Long Furl Poems
Long Furl Poems. Below are the most popular long Furl by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Furl poems by poem length and keyword.
Memories flutter like Post-It notes,
with scribbles faint and worn.
Reminders fade in the winds they’ve made,
my pages are tattered and torn.
Notes twist and swirl, then dip and curl,
in a wild and frantic breeze.
A cyclone spins where thoughts have been,
scattering all my memories.
Papers alight and suddenly take flight,
spinning frantically far and near.
But the harder I try, the stronger they fly,
increasingly more unclear.
I feel bold and reach to hold—
but my notes slip further away.
And piece by piece, I lose my peace,
as my library fades to gray.
The scattered scraps come fluttering back,
then flicker, furl, and flee.
A swift retreat, my memories fleet,
I’m not who I used to be.
An unraveling mind, fading line by line,
my life in vanishing ink.
Clinging to time and what’s left of my mind,
my sanity is on the brink.
But the yellow storm still rages on,
the cruel winds blow with might,
And time will steal all that was real,
‘til there’s nothing left but night.
-Edward
Eye, bye, sigh, die, guy, fly, rye, why.
Rhyming words.
I love them.
Tambourine, unseen, too lean, ugly mean,
Rhyming words.
Can’t get enough of them.
Bang, clang, dang, fang, gang.
Boo, hoo, Lucy Lu, True, Woo, moo, Goo…
Delightful.
Insightful.
Flashlight-ful.
Okay, maybe some of the words are made up,
But who can resist words like hup, sup, tup, and pup?
Befog, clog, quahog.
I could do this all day.
Zipper. Ripper. Slipper.
I am on a tear for real.
Peal, meal, heal, kneel, squeal, zeal…
This is making my day.
Hay, may, jay, tray, cray.
I’m really starting to play.
Squirrel, rural, hurl, swirl, twirl, girl, furl.
I can feel my eyes light up with glee.
Rhyming words make the world
Delightful for me.
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By Any Other Name would smell as sweet
Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare
ROSE CAPULET
Put aside the rose by any other name, the dozen scent
of lover’s potent petals, exacting thorns that pierce the skin.
His soulmate’s countenance - like baby’s breath and intent.
Her pink pinched cheeks, soft as velvet, a bright budding win.
The lovely romance of Capulet adorned with thrilling furl.
Sweetness permeates from Shakespeare’s intervening,
phrase caught betwixt the feuding, an idyllic poetic pearl.
Cruel cessation of fluttering heartbeats - unforeseen things.
Juliet’s petals still - like Aurora’s lips longed to be kissed.*
Her Romeo clueless to her pretense downs caustic curse.
His rapturous love awakens — wan rose can only coexist
in the arms of death. Dagger turns rose red in abiding verse.
11/14/2021
Robert Liguori’s Rose Contest
*Aurora was the name of the fairytale’s Sleeping Beauty who was awakened by her prince with a kiss. Juliet was in a temporary coma
but Romeo never received her explanation letter.
Lonely Awaits
This gathering furl of past
Rising from love’s once moist heart
Now but dry sorrow
Lingering stubbornly
Where once its canvas
Of vibrant color
Rainbowed the future
Today only flaking memories small
Drift downward
Joining queues of bygone erosion
Where emotions of stalwart bedrock
Once held firm
Like aging scree
Time continues biting thin
Moving yesterday’s drifts into exile
Chased by fossiled feelings
Once of molten passion
Now but withering dunes
Aimlessly adrift
This expanse of solitary
Whom death made giant of wind
And small as hourglass sand
Whose Sabbath wore Mary Jane shoes
Waxed each Saturday
Polished to reflective mirrors
Paying homage
To steepled Sunday service
Was made to sit upright
Conscious of ruler at the ready
Reciting the ancient book
Whose guilt-motive stories
Promised good girl suppers
To close out Lonely’s black Sunday
Agonized memories past
Seem ever present
Pain’s last remaining stand
Pleads why ghost towns await
Why deserts only preserve such places
From drifting grit of expired time
Like the sand
Lonely awaits another tomorrow
Fractured
Scattered
Clinging to its impoverished identity
Here I am
Lonely mutters each night
Its head buried in nocturnal safety
Unable to forget its childhood fear
Perhaps never to be vanquished
To always be at the mercy
Of wind and tide
Its dreamt upon cheerful voice
Never being heard
Here I am
Here I am
Let there be light lights,
beneath the intricate furl,
the first to be created; light
colored, attractively beautify,
exposing all thing to every situation; these light
travelling with speed unimaginable
even darkness can't comprehend.
The light of all lights which lighted up darkness
as we contemplate we're change to the same image; light
without borders we reign everywhere.
These light lead in the path of righteousness
collapses to a single location this year
unlike in the days of ignorance when we
believe in perspective truth
now, now we got direction.
Our eyes flooded with light,
our path leading to luminous efficacy
emitting spontaneously glory
even our deflection bring blessing
when the world is in calculated contradiction confusion,
blinded by the god of this world,
upon us had the light shined.
These aesthetic effect gives us enhance appearances
bringing us to a general luminance level
and glorified radiance with superior approximation,
greater light enough to change any tale
rewriting again with lights our victories this year
we'll no longer be guided by the assumptions of darkness
for our light had come revealing in us Gods glory
shedding all over, transmitting spatial trans-formational info,
the good news of the father of light.
Burning and shining even in regions unknown
our path illuminated
our dream crystallized by new perspective
our focus redefine by these light
which came in his word by this hybrid resolution
we create colors through light therapy
welcome to the lights.
It's straight, I think, and gladly start,
Faith and hope and trust fill my heart;
Flora and fauna and fields fresh,
Climbers and creepers crawl enmesh...!
Trails with bushes and choke and block,
I twist and turn and thwack the lock;
Hills and vales and mountain- cliffs curl,
Way unto way many ways furl...!
Dogs and cats are part of the way,
Could cattle and hogs keep away;
Mild and wild are beasts of jungles,
Seem perplexed as though in bungles...!
Men and women rich and poor join,
Good and bad seem sides of same coin;
Yet, when Jesus says: I'm the way,
Who will, with him, succeed to stay...?
24 April 2023
Palm fronds clatter
in a Santa Ana wind
and I am bitter as quinine.
Leaves furl
as the dead hands of summer
and I am bitter as wormwood.
The sun could burst in my anger,
leaves its flame in my ears
instead of forgotten promises.
If to give up is to hear truth
I wish I were deaf,
not to hear the sham
of words and music
and to steel in silence
rather than my heart bleed.
Tell me nothing but facts:
that sky is blue, but not cerulean.
Say sun is hot,
not warm as love's breath.
Teach me not to wait
for lies to blossom like ranunculus
in my heart's winter.
Speed blindness
and I will lie in the dark,
not to wait for day's break.
5th Place
Mid Summer Premier Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
7/21/17
I feel a butterfly inside;
its wings are cramped within my breast.
The weight of flesh, o dull cocoon,
prohibits my free flight. At best
I only soar inside; my wings--
gossamer, light, remain untried.
I wait...I wait...until the day
the barred' cage is flung aside
and airy wings lift toward the skies.
I have felt this graceful creature
flutter faintly deep inside;
then, at times, so ardently,
I think no way will it abide!
It will be loosed! Its wish to fly
will push the bars of flesh aside.
Determined is this butterfly
to show its colors multiplied
and wing its way through azure skies.
The time is drawing near, I'm sure;
the throbbing swells within my heart.
The cumbrous cocoon, filled with life,
is bursting now, falling apart.
The butterfly is breaking free;
no more its wings will tightly furl,
but lightly spread upon the breeze
their filmy webs, gilded and pearled...
and, then, my soul will leave this world.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, 1987
The scarlet art of the sapphire sky of my halcyon heart
sparkled with sequined glow of the lone moon leaning low.
I tried tempted to touch your topaz sheen tinted unseen,
but you didn’t stay, slowly sauntered away out of my view
from my silky sky I shaped for you with pure joy for sure.
From the dark domain of dismantled dainty rainbow arc
strong storm surged with snapped shards of slashing scorn,
shattered my sublime sky while stowing in dispersed debris pile.
I couldn’t foresee how to dredge the drowned dreams free
from deep despair before destined day to depart came my way.
I shoved the splinters of my shattered soul on the sly,
turned them into a single white rose, residing in my heart close.
When on the run you returned to my garden under sensual sun
its fragrance fine floated with the pure passion of mine divine.
When in your sweet smile the curl of its pristine petals I saw un-furl
I knew the onset spark of the new beginning it’d memorably mark.
Laughter will hunger for your mouth
On mornings that break ominous,
Though the cold shoulder from above
Shoves from view all that’s luminous.
When breezes wheeze, die in your hair,
Laughter will hunger for your mouth.
Rheumatic boughs point at Sol’s lair,
Where rays wait like a virgin dove.
Daydreams may furl their wings and pout,
And song wither in every throat,
Laughter will hunger for your mouth,
When twilight hoists colors afloat.
The promise by today unkept
Returns to mirthless angels rout.
Long as the last tear is unwept,
Laughter will hunger for your mouth.