Long Exhales Poems

Long Exhales Poems. Below are the most popular long Exhales by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exhales poems by poem length and keyword.


Eternal Breath

Eternal Breath

Each time I laugh out loud           
I feel a little cloud
Because as my breath exhales from me
I hope it’s not lost in eternity.

When you pull a face you know
From your parents you did grow
We take on some of their ways
Be it from genes or length of days.

Is that smile from mum or dad?
Or the ancestors we had
Each one passed on their last breath
None really lost in death.

For the last breath that you breathe
Is the one that will not leave
I kissed you dad as you passed away
That tearful and such heartfelt day.

But dad as I kissed you 
I inhaled your dying breath
But you know you live in me
It was not the end in death
 
Your last breath you did leave
I breathe it now and know
That when my time is here
My eternal breath will flow.
 
My dying breath I leave
For my sons their lives to lead
Each breath that we all take 
Through each journey that we make.

From where our seed began
The birth of earthling man
That first created breath
Is eternal, not stilled by death.

© GG 8/11/2013
Form: Rhyme


A cold monolithic grace

shadows stretched
from unblinking stone
a sun dares trespass
it's obsidian skin cold

wind whispers unknowns
of forgotten wars
iron tears flown

upon obsidian flank, rust
earth exhales silence, ancient 
shrouds frozen breath, dust

within its hollow soul
pushing the rank crust
pulse, violet dark

strange geometries bloom

in the frost upon a base, lost 
flock of silent wraiths, gather 
circles unknown speak, daggers
 
ravens scream, unseen
taste of ash n bone
bitter stone

in the air somewhere lingers
broken metronome, marching
sounds all shone

nowhere home, north 
a ragged crone, standing
cold monolithic, grace

waiting, watching all alone

Premium Member One With Mother Nature

Mother Nature maternal winsome hold;
exhales sweet air from sun up til twilight.
To the farthest height in the skies, birds enfold;
blueness stream favorer lustrous moonlight.

Sweet amber honey lures its stinging hive. 
She gazes upon the red horizon;
raising a buffet of elements strives;
dislocating her body and wizen.

In her wits end delight, in warlike rage,
waging the seasons, dividing them in halves,
offering everything, despite her age,
trailing shadows like wakes that it must have.

Tugging at her breast, masses left; the wrath
orphans and widows in the aftermath.

6/13/2017
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Harvest Soon

Karma walks the many roads
	forks at paths of diversion
		with signposts trivia directions

She rests at home in herself
	multiple voices finding congruence
		convenes unravels gathers lose threads

Wholesome gentle nothingness ensues
	from inside where streams of consciousness
	        flow from wetlands and delta to sources and spring

Markers show the way forward
	through olive plantations and citrus’s scent
		as she licks her lips glows and remains

The kiss of life firmly on her forehead 
	third eye forming a wondrous triangle
		with bright almond eyes and desire

Passionate moments reflect in her fortune
	as an amber amulet rises once more and again
		when she in-and exhales sweat vapours of love

A myriad of past roundabouts has finally
	squared circular transcendent motions
		of miraculous moons and one wheel of life

Seeds have been sown and roots have grounded
	Anima and Animus are quivering in anticipation
		as Karma’s soulmate settles the shivering mountain

Karmus has appeared on the horizon for the feast of 
        two crescents all in one and one in all forever
	        when climaxes mount under a star-studded sky

31st August

Premium Member The Long Monotonous Lament Of The Almighty Lambis

Long after its death where dipsomaniacs and dreamers
Have gormandized its spicy meat, its shell still breathes
Emitting a monotonous sound to wake-up babies, toddlers
Mothers, fathers, cousins and soldiers carrying wreathes.

The lambis exhales a sound of patience and resilience
It is a symbol (for Haiti) of hope, pride and perseverance
Haitians are born fighters. Haitians fall and get-up
To fight daily. Haitians, with a smile, will never give up.

The long monotonous squall of the almighty lambis
Can traverse the craters of the mountains and appease
The giant waves of the raging rivers. Listen to the sound
Listen to the bells of freedom, wit and liberty abound.

Copyright © December 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
Form: Rhyme


Whispering Shadows in Twilight

The light withdraws—
                   not abruptly, but with the grace
                of someone tiptoeing from a room
             where memory sleeps on every windowsill.
         Sky smears gold across the edges of goodbye,
       and rooftops inhale the hush of coming dark.
     The world holds its breath
   while shadows begin to
slip silently
          from the ankles of trees.

                   They stretch and reach,
             curling like ink spilled in reverse,
           writing forgotten things in soft grey,
         and I watch—
     not with fear,
but with the ache
      of remembering what I never quite knew.

                          In the hush,
                    the shadows begin to whisper.

              Not in words, but in movements—
         a tilt of a leaf,
    the sway of a branch,
       the slight retreat of warmth from the stones,
             the silence between wingbeats.

                         They speak of things  
             the sun never says aloud—
       of old stories kept in bark and moss,
   of the names of winds no longer called,
  and dreams that folded themselves
           into the creases of dusk.

                     Somewhere,
             a child once stood on a porch,
        counting stars before sleep claimed her.
          Somewhere,
   a letter waits unopened,
  the ink slightly blurred from time,
       its promises softened by shadow.

                     And in the violet distance,
        twilight walks barefoot
               across the fields of once-was.

                      It hums.

     Not a lullaby,
         not quite a dirge,
               but something in between—

             the hymn of in-betweenness,
                   the breath
                        before
                             the dream.

            And as the sky exhales its final gold,
     and night opens its dark and endless wings,

                         I listen.

                              I listen
                                   to the
                                     whispering
                                       shadows
                                         in
                                          twilight.
© Evelyn Hew  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Concrete

Premium Member The Curse of Castle Ravenloft

In the halls of Castle Ravenloft, Strahd is the perpetual sigh of the stones themselves, a fallen lord bound within his domain.  He is the weeping sky of Barovia, casting an eternal shadow of gloom over the land he once sought to protect.

Once, a warrior with a heart so bold, Strahd’s life was a vibrant banner, his deeds in battle a rousing story.  But that was a lifetime ago.  Now, he is the curse that ravaged time and space, a raven-haired, pale-faced phantom, the embodiment of a love twisted into a ceaseless obsession.

He is the castle looms, a silhouette of fear that watches souls caught in a dreaded place.  Strahd is the restless hunger, a consuming fire fueled by the betrayal that damned him.  The mists swirling around Barovia are his silent, stern command, the very breath he exhales to guard the borders of his haunted realm.

Strahd is Barovia, and Barovia is Strahd, a timeless tyrant steeped in regret and pride, with centuries of darkness for a bride.  He is the eternal echo of a heart that once beat with passion, now cold, relentless everywhere.

In halls of stone where shadows lie,
A fallen lord beneath a weeping sky.
Strahd, the name whispered in the gloom,
A master bound within his own dark tomb.

Once, a warrior with a heart so bold,
Whose deeds in battle were a story told.
He sought a love, a light, a saving grace,
But found a curse that ravaged time and space.

Now, raven-haired, with a pale, cold face,
He watches souls caught in this dreaded place.
The castle looms, a silhouette of fear,
And Tatyana’s ghost, forever near.

A restless hunger, a consuming fire,
Fueled by betrayal and a dark desire.
The mists obey his silent, stern command,
Guarding the borders of this haunted land.

So tread the paths of Barovia with care,
Whom Strahd von Zarovich is everywhere.
A timeless tyrant, steeped in regret and pride,
With centuries of darkness for a bride.
Form: Narrative

Nightmare

Blood stained eyes 
Gaze upon innocents sleeping form, 
Malevolent intent 
Spoils the promise of blissful slumber 

Beauty immeasurable, 
As naive eyes twitch with dreams 
Of purity and grace

Seething abhorrence 
Guides twisted hands 
Towards violent deeds

Warm sweet breath 
Exhales from un-kissed lips, 
Wet with remembrance and anticipation 
Of life’s wonders yet to be lived

Horror screams 
From now waken eyes, 
As an incestuous destruction 
Of one’s self is committed

And the very soul of god 
Is ripped from the now ruined vessel
Of what was once, 
Innocent’s sleeping form.
Form:

Quiet Thunder

Far away, out in the evergreens, comes a tumultuous sound of nature
So distant yet so near, magnetic arms of serenity just waiting to allure

High, rugged mountains, a perennial playground for big goats and big cats
The desolate valley to the foot, a vestige of meekness and a suspended moment of wildlife acts

The constant flux of a raging river, as the water thrashes against the rocks to and fro
A lake that echoes the sweet sound of tranquility and stability, a place where the ducks can go

Tall pines and almonds wavering here and there as mother-nature exhales from her breast a wind of exuberance
Sun flowers and daffodils basking in the light of the sun, a picturesque moment for romance
Form: Prose

In the Shade of Love

~

Crystallized moon beams,
fractured light of endless desires
shimmer on you as our eyes meet
beneath a canopy of gemstone brilliance
Pearl buttons glisten as fingers touch
and your smile grants permission,
leaving me breathless

Serenity of the night serenades
our hearts in silent yearnings
Your skin, sweet of perfumed nectar
scents the evening in aromatic siftings
A sultry sigh floats wispily to the heavens
as we lay entwined on feathery grass
exploring each other amidst whispering winds

City lights twinkle, reflections on the bay,
unaware of our love, our moment
Leaves trickle to earth like tiny wings
as I gaze upon your silhouette,
mysterious against this velvet sky
Still beauty falls like summer rain
drenching my sight with you

A full moon stares down smiling,
happily enchanted by our movements
The distant horizon mirrors us,
lingering upward at your charm,
feeling every pulsation of affection
Blissfully seeking deeper meaning as
you gaze down in hypnotic peering

Harmonic exhales sing in a sensual duet,
echoing through tree lined vistas
Increasing in tempo, you fall to my lips
dampened by melodic rapture
Fevered vibrations rhythmically sway,
while constellations dance,
effervescent patterns on an ebony abyss

A shooting star trails your murmured gasp,
comets collide within, intensely exploding,
illuminating our endless dreams
Simultaneous sensations glisten,
ecstasy quivers in stardust sprinkling
on our hearts as the evening blushes
in the shade of love
~

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