Long Florescence Poems

Long Florescence Poems. Below are the most popular long Florescence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Florescence poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member fragrant florescence

 you say you
              love the moon
but it’s the stars
              you gaze at,
as you stretch 
    your petal-like fingers
to flaunt magical phrases
  across nocturnal nights~ 
stealing their 
  fragrant florescence
within forsaken 
       liquified lights,
to make them an 
  unseen reality
worth reading, 
as your charming words 
 woven with 
    wisteria wishes
protect them
       from invisible ink, 
that has been
burning empty pages 
from fiery flames,
oblivious to the
tangerine truth
 not every twinkling gem 
can grant your wishes 
  to flicker caramel gold…

perhaps, you should
see the sacred 
     scriptures in silver 
within lunar spheres,
how she carries 
  perfumed pain,
whilst remaining faithfully
   as a fairy goddess; 
beacon of hyacinth hope 
  when you were 
in your 
  island of ignorance, 
speaking the
 lyrical language
of dimmed dreams in 
  sentimental silence

 so don’t question her 
wounded skin reflecting
confined absence~
 nor blame the 
    sizzling sapphires
with her name sewn,
in vibrant violet
within the crystalline 
cage beneath 
   crooning seas

she was never guilty 
    of lethal love
nor were her
  emerald emotions
manipulative games
designed for 
   ephemeral pleasures~
she, was in 
need of a 
   sublime rhyme
that can set her 
 healing heart ablaze,
reignite reasons to relive
promises made amidst 
    inevitable distance

but if pain prompted 
   a voice
you’ll feel her 
   bleeding soul
and her aching sight; 
she’s seen so much
of what the dying
leaves and 
   falling season
could do, 
yet, the wind 
   never revealed
secrets of the 
   sunflower crescent,
for her tale was never
meant to be 
   told to the weak~ 
trees with torn twigs,
    too afraid to translate
heartbroken hymns
and eager to place 
 lambent labels
on wilted weeds 
  and faded flowers,
unaware of the raven runes
flowing in fickle flares
within their 
  stone cold skin.


Adonta Ta Mele

Running cracks of lead flaked paint, spiders across the front door like a grandfather's
forehead. 
Its hinges squeal from years of inattention and forgotten maintenance
Floor boards moan a song of dismemberment and forgotten age
While musty gloom thickens the air –  inhibiting, restricting, compressing breaths
 
Entrance ways lead to hallways which culminate and connect enclosed spaces,
hovering in an atmosphere of haunt and mourn

Conversations linger, echoing within walls of dine and feast
settings arranged from ritual – 
two plates,
two bowls,
two cups,
two knives,
two spoons, 
two forks,
two napkins,
two chairs,
with only voice and ephemeral trace. 

Twisted unleveled stairs, escalate to second stories 
letters to love and hate cover ancient mourning boards.

Segmented space divides the infant from maturation.

Cracked spine, chipped rails, exposing the wooden crib core
Superficial angst and rage characterizing the infant's facade,
yet delicate love exposed in clean white linens pressed and laid in perfection
sets the bedding stage for stuffed bears and embroidered blankies 

Toppled bookcase defecates bound knowledge across adult wooden bed frame
disheveling sheets, rugs, and right angles,
its half fallen posture exposes entrance way to hidden passages.

Between walls, moving slow as not to catch thread to exposed nail, pipe, or wire
shoulders grazing support beams, pace entranced by flattening florescence bulbed ceilings
Each step enclosing space tighter and tighter

Climax turns to anticlimax as exit opens to 
a hermetic cell of textural paint echoing skin blotched and boiled.
Surrounding walls of tattered gold, ulcer red and puss filled purple, 
each based with blotched skin.?Encircles full length mirror exposing views of deceased
discomfort – 
Black glass glows within frame of ornate wood
spiking and curling with baroque transcendence
Reflecting back a ghost of future deceased persona.
© Ian Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ekphrasis

Remembering Her In Eternal Happiness

Each day and night I cry,.....
Seeing her as if directly before my eyes so happy and beautiful with the beaming
florescence of sun blinding my sight.

Constant flashbacks in my mind of all the good one person could bring into 
one's life, without a doubt to make them feel so loved at times of pain and 
wonder hidden in I.

To a woman so dedicated to learning only the teachings of the All Mighty God,to 
speak into others ears to believe that HE is always there to rely on and the most 
powerful man there ever will be that can solve any problem.

The pictures and words froze in my mind hurts deeply to understand that God 
has taken her from Hell on earth to a wonderful place of serenity to heal and 
rejuvenate her soul for a new life in a place way more gracefully innocent that the 
planet earth.

Way above the clouds and higher that no eye can see, But into the soundless 
galaxy of peacefulness to one's self mind to finally be free.

Hoping in mind she will never forget seeing the never ending tears of grievance 
for only her a time that is desperately needed.

Looking up off in space with overflowing tears, questioning Him why?......

Visions of me seeing her as an angel of God, to express how much i do care 
(That  was never reflected) , and the needs of her in my life and how it's killing me 
slowly inside.

But then is smothered with words of God saying "She is happy now and not to 
worry.... She will always remember you as you do of her and could see the pain 
straight through my eyes.

" I Wll always breakdown and cry with sadness and guilt in my heart, but is 
stopped with her presence of joy."

"Dedicated to my aunt Kelly ,Rest in peace"

Premium Member My God, Thank You For Commanding Me To Be Strong

February 13 Scripture Meditations Based on Joshua 1-5

Key Verse – Joshua 1:9 Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.

MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR COMMANDING ME TO BE STRONG
 
Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your might 
In treading upon Your promised land of truth and right
As I observe Your law and meditate therein day and night
For me to be prosperous in Your sight.
	
Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your presence 
In remembering Your Word with Your principles’ iridescence 
As I enjoy Your favour while worshipping You with spiritual florescence
For me to be devoted to Your heart by Your fellowship’s license.

Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your kindness 
In dealing well and truly with Your ministry midst anxiousness
As I stay in Your will that welcomes me into Your goodness
For me to be blissful in Your graciousness.

Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your covenant 
In choosing Your way against being skeptically indignant
As I observe Your voice so tenderly dominant
For me to be faithful and not faith-stagnant.

Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your sovereignty 
In walking along Your holiness-fenced security
As I follow Your steps of divine authority
For me to be effective in working by Your majesty.

Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your instruction 
In pursuing toward Your name’s glorification
As I esteem Your Deity against idolatry’s temptation
For me to be pleasing by Your righteousness’ beautification.

February 13, 2022
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Pardon My Lame Humor

Dear 2024,

I hope this poetic vow 
wouldn’t be shunned,
as I block negativity 
from my phone, 
like my bitter exes.

And forgive my sense
of humor that 
resembles sour grapes, 
like a dash of salt 
and pepper sprinkled 
on top of old drapes. 
Perhaps, as this 
year bids adieu,
I’ll find the right 
ingredient to concoct 
sparkling wine infused 
with giggles that 
age like 
    chucklesome limericks,
as I fine-tune the 
empty spaces 
  of my scribbled 
pages with hilarity. 
I’ll learn to laugh a 
little louder and hope 
the ebb of every 
    comical tale can flow. 
Maybe a stricter 
chocolate diet would 
help me see the 
sweeter side of 
powdered comedians, 
sharpening my wit 
as endorphins enhance
 my ability to spot 
the depth of puns 
punctuated 
  with bizarre tones. 

And as December rain 
drizzles in symphony
of the darkness 
my quill flaunts, 
pardon these 
  peculiar metaphors, 
I’ll raise a glass
   of crocodile tears, 
a toast for 
  more concise poetry,
and faces I’ve phased,
that I’ll no longer 
  vent about in vain verses.

Cheers to the 
festival lights 
on wheel of laughter, 
may the florescence 
forever flicker as 
souvenirs of amusement.

I’ll dance into the 
rising sun of a new year,
in an odyssey adorned
with shimmering dreams
embalmed in
    tickling mint leaves.


Oscine Affinities For Summer Summit

Up for grabs are looming sapidities of a summer summit.
Prompt as forecasting device, keen as cropland mice, 
trying to surpass oscine elves turns out no dice. 
Wondering how these yummy yodelers telepathize herself earliest, 
the estival essence, no longer bashful or elusive, 
effuses evocative elations and erupts into exuberant exclamations,
her envious gaze firmly gluing their stilted beaks. 
Vivacious and hectic are vibes thereon, laden with various affinities.


Voila! The moment the affinity for florescence finds their beaks,
their beaks, aromatically aroused, flit to flick fine flowers.
Fine flowers, nodding neat, smile back smooth serenity to these buds buddies.

The moment the affinity for verdure finds their beaks, 
their beaks, lustily enlightened, flirt their way to green leaves.
Green leaves, wagging wide, fan back brisk boon to these foliage fiddlers. 

The moment the affinity for delicacies finds their beaks, 
their beaks, artfully inspired, touch up and tidy up herby tufts.
Herby tufts, shaping smart, whiff back intimate whispers to these concinnity creators.

The moment the affinity for musicality finds their beaks, 
their beaks, melodiously endowed, warble out crisp notes.
Crisp notes, frolicking free alongside these cheer chirpers, 
awaken congeniality in recesses and accelerate prosperity of panorama.

Free Cee a Considerable Conquest

A CONSIDERABLE CONQUEST

So this is when love becomes a contest
each a victim and seeking after their conquest
it was so easy back then, no name calling
no detours, children crossing or rocks falling

it was as if for years we both needed the other
each of us with bad attitudes and memories to smother
it was that spark, lightening, or neon florescence from above
and before there was war there was love

each counting the days, the numerals and years
at a social gathering neither of us could say “cheers”
it was if there was a gentle breath we were chasing after
an easy breath to fill our lungs and fill a room with laughter

but it seems six bottles of expensive perfume wasn't the solution
and dozens of flowers gave neither of us absolution
as it turned out the roses were made out of glass
alas one day they were smashed precisely like our love and what has come to pass

so you write me parenthetical notes with a secret inside
and with me being chased by the big bad wolf and no where to hide
your fangs come out when you think you're not winning
and whenever you believe i'm a sinner simply sinning

so this is what the ends turns out to be
I blame you and you'll blame me
your touch was once so comforting and tender
and as for the contest and the conquest you win because I surrender
        © 2012......copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
Form: Quatrain

Summer Season On a Time Clock

Every dawn I yawn quiet, florescence I inhibit softly
A clear image I peep, nature settles calmly
Her intentions are infectious like a blossomed flower
Reminds me of a family member who meet God at the calling hours
Kindred spirit fully defined the character she was
I inherited the genetics, only reason I still search for love

But moments I'm impatient because there is not much time
Predicting a future analysis, for a young guy it's surprising
Maybe it's my fatal dreams that scream to me
I hope I at least find a woman I adore passionately
When I'm shook with hesitation, I feel the wind grabbing me
Pulling me with motivation to hopefully find my destiny

Dear Heavenly Father, I give you my props
Even though I walked without confidence and stumbled a lot
I will forever praise you as you raised me
Continue striving and even after my heartbeat suddenly stops
Showing my appreciation because you're the only one who truly cared for me
You did make me suffer, but for a good cause
To make me stronger and improve my many flaws
Failed connections I made because I misunderstood how I came across

The surface we stand on is never expected to be perfect
Please heal those who once made me feel worthless

I rest in your closed arms, a home I truly belong
My illness happened for a reason, you were the answer all along

My Son

Enticing skies course to dim as summer’s florescence gives way to winters tint.
Eyes dry up as rain takes its course and somehow my heart still travels its current remorse.
My naked arms betray my might; there empty space remains reaching for you.
The weeping dust as thick as fur as nothing shifts, just consumes the flying moths about your room.
My solitude pushes my strength to the ground until in my head your voice resounds.
Dreams come like visions as I wake, too loud like the television you bleared so loud. 
A crisp can be heard dropping on carpet that makes no crunch, yet in the swamp of silence small sounds become tall.

Pictures remain splattering the walls but fingerprints fade, as I will to you.
Through memories, I’ll be a face, an un-known the future will replace.
My gentle song and silent whispers will be the joy of another who answers you wishes.
As days turn to years and fly so fast, my son to me they will be like minutes that drag on and on.

My precious boy who held such short time in my sight, will last an eternity in my memories and I shall still hug you in my sleep and I shall still sing there and when I wake you will again be a shadow of loss from my past.

But in heart, I can keep you.
In soul, I can still hold you.
And forever I can love you,
                 My Son.

Mind-Boggling Disarray

There's madness in enlightenment,
preferring darkly recesses of denial
    whilst moon descends sensibilities,
shedding white powder florescence
fracturing every crack & crevice,
most days long to dwell
in oblivion, remembers it fondly,
before unicorns and monsters
became real and materialized
   taunting duskiest memories

always knew in her bones
  that something was askew,
fear and breathlessness
  a huge part of her psyche,
on the surface she seemed
  to have it together but,
    her marrow was aware,
as dysfunctional trembled - -
 nagging blitzed neurons,
  felt its prevailing intrusiveness
a foreboding presence beckoning
in blindingly echoed vocalizations,
 long before time even existed

She lives in continuous disorder,
  tucked away within her own reflection
   chaos extruding every wakeful moment,
powerless to cease mind-boggling adaptations
© Paloma P   Create an image from this poem.

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