Long Evanesce Poems
Long Evanesce Poems. Below are the most popular long Evanesce by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Evanesce poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: November 26, 2025
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She cares for the pedigree cattle,
their fleece brushed into luster,
domesticated dogs prowling the yard,
obedient to her behest.
She is a good mother—
her hands sow carrots,
her voice a catchphrase of sanctity,
her smile a tiara of sky foam.
However, while holding a feather…
she teaches me to wring its neck.
While holding a feather...
she shows me how love can writhe.
While holding a feather...
she whispers that mercy is moribund.
The cloudscape of her face shifts,
dusky shadows grate against the light.
Her gregarious laughter,
threadbare and spasmodically sharp,
becomes a panegyric to discipline.
She is a good mother—
who rakes the soil with staunchness,
who rescues the stray,
who feeds the wilted wisteria?
Yet she is also the provost of violence,
who teaches catharsis through hecatomb,
who makes me smear myself to hubris,
who shows me that sanctity can evanesce.
Her lessons are sacrosanct,
her love ubiquitous,
her burden ossified in my bones.
And still, she is a good mother—
with a bird in my hand,
with a bird in my hand,
with a bird in my hand…
Crazy COVID-19 has us all in a tizzy
Too much information making all of us dizzy
Most who’ve been exposed self-quarantine
Running out of toilet paper making us mean
“Social distancing” is the phrase du jour
Scientists scrambling now to find the cure
Hurry!
(Chorus)
COVID-19 apolitical
Proper testing so critical
Slow response hypocritical
Naysayers hypercritical
Division and strife
Don’t take my life
Give it back!
What started out in China as an epidemic
No respecter of nations totally pandemic
All around the world countries shutting down
Even New York City looks like a ghost town
Is there no end to this viral mess
As our way of life’s forced to evanesce?
Scary!
(Chorus)
COVID-19 apolitical
Proper testing so critical
Slow response hypocritical
Naysayers hypercritical
Division and strife
Don’t take my life
Give it back!
March 14, 2020
Coronavirus COVID-19 Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Team PoetrySoup
The unfolding of a bleak mid-night moon,
Formidable, throbbing, ghostly gray cloud,
Swirling in rage, with wordless eerie croon;
Affecting considerable angst shroud.
Ravens frenzy, divergence flutter coup
Through impenetrable tangle of trees.
Sinful, depressed, slate shadows wily drew,
Leaden silk veil amid deceptive ease.
Pinion she lies there, a dismal, frail frame.
Fragments of her life evanesce apace;
Consume by repugnant stanch, it laid claim.
Crumbling world turn upside down, fearful place.
Neath celestial heaven alone she lies,
Looking up, overcome by life, with leaden eyes.
4/4/2020
My feline bittersweet awakening
came decked with golden trim of flawless days.
A time it was to frolic and to fling
ourselves in grass, all afternoon to laze.
Together we were fearless, wild and free,
a noble lion and his lioness.
And sadly, neither one of us could see
that passion such as ours would evanesce.
Our error was believing that each kiss
could carry us. . . that love could multiply
or even match July’s exceeding bliss.
By summer’s end, our ardor had run dry.
A lion’s appetite can satiate,
and love - less noble then - will soon abate.
Posted 6/11/11/ Now used for the In the Name of Love Contest of Shadow Hamilton
Deceit of sun when rays are still but porous;
unwelcome thief, afford my dream more seconds.
Some dappled shadows flit through mystic keyhole;
alight upon pellucid remnant image.
I stifle yawn as thoughts embrace the vision.
My ever-restless spirit merits story
which doesn’t evanesce at first obstacle
encountered when issues foisted upon me.
Embarked on travels, trinkets of high finesse
that crossed the boundaries of reality.
The past firmly imbedded in the future,
illuminating a path predictable and
imbued with fantasy and peccant grandeur.
Adroitly I manoeuvred through initial
self-doubt that plagued a multitude of people.
Circumlocutory whim of eidolon
expertly gathered evidence to support
demand that’s straddling realms, but I will resist.
I read the missive through and then carefully
enfold my dreams in cocoon, preserving them.
Unpleasant facts I spat out like an obol
that’s placed under tongue of recently deceased.
The critics can wait with Charon for day of
reckoning – future set aside for visions.
My dreams swim at the edge of river’s conscience.
Expectations made dreams luminesce brightly,
but withered in morning sun’s naïve splendour.
Like sands in the hourglass, the grains of wisdom
filtered through consciousness and needled thinking.
I set aside the search for epiphany.
On asphalt, wet with blood and sweat (down streets with no address),
there lay a man, snuffed by the Man and left to evanesce.
The Man then strode along the road and smiled at his success
and, cavalier, he bought a beer, sat down to decompress.
A life was gone, but day wore on, the sun awash in heat –
the riddled head no longer bled, concealed beneath a sheet,
and passers-by began to cry, were sobbing indiscreet’,
while holy bells in distant hells began to moan and bleat.
In heaven's eyes (no one denies) due process is decreed,
but down below, where burdens flow, it rarely can succeed
and certainly not for those distraught, benighted in their need,
so Men in blue (you know the crew) thought nothing of the deed.
Though just eighteen, a little green (was still his mama's son!),
adored by all, but left to sprawl in webs of hate, undone,
the youth was shot and left to rot, but never held a gun,
so people cried and wondered why'd the evil deed been done.
The sheriff said "forget the dead, his crime was black as slate"
and in the rush to hush and shush, he hissed "I'll tell you straight,
that boy, today, was on his way to rendezvous with fate,
so now you know – I gotta go, it's gettin' kinda late".
Not satisfied with those who'd lied, some took to fill the streets
with peaceful cries neath blackened skies, were paid with clubbed retreats,
cruel gas cascades and stun grenades, then days in jailhouse suites –
though curfew's on from dusk till dawn, each night this scene repeats.
With exits barred, in came the Guard to rumble and repress,
for people stray both night and day in search of some redress.
The city's scarred, the houses charred, the locals in distress –
with cut or bruise, they still refuse to kneel or acquiesce.
So choppers fly above the sky with whirling, twirling blades
and drones in flight within the night erase the renegades.
The tarot cards and crystal shards reveal the masquerades –
the beating parts of diamonds’ hearts forever club the spades.
Now puppet Pols are making calls and acting out charades
(like shouting loud within the crowd, and marching in parades),
while underneath, where lies a wreath, the hope for justice fades.
Yet, freedom waits behind the gates, beyond the barricades.
25 Aug 2014
Writing
Our first meet and I held my tender pen,
Paper in the other hand ever since then,
School magazines, college journals and small stage,
Poetry became an addiction with growing age,
Writing my true emotions in words sublime,
Ink became deeper in colour with time,
Was in hiding till discovered a poetry forum,
Not to behave wild and follow decorum,
Skills sharpened by grinding at the soup,
Positive feedback by a magnificent group,
Vibrant contests strike the chords to ponder,
Comments and wishes evanesce my somber,
Profession is for a living but writing a passion,
Ideas turn to words, a pen's compassion,
Writing is purely to gratify the insatiable soul,
Achievements in literary world is not a mere goal !
August 11th, 2014
Contest 'writing' by Regina Riddle
Ranked 4th
Poet- Dr. Upma A. Sharma
Now entered for contest 'The sweetest touches of the verse' by Gautami phookan
A skyscape floats with light's threads
Suspended in an unknown hemisphere
Of eternity, a pure innocence
Where billion meteors , stars evanesce. I feel
Its rivers and heat blending as one drift,
numberless upon the ladder of creation...
Like a pilgrim of life breaking a thrilled stun,
As the grandeur of matter and blue fire
Ignites dawn's birthing , twilight's falling;
That each motion of a planet knows its pull
Before whirling amidst heaven's ray . I pause...
The god-child in me sees all brethren worlds
Allowing a force to bind with a holy order
That assigns each ringlet its fluid continuity.
I pause...moved by a galaxy that circles
From a flight roaming to greet my breath
Through seasons' journey , knowing my soul
finds its comfort beyond earth’s frontiers.
Kim Morrison's Soulful Words
by nette onclaud
terrene is vacant as void is vibrant
sensations, perceptions, objects, subjects
evaporate then wander cofibrant
dimensional world ceases all effects
dichotomised self dwells only on Earth
formless expanse evaporates desires
core awakened eclipse memory and mirth
spirit rhapsodic outside every mire
mind free from flesh revels in pristine bliss
earth wind fire water ether appear veils
disappear cyclical clocks no remiss
raptured crystal core perfumes golden grail
complexities cease, thoughtforms evanesce
anaharta achieves nirvana, naked
__________________________________
Placed 7th : Premier Contest
May 26 : Sponsor : Unseeking Seeker
(not to take too seriously; I think I am immune
to my "enemies" by now!)
How near to us are foes we can’t resist
when cells, like terrorists that we can’t see
accumulate! What parasites exist
within our very homes! We can’t be free
of them, and even the perfectionist
can’t rid his castle of the enemy.
They have no need of camouflage. They breed,
for on those cells sloughed off our skin they feed!
Though microscopic, they are numberless.
For those with allergies, the “mighty” mite
can wreak some damage. Nasty, they possess
the air we breathe, the beds we use at night!
And they will never simply evanesce. . .
To kill them off requires a constant fight,
but no one, sadly, perfectly defeats
them, even vacuuming and changing sheets!
Inside the fridge, on counters, in the sink
lurk others. Do not be too much at ease.
The very sponge you’re using, which you think
is helping, could be spreading a disease!
Who knows what swarms in water that we drink,
on spinach leaves or just a piece of cheese?
How fleet is time; how bleak to have to spend
it on a war we know will never end!