Long Inlaid Poems

Long Inlaid Poems. Below are the most popular long Inlaid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Inlaid poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Muttering Retreats

To whisper in the eyes of a lover
and find the cold frozen tip of a tear
in silence, our blue hearts would discover
     that love had become fragile and austere
     through our emotion's brawl
     and our dreadful downfall
     inlaid in our heart's wall
                             to understand
        our wonderland
          turned desert land
The shattered love we could not recover
Had its time, yet we will always revere
The muttering retreats in our minds fall
                            like pouring sand...


5/25/18 contest The Puzzle of My Rhyme
sponsor Broken Wings
Form: Rhyme


Twas Fortnight Before Inspection 2021

Twas fortnight before inspection 2021...,

Not a human creature stirred, nor seen 
throughout Highland Manor, 
property carpeted in lush green
gently hilly terrain,
(a deathlike stillness descended un keen
quiet and quite cool April 26th, 
deux thousand twenty one).

Vicious rumors circulate wrenching
hammering, and drilling psyche
where mailer demons invade,
that immediate hell fire enfilade
natural hair color made
gray follicular shocks amply pervade
instantaneously turning
Janus faced with Machiavellian

mean streak inlaid
(how word some would say)
"stern", any previous
housewarming aura
experiencing welcome spiel,
nor iota of politesse present,
but Trumpeting her entourage,
asper self important capering escapade

taskmaster known to abrade
even the most stalwart macho,
gung-ho, brave heart appear afraid,
thus oft time tis most
advantageous and optimal
prospective mutineers betrayed
Princess Ja***n Ge***r
harridan de jure ushering tirade

akin to a petit grand mal one
woman banshee masquerade
hoop puts on be preyed
upon switching pretentious airs
dead ringer give
away (immediately
points gnarled finger
sentenced to clinker visage),

non verbal charade
hence unstoppable mounting
anticipatory anxiety manifests
as disabling, impending,
oppressing fate
cannot be delayed
if insubordinate tenants
try with futility to evade

officials with truncheons flayed
doth rarely give surcease
renters passing grade
she, the consummate
de facto grande heiress
of Gr***e & Qu**e
inherited plum deal,
where lifetime employment,

and generously paid
analogous as born
(that way) portrayed
maintaining poker face
into royalty made,
now as single mother
to biracial heir
purportedly inhabits castle

abode with parents,
thus no child
care costs paid
expectant heavy foot
falls getting louder,
(oh...no that jist
my heart pounding
whence approaching raid

so please inform this jade
did troubadour if privy to let
(me and the missus) aid
i.e. a safe and sound
place to call home
with this hole in the poetry wall,
I would immediately
make thee a fair trade

in lieu of living, where
mercilessness doth parade
expenses property upkeep,
teaching (two 
door ring) English,
or even employed
as a mister minute maid.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member You will untie knots from your chain, with trembling hands whistling in the wind

You will untie knots from your chain, with trembling hands whistling in the wind,
And you will be unstrung, in turn, from someone's necklace, like an exiled pearl.
Often, partings dress in mute garments, sleeping in the shelter of silence,
Other times, you'll be the silent saint, and your answer is the void left behind.
Sometimes time insists on washing the shores of your weary hearts,
And it will find you at the hour when the moon advances its circle, asking whose farewell it was.
Perhaps you will never know, but there is a quietude in leaving the unresolved in shadow,
A premonition in every knot left untied, an ecosystem regenerating itself.
No, partings are not rocky lands that desertify our spirit,
They are just chrysalides where butterflies ready themselves for another bloom.
In the concealment of each chapter's end, new characters prepare to enter the stage,
And every denouement brings you closer to the dawn of another beginning – a new odyssey pursuing its course.
Perhaps now you cannot see, for the veil of melancholy is thick and challenging to pierce,
But through the fine thread, the warp of another tomorrow is woven, in understandings beyond us.
And there will come a time, maybe when leaves arrange themselves differently on the branch,
And you will understand the hidden adventure, the weave of wisdom where every loss was, in fact, a gain.
In the epilogue of each person with whom you no longer speak, with whom you no longer walk,
There lies a prologue where different steps are set to be made,
And each residue of soul you leave behind, small or large,
Is fertilizer for the future territories of your heart that await conquest.
On the long road, inlaid with the gathered smiles and sadnesses,
You are the artisan of a journey ever-forming, until,
In the sparkle of moments, you will see – every departure, every union,
All... were not merely steps, but were dances in the grand ball of your existence.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Home

I have heard the heartbeat of our souls
inlaid in quiet renderings of love's
gentle looks of comfort from the unspoken word
that echo through the rush of time passing unseen
by love's eyes that are caressed by beauty
from coupled hands held firm
as we search the wondrous wanderings of our tomorrows
in silent steps of unison on our journey through life

Where our grateful hearts are free from mundane concerns
from life's continuous drama
for we are secured by the tether of unconditional love
shared without fear of its breaking
as we hold no anger beyond its time
finding the truth to be self-evident

We are enraptured by love's colors
seen through the prism of our hearts
that dance to the melody of grace
across the stable floors of trust and forgiveness
lit by the glorious light of understanding
that when we are together...we are home


8/6/19 contest My Home
the theme... for when I'm with you, I'm home

Sketching Nature's Portrait

On mountain top high
Where delusions of grandeur fly
Superfluous pen grounded but spry
With ink stenciling the availing sky
Wispy clouds through portals do espy
The regal, azure fountain in scarab's eye
Golden beams vaporous plains do ply
With sultry steam airy canvas does dry
Jet stream's wistful currents solemnly sigh
As lingering, eerie presence of a train passed by

Descending to the valley low
Infused landscape portraits glow
Vicarious pen raised up on the gallows
To stitch tangible but fleeting shadow
Spindled meadows, with amber girth to hallow
Stinging nettles, thistles inlaid soft soles to harrow
Gilded Buttercups frill with radiant, golden bow
Alongside, faded Dandelion wheels dander strew
Beautiful, Monarch, sequin fans heated air bellows
Nearby, Great Black wasp pierces cricket with arrow
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Precious Pearl

Between shells
in an oyster
hidden from the world

Held firmly
I left 
a teardrop

Buried in the ocean of heartbreaks
caressed by the rain falling in memory off
one lost treasure bathes 

A cold lonely stare looks for direction
held in the shell of my heart
inlaid to rest mother of pearl

Holding you so deep inside darkened skies
who brought the thunder in roaring aches
lightning strikes falling in pain

In a sun kissed mist one treasured rainbow 
appears looking at the pot of gold
I open the treasure chest one more time

Slowly opening the shell leaving the teardrop 
upon your pillow happy to love dreaming forever in you 
a sparkle caressed by the oceans wave

Not Fake News This Just In

FROM BIKINI BOTTOM TIMES...

...Spongebob Squarepants...what...atoll...?
plunged into where,...no way...toilet bowl...
supposedly, when the ghostly hand ex-toll
ling praise from his late creator, and master

meow mind of popular Stephen Hillenburg
cast said main character in clean new role,
an unexpected greasy, grimy, grisly, grouchy,
grungy gruff peagreen pissed off potty troll

snatched the unsuspecting 
cheerful happy go lucky
animated fellow, who lives 
in a pineapple under sea

(at 124 Conch Street) quite 
self absorbed with Gary
his pet snail (not answering 
questions at this time), we

understand emotional devastation,...
and possibly got flushed....sniffling
and sobbing heard...discontinuation,
this could wreak something
offal to all those avid landlubber

fans (many grownups) cling
to cautious optimism, but accept
vigilant prayers believing
quirk of fate could turn tide
of events & cannot dismiss linking

Russian collusion with attendant
rogues gallery, nor abandoning
any in house political conspiracy,
where top Navy brass calling
attention to an uncommonly

unusual migrant barnacles casing
with doddering fogey "Watergate
Plumbers" in tow absconding
before they could be apprehended
(hmm... something seems fishy)

haint no logical explanation, why
anyone would seek squeeze zing
the porous life out of such a
lovable...how unsinkable... accosting
...argh das spic and span hubble...

such a congenial, gentle, likable...
made himself come to life, (and
make believe to fans) achieving
he really existed, when birthed
from figment of imagination aching

tub be accepted and loved (by other
than Mister Rogers) acquiring
water world renown purportedly
slated to receive Krusty Krab shape
formica plaque engraved with his

name inlaid with finest enameling,
meanwhile...stay tuned at amazing
undrying resiliency as saturated media
updates how beloved soaking  
hero does wetter adversity!

Charles Baudelaire translation: Invitation to the Voyage

This is my English translation of "L'Invitation au voyage" ("Invitation to the Voyage") by the French poet Charles Baudelaire. It's a poem he wrote for his soulmate...

Invitation to the Voyage
by Charles Baudelaire
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My child, my sister,
Consider the rapture
Of living together!
To love at our leisure
Till the end of all pleasure,
Then in climes so alike you, to die!

The misty sunlight
Of these hazy skies
Charms my spirit:
So mysterious
Your treacherous eyes,
Shining through tears.

There, order and restraint redress
Opulence, voluptuousness.

Gleaming furniture
Burnished by the years
Would decorate our bedroom
Where the rarest flowers
Mingle their fragrances
With vague scents of amber.

The sumptuous ceilings, 
The limpid mirrors,
The Oriental ornaments …
Everything would speak 
To our secretive souls
In their own indigenous language.

There, order and restraint redress
Opulence, voluptuousness.

See, rocking on these channels:
The sleepy vessels
Whose vagabond dream
Is to satisfy
Your merest desire. 

They come from the ends of the world:
These radiant suns
Illuminating fields,
Canals, the entire city,
In hyacinth and gold. 
The world falls asleep
In their warming light. 

There, order and restraint redress
Opulence, voluptuousness.

Keywords/Tags: Baudelaire, French poem, English translation, lands, invitation, voyage, soulmate, love, pleasure, child, sister, rapture, climes, alike, resemble, chamber, bedchamber, bedroom, domicile, ornate,sumptuous,  native, indigenous tongue, language, luxury, extravagance, opulence, voluptuousness, ordered loveliness, slightest, merest, jacinth, hyacinth, warming, radiant fire, beauty, order, bless, blessing, restraint, redress, inlaid mirrors, beauty, symmetry

Premium Member Taj Mahal

The poet Rabindranath Tagore described it thus:
"Like a solitary tear suspended on the cheeks of time"
This structure is indeed sublime
Located in India, it is one  of the most visited places
Its name means Crown of Palaces
And it took about 20 years to build

Hailed as the epitome of love and beauty
Emperor Shah Jahan felt he had a duty
To build this magnificent structure, in memory of his favorite wife.. (Mumtaz Mahal)
Who sadly, in childbirth lost her life

Construction began in 1632
And it took a 20,000 man crew
To complete this structure
Consisting purely of white  marble

Standing in perfect symmetry
It is surrounded by four gardens, and four minarets
Its interior  is inlaid with precious gems and pearls
Taj Mahal,  one of the seven wonders of the world
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.
art

Visions of Machu Picchu

I walk over archeology
relics of ancient times
and I,


fall as Tlaloc dreams 
with obsidian eyes 
and pulls me in, 
A High Priest
wields the dagger
as a virgin weeps
of manna, blood drips
as the sacrifice triples
the alliance fell 


a Jaguar stalks
in maize lines, clay stones
inlaid with gold symbols 
direct to Huitzilopochtli’s throne 


in codices 
the prickly pear
reads of eagles 
swallowing snakes


bearing 
the fruit of prophets
welling from sacred earth, 


the muse crumbles
in the history of the Mayans 
but a prophecy ever specks 
with the tongue of Nahuatl 


a vision of Machu Picchu 
emerges

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