Long Da vinci Poems
Long Da vinci Poems. Below are the most popular long Da vinci by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Da vinci poems by poem length and keyword.
soft smile
long while
her gaze
gained praise
mystique
physique
svelte pose
like rose
splendour
longed-for
oh, yes
timeless
15 April 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Notes: The Mona Lisa is an oil painting by Italian artist, inventor, and writer Leonardo da Vinci. Likely completed in 1506, the piece features a portrait of a seated woman set against an imaginary landscape.
In addition to being one of the most famous paintings, it is also the most valuable. Permanently located in the Louvre Museum, it is estimated to be worth an impressive $800 million today. (credits: mymodernmet.com)
SUPER HERO
Owned non parallel competence
with intensive intelligence
attained success in excellence.
My Idol : Super Hero.
An illustrious Scientist:
Physicist Chemist Botanist:
Zoologist Geologist:
Marvelous scenario.
Tornado-Storm predictor.
Designed first helicopter.
First Robot Planner and Maker.
Genius lively fellow.
Hero of Renaissance
Charismatic on elegance.
All rounder in performance.
Dazzling blazing with halo.
Great Grand Artist astounding .
Famous Architect amazing.
Wonderful on skillful sketching.
Da Vinci Leonardo.
04/17/17
Re edited on 09/21/22
Superhero or Supervillain
Contest by Robert James Liguori
Have you ever seen a pair of Nine West Folowe Pumps in Red Blooms Floral - or ever held a feathery pair? They offer the pure pleasure of perfection.
You can see them popping up lately, in streetwear silhouette, matched with Dolce & Gabbana’s floral-print leggings, making a duet of blooms—petal upon petal, like a garden in motion, or paired with the new, high-waisted barrel leg jeans, lending a flash of elegance, a bright flourish against dull denim.
They’re visions, wrought as if by the hand of Michelangelo, who once from marble freed David’s pose, or da Vinci, whose brush summoned the Mona Lisa’s secret smile.
In form, they’re d’Orsay cut, sporting curves as deliberate as the Sistine vaults arch. The stiletto heels rise with the ambition of a cathedral’s spire - neither too proud nor too meek, but balanced, like the symmetry of a butterfly’s painted wings.
Upon their surface, blood red blooms unfurl - petals as vivid as spring’s first flush - each blossom a testament to an artist’s hand, in riots of color and romance that dance with the same spirit as a flowerbed at dawn.
No flaws mar their making: the stitchings are true, the fits precise—as if tailored by the muses themselves. Each pair offers its own unique foliations, bespeaking the freedom of a craftsman’s careful art.
Lastly, of course, they’re marvels of harmonious function, lightly cradling and lifting each step - comfort and glamour aren’t adversaries here, but partners in making each step a sonnet and each stride an artist's brushstroke.
Now, maybe you aren’t into fashion - perhaps you’re a male - oh, poor you, I’m sorry, but maybe, just maybe, in times of chaos, you long for the pleasure of inexpensive perfection.
.
.
Songs for this:
Glamour Girl by Louie Austen
This is what falling in love feels like by JVKE
My boss had an aubergine suit, white cuffed shirt,
albeit passe', I'm better than you, the persona hurt,
mine was midnight blue, star of stage screen and radio,
covered the attributes, abs and pecs, above and below.
Now Da Vinci green reminds me of where I've been,
to Paris, Rome, Florence and many a mystical scene,
the butterflies flew, hovered, in shades of indigo,
or maybe cobalt blue, shimmered, went with the flow.
English grey, ethereal, fifty shades so they say,
charcoal mist when the spooks came out to play,
then yellow with buttermilk peeping thro' trees,
those corals edging out between turquoise seas.
My blood spilled crimson, ebbing away it was said,
I'd like to think, modestly, that I was well read.
Sibling love is special and sacred
Very unique as mothers make it be
Starts with birth of children to moms
And exists till the very end of life
Sibling sisters in their love are overt
Happiness of all is their very goal; set
Sibling brothers caring is overt too
They act swiftly; in times of distress
Siblings cry at will; laugh with no end
They care and willingly share all time
They readily dare and willingly bear
Fight when helpless; give up anyway
Born separate; yet DNA is the same
Eldest and youngest are rank special
The big brother is always big fellow
And the youngest one is always dear
Bodies are different as sister and brother
The hearts are the same and love filled
They are born in turns at different times
But the chemistry is matched perfectly
Just decades ago in joint families
Siblings numbered 5,6,7,8,9 & more
But off late it is just 2 and 3 or only 1
The nuclear families have made it so
Siblings go through thick and thin of life
Be there sorrow; or be there happiness
Whether a birthday or an anniversary event
A wedding or ceremony they show up together
Union of parents put them on mother earth
It explains the blinding love for mom and dad
This da Vinci code made their binding bonded
Siblings thus lived through a generation of love
As time soon came to a pass, with fleeting age
Retirements, ailments and loneliness followed
The order of birth is just not followed in death
End is inevitable for all sometime some day
My youngest sister passed away last summer
And a part of me was lost forever, overnight
She was the last dear sibling to be born: alas
She became first sibling to die; and to mourn
During her birth her dad was not by her side
On death her siblings could be not at her side
Bitter memory we all will carry till the very end
As siblings failed and for once for all time!
Corona hit the world and hit very hard
It killed some in my family and my sibling too!
It destroyed relationships and families too
It separated many parents and children too!
It was in smudged oil pastel;
Soft to the glare and rough to the delicate brush of flesh.
In your eyes were the starry night skies that Van Gogh never let go.
But above all: your gait, your stride, your purposeful amble held the life I used to know.
His face moulded like clay;
And how I remember the faces he pulled,
That could even make Mona Lisa give us a smile.
Now that I see his profile set in stone I realise da Vinci can't ever resurrect a faint hint of the face I used to know.
It's just like he said - the melting clocks.
Dripping, gathering, forming into black pyramids of every thought he ever had.
I wonder whether a face saves the user of its past life;
Or is it like Picasso always said?
The portrait split into a million faces of every person who wore it.
One in chalk, one in charcoal and a luminous one blotted by a felt tip pen.
In every one of these is the face of you that passes in the streets and carves a river through my cheek.
I know only one of you exists in the portrait but I have to say, from far away, in a world that I cannot view,
I spied on you and swear I glimpsed the face of the man I used to know.
The real-life picture of mom,
hanging in the neat and cosy living-room
gleams like the smile of Mona Lisa;
her hazel,cheerful eyes radiate
when there isn't enough light to compensate,
her brown hair matches the red gardenia
in the rosy,intrinsic background,
hiding a mistery yet to be found..
If Leonardo Da Vinci created that painting
to satisfy his self-gratification,
I invent words,in a different time,
to describe her gracefullness
with a deserved adulation;
a mother who never achieved great awards
or prouded herself of independence;
love,patience,endurance and indisputable faith
were the virtues that made her so unique,
and none of those implied criticism...
Very often when I'm overtaken by sadness,
she towers over me like an impregnable fortress:
with the confident smile of a Mona Lisa,
so spontaneous without a sign of malice...
to break the silence of an unspoken voice;
to inspire and motivate me again with thoughts
that lay dormant until they awake again
on the battered waves of my imagination...
I celebrate my beloved and that which made her
The impassioned supercharged tenderness of her heart
The inexhaustible treasures of warmth and compassion
The strength that in horror retains beauty and clarity
I celebrate her heart. I celebrate her heart.
I celebrate my beloved and her spiritual masters
Leonardo Da Vinci, Monet, Michelangelo, Jesus
Her gentle wisdom, heavenly softness and ethereal majesty
Her mind focused on the exhalted and beautiful
Her unrelenting passion for the eternal
I celebrate her soul. I celebrate her soul.
I celebrate the sun and the earth, the rain and the trees
The cold perfect magnificence of the universe
The enlightened ecosystemic wisdom of nature
The warm luscious gentleness of woman's body
I celebrate the world. I celebrate the world.
I celebrate human will and individuality
The glorious co-creator within the universe
The seeker of justice and knowledge
The craftsman and fountainhead of progress
I celebrate mankind. I celebrate mankind.
I celebrate my beloved, for she contains all that is beautiful
And in her nature, God and civilization produce the most glorious consummation known to man
That reconciles pieces and gives a unified paradise.
Awaken, my soul, to the majesty of the universe.
Awaken, my soul, to the greatness of human spirit.
Awaken, my soul, to the glory of God.
Awaken, my soul, to the beauty of my beloved.
Always stirring my peace with fun.
Anger and I, truly dear friends,
I’m silent when her talk ascends,
But this time it’s about my son.
He runs around when I say “stop,”
Always stirring my peace with fun.
Stopping at will when I say “hop.”
He mocks my rules, as I'm his son.
Like Da Vinci with a fresh wall,
Like Newton waiting apples fall,
Always stirring my peace with fun,
Until I say I'm truly done.
All is well—I love him a lot,
He is my life, no other thought.
Without his tricks, I’d lose my sun,
Always stirring my peace with fun.
Won the "Quatern - Old or New" contest by Joseph May
Is it wrong that I want
your arms around mine
Your fingers skating across my side
cheeks the color of red wine
My emotions give me away, and I can't hide
Your gaze
So intense, that it frightens me.
Kissing the nape of my neck softly
Your Hot breath lingers intoxicatingly
I want to breathe you in
But first please, Lift up my chin.
Compare my eyes to the blue of the ocean
Press your lips to mine...........
........in...........................
.............slow...................................mo........tion........................
..............
Remeber to Drink deep from within.
So that I can know what it is to truly love again
THE KISS
The kind that make angels sigh
So beautiful, it would make Da Vinci Cry
We are the reason for the Mona Lisa’s smile
Push the hair out of my eyes
stay with me to watch the sunrise
Is it wrong
that I want
to fall back to sleep again
So that this dream will not die in vain.
Form: