Long Evocative Poems
Long Evocative Poems. Below are the most popular long Evocative by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Evocative poems by poem length and keyword.
Soul, slow down your flight
A kindred soul dare to delight
In your tryst when you hold her tight
Savouring every breath, every moment
Shunting aside pain and torment
Shutting out a callous comment
When your priorities say yes
Bless contours on tours that grace
The face so graceful it needs no stress
To pour plenty of luscious love
On affable aphrodites appointed from above
Lots of love given beyond a wondrous wave
That craves for evocative elevation
With or without any standing ovation
Granted without any egregious enervation
Brought about in season of penury
In love, in warmth, in sapphire and topaz jewellery
In deals and seals savoured this century
Bankrolled by synergy straws
Punctuated by gregarious guffaws
Whose music mellows jaws
Silenced and suppressed in studios
Whose walls muffle audios
In preference for videos
Flowing and blowing in a rapid motion
In sections and bisections in a mission
Whose prime impression slays depression
Letting loose emotions in a moose, a goose
Navigating limpid waters near the sluice
So limpid and liquid it lets joy juice
Caress and address the pleasure
Lovers lift from sorrow in the right measure
That promotes votes for the erasure
Of memories of salaries
Posted and costed late in lapidaries
Exploited to a vacuum in aviaries
Where white doves fly
In unison to ply
Their trade that laughs at a lie
Spread at high speed
An innocent self concept to weep
Long and hard when sorrow strikes a deep
Blow at the core of a halo
Separated from Pablo
In a motion so slow
It tethers tweets
Posted alongside sweets
From minds so endowed with wits
They cause a frown to fret
It saves a regret
For an open secret
That the grapevine derides
Stressing illusionist divides
From society get no free rides
As you wake up
Shove away the cup
Deserving no sup
In your college
In your village
In the privilege
You feel extended
Over and above a libation blended
By brewers you'd suspended
To usher in an era filled with amity
Blended with a daily dose of sublimity
To ascertain no more calamity
Rears its ugly face
In full or in a trace
As you withdraw for good from any rat race.
Written: August 16, 2025, for contest by Unseeking Seeker
Line of inquiry:
"conjoined with the whole - we play our life role
exuding a scent - granting love consent"
************
Conjoined with the Whole
Not as sovereigns,
but as sylphlike strands,
woven into a ductile tapestry—
Each act of kindness forges
a bond within the communal consciousness.
Love is not a shadowy incantation,
nor a glamour to inveigle us into isolation.
It is hortatory, beckoning forth...
a rosy summons to convene,
amid the clangor of squalor and sojourn
to supplant the slipshod ache
with a warm intention.
We are not mere wanderers
adrift in nebulous vacuum—
We are emulous embers,
thirsting for the amaranthine,
avid to imbue our days,
with seraphic resonance.
Community is not a chimera,
It is pavonine in its iridescent truth,
multivocal in its sweet sorrow,
edacious for connection
but never laden with avarice.
We do not dismiss the burden—
We collocate it, we share it
withdraw from silence,
and cast aside the Icarus myth,
a tale of solitary flight,
Even the untamed child.
crumbles for the quest of kinship—
Even the weary elder winnows,
the soothing balm of a neighbor’s touch.
Love sanctions its courtliness—
not merely a whispered sigh,
but as a philanthropic deed,
a calyx protruding,
amid the clamor of desire.
To love is to be an iconoclast
to find solace in a gentle embrace—
to forbear the yearning
to anathematize others
to witness the evocative elysian—
in the eyes of the distraught.
We are not aphonic.
We are harmonious,
even in our disconsolate times.
We are evocative, full of meaning,
even when our souls feel drained.
And when we reflect,
We accomplish this together—
in the emollient of shared grief,
in the soothing touch of shared joy.
So let us frolic with abandon,
Let us explore the hidden meadows of our lives.
Let us gather in our joy,
transcendent in our understanding,
Our sense of self is transient.
Let us be love—
not as an elusive dream,
but a tangible act.
Let us be united with the whole.
And play our life roles.
with eloquence
vibrancy,
and grace.
They write in the language of perfume
flowery powdered words all layered
colours rising and lowering
in different light spectrums
as if the reader could discern
without wisened translator
their seductive dimensions
conveyed within
their small larger other worlds
notes upon notes, heady notes,
their subtle infractions
like music tinkling through
the brain bleeds, poets
and their otherworldly refrains,
naphthalene aired for old time’s sake
shaken out like clean crisp white sheets
billowing in the translucent lingerie breeze,
bedrocks shaken
the little flocks
small black murders flying
provocatively erratic stirred up
off the cobalt page
into an evocative
higher wider
elusive space
taken shockingly aback
where the heady blast
of Spirit of Hartshorn
shakes buried lover’s awake
to walk barefoot and naked
blindly in love
touching each other
through the long wet days
sugar-coated addictions
tall poppies crimson pimpernels
wading nubile through blades
of silver moon grass
licking their ankles and heels
raising their prim outskirts,
forbidden territories
within the rising mist,
the ever present,
like a breeze,
kisses their ripe
cherry orchards
unending hunger
satiated, all is manna
as they meander
through daze of
dusky dawn valleys
those garden of eden thighs,
the transparent,
slithering like hands
caressing treasure trunks
ivy leaves for plucking
further up above
the high waists
to touch what
wastes away, unheard,
what beats there,
where the crown sits
like some holy being
under its ribbed cage
red ripe like a seeded apple,
that place, just there, beating
singing some kind of hymn,
like a regulated anthem,
they're way up into their feels
like some devilish chase
like heaven's come
calling them away
They write in the language of perfume
flowery powdered words all layered
colours rising and lowering
in different light spectrums
as if the reader could discern
without wisened translator
their seductive dimensions
some things are better
left unsaid
like this Magdalene,
K.I.S.S.
Candide Diderot. ‘24
O glorious Autumn of melancholic
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly serene.
Bursting into the swelling copses
And invading between the
Dwindling fields:
Auburn, primrose and lilac views -
Abundant with seasons
Celebrations
That so magnificently infuse!
Glowering in simmering sunset,
And spluttering in misty dawn:
Afire with all the orbs oozing
Revelry,
That upon barkened furniture,
To thus gild - and resplendently
Adorn!
Now is the time
That dry tinkling leaves
Give musical resonance
To a breath exhaled from
A breeze...
Fanning the boughs roaring flames
That each out-stretched branch
does eagerly seize,
Fired from the eternal torch
That immortal Ceridwen tirelessly
Sought;
Whilst I hang upon evocative
Memories
That this arresting moment briefly
Caught.
Blazing with a consummate passion
Ignited from a poets grappling
Thoughts:
The Muses to this joyous splendour
Were summarily summoned
And brought;
But as elusive as the enchanting
Notes
From the intoxicating pipes of
Evasive Pan...
So as elusive the words of the
Unwritten verse
That so evade this singular man.
So burn! You gaily painted colours,
Within abandoned restrain,
Your dizzying carousel
A whirling kaleidoscope
Upon an artists ever changing frame.
Soft ochres and dappled browns
Mixed with vivid orange and crimson
Red...
Applied lavishly from the palette
Of Artemis
Over which the vibrant pastes
Are thinly spread.
A riot of pastel shades
All exploding forth -
With the raging power of a
Supernova
Of an immense, dazzling force!
All hail to the almighty:
From the devout to the Divine...
And all hail to the Grandeur
And Majesty -
Of his awe-inspiring design!
being treated for fructose spasms
during one of the last movies on Earth
after the great Enema of 2012
when the heaters were on high
the authorities were called in
but his claims were all backed up
by the logic of chimes and daggers
creatures of comfort unite
you have nothing to lose but
your milk mouth and baby spoon
I went chatty and personal
diving from couch to chair
on a sponge mop broomstick
the room remained a mess
but the leaps were longer
what but imagination is boundless
so he stamped and splashed singing
through the sewers of ideology
and carnival freaks with wings
made all my dynamos hum again
thanks to the exponential growth rate
of an adequate knowledge base
but then contemplating death
can make you crazy enough
to assassinate your biology instructor
and succumb to the lure of bland abjection
and an archaic tidal wave of pessimism
and the hedonist's morphological pedigree
a prized quality among the really sage
and their many colored appendages
we all know more than we let on
it's a conspiracy of noise and silence
attained through bribery and deceit
where substitutions screech and skid
where sugar cane machetes dance in the rain
and the Moon weeps with a broken heart
made me write on her blackboard 100 times
cognition is not possession
until his soul jumped out his eyeballs
caught trafficking in non-essentials
with its lures and scuffles
but then it is a nasty game
played by hungry cartoon caricatures
tricking children out of their food
where every day and night is Halloween
until the euphoric chameleons
in a herpes garden of delight
of decadence infantilism and sleep
whistle through their nose hairs
beauty is tenuous who is to protect her
awaken her choirs bloom her lilacs
and rainbow tresses and panting mamaries and
oh dear impale me dead where was I
the suction had his mind in a spin
with each gust of wind his forehead
began its evocative dans mort
don't try this at home kids
just kidding its OK to pantomime
ancient actors before their campfire
as you can well imagine
If I, ever again, caress my nostalgia to those dense greeneries, to those forests , out there
Breathe air through my lungs, fresh air
Touch every single tree, the spiral plants, a trivial beauty, unnoticed, unknown
I will be my best mannerism there in apology , as I , who destroyed the greeneries, for those,too long, all gone.
For the rattling sounds that shake through the ground, to the unsettling one, I , the hopeless one,
Will plead to the authority, to whom it may concern “ Close the surging one, that rises to the wild,
Open thyself to your soul within, to preserve the forest we endeared, the river that knew us, once for a child.
If I, ever again, caress my nostalgia, to the deepest sea
I will rinse all my fallen leaves, still lingered in me, in nothingless, that could camouflage a sin,one scene true.
A fathomless try, still, too sharp an abstraction to even try to articulate , any further, as all may know
It did take a whole world within, where they sighed and shrugged , for a long pause, an utter nothingness. Too,
Then, in desolation and remnants , we shall stand to rise. “Be thyself, in purity and truth. The sea is in you.”
Through the surging foamy oceanic high, learn to try, to wash away the filth, for an expiation. Salvation.
If I, ever again, caress my nostalgia to the mountains, out there
My absentminded gaze will find at last , the frozen white, a spellbound sparkle, on the mountaintop
The morning sunlight will touch the icy zone, the impeccable beauty of a silence, too piercing a chill, to sustain
I am certain , it will be a mind blowing oblivious nemesis in me, they all knew the dark shades in me
I will find an apologetic alibi , to trace you back , Where I , and the crowd, the uptown talks merge on the verge
And I will petition to understanding ones, to assure to be
An evocative mountain top , still covered in snow, may revere for you,
for an eternity, blooming in the most vibrant fall colors, in becoming so!
(Incomplete)
In the realm where passion blooms,
Beneath the moon's enchanting gloom,
A melody of love unfolds,
Inspired by tales the heart beholds.
Oh, in the whispers of the Spanish night,
Harmonies' notes ignite the light,
A flame that dances, wild and free,
A serenade that binds you and me.
Guitar strings strumming, like a lover's touch,
Igniting embers that yearn so much,
In every chord, a tale untold,
Of love that's fiery, and oh, so bold.
Spanish Fly, a potion so divine,
In the rhythm of your heartbeat, I find,
A symphony of passion, a dance so sweet,
In the twilight where two souls meet.
Strings that play a virtuoso's embrace,
Guiding us through this timeless space,
As David's voice serenades the sky,
Our love unfolds, like Spanish Fly.
In the echoes of that timeless song,
Our hearts entwined, forever strong,
A ballad written in the stars above,
A testament to this boundless love.
So let the music carry us away,
To a place where love will always stay,
In the essence of each note's sigh,
We find our bliss, like Spanish Fly.
:: 11.15.2023 ::
NOTES:
As a Poet, I would say "The Spanish Fly" is a mesmerizing and evocative poem that weaves a tapestry of love and passion. The poet skillfully employs vivid imagery and rhythmic language to transport the reader into a realm where emotions are heightened, much like the influence of the Spanish Fly itself.
The opening lines set the stage with a vivid description of a romantic atmosphere, using celestial imagery with the moon's enchanting gloom and a melody of love unfolding. This immediately captures the reader's attention and draws them into the poem's emotive landscape.
The use of the term "Spanish Fly" serves as a metaphor for a potent and enchanting force, bringing an element of mystery and allure to the poem. It becomes a symbol of the intensity and intoxication of love, expressed through the harmonies and guitar strings that ignite a flame dancing wild and free.
The poem "Love of Pink and Blue" tells a tragic tale of two lovers, Romeo and Juliet, whose love was doomed by the feud between their families. The use of pink and blue as symbols of their love adds a unique and poignant touch to the poem.
The first stanza sets the scene and introduces the central metaphor of the poem: the love between Romeo and Juliet is like a bloom of pink and blue. The colors are described as bright and true, which implies a sense of authenticity and sincerity in their love.
The second stanza begins to introduce the conflict that threatens their love. The pink of Juliet's blushing cheeks and the blue of Romeo's passionate eyes symbolize the purity and intensity of their love. However, their families' feud serves as a barrier to their relationship, emphasizing the external forces that prevent them from being together.
The third stanza introduces the clandestine nature of their love. They meet in secret under the moonlight, and swear their love to each other, which creates a sense of intimacy and sincerity. However, their colors are described as clashing, which hints at the inevitable conflict that will arise from their relationship.
The fourth stanza describes the tragic end of their love. The families' wrath is too great to overcome, and the lure of their colors ultimately seals their fate. The use of the word "lure" is significant, as it implies that their love was irresistible, but ultimately destructive.
The final stanza emphasizes the tragedy of their love. Their hearts, represented by the colors pink and blue, are broken by the end of their relationship. The use of the word "fate" implies a sense of inevitability, and the poem ends on a mournful note.
Overall, "Love of Pink and Blue" is a beautifully crafted poem that uses colors as a powerful metaphor to convey the tragedy of forbidden love. The language is evocative and the imagery is vivid, which makes for a memorable and emotionally resonant reading experience.
As I sat the serene waves were evocative of those pleasant days,
The setting sun made the myriad memories come alive,
The waves to and forth: encircling my legs like meanders asking questions in
this vast sea of life,
Embarrassed I had so long prevaricated about the meanders of life;
“Doesn’t life seem megalomaniac or is it worth living”?
Suddenly a scorpion bit me as if to say “Never” question the Divine.
Blood started oozing out: Red the color of peril,
I accepted the whole episode with alacrity;
A virtuous spell began to be evoked,
I lifted my feet and laughed as if to provoke ‘the Divine’,
In a moment all hopes and inspirations were reduced to fabulists,
My other feet drenched in water waiting to be free seemed like a hassock of
everyday nitty gritties,
A smile adorned my face and I said, “Never stop smiling even in the darkest of
dark”.
The pain in my feet was making me bellow my heart out;
A tear trickled and it too fell in the vast megalomaniac sea of life,
I walked back looking at my footprints in the sand that were jeered by the
seashells,
They said “Atleast we are not selfish like you!”
That led me to another question-“Why does everybody unleash a cannonade
criticism against his or her rivals?”
A soft wind blew to say –“Because they are not free”,
Then I realized how meek I was:”Never” had caught me which is the clutches of
society!!
I prayed kill that “Never” kill that “Never”!!!: let everyone be free,
A sense of exhilaration was induced in me,
The interregnum between by answers had all these years been filled with
that ‘Never’,
All that remained of my life’s wisdom was stubble: a stubble of ‘Never’,
Why are we taught to say ‘Never’;
I pray to ever (freedom) to come and remove this ‘never’.
Form:
Panegyric praising phantasmagoric, albeit...
unseen prophets providing perspicuity...,
Who commune with yours truly
within state of mind between
sleep and wakefulness
methinks disembodied spirits
infiltrate mine consciousness
while suspended within trance.
Meditation invokes light hypnosis
gently beckoning me to surrender self
fearlessness disappears relinquishing
clutched grip upon ethereal essence
without substance, I wonder
how emotions, ideas, longings...
can weigh so oppressively
as if such elusive thought processes
(however they become manifest
spontaneously crowdsourcing then...
just as quickly re: blink of eye
irretrievably lost in space (mind)
farther than outer limits of twilight zone
realizing futility to conjure them back
synonymous when this (hymn) mortal
male i.e. contemplative,
intuitive, ruminative...
nonetheless unable to recall revelatory
insight...,and/or when steeped deeply
within sleep (ah...such dynamic,
magnificent, vivid...dreams) more so
pronounced since relying to function
almost half dozen medications
(to mitigate predisposition wrought
courtesy of anxiety,
ocd, panic attacks..),
yet upon opening
(even without disruption)
access to such excellent
personal profundity...slightly biased
denied, analogous to
steel door shutting tight
with nary an iota remembered
to self interpret what subconscious
exposure means, a motherlode
rich with material
to write poetry or prose
tis quite bothersome
this sudden disappearance
evocations vanishes without a trace
aware no intense concentration
will jog abundant cerebral activity
forever out of reach
Argh...such evocative manifestations
serve as private cable channel
obvious drawback reruns
cannot be rebroadcast
aware (of course) nobody boot me
agog with exhilaration,
fascination, galvanization...
to plumb depths into world
I will never fathom
further than 20,000
leagues under the sea.