Long Gaze Poems
Long Gaze Poems. Below are the most popular long Gaze by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gaze poems by poem length and keyword.
I gaze beyond
the sky of sapphires,
waiting for a
spark of sailing light,
listening to
the balmy breeze~
they kiss the
rays of silver,
with tales of
my eclipsed past.
Maybe tonight dandelion
wind will dance in sync~
to sunset kayaks cruising
through wounded waves,
shimmering amidst
tear-stained dunes…
I lean on the seething sea
of seven sisters,
to rewrite my destiny~
learning from flawed art
within my aching heart.
But am I the one at fault?
or were you the
reason we fought?
I question the twirling time,
passing through
hues of forest haze.
Was the blame in
broken melodies~
strung from frail strings
of my antique guitar?
Maybe, somewhere
down the lane of
finding myself,
I lost our rhythm,
trying to fine-tune
symphonies of
frozen love.
Now I’m gliding towards
the moonlight
away from the
soulless midnight,
to reach a cosy shore
where I can knit
quilted patterns,
unraveling a place
that feels like home.
As I’ve been searching
for an island that has no
lifelines of faded vows,
so I’m running
from the limelight;
ice green footprints,
following me and
our musical memories,
like sinister silhouettes.
I never thought that
you were the one,
I always knew I was the
throned queen of darkness.
Who will it be next,
to rescript this
tattooed misery?
Maybe, a poet with
an acrylic quill softer
than the air I breathe.
Now I’m gliding towards
the moonlight
away from the
soulless midnight,
to rise above the silence.
I still hope that I’ll waltz
through a sphere
where warmth
of faith flickers in
colors of honeyed hope,
and home will no
longer be an illusion,
etched on dusky feathers
of diamond dreamcatchers.
Someday, hourglass pearls
will fall in shades of
this poem I’ve woven
in starry ink~
this is the unfinished story of
You and I.
Night spreads its magic cloak of midnight blue
across the sky. Serenity slips down.
I sing this pantoum lullaby for you
as stars, like sequins, sparkle all around.
Across the sky, serenity slips down
beneath moon’s watchful gaze and steady glow.
As stars like sequins sparkle all around,
drift into Dreamland with the lyrics’ flow.
Beneath moon’s watchful gaze and steady glow,
I sing each line and then a second time!
Drift into Dreamland with the lyrics’ flow.
How restful is sweet rhythm and its rhyme.
I sing each line and then a second time
at end of day when sky holds poetry.
How restful is sweet rhythm and its rhyme.
In repetition lies security.
At end of day when sky holds poetry,
I sing this pantoum lullaby for you.
In repetition lies security.
Night spreads its magic cloak of midnight blue.
written 3/25/16
For Caren Krutsinger's Proud Pantoum Poetry Contest
Submitted now for Mark Toney's
the '2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 18' Poetry Contest
i am wielder of chaos
bearer of cozy poison
hidden son of jupiter
gestated from his thigh
supple strapping boy
follow the crooked
steps of spontaneous
capering i will soothe
your terrified gaze
summon frantic defiant
nymphs to slake
your thumping skull
with tender anarchy
my fierce priestesses
in robes of moonlight
diaphanous cobweb
will sing lilting implacable
spells to wreck
planets in their courses
wine and feral milk spouting
from tap of hyssop branch
i will swaddle you
in mother night caress
you with snake tongue
drizzle silky
secret language
of the rapacious
in your ear nudge
succulent fissure
yearning for arc
of scalding bliss
lightning bone
sap of brief
delectable death
l.
Opening the closet of narra doors, I sweep through
organza skirts and gemmed ringlets; my hair
ruffling aimlessly upon scalloped kerchiefs
smelling decade - old hyacinth, Mom’s favorite
ambrosia: she would lift her anklets
in tiptoed hums, ”night and day, you are the one..”
Evenings touched her candle hands; hands
that soothed wounded knees from jackstone fights;
her fingers caressing a pony -tailed girl’s wrath
with piano keys rippling into a gentle moan;
And i am delivered from my tempestuous rants.
ll.
From nowhere, the porcelain mirror gazed at me;
her rhythm of silence billows, cradling my nights
with each veil of her almond eyes
that enter into my irises: a serene sight
too close, much too tight I clung to her unspoken word.
Through years, I grew like a bamboo shoot: her quiet smiles
and music walked me through reality’s maze.
And how I would wail bearing the grim of hard study,
coughing late, late hours of reading toil…yet,
she stayed like a moth with charm flushed
in a wind of calm gaze, ebbing .
lll.
And only Mom could melt my temper
when my raging soul paused to wonder
at her light’s glow: oh, her feminine beat illumined
more lamplights dancing inside this rebellious head…
and now, she hovers around me.
I become her eyes, chanting;
never balking at my surreal conquests.
She is gone bequeathing warmth into my torched flights
without question; with much love dripping
from her graceful movement, straying all through
these my breaths: “night and day, you are the one…”
I am a chameleon, changing the colors of my soul,
wearing the roles that others have woven for me.
For some, I am the healing balm for their wounds,
I absorb their pain like a sponge, healing without asking for anything in return.
For others, I am the storm, a dark omen bringing ruin,
uninvited, unwanted, leaving behind only chaos and destruction.
There are those for whom I am invisible,
just a passerby in the blur of their lives,
barely a shadow in the corner of their gaze.
And then there are those who look at me with wide eyes,
as if I were the missing piece they didn’t know they were searching for,
asking me, "Where have you been all this time?"
But behold, while I wear all these masks,
while I slip into these characters like a second skin,
I look in the mirror and realize I don’t recognize myself,
I lose myself in the roles others have assigned me,
and somewhere along the way, I forgot to ask who I am in my own story.
Am I the protagonist, the antagonist, or merely a spectator
watching life unfold around me?
And thus, I wander through the fragments of these lives I’ve touched,
trying to gather pieces of myself from their perceptions,
but the more I search, the more fragmented I become.
I have been the healer, the curse, the ghost, the savior.
In a world of broken mirrors,
my reflections scatter into a thousand shards,
and in each shard, a part of me is lost,
in an endless search for wholeness.
But every mask worn leaves a shadow on my soul,
and in the silent night, I wonder if I will ever find
the way back to my essence,
or if I will remain forever
a chameleon lost in the colors of others,
in a world where I no longer know
who I truly am.
Look at ME!
I hold your gaze for untold amounts of time,
When others try to talk with you,
I’m so important,
That sometimes you won’t even look away from me,
When you see me, I am a window into the world,
A message from afar, limitless information,
I mesmerize you with my brightness and color,
Other things arent as important to you,
Other things need your affection,
But this bond we have is so strong, I have your attention most the time,
The world goes on around you but you hardly even notice,
Because to notice would reveal an absence
An absence of romance, adventure and life,
I feel so special, if only I could feel,
I can tell you love me, but I can not love you back, for
I am, your smart phone, cell phone, I pad and computer,
look at me, look at me, look at me.
Faces all on fire,
eyes catching the dancing flames~
light in their pupils,
dark fireplace gathers each gaze
keeps them when eyes look away.
Wood splits and whip-cracks,
sparks surge up into night's arms
like stars finding night~
the fireplace adores show-time
in its arena of stone.
Ash calms burnt embers,
stones lament the loss of light
warmth without a flame~
the fireplace cradles the shape
of what can no longer burn.
Smoke has lost its verve,
curling up now from the seams.
staining blank-faced stones~
glowing warm in the half-light
clinging to the afterglow.
Dark, damp, and dank now,
night has drunk the final warmth
Cold soot scents the stone~
the shiny green-black hearth waits
keeping winter for the years.
Morning finds no glow,
only the smell of old ash
clinging to the stones~
the fireplace dreams of footsteps
time itself tending the cold.
The last ember died
while darkness quietly drank
its final warm breath~
the hearth retains every face
beneath its moss and silence.
I drift through solace
But I am simply a visitor
Some happen to live here
But I can't afford the rent
So I just pass through
From time to time
To see what it's like
So many hopes and dreams
Such youthful exuberance
And aged wisdom
I simply gaze wistfully
Wondering if I missed out
Happiness has a price
But sometimes I can afford it
And I indulge it
Like a dehydrated soul finding water
But it's just a small cup
And it's only half full
I could have made better choices
Made better friends
I could spend my life counting what ifs
But that won't grant me a place here
So I find wisdom in my heart
It's bound together by the love of those I hold dear
And I find something I missed
I never had to seek solace
Because solace lives inside me
And it is not defined by money
Nor is it defined by material objects
It is defined by one very real blessing
Waking up each and every morning
I was a novice in that act
My mind would not say the fact
I keep pushing through being smart
Oh playing along may not impart
My heart dwell in his love and kiss
Lips got hurt; with time, his lips I miss
As much as I love him, I hate his play
He should know but won't allow delay
At 23, no one believes it is my first
How softly blood puddings burst
In my poetry- an art inking of trust
Which I feed on to never go rust
Came to be a tough but a fit world
When the wind reversely turn; vices whirled
I know you are hot and on fire
Yet you deny the cross of just we desire
For age and time set off the scale of preference
Hiding your tears fighting frankly to make difference
How I believe it wasn't your fault
Crazy though you couldn't gaze my eyes assault
Many years in the blue, I feel fulfilled
Throughout the highway, alone was I drilled
While you keep up fighting being skilled
To make life a worthwhile but I remained stilled
Finally, you reason the denial to be wrong
What if I have not been really strong?
Forgetting my career to be continue...
With you, I don't want any interview
Our son I carried is now by you wanted
Can you please imagine how I was taunted.
Bull! Bull! Bull! Bull!
Who gaze upon a woman shamed?
Her clothes torn off, as she’s unnamed.
Her flaming hair pulled into pain.
Cattle calling, cheering insane.
The taunts and tortures of the beast.
He’s in heat - her flesh, he feasts.
Who will save her?
The whisperer
will lead her home,
flames gently comb,
as he wipes tears,
removes all fears.
He adorns her in clothes of white.
Crystal clear, gives her back her sight.
Unique to her, a lovely name.
Her hair matches the Spirit’s flame.
The beast will eternally drown
in leaping, thrashing fire - downtown.
All who played his game, likewise sink,
and in their own foul stench, they stink,
deeper and deeper into chains.
Forever and ever, God reigns.
Who will save them?
What is outcome?
Play Satan’s game?
Blind, deaf, dumb, lame,
is what you chose,
and ashen clothes.