Long Diagonal Poems
Long Diagonal Poems. Below are the most popular long Diagonal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Diagonal poems by poem length and keyword.
We are all queens or kings
Some are both; but only a few.
We know the king is the last to give up.
But the queen is more versatile.
She has all the moves, except the knight’s.
The bishops and the rooks have one track minds.
Bishops always going diagonal, rooks parallel.
No matter what they do, the queen is on the move.
The pawns are sneaky; there are more of them.
They catch you unawares from the side sometimes.
Knights scoff at them, from their lofty intricate places.
But should we really laugh at anyone? The king asks.
He, after all, is the one who can barely maneuver around the board.
Being complacently placed in a four square limit. He has to be staid.
No matter where you are placed on the board, be versatile like the queen.
She truly does have all of the best move. No offense Knight.
I feel you… amidst fused friction
through distanced dreams
like an intriguing intersection
of intuitive interpretations,
an outlined illustration
of life-thirst
and heart-lines ...
vectors of piercing verse
helix of heightened heaving
a light hunger beyond reach
as geometries of want
caress the calm cadence
of silence in softness…
and this voluptuous volume
vibrates in warm waves ~
no art could articulate
for love unsaid is
aligned in arcs of adoration
orbiting through
mundane minutes
that tweak and spiral
through
absence of touch…
so tonight,
let fingers of faith
intertwine soul with mind
within cosmic corners
lacking boundaries
where angels
compose curves of longing
in colors of crystalline spheres;
~ a sweet serenade suppressed
in
streaks of sun-rhymes ~
we are more than restless views
on a complex compass ~
we are the magnetic mystery
of a free-diagonal rhythm
manifesting music
without a feverish frequency ~
of fantasies and myths
of reveries and revelations ~
a timeless tale that has no end
but a beginning ~
of an everlasting elevation,
paradise beneath
polygonal promises…
Last call for alcohol, embargo
on the cargo headed for Fargo?
Bootlegging articles of?
"ConfederationNow",
Boot logger, droned Over all? Foggered... Froggers, sprawled. Farms attacked by competing vows. ++
Blood drained Cows.
Imagine, Gaia hype- our brainwashing, a
sacrifice to a Paul Bunyan Nephilim type, "Savior" moonshining wormwood tea in exchange for Sheep. Believing them to be. Stoned blind in Texas, right wing.
Liquid Media medicinals, points for eveyone West of, Diagonal the Allegheny, best of show, suggestion,
allegiant, allegory. (Oh...allegedly.)
As The King of the North fights zombies that believe the Game of Thrones just fantasy. Conspiracy_ Storytellers of propagandolf, minds of Sauron to keep
eyes Wide-Shut. By Aristocracy.
To "pass" on the proof of those stoned blind in Texas, shekeled, bought, brought a Rose, of Sharon,
from Ticked Karen's, in their own Eden.
Those non-Citizens,
"Christians of the un-Enlightened" l"unacy of Old',
thoughts? NoahmadicHeathens!
Of the tide turning; going South.
The dark side of the moon,
a journey scape of wet dreams in swoon.
To partake the half empty side of drink.
Salt of thirsts.
Cup of wrath of the Directional Winds.
A piracy bloodbath of Nationhood in martyred demarcation zones.
Cusp of swilling blood of the swill,
Apocalyptic feel, fills,
notes of the unveiling of the Whore who Rides the Beast on the Seven Seas. Leviathan is leavened,
rising, ready to eat.
Now, there is censorship on speech on the internet,
then is, when, is then en-Tyrely.
The Gatekeepers at Fallens keep,
keeping freedom, voices "Crying in the Wilderness"',
Peeps out of reach.
Accept for Government (entities) with algorithms, keyloggers, identity id thieves, imagers of the Beast.
Spell binders binding
their articles-of-New-World-Sourcery-Cheaping-Rumpelstiltskin-Seamstitchery-Tailoring-Truth- blinding-digital-mining-slaves for the Wolves,
Kings of the East, Trading Company.
Trading souls for an hour with the Beast.
I remember it being green. The
color so sublime that it takes
away melange of misery. The
wallowing self in the streets
that leads nowhere. I remember
them being brown. The path so
stern that you might want to mi
-ss it but it is so hard to do just
that. It often reaches to an aban
-doned building, the cracks and
crevices are hosting a lot of
yellow within it. The kind of yell
-ow that makes you want to have
ice lollies. I remember the building
being grey. Carrying on it's should
-ers the dullness, the hate, the ugly
associated to it. The yellow tells a
different story. It doesn't care
about the green, the red, the grey;
the misery. There's blue directly
diagonal to it and in it there's a who
-le expanse of pigments. The hues
and the tints that are just wondero
-us for many but for yellow, it's
what the world is. This city is beige,
it always has been beige but if you
squint your eyes at a precise angle,
you'll see lavender falling down the
sky and everything will be fine.
Well do I know
there's naught to be won.
Desire nonetheless drives
me (and you?) on.
Do you fancy this fight?
I shall not retreat.
So lift up your sword,
and bring on the heat!
You advance with a laugh,
I parry with a smile,
you fade all coquettish -
I lunge with deft guile.
You shed my offense,
launch diagonal strike,
but I'm always on guard,
to a love I dislike.
Yet, despite all of this,
your strength doth prevail.
And your steel finds home,
in the source of travail.
Crimson blood bleeds
from my breast unto you;
the heart's sap has its wish,
despite all that I do.
3 October 2019
DIAGONAL DISTINCTIVES
striped etchings
accordingly designed
overall
noteworthy
yet intended
to be last
as everyday
attire
specific
providing
an informal
impression
imaginary &surprising
with freedom
of movement
a possession
deduced
alongside & circling
resemblance
in the informal
features
of exceptions
unlearned
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
I meander my way through the hills, noting the pretty violets.
Their daintiness delights me, so I sit, trying not to crush any.
An impossible task. While I am down here, I notice the morels.
My hand reaches past them to feel the bumpiness of the tree moss.
The sun has greeted me; I see a diagonal sun stream lighting the meadow.
I lean against the trunk of the oak and study the prettiness of this valley.
Since I was a child I always wanted to be a grandma and live in the country.
I never wanted to cook or bake, so I don’t.
I sit here, loving the sound of crickets.
Was that a frog? I get up to wander to the pond. There are minnows there.
I can practically feel the cool water on my fingers; I stare at my age spots.
When did I grow my grandmother’s hands? I wonder if I still have my freckles.
The ones grandpa used to tease me about when I was nine. I will look later.
I.
I’ve lost my sense of silence…
I’ve lost my self
So now I hate everything
I want nothing to do with anything
Does this make you sad?
It makes me sad, sure,
And even as I curse even that sadness
I cant not rip it off
I wish to burn my angel wings
The game to me is cruel and dumb now
There is no merriment where there is no place to re-fuel
Buried in the thickets of eyes and ears as I am
Let me be
Retreat and I will learn some other trick
And never ever tell you about it
I will show you, like I do my own tears,
To me in the mirror
But just as my tears that I keep hidden from you
I will never tell you my reason for living
My own intents of love
This I will burn in my own memory
I am tired now…
Of you, world…
I wish not death or darkness
But light and warmth, out of ear shot from all savages.
II.
I was pulling strings of beads--
They were dancing!
I lumbered to a lull,
The lighted eyes raying into me--I shot upwards!
A rebounding blue casket flash,
I slip onto wet pavement as Wendell
Dropped salt spit from his brow,
Patting me tender.
Wendell lived alone.
With the many fresh faces rolling along the lawns
Pattering and clopping against the silent realm of wood,
Piercing my silvering sounds
With shuttering glimpses of the Great Blue and White
There was always a party with Wendell.
Woven in nature’s diagonal rings, as they appear against the sun,
There is some irate lust for human companionship,
Like mad scientists a-muck about the land,
All on differing timetables, differing desires,
Thoug with a thirst for air like me.
SPHERES
authors
of
sovereignity
with
prerogatives
reserved
situations
proclaimed
in
a visual
transpositionin
both
comprehensive
&panoramic
arrangements
repeatedly
seen
in the
intensive
&ornamental
the diagonal
absorbed by colour
so sensualso
& unrestrained
increasingly
engaged
the
contrast the
of function
in measured
decoration
qualitatively
refined
with a
style
as the measure
of independence
an
impression of depth
harmonies
so disproportionate
adorned
in different hues
with unsurpassable
with a
precision
ennobled
existence
EASTER DINNER
they liked the one behind me
the teal and black checkerboard
its sparkling tiles on the diagonal
red, yellow, blue, pink pillows
on sofas and chair
the sunrise was unsympathetic
like the cross, but the service
was cozy for Easter Sunday.
remember how it was raining yesterday?
they liked the one behind me
with framed women and palms
i’d have to look over my shoulder
see the eyes of the beholders
steadily for twelve hours plus
prepping the whole affair
can you smell the onions and peppers
the beginnings of love
they liked the one behind me
with the blue and pink sky,
red roses fanned out, ferns,
and modern art on display
stirred the flour, salt,
nearly a dozen eggs
and water, still needed
more water
they liked the one behind me
with the great picture window,
the surf and sail, red and white
striped shell, a book, and
a cocktail with straw
chicken - legs and breast
red and white wine
no deviled eggs - tossed
toadstool radishes
they liked the painting
it drew them in
i liked that they liked it
wonder if they saw
the red parakeet?
even the beach chairs are red
did they spy all the red things
obviously I’ve counted
most everything
that is behind my back
and in front of me
4/9/2023