Long Feldspar Poems
Long Feldspar Poems. Below are the most popular long Feldspar by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Feldspar poems by poem length and keyword.
That little girl, Toula, in third
grade stood,
Tears falling down her red face.
Because she had only won bronze
and third place.
Ah, what a disgrace!
Older Toula today, still looks at it
with chagrin.
Though decades have passed,
that very same medal, still does
her ravishing soul in.
She never got over not being at
the top.
Though her life is one of enormous
successes, and anything but flops!
The mystery is, why not throw
that medal away?
Toula still looks at it everyday.
Because....It always keeps her
reaching for the stars.
Not desiring to be part of the crowd.
No, not ever!
Just being her own gleaming feldspar.
One day with God..humbly and forever.
6/23/2019
8am PST
This vivid pink sky does not often visit Nebraska in December
It is a rare wolf moon, few recognize the implied significance
The sage soothsayer knows it is her opportunity
She is closer to the veil tonight than most nights
She chooses a few stones from the path
Wishing one of them was bloodstone,
But chooses feldspar, the next best mineral
Air is colder than usual, she expects to hear owl.
Owl is silent, possibly in hiding from tonight
Disturbances are afoot; you can tell by the stillness.
A she wolf in the distance gives one lone howl
In solidarity with the soothsayer, encouraging her vigilance.
We have traveled to thirty-seven states, the youngster told me.
He is only eight, so this is quite the accomplishment.
I collect one rock from each state, want to see them?
His mother rolls her eyes, as if it is no big deal.
It is a big deal to me; I am also a rock collector.
Sure!
He takes me into his room and pulls a box out from under his bed.
I imagine mica, feldspar, gypsum, glitters of bloodstone and the like.
He opens the lid. The rocks are gray, chalky, and gravel.
“Which one came from Tennessee?” I ask him.
He says “I have absolutely no idea, but aren’t they amazing?”
I think I’ll get him a bag of gravel for his birthday.
amethyst, amber, agate, aquamarine
barite, bauxite, beryl, soon seen
carnelian, chryophrase, cool citrine
diamond, dolomite, delivered by Dean
Emerald, epidite, elusive by far
Flourite flowing next to Feldspar,
Gemstone hit parade, setting the bar
Hematite holds us hostage, said Mar.
Isis calcite showing up imperial jade,
Jasper enters the fray with his own maid.
Karats counted in diamonds, making the grade.
Lapis Lazuli opening your third-eye, a spiritual aid
Moonstone and malachite dancing in tune
Niccolite, and nambulite against the moon
Opal and obsidian making fun of a rune
Pearl, pyrite, periodot doing a swoon.
Quartz comes up rosy, all pretty and pink.
Ruby and Rhodonite sitting on the brink.
Sapphire, serpentine, sodalite sharing a drink.
Topaz, tigers eye, turquoise skating in the rink.
Attention now goes to uvite and unakite,
making friends with vivionite an valencianite
Don’t speak to wulfenite cautions wavelite.
‘xtra dazzling, ‘xtra special gemstones delight
Yeoperite says come meet yowah nut
Zeba jasper and zircon run right into the hut
These are not all the gemstones, but they are a few.
I would like to see a bit of each of them, now wouldn’t you?
Rocks appease me like nothing else can. Best of all, they are cheap, all over the place and the best price.
A born die-hard rock enthusiast, I love hard ones, smooth ones, speckled ones, and crumbly ones.
I enjoy their look, their touch, and sometimes the sounds they make when I hold them to my ear.
Discern feldspar from granite? Sure, but it is usually in it. Bloodstone from amber? Of course I can.
If I keep the beryl long enough, I’ll have a big hunk of emerald, but we are talking dynasties.
Give me something harder please, a new challenge, a stone I have never seen before.
Labs are creating new ones all the time? Oh, goody.
I graduated from rocks to gemstones; it was a natural progression.
Chrysoprase, opals, rubies, and moonstones are my personal favorites.
Occasionally an emerald or topaz calls to my heart, and I add it to my collection.
Unfortunately, my tastes are a little more expensive now, but I still bring home the free ones.
Impossible mission to pinpoint present
such fleeting moment instantaneously spent
according to yours truly i.e. this gent
mind boggled, intrigued, stymied...
courtesy unseen minute
(mine hoot, minoot, my newt...) agent
provocateur stealing every precious second,
whether or not satisfactorily spent
time thief absconds with
most treasured commodity
nary tell tale sign,
where he/she went
allegedly, inscrutably, seemingly...
robbing in plain sight fervent
as greased lightning
ramping, stepping, ticking up
blithely skedaddling across firmament
ratcheting frenzied temperament
upon psyche – regarding current
temporary soul searching resident
unstoppably speeding, jetting, barreling...
trigonometrically calculating tangent
severely distorted against
turbulent kaleidoscopic hallucinatory
backdrop – centripetal/centrifugal adjacent
forces compressing body electric
elongating flesh beyond infinity
diaphanous corporeal essence rent
asunder obviously self evident
Ahab bin to theorize
Pequod now to thee extent
overactive imagination lent
allows, enables, and provides
poetic license allotment
extemporizing this entire extent
stretching corpus callosum
to breaking point as well cogent
continuity fractured no different
than usual literary pablum
wariness cautionary brief adage,
when traipsing thru apparent
gobbledygook on par with
puttering around greenacres,
vis vis equivalent
ensnared within wide
webbed whirled sand trap event
chilly eroded Earth's landmasses
made of rocks and minerals
bajillion years metamorphosis refulgent
glistening silicon dioxide
in form of quartz
feldspar and mica supplement
granules ergo timeless saga never ends
or begins analogous
to Möbius strip lambent.
Shipwreck in the Vegetal Mirror
In every shipwreck my hair floats motionless like a fixed spyglass,
my nails write your name on waves that stand frozen in motion,
I choose the hallucinating stillness that runs through frozen space,
unsatisfied with your blind iris that sees too clearly in the darkness of light.
I place above your eyes cold lightning and warm nightshade,
the hypnotist passes standing still among the sleeping-awake poets,
they pull from their hair the night birds singing in the noisy silence,
I will leave the windows closed wide open for the motionless travelers.
I wait to pass as a swimming statue through the dry water of your dreams,
confident in my uncertainty aggressively gentle through the solid waves,
you must break the mirror to keep it whole and unfractured,
it's difficult to reconstruct the figure that's born destroying itself always.
My liquid half dries up dreaming of the phosphorescence-darkness part,
the blind feldspar eyes see the half of blood transparent and thick,
the vegetal tiger carnalizes in the plant-animal part that breathes flesh,
halves that multiply decreasing in the eternity of the infinite fraction.
The hour when carnivorous plants close opening wide voracious,
they have freed the passersby through a paralysis that sets them in motion,
the hole in the window is a full emptiness through which I see the unseen visible,
I watch myself lurking with vampiric carelessness at the exit of sleepwalkers.
It's like in an opaque mirror but more transparent than the absence of clarity,
more ferocious in its gentleness than the silence that screams in whisper,
with each lightning bolt a star shoots backward remaining eternally in place,
I'm told silences and a thousand more words that will never be spoken.
We can be bored amazed or restart stopping ourselves brutishly lucid,
our exercises with our heads in the root of subterranean celestial air,
floating buried in the bottomless soil of sleeping-awake consciousness,
where the end begins ceaselessly and the beginning dies being reborn eternally.
tryst of the moon and the stars
- oh how far
off, when the greed of war
spoils with feldspar.
eruptions of not the loins
but clashes of steel —
political coins
care not how one feels.
a lightning grip on lovers,
mocking, celebrating their aloneness.
the dark hovers
over the waters of Loch Ness.
spouse weeps.
tears constantly fill
the freshwater deep.
the warmonger monster would’st kill.
any great and honorable name
that can be caught in the web —
her man would never be the same,
adrift in the ebb.
she tries to reattach limbs,
pry open his hopeful eyes,
fish for him with sermons and hymns
but he believes in Nessie-lies.
tryst of the moon and stars
-oh how far
off, when the greed of war
spoils with feldspar.
1/13/2021
Despite the pulsing pirouette of urban thresholds,
coruscating catalyst amid detachment,
of golden spoke carousel magnetism,
circle-shape swivel platform roundabout,
that spreads incipient wish fulfilment caper,
as townscape dweller devotee who revels,
in gargantuan silver tinged mineral rush,
of prodigious scoop simolean ascent,
whilst duty bound vociferation from the margins,
will enlist majestic magnanimity befitting,
one of fundamental fortunate flair such as I,
yet one’s habitat has been subject to gauche portrayal,
shelter from Olympic speed amorphous target setting,
where serenity in its multi form expression predominates,
as insidiously potent though urban zeitgeist is,
the off peak bonhomie provided by one’s abode,
must underpin a validating resonant counterfoil,
that lustrous seam jewel-embedded notion,
commonly referenced as unswerving loyal cabal,
though hybrid nuanced fusion on request,
is such an option for assiduous assimilation,
there is no hint or faint suggestion in the slightest,
that one should jettison endearing aspects of street esprit,
and the cataclysmic upsweep inherent in its brief,
the adrenalin so integral for buoyant enterprise,
deep equanimity and raucous daring should coexist,
and not a juxtaposed anathema that clashes,
they converge on several sprouting plots,
contrary to glib assumption blindly trending,
to be unflappable should not imply a bland persona,
effervescent office tumult wayfarer,
still quite the icon in yoga leaning domed quarter,
diffusing stored exuberance in feldspar chip backyard,
where gorgeous inlaid stream’s sunlit gurgle,
is that interfaced amalgam as companions,
from a myriad of disciplines beehive swarm,
to absorb one another’s acrobatic zest,
and synthesise its hub with meditation’s equilibrium,
mantra magic mediating mirthful mayhem,
yet inveigling a crimson ribbon of tranquilness,
to mingle with a whirlpool suction entropy,
in an atmospheric crucible of nonchalant ferment
It's DNA
a stream of genes and chromosomes in feldspar
that dictate whose children we become and are,
who we look like
the color of our eyes and hair architecture
our stature, physique and bone structure;
the formation of our brains
where thought processes condition us and train
adapt and adjust to the environmental frames;
what we learn and how we grow
but there it stops and ends,
that moment experienced when
we no longer change ourselves
but stagnate in our independent steps
little girls and boys with mind muscles flexed
growing wise and mature in attitudes
or stuck woman and man bodies that exude
remaining the little girl or boy
forever destined to play with toys.