Long Intrude Poems
Long Intrude Poems. Below are the most popular long Intrude by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intrude poems by poem length and keyword.
1
Sunday, an overarching day both raw edge conduit and
coarse grain shelter for that soul in torment,
it’s when psyches plagued by doubt face those
sudden twists and turns we call bizarre,
thoughts of the macabre and their covert operation may
intrude into our leisure zone as skin rash nettle hazard.
we’re there latent paranormal hidden hands as I drew
closer to a roadside curb whose mortar filling had been
shrivelled due to timeline passage?
2
One can be blind to seismic portent, atmospheric tension’s
silent whisper, random omen pointer surreptitious,
little did I know what lay ahead bar dim light inkling and
its scene-shifter impact at an awkward later stage,
as the wheels of my car began to screech a pulsing
nebula of images stoked an inner world sixth sense,
skepticism’s early cloud speck haze now off-limit as
orange-red sunlight shafts reveal an ornamental placard.
.
3
It had this brazen mantra,
that cryptic but incisive query-
“Going somewhere?”
Light green paint brush clusters and intertwining leafs
garnished borders of this plaque with its scheme
in transit blithe charm,
an angel face hitchhiker stood, her ocean blue crest
eyes openly inviting gold rush dawn apogee,
a silken twang rippled like some fresh mint oxbow
spring chase or meander.
“Hello, I'm Lelia. Life is an algebra of enigmatic
hue and strange encounters going into orbit.
Clandestine journey for bohemian quest
Who knows what convoluted upshot might ensue?”
Just outside the window
a row of coned shaped trees bend their foolish heads
for her attention...
She can have her way with them...
yet, with such a wily nature, she passes over them,
and softly treads a path through the garden gate...
Her steps are light as dew, making not a sound...
as she hesitates to wake a slumbering rose...
and timidly brushes past a trellis of sleeping morning glories...
She peeks in, then slowly slithers through his open window, while he lies sleeping....
The angle of her glance makes his closed eyes flutter...
and he smiles....
Her appearance casts shadows on the far wall, as she stares across the room at him
She tarries for a moment
A reflected image on the mirror spreads her silken white cloth...
He feels her move over him...
He is kissed by this welcome intruder, ...hypnotized by her charm, and her cool breath...
Dazzled by this embrace, he tosses the quilt, in restless dream....
She caresses so softly, filling his heart, and making him sigh...
He basks in her love, and lies in sweet gratitude in his sleepy state
enraptured with sweet contentment
Soaking up and drunk with the intoxication of her shine
Outside, a lonely eucalyptus tree is jealous...
Impatient and longing to feel such affection....
It's branches clamor against the glass, hoping to break her spell on him...
But, woefully....
angry clouds intrude to steal away the moment...
She runs and hides!
No longer does he feel the kiss,...the sweet lunar incandescence of her breath...
The seduction of her glow...
Coolness and disappointment envelop him as darkness returns again...
And he is once again alone in the shadows of the dark
He must pull his blanket up, and dream of other lovers.....
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For Dr. Ram Mehta's contest..."Luna... Goddess of the Moon"
With sleek quartz body he reclines on the dune,
rolls on dancing with the rhyme of ripples strewn
listens to the arid music of the harsh desert wind,
face gleaming, doesn’t mind the grueling grind.
He lies still on mirage in the shadow of solitude,
his heart of cool crystal feels the heat intrude,
sees the scarlet sun scorch the desolate desert,
waits for the waltz of cool night breeze to start.
He feels the forceful fury as the sandstorm blows,
to the fervid fold of the opalescent oasis he goes,
where he sinks as serenity soaks his heart’s core,
the rage of the desert sun can’t sear him anymore.
SPRING TIME MEMORIES 2
Spring in Lijiang
Blooming flowers sparkle;
Crystal clear waters
~~~~~~~~~
Snow-cap mountains
Majestic horizons;
Sky borne eagle
~~~~~~~~~
Prominent ancient town
Glimpses of old China;
Modern trade-offs
~~~~~~~~~
Ancient grounds glimpse
Tarry on stone bridge;
Curious feet loiter
~~~~~~~~~
Common grounds
Local folks ponder;
Observe tourists intrude
~~~~~~~~~
Old bazaar shoppe
Ancient gentleman smiles;
Pipe smoke patterns
~~~~~~~~~
Photo snapshot
Memory milestone;
Still life ambience
~~~~~~~~~
Brisk browse
Snatch good feel;
Takeaway trinkets
~~~~~~~~~
Ancient village moments
Emergent present;
Fast food restaurants
~~~~~~~~~
Lijiang in spring
May joy sets three days;
Heart wanders home
~~~~~~~~~
Picture story
Glimpses of Lijiang;
Vivid colours dance
~~~~~~~~~
Feast for the eyes
Magic moments stray;
Vivid visit
~~~~~~~~~
Cobblestone lanes
Petrified tryst;
Personal memoir
~~~~~~~~~
Silver everywhere
White metal textures;
Precious distractions
~~~~~~~~~
Once upon a tour
Lijiang in China;
A kind host
~~~~~~~~~
Winding pond
Willow tree murmurs;
Morning salutation
~~~~~~~~~
Fragrant Pu-Er tea
Tasty brew invigorates;
Round roll blend
~~~~~~~~~
Spring time sojourn
Far far away;
Horizons merge
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
19 August 2014
Singapore
“In the gap where no narrow thoughts intrude ~
Heart is bliss imbued in the interlude”
~ quote by poet
Desires that bind, we’ve left behind,
making our touch gentle and kind,
each breath prayer of gratitude,
poised thus in blissful quietude.
Tranquil silence shows soul the way,
that by making love our mainstay,
ego cravings do not intrude,
poised thus in blissful quietude.
Stillness our orientation,
enlivened by meditation,
vibrant in time stretched interlude,
poised thus in blissful quietude.
Likening life as but a dream,
where myriad illusions stream,
we’ve no ambitions to conclude,
poised thus in blissful quietude.
With no agendas on our shelf,
ordained fate unfolds by itself;
we feel bliss rise in magnitude,
poised thus in blissful quietude.
In time transmuted as the flame,
highs and lows to us are the same,
with heart transparent and soul nude,
poised thus in blissful quietude.
Awareness self-aware sans thought,
throbs with vitality love brought,
as our heart’s transformed attitude,
poised thus in blissful quietude.
From her lavished home
Into the body bag!
From the body bag
Into the cold freezing plant!
There is more to it
Than the freezing of beers
That's for you to hear!
She was beautiful
Or so,
She had thought to herself!
But not anymore!
The reason for her leaving
And the manner for it
Must be known!
He was called in.
And again she moved
But she knows not that she moves!
Now, she moves
From the freezer
Onto the bier
Into the green room!
But she wasn't aware!
How futile!
He came in
Clad all in green.
Down came the scalpel
Tearing her up
Like a butcher with his knife!
He pulled and tugged
At dead intestines
At rotting food remains
At the bloating liver
At the motionless eyes
At more and more!
Then he took samples.
Samples that will tell
Or even untell
The cause of death
Of this once-upon-a-time beauty.
Looking at the once
Privately private body
That was gaily covered
And that no one
Could anyhow intrude.
Looking at all before him
He knew
Again and again
As in all other ones
That we are living
In futility!
We are but wastes!
His job is to find
The causes of deaths
Of this body and many more
Before and after.
But he thought
For how long more
Will he do it?
He knows his will be done
Then his man pike
A grub would have become!
But when will it be done?
Lots of deaths
He had helped demystify
But what will kill him?
He knows not.
He only knows
That one sure day
The Pathologist
A stiff will become!
(An homage to Wole Soyinka. Born from the
poem: POST MORTEM)
A short walk from the road
you are deep in forest.
Tall mountain ash form
pillars that hold up space
and keep a cathedral
of shade within its walls.
High overhead, a canopy
of leaves curtain the sky
in prayerful whispers.
Tree ferns crowd a gully
where fallen giants bridge
a creek carrying a trickle
of mountain tears.
You keep your silence
not wanting to intrude
on another's grief.
Sometimes you can hear
lyrebirds perform their repertoire
of mimic song. One, they say,
can copy the sound
of a chain saw, another,
the long drawn out whine
of a siren as it races
towards a fire.
Through shoveled loam I glimpse pale light
Hands dare intrude into my burial crypt
Exposing the devastation of my decay
Dignity of this chamber has been stripped
Human eyes stare into my skeletal sockets
I feel the sun's warmth, but cannot spill tears
Lips, long ago stitched from laces of my soul
Loosed were the bindings of stygian spheres
Wormwood case and satin pillow, rotted
Lily's scent lingers, squandered their seed
Awakened without sight or sandals afoot
Penance in supplication for every misdeed
My rueful spirit, once clothed in silk shroud
has dwindled to dust and time brittled bone
I remember pleading in voice of reason
Cover my nakedness and inter me, face prone
*These verses do not reflect my religious
beliefs of life after death.
Dead in the center of her heart I found a minotaur.
Of all things a frigging minotaur.
I stood puzzled as we locked eyes.
When I stumbled upon him he was sleep with today's newspaper drenched across his lap.
He bounced up in full guard.
Me being me I asked him for simple directions.
Telling him that I thought I was lost.
I planned on seeing heart shapes maybe a butterfly or two.
A big bunny shape thing or two but you, just wow.
He grinned slightly and said yeah that's the first time I've heard that one.
One step further, I added.
I take it from the amount of drool on the side of your lip you've been sleep for quite a while.
Now I don't mean to intrude on your guarding the labyrinth thing but,
How about you let me bum a smoke and we'll talk about it at the nearest dinner.
After all who can be mad over breakfast
Grief is harsh and hard on the body and soul
Eating comfort food has packed on the pounds
Nutrition will be something that I focus on this year
Tears are cleansing, but they intrude at all times, I will try to be gentle with myself
Leaning into friends and family, who encourage me to be healthy
Easing my heavy heart by taking care of myself
God is with me every step of the way, and I continue to lean on him
Reading is hard for me, but I can listen. Listen to audiobooks, friends, and God's voice
Intake of fluids keeps me hydrated and a cup of hot tea is good for the soul
Exercise will help the stress of grief and burn the calories I stored up
Vivid colors, and sunshine in nature are a pick me up for a grieving heart
Intake of breath, when the world spins, will help you find your footing again
Never taking your mind off the goal of a life well lived and eternity in heaven
Giving to others who are hurting, helps to heal my shattered heart