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.
You've been searching for a craftsman to build you up with clay.
So I'll sculpt you with my love as I sit upon the brae.
I'll gaze up at the sunshine and talk to God; I'll say,
"Just what were you thinking when you molded her this way?"
Did you know that she—had breaks along her back?
Or when she feels sadness—her heart begins to crack?
Do you know her head—was hollowed far too thin?
There's too much room for thought; she keeps it all within.
Her feet have chipped from walking, her eyes—they see too much.
She doesn't even recognize she has the magic touch.
You could've made her stronger, at least along the rim.
Or maybe even built a smile; you could've shaped a grin.
You should've added color—a little sunshine too!
Maybe then she'd take the chance to see what she can do.
For now, I'll just keep sculpting;
I'll fill the cracks with love.
I promise not to change the girl or change what she's made of.
I’ll just soften out the sad parts, so that she can shine.
And one day she will know —that she was made just fine.
A poignant poem: a deeply emotional, elegiac reflection on grief, lost love, and the painful nature of memory.
Using the moon and an underground stream as metaphors to navigate the haunting reality of losing a romantic partner to death.
Title.
The Wolf Moon.
(A lone voice whispers)
The moon is no longer a friend of mine.
Even though it shines and looks so divine.
For looking at its gaze resurfaces old memories, hidden in my deep mind.
Spectral memories I no longer wish to find.
Memories like ghostly butterflies which flutter around: like narcotic nursery rhymes.
Butterflies leading me to my hidden, underground stream.
Filled with green foliage of all I've once been.
Some real and some only manifested in deep dreams.
And in those rising waters.
Shining so bright under the moonlight.
I see us.
Standing on a blackened bridge, holding hands with wet palms and sad faces.
And as I race to plead for us to smile.
Embrace and hug for a short while through the so familiar stream.
Feeling my bare feet crush shells from the past.
As I try to run so fast.
I always see what happens in the end.
We were both never meant to last, and as we turn away.
No longer together as lovers or friends.
A white and black poster of us. Always washes past my wet feet.
Embossed with a purple hue.
Stating.
We once loved as all lovers do.
But now it's over.
Walk back, traveller.
And when I look deep into that fast-flowing stream.
Memories of us float past, now dead.
Like our first kiss in the park.
Just before it got dark.
As always, in that sorrow-filled moment, I hear a sound like a lone bell.
Breaking the spell.
And so I walk slowly back up my hidden underground stream.
To the familiar doorway to escape my now-wet dreams
To then wake to see your beloved picture and remember how you left.
You died in January with the first rising of the Wolf Moon.
And it's why she is no longer a friend of mine.
Even though she shines so bright and looks divine.
For looking at her beautiful gaze resurfaces old memories hidden in my deep mind.
Spectral memories I no longer wish to find.
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
What can a look convey that words cannot say,
A secret held beneath my quiet gaze?
More than the trembling speech of fleeting days,
I am speaking of love and sorrow in its way.
A glance, like moonlight on a silver stream,
Can stir your heart to feel, yet leave it still,
A language deeper than our human will,
The silent echo of each waking dream.
What can a look convey that words cannot say?
A memory that clings, though lips are made dry,
A shadow of a truth too hard, hear my cry,
An understanding wrapped up in her softest pink flame.
It is the kiss before our lips may meet,
The tender warmth that lingers on her many colored skin,
The promise in the dark that whispers sin—
A glimpse of all the things we're too afraid of to speak.
A look can hold the sorrow of my many years,
The unspoken depths of joy, all of my quiet fears.
So how can my words compare with this quiet art?
A look reveals the language of each beautiful heart.
Good afternoon my lady
Lemme introduce myself,I am a poet
I love playing with words and creating puns
I am ready to plant you in my paragraphs
Print smiles on your face and paint them with words
I will curve you in every stanza, each line will echo your name
I'll put full stops at the end of every sentence
Every comma will pause and gaze at the beauty rightfully possessed
My lines will always curl to make your hair more beautiful
Every word will always caress them and hold them in a ponytail
If you read this poem, I had you in contemplation
With every line will write off the painful past you've had
I adore stars,moon and everything that sparkle
During summer, I'll plant five stars in every stanza
Every line will water them until they blossom
And during winter nights I'll take you outside to show you how twinkling the stars I planted for you
I will always remind you how beautiful you are
How this poet loves you for I will bite one poem for you
To appreciate God for creating you on a Monday when He had strength
My lines will not spare your ribs,you'll laugh your heart out
Please, do teach me how to dance
So that I can always dance to your heart beat
I love the sound of your name in excess
You're always warm and you do melt my heart Elsie
Who else can I see?
John Lenda (Poetic World,2022)
We need a refresher course in mercy and love.
For once again, we've allowed Fascism
to raise its ugly head; while we stayed silent!
Life is harsh, and pain is a part of it.
But, so too is love!
Often, feelings of compassion surface
only to be ignored;
as we retreat to the darker corners of our minds.
Our voice is powerful, combined with others.
Yet, we feel it'll make no difference,
so, we choose to stay mute.
Our fears and frustrations
cower like subordinate shadows
ashamed to be seen.
We are all tethered to our feelings,
and when we allow our humanity full rein:
Hope summons sensations that can alter our reality.
We need to metaphorically
sever the political head of Medusa:
so our hearts no longer turn to stone;
under the intolerant gaze of bigots.
And reaffirm that our moral foundation
is an extension of our faith:
and that we will no longer remain silent.
At our passing, it's our souls God will judge;
not our political affiliations.
As cave-dweller O man, thou wert crudest,
Ere civilized and a bit social made,
In a painstaking long march to the crest,
Evolving— a seed of creed mutated,
Ye struggled long before brought home baked bread,
As weeds lose out ere mutate in maze
Of labyrinthine lanes darker than dread,
From chaos were created newer ways.
No growth hast grown that would not get modest,
Undeterred, no head hath moved nigh ahead,
All progress in time tends to pause post-haste,
As brightest rainbows fizzle out to fade—
The nature of Nature none can evade,
Nature unfolds in long phase, not in days,
To vales turn top peaks that were once jaded,
Creation as comes in chaotic ways.
In eons human hope kissed vales and crest,
Surviving in cosmic womb, never dead,
Suffering birth pain quite un-manifest,
Remember, yon of that tall mountain head
Lies your fond dream. Do walk on, go ahead,
Not just on peaks, hope lives in vales, at base,
In journey too to enjoy, never dread,
A way forward comes from chaotic ways.
Envoi
Keep climbing, if hope be the only aid,
Inhale hope in every breath, don’t just gaze,
At rope’s end, O hang on by just hope-led,
For, from chaos are built morrow’s fairways.
____________________________________
Musings | 03.02.2011 | Hope
Poet’s note: Heart, it seems, lives on the edge of hope. The brooding head hesitates, delves into new depths, meanders, groping for a way out. Seeing the way much of the world is moving today, one tends to indulge in melancholic thoughts. Has man lost all hopes? I don't know but hope, it’s not so. Civilization, I suspect, is an inverted bell-shaped curve. Things get worse before they get better. Read also my ‘Hope: A bird wordless that sings', a ballade.
We gaze
The rock star serenades us
With platitudes
Neither near or far
Though only attainable
Appreciated
By submission
By admission
That you will never be
Never wander
Never wonder
For they've performed the
Magic for us
Catapulting rage into
Sweetened sirens
Alert
Only to string us down the toxic path
Of misty false alarms
Yeah
Our fists soar
We're with them
We're one
We're them
The cautionary whispers
Lyrics to technicians
Desperate for form
Blow sullen, sticky tidings
Caught
Slurped
Swallowed, not spit out
For the glaze, the grandeur
Coats our throats
With lusty love
Tingly, tangy, tortuous
Love
Shared among all, we
Receptacles who vanquish
Their minds, souls and ids
Obliging
Harmonic, aural orgies
Prudence withheld
For acceptance is aligned
With the suspension
Of societal diets
Well-measured
To trick us
Trick all
To believe that
Scraping, scratching
Toward maniacal horizons
Somehow cannot be human
Though they've never
Once
Flickered
Abandoned
The self
To marvel
Manifest
Into a glorious whole.
(1/20/04)
A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH
The silky pearly-white soft skin, beneath her comb's dark beams
and her intriguing olive eyes' attentive, thoughtful gaze,
behind the night's befalling veil, with elegance supreme,
like mystic crypts enchant the men and cause infernal blaze.
Involuntarily transmits her messages across
a forest nymph expands her spell beneath the moonlight's phase,
beguiles the thoughts; romantic dream her cherry lips of gloss
the nightly creatures stuns and laws of reason disobeys.
Untamed, a diamond in the rough, the nymph in darkness shines
without a partner to escort her dance beneath the sky,
denies to coexist with men, proposals she declines,
and so belongs to breezy streams, that lift her image high.
© Olive Eloisa Guillermo, 08-20-2014, All Rights Reserved
(Quatorzain or Iambic heptameter
In the mirror's gaze, a reflection stares
A soul so worthy, yet often unaware
Of the love that's needed, the care that's true
The acceptance that starts with "I love you"
Embrace your flaws, your quirks, your grace
Your strengths and weaknesses, your every trace
Love the lines that tell your story so far
Love the heart that beats, the soul that shines like a star
In a world that criticizes, compares, and judges too
Remember to be kind, to yourself, anew
For you are enough, just as you are
A unique masterpiece, beyond compare
So let the love you seek, begin with you
Embrace your worth, your beauty, your truth
Make sure you love you, with all your heart
And you'll find that love will never depart.
As he stands with his head high, his heart sighs,
His heavy heart weighs down his soul,
Tears fall silently, the fallen drag his weary eyes red,
A helmet worn to hide a man’s burdens,
A man stands there, but not a man at all.
Among the crowd, a woman catches his eye,
Her skin pure white, her gaze better than the stars,
His eyes meet hers, but words he dares not speak,
For she is royalty, and he, a servant meek.
Yet his eyes began to shine, forbidden light within,
He stands in shadows, sword ready to begin,
The blade thirsts, ever parched for its fight,
For his duty is clear: to guard through day and night.