Long Figment Poems
Long Figment Poems. Below are the most popular long Figment by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Figment poems by poem length and keyword.
Like an eye looking out through black and blue night.
Scintillating squint in Dead of Winter; looking through
Slat of the Midwinter blind. The Canadian waning of light.
I could have been listening to a sermon, sitting on a pew.
Caught the “deer in headlights,” before the eye closed.
It was like peeping through a hole of the universe; gold.
Tree branches spread out, as if fancy’s figment disclosed.
I’m open to chiaroscuro and the Creator’s diurnal hold.
Could have been an angel’s flashlight, looking for a fleck.
Perhaps where Heaven touches earth, that is so cold.
The wind twines with hymns and the flurries hit the deck.
A groom carries a splendiferous bride across the threshold.
God’s natural art emboldens impressions with constant sear.
The intensity both bold and minute embrace our existence.
Climatically they manifest, grab hold, redirect, and adhere.
Never ending dispersion of colors and seasonal coexistence.
Is my notepad a blank space,
canvass or image-ridden spot,
thoughts of aqua bead elation,
mesmerise beyond the fence,
they jump gaudy traffic lights,
but runaway relish cuts wild shape,
when fantasy and environment,
a seamless transit might appear,
notions spiral in frothy oceans,
as time a spring time winger,
unfolds, unveils, unfurls,
its unique ruby nugget chain,
a doorway widens wondrous wares,
I am wide awake to treasures,
set on blaze by rapid prompt,
pencils, crayons, brushes lie down,
to attention writer’s tools,
and a dab of paint on rim,
I’m this usher pulsing conduit,
verily at the cusp of opus,
that has a charging current,
to be found heartily exuded,
must this inbred dalliance,
count for that mint broadside,
as I dwell behind an urban hedge,
the water of wafer thin wetness,
I peer at whilst straying lazily,
to pick up the city rumble,
to avoid that red blush tumble,
into pop up pool endowed,
with variegated plant life enshroud,
frangipani, star jasmine, golden cane palm,
exotic edge encircled feast,
schools of fish in wagtail swarm,
aquarium exhibit for marine throng,
fascinated by the plethora of genus,
and mindful of early dawn tread,,
figment is that candle to nourish,
in saliva swirl anticipation ahead,
that bright mark one might conjure,
as the verse weaver weighing contour,
synonym, wordplay, idiom equivalent,
sudden splash of ink,
indignant worst hand scribble,
gathering, assembling, unifying,
morning hours a speedy sequence,
noonday intermission, afternoon stretch,
evening getting close,
one on a journey might amass,
inspired phrases for posterity,
I wonder has my time come or gone
In case you're wondering what's in my heart
It's LOVE my friends, pure and simple LOVE
Now that I've reached this advanced age
I look back and realize love is all I've ever wanted
Didn't ALWAYS feel that special thing I was looking for
But who ever does... it's a figment of the mind
Everyone's definition of love is unique and personal
But the basic underlying theme is the same
Most times it doesn't need to be said
It's a feeling of happiness and indescribable joy
Like no other we have ever experienced
I have loved more than once, most of us do
In my years on this wonderful planet
Some I would call flirtations, some ran much deeper
Some were within my reach... some were unattainable
I would not trade any of those experiences
For a pot of gold... they were worth much much more
Now that I look back and reminisce
I am thankful for all my happy experiences through life
Because they have made me the man that I am!
When the dusk bleeds
epitaph roses,
and the blackbird sings
wilted elegies,
I search for a glimpse of gold
beneath tender ingrains of
soundless tears and sightless fears.
But to feel the broken wings of life,
must I breathe coffin-laced vows
amidst the haunting air
that tastes like stone-sleet sorrow?
For I’ve long been a phantom bride
to the deadliest fangs of the devil,
veiled in vicious violets,
throned in the tempest of torment,
plagued by a curse
spelled as lethal love,
concealing threefold threats
between vampire verses,
with moonlit musings
stuck in the ice-cold
embrace of death…
O raven heart, what am I to trust
when bluest bruises are believed
in the figment of fog’s fine art,
cornered in the catacomb cacophony,
choking the chorus of mourning?
I walk on sharpened eggshells,
afraid of the unwelcome fist of abuse,
with ashes of promises~
fed from the claws of
the beloved Satan,
cloaked in Romeo’s ruby ruins,
reciting sepulcher chants,
confusing the sun in my soul,
constricting the tunnel of trauma,
exhaling the naive
rhythm of my name.
As I am the essence
of collapsed crystals,
a whimsical wreckage,
ostracized and strangled,
while silence knows
the seething symphony of shame.
As tomorrow is a sickening cyclone
awaiting to condone patience,
humming heinous hymns
to soothe the scarred cracks
that grew within the hellish haven
of wicked wilderness,
that homed corpse flowers of fragility,
oblivious to the pain
hanging on hollow walls,
highlighted with
gruesome glows of glistening grief,
when truth is
obscured in strained stains
of clandestine chaos...
I hope it isn't asking for too much
When I envision a dream date
In the form of a romantic dinner
With a well behaved chap,
Who will be able to respect me;
From the facets that make me up
To the flaws that decorate my personality;
And who will not be bent up
On seeking in me, a girl his mother
Wishes me to be!
I hope it isn't asking for too much
To be holding hands and gazing at the stars
With someone who will be able to love me
For who I am just as I will be loving him
For who he is without changing anything in him!
Yet, he will have to be someone who will be
Ready to follow me from time to time
In those areas which I would know best
And even understand my apprehensions
If I sometimes refuse to follow him
And do things his way!
The most important part of it
Would have to be that my dream date
Accepts, acknowledges and even bows down
To the fact that I am a maiden completely lost
In love with my God and that He remains the one
Destination to which I am headed to after my death
Even if my dream date will be giving me a side
In this frivolous world!
I hope my dream date does not remain a mere whim,
A fantasy, a figment of the imagination,
But it is said that every shoe must be paired
With another,
So I try to enjoy hopping meanwhile
While waiting for my pair to be able to start walking!
The urge is overwhelming –
to see my battered skin break open.
To feel, believe, that I’m alive –
might thaw my soul, so frozen.
I’m cold, I’m numb, am I even real? –
or a figment of someone’s mind?
(For) no matter how much blood I spill –
(there’s no) feeling left that I can find.
I’m lost within a realm of souls –
where all but mine can matter.
I hate this suit of flesh I’m in –
it’s torn, beaten, and battered.
I’m branded as the “useful one” –
but all the same, disposable.
This hate could fill a sea —
(until it’s) shores should burst and overflow.
My loathing, not for others –
although they care not of their sins.
But if I must be honest –
I hate this soul which lies within.
I never understood –
why I was treated as an outcast.
I guess I’m just too sick –
perhaps it’s why my friends don’t last.
riding on a cloud of evil
surfing the whirlwinds of disaster
i think you ought to know
I'm running on E
come and bury me
lily pads
fingertips
peace at last
we children
of deceitful past
we greet the hours
as our last
hidden behind
a fabricated past
i was five
on a sleeping pad
riding on a cloud of evil
surfing the whirlwinds of disaster
i think you ought to know
i'm running on E
come and bury me
math was a problem
i rarely laughed
when to be sincere
meant to become entrapped
we were once as you
a figment of truth
awaiting filth
guilt came equally
as the fever was intangible
"smoke will rise
intentions will fall
the pains intense
but for all that you have done to me
i feel i must repay you
if i can not have peace
no one will"
th3blackhitler.com
In the smiting chill of a dreadful wintry night
When through every fiber n’ nerve, was the cold bite,
I was sitting cocooned beside my hearth,
Sipping a cup of steaming tea of my choicest blend.
Suddenly my attention was caught by something moving,
Through my window I saw a shadowy figure.
But who would dare to be out on such a night?
It was a night when winter slumber suddenly had grown,
Into a blizzard with blinding snow and hail flooding
When the land lay blanketed under snow’s strangulating clutch
When leafless trees stood motionless like spectral shadows
When animals stayed in their boroughs or dens in hibernation
But what I thought I had seen earlier
Was not a whim or a figment of my imagination.
I clearly saw someone walking, moving slowly or stealthily.
It disturbed me and I wanted to know who he was.
Unlikely to be a robber or a rogue with some sinister intent.
Could be a man who lost his way and needed urgent help.
Impelled by an irresistible urge to find out who he was,
I plunged myself into the sea of snow holding on to faith.
Faint moon light was shimmering between dancing snowflakes.
Not quite sure if I would find an enemy or a friend,
I walked on, pledging I would face what might come.
As I moved closer to that tottering figure
I realized he was someone half frozen in snow,
Desperately trying to get back home,
And I was on a divine mission to be the hands of God,
To direct a waylaid traveler back home,
And save a helpless soul from being frozen to death.
I don’t know what happened to that man beyond that night,
But am sure, he has survived many more winters,
And would be thankful to God for the providential help,
That saved his drowning life on such a fateful wintry night.
Now when I think of it, I feel even a bleak winter day,
Can be made bright by the power of kindness that we show.
It is the concern and preparedness to help someone in trouble,
That ignites our hearts with a divine spark and helps us connect.
Dragons, Monsters, Daemons, Ghosts.
OH ! to be the slayer of your world, of Dragons,
to be allowed, to be able to extinguish the fires,
the fires that light the way for the Monsters, the Daemons,
the Ghosts that haunt, who’s claws hold back all that could be.
Could this ethereal world I envision, be an illusion?,
A figment of my imagination?, a perception blinded by,
unfulfillment of a dream, a desire, a need for more?
Do these apparitions?, these mythical images?, legendary
phantoms of the mind come on wings of doubt?
Walking on clouds seems to be what I do.
Rays of Sunshine dissipate, melt away my path.
I am left floating on the winds of uncertainty.
Carried away on the wings of fear?, indifference?
B. J. “A” 2
November 13th 2006
Convinced I am
I'll never be me again
The one who created the pain
The one who had so much to gain
But lost out in the end
To a race against time
A figment of me
Just a pigment of hope
Lie down at night
No sleep to make up
I wander about
Through today's events
I worry about tomorrows as well
There is no real balance
When I am always off center
My mind never shuts down
I Whisper I can't do this anymore
Can't continue to live in a past unforgiven
I am stuck here in the void
Can't trust myself to let my guard down
Feel only alone is how I will live out this life
Scroll through the pictures on facebook dating
All so many choices but none ever get back
Am I just a lost cause
Confined to all I fear
It's a stain that won't wash out
Am I really that unlovable
Is the cover just to torn to turn the page
So much unsuriness so little dedication
To branch out away from past thoughts
It's alarming and endangering
Have I become that lost soul
Only time knows
All the secrets I hide.