Long Icily Poems
Long Icily Poems. Below are the most popular long Icily by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Icily poems by poem length and keyword.
The one who controls the wind
As a cushion for her feet
Drifted the dead dry leaves
Before her on the street
Playfully lifted
A lock of her hair
Caressed her cheek
With tender care
Helped her along with
A following breeze
Sang her a song through
Rustling boughed trees
Escorted her unseen to
Her Lover’s embrace
Then silently turned
To leave that place
Turned to face the wide sea
And with a despairing wail
Whipped up that ocean
With a tempestuous gale
Worked out his rage
With one last desparate cry
Culminating with one
Last accepting sigh
Lashed the waves
Against the shore
The let peace
Reign once more
Never looked for her again
Just breathed one icy breeze
Causing the town one
Early unseasonal freeze
Causing she and her lover
To snuggle up in a tight embrace
As his goodbye breath icily
Kissed cool her face
Then the one who controls the wind
That lovelorn one
Resolutly turned its back
And silently moved on.
Agape brain, there is a deep abyss, dull and endless.
But, I'm falling, acquiring whatever may be blessedness.
Conversely, there is only a void, and I am doomed.
Daily life's pull resembles a tornado baiting my wound.
Even though there is no sound, I am ill-suited to scream.
Feel no insight to view and discern nothing how to deem.
Geared on a rugged edge, gazing down into despair.
Hence, it occurred; it concealed my hopes; the grave is drear.
Icily stare at a bettor way of never-ending sadness.
Joined arms reaching blurring light in a dying awareness.
Keep Plunge pale pungent earthquake whirlwind.
Lower your prospering limbs into the swaying water bind.
Masterpiece danced through the corridors alike a butterfly.
Nettle-picking and stone-pounding on a blustery pathway
Obscured in the shadows, the gold gust lines are blurring.
Prepared for shivering haggles and raging lightning.
Quiet sound of trees swinging and branches underneath.
Rebuke mayhem would not include a flower wreath.
Sailing on foamy waves, under wrapping arm of windless.
Through the sand, grains climb a hole of nothingness.
Underneath, a dark opening has dove into the obscurity.
Vituperations venoms are heaped by shadow melancholy.
When the nightfall bar sparkles with a silver shine.
Xylene's pit dubs me currently, similar to alarm's whine.
Yield not too eerie dangers concealed in evil dream trend.
Zone time limit point of life warns I am drawn to my end.
Written: December 07, 2021
''A'' Forms, New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
ABSTRACT
bewitched
astonishment
beyond
belief
unassailable
impenetrable
intense
visionary
elaborate
iconography
explicated
icily
smooth
SETTINGS
spiralling
in situ
eliciting
sensation
dazzling
overarching
narrative
of
aesthetic
ornamentation
suspended
in
reflective
auras
of
tender
gaze
FEELINGS
emotional
intensity
emphasised
attributes
in
passionate
response
of
explicit
immediacy
enduring
sans
explanation
Pale brimstone
emerge
on days windblown
hover
flower to flower
ducking Spring's sudden shower
Common butterflies so blue
each season
two
generations new
small heath marbled white
& speckled brown
so slow in flight
Winter's caterpillars
green & small
fragile miracles
to enthrall
No breeze tonight
trees pose
statuesque
flowers icily still
time slows
to a stop
Grasses stand
to attention's call
thought holds on pause
air has
that feel of fall
Once,summer green
then autumn gold
bedecked the ancient trees
now in silhouette
laid bare
mistletoed
in winter frieze
flurries of snow
fine & dry
on its branches lie
white stars scurry & shift
in piles
of patterned drifts
Judge me gently, as I am still a fledgling.
I avoid the pompous, gaudy and bling.
Swiftly simple suffice setting styles.
Abandoning artists amorous aisles.
Fingertips searching for contrite meaning.
Mind from one side to the other leaning.
Bringing forward a paradox of words.
Flowing and forming in flocks and herds.
Wistfully winding with wanderlust wending,
Beguiling bounty beyond beauty blending.
Meanings meander, melding misty metaphors.
Liquid amber, sweet honey seeping from pores
Innuendo intrigues, interest icily intended.
Read and reread and dutifully amended.
Bringing heights of pleasure yet forlorn.
Seeking perfection, my poem is born.
The night wind was icily cold.
No herons or olive tree warblers flew,
Only hooded black ravens,
preying on the souls of lost men.
More red-pinkish flowers
dropped from the tree,
leaving the branches bare
until in a few days
the green leaves will sprout,
and the tree will remain flowerless,
an ugly sight, shunned by all.
Suddenly the wind dropped.
He felt despair, sullen and dejected.
Soon no one heard of him anymore.
Some say he hanged himself
upon the very tree that sheds its flora,
Others believed he fell on a stump
that pierced his bowels as he lived
a recluse amongst an unknown tribe.
Others made him their hero
just for the sake of being different.
But he was seen no more.
The icy night wind blew,
the Judas tree shed its odorless flowers,
as true lovers escaped to scented bowers.
Pale brimstone
emerge on days windblown
hover flower to flower
ducking Spring's sudden shower;
Common butterflies so blue
each season,two generations new,
small heath,argus,marbled white
and speckled brown,so slow in flight;
Winter's caterpillars green and small
fragile miracles,to enthrall.
Once,summer green
Then,autumn gold
Bedecked the ancient tree-
Now,in silhouette,laid bare
Mistletoed in winter frieze;
Flurries of snow,fine & dry
On its branches lie
White stars,scurry and shift
In piles of patterned drifts.
No breeze tonight
Trees pose statuesque
Flowers icily still
Time slows to a stop
Grasses stand to attention's call
Thought holds on pause
Air has that feel of fall
Listen to me read these poems on youtube under name ichthyschiro
The one who controls the wind.
As a cushion for her feet
Drifted the dead dry leaves
Before her on the street,
Playfully lifted
A lock of her hair,
Caressed her cheek
With tender care,
Helped her along with
A following breeze,
Sang her a song through
Rustling boughed trees,
Escorted her unseen to
Her Lover’s embrace
Then silently turned
To leave that place.
Turned to face the wide sea
And with a despairing wail
Whipped up that ocean
With a tempestuous gale,
Worked out his rage
With one last desparate cry
Culminating with one
Last accepting sigh,
Lashed the waves
Against the shore
Then let peace
Reign once more.
Never looked for her again
Just breathed one icy breeze
Causing the town one
Early unseasonal freeze,
Causing she and her lover
To snuggle up in a tight embrace
As his goodbye breath icily
Kissed cool her face,
Then the one who controls the wind
That lovelorn one
Resolutly turned its back
And silently moved on.
Ghostly frail figure,
that I am now,
neath nebulous moon,
where I shed tears,
on brambled verge,
as thin bones quake,
emaciated earthly being,
whose nocturnal solace,
bereft of suave signage,
with a deathly sickness,
icily immune to healing,
taut threadbare skeletons,
prone to clinical diagnosis,
never fugitive in closet,
nor courtroom strict sanction,
cordoned off camera setting,
where splurge of guilty scruple,
in atonement an utter ruse,
yet musings mercurial lurk,
as the net of darkness threatens,
indignant isolate me stranded,
whilst casting mirrorlike,
reflections shed under veil,
of midnight mosaic,
on my mishap strewn life,
due to brittle bony,
fragmented awkwardness,
that wreaked wild havoc,
with long term intimate bonds,
commonly entailing excess,
swing by to overflowing wards,
I eschew self-pity, period,
so vain and vacuous,
alien and anathema,
barren rattle cerebral
sqeamish stream of,
inlaid tract,
rumination razor-sharp,
from emaciated mortal,
whose stealthy lurch,
is frame vulnerable,
torrid touchstone,
as skeleton key,
gaining ingress to,
stubborn locked doors,
syndrome blight,
hailed as,
lean skinny shell,
resignation rare,
stoic coexistence,
copper-fastens
Though sapient vision limps short,
And digs no eye into nirvana's fort;
Albeit most vivid dream’s flips stop,
Instinct excels where iffy triers flop.
And that sharper divining seer tells
Sweeter tales no deft lyricist's bells
Ever rung a one bereft of Love's ting,
Who jilts fine gold to hear a bird sing.
He needs no fumbling eye to behold
What yet lies beyond horizons’ fraud,
Nor flimsy ear's wit to sweetly divine
Blisses and nectarous lickings mine.
His are all-espying orbs steeled in hope;
Netting honeyed things before here pop
Tangible sights for showy ears and eyes
To grab and boast and stir belated sighs.
Known to him are times of lost rest
From lonely stints icily cold at best,
Thrills discerned many days before
They stir faint ears and eyes below.