Long Incense Poems
Long Incense Poems. Below are the most popular long Incense by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Incense poems by poem length and keyword.
Oh dreamy lass of fragrant wiles,
a parasol of white unfurled..
your bloom beguiles her moonlight miles,
a mirror pale in petals whorled.
Her face in phases does allure
and casts enchantment not demure,
yet bud’s flirtation just as sure;
a flower-moon on long stem’s dance
with wind in sweep and sway romance,
vanilla toffee scent does prance
beyond the buxom moon all smiles
as incense wafts from airstream’s world
and paramours does damsel lure —
enkindled moths in nectar trance.
Susan Ashley
February 18, 2023
(Fragmented Rhyme)
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Fragmented Rhyme
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Rhymes confirmed with: rhymezone.com
Syllables (8 per line) confirmed with: howmanysyllables.com
Rhyme Scheme: A B A B C C C D D D A B C D
You are a flame licking me, aflame
with crimson fire of desire,
and crimson-crackly is the air tonight
alight and bright as the candle
that burns like our passion
but fades in the soot-stench of dawn...
embers grown cold, the incense of morning
making no sense, and left bleak inside
with a grey hollow mourning.
Ashes in the grate
grate on tenebrous threads of fate.
You are a thought brushing me, wisps
of winter snowflake-soft,
and white-blinding is the light
alight and bright as the candle
of love that slowly burned out...
fading like melting snow on the garden,
light sifting and churning,
the grey urn of morning
holding ashes of mourning.
she gave so much that her tank was running on empty
money worldly possession advice love and heart blood
clothed and fed the homeless
a kind word and a few coins
to every poor beggar in sight on the long windy road
of social mobility going the wrong way towards loss
selfless she stumbled upon utter
misery devastation and destitution
surely some of the tramps would buy smokes and booze
in search for mind-numbing solace from their vile plight
who is to judge unless they marched
in somebody else’s shoes or barefoot
the neighbours chuckled she looks like one of the vagrants
and they resembled each other when the days drew to a close
nightmares filled her aspirations and dreams
but she lit candles and incense in firm prayer
one rainy freezing midnight one of her down and out drifters
set himself alight at the local petrol station in search of the light
inflamed her sorrow and the stench of hot fumes
rekindled her blazing desire to proffer even more
‘it’s my fault alone I should have invited him into my home’
but every nook and cranny had already been filled with bodies
and her pantry was empty with power for the fridge disconnected
she had sold the furniture except for mattresses a long time ago
‘should have slept on the street myself and not him´ but
does hindsight matter when blindness stole present vision
eventually the fuel pipe broke under pressure of emptiness
she would call it angel gas supplied by God’s given grace
a true people pleaser with
no charger anywhere near
the gas oven loomed as she searched for a rope in the wood wormed
attic that had infested her strong resolve and last bit of compassion
she was ready to give up and dangle in bliss
from rafters of seemingly senseless kindness
but Karma would not take her weary bones and exhausted mind
when a barely clothed women cuddled her in a smelly embrace
a toothless smile brought back her own kindness
too much decay to change her heavenly abode
23rd September 2020
Givers Contest
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
October 24 Scripture Meditations Based on Acts 17-20
Key Verse – Acts 18:10 For I am with thee, and no man shall set on thee to hurt thee: for I have much people in this city.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME YOUR “I AM WITH THEE"
Thank You for telling me Your “I am with thee” assurance
Along Your timely deliverance
To uphold me from doubtful endurance
For my faith to overcome vexing ignorance.
Thank You for telling me Your “I am with thee” presence
Along Your fellowship-intimacy incense
To surround me with serene essence
For my heart to enjoy joyous worship of conscience.
Thank You for telling me Your “I am with thee” security
Along Your protective authority
To guard me against deceitful tenacity
For my soul to vanquish frightening anxiety.
Thank You for telling me Your “I am with thee” closeness
Along Your gentle graciousness
To accompany me toward ministry-services’ effectiveness
For my sacrifices to produce laborious fruitfulness.
Thank You for telling me Your “I am with thee” commitment
Along Your divine involvement
To strengthen me for godly fulfillment
For my devotion to show loving engagement.
Thank You for telling me Your “I am with thee” affirmation
Along Your eternal salvation
To guide me in soul-winning determination
For my spirit to delight in life-giving redemption.
Thank You for telling me Your “I am with thee” approval
Along Your earnest revival
To encourage me during frustration’s interval
For my commitment to triumph beyond character-building survival.
October 24, 2022
Night falls and the mirror moon illumes the
heavenly starry skies with gleaming ivory beams.
Shiny and mellow, a splendrous silver orb,
the delight of the night sky!
It is the evening of the 15th, and the cool air is fair,
filled with chirping crickets and reason for revelry.
Kinfolk gather to rejoice within the warmth of their hearth,
toasting with mulled wine ; munching moon cakes!
But today is also sacred and solemn, and offerings
must be made to Heaven and Earth. Thus, scented
sandalwood incense are lit ; apricots and pomelos are placed
upon lacquer plates before the plaques of divine gods,
and dear ancestors.
Away from laughter and lanterns, besides a quiet lake,
and under a lofty peak, sits a sagacious couple. She smiles
and plays the guqin, sending with each skillful stroke,
soft and serene sounds that grace the ethereal night's air.
As for him, he stands pleased under the pavilion, inhaling
the sweet scents of blooming peach blossoms, and admiring
the moon as it rose and the beauty of his wife before the
bright shimmer of moonlight.
Content, he recites a poem:
“The moon is luminous,
Heaven is harmonious,
Autumn has come,
And Summer is gone,
I toast my cassia wine,
To a harvest most fine!”
All rights released into Public Domain
When the summer breeze comes along my way,
It freshens me up and makes me to sway,
Gently, I feel like dancing and swinging,
Soft, this summer breeze makes me go singing...
Chorus:
Summer breeze, gentle breeze,
All my languishing flees,
Summer breeze, gentle breeze,
Brings me joy, brings me peace.
When the summer breeze blows its cool incense,
It lightens me up and calms every sense,
Children around me feeling a tingling,
With summer comes the ice cream man jingling...
Chorus:
Summer breeze, gentle breeze,
All my languishing flees,
Summer breeze, gentle breeze,
Brings me joy, brings me peace.
Bridge:
Feel the whistling summer breeze
Rustling through the verdant leaves,
Feel the breeze gently singing
Summer's here - good news bringing...
Chorus:
Summer breeze, gentle breeze,
All my languishing flees,
Summer breeze, gentle breeze,
Brings me joy, brings me peace.
Our dinner, boiled to death root vegetables, we swallow in silence as night closes-in on the school. The co-opted Buddhist monastery housing us empties its porcelain thrones into the walled garden’s weedy rear yard. Village women wash: the floors, the pots, the laundry from first light to deep dark. The water runs downhill. War does not stop the drudgery. Where the women sleep is unknown to us. The owners’ are small men; they rule the house with a heavy hand. They teach the techniques of shamanic healing and Thai Massage.
the Green Tara
hangs upon the room's wall:
geraniums on the ledge
The drowse of Friday evening evaporates in a burst of gunfire. Behind the high walls surrounding the school, the sounds of violence escalate. Through open, screen-less, windows sirens sound, the sky lights up and red, yellow, blue, and white prayer flags hang lifelessly from the eaves to the locked gate. Sleep hides, as I do, beneath the covers.
coiled
insecticide smolders:
temple bells sound
The monks, long gone, leave remnants of themselves on the incense coated plaster. Peace sought here was not found. Poverty necessitated the building’s sale. Here on a side street in walking distance from the American embassy, a school for westerner’s storm cellars. The desire to learn Eastern Healing techniques and a common language, English, binds us together: American, French, Spanish, and South African captures of the internet, pilgrims. We come, healers all, undaunted by the Civil War, to Kathmandu, Nepal.
Monday, the riots end on cue. Tourists, again, meander the dust clouded streets, skirting the alley’s begging children. Tea is served in the burgeoning shops. Butchers swat flies from hanging haunches of meat, rare bird vendors walk the street with baskets of exotic birds. And, brazen Westerners stride bare armed, sari-less exposed, and rude, at least until next Friday night—they own the world.
First Published by Mulberry Fork 2016
I have an aura of a purple ambience. . .
a woebegone . . . forlorn essence and perfume
my painful past is a heavy dark cloak
I am subdued and solitary
memories haunt
my days and nights
my brooding nimbus is who I am and
I accept this cloud of sadness that is me
it surrounds me like a vapor
like a vampire who thirsts for blood
I thirst for my grief and for all those I loved
so I never forget what love is
and that I was truly loved by many once
upon a time
sometimes the vapor of sadness that surrounds me
is like a hued purple gauzy cloud quite beautiful
others have seen it and remarked and I have seen it too
you may think me a lonely and unhappy girl
but I am not really though admit I am quite moody
I tend to brood, and ponder too much
getting hurt easily is my history
but it is the incense of my character
I thirst for silence like a need
oh, without this brooding feeling could I write . . . poetry
for to write . . . I must reach deep into the darkness
deep into my soul . . . for the words
Almost Perfection, we two fit together
Bound in the incense of love and desire
Called by a song of eternal attraction
Dancing its way through our being;
Eager for everything, we dream it to life.
Fire and ice through the passage of days
Grief and delight shared together
Half light, half darkness
Interweave in life's flow,
Joining and kindling the mysteries of love.
Kind seeks out kind
Love conquers lust
Man and Woman become something
Numinous; a third sort of being,
Ontologically supreme.
Potentialities vie with realities,
Quixotic schemes founder
Resisted in the mire of daily
Situations that pull them to earth;
Tempestuous love strives to ascend.
Under the sun of our expectations
Verity sometimes gropes blindly in its glare.
We seek the perfection of what we are,
Xenophobic in our sharp self-focus,
Yet still in need of those others who love us.
Zealots are we all, drunk on the common draught of passion.
12/4/2023
Hypnotic snow peaks, transformed into shades of zirconium.
sparkling green.
Thou art truly, an existential,Yuletide,eternally kissable,love machine!
You made the gods of Eros, come alive within these throbbing
poetic veins, boil and joyfully return.
You awakened your sleeping princess-poet’s crimson,sensuality,
truly …..with your sensual,incense burn.
Reborn. I am, with affection of your sparkling snowflakes of again
earthshaking masculinity.
This glorious Christmas of joy, to rejoice,in my own femininity!