Long Effaced Poems

Long Effaced Poems. Below are the most popular long Effaced by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Effaced poems by poem length and keyword.


Love Sick Heavenly Demon

100,000 years of nirvana 
Experiencing the pain and sorrow in the land of mortals
Breaking the divine law.
Embracing the Empyrian heart 
Why care so much on what is divine or mortal? 
Dancing through the dreaming world of flowers 

If the song is not to taste 
and effaced the joy of the moonlit palace.
Simply change the sound of the magick

Anger and grief are hard to dissipate
Turning to the rivers, mountains and lakes
Smiling in the love sick trials of taiyin
How to find the eternal heart of Compassion?

A demon or an immortal? 
how often can they be consumed
 in the trials of the mortal heart song


Grieving with the sky
The Flowers bloom on the moonlit lake 
And all around blood drips down
Where can we meet again?
 This broken heart the heavens are jealous of.


Premium Member Revitalized Love In the Fall of Winter

In the midst of vacant hours, echoes of expressions on opposite ends
are something of the same. Ruminating on questions; questions about
thy and questions about thou intertwined
with the then and the now. Thoughts
prelude to other thoughts of 
thoughts emerging to 
many thoughts.
Consulting and
considering 
the death
and birth
of us; is thy
disinclined 
to shed the 
events upon the
ground transformed
from a dream out of a
dream to this dream only of us?
A coherent argument it is, that the
memories back on yesterday brought us 
here today...But, when thy and thou bodies
meet and descend upon each accreting to the singular; occupancy
quickly overcomes vacancy leading the thoughts of many thoughts effaced.
(Sigh)...Thy and Thou love bolsters all the more today than back on yesterday.


Pace, G
INK-U-SCRIPT

12-11-2012

Comely Saracen

Veiled beauty so homely, so chaste
Purging-black your crown doth baste
Cloistered mantle throttles your solemn waste
Erudite cloak exhibits subtle, stolid taste

Sensual nature appealingly encased
Your virtue, fealty cannot be effaced
All pageantry and style have been erased
Remaining, intrinsic qualities meekly showcased

Outwardly modest; inwardly circumspect
Physical qualities restrained, derelict
Bearing your social stigma without respect
For the fashion police; who your sublimity reject

Bridled maiden so simple, so plain
Retract your temporal, flowing mane
Reveal your fair, pale grain
Your passion, honor no longer restrain
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Each Passing Cloud

          Each passing cloud carries melancholy
           of morose mind now venturing your sky.
            No matter your mood be sad or jolly,
            Feel my ardent ardor and leave a sigh.

          Once my love you eagerly embellished.
         Each passing cloud carries melancholy
          of my mangled mind now shattered, tarnished.
         Leave a sigh for my heart,  humble - holy.

        My heart once showered by your love fully,
        now effaced by you , my rue soaring high.
        Each passing cloud carries melancholy
        of splintered heart just yearning for your sigh.

        Once on vibrant passion floating in dream.
         My blood bubbled by your crave thoroughly.
         Now amour in clamour, desires in scream.
        Each passing cloud carries melancholy.
Form: Quatern

Premium Member Musings

MUSINGS
synthesis
of
fearful
intensity
original
instinctive
&
otherworldly

curiosity
agitates
intimacy
&
then effaced
by
the exotic
elaborate
in little
glimpses
particularly
so
modest
yet absolutes
&
engrossing

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
Form: Other


Premium Member Stones

the wind sounds like a hundred violins playing
     as I walk a foot-worn path
        time has effaced inscriptions 
    on some funeral stones
        where the dead repose in bones
and I am stranded in a sea of mute stones
       all the precious skeletons a jumble beneath
   the stones that echo and groan
      death comes unbidden to each in time
         and the drum of time ceases
                 hard stones, solid stones, granite stones
        bleached stones, broken stones, tall stones
              small stones, flat stones, baby stones
                     weeping angel stones
I wish for a stepping stone path
                 as I tread over unknown bones
      that whisper and moan
              and I whisper your struggle is over now
  rest in peace beneath 
                 your eternal stones
now, I stand still in this decaying under a deep blue sky
             and clouds sail and drift like sailboats
                           oh, daggers pierce my heart
for I have found your stone ...

_______________________
August 8, 2021


Poetry/Free Verse/Stones
Copyright Protected, ID 08-1379-623-08
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France

Written for the Premier contest, Stones
sponsor, Anthony Biaanco, Judged 08/14/2021

First Place

Thanksgiving gobbledygook

Thanksgiving gobbledygook

The following anecdote baste
upon overactive imagination of mine
in sync with being married
and monogamously living socially chaste
life as a scrupulous anchorite,
whose weather beaten corporeal flesh
plus sabotaged, riddled,
and tuckered psyche effaced
after becoming adequately stuffed,
this turkey (in the straw)

then flapped his trussed wings
(at the speed of sound)
if listening closely echoes refrains
from Amazing Grace,
(which words reflections of John Newton,
a slave trader
who nearly died in a shipwreck,
and who eventually became a minister.
after which he penned the famous words
of "Amazing Grace" for a sermon

for his 1773 New Year's service
at the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul)
unable to escape ill fate of mine
i.e. being analogous to cooked goose
subsequently found him interlaced
with various and sundry
other dead animals
fixed to be mounted
(courtesy a taxidermist) on a wall.

The holiday dates back
to November 1621,
when the newly arrived Pilgrims
and the Wampanoag Indians
gathered at Plymouth
for an autumn harvest feast,
an event regarded
as America's “first Thanksgiving.”

Ever since then throve,
a commercialization, commodification,
commination and communication war,
where many a big box department store
large-scale buildings
of more than 50,000 square feet,
the store is usually plainly designed
and often resembles a large box
for example Walmart, Home Depot,

Tesco, and Ikea are examples
of big-box retailers,
but never forget warehouse clubs
such as Costco and BJ's
considered the original kind
of big-box retailers nevermore
to witness mom and pop businesses
(small business entities
that thrive independently and spurred

pick/pull yourself up
by bootstraps guild den age,
or family-owned) hardcore
bricks and mortar outfits
prominent during pre industrial
high societies, when love's labour's lost
venerated, serenaded, and promenaded
like The School of Scandal of trysts,
buzzfeeding the literati 
with tantalizing amour.

Sea of Sweetness

Honey did not leave me,
Just robbed me of my sweetness.
While scarlet desires still emanate from the evergreen memories,
Under the moonlit sky,
I mourn over the ascetic turmoil...
Like an invisible shrine,
It has become the bastion of our prayers,
Like a plenary indulgence,
It has effaced the objects of our affection.
Seldom do I tread on lustrous promenades
The tall trees with slender alluring fingers
Call me in repertoire
Like silky waves on an already tainted beach,
Heaven must not be pure,
As heavenly deeds are always veiled by nonexistence and retrospection,
The fruit of love 
Is,since ageless times ,
The coveted poison,
The guardian angel of broken souls, 
That puts to sleep
A hollow existence,
Forever freeing from the futility in the form of Life.
© Iman Roy  Create an image from this poem.

Follow the Fire

Take me to the summit muse and create 
in me, a fervor that no one can erase 
Let me make a crucible of gold and date 
what is everlasting and cannot be effaced

Spread the fire of passion across my heart 
use me like you would a feather to the wind 
immerse me in idea gently do your part 
we are two binaries strongly twinned 

Lead me to the poems with a gentle hand 
allow it to be so for my soul must be free 
I have seen it written in the Golden sand 
by the hand of God, who has created me 

Take me to the fire with a steady love 
I know your mine, cuz you fit me like a glove.  


Dec 14 2022 
Example for my contest
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Gift

some say life digs its own grave ~
from my pov i’m building mountains  (By poet)

More aware than I’m feeling 
less abstract than my dreams
Reality’s that one special place 
somewhere in the between 
Consciousness is about living 
Oblivion for erasing all death 
What gives us persisting life 
brain activity, our next breath 

Questioning everything I see 
understanding very little at all
The nightmare of intelligence 
begs more than it can solve 
Writing to vent my frustration 
sharing views of the unseen
No one knows beyond doubt 
why life needed human beings 

I know that God created us
so did the Big Bang as well 
there is a place called heaven 
alongside our man made hell 
But all this explains nothing 
other than, try a leap of faith 
Just like my words here fail
to express meaning, but wait!

You live, you always have, your 
own death’s impossible to taste 
We watch others dying each day 
in demise, all experience effaced 
To be, is the only reality possible 
consciousness, you get my drift 
Our chance to feel and reason,
death is zilch, life’s the only gift 

Writing Challenge - G Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France 
02/21/23
Gift prompt #6
Form: Rhyme

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