Long Harlequin Poems
Long Harlequin Poems. Below are the most popular long Harlequin by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Harlequin poems by poem length and keyword.
Heed this warning, dear ladies,
Sage advice I would impart:
Don't waste your love on a man
With a harlequin heart.
He can never be trusted,
His words won't be sincere,
He will never be faithful,
And he won't shed a tear
When your dreams lie in tatters
And he's left you alone,
And he'll never endeavor
For his sins to atone.
For a while he'll beguile you,
But in the end you will find
You cannot caress a river,
You cannot embrace the wind.
He's here today and gone tomorrow,
He'll take his pleasure then depart,
And the sorrow you will treasure
Is all you'll have with which to measure
What it's like to love a man
With a harlequin heart.
Author's note: After reading Ann Peck's piece "A Seasonal Love", I once again dug into my archives and found this offering. I hope none...or not many...of you dear lady readers have experienced this kind of guy.
it took one glance into your emerald eyes’ kindest beams
for the focus to change and enlighten darkness and pain
to guide my broken refraction towards your olive skin
I felt all verglas thawing vision and join chartreuse blinks
of the moment as light sea foam pastels sprouted lush ferns
presented sage mint and lime moss to the harlequin waiting
to be brushed by honeydew colour and cinnamon fragrance
my own wilted flowers struggled at first to blossom again
hibiscus cranberry and feverish scarlet had lain abandoned
hastened by drought colour blindness and glanced disrepair
the Little Prince at the time merely a frog awaiting the kiss
looked at the broken thorns presiding over crimson petals
of vulnerable hope shattered kindness lost evergreen shoots
I love you said the candy apple and plumed with the parakeet
24th October 2021
Auburn lady envious of the blue night with its gleaming, capturing stars;
those rare diamonds, belonging to the silent and vast Universe,
you've stolen to adorn your undulating hair,
brushed by the July's harebrained breeze,
so temptingly soft and adorably fair;
if no admirer or lover seeks you, can I offer you my first dance?
Your melancholic look is fixed downward,
and you refuse to look above, nothing excites you tonight;
your external beauty cannot be resisted or ignored,
and will an harlequin, in his vividly colored costume, make you smile?
I'll play the flute brightly and make him dance to cheer you with his wit...
until your sadness leaves no sign on that sad face!
The shrill sound of the crickets can darken your spirit; listen closely, auburn lady...
sing along with the blue night, while your musical tones become the chords of my harmony!
Inspired by Edward Robert Hughes's painting: Night
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Begin by swinging from chandeliers when home
Wear matching multicolored harlequin costumes
Equip yourselves with harmonicas and bazookas
Keep lubricants and trampolines near by for safety
Practice lunar landings in your room to
Resume your activities in the great outdoors
Do sex outside in a car when retired
Bring a partner and spare tire as required
Avoid police if so inclined
Drive eighty miles an hour at all times
Watch out for sharp curves if they object
Narrow mountain roads are watching
Keep one eye on the road while inserting
Headlights and moon glow set the mood
Never use puppets when in an auto
Open highways are always open to suggestion
Mating should only occur in mid air
Eat oysters raw when in flight
Climb to greater heights
Use Airplanes for best results
Jump from wing to wing
Wear a parachute and a pirates patch
Use only one to avoid catastrophes
Take lessons from cartoons
To find out who you are
Leave farm and zoo animals out of the equation
Milking a cow is taboo too… Don't do it!
Wear rubber gloves if you must
Position yourselves to be lazy
In opposite directions for safety
Never have sex face to face
Back to back is better jumping on the bed
Apparatuses are optional
To be avoided by amateurs
Watch out for babies! (They snore)
Never run over them
It's against the law
And down right crazy
Pregnancy can be fun too
Instructions are on the dashboard
But first you must buy or rent a car
Before you floor it
Spaceship Sun shines Supreme pools of Photosynthesis -
Golden Gleams bring News - Breaking Bright News
The Light lights on "Reaching for the Sky
Early Greens and Evergreens,
their Little Leaves stretch out armbuds
above verdant blades standing up straight,
lined up in Victory stance-
obedient to Sun's Glorious Gradient...
Is it Heaven's Hope in Bounteous Blessings
Bringing downpour for Healthy Harvest?
Healing Herbs, even so called "Wicked Weeds"
Flourish in Fertile Symbiosis.
Ground over Clover brings its Evergreen
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter-
tiny blue butterflies visit, flutter-stop to sip and sip
Nourashing Nectar in tiny yellow bowls...
A "Lucky Find?" There's no trick question in this!
So now, I paint Platinum God Rays for someone.
Maybe they dont know His Merciful Message in Mid Heaven...
Strong Silver Linings Halo Harbingers
of Heaven's Royal Purple Rulership over
Eternal Earth's Harlequin Footstool Fields,
Dipped in Divine Feet Lovelight.
And always I paint with imperfect mind,
mindful of human needs and requests-
their no longer stranger smiles light up my life
with Hospitable gaze, and Godspeed you on your way.
Finally, at Long Last, I "Get It" Right.
I smile as they take home a Piece of My Heart.
Happily Signed Away.
Aqua M Pen Umbra Poems.
05/02/2024
Written a few days ago. No time like the present, to post!
As the sun sets on a another day , I look down and see a crimson stained tunic
Is this to be the last thing I see a silver bayonet covered with by life's blood
The clouds gather in my minds eye, tall ivory towers come into view
Above an Azure coloured sea with you at my side and our children playing in the sea
As I brush your ginger shoulder length hair aside to see that smile one last time
But as I look to the sky the clouds darken to a charcoal shade and blur
A strange cerise hue takes over and colours you as you fade away
And I imagine we are standing alone in a harlequin covered meadow
The gold daffodils shining out like tiny suns just blowing in the wind
My eyes close the darkness turns into a tunnel of wisteria trees blooming , I enter
and then I wake up to see you sat by my side and feel your hand in mine .
comp entry not sure if more of a short story than a poem but hey ho comp entry
"The Nightingale Burning"
I pluck the Silver chords
of your mind, sharp
talons of Phoenix
becomes a Nightingale
too slow to kiss
wet lips are burning
melting moist
from the fire that calls
Magic molds you
closer to my body
I press my ears
to hear the pulling
of your heart strings
These are the things
that passion stirs
firmly planted
between Her seated
third person
swollen satin thighs
Music marks
the spot where
sighs steal
slender fingers
to leave their touch
walking towards you
out from the
tight chords release
felt unleashed
from sensual touch
of fingertips, dreams
unseen as braille
another language
spent unraveling
secrets as a burning
Nightingale to
mute Harlequin
from the
Dark
Immensities
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Valérie Milot, harpe/harp - Smetana - Má Vlast : Vltava (Moldau)
https://youtu.be/jCy22w4r8yk
"Sweet Thang" / Shuggie Otis
https://youtu.be/oR1nf9NUlpY
;)
Marceau leans on air.
His ethereal stage, a muse.
Walls and limits come and go.
Rubber, his body
knowing what it wants.
His muscle’s tale born
in luster under polished light.
Each spectator becomes a believer,
each observer willingly accepts,
how hands make intangible dimensions,
how legs scale vaporous stairways.
You should never ask what they saw.
This myth maker made by
his allegory.
This illusion maker made by
his parable.
The converts so silent in
their seats.
The stage of rollick,
while viewers undergo the idyllic.
He ends
knowing each convert summoned their
symbolic order.
He ends
relying on collective unconsciousness.
He finishes
aware his act exists
only in the mind
of each beholder.
Jumbled and distractedly jarred,
I awoke beside myself like a wraith,
a spectator to my primal confusion,
hamstrung by the goddess Chaos,
psychotic and frightfully broken.
Drifting through scrambled shrapnel,
a witness to my scrappy scrabble salads
chasing my fleeting thoughts.
I was an ineffectual phantom weeping
wounded windswept in the rain,
a helpless hapless harlequin of shadows
in perpetual refrain.
Months passed while doctors pondered me,
I compressed moments into kaleidoscopic disarray.
My immediacy overruled past and future; and
all spacial orientation collapsed. I watched my
decline like a desperate specter, never seeing
how I could exit my vertigo maze.
But as abrupt as it began, it inexplicably stopped.
I was engulfed by luminous morning,
A bystander to my maelstrom no longer,
I arose astonished in tearful release
to a world of deeper textures
and fevered passions,
to this world where I am no longer
beside myself.
Life is a woman with twilight eyes, wrapped in dresses of unspoken dreams,
Walking barefoot through gardens of time, her steps murmur the sonnets of the ephemeral,
In a silent dance, a waltz of shadows and light, glancing over her shoulder,
On paths where leaves rest, forever falling from the trees of our memory.
She unbraids her hair in waves of melancholy, weaving it with shooting stars,
Memories cast on the night sky, like tears burning on the cheeks of heaven,
She changes her lipstick from the hues of mystical sunsets, kissing the cheeks of her hurried lover,
An eternal Adam, lost in her unseen desires, embracing the moment and eternity.
She, Life, stretches her longing arms, arching over bridges of inverted time,
Embraces the moments, melting them into echoes of laughter and weeping, spinning them into spirals,
A harlequin of fate, with masks of joy and sorrow swapped in the glades of dreams,
Where do you lead us, oh Life, shading our paths with your veil of destiny?
In autumn days, she gathers the rusty leaves, kissing them tenderly, leaving imprints,
The bittersweet blend of sadness and joy, imprinted on threads of thought and resignation,
A nymph of melancholy, with a heart wrought by nostalgia and untamed longing,
Seeking the roots of happiness in the scorched landscapes of the past, where flowers no longer bloom.
Ah, Life-woman, you are the eternal puzzle of our days, questions without answers,
Holding in your hand the key to love and the lock of loss, piercing us with your paradoxes,
In a hypnotic dance, a flow of consciousness that flows, endlessly, in infinite rivers,
Like the wings of the butterfly searching for light in the darkness of your sweet intersections.
With every breath, you dress us in unwritten stories, in your tales of winter and summer,
Your melancholy coming over us, like a mantle of kisses and whispered breezes,
Through the smoke of lost moments, we always glimpse your changing face,
Phantom of the eternal feminine, Life-maiden, Life-lady, Life-woman.