Long Flamboyantly Poems
Long Flamboyantly Poems. Below are the most popular long Flamboyantly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flamboyantly poems by poem length and keyword.
I Adamantly Refuse to Care or Show Concern,
After All
I Served Sincerely and Genuinely, Now I Sever
Hoaxed Mundane Emotions that No Longer Appeal to My Growth
Flippantly Burning Icy Bridges
This is More or Less What You Think
Even More that Spilled Ink!
Pages Stained With Expressions of Clustered Ink Lichens
For I am Sole Custodian of My Emotions
Strolling Flamboyantly Through the Emporium of Memories
Some Insipid, Some Cherished, All Purged for Space
For This is More or Less What You Think
Even More Than Ink!
I Castigate in Order to Reciprocate by means of Detachment
Sharply Dismembering Familial Ties
For I Rather Drown in Water than Blood
My Behavior And Actions May or May not Appear Imprimatur
Shunned Mundane Conformities, Autonomous One
More or Less what You Think
Expressing Choreographed Ink!
Most are Unable or Unwilling to Embrace Their Shadow
A Glimpse In the Mirror Shrouds The True Reflection
My Response is Isolation
Because My Energy is Mines to do As I Please
Such are Normal or Reactive to Both Inner and Outer Influences
I Shall not Partake In Friendly Bantering Where Venomous Strife Once Proceeded!
My Silence is A Science Blaring In Ink
More or Less!
Reigning vitality you buoy on vigor of freedom
Hugging distant continents, caressing lively shores
Eternal since birth of time, ceaseless evermore,
Sensational, immense, omnipotent, abundant,
Enthusiastically you uplift glorious dawning sun
Greeting flamboyantly resplendent arc of horizon
Sprinkling golden glitter, propagating in unison,
Stoking aesthetic illusion into waves of passions,
Traversing civilizations from Atlantic to Pacific,
Rumbling leisurely, visiting tranquil beaches,
Hosting aquatics, exploring beauteous coral reefs,
Impulsive as can be, you are fierce, yet poetic,
Ferocious battlefield for the Navy, submarines,
Yet, fairyland luxurious, rocking passenger ships,
Sundown you reflect in aspirations romantic
Floating deep in womb, quixotic moon’s mystique;
Tides of your moods~ ebb and flow of emotions,
Boundlessly undulate, vainglorious true notion~
No force on earth can dare restrict your motion
For, you’re the magnificent, almighty blue oceans.
August 22, 2021
Placed 1st: Writing Prompt, Oceans, or Seas Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
It’s all magic to Joe
and music to me, too.
An owl’s quiet hoot
even simpler than the pentatonic bamboo flute.
* * *
Belonging to the drums and wooful war
I woof and bay like every other dog.
Ukes v. Orcs, a hockey brawl
the pros vault the stands and redd the fans.
* * *
It’s only a papier-mache moon. Or is it?
Hey ho the wind and rain wear us away and it’s ok.
The outline disappears and the meaning.
This could be a pert sweet thing.
* * *
Rain in my courtyard. Rusty trucks stuck in mud.
To bring order from chaos, just say yes.
Or do the day’s disputes leave you indisposed
to share your heart of zero and your inner rose?
* * *
The tragic mind knows nuclear inferno is a probability.
Every leaf that’s coming out is out, come what may.
That’s joy. As time grows short, I get stoic.
There’s work to do but does it matter if I do it?
* * *
Start each day in despair, work up to acceptance.
That there’s no there there requires resistance.
Give generously, gratuitously, flamboyantly
like good luck, but stop before it hurts.
* * *
Apocalyptic visions are popular again
but Earth will merely take a mulligan.
Beyond mountains more mountains,
peepers peeping.
If I were you
I would take life more seriously
If I were you
I would invest more, spend less
If I were you
I would repent of my sins
If I were you
I would get a job
If I were you
I would get married soon
If I were you
I would have better friends
If I were you
I would quit smoking and alcohol
If I were you
I'd stop living flamboyantly
If I were you
I would worry less
If I were you
I'd eat more fruits, less meat
If I were you
I'd accept Jesus as my Lord and Saviour
If I were you
I'd dressed and speak properly
If I were you... If, if, if...
Well...
You are NOT me
You are you, I am unique!
The Bull and the Matador
Stalwartly, the bull gaits around
the confines of the arena ring,
snorting and displaying
piercing horns and muscle-bulk build.
For this he was bred and raised;
to be a champion of beasts,
and no matter where placed,
will claim as his domain and ferociously
defend until death, if necessary.
Then into the ring swaggeringly treads the matador
(flamboyantly dressed, touting a cape),
saluting the crowd, though calmly noticing
the bull, whose eyes appear red
from the blood gorging in its head.
“Estás loco!” scream the patrons packing the place
(thoroughly enjoying every minute of this barbaric sport).
“¡Ole! ¡Ole!” They sing in unison in a horrific overture,
encouraging the matador to kill the bull or vice versa.
***
Horatio Hornblower adored her,
from the first time he saw her.
her hair all amiss.
tatterdemalion jeans
kissed her, before his lips touched hers.
the nose ring would adorn her
before his diamond would cruise
aboard Cara Caraneena’s finger.
She loved the gray in his beard,
so like a poetic captain of yesteryear,
and the twang of his Southern tongue,
like a silver bell. His face like an etch-a-sketch
she never wanted to erase one year,
for his character drew her in, unlike
the young boys who tweeted and texted
acronyms, no finesse. And those hands,
master of the art of writing love poems.
She wrote to him:
O gray, trapped in a cage,
but for the tamer,
jump through the hoop,
meet me at the lover’s table.
He wrote back:
How lovely the lines,
your fingers slender,
touch mine, with
yours forever.
Together they wrote. Forever
they could not apprehend,
but two pairs of eyes
glistened through time.
Cloistered in their palace,
the old-fashioned carnation
and the wild daisy portrayed
flamboyantly upon a timeless canvas.
The murmurers and whisperers, reside
outside the pearly gates,
with puckered lips
just kids and old goats,
painted
with bitter-green faces.
Haiku Translations II
Illuminated by the harvest moon
smoke is caught creeping
across the water...
Hattori Ransetsu, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Fanning its tail flamboyantly
with every excuse of a breeze,
the peacock!
Masaoki Shiki, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Waves row through the mists
of the endless sea.
Masaoki Shiki, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I hurl a firefly into the darkness
and sense the enormity of night.
—Kyoshi Takahama, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
As girls gather rice sprouts
reflections of the rain ripple
on the backs of their hats.
—Kyoshi Takahama, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Unaware it protects
the hilltop paddies,
the scarecrow seems useless to itself.
—Eihei Dogen Kigen, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Ebb-tide:
everything we stoop to collect
slips through our fingers ...
—Chiyo-ni, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Fading memories
of summer holidays:
the closet’s last floral skirt...
—Michael R. Burch
Scandalous tides,
removing bikinis!
—Michael R. Burch
Haughty moon,
when did I ever trouble you,
insomnia’s co-conspirator!
—Michael R. Burch
Ascendance Transcendence
by Michael R. Burch
Breaching the summit
I reach
the horizon’s last rays.
Moore or Less
by Michael R. Burch
for Richard Moore
Less is more —
in a dress, I suppose,
and in intimate clothes
like crotchless hose.
But now Moore is less
due to death’s subtraction
and I must confess:
I hate such redaction!
no foothold
by michael r. burch
there is no hope;
therefore i became invulnerable to love.
now even god cannot move me:
nothing to push or shove,
no foothold.
so let me live out my remaining days in clarity,
mine being the only nativity,
my death the final crucifixion
and apocalypse,
as far as the i can see ...
The Red State Reaction
by Michael R. Burch
Where the hell are they hidin’
Sleepy Joe Biden?
And how the hell can the bleep
Do so much, in his SLEEP?
Red State Reject
by Michael R. Burch
I once was a pessimist
but now I’m more optimistic
ever since I discovered my fears
were unsupported by any statistic.
Keywords/Tags: haiku, nature, moon, water, sea, night, rain, dark, memories, tides, insomnia
Involved with illumination in my imagination
Feeling the urge of sudden frustration and agitation
My spirit, with wit, is legit and yes, I admit
I’m a believer and a giver
But, I’m not your chopped liver
So, don’t butcher me into your oven of diseaseful danger
I’m unlimited with opportunities, so please don’t reduce me to anger
I’m drowning in doubtless hopes
I am coping, hoping I won’t hear your mopes
Loving you isn’t all that easy to the core
I’ll put my input into being free once more
I’m a fighter, levitating with a lighter in hand
Understand I am not going to land in your land
I will evolve eventually
And elegantly, you will rise robustly
Somehow, I’m living in the now
The silence of my past took a bow
Promising you peace in all aspects of life
Giving up and for the thousandth time, I will find my wife eventually as long as I don’t cut myself with life’s jagged knife
We have each other’s backs
I just got to sit back and relax
I am languishing in the literally bewildered mind of mine
Don’t worry about me, how are you? Are you doing fine?
Hold on to me and don’t let me collapse with cold hands
I am the twinge of pain of a flick of rubber bands…
Discard desires from the wicked
I want this loneliness and dread
To leave me the hell alone
Because, God is on my side
My rivers are running so wide
And narrow like trekking the pathway
From night to day, from night to day
I’ll be okay, as long as you are, darling
I want you to take wing with them and see what happiness will bring
I’m calm and getting ready to rest a little more than usual
Don’t mistaken me a nonsensical, dense fool because I’m not fooled, that’s bull
I am digging a grave to ingratitude and hatred
I am resurfacing reminisces, radiating in my head
Evolve with me for an eternity and beyond
I am a fish, flamboyantly flipping my fins in this peculiar pond
This one goes out to a special poetry souper.
Dedicated to an unknown rhythmic ink trooper.
Her poetic pen is mightier than any sword,
she cares not for attention nor craves to be adored.
Not a daily poster, but like petals her words grow,
releasing deep thoughts like tranquil rivers flow.
Pouring out pain, portraying a life full of commotion,
she's never afraid to reveal deep repressed emotion.
Nonchantly, composing sonnets, prose and monorhymes.
A 'free verse' soul with a pure gift, ahead of the times.
Sometimes her humour can lead to hysterics.
Other times her words sing like melodic song lyrics.
From undefined uncertainties to unseen and unheard,
they're relatable verses, reflected through sentiments stirred.
Elegant as a redolent rose with that Midas touch.
Her art is like a masterpiece that needs no retouch.
Needs not hide behind metaphors to create her poetry.
Hails from an island of sapphire skies and turquoise sea.
I know her journey has faced a mountain of adversity
and living among devious souls has caused controversy.
Despite the darkness, she glows like a lantern at night.
In times of trouble, always finds the willpower to write.
When torment arrives, stabbing my heart with spears,
she's always there to ensure my mind's not full of fears.
A honest heart with the modest grace of a pacifier.
Has formed a legacy of an unassuming versifier.
Like a peacock spreading beauty - flamboyantly.
For me, the Aura of Rhymes is poetic royalty.
Gilded days, before the sudden rain,
Hot, green fields of sweet sugarcane,
Tree melodies that naught can contain,
A meadow of the moonlit firefly reign!
Oppressive heat in languid, summer rooms,
And outside the windows, breezy blooms;
Myriad azure days of their dreamy perfume,
Make for the fragrant nights-an heirloom!
Bush and tree stand in an idle beauty,
Now greenly sheltering the bees' honey.
Cheeky rabbit eats up the garden bounty,
And black, gleaming crows caw cacaphony!
Lush lilypad upholds a deeply jade frog,
Queen ladybug sits upon her velvet log,
Scarlet birds in much ardent dialogue,
And cicadas scat their noisy epilogue!
They've been most flamboyantly ablaze,
These strange, fervent nights and days;
Guess it's all part of lush summer craze-
By chance to sniff those wildest bouquets!