Long Gemini Poems
Long Gemini Poems. Below are the most popular long Gemini by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gemini poems by poem length and keyword.
Turquoise and aquamarine uplifts me
whether in a swimming pool liner
a new sundress, a polka dotted ribbon on a hat
or a gemstone.
This hue is mystically magical in my soul’s mind.
She inspires my imagination to play and frolic.
She brings me the Hawaiian ocean.
I see white sand without foot prints.
She is more popular with me than diamonds.
Thus, I traded my wedding ring for
A gorgeous blue topaz pear on a beautiful opal band
The wedding ring with a diamond is somewhere…..
When the light hits my turquoise ring,
there are moonbeams and sunbeams
Reminding me of 1957 Chevy, and a gorgeous prom dress
I wore as a senior. She replenishes and refreshes me.
Turquoises or aquamarine are as much a Gemini color
As purple, silver or green; in my case, more uplifting
than diamonds, jade, or amethyst.
I adore the joy this color brings me.
Chambermaiden, a damsel in distress,
Cinderella, Prince's Valet high on Stella's finesse.
A fury by a butchered phreak,
screaming at him, no mercy to speak.
Living in underworlds with the creeps,
foreshadowing defeat.
Inebriated ex-socialite seeks Bhang,
meets manservant, hopping with the gang,
dodging a renegade from Hades,
in her ’98 Mercedes, green as despair,
his fate—servitude, escape just a prayer.
"Come hither, quiver, express card in the dresser,
stressor, benefactor, donor,
red eye for an eye—see it from my side,
in the black, red ink, brink.
Debutante saunters higher,
landing on her supplier’s bones."
Manservant spending nights with Pythia,
maxing the visa, obscuring the vista,
canopy open, hair blowing,
severing ties with the Phreak,
berated as he summits an intellectual, sexual peak.
"We reincarnate in the ether,
post-war fever,
two Gemini after Hiroshima,
ending the edema."
Trajectory lost in audio-tronic streams,
specters vocalize on the chorus machine,
sonic dream, quiet screams in a Fiesta,
sunset serene,
ready, keen,
torn apart at the seams.
Godless oracle with a Pluto-shaped crater,
underneath the beret,
Immortal spun out on prognosis,
rage hitting me deep.
Pythia, flushed, bitter red,
breath heaving, chest heaving.
Words stumble in gasoline,
purple and green.
Bumbling, fumbling, hostile,
peeling paint from blank walls—
committee, selective few.
Pity for Pythia,
teetering off the ledge,
obscene, smoking green.
Words paid for by the prophet of industry,
servant of power,
planting his own crop,
finding the hot spots.
Houses for dots on success’s map,
cheques signed to a woman on edge,
running from wrecked family homes,
parking lot regret.
Catching an ounce from a mobile house,
rolling down the street,
rent-a-wrecked, reeking of cheese.
Row upon row, he patrols,
marking targets with IOUs,
fast sales, cold criminal moves,
overcharging intoxicated fools.
Out of luck but not the stooge,
trading stash for a getaway dash
with his honey from the shadowed street,
whistling off-kilter,
mouth full of vapor, exposed brain-meat.
She fell from Olympus’s feet,
thrown out for misdeeds,
new queen on the block,
urgency speaks
“a mute tongue is a slave to silence” -
Silent One
let the happy heart sing out loud and clear,
let air vibrate, reach angels in heaven,
golden rainbow awaits in rain to hear,
glories that our mother earth has given.
every day is day of celebration,
every ray of light is a ray of hope,
every breeze passes for an occasion,
every hill blooms with flowers on its slope.
let your tongue be the sweet voice of your soul,
describe the fabric nature has woven,
flush out darkness, mine out the devil’s coal,
find god in each true word that is spoken.
entrapment of the tongue in chains of fear,
silence enforced through rivets of distress,
break free for ever and shed not a tear,
let joys frolic, each season in a new dress!
voice is a gift to break silence beyond,
silence that fills void between life and death,
cut free from silence let your tongue respond,
thank God in heaven, for life he bequeath.
oh haste brumal mist that twilight has kissed
on the hollyhocks, meadow-born
sweet tears resurrected on petals neglected
collected 'midst early morn …
the dew-christened flow’rs parading the hours
croon hope to the unblemished hearts
then rises the moon while it saunters to swoon
and the ballet of eventide starts …
tall grasses that thrive with new life, come alive
with a shimmer of luminous lights
a slow-spinning dance of the glowing romance
that July has thus gifted its nights …
a heavens' breast lighted by stars, unrequited
sets stage on the vault, high above -
night's magic gone viral, as fireflies spiral ...
in a whimsical waltz ... of love.
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with Gemini AI / Meta AI software )
Oh, how I’m longing to float to my death
Not e’er again heave sweet CO2 breaths
Each of us whirl with a dance all our own
Loosed by a mistral and heavenly-blown
All of our lives we’ve provisioned The One
Synthesized O2 with bright from the sun
Tasting the rainfall whene'er a cloud burst
Wetting our folds for the deep-rooted thirst
And now in the autumn endeavor the spring
Let loose our branches to dance and to sing
Trading our green for the shades of the sun
Zanzibar waits when our last waltz ... is done.
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with Gemini AI / Meta AI software )
I am a self-portrait
portraying myself & second self
though, I am just of one flesh
one mind and soul,
I've expressions
of two psyches, dualities
two distinctive women
of two heritages
Didymous are the
liking's of Castor & Pollux
deluxe in statuesque, in alabaster
we are spiritual twinship
thunder & lighting, two-fold
from left to right,
in Victorian elegance
a wedding gown
On the right of me,
in Tehuana frock, fabulosa
I arose from the overworld
one of Northern celestial
the other southernmost
we are twins separately
by surgical pincers, bleeding hearts
as crimson seeps onto white cotton
it stains with the past & present pains
we share one main artery
torn up, broken down
yet are countries apart
with hands clasped
together, we are Gemini
My Libra is completely gaga over me; I am a Gemini.
He has been pursuing me since we were five-years-old.
He told our first-grade teacher that he was going to marry me.
He is determined and resolute; I held a grudge about this for years.
When I gave him another chance, we were fifteen-years-old.
We became best friends because he is honest, kind, and can be silly.
He makes me laugh, and he always has my back.
There is no one I trust more than my Libra.
We have been married for fifty-four years; children who met at age four.
A Gemini and a Libra, the best marriage combination of all.
The greatest tent with its sparkling light,
the ultimate show of all tonight.
Bears, Scorpions, Bulls, Lions and Crab,
are some of the creatures on the twinkling map.
Aquarians, Librans and Gemini in the air,
while Sagittarians shoot those arrows fair.
Wandering giants of Saturn and Jupiter so slow,
taking eons to proof that determined grow.
Glittering Venus pasturing with a gentle whip,
keeping marsion wild beasts on narrow bolder wit.
Simulated danger in the Lions toothless mouth,
rolling drums get the senses aroused.
The funny distraction from Mercury’s to and fro,
laughter from a drama slapstick show.
Mysterious shadows turn to acrobatic skills,
when luminous hand and feet the darkness fills.
The trapeze of turning light in swing,
flying glittering Asteroids holding the ring.
Delphinus and Heraclites dancing the waltz of time,
juggling and balancing another new Moon frame.
Thousand astrologers as master of ceremony,
hailing the act of bend and change in that century.
When all planets cue up a conjunction,
centrifugal gravity by Carousel labor love function.
If then you heart is filled by some magic troubadour,
dreaming the ‘Gypsy’ in the ropes is the part for sure.
Falling back through the abyss of a huge astrolabe,
in speed of light a timeless flied takes shape.
A chariot with 7 horses is the conjunction of the soul,
virtual reflections inviting, from my face washing bowl.
Kindly, God created humans with luck
In a garden, He placed Adam with martini
Not to live hurdles, but happiness in ton
Gambling, humans weren’t allowed to long
With power, Adam sat on the garden pew
In times God made him Eve, a helper Gemini
To crown him with all possible powers to get
Hence a king, all prerogatives with.
Now Eve causes trees grow thorn
Ongoing suffering roots in Eden go
Cos Eve listened to the Serpent comic
Rays of hope vanished for ever
Over time, Adam has to sweat to eat too
Without hope of returning to Eden window
Now, Adam has lost his crown
Poem by Mugisho N Theophile
( iambic tetrameter )
my chief ...
my thoughts go back to that again -
the day you found me on the plain
a-bleeding from a musket wound
and dying slow with fear and pain
mine own folk left me there to die
and not spend cares for such as I
an orphaned white boy, still a child
with troubled heart, I won't deny
yet you and yours lent mercy then
with no concerns of who I'd been
and reared me as your very own
to gain the ways of Tlingit men
my course - sure not an easy life
more basic, yes, but hardship rife
and still my gut and heart are full
with joys of fam’ly, food and wife …
and now I watch this poignant fire
hot-sparkling cinders drifting high’r
while tribe and I conduct you home
all dancing ‘round your fun’ral pyre
these flaming embers turn the thief
and steal you off, dear father, chief
so sad, I yet command the flames
to scorch away my crushing grief …
and yet, as each one climbs on high
those precious mem’ries - you … and I
are borne tow’rd heaven, ever-bright
and placed as stars …
upon the sky.
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with Gemini AI / Meta AI software )