Long Cyclone Poems
Long Cyclone Poems. Below are the most popular long Cyclone by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cyclone poems by poem length and keyword.
When the wind took him
At high noon, everything seemed normal until it wasn’t. It started with.
A tiny whisper and hissing, then silently vanished, and the windowpane
started rattling and shaking uncontrollably.
Then a slow, monstrous windstorm abducted little Zyran like a rag doll.
Tossing him haphazardly into the air in the rotation of a tornado
The force was harsh, relentless, brutal, and unimaginable.
Snatching him upward as he went, twisting like a crying cyclone.
With no intention of releasing Zyran.
While debris started chasing after him, longing to be released.
The midday sky now becomes a barrage of missiles with no intent
Of subsiding, its raw terror, no one escapes.
The bombardment, sparring with the visceral, everyone must have felt.
Chaos and assault filled the air: flying material that made their ears pop.
Powerless to save Zyran, as they attempt to run to safety.
Zyran was now lost in the whirlwind.
The storm became a thick, roaring, shrouded presence, overshadowing
The entire landscape, until day turned, was pitch black.
Midnight howled, and we screamed, where is little Zyran?
Release him! Release him!
Howled, wailed, and reverberated its grim defiance to their plea.
For little Zyran?
While the turbulent and unrelenting imminent harm of a ruptured diesel
Pipeline: a sickening roar, as if an alien omen descended from the skies.
In search of lost souls.
The thunder clapped, then immediately released little Zyran, and stopped
It's havoc and shuts+
the heavens.
The screaming that followed was just as deafening.
As the Fury Man travels to the other side.
Winter's cool Nature
summer's heating atmosphere
earth's seasonal rhythm
sometimes shows anger
earth quake volcano cyclone....
rain washes body
provides real justice
a silent spectacular
gives chances to all
takes long time trial
judges from every corner
no, nothing can blame
all rules are prefixed
it's highest experience
though it's not human
Cycle of life
Ring of length in a circuit
Circle of life
Wing of strength in a conduit
Flow of life vibrates and pricks
Electricity you can feel in needles and sticks
A game of a life-winning prize
A frame displayed in a live, lifting size
Cycle of life in you that charges and chime
Tracks of moving rings that hinges, not grime
Girdle of life that showers and embrace
Dwindling up and down like growers of God's grace
Circling the tree of life is your power
Power of cyclone that defines the tower
Tower of faith, hope and light
Light coruscant in the heat of the night
Cycle of life that grows in you
Rhythm in a wheel, spinning in loops and never halt in you
A musky, burnt haze sears slowly into my nostrils.
The twilight hour pulses steadily, bathing stark walls in an eerie gloom.
Too awake to drift to sleep, yet too tired to drag my bones off this sinking mattress.
Thoughts cyclone like a tsunami within a withdrawn mind,
picking at scabs; the half-life of my darkness pools in red droplets.
Licking the wounds, the taste of metallic and melancholy blends.
Loneliness wraps its arms around my dejected shoulders like a winding sheet.
A howling wind rattles the paper-thin glass making up my windows,
as I ponder how I became the living dead.
Traumas poisoned my sanity,
slowly paranoia replaced reason,
delusions became my nightly bedfellow,
whispering sweet unpleasantries into tainted ears,
leaving hallucinatory trinkets in my repeating nightmares.
The world is shrinking, withering,
yet as I am becoming paralyzed by fear, I am unequipped to stop it.
Like a freight train derailed,
bellowing at full speed towards the inevitable,
I too am racing at the speed of light towards oblivion.
Drawn and quartered, criminal?
Can they stitch thee back?
Vapor, rise from brazen bull!
City, stain to black!
Corridor of mountain old?
Part of quite a pair.
Venture in on days a-cold?
Weather, ply thy ware.
O parda gull, thy high-set nest.
Wherefore went thy mate?
O for him who loved thee best!
Fare thee well, dead weight!
Crater, when you blossom.
What forces here collect?
Prayer, pay! Pain, play possum?
Golem, let's genuflect...
Well, young servant, where to kneel?
Nerves of blazing steel!
Serpent fangs in every heel!
Fortune, Fate, thy deal!
Yes, sir, and about us, what?
Dismay, dole, and doom!
Knife in each hand, make the cut!
Boulder, seal the tomb!
I tell ye well, cast knell as spell!
Bright alarum bell!
Darkness in the wooded dell?
Heaven, where starts Hell?
The borders aren't marked clearly.
You cannot see the door.
Fencepost builder, earn thy fee!
Action by the score!
Well, there it's not. O light a-wrought!
Metal, meddle, mott!
Scale of reptile, what you caught!
Last time that you fought!
Archery, thy torment.
A string to snap like jaws.
Wind a-northward, where you went!
Wound wrap deep in gauze!
Given pause, O tornado?
Dust devils, on the move?
Hurricane, which way to flow?
Cyclone, lot improve!
Typhoon, thy cycle spinning.
Monsoon, thy season! Come!
Ariadne, thy pinning!
O curtain of night, thrum!
Storm
The waves in the storm raged Pacific Ocean waves became
deep ravines and tall mountains; in the binoculars, I saw
an American hangar ship, its massive deck was glistering iron
swept of all human activities, this was not a day for wars
The bulk vessel was returning from Japan, where a cargo of
scrap iron had been unloaded, so she was not so heavy in
the water; a good thing when she ploughed deep down
a watery valley, and the sea high above the ship, came
crashing down, but up she came quivering like a wet dog
As she climbed the tall blue mountain; at the crescent
I saw the horizon before she dived into another ravine.
The captain sat strapped in a high chair, keeping an eye
on the gigantic waves, the ship had to face the cyclone
straight on and not were starboard or portside, it that
happened, it would spell disaster, a broadside wave
would tip her over and there, no one would alive to tell
a story in a bar, I made a thermos of coffee and meat
sandwiches for him
Walking up three flights of stairs was not easy, like falling
and falling down at the time and not having anything
to focus on, made me nauseous and nervous.
The captain sat in his chair, smoking cigarettes and looking
at the sea; is it not overwhelming, he said. Yes, it was
nature in its fury that made us feel humble.
Walking down backwards, couldn’t risk falling and diving
into a wall.
He is the Creator, the Author
The One who abides, lives on the inside
He is the designer, the inventor
He makes a way through every struggle
He lifts the spirit when everything
Seems like it is tumbling down
Leaving the heart so full of doubt
He is the Maker, the originator
The One who decides, the One who guides
Through spiritual darkness, through fears
That taunt, haunt – so daunting
He is the light that reflects all the wonder
The peace and the joy, the hope
For a world filled with His splendor and glory
He is the Way, the Truth and the Life
He stills the storms and calms the cyclone
His love is like a flood of inspiration
He colors the thoughts in bright illumination
Starry skies and rainbows with smiles
Preparing the heart, charming the soul
Growing with compassion and mercy
Grace that overcomes and always amazes
He is the One who I go to in faith
When I need someone who I know truly cares
Someone who will be a friend like no other
A friend who is closer than any brother
He opens my eyes to the beauty of a life
Filled with His insight, His creativity, His muse
The wonder of a love brighter than the sun
Because it is alive – it is breathless and wise
It is the brilliance of One who truly is the SONLIGHT!
I just want to look at you—
your blonde hair, poodle-like eyes,
that artistic nose,
and your soft, pouty lips.
You stir my heart like a cyclone,
stealing every thought I try to hold.
I want to hold your hand
and tell you—
I’ve kept this feeling buried deep,
like a hidden capsule in the soil.
I want to carry your burdens,
just to see you smile
a little brighter than before.
I want to pat your head
as you drift to sleep,
the way a mother soothes her child.
I want to trace your forehead,
to ease the worries you hide.
Will you look at me,
just once,
with those gentle poodle eyes?
I’d be happy
just to hold your artistic hands,
where our unspoken love
could finally be understood.
At the end of the world,
let it be just us—
laughing, forgetting,
leaning into each other’s warmth.
Just us,
and our love.
As heartrose epitaphs
swathe earthly echoes
with swelled up w a v e s
of spiritual sirens,
sea-fairies collide
with honeysuckle footprints,
traced by mint-green manta rays
along aquatic vessel of karma,
pumping a nascent wilderness.
In shawls of raven wind,
my silhouette is a blood moon,
mirrored in mermaid's emerald eyes
'neath dove grey midnight,
flowering from skulls
like love's last smoke,
as sciaphilic pulse evaporates ~
and rusty rains of remorse remain.
Grieving wanderlust
waltzes in my
metallic burgundy veins,
as butterfly oracles flip
and seraph's saga
swirls in a torrential topaz turmoil,
inscribing truths midst
ignited bohemian serenades.
Winding moonlight
around fingertips,
ivory threads of harp
dance in fluid palms
as liquid sun, floating in dew,
melts upon titanium tentacles
of wisteria archangels.
When water hymns
hibernate in silence
and marine prayers
s u r f in surging eagle blades,
I pirouette as
an amethyst-opal whisper of wound
in white-washed warrior skin,
for, every crimson corpse
is a thumping cyclone,
burning within sienna sand.
Ancient memoirs
cascade like
tea-lime a s h drops,
upon shipwrecked lotus leaves
where the third eye slumbers
in talisman petals,
and heartbeats bubble up
as breaths of a
windswept vagabond.
So, in fears of ruby-fire r a i n,
I'm forlorn and found,
my soul chakra is sewn
with stelliferous canopies,
and within dolphin lullabies,
jeweled life gently sways.
Homing perfumed stars
in tulip temple,
I'm Athena's spirit~
a wildflower d a w n,
fading beneath
samurai cloak of
caramel flakes,
unfurled from pistachio sepals,
my honey pink aura
cradles tiger-lily sunbeams
upon eyelashes,
as f a t e flutters...
in timeless,
watercolor wisps.
Your gaze, feasting upon my body,
Wakes up colourful butterflies
In my belly
And bids me,
To shed off anything mundane
That clings on to me
Merely to respond to its call!
Your gaze, Muse, so dark and deep
Tilts my balance
And bids my calm composure
To overflow,
Making of me, a cyclone,
Ready to assault a calm lagoon!
In their depths, I solely wish to be
Chilling as freely as would a nymph,
Overjoyed each time
Their flames would rest over my forms,
Thirsty and longing for when
You shall be able to satiate yourself
As carefreely as would an angel in love
With the sins that envelop my purity!