Long Filigreed Poems
Long Filigreed Poems. Below are the most popular long Filigreed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Filigreed poems by poem length and keyword.
You were born to be a filigreed crown
to soar like the swift never touch ground
but they gave you labels suiting their thought
words sharpened like knives in which you were caught
Spoken words in unisons cacophony
untouchable not decent not fit for family
oh the old wounds and their residual pain
I just want to see you soaring again
The others hated you without any word
their actions spoke louder than expressions heard
unworthy to speak to or even be seen
to be hidden from others aspersions as mean
How on earth could you possibly shine
when you felt their ridicule locked forever in time
I watched you dry up before my own eyes
in the heat of the ire the flame of despised
Like an animal branded wearing its mark
cast out like our Lord flung from the park
on rocks were you broken too limp to hold
to crawl and to cower where reception is cold
The unthinking know not the powers of word
wrestle not with ideas conceptions they've learned
who never consider that our mouths are the flame
that torture the sensitive stab them with pain
How long does it take for a heart to die
too scarred to ask questions or the wondering why
a planet of suffering the agony of breath
like those barely living and too slow is death
Where you can hold stars and dance in the day
to sing of life's joy partake in its sway
be moved by its chords like crescendo of song
to be not cast down like everything's wrong
The scar like a keloid to thick to peel
weather beaten hard shielded like steel
Walls like a fortress the place you reside
away from misfortune the dark place you hide
Listen my Love my words are for you
I know where you shine I've seen them accrue
If I thoughtless hurt you please let me know
I'm only a student molded like dough
Break out beloved create something new
polish your character bid cruelty adieu
set your sights high seek always insight
let love be your leader in words that delight
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
Via Duboff Law Group LLC
October Kiss
Mother Nature’s Art Gallery Exhibit
Blue October skies, fall and autumn days
Gaze and jump into the maze of crescendo colours
Flickering in a blaze show of filigreed leaves,
Mother Nature’s art gallery exhibit
Blends of orange, green, and red watercolor tapestries
of bedding plants, emerald green grass
Nature’s light guarded secret as we watch in wonder
Of cool nights, rainy, and sunny filled days
As whispering breeze kiss raises a gentle flight
Bringing shedding leaves down onto the ground cover
10/1/2016
A shadow of the self
but a sliver of me
you know the inner self
and the turmoil that can be
Perhaps I have shown
you more of my self
then I should, or was wise
But for once I could not cover with half truths
and never do I speak lies
Perhaps its the outer me
I should have shared all along
The person with all the strengths
and no cracks to be shown
And yet the seams are there
the careful repair of my life
The jagged edges filigreed
embellished against the strife
The stress fractures of my soul
gave to your gentle hand
And it frightened you
to meet the depth
and the truth of what I am
So I will seal up the cracks
put back up the structure, hide inner
me from view
And extend the hand of friendship
start over
and clean up my "act" for you
You say I make you dopey,
well I am goofy in response
All I know is I care
and not just for a romance.
Trying to connect (C) 1986 Susan Manley
1.
Murders in congress
grimly ponder on parapet walls
on the grim reality of lost homes
and loved ones yet unborn -
their casual caws more muted
than the usual cacophony
of careless camaraderie.
2.
The still dark night
of scintilla-ed canopy
and eerie filigreed fingers
of flora bereft of foliage once lush
limned against the pallor of
moonlight mocking at men
reduced and humbled now
from their hubris then.
3.
Candlelight dinners
bereft of the trappings and finesse,
a gourmet's grumps bring together
rediscovered ties
of familial bonds under the thickened web
of electronic sludge and slime
now briefly removed.
4.
The sweet lullaby of a
distant mercenary generator
puts me to sleep
in the comfort of knowing
that i am not alone.
Troglodytes in surreal settings.
I went for a walk through the woods, like I do each Fall;
for it's a sensual treat at this time of year.
And I came across a grove of ancient oak trees,
shedding amber, yellow, and golden leaves;
gilding the ground, like scattered nuggets of gold.
The air smelt of Autumn, an earthy-sweet musk;
cool, crisp, and invigorating.
A chattering chipmunk scolded me incessantly:
as I neared a knurled stump, it was guarding;
loudly chastising me for invading its space.
The ground crunched and crackled under my feet,
as I walked on a bedding of filigreed leaves;
resembling a golden fleece.
As brisk breezes rippled through swaying treetops:
their bare branches rattled like skeleton bones.
Indulging my inner child, I fashioned an Autumn Angel;
spreading and swiping my arms and legs,
I sculpted an Angel out of leaves instead of snow.
And I lay there awhile smiling, soaking in Nature's magnificence;
immersed in the grandeur and beauty of Fall.
When fairy tales were in fashion, before true love was rare,
A prince wooed a maid who was flaxen and fair.
He came every day and patiently knelt
Before the dark tower wherein his love dwelt.
He'd call out, "Rapunzel, oh, show me you care,
And let down a ladder of your golden hair."
This scene re-enacted for forty long years,
His plaintive pleas ever falling upon unheeding ears.
But one winter's day, very bitter and cold,
The prince puzzled to fathom what his eyes did behold.
Overnight, it appeared, her hair came unbound
And the tresses lay scattered all over the ground.
As he gazed at those sad locks, his poor heart was torn,
Was his loved one now bald, her long hair shortly shorn?
Then the prince felt a chill shoot right down to his boots,
He perceived that the gold was quite black at the roots.
Suddenly down came a note in a filigreed cup,
"I can't hear the doorbell, so just come on up."
"Are you freaking kidding me?" he cried, quite beside himself.
"My perfect Rapunzel is bald-headed…and deaf?"
Much chagrined, he charged in, but the higher he climbed,
His ire waned at the prospect of the treasure he'd find.
He opined she'd be virtuous, angelic, demure,
But then he stopped dead in his tracks at the door.
The crone he encountered at the top of the stair
Was morbidly fat, and far, far from fair.
The prince blanched at the warts and stiff hairs on her chin,
As she lewdly, and nudely, gestured him in.
She lay draped on a bed wearing only a smile,
But a true prince is immune to lascivious wiles.
While most heroes in such tales are stalwart and stout,
This one raced to the casement and flung himself out.
As he plunged to his doom from that horrible room,
And ever nearer beneath him he watched the earth loom,
The prince yelled as he fell, shook his fist, and he cursed,
"Why the heck didn't I vet her on Angie's List first?"
Lost like unused syllables in unrhyming words
petals of frilled sorrow drip to the earth from weeping trees,
crying each filigreed petal slowly, one by one,
in cascades of gentle tears to their tender rest,
shaping billowing beds of brightly colored pillows,
until soft breaths of evening breeze exhale long sighs
through longing limbs creating whirlwinds of smiling fragrance
in the fawning dance of each nectarous petal.
Like lover's swirling in life's last dying embrace,
reflections of cold loneliness slip past with each fallen bud.
Soon the flowers will be lost in winter's stark gray advance,
and the smooth bark of the Crepe Myrtle will lie dormant
yearning for the elongating warm caress of Spring,
and its delicate chiffon cloak of humbled innocence,
again hiding its discomfiting gnarled nakedness
behind silken vales of scintillating incandescence.
11/07/15
Listlessly ever fixing form
to the macabre,
a mosaic of shadows
laid turquoise wings
into supreme blackness
as a charm,
from the intersession of light
I bore misery as my shield
I was silhouettes
in masquerade,
a mannequin of ash
ever shifted to wake
between one
trans-morphing
entranced in movement
my disguise failed
a Mueddin beckoning
from the minaret
you,
called me to prayer
without doubt
the weight
of a darken hand
lifts,
I chant
in endless mercy
my grainy
empire crumbles
as misery’s shield
dismantles
to dust
I stepped free
as darkened
fingers of night
still,
ever plucked
at dark fibers in spirit
smoothing your finger
around the rim,
erased all shade
in its retreat
I am now,
the chalice
forged with hands
that filigreed with faith
alas now,
Avalon calls me home
a bar door is ajar, only fading voices
echo into the void, from nowhere...and afar!
Here n there, trash drifts
ghosts in flickering neon.
Broken, floating, bloated
dead down eons halls
a last of white.
Crimson taillights roar along
an empty blacktop...
Ruins of ages-lost buildings hang together
like frozen corpses looking
into desolation‘s aftermath.
This boulevard is desolate n oblique
as enigmatic engines park n die
on this macadam late at night.
Carriages lurch, coughs, wheeze
electric spark, circuits churn
something burns.
...unmoored from the known.
Something in death throes
as hollow oblong boxes
glide shakily to a halt.
A vehicle, an unknown thing,
a machine of divine madness
silhouetted against the falling ash of sky.
The smell of burning rubber
a stench of ozone, the cry of the void.
Drift along a wind-swept boulevard
as streetlights wink on
while headlights die
in empty skull sockets, lie...
A white filigreed smoke drifts
as it stalls and hums
sputters and dies.
A drifting murmur of voices drift
whispers of lives lived out swift...
Eyes reflect and dance in the darkness
over a vacant steering wheel!
Light flickers briefly under the hood
deep deathly hums fade.
Only the tick of a cooling engine
echos into the frosty air.
As shadows puddle in endless despair
something stands at the end...
...of desolations boulevard!
Old sounding promises seemed sorta true,
unless it happened otherwise for you?
convenience sake or perhaps just is
planetary alignments making your “fizz”
complexity resurrects a new hopeful night
inviting you always to flick bic your light
emboldened by others who don’t really see
leaving you fearful to simply just be...
tagging you on to another track of time
creating yet another filigreed tale of rhyme
thinking of all things in a no thing kind of way
saying yes to life makes for fun along the quay
sun dance and moon dance promising more
opening your mind, opening your score
never forsaking the opportunity to
come into the light, come into the few
possibilities pool at the base of your soul
near death glory roundin’ a false flag pole
of desire not met, direction never held
push pull of reality, always a dread
magnanimous inquiry filed in countless minds
finalizing the truth, does it serve our kind?
slots of intentionality reign like fine dust
slipping and sliding, its so nearly lost
pilgrims on march, going some where soon
playing that game, never awakens afore noon
denial rests, plots thicken to stew... creating this
profound visions of you - at your best this
coming new year, hallelujah, heavens just waiting for you...