Long Hemoglobin Poems
Long Hemoglobin Poems. Below are the most popular long Hemoglobin by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hemoglobin poems by poem length and keyword.
It is time for natural blossoming
Into each other’s blood corpuscles
It is the time for the chocolate melting
Under the heat of chaotic muscles
Come and put out the light
It is the spring in your Alps
Fascinating is the dynamite
Red flowers in our pulse
What is the matter darling
Will you defy all red signals
Your hemoglobin has picked up rhythm
Crazy looks in your petals
Oh, oh, it is the eternal generator
Of fire in love and sword in passion
Those little winged cupids in every letter
Of your lyrics in impish invitation
It is the churning time of our existence
It has come in the surges of fusion
Of quivering and pulsating ascendance
Towards the patterns of swirling blue explosion
The love of mine Valentine
I know my time with its plough
Seeks to combine the rivers yours and mine
As the cupid pulls back the bow
_______________________________________
07/01/2017
** DISCLAIMER: This poem is a parody of a hymn: "Joyful Joyful We Adore Thee", some of you might have hymnals that call this song "Ode To Joy". The lyrics in a hymnal are from Henry van Dyke and the melody is from Ludwig van Beethoven! The parody is all mine!
Breakfast breakfast we will eat you
Food of morning, break my fast,
bellies are empty and grumpily inside you,
opening energy start the day.
Melt the pain of hunger and tired
drive the dark of night away;
Giver of fulfilling energy,
Fill us with the fuel of day!
All your nutrition my blood to carry
cells and oxygen resound the fill,
Brain and organs work around you
breakfast break the nightly fast.
White cells, red cells hemoglobin,
Energy fields fuel of day
Toast and eggs and maybe coffee
call us to indulge in you!
You are sweet or you are savory,
ever filling, ever full.
Fuel spring of the light of morning,
Energy start, jump the day.
You our energy, you start the day,
all who eat and drink are full;
Give us grace to love each other,
help us shine with grace divine!
It’s nearly two as the Reaper’s clock begins to strike.
A thundering clap shakes the trembling ground,
as death knolls beckon me into this thick, hazy night.
Coming to a clearing, I see ceremonial tables
carved with the darkest of symbols.
Jewel-encrusted cups—flowing freely with blood and whiskey—are placed amongst bones,
whilst monstrous funeral pyres loom over the uninvited.
Shadows flicker off the glint of boiling streams;
souls, trapped between conflicting realms,
bewitched by dancing with death, can’t quite grasp that it all has to come to an end.
A cacophony rises from the corpse choir,
growing louder and louder until my ears burst,
with blood pouring down my confused cheeks.
But why am I here?
I have no memory of crossing over;
I have not forsaken life—I swear my heart still beats beneath my breast.
Or does it?
I take my shaky hand and place it upon my chest,
whilst the dance with death amplifies around me.
Dizziness takes over; I can’t focus.
“Get a grip—breathe, feel for the heartbeat.”
There is nothing—just silence beneath my fingers.
Recollections come in and out of focus.
He came to me, after all the times I cried for him,
whispering sweet promises into my ear:
“No more pain, no more fear, just white noise.”
Plunge the knife in and take my hand,
dance the eternal dance.
Reality comes back into view;
my hands, now covered in sticky hemoglobin,
reach for a reaching palm as I sway endlessly
in complete, everlasting oblivion.
Our friend Margarita is a little different
She would often dream of a bearded face
What she says is gray but significant
In her very own version below I place
The contour in my dream is very familiar
But still I cannot recognize
In me he is the organizer
I love and admire his inspiring eyes
Often in my much loved dream
I see him as a Krishna
In his smile an irresistible gleam
Under the tree of banana
When I am in consonance
I feel a cerebral fiesta
But if I am in dissonance
Tempestuous is my vista
These dreams of flute and might
Reinforce my hemoglobin
Leading me from darkness to light
Making my psyche play a violin
Krishna in Radha a perfect blend
A stable amygdala to guide
Overflowing poetry at the bend
When you are by my side
_____________________________________________________
May 26, 2016
For Animus – Anima Part II – Animus – Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tom Quigley
Note: Radha and Krishna are collectively known within Hinduism as the combination of both the feminine as well as the masculine aspects of divinity. ( Wikipedia)
Yes, you came last night as I had wished
Normally reader, if you are after it that you desire
Your soul by hook or by crook is going to be the complier
When dear reader, you are lost into nothingness adrift and keep up as such
Be sure what you wished, a part of your mind would, insist on piecing it together.
So, exactly so it happened with me
It was a charming moonlight flooding outside
To my great delight a flower of that soft radiance I saw seated
In my chair in front of my computer table with the room in rhythmic dance
And then the flower shaping into a slim human figure looking a woman in trance
I felt a mild tremor within my anatomy
There were micro waves inside my hemoglobin
It was not the perfumed woman I had been daydreaming
Then came people walking along with the now familiar figure moving leisurely
Very affectionate peaceful slender composed friendly arisen from the moonlight
Initially I felt confused with the easy gait
A soft and serene smile with a little bit of frivolity
The head half-covered with a veil of soft and silky drape, that is, Shari
Sort of gesturing with her beautiful eyes asking me to come close to her side
Then confusion gave way to the joy of a child looking at his mother wide-eyed
I felt exceedingly happy and kept looking at my mom
I felt the hugs the scolding the tears the smiles and the flavours
I wanted to rush towards her and to hug her tight as I did when a child
But the film faded fast as the world was coming back with its dawning sounds mild
I thanked the ruler replacing the desired woman with my mom in the colored void
Amazed I could not settle for a while in the day thanks to the great Sigmund Freud
In the dirty hands of poverty,
Scavengers of the Republic of Enlightenment
Quench their thirst under the eyelids of the proletarians.
A sinecure of hard drugs
To silence the lamentations of these birds of ill omen.
The crosses are upside down in the furnaces of hell;
Lucifer, the egregore of these bloodthirsty criminals,
Has no distinction against the sickles of the angel of death.
The Earth is allergic to love;
It is the war that invigorates all these hearts of stone.
I have hated justice since I waddled on the edge of the spiral precipice,
My attachment to dirty money, which is similar to a fanatic's devotion to spiritual beliefs.
Sleepless nights leafing through the black pages of my legal pedigree,
I love the silence of darkness, like the darkness of a sequestered coffin in a cemetery.
My reflexes are monetary and my passions are deadly.
I only have partners;
I'm not your brother, I'm lonely as death.
The mood of a Palestinian in the shoes of a Pharisee,
Suicidal like these Africans
Which cross the Sahara and the Mediterranean.
A Kalashnikov in the brain,
I proudly accept the darkness of my words.
I am angry like all these child soldiers from the cradle.
I fiercely adore freedom in the bowels of a France filled with fascists.
Negrophobes have the right to be angry;
After all, I'm just an ungrateful who always cheated.
I didn't come to assimilate,
Just amass without calculating before being expelled.
Flashes of macabre memories to erase my nightmares,
I'm starving, thirsty for hemoglobin like a vampire.
I have been walking on death row since I arrived on Earth;
For all my blasphemy, I will end up in flames.
A beggar has got bread from a door
The thread of survival
A slice of sky smiling on a pink petal
And for me
In the void, appears a boundless sea
And the bard is impatient
Till the buzz from his word-paint
Versifies the lyrically human moment
Poetry is fomented by arousal and associations
A graceful process of
Deconstruction and reconstruction
Of the dancing shadows
A concentrated illumination
Of your reality
With my lamps of desire and imagination
Wearing a shirt of rustling dry leaves
There stands
A story of weeping wounds
Shards of tears and trauma
In my nostril a human aroma
Shaping out fond filigree of emotion
Warm and cold
Stroke in the folds
And when you look intense
Craving the chocolate words of my pen
Provoking a tomato like glow
In my bone marrow
Instantly arrives the bird
And stirred is the light in the gem
A sure poem
Like the meandering river
In the falling leaves
In the painting brush of the sun and cloud
Silent as well as loud
Sit the metaphors
Waiting merrily to be caressed in a poem
Or else
To what end are they born?
Guitar of golden corn
And when an irresistible leaf
From your trembling window
Falls on my thirsty grass
Alphabets sparkle and spontaneously combine
In valentine
Boats from the river sail in
Into the passionate hemoglobin
Life is always ready
With stupendous recipes
For our poetry
Provided the quick chemistry is there
In profound red and sky blue
Between me and you
A crimson brew
____________________________________
21/01/2017
All that is not me has me down
I am beaten by all that should keep me
My nose in crackling wrinkle
Like dead toothpaste tube
I can’t see my knees
Eyes are deep in the sockets
The twist of neck kicks the heart hard
Hemoglobin is tough and cold like the
Mazera-Voi rail tracks abandoned by
The classy Jambo Kenya Deluxe
I need a life
A cozy labyrinth
Opening in to a boundless sea
My soul rebels land and its jungles
Noise avenues and beautiful malls
Have my heart full with video
I long for monotony
Of a cloudless heaven
Stretching with abandon
Without a single fold onto Riverside from
Kangemi, I need a flat face of the earth
So that I can see my torn toe nails
without tasking my shoulder blades
to injure flesh that is laden with sleep
I am down
Let me lie
with ashes at my feet
blue saliva cracks my lips
in a struggle to pay homage to tongue
the last man standing, in heydays
he proclaimed peace to mountains
with stones that changed shapes with seasons
the message of peace is better unheard than unheeded
now he lies here with me, just maybe, just maybe
in its rotations, the earth will become flat
I long to see the feet of preachers of peace
Their beautiful shoes make my sight hazy
Glossy shin has blinded the messenger
He knows not when it rains, waterproof wear
Cheats him of seasons
Will he ever know when to sow?
When all that is not him shoves a finger down his nose
The wind will let me know
Meanwhile I sleep till dawn is come
It came quiet as the night
Nothing you could fight
It drifted unnoticed in the air
More lethal than an angry bear
He didn't feel a breeze, he didn't feel a change
Nothing out of order, nothing struck him strange
It bound to his hemoglobin, 200 times as strong
His cells were suffocating, all systems going wrong.
They found him in my car, a snow drift behind
The got him out in time for the poison to unwind
I researched it, other compounds also creep in stealth
They may change the way you act, they may destroy your health.
A crime mob found this out, they can ambush, poison you
The motive might be foggy, the method leaves no clue
Just another thing to worry about these days
Bad things can happen, in so many new ways.
See, there are crimes you know were done
But with stealthy drugs in air, there is no smoking gun
We can rub the wrong guy the wrong way
then wonder why the joy fades out, and our life goes gray.
On all these battlefields, shrill howls,
Corpses riddled with rotting bullets,
Abandoned tanks on fire,
Under this black sky of mourning, where death makes its home.
Where love has vanished from all these hearts darkened by hatred and greed,
the henchmen of the furnaces of hell express and realize all their fantasies.
Torn by the cries, by the tears, by the torments of war,
I walk like all these soldiers lost in the darkness that inhabits humanity.
My uniform stained with innocent blood bears witness to the battles and the agony of all these victims,
My soul bears the scars of all these horrible wars.
The tears of the earth were drowned in the hot hemoglobin of all these bloody battles.
Peace no longer appeases these minds, frozen by jealousy, infamy, hypocrisy, deceit, slander, savagery, barbarity and tyranny.
My brothers in arms have all tasted the glory of the lights of ultimate sacrifice.
All these oceans of pain spread by human wickedness.
Have made my existence on this planet bland.
Under the weight of regrets, human beings prefer to wear masks,
To hide the horrors of their darkness from the shadow that stands in front of their mirror every day.
For centuries, cannons have sung dramatic symphonies, but peace remains a dream,
For millennia, the din of weapons has sowed terror.
But humanity continues to invent weapons of mass destruction.
Thanks to the darkness of earthly vanities, I face the punishments of my life like a brave man.