Long Enactment Poems
Long Enactment Poems. Below are the most popular long Enactment by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enactment poems by poem length and keyword.
Watching old newsreels sadness washes over me
Highstepping horses, gentle eyes transformed in fear
valiantly charging under men that could not yield
Amid the noise of cannons, over the death-filled battle-field ,
sides flecked with foam, so far from home,
somehow they know how desperate is this final charge
hoofbeats pounding, hearts bursting, falling in their stride
Now the faded image shows a glory past and gone
Yet we must remember them and how their courage shone
Lest we forget the horses, or the majesty of them
In solemn re-enactment we must remember them
And grant a special place in paradise where they can roam.
Written for the Australian war horses that went overseas
and never returned
Some Paradise Where Horses Go Poetry Contest
Michelle Faulkner
Placed 4th.
Written By: D. Collins 12/3/21
Brain cells are the cause of the stuff we're in.
Where obvious individuals don't get treatment.
The true instigators are now on the run.
They enticed it to happen and got ghost on their son.
Looking at his parents, Youngblood has been jacked for life.
Two grimey individuals joined as husband and wife.
They're like serial killers, where son puts in the work.
An exact re-enactment of the "Chainsaw Massacre."
The youth didn't know what was being passed to him.
The genes of real monsters we call family and kin.
Brain cells are what causes a person to react.
But, parents are always supposed to have your back.
Your reaction to any moment in time
Is dependent on your true understanding and acceptance of oneself
Instinctively we react to our own perceptions proving that all variables
That have occurred, do occur and will occur
Are simply frivolous in nature…random or happen for a reason
What do you believe…
To respond to one’s perception will create a foundation
To categorize the positive and negative experiences in your life
These provoked moments also supply a true test to the laws of Karma…
What lies within your soul consciousness
The layers of inner peace
That have been etched in time
Running parallel to your personal growth…
The unprovoked moments
The stillness of time
The emptiness of your thoughts and physical space
An unprecedented inner strength
Within oneself there is a core of values that can be optimistically limitless…
A positive force of energy
If you believe…in virtues over vices
And the concept of Nirvana does exist…
It is the anticipation of trepidation when seeking such a complex truth
Your spiritual upkeep must be consistent and cared for
Or you will simply lose your way
To the reactions of your own life passing by…
To view yourself before enactment is more powerful than a premonition…
Envision all moments and variables before they happen
To foresee your positive and negative reactions…
Is to sustain congruence and learn bountifully
This accomplished energy would be your EVERYDAY ENLIGHTENMENT…
For the schematic inducement of compulsive being,
the transmuting tenet of identity
changes in the self-devised palette of color mélange,
while the conjured chameleon
paints the shifting façade of contrast.
In the ostensible enactment of life’s drama,
the performance perfected by obsessed passion
of playing the multicolored roles,
the sly shift from one actor to another
is an axiomatic design of innate drive.
As the colors amalgamate in the limelight
on the visage of the virtual makeup,
the chromatic face morphs into a mirror,
reflects the illusory actuality in shades of gray
with the perplexing disposition of ambiguity.
The spasm of contrived perception splits the mirror,
the shards of shattered pretence
scatter as abandoned obscure debris.
Metamorphosis creates the absolute entity,
shaped by the distinct contours of black and white.
For years he had thought
that God belonged to a secret society
one he could never be part of,
notwithstanding, he imagined himself a mystic,
In the prime of life, as sometimes happens,
rats began to gnaw at anchor ropes,
he began to drift away from his true self.
He became that most deluded of all beings –
a follower and a seeker.
Fortunately for his sanity,
he became a weaver of words,
a thought painter, an image maker,
a sort of poet.
His work was to be this enactment
upon a Scrabble board
a stage where sacred symbols were wrought
from alphabet salads.
If he were speaking now
he would tell you
that though he picked the letters.
and arranged the words
he is certain sure that any concept of
God-game game he played
always pointed back at himself,
and so, he found his truth again.>center>
On the wheels of time I’ve travelled for long
on the crafted pathway of synthetic stage,
revolving my split mind, entrapped in polarity,
under the spotlight of the contrived moments,
enmeshing the confused me with paradoxes.
In the enactment of the drama of multifaceted life,
I see some bare faces displayed on plain mirror,
really reflecting the radiance of convivial heart.
I don’t perform with them by the prompt,
but I present me truly, for I adore their purity.
I face some veiled faces posing on warped mirror,
disguising the contorted lines of rancid rancor,
I dislike their fake facade, but I play a sagacious role,
my transformed face of spite, the actor in me,
conceals behind the deceptive mask.
July 24, 2020
Contest : 10-20 Lines On Mask
Sponsor : Mohan Chutani
POTD 23rd June 2019
Maria Williams
Presents
Dance to Love
A tribute to my Dad, the late - Wilfred Forbes
She danced with wild abandon
she danced without a care
With sun kissed skin, her arms flung wide
Wild flowers everywhere
I chanced upon this secret glade
while walking early morn
A sacred aura surrounded it
a jewel in the dawn
A type of place where angels dwell
A place of Hopes and Dreams
A magic place of lush green plants
And sparkling bubbling streams
I drew back lest she saw me,
I dared not break the spell
Wild petals swirled around her
and to the ground they fell
Like homage to a Goddess
that she must surely be
For Gods to but gaze on
not mortals such as me
She twirled around so fast
I could barely see her feet
And even though I stood afar
I knew she gave off heat
When her tempo slowed right down
the air became quite chill
The Elements were but her slaves
she ordered them at will
I could have watched forever
so mesmerized was I
What would I give to dance with you?
I murmured with a sigh
To dance with wild abandon
with this Angel from above
A hundred birds would sing out loud
to watch us Dance To Love
by Maria Williams
This tribute is an enactment of a vision as told to us by our late Dad, which he maintained he witnessed as a young man.
He was an extraordinary orchestral musician and teacher to
some world greats.
He was accomplished in no less than 18 instruments, his favorites being the lead violin and xylophone (played with 8 hammers).
Thank you for listening and watching this video.
Copyright © June 2019 Maria Williams
Video arrangement, production, direction
and compilation:
Ron Williams
Video editing, sound mixing, graphics:
Jayne Hartanto
If you like my video please share
and subscribe on You Tube
POTD 23rd June 2019
The rhapsody of rainbow
melts in morose mélange,
the concoction of colors
bleeds bland in
shattered silence,
sucked out
of crumbled core
of sensuous cloud,
soothing rain rinses
the stains in broken hearts,
shades of grey paints
the frayed linen of love,
redundant.
The requiem
of longing patina
of repentant rose
resonates melancholic medley
in the portals of petals,
the faded gloss
turns into tears
in pearls of mourning dew,
desiccates uncared
under the summer sun
of the desert mind,
the wilted flower falls
on weathered gravestone
of spent passion,
departed.
The cacophony captured
in the melody of forlorn music,
chaotic symphony floats
out of tune
on disharmonic wave,
strained smiles displayed
with elusive enactment
in ostentatious podium of life,
songs turn into echo
of convoluted noise
in hollow souls,
pretentious.
The intriguing facet
of listless life
seen entranced
through liquefied layers
of cynical stratum,
configures pessimism
in the sunken essence
of living exaltation,
the apparent aspect
refracts defiled expression
of warped existence,
enshrined.
For the maneuvered inducement
of the compulsive being,
defined by the transmuting tenet of titular uniqueness,
configuring the personified convoluted identity,
changes in the self-devised palette of color mélange,
while the conjured chameleon furtively cocooned,
paints the shifting façade of disparaging deception.
In the ostensible enactment
of the prompted life’s incredible drama,
performance perfected in illusory one-act play,
and with the obsession of passion ostensible,
gilding the consequence crafted covertly
by metamorphic alchemic endeavor,
the surreptitious shift from one actor to another,
is an axiomatic designed drive of ambiguity.
Out of the limelight, the clandestine colors fade away
on the visage of degenerating virtual makeup,
the pallid original face morphs mystically into
the veracity mirror of fragile actuality,
replicating the real rendering of the sublime shape,
painted with the radiance of primal hue
of the unaltered distinctive disposition,
it personified once in the reflected image.
The spasm of contrived perception splits the mirror,
the shapeless shards of shattered reality
scatter as discarded debris blown away by wily air.
Metamorphosis creates the deluding creature,
an alien in its own transformed domain,
completes with the lattice of self-deceit
the contrasting paradigm of illusive shape shift.
For the contrived inducement
of the fixated being,
an aligned identity personified,
changes in self-devised palette
of metamorphosed color mélange,
while the conjured chameleon,
slyly cocooned,
paints surreptitiously
the shape-shifted portrait
d e c e p t i v e.
In ostensible enactment
of life’s incredible drama,
performance perfected in one-act play
with obsessed passion parodied,
gilds the corollary crafted by alchemy,
an axiomatic designed drive
induces the wily shift
from one actor to another
c o n t r i v e d.
Out of the limelight,
the covert colors fade
on virtually made-up visage,
the pallid original face
morphs mystically into
veracity mirror of actuality,
reflects the real identity depiction,
painted by primal hues of facade
of distinctive disposition
e p i t o m i z e d.
The spasm of pragmatic perception
splits the mirror,
the shards of shattered pretence
in the debris of demolished conceit
disappears in the crypt of obscurity
d i s c a r d e d.
The transformation creates the eluding entity,
an alien in its reinvented realm,
completes the illusory pattern
designed by the paradigm of contrast
ingrained in symbolized persona
d i v er g e n t.