Long Exhaled Poems
Long Exhaled Poems. Below are the most popular long Exhaled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exhaled poems by poem length and keyword.
Sunlight surfaced at the breach of dawn
It climbed salty rungs to emerge from the sea
When fully risen, what had been spawned?
A molten fireball cast from the dragon's breath,
a firey yawn exhaled in languorous flight
searing tangerine flames across the horizon
Daylight drifted over waking valleys and hills
in dappled luminance of shimmering gold
It danced in pirouettes upon my window sill
and chased shadows from my bedroom wall
until it tumbled on the bed where my love slept
He stirred, I smiled and then wept with emotion
at the passion glimmering in drowsy jade eyes
With each rise and fall of his muscular chest
the heated flush of desire within me burned
Sinewy arms reached out for me...
"Come back to bed," whispered from his lips
and my gown lay puddled upon the floor
I'd had enough of watching sunlight's strolling
for it had stolen too many moments next to him
My toes were cold from morning's chill
but it was not from Winter weather that I quivered
It was time to savor the sweet warmth of love
from his fingertip tracings upon my skin
I dusted a single crimson lock
from my mouth
as I whirled my body
Away, away--
from the crusted white paint
and
single
paned windows.
My favorite shoes met blackened tar
in light, airy steps--
Left, then right.
Shifting my WEIGHT
wind in my eyes,
my hands grasped
two shiny plastic handles
below--
Left, then right.
Balancing myself with determination,
I s l o w l y turned my body,
aligning it with your gaze.
I remember,
your eyes were perfectly
CENTERED
in the door frame.
I looked into each individually--
Left, then right.
Each pupil was dilated with images:
colorful crayons,
straightened teeth,
paid tuition.
The wind suddenly escaped
my eyes and r u s h ed
to your throat.
You exhaled it from each
of your lungs--
Left, then right.
The wind carried y o u r w o r d s,
vibrating toward
my ears
in a weakened croak.
“Take Care."
As the wind made its
wayBACK
to my eyes,
the creases on our mouths
loomed upward...
I silently curved my body
BACK--
The wind waiting
behind me, ready to carry.
My hands GrippeD
on two shiny plastic handles,
It lif t e d me away--
Away from the crusted white paint,
and away
from the single paned windows.
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!
When struggling with addiction
to uncontrolled
and biologically controlling agents
and competitive outside agencies
Earth is helpful in mentoring patience
with failures of humane self-control
to extend,
feed and water
and grow mindbody wealth
of unwalled health.
So, when possible,
as possible,
extend your compassion
away from impatience
with your own owned egocentrism,
from which we all LeftBrain dominantly suffer,
and, instead, turn toward actively felt RightBrain
curiosity
About understanding your addiction cycles,
addictively felt relationships
vacillating in-between fear and anger
over inadequately safe and nourishing
cooperative humane attachments,
Like, for instance,
the primal neuro-sensory positive
happy
healthy resonant co-empathic
co-relationship you ego-shared
with your original eco-EarthMother
red-blood empowering
And enlightening green MotherEarth cooperative
co-invested
co-passion.
This active curiosity
about your own history of feeling lonely,
unwanted,
detached,
shunned,
marginalized-marginal
unnecessary
dispurposed,
depressed
unfound
unfounded
floundered
Is not where
and when
and how you might also remember feeling
curiously connected,
High serotonin
and deep dopamine enriched,
resonantly and resiliently climaxing
health optimizing ego/eco-mother
bilaterally enlightened connection
Re-connection to our Universal Sacred Promise
of each integral Ego's portentous meaning,
secular purpose,
re-connection to pre-historic memories
of perfectly compassionate nature inhaled
and spirit exhaled
Naturespiralation
warm and active
high and deep
light empowering internal/external
natural and spiritual creolization
scientific and aesthetic
Truth and Beauty
Here and Now
resiliently co-climaxing
curious impressions
Of secular addictions
to sacred resonant re-attachment.
O! I must walk the hidden span
That Generously embraces ‘Here’ and ‘There’,
And it is made of Glass, of Glass Impermanent.
My very misted breath, exhaled, is not enough
To show it visible
To show a way
Across the dark expanse
Of frozen night…
So, I must feel my way by barefoot steps,
And hope I do not step off it
It stretches from the Time I spent with You, My Love,
Unto the Time, interminable, I spend with me.
Sometimes, to urge me on, a Cracow Man
Who broke a tiny corner of the Iron Curtain
And slipped through
A Survivor born, born after, in Germany
A fair cousin beats back the dark
(She cared for me, when I was numb
and all the other tongues were dumb
for what to say)
And bright Irene who loves,
And cannot wait for Spring
With broken porcelain, sea sand, coins and sparkling moondust,
They show the way, spread these
Outline the Glass
But I must pass
My test with God's Bright Ray
(And I can scarcely find the Lamp
Within myself
To turn it on –
The switch, I fumble…)
But, Now!
Back to Hope in a breath!
Beyond the End of the Bridge the Night is glowing Midnight Blue
The Stars like Quasars, sing!
Elysium Lights my Way!
And You are there… and You are there…
And soon, it will be Day!
Flying free
in rooftop ecstasy
Raptor's wings direct
with feathered pins strong, erect
swelling mountain chests
then wings
brought safely down
protecting Earth's
most sacred wounds.
Standing Yang
with wings wide spread
Left then Right
rebalancing
Bent over filling in Yin's flow
extending gratitude for out
bold attitude brought back in
for more sincere
out wanting more
more
more sacred practice
mindful praxis
moving axis
Practice outside Yang
with Yin within
happy together once again
in this million hole
with pole
extravagant excursion
upstream North
growing deep down South
flowing in/out surfing mouth
Dancing round root chakra
river source
to up reach
down stream right
to left dividing swings
from swelling North
gone sacred South
River's needy mouth
to feed
time's seas
of timeless paternal peaks
opposing valleyed surf
inhaling exhaled goddess needs
Healthy seasons too tidal full
swelling now and why and how
toward empty graying skies
Anthrocentric light
invites this ecocidal night,
upstream
patriarchal might
toward down wombed woman times
round cycling source
of Great White Father fright
Root wise spread out predation
penetrating river's source
shifting toward rich mountain rivered valleys
flowing up
then down White streaming pole
with Black uncovered silenced hole,
designing doublebinding
God-dressed nature's inspiring
spiral views
Inviting dawn's
past sunrise dance
sweeping light
round downstream
falling failing
EarthTribe's meager
flowing sacred
rivered night
Flying free
on rooftop dawning
ecstasy.
Between breath and becoming,
we paused—
not broken,
not whole,
but held in the fragile architecture of almost.
Your shadow leaned into mine
like a confession afraid of its own voice,
and time—
time did not move forward,
it hovered,
like ink refusing to dry on a trembling page.
I remember the nearness of you,
how silence carried more weight than speech,
how the space between our lips
felt wider than oceans,
yet softer than surrender.
We were not strangers,
no—
we were something far more dangerous:
familiar souls
hesitating at the threshold of forever.
The paper beneath us had already begun to tear,
edges frayed by moments we did not choose,
stained by mornings that came too quickly
and nights that lingered too long.
Even then,
love insisted on sketching us in blue—
gentle, aching, unfinished.
There were words we never spoke,
but they lived anyway—
in the tilt of your head,
in the quiet plea of your hands,
in the way my heart learned
to reach without touching.
And oh—
how close we came.
Close enough to taste eternity
on the edge of a second,
close enough to believe
that if the world exhaled differently,
we would fall into each other
without fear,
without fracture,
without the weight of what could be lost.
But almost is a careful artist.
It does not rush its work.
It lingers,
it stretches the moment
until it becomes memory
before it ever becomes reality.
So here we remain—
pressed into the quiet ruin of a beautiful hesitation,
preserved in the language of what never fully happened,
yet never truly ended.
And if anyone should ask what we were,
do not call it absence,
do not call it failure—
call it this:
a love so real
it trembled
at the edge of becoming,
and chose,
for reasons only heaven remembers,
to live forever
in the tension of the almost.
On a dark, melancholic night,
she sat completely still.
Earnest.
Head up,
eyes frozen,
lips sealed,
breath silenced,
hands crossed,
ankles shackled,
heart blindfolded,
brain screaming nonsense,
occupied with millions of thoughts
Loud and monotonous.
Everybody had told her
to stop listening to her heart;
that emotion,
though fluid, has to be caged;
though wild, has to be tamed.
Her skin cracked in protest,
and a white butterfly
with a damaged wing
fell at her feet,
voiceless,
almost invisible.
She didn't notice
the fluttering butterfly,
for her brain was screaming:
"Run!"
Her brain was racing,
chasing time,
anxious and out of breath,
blurring her vision with illusions.
"Run!"
Her brain screamed again,
and, thus, she stood up
so abruptly she lost herself in vertigo;
and, moving her foot,
she heard
a voice.
"Mind the butterfly!"
the voice echoed,
yet her head was frozen,
her skin was breaking
under the pressure of
heavy, anticipating stares,
twisted and eager to judge;
their lips were, slowly,
breaking into crooked,
predatory smiles:
ready to devour her,
to feed on her innocent mistakes.
"Save the butterfly!"
The muffled voice repeated,
rushed through the air,
to shield the blurred butterfly,
and she almost took a blind step
when his arm spread in time
to shelter the broken butterfly.
She gazed in awe
into his eyes.
His eyes were, cloudless, untamed;
free to flow all over the space,
to submerge the world with
lucid cleansing emotion.
His hands, warm and open,
ready to inhale the universe,
were guarding the delicate butterfly
with the greatest care.
Within the skies of his boundless palms,
the butterfly exhaled the dust of pain.
Elixir of life rushed through its wings,
spreading them to embrace the sky,
and yet he was a king
with a million things to do.
He was a king,
real, adored, and prosperous:
never has he ever
stepped on a broken butterfly.
Poetry soupris
Soupris being French for sighs
And we all breathe them
At different times in our lives
We breathe them in relief
And maybe in our sleep
Exhaled after we've railed
Against the nightly thief
Poetry soupris
Potato soupris served cold
Alphabet soupris
Spelled out in the bowl
Sighs of relief
Sighs that matter
Sighs of release
In thoughts that scatter
(Carole Landis
"The sigh heard round the world"
Only Twenty-nine
When we lost "your baby" girl)
Sorrowed soupris
During suffering endured
Godly suffering
Soupris when your cured
Soupris relenting
Served during your sentence
The sighs, the soupris
As we seethe through repentance
Now that the war is over
And you have traveled home
Awaiting and waiting
To breathe out this soupris poem
Let the soupris fly away
And all things al dente (to the tooth)
If this were the Seventies
I’d hope your needle finds its groove
Keep paying your dues when liberalism
packets profits from your sweat;
and don't mutter a disapproval word...
when your stomach growls for an altruism
that enriches the lives of the smart,
while yours is not considered sacred.
The horrifying screams
that were suddenly halted
by an exhaled breath are fragments
of all hope and the beginning of all strife;
they remain inside and make
your agonizing soul bleed:
don't think of possible revenge...
while smelling the stench of the blood.
It's the ultimate self-sacrifice
preventing the horrendous carnage
of thousands who cling to life,
barely making their ends meet,
just picking up their breadcrumbs
and continue the squalid living and ache
for the abundance promised
by a liar who only sought gold.
Is it possible to avoid cruel glances and hatred feelings,
not hear threats that disquiet a tranquil life
meant to be lived by all who seek happiness,
not disharmony, conflict, or insidious rife?
Is it human to break hearts and rejoice
over their grievances caused by malicious deeds?
Mend yourself for the actions that brought ambivalent moods
of distrust, why hurt others and not be punished by the same token?
Don't keep spinning your wheel...it will stop and bring you down!
The horrifying screams that were suddenly halted
by an exhaled breath in distress have retained
their fret to encounter more frightful images that prolong
their play of mischievousness among enlarging shadows,
no powerful light will make them vanish into nothingness:
there's no redemption without realizing the gravity of wrong.
instead of crunchy bread.