Long Ebony Poems
Long Ebony Poems. Below are the most popular long Ebony by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ebony poems by poem length and keyword.
Sonnets After
Midnight #1 (Far
Destined Winds)
Far destined winds, port a love song for me.
Send silent heart-thoughts of hope in the air,
To her left standing far across the sea--
Gazing from a tower to see me from there.
Oh wind have a breeze her soft brow caresse;
Send flowing waves to whisper in her ear
My unheard music of love's tenderness
I would sing to her if I cold be near.
Winds for me stroke with gossamer fingertips
Her ebony long tresses whose soft touch I miss.
And for me touch her purest trembling lips
Never once profaned by my unworthy kiss.
Messenger unseen, to her in her land,
Go where I may not stretch forth my own hand.
originally written to a paramour in Strasbourg, France, probably in 1982
~In her head and array of electric eclectic fluoride of pink and wrinkled mass intelligence
Between her eyes and aroma often spied critical scenes a scenic skies fresh fragranted Springtime lavender spies
A brown blackened ebony body
Tweet her thighs coveted blossoms almond rise enveloped under cotton top coverings
The first mouth of the birth opening
Her body is a trunk that holds all her belongings
Her arms are lead limbs branching sprouting out like in a tree
A brown blackened ebony body
Standing in the meadow in the midst of the Almighty ~
12/15/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
So soulful
Are your ebony eyes, my sweet.
Oh, how they penetrate so deep...
Into my own, illuminating
My heart with gleams of passionate love.
So soulful;
Your eyes are windows
To the whys of you. They reveal
Secrets long untold. You light up the world
When you make them smile!
So soulful
Are those glittering bright stars,
And they shine like a midday sun.
Please, don't break my heart in two
Flooding them with tears.
So soulful
Are your ebony eyes, my dearest.
They effortlessly entrap me in wonder.
Go on, cast your wondrous spell
On me, and leave me as seduced...
As King Cobra
To a snake charmer
I couldn't resist being hypnotized
By your come-hither gaze
If I tried.
''S'' Contest, New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Theme chosen: Soulful
Date written: 11/01/2021
SELAH
As the sharp rays of sunlight slowly sliced
through the tinted tarring clouds
sculpting away the web of darkness of night
I broke off a piece of time and used it
to scrape away the corrosion of agony
from the heart of my mind
and resuscitated my eroded faith.
Today I will open dusty luggage of creativity
and pull out wrinkled war worn words of creation:
etch ebony emotions of long lived life
onto refined pulp of trees; weave soul stirring songs;
mold scented petals flowering peace and love;
and feel the breath of God warming my serene sweet soul
as He feathers the nest of my pregnant poetic mind. Selah.
Coiffed petals glad tidings tell
Vintage red cup raised to the sun
Whose heat mellows hearth's veil
Enticing host signals feast hath begun
Aromatic vial with sweet scents stew
Hypnotizing fumes already suitors cue
Maitre d' winged banqueters will review
Whizzing minstrels waft toward rendezvous
Arriving guests with sweet libations do woo
Neon-draped Bumble bees enter flickering buzzing strobes
Metallic Green bees browse corridor; each succulent scent probes
Ebony-caped, Wasp beetle antenna fondles light, delicate lobes
Orange, sequined Monarch butterflies prate in paper machete robes
Salivating, virile male patrons imbibe freely from nectar fount
Nubile, female matrons nibble heartier fair; pollen from stamen mount
The history of Black or African People,
And all of our People should be celebrated
Year-round: every hour, day, week, month, and decade.
The celebration must go on unabated,
All the time. The first couple,
Ever existed, had dark or ebony skin, said
Many credible historians,
Archeologists and great citizens.
The month of February is evidently too short.
Twenty-eight days are not enough,
To commemorate our Brave People, who've fought
And defeated ignorance, bigotry and slavery.
Three hundred and sixty-five days are not enough,
To honor the struggle of the Slaves who were brought
To different parts of the world. A century
Is not enough. Many centuries are not enough.
We need, every day and month of the almanac,
To celebrate, to remember the first Black
Couple, our ebony Ancestors,
Our Black Brothers and Sisters.
Copyright© January 2017 Logerie Hebert, all rights reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several books of poems.
~
Crystallized moon beams,
fractured light of endless desires
shimmer on you as our eyes meet
beneath a canopy of gemstone brilliance
Pearl buttons glisten as fingers touch
and your smile grants permission,
leaving me breathless
Serenity of the night serenades
our hearts in silent yearnings
Your skin, sweet of perfumed nectar
scents the evening in aromatic siftings
A sultry sigh floats wispily to the heavens
as we lay entwined on feathery grass
exploring each other amidst whispering winds
City lights twinkle, reflections on the bay,
unaware of our love, our moment
Leaves trickle to earth like tiny wings
as I gaze upon your silhouette,
mysterious against this velvet sky
Still beauty falls like summer rain
drenching my sight with you
A full moon stares down smiling,
happily enchanted by our movements
The distant horizon mirrors us,
lingering upward at your charm,
feeling every pulsation of affection
Blissfully seeking deeper meaning as
you gaze down in hypnotic peering
Harmonic exhales sing in a sensual duet,
echoing through tree lined vistas
Increasing in tempo, you fall to my lips
dampened by melodic rapture
Fevered vibrations rhythmically sway,
while constellations dance,
effervescent patterns on an ebony abyss
A shooting star trails your murmured gasp,
comets collide within, intensely exploding,
illuminating our endless dreams
Simultaneous sensations glisten,
ecstasy quivers in stardust sprinkling
on our hearts as the evening blushes
in the shade of love
~
It’s not just Jesus who rose into grace with scars from nails and the cross
Trees grow new branches from knots like wounded soul’s blemish’s scars
A rainforest’s undergrowth thrives in the mist of weeping from heaven
Ebony needs ivory for harmony preferably with tusks attached to the rhino
An elephant under cover of the hat inside a boa constrictor pleases the Prince
Joaquin would write poetry had he not been swallowed by a black raven
On his shoulders and dogs that growl can bite fiercely with razor sharp fangs
Puncture marks empathize when they emphasize conjunction and junctures
A semicolon tattoo depicts the survivor from darkness shadows and light
No smoke without fire and his pen could not heal without fountains of sorrow
Juanita views wrinkles and stretch marks as cinnamon bark’s fine poise
Hides no longer self-harm lacerations with bracelets or covering bangles
Heals from a maze of disgraced projections owns grazes slashes and cuts
Paints a new canvas frames it with witch-hazel twigs leaves howling behind
Sounds all three pedals on forte’s piano has dampened onslaughts of fear
Joseph is a seer who had once lost his vision had dangled his ropes both sides
Of the sea saw but recovered the fulcrum of balance reads palm trees and palms
Life lines strife lines blisters blistering hardship hardened calluses’ resilience
Scars do not scare him as he places his faith into prayer gracing graces and hope
Tosses tussles meaning and harmony moulds silent retreat into flickering candles
‘Can’t put all your eggs into one basket no ominous pancakes without breakage’
What does not bend splinters and rages oozes and festers in foul purulent rage
Confusion needs contradictory feelings or one crosses Styx and Acheron too early
And the boatman needs both oars and currents to negotiate drift wood and pain
Any two master needs departure and destination roaring storms and calm respite
True ivory cannot be burnt and grace is a virtue but not without turning the table
21st April 2019
While ebony portals pool in shadows,
dark demons emerge from the depths of Hell.
Why only on Halloween, no one knows,
but their presence is marked by a rank smell.
Reality's skewed, and quickly dismissed,
as your imagination takes control.
And feelings of dire danger persist;
sending a shiver through your heart and soul.
As howling phantoms gather in the night,
their guttural growls converge, one by one.
And every creak and groan adds to your fright;
the night of All Hallows' Eve has begun.
And on this night, the gates of Hell won't close,
while ebony portals pool in shadows.
The Queen of fairies fell asleep
upon a bed of thistledown.
And didn't notice the hours creep
as she dreamt of a golden gown.
She was to meet the setting sun,
so she waited with bated breath.
For at dusk, they will merge as one
and together conquer death.
Darkness shrouds the sun as it dies,
draping the night in ebony.
But, she was too sleepy to rise,
and missed her date with destiny.
She woke to find there was no sun,
its light would never shine again.
And such things couldn't be undone,
despite her overwhelming pain.
She sent her magic to the sky,
but all the stars silently fell.
And alone, she began to cry,
like she'd opened the gates of Hell.
(Quatrain)
6/19/2015