Long Fluctuating Poems
Long Fluctuating Poems. Below are the most popular long Fluctuating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fluctuating poems by poem length and keyword.
Love the calm in the glory of lions.
Oh, a flung continent that begs for reckons.
Volatile air, agitated flocks, and dusty fife.
Since humanity's birth, lifeblood has stirs.
The city is chaotic and bustling with life,
It disrupts the acumen, causing inner strife.
As I get closer and closer to the city bosom,
Between suitable and improper, it's rife.
Hooves on the plains drumming out a rhythm.
In the thickets of the jungle, where lions schism.
Along sacred rivers, there is nothing but space.
A nation that consumes without leaving a minim.
Mambas return to the web in quest of a large place.
To nurse at a dynamic and fluctuating pace.
My magnificent lifeblood, O priceless African green.
Excellent crocodile eyes and needle-shaped face.
Written: May 21, 2022
A Travel To The Millisecond
One day while reaching within the millisecond squared
With innocent intent to take me there to study
An unplanned trip, a travel, unfolded
I followed the paths of past and future all at once
While frozen in the present
To trace them at the moment they arrived
It seemed like time stood still to feel the moment
To keep them on the side of philosophy and science
While experimenting with the shape and size and pure design
I became trapped within this zone alone
Only to observe the past and present coalesce
Merging one into the other in fluctuating flow
At first the past turned grey and solid in the microsecond
It moved in and out of sight in colored fragments
A split took place about the second within the second they separated
Both seemed to swirl as one
The past pushed at futures back
Future had no choice but to move forward
Leaving past much like a ripple on a midnight lake
I followed them to trace the moment they arrived
At their finale destinations
I could not give them directions or advice
Being a visitor from a foreign land
It seemed like time stood still to feel the moment
To keep them on the side of philosophy and science
Experimenting with the shape and size and pure design
I became released along the way with future
Within the time zone so designated, so designed as minuscule
As their home, there is no speculation here
Future moved on with me with proper calculations and credentials
In proper company
The so-called experts have been saying lately
There's a slow down in global warming
It's true, it hasn't been very tropical lately
Global warming is under performing
Do you think it's possible it just could be
A normal fluctuation in the world's temps
But who am I to offer this assessment
Why they're fluctuating to this extent
Could it possibly be the experts have it wrong
Oh forgive me for suggesting such a thing
After years and years in “forecasting” school
With diplomas under their wing
Weather forecasting is a lot of guesswork
Next to impossible to predict the future
There's so many variables to affect the outcome
Even with all those fancy computers
Thought crystallizes. Its edges become sharp and hard.
Soon we begin to believe the illusion of its boundaries.
We forget it is a wave of energy, in flux, pulsating,
Reaching out to every glowing atom, moving faster than
The speed of light to create a new version of Reality.
Reality is in transition from moment to moment, never solid
But spinning like an old airplane prop, its edges disappear.
It becomes invisible and all our slow tracking eyes can see
Is the outline of its trail, fluctuating and vibrating in echoes of our fears.
We move from moment to moment tracking the deep grooved
Impressions of the same thought over and over, like waves pounding
Against the solid rock foundation of our fantasies and warped realities.
Oblivious to the magic and power of intention that shatters illusion in an instant,
We are trapped in the reality of our own making believing there is no way out.
We are all in transition from one reality to another,
Not one living the same life exactly or experiencing the same universe.
It is a hologram of confusion infused with snatches of Truth just out of reach.
The Matrix is the scaffolding upon which it weaves and grows.
The magic of transition is that we can,
at any given moment,
Through free will make a new decision,
starving the groove of its power
to contain our vast possibilities,
multiple streams of abundance and conjoined strings of realities.
Copyright Chula Schlesinger Fleming © 9.8.24
Nobody should be by himself,
feeling the weight of desperation;
such is the fate of mine
struggling to see
my shimmering star...
I try to deny it to myself,
but all I see:
is the reflection of me!
On those warm days of June,
when summer knocks with joy
on the heart's door,
to bring songs and dreams
to those starry-eyed lovers
lying by gliding streams;
I wait like them ,with that feeling of anxiety,
for my beautiful one,
who promised me to dance in the open sky:
her long,golden hair
covered by tiny,pink roses;
her delicate arms fluctuating like waves...
Alone in a place of isolation,
improvising my lamentation;
daffodils enamor me with their bright color,
even they have their friend sun
to whisper to in the high-noon...
as their words don't comply with my humor!
On those warm days of June,
blu-jays gladly attune
to my melodious tune,
to turn those moments into a medley
and keep this lover's heart from being lonely;
from somewhere her love-inbued eyes
will surprise me with an illusory glance!
Who wishes to be immersed in desolation,
imagining to be choked by closed walls...
when hope can lead one out of frustration?
It takes a strong will and a fantastic dream...
to bring to life what lies within!
Let me bring you to a world where love has no limit.
The feelings of devotion lie in between you and me,
You are Adan and I am Eve on the first day that we'd met
We are formed by the prowess of love and faith.
The unconditional LOVE...the greatest gift from God above.
But this love that we have is something veins fluctuating.
We found love in most special ways.
Not in amatory form of fantasies.
Hugs and kisses in the world of black and blue.
Caring for each other without bond and sort of hues.
But often misinterpreted by those minds are less and few.
We twirled the world like roller coaster.--
Meeting up of two souls in soiree place.
Eye to eye we've met and the story begun to clicked.
Friendship that'll remain forever,love that exists 'til the end.
No vow and ties that bind together,
Just two sacred hearts adjoined.
Two people stay together,no pain 'til we get old.
Love stuck in the middle,platonic and bold.
What?
against the reign of bullets?
paltry words...insignificant phrases...scant creative thought
still to try
to wring the meaning out of the blood stained cloth
to pick up each brass shell and casing
to listen and ask each one why
why the reign?
with intent to ponder...defend and defuse
against fall water of twisted metal anger
THE VOICE...this hard triumphant violence has given the unaccepted
A NEW CODE of Monstrous honor?
How to disarm the broken soul...the distortion of voice!
ballast the fluctuating scattered soul
build a defense against the insecurity
their being so different
...so angry
ANGER
against innocent Traitors ALL!
the beautiful...the gifted...the brilliant ...the successful
now the damned
Shiny Targets
on a shooting range wall
Empathy seems shallow water
fury fuels nothing
concentration breeds frustration
Lobby's laws ban ...banning
Shall we jail the gifted in prisons of metal
detectors and guards
encourage our glorious children to hide their gifts
Where are the answers
all
that can possibly stop the fall?
i feel so settled in your presence
it seems so definitively calm here
i want to go on excursions never experienced with you and just discover
once upon a time i was a lonely soul yearning for any type of communication
i remember the footprints in the dust at every corner that had the scent of stale talcum powder
i remember the cable fluctuating between being off and on every other another
i remember listening to my old walkman under a few layers of cover when the power was cut off on a very cold day in winter
i recall sitting in the dark of my dusty, cobwebbed apartment letting the streetlight conceal the truth of my loneliness
i recall the draft coming into the screen in the living room and becoming painfully dizzy from daydreaming
i heard creaks on the stair steps and crackling in the walls
even introverted the darkness has a thousand eyes to truly see
even in hiding i cannot hide the from the strong stance stare of the obvious
knowing this, i decide to take a chance to makes bells ring like the freedom flapping of each wing....
....i feel so settled in your presence
it seems so definitively calm here
i want to go on excursions never experienced with you and just discover....
if tears of the sun were the metaphorical keys
to unlock twisted trinkets of the searing sky
would you feel the festering forest~
homing arctic orchids within these veins?
or am I to remain detached and numb;
caged in a cursed collision
like an evanescent epiphany
of a misled marionette ~
screaming for a cathartic elixir….
tonight my intuition is a passive-aggressive gaslighter
manipulating the inner voice ~ like a pathological liar
freezing the floral clairvoyance…
while curiosity keeps crawling
amidst crestfallen opium
I ponder: do frost and flame, as I breathe in bleakness~
transcribe how the echo
within the fog filters reality
curated in the midst of melted angst
fluctuating like stone-blind blackness~
a drop-dead delirium kissed by the darkness
of a silent sepulcher?
I’m a prisoner of splitting supernovae
caught in polarized pyretic disruptions
for everything feels like exaggerated deceit
when truth seems like a mere dot above~
a hyphen of irrational ratios
carved from calculated confusions,
betrayed by the violent strings
of my violin heart…
Jewel layer templates
gilded upstream sigh
winsome eyelet skimmed
scorning dawn orb
Delphic mustard sketch
on sapphire sequins
Appalachian awning
bearing flimsy nuggets
surreal slender straw’s
amber seam gore
lentil seed pod float
upon cashmere shrub
rainbird doleful cry
of damp gray epoch
amid citrus rind
cloud form sun drench
flabbergasted bard now
flailing as tinted
backscatter orange
alert impacts
banana belt script
beleaguered poet yens
tangential sepia pitch
for effervescent voyage
golden jug muse
saliva whorl thimbleful
as earthly thoughts
shimmer edgeways
while the isthmus
of indented arcades
random periwinkle
brushed aside by
spineless green matrix
adapted pun bound
to lace immersive
benign rapt plumage
hedgerow chirper squall
willow warbler, goldcrest
red bunting, greenfinch
broader scope anon
spotted flycatcher fitz-bew
amongst Glen thicket
a subdued tumult
but latent twitter
mint coda riot
paper craft adrift
hankers after worlds
ethereal and
neon-wrought ploy
incandescent dream lure
suburb tang visceral
round acorn strip
fenced circlegram
hub, imbiber of
fluctuating shade
and swerve corridor
of urban transit
where pavement
clad mosaic flaunts
its pear cut diamond