Long Enshrouds Poems
Long Enshrouds Poems. Below are the most popular long Enshrouds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enshrouds poems by poem length and keyword.
So easily my brain ceases to be
Lacked in comfort how hectic it could be
Brain cells wrapped around membranes like tree stems
Within the frameworks of the Universe
Brain cells have more mass than stars that compass
So easily my brain ceases to be
Dendrites form the shadows of tree branches
Visually compelling to the eye-minded
Brain cells wrapped around membranes like tree stems
Does this brainstorm begin and have an end?
Twirling and swirling can’t we comprehend?
So easily my brain ceases to be
Medicines that we can’t apprehend
Enabling the brainstorm that never ends
Brain cells wrapped around membranes like tree stems
Mystery enshrouds our Brain’s functions
Those pills blunt and fill those with apathy
So easily my brain ceases to be
Brain cells wrapped around membranes like tree stems
Uneasy and queasy cos my TV set
Is showing another celebrity vet
My legs are crossed tight, just as tight as they get
Has that little dog lost his testicles yet
While eating my lunch, or was it my dinner
The cat on the screen getting thinner and thinner
The head vet was busy, so here’s a beginner
On his second attempt to stick that needle in ‘er
My hunger abates as the scalpel cuts in
And the cyst on his throat splatters poor kittie’s chin
My two horrid teenagers sit there and grin
But my spag bolognese now resides in the bin
The very long glove, that is slippery and wet
Is meant for the cow, though they’ve only just met
The vet seems as happy as any I’ve met
Till the cow follows through and enshrouds the poor vet
With Flopsy’s guts broadcast in X-ray exposure
While Tiddles pukes hairballs inside his enclosure
I wish it was more like a nice glossy brochure
As another castration destroys my composure
Date: 30 May 2019
Contest: What Makes You Flinch
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
I encounter ebbs and flows, a peaceful solace sigh.
Wedged on the cusp of a cliff to endeavor a descry.
I'm heading somewhere to ascertain a fair minding.
Although I've ultimately arrived, I'm still screeching.
We will fit along if we stow away or are helpless.
Those that have grasped the peak by lying guiltless.
We are unfazed to be adept at subduing our dismay.
We've been flung indoors and out for the hazy day.
Into the void, slumped over with crucial sickness.
I'm shouting shrilly into the chasm of nothingness.
Roosted on edge high over the ozone layer.
Where the ambient sound enshrouds a slayer.
We've sobbed, and tears wrapped up swarming.
The receptiveness and plights may be terrifying.
Barbarously bequeath us up owing to our civic grace.
Implicating the harsh rhetoric not to eagerly embrace.
I shout into the darkness, infusing it with pain.
Until the spikes break and the hinge strain.
Since I'm aware, I can reveal my astute mind.
I expect someone to endorse me, to be twined.
We need to decipher how we will sagely shepherd.
Our pyretic youngsters, denied by the ruling, tethered.
Rather than prevailing, they board a void of a subsidy.
They are shadows and abettors in this gnarly debility.
1st place contest winner
Written: December 06, 2021
Pick-A-Title, Vol 27 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Season of dream haze and arctic signpost.
Chill and chap brood whose scattered offspring plummet thermal values as welcome mat for “whiskered” chimney guest awash with bounty.
Thief of sun filled days without a twinge but those universal late December days rendezvous can’t be thrust off-course.
Primal raw wind howl dissing summer’s distant memory - spotty and erratic though it was.
Deck chair, seat of toil free bliss now cold front recess blob.
Mirage or wishful thinking from a wet weather veteran.
We live in fear of reruns like Ophelia or
2010’s black ice.
Storm Force Brian, Mount Fuji on an airwave shrapnel carrier.
Dormant Loch Ness shadow’s fervent air mass plugging festive tunes.
To fuel dispatch and chimney sweep alike a sacred windfall.
For those who struggle just another inroad on an ever
shrinking pocket.
Yet this annual curtain closer has its grail and saving grace.
Dark art charmer lacing every patch for knee high boot crunch.
Architect of igloo closet ski cap.
Sleigh ride bell upon that maligned feast around our globe (Noel hark the alpine carol)!
Bizarre but only to us frostbite souls aloof from glacial beauty.
Deep freeze spirit canvass may not surface.
Christmas anthems booming over frolic footfall streets adorned by night owls.
Chaser lights that gee up gutted ghost town black spot.
Urban ice rink dome another fantasy or wonderland.
Toy shop stock n trade whose only trade is stock.
Colour coded gadget clutching every cell of window space.
Fashion fodder wizards magic spark a toddler’s glee at every turn.
Boisterous strains of Santa rousing inner reindeers - the sort beloved by children down the ages.
Yuletide decor gift band holly bush spike.
Log tossed on fire, kindling stick incendiary, leaping flame enshrouds smokeless polish.
Punch bowl nasal spice so aptly named rum do!
Skim milk skyline flaunts its snow fleck jewellery aloft.
Stars of astral compass spread their twinkle dash on human garlands.
Winter’s stepwise edging in a whirl plume of slush.
Christmas well and truly has arrived
like all December Days.
STILL TIME IN THE DARK NIGHT
In the dark night time stops to flow,
unmoving hands of the clock show
how desolate pathos could be
in wasteland for still life lonely.
Sunrise hour clock maker would know.
Clumped clouds gleam in astral halo,
moondusts flush ground in silver glow.
The light of hope shines remotely
in the dark night.
Mystic hope enshrouds land fallow,
bare trees soak it in wood hollow,
wait for the sunrise, wait to see
clouds melt, rains make green canopy.
In still time hides the bright morrow
in the dark night.
July 29, 2018
Rondeau Poetry Contest
Image chosen : 4
Syllable count checked on howmanysyllables.com
There's something great about a day that's done;
fulfilled or not- yields space for a new slate.
Each sunset paves a path to morning's sun;
inspires to dream about tomorrow's fate.
On pleasant days, sun-setting soon enshrouds
the dusk with special colors in our sky,
like soft pink-orange streaks 'neath shiny clouds
that blend with golden rays to beautify.
What peaceful thoughts pervade the weary mind-
the glow of skies diffused, yet powerful.
New dawn brings hope, but sunsets leave behind
the feeling that the day was wonderful.
This gift at each day's end comes faithfully.
The sun at dusk grants closure- peacefully.
What does he dream going round and round?
Child on a carousel, head in the clouds.
He might talk of the fox caught by his hound;
today he saw angels and he’s heaven-bound.
What does he hope going up and down?
Child on a carousel, head in the clouds.
Some days he’s a king with a golden crown;
he may play tricks, make believe he’s a clown.
~~Building bridges to what the cloud enshrouds.~~
In the next ten years, he'll have ups and downs.
What does he expect of gray clouds?
He will see happiness turn into frowns,
betrayal by best friends, new homes, new towns.
Then in ten more years, he’ll make the rounds.
What does he anticipate of white clouds?
Wife? College? Career? Right now one thing astounds -
he's making memory's bridge on playgrounds.
April 3, 2020
contest: Carousel Picture Prompt Poetry
sponsor: Eve Roper
make love to me in anger tinged with pain
for death is lurking near my soul to reap
the world is closing in, I can't keep sane
at time of death these thoughts alone I'll keep
of right to live my life, they will deprive
a darkness drenched in doom enshrouds my mind
make love to me and let me feel alive
there in your arms is where I solace find
Make love to me in frenzy's maddened pace
my body ravage now to match my soul
sear all from eyes except your angel face
Make love to me and try to make me whole
For death will come with lightening speed I know
What is this life? My thoughts are left to seethe
Rebellion pumps my heart and makes blood flow
make me forget the need to even breathe
Make love to me and let me die tonight
my final taste of life, let it be love
and should I meet with death by morning light
let starlight eyes then take me up above
Make Love to Me....
Eileen
There is no coping mechanism...
there is only fear....anger...and a desire to live.
It’s colder now and seems somehow
more empty than before.
I wish I’d known the future then,
and what it held in store.
No longer is there will of heart
to venture form these walls,
and so I sit alone inside…
when the darkness falls.
Each stone hand crafted for the cause
to block away the pain.
The mortar mixed to guarantee
no feeling will remain.
A mist enshrouds the inner grounds,
with siren’s voice it calls.
To comfort as I drift within…
when the darkness falls.
A subtle shift and weightless drift
are all that’s left to feel.
No sign of any signs of life,
no sense of what is real.
Just drifting, drifting ever on
down never-ending halls.
Forever locked inside my head…
when the darkness falls.
Your smile shines~
as the early effulgence enshrouds
upon wisteria water
echoing ephemeral embraces
on tenebrous turquoise trees
that bear your name.
Your laughters linger~
upon the emerald leaves
that radiate a lilac shade
as the sun goes up
like your eyes that sparkle a hue
transforming into Caribbean blue
on the first glance
of a sweet romance.
Your song soars~
entwined in ethereal ensemble
above each passing cloud
where etched elegies echo
a lost and found love.
That magical morning scene
of enchanted garden near Giverny
unveils a dream I keep
in wild willows lilac leaves
where my story dwells in silence .
The shy sky behind them~
wishes to kiss the gleaming water
where silent sanctuaries are sheathed
upon the indigo shadow,
accentuated by fine chiaroscuro
embracing purple petals
that whisper through silent water
where lofty love story dwells~
perpetuated by each sunrise.