Long Facade Poems
Long Facade Poems. Below are the most popular long Facade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Facade poems by poem length and keyword.
Chalkboard solitude eats at my mind
My fingers leave scars in the written words
And behind me a herd of sheep cries out
As the remaining words run red
And blood drizzles down the board
My thoughts were abhorred
But my actions were lauded
What a twisted juxtaposition
Mindlessness is a cancer
So critical of every flawed detail
But envious of others despite their ineptitude
And fire could burst from my fingertips
You'd never know it from all the silence
And when I finally turn around
What a surprise it is
To find me alone in the white walled room
Dreaming of yesteryear
But there's paint chipping on the wall
And I dig away at it
And behind the whiteness of the walls
Is a mold that runs deep
That's been festering for over a decade
These white walls are merely a facade
For an ugly truth buried beneath
That bequeaths me with sorrow
And when I turn back around
The chalkboard remains
Without any words
"There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.”
-Patrick Rothfuss
I walk with a silent grace...
For I am a peaceful, quiet soul...
But in the darkness of my heart...
Is a story that's untold.
... an intense, brutal storm...
Where the rain's blistering cold.
I'm simply a calm and silent facade,
....a burning rage in disguise.
While deep inside...
The fire slowly continues to rise.
My anger is very slow to ignite...
But it burns extremely bright...
Extremely bright with a blinding light...
I don't like to fight...
I always hold my feelings in tight...
Just like the wolf itself...
My bark's as deadly as my bite.
The currents of this storm...
Violent and strong...
All wrongs are met here,
Where swift justice belongs.
I do not show my rage...
I do not brawl...
But heed to my gaze...
For it is that of a warning call.
Heed my words...
It isn't the angry man's wrath one should fear...
It's the gentle man's...
Hear me clear...
I am one of them...
A gentle man...
A fire of justice...
A testament to the wronged soul.
Zero control...
In my silence,
There's a fury that sleeps in peace...
A violently uncontrollable swarm...
My heart is warm...
But it'll grow cold really quick...
Leaving them worried sick...
So, with this... heed my words.
I am a quiet fury, a storm within.
I'm a force of nature...
When angry, I burn bright...
A destructive beacon...
A horrendous light.
Run once the beast has been woken...
Fear the gentle man's wrath.
I have spoken.
T houghtfully open heart in thankfulness
H onoring God for graciousness, unlimited access
A nd remeber all things in appreciativeness
N ot forgetting air we breath, blue sky we have in excess
K nights and princesses; children of the Living God
S ing a joyful song praising Him don't put on grand facade
G ive of yourself in thanks and rejoice in His love
I nvite the Holy Spirit to dwell within your heart dove
V ictory can be yours each step of the way my friend
I f time in God's presence in praise and worship daily spend
N ow is the time in His presence and purpose to remain
G ratitude said for all of life's pleasures even life's pain.
S tillness and quiet each day spend time thank God for each and everyone
This is a combination Acrostic and couplets..
My understanding that Acrostics do not rhyme but mine is actually couplets written in poulter's measure..A person who sold eggs would sometimes give a dozen eggs for a price and sometimes if the hens were laying extra good a person would get 14 eggs of the same price..Lucky them..So 12/14 in rhyming couplets..
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Contest: Count Your Blessings
Date Written: Monday, November 19, 2012
Finis
Lucubrations fuels ebullience
Unsolicited, revered, and praised
potential literary fete,
(yes a bit hyperbolic),
sans mine posted poems that perambulate
such feedback, whither donning trumped
("FAKE") facade, Oriel sincere
twittering, nonetheless tis great
for an ego striving to maintain
hum bull modesty, yet I hate
to be misperceived as
arrogant, boastful, pretentious,...wait
et cetera, cuz honestly,
these conglomerations create,
themselves, via some inexplicable
literary process which generate
prestidigitation soon after
affixing wired thinking cap,
whereby positioned electrodes exfoliate
on scalp yup thence, off miniature oblate
spheroid (suddenly barren) of golden locks
most soup Priam wantonly depilate
(envision candidate
undergoing biofeedback,
or...captured as bait)
by...yea (of course) alien invaders curious
to experiment, and subject a random pate
with out of this world tests that agitate
most precious anatomical accouterment
'bout size of average poe tate
toe (actually...almost same consistency)
okay...sorry, this chap doth relate
such comparison to
his own cerebral aggregate,
where he starkly realizes
neurological concentrate
takes a permanent vacation
to distant Palatinate
essentially leaving a void, ah...just
perfect for cosmic outliers to allocate
(no...no...no noninvasive, i.e.)
their laser like gizmos scrutinize how
(albeit unwittingly) to ameliorate
writer's block, thus
glad tubby ("Guinea Pig"),
and let abductors amputate
my killed expense trumped ("FAKE")
noggin pulp struggling to articulate,
(hence quite a relief,
you cannot imagine), dear mate
when fiber optic threads of light
essentially painlessly
(rather ticklishly aspirate)
clump of useless gray matter,
yours truly does implicate
as complicit to cause unnecessary
difficulty to associate
with *****sapiens, an extremely
strenuous task, thence joyful to dedicate
(without being headstrong),
an organ minimally missed at any rate
long last free to babble poppycock
oblivious as ambitious readers berate!
I planted the Daffodils in the hills,
You were thrilled as daffodil flowers bloom,
Amonst the sunny summer fields,
Our room filled with perfume of golden yellow,
With view of dew crystals cover the meadows.
Oh joy....
You planted the Jasmine along the fences,
I loved the scent of white night flowers,
Our lives are entwined, two lovers devined, smitten by love.
I planted the Cypresses along the paths,
Across the way from the garden arches,
Amongst the white Jasmine arbors,
And blue Sweet Lavenders near the Junipers.
You were thrilled at the sights of yellow and gold,
Our hearts growed and filled with joy,
Amongst the pretty flowers and brown soils,
We toiled and planted in the sun.
Raindrops mist turn to showers in the early fall,
Water fills the swollen creek,
You were thrilled at the Golden Poppies,
Red bright petals peeked at the morning sun,
Amidst the sound of swishing hummingbirds,
Perching on the sweet vines of Morning Glories.
Spring came with her rain, it's drenching,
Pouring droplets and wet my face,
Rain water fills the over flowing brooks,
Storybooks of river runs in the sun,
Storms and vast gray skies whirlwind,
Amid the freshness, the signing of my heart,
As the Winter cold chill is over,
So far vast above the horizon.
Those Flowering Quints with Cinnamon mints,
Giving Spring mist blisses in mid Summer,
All over the garden, the flowers sprang,
All that then was consumed by my heart,
Green and blue the hues on facade turns,
As water churning, dancing in the pond.
You planted the Jasmine along the fences,
I loved the scent of all the fragrances,
Our lives are enriched and smitten then,
Amongst the herbs and flowers show,
In the middle of Daffodils meadows,
As you promised to love me so,
To no end .... 'til eternity.
Jieranai (Jeri) Maier
May-December @2003
Here I stand, a godless monk
Without account, my soul is sunk.
My name won’t make the Book of Life
’Cause I’ve been such a cruel ex-wife.
I cursed you in a thousand ways
(There’s been no “high” in holidays.)
The one with whom anew you’d start:
I wished she’d crush your faithless heart.
I hoped in Leadville the spill you’d take
Would leave your back with chronic ache.
A gleeful anticipation would start to thrive
While imagining you cut a wire live.
So, here’s my prayer, albeit unholy:
I wish my thoughts were a bit less lowly.
If I can’t be good, at least I hope to find God
So I can achieve a peaceful facade.
Though rage may be slow to subside,
This year I hope to turn the tide.
While never shall I wish you well
Next year, no longer I’ll hope you in hell.
The dame's confession shook me to my core
Her life, just like a script, she did implore
With more emotion than a dame should show
She spoke of feelings that only she would know
She said her words were just a mere facade
That true emotion could not be a charade
It spoke to her in ways no one could tell
Stronger than the sound of ringing church bells
Sometimes a kitten, sometimes a beast untamed
Her emotions knew no bounds, could not be tamed
Locked up inside, a prisoner of her soul
Her emotions, like a rabid dog, took control
But in her heart, a mountain peak would rise
With feelings so pure, it lit up the skies
Most times she stayed in the middle ground
With emotions that could neither be lost nor found
So if you dare to speak, choose your words with care
For she could feel them, as if they were there
Emotions, they spoke to her more clearly than tongue
And any written word, they spoke even stronger.
:: 04.12.2023 ::
I'm okay, you're okay is a mask in the land of pretend.
I see a face in the mirror.
I do not recognize the firelight facade
Is this the real me
hiding a darkness beneath the mask?
sprinkled fairy dust on pores of skin
layered makeup waxed on blemishes
strokes of rouge and fake eyelashes
and with mascara concealed miseries,
am I too pretending that all is well?
festering weary wounds in band-aids,
I do not know how to remove them.
The show goes on...dawn to dusk.
then the music stops and masks fall off.
flecks of sunlight stream through leaves
swirling amber in the last rays of afternoon
I see smiling eyes in the mirror
a real pearl bejewelled face
a garland of white jasmine.
I find the real me.
Our founding fathers showed great wisdom,
Defining our roots by constitutional debate.
From experience against an angered monarch,
The need was seen to separate church & state.
This core concept is now again being questioned,
As the church seeks a larger role to play.
It seems God wants to have more direction,
Towards guiding our lives day-to-day.
My lowly opinion on this topic is critical,
Yet it has little to do with God.
But more to do with rabid fundamentalists,
Greedy for more power & influence behind a facade.
Now I'm the first to realize just how
Difficult this separation would be to apply.
Since there are so many links in our social fabric,
From our 'pledge of allegiance', to the currency we all buy.
Sadly, this evangelical effort, seems to
Press the need for God's voice to legislate.
Although the church doesn't have a clue with
Governing, as long as it continues to serve up more hate.
how stately is this covered bridge
with a weathered and worn facade
a winding road that passes through
and a slow stream view as you promenade
now cracked and split with rusted bolts
the price of age to its sturdy beams
reflections on water to catch the eye
where two in love tossed pennies for their dreams
it stands in contrast to the Autumn leaves
a gray aged skin against colors bright
to haunt the memory of days gone by
when it was needed for time's respite
time will pass, this bridge will fall
pictures kept, remind of memories lost
as all things that have come before
through passing years, we'll measure the cost
8/18/17
contest Covered Bridge