Long Fragility Poems
Long Fragility Poems. Below are the most popular long Fragility by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fragility poems by poem length and keyword.
Would you please tell me where I wronged you
Said I to Love
As we sat close to each other
Yet,
Distanced!
Would you please tell me
As I understand not,
After all,
I simply obeyed the skies,
The booms of my heart
And the tugs of my senses!
I obeyed them all
And lay there
With my soul bared,
With my porous infections exposed
With my fragility held tight in your hands!
Still, when you broke me
I chose to hide my pain
Behind sweet civilities
And neutral smiles
As,
Believing in the madness swivelling around the mysticism
Which desires our bond
Remains
A cause meant solely for the mad!
I don't understand how I wronged you
Maybe the silence, coupled with misunderstanding,
That has settled comfortably between us
Is to be blamed!
Maybe, all it requires is a push of the will
As the second hand pushes the minute one
As the winds push todays into tomorrows
As fate itself pushes souls towards their chosen journey!
Still, know that I remain yours
To handle with care
Or to break with rage
I remain yours
As your solace is to me
What nectar is for bees!
I have written for you the day I started to write
I have written lines and lines
Knowing not that I would cross your path in this world
And I shall keep doing so
As long as the body that carries me
Still has enough strength in it to allow me to!
21st June 2019
Upon the stillness of Big Sur clouds
High atop the silent summits
My solitude lies with sages
In this place of heaven
Endeared
To come to peace
In the ruins of the moon
Laying my body to rest
My eyes have turned to stone
Surrendering to freefall
Where there lies no restraint
Nor command of my being
Searching for the graces of timelessness
The flurry of breeze quavers
To take my soul
Plunging towards
An uncertain destination
My silent voice utters
"I have come to pick the lyrical flower
For my heart has yet to find its home."
In between the nettles and phantom orchid,
The coastal grasses and spineflowers
Sunlit and ethereal in the mist
A single rose of an unknown color
Speaks my name
With insatiable seduction
Capturing my unabated love
It fills my senses and enraptures me
Then slowly...
Ever so slowly, each petal of my
incarnated being
Breaks away from my heart
As the rose aspires
And dies
Left naked adorned with thorns
In the ruins of the moon
It calls my name
In the fragility of dreams
May 18, 2020
In the Fragility of Dreams Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
I unchain the caged darkness
to surrender willingly,
taste the warm, wet drips
of liquefied lament and life
tracing the cold cracks
within bruised veins
kissing patiently the searing surge
of anxiety caging and clawing
the pulse of pain-struck peace
the flesh beneath
the fragility of hope ~
purging the siren’s poison
of Beelzebub’s breath
love-drunk on dangerous desire
christening the mayhem devotion
carving temples from tempests
as the needles wake me to
a reality romanticized with nails ~
O reaper ... my beloved knight
aching to seize my light
fool me once more
seduce the stars
without a script
lure the lake of night
stripped of pretense
for I am your eternal flame
this heart, a mausoleum of
cremated calmness
and skeptical skeletons
a panoramic capture
of insanity unforgiven…
listen as the clouds spill
a thousand secrets
follow the shadow
of me and my truth
watch my skies abandon
the beautiful lies
I once worshipped ~
as I am now one amongst
the survivors of hearts I broke
while trying not to break,
the ruthless rhythm
of the game of musical chairs;
only the ones
who ran could chase ~
a memory condemned
as the cardinal sin ~
an alluring curse
damned with
Lilith’s signature, evermore…
Our star.
Feel its sting?
The little dingy one
with jagged edges
in the basement of the universe.
The star that winks... sashays ...
Relentlessly teasing- then merrily slices away.
Our star
Hear it careen like molten dreams.
The lost one that mimics a 2 am ambulance.
The one that offers fruit
then sends you crashing to the reef...
Our star
Smell it?
The one that passes perfume.
Beneath the fragility of "self-worth". of your gravity.
Then jerks it all away.
Our star
Once a blooming evening flower.
Now nibbled ran. Down to the stump.
Face down in the cold black soil,
Our star has turned to mud!
Emerging from sleep dream temerity,
his remote aurora spectral prisms
from which his wakefulness gives legerity,
from which surfaces new burgeoning aphorisms.
Truth’s contours arrayed in fluid fluency,
his morning ataraxia in the still water lake
from where his senses lose their truancy,
from where ideation sheds the opaque.
He finds repose in a moment's seclusion,
his lucid cortex in reflective possibility,
but he learns his real confirmation in inclusion,
and learns our fellowship best protects our fragility.
So quickly we imbrute each other with walls,
he knows how militarization is summoned by anxiety,
he weeps at the endless requiem protocols,
he grieves at history’s long cruel impropriety.
But he detects his promise in human need,
our struggle against forces of dehumanization,
our commission in communitarian creed,
our hope in human family realization.
Awarded second place in Poetrysoup "Grace and Solitude" rhyming poetry contest sponsored by John Hamilton.
A screaming baby hanging by the rock,
Amidst the splashing turbulence of angry waves,
I am running downhill to rescue the child,
Over slippery stones with my shaken nerves,
Time is ticking, ticking fast, between me and the scream,
I wipe my glasses to clear the mist,
to see where screaming baby lies!
Between the rock at the very edge,
It’s shirt held on by a tree branch,
The baby screams
as the wind swings it along,
a dance between life and ocean waves!
Barely six feet from the child,
I lean across a rocky ledge,
but waves rush in at me,
as if to say “No!He is mine!”
My hand reach out to grab his arm,
slippery baby with slippery hands!
The branch desires to hold him on
as I wrestle the wood to free the child,
a wet baby wrapped in my arms
screaming louder than ever before!
I roll away till we are safe
and climb my way to safety heights.
In the fragility of my dreams
I often rescue this child,
a child that lives deep in me!
Trees and boulders, ocean and rocks,
the vicissitudes of life
that would not let him be.
Written 19/05/2020
2nd placement
In the fragility of dreams contest
Sponsor Silent One
Supremacy is an illusion dressed in white
An itch for power, the motive they signed
All to cover up the truth of their crimes
A picture painted in the delusion of supposed superiority
Perspective is how they control the story
Their reputation depends on pretty white lies
Manipulated into unsuspecting neat bow ties
The end goal - for no one to ask why
Our lives they used, as bait they abused
We, the victims of prejudiced news
White becomes the picture of innocence
Black becomes the sworn enemy
Propaganda sways the unaffected
Privilege somehow becomes the victim
A hateful world breeds this symptom
An empire built on our enslavement -
To which they defend, by giving us the arc of the villain
Unwilling participants to a system corrupted
Yet, if we were to complain chaos would have erupted
The oppressed just wants their peace - uninterrupted
Law works in favour of the oppressor
The courtroom cares not for a truthful verdict,
Always siding with their creator, the real criminal
We never had a chance, they own ‘justice’
Shackled by the arms of a vicious system
Made to bite the head of the real victims
Will the white man change with their narcissism
Or will their insecurity control the direction
The hate they have, is the greatness we own
The stones they throw is the projection they hate to home
An angel
Her angelic aura came as a prize
affectionate heart kindled my soul
succored a subtle mind mellow wise;
She would often set a noble goal
for us to consummate and truly rise
Affectionate heart kindled my soul;
Aurora emerged into a bright sunrise,
Mured deep, candid traits of humanity
For us to consummate and truly rise;
Forbearance supplemented the fragility
In selfless sentiment, we were nurtured
Muted deep, candid traits of humanity;
Valiance in her core firmly structured,
Credence and perseverance twined,
In selfless sentiment, we were nurtured;
God sent me mother as I whined,
Her angelic aura came as a prize
Credence and perseverance twined,
Succored a subtle mind mellow wise.
Written December 27th, 2016
For contest by Debbie
Old poem entered into contest "terzanelle time"
by Joseph May
Every year at Chanukah,
Like from divine command,
My grandma made the cookies
All her grandkids would demand.
These humble sugar dainties,
Cut in shapes and rolled out thin,
Served as harbinger that Chanukah
Could finally begin.
But each one, crisp and delicate,
Came with the possibility
That part of it would snap away,
Because of its fragility.
So lions rarely kept their tails
And candles lost their flames.
The sturdy dreidels, still intact,
Were prized for lack of maims.
A colored sugar dusting
Coated each and every shape.
From sugar sparkles on your clothes
You never could escape.
My grandma passed her cutters down
To me, and so I strive,
With floured hands, to help to keep
Her recipe alive.
Today I gamely baked a batch;
My kids made the request.
I picture grandma’s smiling face
And think she’d be impressed.
Dear Moon,
Each syllable of your name sings a melody so serene, I find the scarcity of my own tranquility immersing on the tip of my tongue.
The hum of my profound fragility twirls along the brittle attempts to submerge into the cloud of my thunderous delicacy.
The remnants of my soul crumble into a decaying, dispense of dust, floating through the basins of Earth’s hue.
The scent of you radiates off of the vex of my skin.
An ethereal blend of elegance, silver and the spirit of my distillation.
I find each celestial fragment of my embodiment thickening in the night sky, enveloping itself into the safety of the split space within the stars.
The green of Earth farewells the gleam of my cells.
Each one shines with the shimmering pride of a newfound purpose:
The stillness of perpetuity in lunate.
The hush of eternity in galactic saint.
And the appease of permanency in cosmic quaint.
A final exhale until my excess joins your divine rock of tragical, obscured beauty.
Your gravel brushes against my skin, so calamitously determined to test my devotion, oblivious to the ache my ashes fester for you.
Dear Moon, I call your name.