Long Dizzily Poems
Long Dizzily Poems. Below are the most popular long Dizzily by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dizzily poems by poem length and keyword.
Discombobulation hammers (sic) kills, lacerates, peppers...
tuckered wayfarer
Blitzkrieg cacophony debilitates Earthling
spiritually, mentally, emotionally... castrates
analogous post traumatic stress disorder
status simulating shell shocked warrior
dizzily descending darkening dimension
aghast - weakly ejaculate wherefore art thou
Elysian Fields?
Mine skeletal atrophied, diseased, gnarled...
once muscular flesh now awful blight
trumpets, dons, bespeaks... existence
regarding barren toothless anchorite
desolate physical environment
offlimit superfund site
mirrors equivalent condemned
toxic physical body quite
piteous, hideous, atrocious...,
this human bag of lovely bones
can barely, limply, scratchily... write
forbidding natural geography might
best demarcate courtesy skull
and crossbones bleached white
optimally reflecting feasting
carrion did delight
post mortem cannibalized habeas corpus
can never know where Edenic Garden
bloomed ah... magnificent sight,
nor reckon eyes me
how poetry doth not excite
forever striking living daylight
emancipating soul joining spiritus mundi
relieving tortured corporeal skiff good night
amidst abandoned, desecrated,
gutted... wasteland rendered might
of mankind quest to tame and temper
breathless fecundity kickstarting
rejuvenation linked to potent Gaia despite
havoc wrought regenerative force
repurposes deadened muscle and cellulite
unbeknownst decomposed organisms
comprise yours truly, nor what bright
transformation new life subsequently results
will kindle, snapchat, tender... excite.
watch clouds dizzily dreamy in
champagne light, watch with nostalgic
wistfulness the Canada geese
returning to balmy retreat
a graceful gripping formation!
watch clouds dizzily dreamy in
mauve! butterflies seductively
caress incandescent flowers ...
under luminous horizon
robin enticingly singing,
watch clouds dizzily dreamy in
rosy summer bidding farewell !
paths are strewn with puce, tangerine ~
red, orange leaves...swirling, twirling,
hint of autumn in crispy breeze -
watch clouds dizzily dreamy in!
August 11, 2022
8 syllables in every line - checked by HMS.com
For “Hint Of Autumn” Poetry contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Stones,
Mortar, and brick
Nowhere to turn without feeling sick, stoned
To my stomach
A bottomless pit
Unheard, smothered by a thousand succinct voices' verbose drone
Speaking as they spew toxic, putrid bile in the pit of my stomach
Plummeting, swirling dizzily in circles - a cyclone - cyclically, alone
Booming, the whispering silence of lucidity's susurrate disruption weighs heavily on my thoughts, placidly as it sits
Like boulders, slowly sinking deeper into quicksand - the bottomless pit of my stomach
Swallowed by immovable, inescapable stones,
Mortar, and brick
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut
And uttered a familiar prayer
To escape the shackles of the mundane
And travel to Stardust Fields
It wasn't long after I uttered those words
I found my hair tossed by a gentle breeze
When I opened my eyes I grinned from ear to ear
For I had arrived at Stardust fields
Here the stars blossomed like flowers
And tiny moons grew like fruit on tree branches
The sky was a shimmering ocean of shooting stars
Cascading onto the open fields
Where they burst like fireworks
To the delight of the sassy squirrels
As they collected planet dust
To create their nests in the moon trees
Spreading out from a central location
Were four rainbow roads that lead all over
From the sugar coated mountaintops
To valleys where gingerbread men farm the land
And sometimes the rainbow roads loop de loop
So I fall to the ground laughing so dizzily
Serenaded by the rustling leaves
I feel like I could stay in Stardust Fields forever
putrid rascal was a real truant
and also a junkie
and a somnambulist too
and wicked gourmet bought a new guillotine
then the rascal walked dizzily
like a mechanic dancer
around the cinnamon circle
right under the scythe
and underwent a severance
the staggering truth was quite vague
then a postwar prelude under the lurid sky
piccolo semitone
sacrament
orchids
silhouettes on a merry-go-round
the jetty broke up
and a castaway went away
right before dawning
beforethe stellar equinox
but journey was a humdrum
with nautical nausea
just a medley of flukes
so we hit the road
on the roof of a magic bus
not just figurative
really peculiar
and finally let behind
all the cold sensations
a marble queen visits
with a priest with no faith
and start gentle mutiny
the celestial journey
is over at ten p.m.
and all we got left
is a sobering lethargy
We stand in voiceless fixity and gaze
Upon veined stone carved of silent faces
He seems but weightless in lamented arms
But oh! Their grief too heavy to bear
For see how even ourselves are shown as living
Only by each gasping breath we take
And out of the chill of marbled sorrow
Not a stir is heard
Let us stand long with eyes wide to remember
How precarious our world
While so carefully they cradle Him
Speak of it, we cannot
Far more wise
To stand in voiceless fixity and see
How fragile our world is spinning
Dizzily into emptiness, if be not changeable..
For earth and we must alter.
What has been witnessed here in polished stone
Has made the air too thin to speak these words....
"He died upon the cross"
_____________________________________________________________
Inspired by Michelangelo's Statue..."The Deposition"
Anxiously anticipating annual activity
Blissfully bound by bravado
Consuming cold contagious concoction
Dizzily developed devilish desire
Eagerly expecting ego's enlightenment
Feverishly foraged familiar fraternity
Garnished gowns graciously gathered
Hopeful heralded hithered happenstance
Instantly intimated identical ideologies
Jointly jousted jovial juxtaposition
Kaleidoscopic keepsake kept kinetic
Longing languid lustful longitude
Miraculous marvelous momentous movement
Nursing nocturnal natal namesake
Observing others obstinate opinions
Preparing precious paternal post
Quickly quietly questing quarters
Radiant reared remained rambunctious
Stifled stern stayed sturdy
Transmitting tantalizing topical teachings
Understanding umbrage utilizing unity
Vital vibrant visceral visions
Watchful wonderful whimsical wishes
Yonder yearning youthful years
Zanily zigzagged zesty zenith
Mary Lou Sims was young and enterprising, like stars routing dark;
Or mauve dawn on the verge of discovery, awaiting time's remarks.
Mary Lou's best friend was Cora Mann, ever since sweet childhood;
When they'd sat in zesty school together, in the town of 'Wildwood.'
They dreamed of opening an antique shop, like an old rose garden;
Awash in butterscotch sun's long memory, scents roaming, wanton.
Other friends visited Mary Lou frequently, like frilly clouds visit sun;
Avid for frothy, plum memories, like formal moon, beyond the fallen.
Family favored Mary Lou with visits, on flowering Fridays of her life;
As raspberry filled a backdrop of days, and plumed flocks were rife.
She lived in the house of tasks and haste, like pink stars, ever shining;
Or butterflies laboring in flowers, near the place of wisteria, climbing.
Striped scarlet seized colorful dawn, on a street of transient starlings;
Where sassy Mary Lou resided, when ravens spread their dark wings..
And neon hues lit noisy nightfall, when nomad neighbors came calling;
In now moments of now and then, when time notably, stops crawling.
'Elephant foot' plants shook earth, while swan flowers glided, moonlit.
Then 'mermaid plants' dove at dusk, as weeping begonias cried a bit.
'Sorceress blue rose' bewitched all, as jade spiral cacti dizzily twirled;
And 'curly locks orchid,' combed her tresses, under starlight, pearled.
Mary Lou and Cora, were closer to their dream. A loan was approved;
And Mary Lou wrote a note to friend, Cora, like colors of joy, suffused.
Mary Lou gathered other letters to be mailed, and also the one to Cora,
With joyful news of the rest of their lives, like mulberry skies of aurora.
She toted and mailed the letters, using a basket, of yellow and green;
Yet, with no word from Cora, worried she was having doubts. Unseen!
But, elation returned when a boy rang her bell, with the letter she'd lost,
For, some acts of kindness are so great, that you could not place a cost!
'A-tisket a-tasket
A green and yellow basket
I wrote a letter to my friend
And on the way I dropped it,
I dropped it, I dropped it,
And on the way I dropped it.
A little boy he picked it up
And put it in his pocket.'
Mr Strood
The high room, the bright light, the plentiful mirrors
the long sweep of lace curtains, the many faces..
She wondered whether music lessons were part
of her dreadful experiences
of playing before people. The very first time
she had played- a little running melody in the treble..
a page of minims, the minims had swollen
until she could not see whether they were lines or spaces,
her fingers had been so weak
after the first unexpectedly loud note
that her fingers suddenly stiffened
she worked them from her elbows like sticks-
dreadful movements - She heard nothing but
hard loud minims to the end,
As she stood, dizzily up, someone
said she had a nice touch-the piano should always remember
the clear pieces by heart-
through trembling fingers the notes
fumbled and slurred into each other.
At musical evenings she had both played and sung,
each time afresh to the effects which came
so easily when she was alone,
but she could not discover the secret of
when she had been
too miserable to be nervous
and Mr Strood, astonished, listening,
thrilled to her from behind the piano
Suzanne Delaney
Found Poem
Pointed Roofs
by Dorothy Miller Richardson
Trailing clouds of glory do we come
The magical moments of childhood
When we felt at one with the universe
Spinning dizzily with delight
Or with more of horrible and awful
That even to name is sorrowful
Bound helplessly with flu in bed
Unable from the pillow to raise my head
And wishing the world would just go away
Paralysed by the loss of power to move
Maybe it is not so much
The image to which we should cling
Rather that the images should cling
To us
Providing our distinct identities
The yardstick of our recollections
The holding of our first born close
Those bedtime stories where
The kids cling on to every word
Just before into euphoric sleep they drift
When we slip softly from the room
Switching off the bedroom light
With their minds now deep in dreams bright
Choosing one image is far beyond me
I much prefer the whole family tree.