Long Ingots Poems
Long Ingots Poems. Below are the most popular long Ingots by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ingots poems by poem length and keyword.
pulchritudinous ingots chisel and shades
dazzle and illuminate umpteen reasons
poetry is like a swirling, susurrus-sibilant chimera
of innuendo arty souls, albeit vapid syntax
around serene scenery, orbs, and idealism
Is unction vital to adorn naked words with plumose wings?
whose views of contentment, vim, and happiness?
Inversely hamstringing people with arrows?
sighs of sorrow sound sowed soil
mothers, wailing and yelling out to unborn spirits
as our hearts crave affection
poetry provides its verisimilitude vacuum
do susurrus coruscating suborn scarlet spills?
deep within a stymie pirouette
the tortured sinews of a troubled mind are twisting
my life bill was still due till my final breath
I bequeath you my spirit as expressed in sonnets
I bequeath you my marrow, wrapped in iambic style
I bequeath you my mind, crafted with mispronunciation
sharing with those who owe me a xanthous soul
Written: June 09, 2024 For Ink Empress Contest
“a mute tongue is a slave to silence” - Silent One
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let his eyes, his hug, and his grasp
convey what his mouth fears to say
His mother keeps an eye on her kid
In his first winter, he caught a lot of sun —
and watched the dust and air
Getting to the crib by horseback
Silence —
Through the susurrus sound stream
coruscating crimson spills subdue
whilst words whipped wassail
deep within a stymie pirouette
speaking in scarce slave silence
twisting mental sinews —
wrestle within a tight wooden link
In the recesses of a soft tongue
There is silence and no vitality
spewed utterances induce shame
letting souls bleed silently
Then, fear and doubt percolate.
Silence —
Endless streams of ingots land down
umpteen, rejuvenating, and dewy
signs of trust, optimism, and passion
Innuendo arty souls, albeit poetic syntax
hamstringing people with an arrow —
words convey verisimilitude vacuum
life thrives inside the one with insight
his devotion expands spreading apace
peaceful and fulfilling, ethical goals
erase worries, tears, and years.
Silence —
Lost in a celestial room, in a dream
flicker of fleeting rage
frightening fetching to fall in fetters
unexpected cacophony of sounds.
a wail escaped —
at the beckoning of serenity,
words gushed out forcefully
as if through a sluice
a stunning orchestral serve
was launched —
wonderful whirlpool
of seraphic wispy whims.
Silence —
He broke beyond obmutescence bounds
effortlessly eradicating despondency
and invigorating the once-quiet abyss
silence akin to a servant's shroud
have the courage to voice our opinions
exude confidence and vim
disrupt the enchantment
soak up the language —
let your tongue reflect and respond.
an inner whirlwind.
Silence —
Quiddity of nature resides within
the wreath of gloomy academia
such my final words, pulchritude
words with plumose wings
branch stretching —
whittle vine from the brittle barks
alpine brightness, as speckled embers
as pogonip laden its lair
moments before the kiss perches
snow covered it under Winter —
and forgetfulness blurs my dreams.
Silence —
Images surge through April bold, a magical thrill I do behold;
Across the earth a glorious rite, surpassing human delight.
Clouds descend with minty air, their luster beyond compare ;
This tableu...a prelude call, as peaks of my soul's climb enthrall!
Such grandeur holds out its charms, when crest of nature's glow disarms,
And her pomp explodes on skies that resonate with my sighs...
To bask within this flaming scheme; earth reaches its height, supreme
As ecstasy fills the whorl where mirth and magic unfurl
A canticle rings out so soft as ingots of stars flick, aloft...
finally the view is set in one fire glow I can't forget;
sweet the acme of divine core as my exultations soar!
I recall writing checks in my spidery crawl.
The TV then was a humming spaceship
with glowing innards that deep-scanned
all who glued their flickering, bug-eyed minds to it;
it abducted whole families at a time.
That same television
materialized microwaves as heavy as lead ingots
replacing bread bins
while ushering in decades of TV dinners.
“Radio Shack’ and “Block Busters’ were thriving
The short brutal war between Betamax and VHS
was long over.
Cars had not yet learned to speak.
Many men thought that learning to type
would be a waste of their valuable time.
We had to go out to get stuff.
Fish in fish tanks
were considered adult entertainment.
The long married kept their sex life
hid like a ‘sixteen millimeter’ movie
projected onto the back of their brains.
Camera film had to be sent away
to be often irretrievably lost.
The food pyramid was thought to be
the right way up – we were already fat-heads.
We trusted the nightly news.
Then the Net captured us,
we found we had many hidden talents,
some even discovered how to wriggle their ears
and both at the same time!
Dixie Cup Memorial
by Odin Roark
How small it is
this bottom of the Dixie cup
looking skyward
holding high the torch
the unemployment check
of another kind
Held aloft with no regrets
Half full
Half empty
All the same
Someone had to shoulder the orders
Now in desert camo-dress
his prosthetic hand holds forth
watching fingers pass over
some manicured
with pennies
some scabbed and scarred
with singles
even children's innocent fingers
dropping their nickels and dimes
Many have acknowledged this
His back-home identity
His calling card
His shingle
His name plate
The mind huddles close now
few copper and silver
no blankets of green
no ingots of gold
A note floats downward
swathing reality
Thank you for your service
Would you like a job?
What are your skills?
Can you relocate?
Sure
he says
his eyes lingering
upon his severed legs
each knee projecting its solitary reality
Purple Heart pinned securely to the right
Just let me gather today's windfall
2 pennies
1 nickel
3 quarters
1 subway token
Relocating again
Travel
Enough to get me there
Pocketing the Dixie cup
his hook and knuckles pull forward
surging his mover's dolly
transporting Faith's hidden hope
Ahead
looking back
his benefactor strides onward
his missing arm yet another lost appendage of honor
his smile a projection of comaradery
his Ooh-rah a respect never ignored
Not far he says
Not far
I took a long drive down to Harbinger Row
Where the grass is all dead and the flowers won't grow
Where the people and their pets are now long gone
And an icy cold wind whispers till the dawn
On certain nights you can hear the spirits cry
Under a pale-blue moon or a blood-red sky
They suffer and anguish for all that they've lost
Their hearts have run cold like a cold Winters frost
Their souls are so twisted, dark, vile and deep
Where the air has grown foul and the dead never sleep
Devoid of all light, all mercy, all love
They spit out their anger on the living above
Now standing alone beneath a blood-red sky
A figure in the distance soon caught my eye
He came into focus but then disappeared
But I still felt his presence as his spirit neared
He spoke to me then in a voice soft and low
What brings you down here where the flowers won't grow
Is it fortune or fame or knowledge you seek
What brings you down here from the land of the weak
You'll find no diamonds, gems, or ingots of gold
All you'll find today Boy are hearts that run cold
And of all the dead hearts, mine's the coldest of all
You can hear my shrill cry when the coldest nights fall
The fortune or fame or knowledge you sought
Your pitiful journey down here was for naught
For now that you're here, you never can go
Forever you'll dwell where the flowers won't grow
Your spirit is mine and mine all alone
Your body, your flesh, your blood and your bone
No sunlight or mercy or love will you know
You'll suffer in anguish in darkness below
Now I'm shackled, I'm weak, I'm ten dungeons deep
My bones crackle and creak and I can't fall asleep
But the dead never sleep cuz there's nothing to dream
I could hear his voice laugh as I heard my voice scream
So if you travel down here but you don't know why
Under the pale-blue moon or the blood-red sky
Just another lost soul with no place to go
Where the grass is all dead and the flowers won't grow
When all else lays on eve’s mantle,
this heartbeat stirs, awakening unto a flicker
of midnight-- and I observe if the early jay
had returned from its chilled dwellings … Not
at this moment, not yet as thinning beams fade
while my heels race out; struck by gray of darkness.
Eventide bestows a time for pained outrage
when the discovery of loved ones’ sudden farewell
comes unforeseen, when ardent dreams
transform into hostility… and glimpses trace
a juggle of distant stars: my parents,
my three brothers’ delicate frames
perhaps roaming through a heap of wiry leaves
as if crushed riddled by
ingots on an embattled skyline ...dawn
quickens heading eastward,
until child-like hands fold in litanies of prayer
denying I had lost them entirely:
In the blue midnight, I wait, wait for their
return in full knell from jay's anthem--
knowing the crypt of mortality terrifies
this vulnerable abandoned being.
Am I now a real orphan, life’s distraught survivor?
Tell me, dear fate...
because even the gods do not answer.
..................
1/03/2019
Caren Krutsinger’s My Loudest Feelings Contest
~ In honor of my brother who passed away last year~
Shall we retourne now to China
Celebrate this coming new year
To watch fire crackers and dragons
Spring festival season to cheer
Celebrate this coming new year
In fantastic Chinese style
Dance with farmers at temple fairs
Year of the monkey lets go wild
To watch fire crackers and dragons
Would surely be an awesome scene
Hanging red lanterns in the park
In the rich city of Beijing
Spring festival season to cheer
With silver ingots on our plates
Lots of delicious food and fish
And gifts of envelope’s await
© Copyright K.C.Leake
18 November 2015
All Rights Reserved
For The Contest
She sent me a lol on wattsapp
Please pass the ketchup
Mothership gliding in silent space
Umbilically us padded in shiny foil
Her face deflected in a fish bowl
Leaves only guessing about her thoughts
Lets dock Lets talk
Little ingots and tiny orbs
Suspended in the fluid of my sight
Just us against the world
Through the crackling and the static noise
Wincing hard to hear her voice
Her words a soggy sandwich
Pleading as my waning battery
But my head wouldnt dock with my heart
And somehow we became unwed
She was my torment, I was her duty
Her virtue was the softer call
And that became her beauty
Ive become much softer now
But it doesnt work for me at all
A completed work a naughty boy
Indifferent now to watch me fall