Long Intertwine Poems
Long Intertwine Poems. Below are the most popular long Intertwine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intertwine poems by poem length and keyword.
As two, hearts dance the embrace of a fire,
plucking your heartstings as a lyre
Distrust, lies, eclipses love's satellite true- natal
loon, into a suicide hot air balloon ride!
Moves aside bend of light, chooses,
side, of a dark malignant side of moon !
In the twilight hour blues,
where passions softly stir,
emotions start to blur, turn sour,
painting pleasure in the night maw to devour two
In the depths of the night, a solitary light wound
casts a shadows upon the heart,
where darkness slowly seeps through
With every stolen kiss, a crescendo of desire,
a symphony of emotions that sets souls afire
Strings of anticipation strum
in rhythmic delight tuned to
caressing secrets, where fantasies abide, nude
Signs, who, hides moons of the truest kind!
O a tale apart
Moves side winds, breath of the dark arts,
to align into hearts maligned
arms folded in death to make with
as a stolen kiss ignites a flame,
like a symphony, our hearts fall prey to again
be betwixt in the game
With every stolen kiss, a crescendo of desires,
hollows,
a symphony of emotions that sets
souls adrift from the shallows
In passions dance in the shadows,
at Night, where secrets cannot hide their gallows
from the ghouls that preside in it's marrow
In a tale ripped apart...
every 'plete of your heart
Strings of anticipation strum in
rhythmic delight tune
turns to the knife of sacrificial rite
In the twilight raimant so blue, where passions fly,
the jolly roger of motley fools,
selling the fine line
sailing the live mines
Embracing the darkness' essence,
a tale yet for reason
harmonies of ecstasy reaching
a breathtaking peak of reasoning
Oh, the cadence of desire, intoxicating and divine,
as crescendos rise and fall, our spirits intertwine
a symphony of emotions, wild and misconstrued,
leaving souls aflame, forever marked,
for death do you sever
apart partaking your
passions dance in the shadows,
at Night, where secrets cannot hide to
desires lever toggle with every touch, new,
every sight of slight or bruise
Urban decay of a dream,
dream theater of a tragedy
playing looped scene
In the Twilight raimant so blue
With every beat of your heart
Moves side winds, choose, sides,
with a dark maligned tune
In the tapestry of life's intricate design,
A journey filled with love and loss intertwine.
From childhood's embrace to the call of duty,
A path of resilience, courage, and beauty.
Blessed I was with parents whose love knew no end,
Guiding pillars, companions, forever friends.
With every step, their love paved my way,
Teaching lessons of kindness, all through my day.
I joined the Marines to see the world's vast expanse,
Encountering new cultures, taking a chance.
In the midst of service, love's light I did find,
Meeting my soulmate, destined to be mine.
Love at first sight, a bond unbreakable and true,
Discovering in her, my reflection, a clue.
Embracing the role of husband and father with all of my might,
Living my life, filled with love's pure light.
Tragedy struck, tearing apart my happy home,
Loss of my wife, and mother, I was left alone.
Grief's heavy cloak enveloped my days,
Yet through the darkness, my spirit would not be swayed.
The strength of a woman, my mother so dear,
Fighting through pain, and facing her fear.
Caring for her, as she faced her final fate,
In her grace and courage, with God there's no debate.
Through loss and pain, my writing became a guide,
A channel for emotions, for tears I had cried.
Penning poems of raw truth and grace,
Touching souls, shining a light in that dark space.
Seeking to share my words, to reach those in need,
To offer help, hope, in every word indeed.
Mental illness, struggles, faith's ebb and flow,
Uniting humanity, in joys and in woe.
I hope my verses find wings to reach far and wide,
To touch hearts, to heal, and in love abide.
In sharing my story, my voice it finds its power,
An offering of empathy, in life's uncertain hour.
I can only hope my poems are a beacon of light in the night,
Shining for those who may have lost their sight.
A testament to resilience, faith, and love's grace,
In a world that yearns for kindness as it's embrace.
With each stroke of the pen, my story is told,
Of love, of loss, of courage so bold.
In sharing my journey, and truth leaving nothing unspoken,
May hearts be lifted, and barriers broken.
Thank you for reading my tale of joy and woe,
I hope my words continue to inspire, to grow.
For in storytelling, I find my peace, and in the memories I hold deep.
And in love and faith may our souls the Lord shall keep.
In the twilight of existence, where shadows whisper secrets to the restless soul,
Man seeks to escape himself in myth, weaving tales to hide his truth,
By any means at his disposal, he dances on the edge of oblivion,
Drugs, alcohol, or lies, each a mask to hide the fragile self within.
Unable to withdraw into the depths of his being, he disguises himself,
Crafting stories and illusions, each a fleeting sanctuary from the storm,
Lies and inaccuracies, like gentle lullabies, give him a few moments of comfort,
In the flux of consciousness, where thoughts flow and ebb like an eternal tide.
In this river of dreams, I see him, a wanderer lost in the labyrinth of his own mind,
Seeking solace in the myths he creates, a painter of unseen realities,
His heart, a canvas of longing, each stroke a metaphor for escape,
And I, a silent observer, am drawn into the melancholic magic of his journey.
He walks through the corridors of memory, each step a whisper of forgotten hopes,
The shadows of his past intertwine with the light of his aspirations,
In the depths of his despair, he finds an appearance of peace,
A fleeting mirage in the desert of his existence, where lies and truth converge.
In the darkened corners of his mind, the myths take on a life of their own,
Each a beacon of false hope, a star in the night of his solitude,
He clings to them, these fragile constructs, like a sailor to a sinking ship,
In the endless sea of his thoughts, where reality and illusion blend.
Through the haze of his deceptions, a fleeting clarity emerges,
A moment of truth, like a fleeting comet in the vastness of his mind,
He sees himself, unmasked and raw, a soul stripped of disguises,
And in that moment, the melancholic magic of existence reveals its true face.
But the moment passes, as all moments do, and he returns to his myths,
Comforted by the lies that shield him from the harsh light of reality,
In the flux of consciousness, where each thought is a wave in an endless ocean,
He finds solace, peace, in the myths that allow him to escape himself.
And so, in the twilight of existence, where shadows and light intertwine,
Man continues his dance, a seeker of myths, a creator of illusions,
In the melancholic magic of his journey, he finds the strength to endure,
A wanderer in the labyrinth of his own mind, forever searching for the elusive truth.
At the edge of twilight, where logic fades,
and the labyrinthine corridors of thought stretch endlessly,
I find myself wandering on the shoreless sea of imagination,
where poetry breaks the chains of reason,
and everything is equally possible and impossible.
In this boundless realm, I sculpt my verses from dreams,
each line a thread spun from the depths of the subconscious,
where fantastic waves caress the sands of reality,
erasing the boundaries between what is and what could be.
Here, I conjure castles in the air,
each tower a testament to the freedom of the mind,
unfettered by the constraints of logic.
The relentless waves of imagination
wash over my creations, shaping them
into ever-changing forms of wonder and melancholy.
In the silent solitude of this mental expanse,
I wander through fields of metaphors,
where thoughts bloom like ethereal flowers,
their petals whispering secrets of the unseen.
Each step I take unveils a new story,
a tapestry woven from the threads of possibility,
where every path leads to a different horizon.
In this dance of words and visions,
philosophy becomes an art of unraveling,
shattering the continuity of argument,
and guiding the soul towards the edge of the infinite.
Here, in the twilight between thought and dream,
I find a sanctuary where the heart speaks its truth,
unbounded by the limits of reason.
I dream of a future painted in shades of joy and sorrow,
where the ephemeral nature of happiness
is both a gift and a curse,
a fleeting moment captured in the lines of a poem.
In the deepest corners of my longing,
I seek a partner in this journey,
a soul steadfast and true,
but the cruel irony of fate decrees that this search
is a path I must walk alone.
My heart, fractured by the weight of this truth,
seeks solace in the quiet of resignation,
promising that somewhere, happiness awaits.
And in this endless sea of imagination,
I find a strange comfort,
knowing that in the realm of the fantastic,
everything is equally possible and impossible.
Thus, I stand at the threshold of the infinite,
a poet adrift on the waves of creativity,
my verses a testament to the boundless possibilities
that lie beyond the shores of logic,
a reminder that in the world of poetry,
the magic of melancholy flows like a river,
carrying us to places where dreams and reality intertwine.
(In a 19th-century legal judgment studied by all who
learn the English common law, Sturges v. Bridgeman,
the court found in favour of a "nice" doctor over a
"common" manufacturer, for reasons of pure snobbery.)
The Candyman Can’t
Some legal battles have the power to thrill,
while others never have, and never will.
Some touch on human themes which really matter,
and some do not. We’re dealing with the latter.
This present case is hardly OJ Simpson:
it lacks dramatic shape, and simply limps on
listlessly, with abstruse reasoning,
no sex or violence to give it seasoning.
One Mister Bridgman manufactures sweets,
in premises where Wigmore crosses/meets
its neighbour, Wimpole. Eighteen seventy-nine
of our salvation, two lives intertwine
when Doctor Sturges takes consulting rooms
around the corner. Disagreement looms,
for Bridgman’s grinding, pounding candy line’s
destroying Sturges’ peace, fragging his mind.
The law of nuisance really is quite funny.
It says, “he did you harm? Well, here’s some money”.
What if you’d rather dodge the damage, and
defer the dollars? How to countermand
the duty-breach-then-damages regime?
Suppose we interpose a better scheme?
Instead of “you must suffer, he must pay”,
we stop the harm? The problem goes away!
This ruse is known as “equity”. It functions
by granting prior relief (they’re called injunctions).
So Sturges stemmed stentorian sweetie sounds
by order of the court, and Bridgman found
his business gagged and bound by hoops of steel,
for no good reason. What to do? Appeal!
(For thus advise the lawyers. Such affairs
drag on for years. The lawyers? They get theirs!)
Said Bridgman: “I’ve been cranking out jujubes
for decades now. It’s all gone down the tubes
because some quack dislikes the earnest hum
of my devices. Why, then, did he come
to Wimpole Street? He wants tranquility?
Go hang his shingle in Highgate Cemetery!
I have a remedy for Doctor Sturges:
it’s swallowing his antimony purges!”
But Bridgman lost. One cannot help but feel
that making toffee wasn’t quite genteel
enough. Their Lordships said behaviour
that’s unacceptable around Belgravia
can find a home in Bermondsey. The latter
has lots of lowly types. It doesn’t matter
if they have noisome noise, and have to live
in filthy fumes – for they’re not sensitive.
Written: July 09, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Jump in the cool water for a chilling time.
Where worries are forgotten and spirits climb.
Watermelon treats, juicy and sweet,
A taste of summer is a delightful feat.
Bright fireworks burst into the night sky.
Colors explode, captivating the eye.
Dances under the moonlight; bodies sway.
Lost in the rhythm, worries decay.
Days at the beach with sand between your toes
Building forts, surfriding, and life's worries oppose
Sharing an icy treat among friends is so sweet.
Memories filled with laughter and light compete.
Blast in the sun, revered time with loved ones,
Building bonds and connections, as rays from the sun.
Splashing and playing, the water's embrace,
Cleansing our souls, leaving no trace.
Sun-kissed skin, a golden glow,
Feeling alive, our spirits are aglow.
The sound of waves crashing against the shore
A symphony of nature, forevermore
Seagulls soaring high above
A reminder of freedom and a symbol of love.
At this moment, we're all connected.
Nature's beauty is never neglected.
The salty breeze, a gentle caress,
Whispering secrets, we're truly blessed.
These moments reassure us daily.
Splashing into icy water is cooling and gaily.
Refreshing and revitalizing, a much-needed break,
From the chaos of life, an escape we make.
Watermelon treats, a taste of pure delight,
Bringing joy and laughter—a summer's sweet bite
Bright fireworks burst, lighting up the night.
A kaleidoscope of colors, filling us with delight.
Dances under the moonlight, bodies intertwine,
Freedom in movement is a dance that transcends time.
Days filled with beach activities, laughter, and cheer
Creating memories that will forever be held dear.
Sharing an ice cream visit with friends is a simple pleasure.
Creating bonds and connections that we will always treasure.
Blast in the sun, making memories that will never fade,
Moments of joy and laughter in the sunshine we wade
Valuable time with loved ones is a gift we hold dear.
Creating a bond that will last year after year.
So plunge into the cool water, relish the dulcet time,
Indulge in watermelon treats, oh so sublime.
As bright fireworks burst into the night sky,
We'll dance under the moonlight, with spirits high.
In a realm where shadows dance, the world will be but a howl of pain and ecstasy,
Where the purest among men, in their quest for sanctuary,
Shall find themselves teetering on the brink of weariness,
Facing a choice that echoes with the agony of despair and its emptiness.
The skies painted with hues of sorrow, the earth a canvas of tears,
In this melancholic landscape, the heart battles its fears.
The whispers of the wind carry secrets from ancient legends,
Tales of souls who wandered, seeking something more.
Among the ruins of dreams, where hope once proudly stood,
The echoes of laughter now drowned in a somber flood.
Those with pure hearts, in their silent vigil, watch the world crumble,
Clinging to fragments of light, as dusk turns endlessly gray.
In the labyrinth of thoughts, where consciousness flows like rivers,
The mind wrestles with torment, the body shivers.
Metaphors dance in the twilight, weaving ancient tapestries,
Stories of agony and ecstasy, in whispers, they are told.
The choice of agony, an open path where shadows tread,
Where the soul's lament is a song of the dead.
Yet, in the heart of darkness, where despair seems to reign,
There lies a flicker of hope, a respite from the pain.
For in weariness, there is a surrender, a silent plea,
To find solace in the void, where the spirit can be free.
The purest among men, with hearts heavy and worn,
Seek refuge in weariness, a sanctuary from the storm.
The howl of the world, a symphony of sadness and delight,
A paradox of existence, where day merges with night.
In this magical journey, where consciousness flows unbound,
The soul seeks meaning in the melancholic sound.
The choice of agony, a testament to human suffering,
Where weariness becomes a beacon, a guiding light.
For in the depths of despair, there lies a hidden grace,
A promise of redemption, in life's intricate maze.
The purest among men, in their silent contemplation,
Find strength in weariness, a profound revelation.
The howl of the world, a reminder of the fragility of being,
A call to embrace the pain, to find the true meaning.
In the heart of this melancholy, where shadows intertwine,
The soul discovers its essence, in the esoteric divine.
The choice of agony, a journey through the soul's night,
Where weariness reveals the path to the eternal light.
Dew
Soul of morn, at night thou sleep
Then dance in mead on blooms on grass
The pearls and diamonds all there weep
Thy shining sheen them all surpass
Thou kiss the Green green vales and hills
Thy love all earth and heavens cross
Dewdrops are the tears of fairies
Hovers that in nights on sky
Beads of glass the gems on daisies
With the beams of sun they dry
Puff of wind from blooms them erases
Then he said these gems goodbye
Moon purchase them in star night
And send all diamonds to our land
Decor it heath and woodland sight
And help her mighty seraph band
O love of sun and moon ish beam
That no one on earth for thee stand
O breath of morning , Drops of dew
Refresh thou souls that roam on earth
O beauteous eye, O watery hue
Thou heave last breath soon after birth
In meads thy friends all channels tread
And then inhale they thy pure breath
It seems more soothing there to think
To part from thee just means the death
From heaven's height on earth they drop
And shine on leaves on bloom on green
From edges of the leaves they pop
And call the centuries in between
More beauteous than the magic world
Is dance of pearls with diamond sheen
Thou foster child of sky and earth
Thou wedding garments of the trees
All Nature is the guest of Heath
And welcome it who ever sees
Thou vanish at the Zeus gaze
O thou the Queen of snow and rain
Thy love for thee mourn in the green
And search thee in the days in vain
My goddess shine thou in moonbeams
That come to meet thee from the sky
In morning shine thou with the glee
Then to the goddess moon thou fly
A silent silent time of Glee
Thou silent breath , thou silent hue
Whence there you fly all wish and cry
O come on goddess we love you
All woeful hearts all beauteous souls
In morn they come in search of thee
Inhale in morn thy scented breath
And then return in mirth and Glee
Oh moan of eve, Oh smile of morn
With grief and Glee thou intertwine
We are the beat of one sole heart
With thee it breathes, the soul of mine
On earth and heaven only one
Thou melting lass ,thou glassy Queen
Thou left behind the Bacchus pards
Thou lofty than the Hippocrene
Thy dresses dipped in heaven's sea
With Eden gems and pearls they shine
From sky in goblets angels bring
Thou full of gems thou heaven's wine
Under the veil of twilight, where shadows whisper the secrets of the soul,
A river of thoughts flows endlessly, weaving through the ethereal landscape of my mind,
Carrying fragments of self-knowledge that must be torn apart before I am whole.
The man I know myself to be—the one who walks in familiar shadows—must meet his end,
So that the true man I am, hidden deep in dreams, can rise and truly exist.
The echoes of an old self ring hollow, desperate for the dawn of a new essence,
And in this dance of melancholy and magic, I glimpse the delicate balance of transformation.
I wander through a labyrinth of metaphors, where each corridor leads deeper into the fog of introspection,
Where the walls are adorned with pale portraits of the past,
And every turn brings a moment of reflection, a confrontation with the shadows of an old self.
This man I have known, a tapestry of familiar fears and comforts, must perish,
So that I can lay him to rest in the catacombs of forgotten dreams,
And rise from the ashes, a phoenix reborn at dusk, unburdened and pure.
It is in this crucible of self-destruction and rebirth that I find the essence of who I truly am,
As I walk through the valley of my own soul, unweaving the fabric of the past,
I understand the necessity of erasing the echoes of the old man within me,
To carve out space where the true man can breathe, live, and flourish.
The old man must die, his spectral presence fading into the night,
For only then can the dawn illuminate the contours of the true self.
In this mystical journey, where melancholy kisses the edges of hope,
I surrender to the flux of consciousness, a current that carries me toward the horizon of becoming.
This dissolution of the known self is but a necessary prelude to the symphony of rebirth,
A metamorphosis that transforms the chrysalis of the soul into the liberated butterfly,
Wings unfurling in the gentle light of twilight, where magic and melancholy intertwine.
And as the twilight yields to the night, and the stars paint the canvas of the sky,
I stand on the precipice of my own becoming, the old man laid to rest,
While the true man steps forward, a vessel of possibilities, a testament to the beauty of transformation,
Embracing the melancholy of loss and the magic of renewal, in the ever-flowing river of consciousness.
4/24/21
I
Can give you a good reason why
It's important to try
Girl what's your sign?
Who knows what could happen given time
As events intertwine
And coincide
The stars occasionally align
High above us in the sky
She thinks she's a nine
I think she's a five
Thought I was a nine
Always treated like a five
Now we each got peace of mind
Together we shine
Never dropping dimes
Always I'll attempt to provide
Even though it may not be successful every time
Went out to clear my mind
Sat in the drivers seat of the ride
Took it out of park, then put it in drive
Most lifeforms just trying to survive
Enjoy it while you can
Understand
That in the end not a single life gets out alive
Seems like nearly everyone has a type
And that they follow the hype
Through a life
That's rife
With strife
Still looking for a wife
That's one thing I'd truly like
Every single day and night
Over and over again I've
Tried and tried
Still I have yet to find
A woman with whom I really vibe
For you I always got time
I'll be the groom if you want to be the bride
Side by side
Off into the sunset or moonlight we ride
Nearby a low or high tide
Have the time of our lives
That's my kind of something nice
In a world that can be colder than ice
Stay alert, or you could pay the price
She thinks she's a nine
I think she's a five
Thought I was a nine
Always treated like a five
It's happened more than twice
Different women told me to take a hike
And that they would rather be a dyke
Happy to see my head on a spike
Yikes!
Not kidding when they said sugar and spice
Stars and stripes
Darkness or lights
Birds and planes in the midst of flights
People acting like they have special rights
Quick to start fights
Meanwhile, I continue to roll the dice
I got nothing, everything or just a slice
I'm
In my prime
Actually wise and a one of a kind guy
As time passes by
Whether on the ground or in the sky
It was the truth or a lie
Eventually, we all do die
Originally I was blind
And surprised
Now I often see it with my third eye
Whether I'm sober or I'm extremely high
Living life like I'm in 2025
Didn't just visualize
Or realize
Felt energized
Yet far from satisfied
Often I had to improvise
In order to avoid getting hypnotized
Always lived such a different life