Long Descends Poems
Long Descends Poems. Below are the most popular long Descends by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Descends poems by poem length and keyword.
The grub is a fraud, let’s be honest and clear,
A beetle in diapers that gardeners fear.
He’s C-shaped and creamy, a squishy delight,
With a big orange head and a monster-sized bite.
He lives in the dirt, just a subterranean guest,
Turning your lawn into one giant mess.
He wakes in the summer, a tiny white speck,
By autumn he’s thick with a bull-sized neck.
When winter arrives with its icy-cold breath,
He tunnels down deep to avoid certain death,
Then returns in the spring for a root-heavy lunch,
Giving your fescue a satisfying crunch.
He treats your backyard like a five-star buffet,
Till the grass turns to brown and the green fades away.
But his life isn't always a feast in the shade,
The skunk digs a hole for a protein-packed snack,
And the robin descends for a mid-morning thwack.
If he avoids the beaks and the sharp, furry claw,
The Milky Spore bacteria might lock up his jaw.
Or nematodes find him—a microscopic crew—
To turn his insides into biological stew.
But if he survives every chemical spray,
He grows a hard shell and just flies far away.
In a world where the secretive shawl of night descends slowly,
And the sun, bashful, has retreated, incandescent wholly,
Imagine that in the celestial veil, tender you enfold me,
And I, like a leaf in the wind, let your desire to stream through me, freely.
Your arms, like two seas gathering me into their swell,
Carry me to undefined realms where you reign, and I, just as well.
Tremors of comets piercing the purity of spaces between stars,
Ignite heavenly flames, that grow, that burn, in the heart of night, as ours.
I feel how your arms, once unsure, now wrapped in strength's shroud,
Begin to dance, their fatigue crushed under the fervent heat, unbowed,
Until, weary from the terrible, wonderful meandering of longing,
They rest, white lilies, across the contour of my body, the lilac seas belonging.
The love that we've woven together to be everlasting,
Spills like a tranquil river into a dream silhouette, enticing, outcasting.
And you, upon this river of passionate adoration, are the captivating captain,
With me, your vessel of crystal, caught in the immensity of this floral explosion to happen.
Oh, my body, which you traverse as an old map filled with promise,
Where every whisper is an island, every touch, a pervasive river, honest.
Both explorers of this strange and delicate land,
We rise together, dragons with butterfly wings, over the night garden at hand.
And in the pearlescent glow of the stars that twinkle subtly,
We rest, two beings stretched across the infinite carpet of the universe, mutely,
Where countless galaxies weave the music of the spheres with quivering tone,
And my sigh, in accord with your silence, becomes prayer, becomes a song shown.
Skyline explosions alive with firework stars basking in the glory of the naked sky
As moonlight falls to the dawn's arise, bowing out I ask my love why?
Shadows cloud the view of the dreamer as mist descends
Yet even loving eyes' can no longer be blind to an obvious truth
The winding road eventually will straighten
The path reaching it's destination
I know now where our road leads
Past the signs and red lights that lit the way
The warnings I paid little heed or attention to
And now in the midsummer moonlight of our love's first kiss
I see the Sun breaking through
Her call sorrowful and reflective
Her words a painful serenade to lovers
She brings forth the birth of a new morn
With the old promises lost as the day is gone
For once her song is heard
The chorus echoing in the silence of our single moment
Tis the end of the road for you and I
I see you slip far in my tear
when my heart melts out of your view.
You drift to a land not near,
at my world's end I promised you.
As my dreams break, stray in despair,
I see you slip far in my tear.
My silent sorrow I can’t share,
the fall of pained clouds I can hear.
Though close I couldn't see you clear,
your shadow lies on my moist eyes.
I see you slip far in my tear,
where my love’s disowned debris lies.
With twilight gleam you passed me by,
loss of my day I couldn’t bear.
When night descends with weeping sky,
I see you slip far in my tear.
August 30, 2020
Contest : Soul Slipper
Sponsor : Kai Michael Neumann
I want to write something beautiful for you
How can when all I am is ugly?
Grab a mirror just to be sure
Reflecting sunsets and puppies
Can something common be bonny?
It is only in your eyes I am pretty
I see your bud in the dead of May
Without your gaze I’m rotting peat
You are the blue wisteria lasting days
These despised hands still tap futilely
You ask me why I need all these drugs
I tell my love they are veils to mad beauty
You tell me I’m adorable like sunsets
You tell me this puppy to finish a painting
In my bones, ugly see beauty the best
Your childish perspective is simply pure
My maturity is a cracked cynical beauty
With ego waking beauty descends
Art is just banging on the gate of Eden
With ego sleeping the drawbridge descends
Adam and Eve used to be lovely
A fig leaf won’t cover what’s ugly
Your beauty crosses bearing my words
You baptize the serpent in me
A pen will not ink away my sins
Child, bring me back to the Tree of Life
No drink of mine will make me lovely
Make my words innocent children
Hate not the sins of the father
There is no page for hate in beauty
No room for ugly me
for the children of the Holocaust, Ukraine and Gaza
Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails
when thunder howls
when hailstones scream
when winter scowls
when nights compound dark frosts with snow
where does the butterfly go?
Where does the rose hide its bloom
when night descends oblique and chill,
beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill?
When the only relief’s a banked fire’s glow,
where does the butterfly go?
And where shall the spirit flee
when life is harsh, too harsh to face,
and hope is lost without a trace?
Oh, when the light of life runs low,
where does the butterfly go?
I live in Arrubluc by the sea
much like the fabled Llareggub
made famous by Dylan Thomas
in the radio play 'Under Milk Wood'.
The land meets the sea here as well,
but it's a beachside town, beside the sea,
not a portside fishing village.
The sleepy town awakens, with a yawning sigh,
As the gentle kiss of dawn paints the sky.
Fiery orange and red, a sailor's warning cry,
Ignored by seagulls squabbling to fly on by.
The sun bursts up in the East through the ocean,
And the curved horizon rippled by waves in motion.
For the sea is seldom calm and exudes its emotion
Driven by wind and waves into pulsing commotion.
The waves and shore are coupled in embrace,
The sands are caressed lovingly with grace,
There's hiss and splash as waves surge through the flat space,
Leaving behind wedding veil trails of pure white lace.
At dawn, the sea birds gather in flocks on the lake,
To chat and squabble, to preen and feather shake.
The black swans cruise single file shoreward at daybreak
Grumbling and mumbling grunts, as they come in to take a break.
The gulls and terns, cormorants and stilts gather together
In groups of kin, returning like fishing boats to tether
Up on the shore for rest and relief from the weather.
They gather in a congregation, massing with friends of feather.
The surfers and fishers, come to worship the sea,
Paying homage to the beach and waves with heartfelt glee,
Frolicking in the swell, casting out their lines in a spree,
To catch the whooper waves on offer, and big fish all for free.
The surf club is alive with laughter and cheer,
Where mates gather for bawdy gossip and a beer
Every Friday afternoon as week's end draws near
Enjoying the ballads and shanties of the local balladeer
As twilight falls to night, and the moon ascends,
Darkness reveals its velvety somber blends,
The stars return to the sky, like eternal friends,
Amid the calm and peace as day's end descends.
Arrubluc beachside,
here beside by the sea,
says "Bye, Bye, Good Night"!
If the height of arrogance
Is overconfidence
You'll never worry about that with me
Because I'm as humble as they come
My name is Christopher
I'm a 27 year old man
Who indulges a poetic vice
Writing whatever he feels
And let's not get it twisted
I've got numerous flaws
My right eye isn't straight
I've got some extra fat
I get emotional when I watch sad stuff
Or lose dear friends
And I'm quiet to a fault
A shy man with social anxiety
Whose greatest revelation is poetry
Because it allows me to say how I feel
When I'd otherwise be at a loss for words
But there are many reasons
For me to be your man
I'm neither self-righteous
Nor judgemental
I'm neither self-centered
Nor condescending
I'm a gentle spirit
Riding the wave of life
My heart is full of love
Just waiting to be yours
My mind is full of thoughts
Just waiting to be shared
My soul is full of wisdom
From 27 years of life
I often sell myself short
Because I'm afraid I won't fit the bill
But as twilight descends on my youth
I'm hoping I can find someone
To spend these cold April nights with
Give me a chance
And you'll discover your own reasons
I should be your man
I'll cook your dinner with finesse
And be your 3AM ear
I'll give you foot massages after a hard day
I'll be your biggest fan
Behind only your parents
Our love will light the city on fire
And paint over dingy walls
And neither of us will be perfect
But in imperfection
The greatest perfection is found
Because we both know how hard love can be
And how much pain a broken heart is
But if we take our broken hearts
And tape them together
It'll be like they were never broken
All I ask is for one chance
And you to believe these reasons
For me to be your man
When I reached the surface I could smell their fear
From the depths of my dark they could sense I'm near
Their azure blue skies turned to darken sulky clouds
My cawing cacophony of followers, voiced their loud
Oh what pleasure it gave me knowing they'd find my goal
The darkened seeker sought, the last angel on their scrolls
Commotion, confusion abounded, taken to me was she
Silence was heard in her wings, now kneeling in front of me
Eyes of solemn righteous, now attract this leader of dark
As I stare into her pearly white, she views my wanting stark
To me now close in touch, thunderous clouds applaud my caress
Lightning strikes as I enter her world, in fall, her wings undress
Defrocked, taken forsaken, an incredible darkness now descends
Such power will emit when I surface again, can any race contend
I lived so many years in a stupor being capable of turning crystals green
Now I’m sober it’s different and naturally alters my state of mind
Experiencing a wider range of feelings than I felt before
Emotional intelligence can be an awkward companion though
With heightened emotions my feelings become more revealing
And revealing is exactly what it is and can lay you bare
In the past when limited to anger and lust it seemed an easier place
Supposedly strong and able to cope, with a glass permanently in hand
Just accepting not being able to see, or so it seemed
Life was a breeze back in those hazy days when totally blind with drink
Lack of confidence or shyness masked with a cloak of inebriated skills
Popular and sociable but really an island of loneliness in an ocean of friends
Any social gathering, I was the first through the door and the last to leave
Not sure when it happened but I started to dislike myself
Like a stereotyped actor playing characters I no longer believed in
Knowing where I was heading, I felt something seriously needed to change
Sometimes I wonder how it is that the new simple can be so complicated
There seems much more to balance with a supposedly clear head
But can your head be clear if your mind is cluttered with so many thoughts
Clarity appears to bring overthinking which sometimes doesn’t help
When the darkness descends it weighs much heavier than before
So I tell myself that I need to plant my feet firmly and embrace reality
But that’s hard to do when unsure of what or who you are
I don’t understand myself sometimes so how to explain to others
I need my head in country roads not speeding down motorways
Not easy when life requires a bullet train but I yearn for the orient express
It’s true that life is full of challenges but often the biggest of all is ourselves