
lux connects beings in constant endeavour
equilibrious
in progressing silence Might communicates
signals, as mind releases its endless talk
intellect seconds to observe faculty
sense cosmic iris
underlying innocence moves, stillness proves
free from thought, effortlessly aligns context
outside of psychic perception of need-want
creates sensations
gifts directives precise, instant by instant
movement apprehended, perfect momentum
depends on subjection of mentality
temperature change
nervous system feels minute temperature
variations, as messages to perform
actions or remain inert, organs respond
synchronise lung-heart
as persona becomes tacit, Fashioner
harmonises mitochondria contents
vibrations resulting in moot wave functions
awareness arise
noble energy moves across density
grey brain matter, corpuscles, marrow, nerves, bone
containing cellular helixed coding, tones
transforms or spirals
regulated breathe carries electronic
intra and inter cosmic imperatives
Eye of eye will frequent atomic sequence
language translates waves
herein lies I's retina causality
relating to humans through infinity —
life-rotation-death cycles mystical grasp
Unrelenting vast
how humans utilise power effective
depends on maturity of crown to bow
processing acknowledgment of SourceLight
exculpate it is —
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Placed : 7th
Premier Contest
April 26
follow the poolside shadows
Venus of Delphi
daughter of bitter waves
peek through the peephole
of my glaucous thorax
open your byzantine eyes and
spurn your locomotor ataxia
one glance at our vitreous hands
– a sight for blind sore eyes
one brush of our riveted lips
– gone astray in malformations
one ponderous confession later
– immaterial as a shadow of the lash
let the weeping corpuscles lie
swarm and jostle in the grotto
rattle and blather away our days
I’ll wait for your recriminations
fall asunder under your touch
fastidious in my entomology
let the bouquet glide downstream
the scytheman is still in his kingdom
then we rejoice in endless daze
the lingering beaten with bravura
It is time for natural blossoming
Into each other’s blood corpuscles
It is the time for the chocolate melting
Under the heat of chaotic muscles
Come and put out the light
It is the spring in your Alps
Fascinating is the dynamite
Red flowers in our pulse
What is the matter darling
Will you defy all red signals
Your hemoglobin has picked up rhythm
Crazy looks in your petals
Oh, oh, it is the eternal generator
Of fire in love and sword in passion
Those little winged cupids in every letter
Of your lyrics in impish invitation
It is the churning time of our existence
It has come in the surges of fusion
Of quivering and pulsating ascendance
Towards the patterns of swirling blue explosion
The love of mine Valentine
I know my time with its plough
Seeks to combine the rivers yours and mine
As the cupid pulls back the bow
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07/01/2017
The sunset whispers get together in the bowl
The electricity hands them over the momentum
The oranges in the soul a bit out of control
The golden darkness stirs the dormant venom
My horizons crumble in the pink petals
As you let all the birds fly into ...
My balance the toxic touch unsettles
In the inflamed heart beat just me and you
See dear how the red corpuscles crowd
In the crazy chocolate wafers in delight
Our ionised charges unleash aloud
The sparks as the prelude to the night
Tonight we will set free all chains
In compliance with the scarlet gravity
Perfumed storm must precede the rains
Following the deluge of the insanity
Beat by beat the pulls defeat all the dams
The water is in a purple rebellion
The universe tonight into our hands
The splattered sun calls for the stallion
The black and orange mingling in the two sounds
The million sparks bloom out from the two fires
The dance of the fire with the two heats unwound
The twilight music of the two tidal lyres
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March 27, 2018
For Picture This - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Based on Image 3
Coagulation Starter – 3-28-24
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Coagulation
Finally, my blood began to coagulate,
Flowing like insomnia
Between the wounds of dawn and dusk
When wounded memories drip pools of enigmas,
Fleeting gossamers of absolutes,
Drying into sticky puzzles.
Bloodied dreams wander labyrinths,
With no exits,
Leaving spatters of millstones
For ruminating relics to follow,
Thin images of wispy encounters
Fade
In lost chords of words,
Ghosts gel from gashes.
Impostors of reality
Spit rebellious clots into ruminating plateaus,
And phantoms,
To leave a crimson stain
On unwelcomed daylight and martyred Mondays
Stirring penance from clotting confessions.
Tourniquets unbound,
Veins transfused congeal in coalescence
As platelets and corpuscles gather yesterday
Into the flow, a cadence, blood pressure restored,
The pulse of reminiscence throbs
Memoirs course through venous vessels,
Then seek a place
To dream.
there …
your hand …
that exquisite, sexy little hand
I reach … oh so slowly
my index finger extended lazily
but with enigmatic intent
and subtle grace
(like Michelangelo's Adam on the Sistine Chapel ceiling ...
desperate for the touch of God)
I softly caress your thumb with it’s tip
and an electrical shiver follows
not static or reaction or even mild spark
but rather the gentlest of vibrations of skin rubbing skin -
Meissner’s corpuscles in their tiny dance -
our integument entanglement …
the hairs on the back of your hand stand up
and tell me, (when you don't pull away)
that you like what I'm doing -
that I may continue …
I increase my pressure just slightly, then slide
running my finger along the soft inside of your thumb
up and over the tip, pausing playfully at
your bright, fuchsia pink nail
then down the inside slant to the
fleshy notch there …
I run my fingertip tenderly back-and-forth
(with a similar motion and intent that I hope to
use in more secret places)
then I push it slowly into the space below
as you turn your hand over, palm up …
the ends of your fingers tremble and quiver
and I know you're anticipating me -
wondering what is next ...
I pause for a moment, to let your mind spin
then I trace around the edges -
up and over each finger
and down between their spaces
pressing on the warm skin that connects them
and when I reach the base of your pinky
I softly … slowly … tenderly -
with the delicious care of a first kiss,
work my fingertip to the sublime soft-center of your palm
first making tiny, kinetic circles there
and then … writing naughty words in cursive -
scribing, in love's language,
all the things we'll soon be doing ... together …
as a final, personal touch
(because I know how much you love it)
I withdraw my hand and put my finger to my mouth …
when it's sufficiently shiny
I return it to your palm
and make a final, sweet, sexy circle of damp -
a proper period to the torrid tale I've
been writing there -
the wild story of what we'll soon be sharing
in amorous appendages …
soft, impassioned skin …
warm sighs ...
and moonlight.
Tim had entered the state of a corpse while
the chorus assaulting his purulent soul festered
Callouses on his corpus callosum pretended
there was no connection just chaos exhumed
Corpuscles splattered astray ice in his vessels
in the same vein of demise as so often before
He stood at the pons dissected in cerebellar
disconnection nauseous detached from brain’s stem
A sequence of rapid succession seceded left overs
Hailstorms of concussion hailed hell freezing over
Snow gathered fast only that the crystals were black
Thunder and lightning electrocuted his passions
A squall out of nowhere invited rapidly raging squalor
Violent tempest arrested in sunken emotions
Blistering blizzards invaded the shelter of survival
Flooded with emptiness he crouched in the corner
of his neuro-toxified mind complicit of oblivion
He had tried the loneliness of a desolate desert
but then sand storms seeped through his pores
poured increasing abrasions towards ashes from dust
A vicious assault broke all defences’ containment
as he listened to the dispatch of an exploding skull
Caustic corrosion dangled from sockets of blinding sight
Tim attempted to drown himself at the oasis only
to find the mirage dispersing convoluted conclusion
But whirl winds returned him to the point of departure
He lingered at the crux of pontificated bridges
crucifix in hand and resolved to jump from the past
Ready to escape from judgement he stumbled and
fortunately the overpass had collapsed due to the storms
Faced with the murky slate of destruction he
gathered the debris and waited for fate to abate
04th October 2018
Imagine that you could alter reality:
and let your imagination reduce you
to a tiny, itty-bitty, microscopic cell;
inside the human body.
Your world would be a strange one indeed:
reduced to a single cell,
afloat in a sea of plasma;
teeming with white hunter-cells,
and blood-red corpuscles.
Now, let yourself shrink down even further;
to an atom, complete with a halo of electrons
that is paradoxically attracted and repelled
by the core of your being.
A singularity,
you're a microscopic universe
onto yourself.
You're now the foundation of reality,
an essential building block of life.
Yet, you're so infinitesimally small,
that you're oblivious to
the big picture;
which, but for you, would not exist.
Oh my goodness,
what humans are willing to bare
to attract...
Beyond, the mock and mocking bareness
lies the convoluted angst of man,
pleasure seeking, in a self gratifying
wallow of excretions.
The need to roll…down the road…in the hay
to move like corpuscles down
the multitudinous arties of man.
Some draped in fuchsia, an orchid’s blush
with legs so long they make an ass of themselves.
Others tricked out in comfy cotton boostieas
breasts jiggling like jello, mounds of molded eye candy
firm, run-ready calves, taunt and on point
strut
ready to rut
on stiletto heels
still primed for and pandering to
the sought after alpha male.
The androgyny of the 21st century male-dom
making marking the target frustratingly
diff I cult
these drooping, wilted, round shouldered
bow-legged, net walkers seem unlikely sperm donors
for the next generation beyond the pale.
And as their lives settle in to settle down
in the whirlwinds of climate change
oil shortages, constant alpha stripping
further neuters the human potential
as the haves, feed the have nots
into the furnaces of endless war
the heard is culled………
Didn’t you keep waiting for me my dear white page
The cool touch of my pen on your virgin face
First fond touches and then the crimson sweet bite
A grand game to make you blossom in excitement
The cool touch of my pen on your virgin face
It makes you restless as you feel pulsations of
A grand game to make you blossom in excitement
Still you hesitate to unfold your latent ocean
It makes you restless as you feel pulsations of
The pen moving on your impatient corpuscles
Still you hesitate to unfold your latent ocean
And the charge goes on deepening purple urges
The pen moving on your impatient corpuscles
It creates keen flowers of electricity in your water
And the charge goes on deepening purple urges
What is born we may call it a star studded sky
It creates a keen flower of electricity in your water
On a peak a clasping dance of aroused intellect
What is born we may call it a star studded sky
Come, let's mingle the starlight in the blossoms we make
On a peak a clasping dance of aroused intellect
First fond touches and then the crimson sweet bite
Come, let's mingle the starlight in the blossoms we make
Didn’t you keep waiting for me my dear white page
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27 May, 2017--Contest: Form P --Sponsor: Broken Wings
Form: Pantoum --Theme: Page