Long Illustrative Poems
Long Illustrative Poems. Below are the most popular long Illustrative by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Illustrative poems by poem length and keyword.
ILLUMINATED REFLECTIONS
allegorical
cogniscenti
vibrant
silhouetted
symbols
exudes
affection
in
picturesque
harmony
emerges
striking
perspectives
steeped
in
captivating
enchanting
shadow
prominent
illustrative
descriptive
hints
gestures
atmospheric
distractions
protude
entwine
unfolds
patterned
&sparkling
intricately
adorned
discarding
identity
trumpets
multiple
thoughts
celebrating
embracing
simultaneously
foreshortened
smiles
proffering
featured
textures
abounding
with
appointed
highlights
masquerading
ambitious
dramatic
perspectives
streaming
abundant
elaborate
elegant
colourful
exquisite
elements
#Pass_me_the_mic
Pass me the mic, my left ear itches, there's an ink transiting. Clear the podium, I speak in reverberations, hope the far too catches the frequency, lick my libs, this can't walk on dry grounds, clears my throat a rumble for a worthy art, I speak in codes, artistic codes.
Lend me the ear, maybe the heart too, if I had paint and brush in my hand I would be more illustrative, for the art savvy too, the aim is to reach and touch all human senses, to be listened and be heard, maybe understood too. To be seen and noticed, to be felt, and most, to matter
Wanna feast my hand high like politicians but I'm not here to serve promises but art, wanna speak to that tattered hope, those rubles of hope, maybe like biblical Ezekiel breath life into those dry bones and pour back life, into hearts emptied by life conundrums, maybe ignite light into lives of those caught in dungeons of darkness, maybe pour waters of hope on those with burning souls
Get closer, my whispering carries load too, maybe I should address the past, fix the present and secure tomorrow, with this ink in my veins, I rewrite scriptures, convert death certificates into birth certificates, elevates rejection to access
I speak for the shattered, for those in dismay, for the defeated, for the vulnerable and those in void, ones in distraught, ones in dilapitated stages of life, ones on a one way lane to self destruction, I hold the faded, the weakling, the ones life have savaged beyond repair, in this ink a hand stretches here and afar, breaking walls and bondages, building bridges
I'm loosing my grip on the mic, my hand trembles, the ink wanna flood these floors, for every being to go back home with a mark, a poetic ink mark, for every house could do with such an ink, I drop the mic...
#Poetic_Ink
IDEAS
an
applied sense
of the literate
conceptions
undevalued
gratituous
but
honourable
in
curious phenomena
change places
a mark
of verse
fluctuating rhythm.
gyrating
emotions
so irregular
of
no consequence
incoherently
emerge
so freelyASSUMPTIONS
subtle &
many
illustrative
observations
in
layered
settings
on many
levels
amplified
foibles
in
an absurdity
of
unlikely flights
of
imaginative
action
so plausible
&
authorial
in
tone
from
ingenious
angles
recognised
or imagined
setting
to
&
create
restoration
to
illustrate
The ever clever, talented Beatrix Potter was interested in everything
She self-published The Tale of Peter Rabbit; it was met with a zing.
Her scientific interest led us to understand germination of fungus spores
Her journals written in code, deciphered by an engineer, Mr. Dores.
Beatrix was the first person to put clothes on animals in her books.
Until this time, they were much more natural in their illustrative looks.
One of her biggest fans was a young lad named Ronald Dahl.
She encouraged him to write. His books are enormous, world-tall.
Beatrix had Peter Rabbit and Squirrel Nutkin, both of them tales.
Ronald Dahl penned Charlie and the Chocolate Factory near Wales.
They are both vibrant reminders that writers can become immortal.
As I read some of their books like Matilda, I drool and I chortle.
My sworn enemy elect, is the constant profusion of illustrative choice,
even though it bestowed to me this shrewd strident voice,
I have unfeigned gratitude aplenty for opulent options but still,
with itemised information excessive without curb I’m ill,
one can sift through a menagerie of bewitching pros and cons,
skewed point of reflection, adopted pose, other folk dons,
diverse argument galore or hairsplitting please beware,
arch devilish trap covert, that sprung sneaky snare, surplus fact monoliths depending on an ultimate decision, shun bogus trendsetting at once with sheer derision, to be visibly cognizant as transparent courses of action, quite vast indeed and mammoth not a minute fraction,
when I commit to redeem there is an element of risk, but unwarranted deferral frowned on, one must be brisk, in the absolute recess of my mind is this constant pressure, to battle with surplus plethora, items novel and fresher,
with such package, pitch, display, slogans and colour,
choice might emerge to boost mood then banish dolour, broad scope “they” unleash, a nod to the downright plausible, the chocolate de luxe editions are they tangibly laudable, it is not for me to magnify an apparent risible matter, pettifogging, quibbling, nitpicking, pointless chatter,
I must insist on venting as a means to a clear path ahead,
yes, to coexist with at many levels trivial confusion instead,
excess products can be such a grandiose glossy term,
whose prevalence a nuisance that makes one often squirm,
but one can perhaps reframe and reconsider a resolute intention,
with the utmost alacrity in the context of apprehension,
drawing up a permanent peace treaty to empower a cessation,
with this fierce opponent choice as permanent extrication
I am the wind
the textured curl of clouds
those specks of glitter
silver and gold are my
illustrative gleams
the foiling wings
that flutter and flap
feathers ripe with color
complementing all rosy hills
a rolling kiss a splash of
blush a dash of spicy dish
the pepper and the salt
of a morning's stirring serving
see me in the meadows
there where wildflowers overflowing
bees and butterflies how they gaily
bob take lick like little children
at the serving tops of apples candied
making funny faces where those more
tart chasing rainbow tails the
fond remnants of showers
I made this day for you
now do me honor
save some acres from your cities
and roads
one or two at the least
as I keep sacred
your plot through the heavens
Nope! I haint gonna crack'n on the heat... just yet
until the cowed chickens come home to roost!
Sunlight streaming thru window
body electric of mine doth whet
begets hardiness to acclimate
against PECO shut off threat
ideal opportunity to spouse
analogous to her being my emotional pet
snuggling while standing in kitchenette
but accidental twerking
can guarantee yours truly
(me) being recipient of epithet.
I bundle up to stay warm
inside my cold man cave
particularly as average outside temperature
for November twentieth
two thousand and twenty three
hovers between high and low
fifty degrees fahrenheit
nearly brisk enough to see my breath.
I and/or the imaginary paramour
take our separate showers
during warmest hours of the day
less optimal to engage
in neighborly horseplay,
but more ideal for mistress (ha)
to pad around the unit donning her lingerie,
which nonverbally signals
(and greenlights)
more than voluminous words,
hence, I seal lips of mine
despite sudden aroused frisky urge
to burble exhibiting
debauched casanova behavior
accompanied courtesy illustrative
of suave debonair popinjay
rerouting spontaneous seduction today
indicative of throbbing
bulbous anatomical appurtenance,
which protrusion nullifies necessity of x-ray
to identify sudden
source of vasocongestion.
During daylight hours fresh air
arbitrarily, humorously, and noiselessly
streams and wafts
thru screened windows
ushering invisible scents
and audible sounds
of the webbed wide world here,
in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
our neck of the woods
since seventeenth year
after second century Anno Domini.
Civilizations since time immemorial
revered fiery celestial ball
establishing their respective mythology
which scheme attempted to explain
divine thermonuclear processes
sustaining the nearest star,
which Sol Invictus did enthrall
housing an astronomical object
comprising a luminous spheroid of plasma
held together by self-gravity
within the heavenly vault
divine creator didst install
which supposed movement
in the sheltering sky
signified daytime and nightfall
linkedin with planet earth
a veritable, observable, honorable,
and admirable terrestrial tetherball.
What is the big deal difference
between universal wholeness
and interdependent HereNow fragmentation?
How are they combined
to make one Left/Right
Ego/EcoHabitat
bilateral identified whole?
In an organic system,
a mindbody, for illustrative purposes,
perhaps a mature branched-out tree trunk
supported by a subterranean root feeding network,
whether ecosystemic outside
or egosystemic inside,
separating WinWin cooperative organs
leads to expectations of natural/spiritual dividing death,
abandoning each neglected interdependent part
to stand and fall nakedly Lose/Lose alone,
Positive mutual trusted default Virility,
Resilience hijacked by LeftBrain dominant
Either Win Or Lose bipolar
fundamentally autonomous claustrophobic terror,
morbidity.
Development of cooperating
competing labels
for language interdependent with co-relational experience
studies healthy WinWin organic communal communicating ways
Noting LeftBrain developed deductive dominating capacity
to tear away interdependent transubstantiating pieces
of universal creolizing ionizing wholes
While also inductively RightBrain remembering
how we originally worked and played
cooperatively
holistically combined together.
I want to dance time backward
to sing our larger CreationStory multiculturing view.
Wholeness is a polypathic health goal
Interdependence is a polyphonic wealth outcome--
resilience with resonance
An EarthTribe ubiquitously democratic Place
we can sacredly return to
with Left deductive YangEgo
and Right inductive YinEcoRelational
reawakening Prime ZeroZone win/win
within multiculturing health/wealth polypathic us.
WinWin personal and political history
slowly unfolds, refolds, prefolds, folds
before our revolutioning newborn eyes
as we expand our DNA family organic vision
to see matriarchal cooperative universal ZeroZones
Global composed of interdependent health care Local
Wealth previews, reviews, unviews,
double-binding Ego/Eco Creation Stories.
Perhaps the primal difference
between LeftBrain Universalists
and RightBrain Unitarianists
is this difference
Between which one hand is clapping
Which one foot is dancing
Which one integral voice is cooperatively co-passioned
co-arising
SecularHere with Sacred MultiCultural-MultiGenerational Now.
His Living Poem
I am a simple man,
loquacious words I have not.
The few illustrative words I possess
I recently learned or already forgot.
Authored by those more educated,
are the poems I read before.
Frost, Yeats, Whitman, Longfellow,
Poe, Dickenson, Vance Cooke, and more.
Even you, my sophisticated friends,
possess the gifts I dearly desire.
Within you lies countless treasures,
that sparkle when read by a lamp or a searing fire.
What gift in me I can draw on you for a smile or tear?
What, in my limited capacity, can I impart to you?
And what have I acquired, would you want to bear?
There is none, from what I can find, or view.
That you've read this far, none have come before.
Surely countless have already left,
as a dull wit I be, and to others just a bore.
The only observation I can find,
that would allow me to be of a facility,
is His living poem... a simple rhyme...
is what God hath made in me.
And through His faith,
He trusts in me... His very simple rhyme,
to read the poems penned by you,
a gift from Him to you,
expressions so sublime.
by Martin Braun
July 30,2023
The logical possibility to jump over the moon,
make sense when considered its cheese eaten with a spoon.
The same cheese became famous by Mozart composing Cinderella,
melted in on bread called Mozzarella.
The milks fat has its meaning by matter of form,
as one can pull it gently in its use to be torn.
The essence of man by Plato is conceptual confusion,
Aristotle’s answer was the rational animal conclusion.
The death is one of two things and metaphysical,
hypothetic nature in grammarless forms of being radical.
Abstract concepts to the point of phrase,
indefinable logic to stay confused in philosophical pace.
Nothing divided by nothing to multiply the zero,
trading and selling golden mirrors portraying the hero.
The hypnotic ability of linear verbal communication,
overwritten melodrama and its cultured sensation.
Caffeine clicking clocks in commercial wars,
to safe the astounding audience aspiration from taws.
Intensified intuitive balloons matching the color of the eye,
illustrative animated slices with the cherry on top pie.
Vulnerable velocity by vanity loosing lips largely,
absurdity with distinction established ambiguity fiercely.
Falsity and truth before sense and nonsense,
thinking one knows what is not known in essence.
Philosophical poetry may be with or without rhyme,
but it is never without reasons of confession in time.