Long Illuminated Poems
Long Illuminated Poems. Below are the most popular long Illuminated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Illuminated poems by poem length and keyword.
The cherry blossom over the Osaka River in Osaka city,
Keeps the castle overhead mesmerized in its beauty,
The pink and white blossom sparkle and shine on nice Spring Day,
Like the stars glowing from supernova in an explosive way.
The spring has heralded its arrival in a magnificent way,
The blossoms bend over to greet the sightseers in Japanese way,
Reflecting its beauty and majesty in the river,
The snow-covered mountains turning green in its wonder.
Cherry blossoms are so reflective and full of charms,
Romance and pleasure have been invoked forever in hearts,
The painting of woman in red and white kimonos picnicking in the park,
Blends the vision of the painter with nature’s most beautiful art.
In the nighttime, the castle is illuminated in nice colors in dark sky,
The cherry blossoms radiate their own heavenly charm in dark sky,
Songs of nightingale make her divine in moonlit night,
The onlookers hope that they would not lose such a beautiful sight.
Throngs of people view the beauty of blossoms, in sheer admiration,
So intricate, they can only be designed by God in heaven,
Butterflies drink its nectar,
Bees and hummingbirds spread its pollen to needy in nature.
On a spring rain, or a windy day, the blossoms depart,
They fall, leave the tree, signifying transience of good life,
The blossoms will be celebrated in dance and art,
I will wait till next spring, to see the cycle of rebirth in life.
Many Christmas stories are told every year,
and many songs are sung with pure cheer;
do I have a good story, at least one, I can tell,
or a simple song I can hum and spread good will?
When Lisa's grandmother passed away unexpectedly...
by her dying bed she kept an ivory music box,
and to her lovely granddaughter she gave it
to saying," Take care of it, and smile when you think of me!"
The day after granny died, she went down the dark cellar
to hide the ivory music box in an old dresser's drawer,
and once in a while she would open it and play it and listen to it sadly;
the pretty angel swirled...and Silent Night played as Lisa touched it tenderly.
It was almost Christmas Day and the pine tree wasn't decorated yet,
she rushed outside carrying a red basket with ornaments in it;
how could she had forgotten to adorn it with bulbs and garlands?
" Oh gosh, I feel like the Grinch!" she displeasingly uttered to herself.
There was no snow predicted for that evening and the illuminated town
was lacking Nature's magical snowflakes to make it festive and vibrant;
five minutes to midnight the choir from the nearest church gathered outside,
and waited for a miracle...silence...tranquility...every heart felt so alone.
But Lisa with an indomitable spirit ordered them to sing,
and they began singing looking up the clearest, starriest sky;
everyone seemed sad and some of them wanted to cry,
but before sadness set in...snowflakes began falling.
Lisa knew that it was the miracle she had been waiting for,
but something was missing from the snowy scenery...
she remembered her ivory music box she had put away,
and running, with awe in her bright eyes, she opened the cellar's door...
Clutched in her caring, careful hands, she carried the ivory music box,
laid it gently underneath the twinkling, scented Christmas Tree;
Lisa kissed it tenderly...until the golden angel started to swirl at midnight,
as that divine music filled the nippy air...making all cheeks so peachy.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
when Medusa feathers
of midnight fractals
dip in my soul
and smear
soft hemlock stardust
across the
celestial ceiling ~
smothered with spinel
my shadow seethes
in the scent
of flaming jasmines ~
as I slip
a n d trip ~
drunk upon opium,
cruising in
cursed ventricles,
and pleading
for the release
of my muse ~
perfumed with
pensive passion,
that burns in the
chamomile craters,
courageous
yet clawed
by the cowardice
of your corvid
cruelties …
this heart is a hostage
held in the heat
of hypocrisy ~
hypnotised to the hues
of your heather hush,
tamed to obey
the time-travelling tunes
of the sun and the moon,
who impersonate
the aura of aurelia
yet, breathe the blush
of bitter-silk butterflies ~
illuminated within
the ivory incandescence
of my inkless innocence …
but, still I am immune
to your illusions ,
as I am nevermore ~
an oasis-rose ash
plucked from the
desert of oblivion,
desperate to deem
this desire my own,
before I stretch
these hands of hurt
and block
the periwinkle
pulsations ~
flowing
in the arteries of
arrhythmic
attachment …
Things need to get straight
Somewhere there are pearly gates
Using goodness as bait
White and mystical
Healthy and physical
Then there is standing there in the street
A man filled with theatrical heat
Underneath the dark sky
Shifting through the stage reality lie
Illuminated by a lamp
Similar to the dock at the crystal lake camp
Reading casting ads
All seem tasteless and bad
Decided to go
To the one called ‘a picture show’
What was this?
Low budget biz?
“It could be an opera like the star-studded Tommy
Or G rated James Bond magical car where the kids can go with Mommy”
Said the marketing pro
Who was ‘in the know’
Displaying advice
Being nice
Claiming to be an expert
Side hustling selling his concert shirt
Rocky idea originally failed
Got out of jail
Finding bail
Came back
From critic’s attack
Going the distance
Having persistence
Never needed a sequel
To equal
The first one
Still is so much fun
Shown at midnight
Not really looking for a fright
Instead wanting partying might
Tonight, somewhere plays a band
In a garage or on the sand
They mimic a song
Tempting and wrong
About a bat who got out of hell
A story the lyrics did tell
As they turn into who they really are
Visiting friends hanging at the bar
Telling them soon they will spend what is in the tip jar
Observing from above
Wearing a heavenly usher’s glove
Now filled with love
An inexpensive piece of meat
Late hours add ketchup, it is a delightful treat
Enjoying bread and wine
Payment for his time
Realizing he really did shine
Down there
Taking the youthful sinful dare
Entertaining using character flair
For all to share
Until we all gather up there
Over meatloaf that is now gourmet
And to be frank ‘he did it his way’
I dreamed I was inside a bulb—
a cathedral of filament and glass—
not dead
not born…..
but shumming**.
Glass walls curved like time
sealed but translucent
my fingers curled around voltage
like a secret
God was transcending.
The socket hummed a lullaby
of static.
Every breath of mine made sparks
the air electric
with grief
and longing.
I saw myself outside the bulb
in a room wallpapered with eyes—
each iris twitching
like a seismograph.
They watched
as I shimmered like an angel
in a jar of fire
as if I were proof
of something
too holy
or too hideous
to name.
The room beyond
glistened with wallpapered surveillance—
each gaze a blink
each blink
a test of identity
a hymn of entropy
and wonder.
I touched the glass—
cool as frozen memory
thin as a promise—
and the world on the other side
shuddered
like a dream woken
too soon
My thoughts turned tungsten—
spiraled
stubborn
resisting
the spark of enlightenment
or extinction
I spoke
and the words bent back
like boomerangs
buzzing
with static regret
A child approached
barefoot
real
impossibly tender…..
She looked like someone
I might have loved
if time had taken pity.
She placed her palm on the bulb—
her skin against my sorrow
the warmth of it
startling
as mercy
a forgiveness.
“Why are you in there?”
she asked
or perhaps
thought—
her voice the color
of candlelight.
I tried to answer
but my vocal cords was hardwired
my tongue
a fuse
My words came back
distorted
looped
charred
as if language
were combustible.
For a moment
I flickered
between purpose
and obliteration
Then
the ceiling cracked open
like a wound
and light poured down—
not to reveal
like revelation
like judgment—
to burn away
the questions
And I understood—
not everything illuminated
is meant to be seen
not all vision
is freedom…..
Some truths
are meant to flicker
fragile and holy
inside the bulb of the soul
unspoken
unchosen
alive.
================
**Shumming: Shimmering Humming
The wind did blow the ground
shook the sky opened grace
removing all doubt as my mere
flesh unaged unharmed asencends
into the midst with him my mind
opened relieving all tampered
thought confusion and fear malice
removed compassion created
a personal gratification of solitude
while my hearts on fire I desire
only him his presence surrounds
me the sound of trumpets and
harp strings captured solace
in a trance essence illuminated
fragrances abode the sun shined
beneath my feet in a distant glare
bright brilliant heavenly hues
opened the gates as I am calmly
seated at the table of plenty
darkness vanishes within the
alurring abyss night is no more
One we were tiny babies
resembling infant Jesus;
Mary's graceful smile illuminated
his joyful face that angels adored!
And this heavenly child wrapped
in humble linens was prophesized
to be a supreme king over people and nations;
Erode feared Him from birth: he killed all babies!
Love these tiny babies
resembling infant Jesus;
cuddle them, admire their innocence:
they're the sight of pure blissfulness!
Many are loved by mothers with a gentle tone,
others are cruelly abandoned on church's steps
to become those orphans crying alone:
find then a home, spare them loneliness!
O’ Pat Pattison, you, my brilliant teacher,
I would shower in praises, had you not
taught me better! for cliches void of thought
are as worthwhile as a couch surfin’ moocher!
O’ masterful and deepest sort of creature,
shocked then, in the thrall of churning wounds, distraught
I found your grace—and for my breaking clot
you gave me poetry, this soothing suture.
Trochees and iambs, blank verse, Shakespear’s form—
you illuminated a path obscure
to my sight. The subtle rhythms and rhymes
you used as guideposts through a ruthless storm
are now the tools that fix me fast,—secure.
I’d take your class again a million times.
Looking up at the sky, up in the air so high
Moving like a bird, time fiercely passing by.
You and I together, at each others side
Waiting for a full moon, until the highest tide.
To you my dearest, my true love for you is so
Love only for my angel, I love you more than you know.
I want to be with you so much, I'll risk anything for you
For you are my only true angel, this I tell you is true.
Through the intertwining touch, of our interlocking hands
Our life together just began, our future which expands.
For my someone special, the person I can not live without
Shall I lose my angel of god, my life as is shan't go about.
I tip my hat off, to you I call my dearest
You are my angel, I see that as the clearest.
For you are my treasure, the one I hold so dear
To you I must admit, we're together now and here.
Our love is like a sapling, growing into the strongest tree
Which will continue growing forever, the same as you and me.
What you unconditionally have done, you've illuminated my soul
It's you and your true compassion, that has recreated me whole.
Shall I say to my angel, that you are through and through
I hope that some day, your angel in me will be shown to you.
My wish upon a wish, you and i always together
Descending from the sky, like a pure angel's falling feather.
Form:
So proud of our lives
the way we have handled ourselves
sometimes in the face of rejection
that will
only abbreviate our lives
We have stood strong
walked the talk and survived the daily rigors what life throws at us
even from awkward corners
tossed to us
do we spring back like a coiled serpent
to shed another skin
We know one day we will rest
we know that day will surely come
and the sky will lose it's stars
as they emerge illuminated in our eyes
drawing a line across what has been
and what will be.
I am urging those of kindred spirit
to value life that has been so graciously given to you
and treasure it's moments
like a multi faceted jewel
that reflects prisms
that act as an allegory to our lives.