Long Fascination Poems
Long Fascination Poems. Below are the most popular long Fascination by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fascination poems by poem length and keyword.
If i could take a wild guess
How we landed in this mess
It would go back to the time
We never took the chance to find
Out anything we need to know
For helping our love start to grow
We just jumped into the fi re
Hoping that this new desire
Would be enough inspiration
For keeping up this fascination
And give us the ability
Bonding more than sensually
Showing us the consequence
Of not feeling more intense
I need to make this more explicit
There’s only one way we can fi x it
By making this new guarantee
Never too act selfishly
Trying an experience
To look through eyes of innocence
Seeing love beyond the surface
Giving us a special purpose
For finding the love we both seek
And giving it a chance to peek
Into a love so true and pure
There is no way to ignore
This warm glowing adoration
That we now see radiating
As we collapse and give in
To this new found feeling
That has made us more complete
As we’re both learning to see
The shallowness we both displayed
Hurt our hearts as we betrayed
The honor and integrity
That is very plain to see
All it took was lots of learning
There is more to love than yearning
Oracle
(Noun : a priest or priestess
acting as a medium
through whom advice or prophecy
was sought from the gods in classical antiquity.)
He speaks in Virtue
She is a sign language interpreter
He delivers in messages
Sad news. Sad news. Sad News.
It is all about an old scarf; old, but a nice one,
An almost invalid try to cherish a long-forgotten memory,
As life talks in many ways, through ups and downs, glum and glee,
Also, in a subtle tone, through the tremendous lens of wiser perception,
Only to find…
That fine line…
Between memory and fascination….
As time goes on…
I realized slowly…
In all the last efforts to see her glowing in my mirror,
In all the extra time of stirring to make the dish as perfect as her,
I was a mere shadow of a proxy, figuring a rather twenty-four-hour job
Never quite touched the finish line, never got spirited enough to cope up.
A sigh of relief, a deep memory of belongingness, could, still, hold the essence
An old scarf, an embroidered one, only enough to hold on to the long, long lost one.
It is all about an old scarf; old, but a nice one,
An almost invalid try to cherish a long-forgotten memory,
As life talks in many ways, through ups and downs, glum and glee,
Also, in a subtle tone, through the tremendous lens of wiser perception,
Only to find…
That fine line…
Between memory and fascination….
As time goes on…
I realized slowly…
In all the last efforts to see her glowing in my mirror,
In all the extra time of stirring to make the dish as perfect as her,
I was a mere shadow of a proxy, figuring a rather twenty-four-hour job
Never quite touched the finish line, never got spirited enough to cope up.
A sigh of relief, a deep memory of belongingness, could, still, hold the essence
An old scarf, an embroidered one, only enough to hold on to the long, long lost one.
"Pony"
Taken
Lead
By Whisper,
Bit
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Old Town Road + Pony Mashup"
Lil Nas X Ginuwine Pomplamoose
(Extended Music Video)
https://youtu.be/OTdSOXUT5lM
"My fascination with letting
images repeat and repeat
- or in film's case 'run on' -
manifests my belief
that we spend much of our lives
seeing without observing."
Andy Warhol
1.
"Lady Godiva", 1898, John Collier, artist https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_Godiva_(painting)
2.
John Collier, Pre-Raphaelite
http://www.historyofpainters.com/collier.htm
3.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_Godiva
4.
Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pre-Raphaelite_Brotherhood
Re-uploaded 5.11.2020.
Deleted 28.10.2O20 due to Troll interference.
Originally uploaded on 13.8.2020
Mystical amour of moonlight moth's whimsical lure,
a glowing flame in sensual saffron gold attire;
restless tease with every breeze, gilt-cavorting contour,
pale green fluttering, her wings stirring his breath afire.
Lilting lightness in beaming brightness, her dark eyes shine,
in the night renewed flight, fragile love on agile wings;
aerial display of desire's ache amaranthine,
hungry heartstrings crave what evening's ebony brings.
His illumination sparks her imagination,
heart’s replete, breathless beats, she basks in his halo-heat;
fascination with chance her hot romance, damnation,
flame’s fickle spurn, wistful wings burned, by love bittersweet.
Susan Ashley
October 18, 2017
~ First Place ~
Contest: Favorite Rhyming Poem Ever
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Ambivalence, fascination, hesitation,
the whistling whine swirls about my ears
and in the blink of an eye
images flit and flutter around me
engulfed, swarmed and mesmerized by the sounds apparition
blue skies float in, tossed upon a foamy wintry clouded sea
and then in an unexpected flash
a brilliant glow streams along the outer edges of time
and breath chills cling to the frosty air
rising steam, foaming in exhilaration
suddenly, abruptly, complete.
Rendering experiences of Flight of the Bumblebee
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtAu7xkwNjQ
For Line Gauthier's
Creativity in Visual Arts
2/15/19
SCRUPLES
an enduring
culture
with
charismatic
sensibilities
audacious
&romantic
cajoling &
simmering beneath
increasing
impulses &
desires
with disturbing
designs so
symbolic
the mood
surprisingly
changed
with troubling
speed
until it
suddenly
charms
with
poignant
effect
the fascination
complex
&
multifaceted
in character
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
A grain of Sand
A grain of shifting sand, lying upon life’s shore.
Captured –carried within turbulent winds, doth soar
into the unknown ether, until, tis no more
that created this heart, a heart became so sore.
There isn’t the heart – would never even the score !,
only try to understand ?, that what has come before
has created these stone walls, walls without a door
through which one might find what is in store
for this heart that seeks to touch this spirit once more.
Fairy tale
Life – fairy tales from our active imaginations.
Stories created, that direct us towards our destinations.
Stories we create, eventually showing us our limitations
upon this, our journey into the realms of fascination,
the energy, the force, the essence that drives us to creation
in this world, a world for many lives, in subjugation
of self, of soul, of spirit – life’s forces in domination !,
should we not be capable of reaching a realization
that all there is, is our mind’s manipulation
of, and into what may become our next evolution
and what could become our final solution
on our path, the pathways of convolution
that may lead us to some kind of conclusion
as to which road we journey upon towards – evolution.
B. J. “A” 2
March 29th 2008
Life’s Barbs
A lovely – cogent, fettle – without a rudder to steer.
Darkness the only music, from her eyes I am able to hear.
Darkness the only sound, coming, that penetrates my ear.
It’s the void that punctures, permeates all that I fear,
fear that keeps you from reaching out, from coming near.
Minimal sounds come to express, to communicate
what lies within the recesses, what may your fate
be, as your mind closes in on you, nothing to state
of that which you, your thoughts, feelings have to lie in
brings a pain I feel, a passion for- nothing- it is a sin.
Would I, could I hold open those closing doors
on the light – once so bright – settle the scores
that fate has locused – focused it’s place of destiny,
that place you have to trek alone – for all eternity
B. J. “A” 2
March 31st 2008
Mary Davis dwelled on a fruit farm, adoring the company of animals.
Most beloved was sociable Sam, who made her giggle, like bubbles!
Whereas Mary was seven-years-old, Sam, her lamb, was still a baby,
Given to Mary by best neighbors, when they played in orange daisies.
Sam's white fleece was soft and fluffy, like a mound of feather pillows;
Like clouds of endless, turquoise skies, blown by breezes, into billows.
Sweet-natured Sam and Mary's bond, was special. Soon inseperable!
As one, they chased sun; like heaven seen, through rainbow's portal.
Friends found fanciful, skipping Mary, in the far-out days of fabulous,
Under butterscotch sun of fascination, soon cherry red, as an amulet.
Fabled days told a faceted story of time, in faddish phases of flowers;
As family finished delaying finally, visiting dreamy, dusk's lemon sours.
Sam was usually someplace to be seen, but sometimes he wandered;
And Mary sought him out-like privacy loving night, soon squandered.
The 'sapphire tower' bore rich blooms, as 'zebrina lifesaver' remedied;
And 'sundrops primroses' were lingering, as the silken breeze hurried.
'Bee passion' blooms generated hysteria, with the fragrance of fairies;
As summer saluted lovely 'queen's tears.' Some nomads never marry!
Mary was feeling ill one day. It soon passed, but she was late to class.
It grew later, as she looked for steady, silent Sam, in tall, green grass.
Sam was nowhere about, though they always walked to school together.
Soon worried Mary found the school in uproar, like redbirds of a feather!
Sam was running from the teacher, in the classroom of much disarray;
As the children screamed with laughter, loving the opportunity to play!
Laughing herself, Mary coaxed Sam over. Glad to find her, Sam obeyed.
The chuckling teacher allowed Mary to take him home, where he stayed.
That day became a topic of legend and lore. A song was written about it.
It soon grew old and beloved, like a starbound comet, swift as a rocket!
'Mary had a little lamb;
Its fleece was white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.'
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Strange Unicorn of the Sea,
we solved your mystery.
Of Arctic Ocean fame
you are Narwhal
as named.
Unicorn
of Sea,
our fascination
crept for secrets
you had kept about
tusk's outside nerves;
what uses do they serve?
{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{
Allows you to communicate.
A great aid to seek a mate.
The perfect sword to joust;
the feared enemies to oust.
Safest water space ensures
by measuring temperatures
and the water pressure too,
gauges spaces to get thru.
Long pick to break the ice;
an excellent, sharp device.
Pinpoint your hidden prey-
use a sensory-based way.
You measure out at sea;
saline levels guarantee.
Survival tools evolved,
so the puzzle's solved.
}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
Deep ocean mystery
our Unicorn of Sea,
you are Narwhal
by name with
firm Arctic
Ocean
fame.
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N
A
R
W
H
A
L
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A CHRISTMAS AGO
My Christmas present list
Every year
Got longer and longer,
What to buy
Whether far or near
I certainly have always got joy
Out of giving,
Just two months ago, I thought
Things are getting out of hand,
What is Christmas all about,
Faith and family and
Being together,
No matter in Iceland
Or at the equator
Whether you are freezing,
Or in frazzling hot weather,
Most important, is
To be all together!
Used to rush out and shop
Up to Christmas Eve,
Ticking off this one and that,
Is this perhaps true,
Do you see yourself,
Is this a fact?
When as before,
Read, or today 'Googled'
Before World War one
Money was scarce,
Yet Christmas was fun!
Enjoy this wonderful day
For what it is,
Buy Christmas crackers I agree,
Pull them, bang, between
You with glee,
Hear the Christmas carols,
On Christmas morn,
Perhaps make a toy
For your boy,
Dad has tools and imagination
Feel free to craft with
With creative fascination,
And mummy,
Can make her yummy
Christmas cookies and
Perhaps write a poem,
To her little girl
Put a rag doll together,
Out of straw, material
Feather and leather!
Smell the turkey,
And potatoes, roasting,
Hear them sizzling,
Laughter and merriment
For the less fortunate,
Eating a piece of bread
Under a bridge on cement
We should take stock,
Not easy when your
World is a whirlpool,
A rat race,
Begin to face,
Reality and give to the poor,
Next Christmas to enter
This door,
You will do with
More ease
Give to the poor, please!
Save the world from plastics,
And fake gifts,
And Christmas suddenly
Will have meaning,
The world slowly
Recovers and shifts.