Long Defused Poems

Long Defused Poems. Below are the most popular long Defused by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Defused poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Life Is A Song

In diaphanous sapphire night,
the drizzle of argentine moon dust,
the existential epithet of 
dulcet melodic descencion, 
adorns the pearl-laced waves 
of the rolling sensuous sea, 
spread seamlessly before me, 
beyond the baroque shore, 
where I saunter with me
in the corridor of the musical mind, 
and follow the tune of soulful symphony. 

The rain-washed sparkling sky 
spreads the seamless spectrum 
of my opulent dreams, 
weaved as the tapestry of fantasy
with the lattice of chromatic imagery, 
the surreal strings design the splendor 
of the charismatic rainbow motif, 
arching over the halcyon horizon 
that beckons me to the concert of being, 
and feel fascinated the vibrato of life.

In the stalled turbid times, 
defused in the miasma of despair,
I turn the dented emotive impulse
into lyrical crescendo of concerto. 
On its sonorous whistling wings  
I fly in the rhapsodic sky of sonata, 
to the harmonic realm of afflatus, 
and realize the nascent notion 
that life is a song.


Premium Member Life Is An Opinion


Ebullient ecstasy cascades in the rolling valley of time,
changes tenor with the reflection of the chromatic sky 
on the parchment of delightful dawn and dulcet dusk. 
On the sensuous cerulean canvas the emotive artist 
paints the poignant panorama of the unseen dreams,
perceiving the vibrant essence so long ignored unfelt.
Life is then an opinion of euphoria called melody. 

 In diaphanous sapphire night,
the drizzle of argentine moon dust,
the existential epithet of heavenly descencion, 
adorns the pearl-laced waves of the sensuous sea, 
spread seamlessly before me, beyond the baroque shore, 
where I saunter with me in the corridor of the musical mind, 
follow the tune of soulful symphony. 

The miasma of surreal trance envelops in perception 
the dreams wafting from the obscurity of nowhere 
in the furrows within sands of time, past and future. 
With the multicolored strands of possessive passion
the mystique mind weaves the tapestry of belief, 
shrouding everything that seems dismally distant. 
Life is then an opinion of emotion called joy.

The rain-washed sky spreads the seamless spectrum 
of my opulent dreams, weaved as the tapestry of fantasy
with the lattice of chromatic imagery, 
the surreal strings design the splendor of rainbow motif 
over the halcyon horizon that beckons me to the concert of being, 
feel fascinated the vibrato of life.

In the river flowing to the seamless sea of eternity, 
the mariner mind sails on the waves of rapture, 
passing the debris of the denuded wasteland banks, 
across the broken bridges crumbling behind, 
to merge with the bay of bliss in the gleam of twilight, 
suspended on the tinged fringe of the sunset horizon. 
Life is then an opinion of acuity called beauty.

In the stalled turbid times defused in the miasma of despair,
I turn the dented emotion into lyrical crescendo of concerto. 
On its sonorous whistling wings I fly in the rhapsodic sky of sonata, 
to the harmonic realm of afflatus, 
realize the nascent notion that life is a song.

Accused

A woman in the store said she
Had falsely been accused.
The situation seemed to be
Not easily defused.

She claimed a sales clerk followed her
And looked inside her bag
To see if possibly there was
An item she did snag.

The argument was getting loud;
I couldn’t help but hear.
The back and forth was jarring
In the store’s chic atmosphere.

I paid and left – I’ll never know
The end of that dispute.
It made me wonder how I’d feel
With sales clerks in pursuit.

For profile victims have to boil
With anger to the hilt,
Just knowing others look at them,
Imagining their guilt.

That woman might be innocent
Or possibly, a thief;
But I’ll admit, not being her,
I walked out with relief.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sing The Song Now


“In the depth of mind where happiness gleams 
life is an immanent image called beauty.” – Quote by Poet


In translucent sapphire night,
the drizzle of argentine star dust,
symbolising the sequined epithet 
of existential melodic vibrant essence, 
adorns the pearl-laced waves 
of the rolling sensuous sea of being, 
that spreads seamlessly before me, 
beyond the baroque shore, 
where I saunter with me
in the corridor of the musical mind, 
trace the tune of soulful symphony. 

The rain-washed sparkling sky 
in the chromatic trellis of the setting sun, 
spreads the seamless spectrum 
of my diaphanous dreams, 
weaved as the tapestry of fantasy
with the lattice of sanguine imagery. 
The surreal strings design the splendor 
of the charismatic rainbow motif, 
arching over the halcyon horizon 
that beckons me to the living concert, 
makes me feel fascinated the vibrato of life.

In the stalled turbulent times, 
defused in the miasma of despair,
I turn the dented emotive impulse
into lyrical crescendo of consciousness concerto. 
On its sonorous whistling wings  
I fly in the perception sky of rhapsodic sonata, 
to the harmonic realm of euphoria, 
and realize the nascent notion 
that life is a song I should sing now.

Premium Member Seijaku


Broken promises churn my heart, 
like what the desert whirlwind does 
to the desolate dunes. 
I can’t calm down my twirling turbulence,
pent-up rage shatters the shield of forbearance, 
turns me into discarded debris of indignity 
within the intolerant ignominious abyss. 

The sanguine awareness then finds patience,
the candle of inner strength, 
ignited as the guiding light 
in the web of exigent intolerance,
entangling the essence of my muddled mindset.  
Amidst the commotion of turbulent life,  
the alchemic anchor of calmness 
prevents me from being swept away 
by the coercive currents of compulsion, 
enabling me to approach life challenges 
with composed and collected altered attitude. 

I discover the innate fortitude,
that braces me in the  tempest of life,  
builds the bridge that fosters discernment, 
appreciative of the deviant thought perception, 
constructing entwined resilient connections.  

The mystique mist shrouds my penultimate path 
to the time future, fading in the obscurity. 
In twilight zone the sunset swansong echoes
the tune of forlorn spent life, silhouetted still
against the tranquil skyline.
The shards of shattered hope on dejected drift, 
fly like birds with colors to the restful nest 
across the calm canvas of the setting sun,    
where the remnant rays of revival survives,   
designing the last latent lattice of dream, 
that swathes the sanguinity sphere of my listless life.

The rain-washed sparkling sky 
spreads the seamless spectrum 
of my opulent dreams yet to be dreamt, 
embroidered in the tapestry of fantasy
with the charisma of chromatic imagery, 
where the surreal strings design the splendor 
of the resplendent rainbow motif, 
arching over the halcyon horizon 
that beckons me to the concert of being. 
Fascinated, I feel the vibrato of vivacious life. 

In the stalled turbid times, 
defused in the miasma of despair,
I turn the dented emotive impulse
into the lyrical crescendo of concerto. 
On its sonorous serenading wings,  
I fly in the rhapsodic sky of sonata 
to the harmonic home of serene afflatus, 
and realize the nascent notion 
that life is a symphony.


A Response To Michelle Faulkner's Poem, Unstable

Knock knock knocking on heaven's door 
my knuckles are bleeding and still, 
you ask me, nothing more 
Thick red solid walls erected between us 
you labeled me and shipped me off to another Country ...
leaving me with nothing more 
Defused, deprogramed, debugged, I walk away 
from your locked-in displaced shrug
I am held in a makeshift prison of my own,  
though I tell you everything, you tell me nothing more; 

Knock knock knocking on Satan's door 
Sanctimonious roars from a placating hypocritical God  
no Pious gesture on my part, I am not conforming 
this misshapen piece of bread you offer me 
doesn't feed my aching belly, 
I show you everything I'm feeling while you, 
escort me, out the door.  

ps I wish to thank Michelle for speaking such cantillate truth.

Dream Weaver

Shallow strands; slumber's token
Veiled words subconsciously spoken  
Dark window to inner being broken
Pent-up desires from entomed depths awoken

New pathways from psyche's cluttered road pared
Surrealistic vistas sculpted, with well-worn peaks paired
Imaginative streams by conscious's reservoir snared
Nightmares flood overloaded circuits, subliminal fears bared
Fantasies flow through refurbished conduits, delightful impulses shared


Time's burdensome mantra refused
Spatial limitations are excused
Yesterday's sorrows, actions with today's sense of urgency infused
Today's sentiments, yesterday's deeds are synchronically fused
Tomorrow's presentiments are tethered to present cares then defused
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Compromise Is the Master Stroke

I'm off to a dreaded confrontation
Or at least that's what it would seem
Funny how the mind can conjure up
Scenarios that are always extreme

Never thinking middle of the road
Only thinking black and white
I've already decided ahead of time
These guys are in for a fight

The time arrives, the meeting begins
It's all very cordial and nice
Till soon we're down to the nitty gritty
Make my stand and roll the dice

Much to my sheer and utter surprise
It was greeted with positive feedback
Amazed and rendered quite speechless
It definitely defused my attack

So the bottom line to all of this
Think positive, it will rub off on folks
Negativity always breeds negativity
Compromise is the master stroke

© Jack Ellison 2012
Form: Quatrain

Last Night's Secret

A sudden darkness veiled the world below.
Luna was defused by a shadowed sky,
giving cause for Earth to be wrought with woe.
Something strange caused the night to go awry
as a shroud covered moonlight's golden glow.

My pulse quickened at the phenomenon.
I inhaled the floral scent of roses.
Snowflakes drifted over garden and lawn.
Like a fairytale that one composes,
it was a magical scene to dwell on.

Stars were dancing around the somber moon.
The brightest ones provided enough light
to see them twirling to a rhytmic tune.
What a spectacle I witnessed tonight;
stars waltzing and snow in the month of June!

With drooping eyelids, I soon fell asleep,
awakened when dawn's fingers touched my face.
At the window I sat, ready to weep.
Of snow and roses, there was not a trace.
The tale of last night I'll secretly keep.



December 1, 2020
Quintain - Sicilian Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet

Premium Member Oliver O. Howard " the Christian General "

Respect in uniform
A man with respect
Major Oliver O. Howard
One of the US Armies best
 
A courageous soldier
With an order to follow
Dis-quell the Indian Wars
So there be peace tomorrow
 
Born in Maine
His dad died when he was nine
But this little boy
Turned out oh so fine
 
At nineteen, he graduated
A young man, already well rated
1854 Military pass
This bright young man, 4th in his class
 
Time advances to the Indian Wars
To do his duties, soldier sworn
To quell the fighting, peace be ours
Chief Joseph and the Indian colors
 
His task achieved, tho Indian losses
Orders he served, from Washington's bosses
Chief Joseph, from his lands he was moved
To Oklahoma, situation defused
 
1894 the retirement of he
Major General what he rose to be
Universities and College named in his name
This quite amazing soldier of Military Fame

http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/native-americans.php
 
 
" When i heard about this gentleman, it desired me to write. Unknown to me he has actually   
been in the historical background of one of my poems, and an ancestor of one of our poets "
Form: Rhyme

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