Long Discernible Poems
Long Discernible Poems. Below are the most popular long Discernible by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Discernible poems by poem length and keyword.
Sexual Employee
It clocked in at 7:02 am
No orifice in sight
Placed the time card in a slot
Made its way to a metallic table
Blank white paper on the top
#2 lead pencil, covered yellow, appeared
One hour later the employee began to draw
At the center of the paper starting at point “A”
A thin line was drawn from there to point “B’ on the page
Horizontal, naturally
Below that, one hour later, another line was formed
Starting at point “C”
It too was a thin line drawn and continued on to point “D”
Horizontally, of course (the two lines never intersected)
Vertical lines could only be drawn on Fridays
Diagonals were not permitted
They were perverse and went against the laws of nature
The employee had no discernible features worth mentioning
But, it does come to work each day though
With two buttons built or installed into its side
It rolled over to the clock at 4:02 pm and punched out
Placed the time card in a designated slot and left
Went home with the push buttons still installed
One red. One green. Always the same
We never questioned
It is not our job
Bamboo Night origins - Story behind the epic haiku poem “Bamboo Night”
It is a tribute poem to Matsuo Basho. In 1674, December 20th. The 354th. day of the year. It was a Thursday if I remember correctly; The epic haiku poem takes place in the solitude of the bamboo forest in Ueno Japan at precisely 2:35 am near where the Sumida and Ara Rivers meet in the dead of night and depths of Winter. A handful of twinkling stars fight their way through scattered gray clouds. A soft light breeze holds tiny snow flakes suspended, then lands them ever so gently on solid green bamboo shoots and related surfaces in absolute silence, in absolute cold, with no one around to witness the solemn event. There are no discernible sounds at all in the dark green forest.
A perfectly round moon stands up above totally remote, hovering, suspended in time, an inanimate gray white object almost bright, frozen on the distance, settles, shines down, just to the northwest of the regions coldest location. Some snow flakes land temporarily, shake in a frenzy on the soft wind, to hold on but are lifted again off the surface of the bamboo, drift away silently into oblivion. Certain flakes remain intact on the green, pretend to be green. By dawn they turn, in an ever so slower process, into a clear liquid, evaporate in the mist of morning. The conditions are verging on warmth but are still too cold to be called warm. The snow then begins to disappear forever, one tiny flake at a time. Some white remains but mostly green is seen at the dawn of day. Calm and silence can be soothing under the shimmering stars and tranquil frozen moon. Snow becomes a memory by high noon. By December 21st. evening, new snow comes forth from sleeping clouds, to repeat the cycle once more in Ueno forest.
Bamboo Night - Haiku
melting by star light
slow, tranquil, solemn moon cold
snow on bamboo white
205. She was my dreamer weave, roaming grace in my dreamland
Unbridled a mystic riddle, puzzling befuddling kind
Days are gone by to seek , to beseech, they were
A tide met the will, and we met as wills met beyond verses, unsay-able
To garnish the scar, borrowing Scarborough next to Tucson
Then they foretold they all, the roll the call, all became a clear water in assimilation
Unsung, they sang my song
Unlearned they preached my heart song, in near and far intertwining chime
An invaluable hymn alone, sings there in a croon, nursing clues in my gone a noon, nap time
Eternally the stanza is returning back to the first my soul sings to overcome skeptic a critic
Only you dwell there to hue the twilight clouds, discernible.
Foe no paw tick
yell la rhyme anon,
nor reason the spirit
of English poet
with sir name Donne
silently reverberated,
thru age gent
o' time gone
by, and space from one o'
many departed esteemed
fellows named John,
this particular gifted poet bro'
enshrined within pantheon dough
main of renown
wordsmiths, whar low
did volumes of cherished mo'
verses didst flow
till death, whence glow
extinguished last
breath aye...Kings
unsullied reverence
eminent soul dost overshadow
history didst stow
treasure trove belle lettres - whoa
to majestic scribe,
whose legend preserved
against dry den sorrow
(born: January, 24th 1572
died: March 31st 1631 -
London, England) -
after demise, whence,
grim reaper stole storied
versatile writer yet barely lix,
spittle orbitz, his
corporeal body didst go,
boot mourn not saith
long deceased flair rushed
with quill British bard,
forsooth heave hoe
doth his spirit gently
haunt every know
wing troubadour piercing
released from well taut bow,
a well targeted primed,
and boned arrow
loosed thru ethereal
doggone catacombs as divine
heavenly lambent crow
wing discernible as tow
whirring master as mentor hiho
channeling thru intervening
three plus centuries.
ARRAYS
beginning
to
cover
in
arrays
of parallel
unseen energy
flowing
vivid
living
a presence
the weave
of
experimentation
textured
vertical
&horizontal
beauty assimilated
in
dignity
&monumental
yet
solitary
concentration
discernible
&delineated
shadows
assured
&
luminous
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Spaceward: genesis, obedience, fathomless: universe.
In Cerulean: lambent, sullen, discernible: Close ignite.
With harmony: hypaethral, skyward, aether: womb hiccups
Whelm time: serenade, stardust, drizzles: diamond dust,
Overall trends: extinguish, slumber, wonder: celestial hymn,
By extolling: Argyle, twinkle, soothing: miraculous rule
Alabaster Gypsum: portholes, peering, ogling: rain glints
Rubicund Jocund: ventral, sheqalim, vivid: lured stars
Exalt air: Blistering, bleeding, molting: Corolla collide
Orotund Moire: Kaleidoscopic, sentient, dusk: carnal life
Grab fistful: Dripping, purple, precipitation: Sunburnt sky
Dodging Venus: Flytrap, ill-wishers, pyramids: Shift astern.
This variation on sonnet XL1 to illustrate what Kuhlmann intended .
kuhlmann is a verse poem of two phrases interspered with three related monosyllabic stem- words(nouns,adjectives )with an integral title.The label and form is derived from the baroque poet Quirinus Kuhlmann's 50 sonnet
form Love-kiss XLI
Poem inspired by the sonnet penned by Brian Stand
Written: April 10, 2024 For Edward Ebeh Contest
“Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.”
— Rumi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In society grasp, individuals fade,
As group dynamics falter, satiation wane.
Anomie is the state in which we reside,
Void of meaning, where shell may subside.
Man dwells in the domain of existence,
Longing for purpose—a tale to share once.
He pursues punter goals, a noble quest,
To descry his sanctuary, where he can rest.
Sans clear vision—a peculiar goal to pursue,
He wanders, devoid of any discernible clue.
A protocol to follow—a structure to defray,
He seeks a clear path to lead the way.
It is in the heights—that he finds his worth,
A divine connection, a sense of rebirth.
In a world of mayhem, where chaos reigns,
A sense of chaos and rebellion in our veins.
We're in an era of disorder and hopelessness,
Where a sense of alienation thrives with idleness.
Streets brimming with an air of dread and fear,
As the supremacy of law is starting to disappear.
A land ruled by untamed and careless,
Peace and order are baffling awareness.
Durkheim unveils a modern, cosmic community,
Where people or teams cease to have impunity,
Stuck in a condition of "anomie," they dwell,
Devoid of crucial social interactions, they tell.
An individual, adrift, follows a restless tide,
Planless self-empowerment with no guide.
An aimless existence, devoid of worth,
As delight lies in future, not in present berth.
One ought to consider their inevitable fate.
The insignificance and loneliness state.
He would undoubtedly elapse insane.
Or spirit might seek the numbing arcane.
Crisis and violence, madness untamed,
Revolution's fire, the world inflamed.
In sync with events of insignificance.
Unleashed automobility, a hedonistic dance,
Individualism allure, a tempting chance,
Grip of anomie and despair erodes at a glance.
Conspicuous consumption, a fleeting thrill,
Yet unsustainable, bear beyond, still.
In a sphere bereft of spirit light,
Where meaning fades—hope takes flight.
An oddity exists in trans-political time frame,
There is no repercussion for deviance claim.
Running, running, get away,
move aside! I can't stay!
Time is gone and I must go
hurry now, move too slow.
Heart is racing, pounding loud
press myself against the crowd.
Watching others hurry on,
ticking clock, move along.
Can't stop now I smell the fear
of those that stop and linger near.
Quickly, quickly, time to leave,
Father Time there's no reprieve.
Running, running, get away,
from my mind I cannot stray!
Eager thoughts that haunt my head,
every moment turned to dread.
From this prison, must escape
or leave to time my soul to rape!
Running rampant, eager thought
red streaked vision, can't be caught!
Heart is racing pounding loud
emotions seething, darkened shroud.
Mind will falter soon I know
melting dreams that ebb and flow.
Running, running, get away,
can't break free, must obey!
Vicious needs draw ever near,
fight I must against the fear.
Hands on me, the straps draw tighter
motionless I fight the niter.
Tightened crowd drawing closer
Leave me now, you saintly poser!
Help me not, no need to linger
take from me your putrid finger!
I can hear you softly speaking,
honey venom from lips leaking.
----------
"No outburst today Doctor, completely catatonic, although his eyes have begun to twitch rapidly like when he had the last one."
"Thank you, Nurse. I'll be careful."
"What do you think goes on in his sick little mind?"
"He has no regular or discernible brain waves, probably nothing at all... Broccoli."
"What?"
"He's a vegetable."
----------
Let me out, anger growing,
veins are pulsing, head exploding!
09/20/15
Dark & Twisted Contest-HM
Nathan D.
10/16/2015
What’s In The Urn
Strangers offered me to join them in a drink
I met them on a mountain edge while skiing
They seemed like friendly normal people then
So what could happen in a simple cabin?
Finding that which is not there or vanquished
What is there that cannot be perceived?
Placed upon the mantel piece are ashes in the cabin
Brass vase, a receptacle for lost souls sits in repose
A death vase to glare at over cognac
By the sober flames cast by
A fire place glow observed in action
Liquid spirits pour out their poison
In the cozy living room inside the cabin
Drinks alone cannot remove this feeling of distraction
The urn is piercing through my soul
People belong in cemeteries you know
With all due respect for the dead
Scatter them at sea when they‘re deceased
Not paraded around in gloom to cause unease
Or as a center piece for living rooms
I’m not relieved to find it is a lizard on the shelf
To be exact, an exotic iguana family friend entombed
And to assume that fact makes this matter optimal
I beg to differ on that point and voice my opinion later
There must be a plot of ground outside
Or toilet somewhere to flush it down
But better left unsaid, as they are bereaved about the death
And I am their invited guest
Iguana tried consuming the family’s cat
Another favorite pet I guess
It is surmised, that’s how it met its end
Wound up expired inside the urn
The receptacle was there and going nowhere on its own
I swear it follows me from room to room
By embers glow and ash, shadowing my every move
A brass smile casting off the urn, leaving me concerned
I could not take my leave
The container followed me
So I waited, fixated on the thing
Is it coming back to life to eat more bugs or me?
Finding that which is not there
Is easier in the dark
Rising to the occasion of the day that breaks
I must escape the premises to continue skiing
Into the frozen world outside I fly
With no discernible signs or paths to lead or learn
I get away, no time to say good-byes or find my way
Never again will I say; what’s in the urn
A scarlet sun silently sinks from sight,
as sullied clouds morph into a pink shroud.
Shadows and silhouettes are still allowed,
barely discernible in the moonlight.
And as a liquid moon pools in the night,
Luna peeks through layers of misty cloud.
And the sound of chirping crickets grows loud,
till they are hushed by the absence of light.
Hanging under a chandelier of stars,
Luna embodies elegance and grace:
a wizened sprite, smiling down from above.
And dreamers try catching moonbeams in jars
as fantasies and wishes interlace;
fueled by feelings of being in love.