Long Intuitions Poems
Long Intuitions Poems. Below are the most popular long Intuitions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intuitions poems by poem length and keyword.
The cosmos sees itself through the individual eye,
creating space from limited believes not shy.
Whispering firmament reflecting source consenting dreamer,
detached magnification of a rhetoric believer.
Contemplated exhibition of natures trance,
echoes from eons past to purpose advance.
Redemption of all things by beauty,
the art of life force creation and its duty.
Philosophical reign of liberty by light,
mind clothed with wings takes flight in that sight.
Gathered rays entangled breathing beams,
radiant apparition tempers in forms of seems.
Unexhausted spirit where discord can not be,
immortal progeny imagined mystery.
Where intuitions swarm in harmonious wisdom,
the essence poised for all sainted blossom.
The soul in timeless sphere is waiting for the view,
until it dreams in the threshold of the new.
If rain poured
in susurrating sounds
of unshed tears,
will ungrateful dialects
change their insincere
expressions of speech,
or will this unheard
voice forever be
lost as echoes within
glass walls,
where lilac-feathered
letters of farewell
written in red diamonds,
illustrate illusive
narratives of an onyx heart
haunted by
holographic
harmonies,
in glitters of retro line art~
to graphically craft
cacophonous chronicles of
unexpressed trauma,
engrossed in cursive candor,
while this quivering quill remains
dipped in purple
pansies and primrose poetry,
glorifying indigo intuitions
that bleed in
blue-black and burgundy
But, I still keep
surfing in sizzling silence
towards saffron-streaked
sunsets resembling
the wisteria warmth
of your embellished embrace,
awakening from lucid
dreams of sparkling
silhouettes of us,
when I was uncontrollably
lost in your
pillow-shaped eyes,
counting silver stars hanging
on long lashes with lilac dust,
forgetting the times
I was caught in the
riveting rhythm of
lemonade lies.
For in your
amorous arms,
every qualitative question
within incomplete
puzzles of life and loss,
unravels appealing answers
with carnation compassion,
upon corners of
crumpled pages,
where initials of
your flowery
name is a
timeless token,
of love that still exists~
in this woeful world
of hate from heinous hyenas.
But these starry stones
of turquoise trust
shall be the
clandestine clemency
that holds this
unwritten tale of survival.
For, I am unapologetically poetic~
rewriting fuschia future
on pastel colored
paper parachutes,
letting go of twisted
tones cloaked with
jealous January winds at dawn,
as cinnamon gold sequined
skies reflect magic within
misty mirrors,
to begin again
as April crawls back,
knocking on the
laser-lavender portal
adorned with teal-cerulean
wings of our whimsical fairyland…
Bathing in the light of a midnight moon.
A soft picnic blanket is our cocoon.
The metamorphosis has begun.
As you and I, become one.
The limits of love are endless
Grandiose and noblesse
Every moment a new plateau
Emulating that first hello.
Venturing to places never before seen.
Dining on loves delicious cuisine.
Unlimited courses for which to devour.
Enabling the birth of passions flower.
In the heat of passion, our bodies engage.
A placid meadow is our stage.
We let go of all inhibitions,
Forever chasing love’s intuitions
Melting together like warm ice cream.
‘Neath the lucent lunar beam.
To you my heart, I do resign
My one and only Valentine
God painted this portrait of emerald and crimson
Soothing my soul with the brilliant and vivid
Colors of miracles caressing my heart and spirit
Breathing out whispers of sentiments that touch me
With a sense of faith in all that gives hope in this world
God graced the misty mountain morning with a touch
Of joy and inspiration that comes from discovering
Peace that knows no worry or anxiety, but fulfills dreams
With the tender embrace of rainfall that brings with it
Dancing lights of star and moon, insights into satisfaction
God welcomed these jubilant flowers that touch thoughts
With charming desires for tomorrow’s creativity and vision
Moments of encouragement colored in hues of acceptance
Prayers that come alive with amazing intuitions combining
To produce heavenly aromas of kindness felt in this place
God breathed the sparkles into the stars and light into sunshine
Flavored the gardens with delicate hands to harvest all the gifts
From this rich and raw soil which knows nothing of depression
But feels alive with all of nature’s senses and direction, the course
Toward sweet talents sent down from heaven to bless us
God’s garden was Eden, free from evil and even the least sin
Even now, on this earth, there is the feeling of purity and hope
Discovered in the tiny seeds that are planted and nourished
Bringing sprouts of loving plants which fill hearts with serenity
Tranquility that leads hearts to believe in God’s forever, eternity!
God blessed me with a garden and I feel sure He has, ever so gently,
Touched my heart with a piece of true fertility only found within
The one who believes in the Son who found Himself in the garden
Of Gethsemane, awaiting the moment when we would be spared
From the death that only He would need to experience to free us all
God gave us more than a garden when He spared us our own Gethsemane
He gave each one of us a gift of pure, phenomenal love without conditions
A love that would be the answer to every prayer, every mystery,
Love that arises when we discover the answers can only be found
In the spiritual intimacy attained with a relationship bought and paid for by Him,
Our personal Savior… The giver of all the flowers, gardens and vivid portraits
Of nature!
Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies! Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
July 30, 2020
“Just because you are soft doesn't mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the colour gold.” ~Victoria Erickson
Tonight the moon sanctioned
her golden halo
to unfurl butterfly wings
rinsed with honey
and champagne ribbons,
as feathers of lunar crust rise,
to embellish the sky
with silver sequins,
drizzling second chances
upon fickle hearted dragonflies,
gifted as weapons of
deception to the sweltering breeze,
that wrapped my weakened knees.
I’ve always known trusting
is a losing game with no winners,
but why do I always feel
like an intruder sinking deep
into the depths of spiteful seas~
where planktons and stinging marine
nettles prick my untouched skin?
Yet I am still searching for
a singing star that wouldn’t
need written renderings of
how my black tinted glass
heart was left to drown.
Who would have thought,
there’d be more to the
onyx glittered
ripples that stream,
in teal blue waves?
If only they’d hear
every unspoken tale
of shipwrecked ruins
resting amongst graphite
motions of frozen intuitions,
forgotten through forsaken
lagoons amidst
fleeting monsoons,
left as memoirs along
soft coral mists swiftly
passing through patch
reefs in abandoned atolls.
So let me take my splintered
spheres to a realm of no return,
forgiving sinful anthems
that lured me to believe
that friends were more
than enemies in sweet disguise.
I am soft, not fragile,
neither am I a
shrunken blossom.
I am a tiger lily,
fragrant yet fierce,
ready to face whatever~
hypocritical fangs of fate
may serve in merlot wine chalices.
There lived a peasant girl, I do recall,
Of cheerful and charming disposition;
And a servant boy who lived in her halls,
Unwavering in loyal submission.
They fell in love, a tender transition,
But the whims of fate pulled him from her side;
Deployed to war on the king’s commission,
He vowed to return, and make her his bride.
On good fortune, the enemy did fall,
But she knew not of her love’s position;
He was missing from the returning haul,
So she succumbed to dark intuitions.
By happenstance, the king’s premonitions
Led him to the plains where she resides;
When he gazed upon this lovely pigeon,
He promised to make her his princess bride.
A masked man in black climbed the castle walls
While the future queen was in dormition;
She stirred awake upon hearing his call,
Hoping to find her love’s apparition.
He shed his mask and his inhibitions,
Assuring his love that he had not died;
They embraced, a lovely exhibition,
And she resolved to be his princess bride.
The story says, a timeless tradition,
That they voyaged where sun and sea collide;
Through any fate that came to fruition,
She forever remained his princess bride.
There was a time, when the sun was our guiding light,
amidst clouds of twilight that paint our skylines bright.
There were no misleading traffic signals,
halting our ride into the mysterious nights.
A shimmering candle was the spark of truth within-
reflecting intuitions that guide through confusions.
Life was then a simple highway with fewer obstacles,
yet in our ignorance we refuse to see—
we've long followed flawed stars dressed in glowing moonrise.
I ponder, when will rain wash away hazy riddles?
as my heart is hollow and I feel empty,
like a lost gypsy on the sidewalk of a nameless street,
wrapped in a blanket of hope,
longing for empathy over a cup of poetry.
Maybe there's still a secure path for the ones that wander,
to steer without looking sideways for toxic trespassers,
lurking in curved corners behind unsupervised stop signs,
flickering amidst double lies of deceptive lines.
Courtesy For The Broken
Alchemy that lasts among the virtuous and wise
Botany that casts its oxygenated strength during its demise
Misery that is so vast and deep that is accompanied by resentful sighs
Lonely elements that last among loved ones without reprise
Tormented sorrow of the regretful souls who cannot change their fate
Undocumented tomorrows of the young and old lining up at heavens gate
Augmented burrows of technology that the youth idolise and rate
Discontented blows of the underprivileged who stand around and propagate
Ornamental figurines that form a strange collection
Sacramental fractured dreams that mystify invention
Consequential satire based memes that signify retention
Influential capatalist scenes that can’t dignify to mention
Symphonic compositions that profoundly illuminate the mind
Bubonic inquisitions that eradicate mankind
Subsonic intuitions that vibrate throughout what humans find
Catatonic ammunition that leave the poor man to suffer blind
Elucidate the problem properly and solve the puzzle for the masses
Repudiate the omen overly while the flies drown in molasses
Stagnate at the waters edge while the populations integrity crashes
Instigate the uprising from the hedge as they’re ruled by a greedy fascist
Condescending television hosts that smile like false prophets
Trending internet chat thief that through the lies they profit
Ascending through the war torn grief like photos in an ancient locket
Pretending through the disbelief that you’re interested in the rockets
Absurdist inclinations that refuse to compromise their form
Introverted artistic invocations that defy conventional norms
Perverted imitations that disguise the broken and forlorn
Extroverted provocations that bring demise before the storm
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2025
Dear anxiety
Nemesis to my reality,
mental manipulator of tentative trust,
massacring my once sagacious soul -
you cut me into a slice of loneliness.
The fault is in our thoughts,
so I am haunted by the things you never said.
You remain silent to society's subjective eyes,
but a glimpse of a poet's soul shivers,
to these vivid verses held by ghosts -
echoing a repetitive chorus in a cathedral of screams.
I'm an uninvited guest in an audience with you,
so I drink poison in every line I write about you.
These words burn my vocal chords,
but I swallow them anyway,
as my paper heart pumps onyx drops
crying through my veins to heartache's recital
of an infected celestial mind yearning for a remedy.
But life is a cupid cruelty in dulcet disguise,
when your heart is a sinister seashell,
oblivious to potions of omen brewed in pigments of pixie-dust.
You're an unwelcome melody to my mystic,
composing an internal deadly demeanour.
I am the ink stuck in your cage,
dissolving like acid in your controlled carnage,
confined to trembling bleeding intuitions,
lost in corridors of horrific obscure mirrors,
whilst paranoia palpitates in a whirling haze of
magnetic ice warmth, melting my sanity,
amidst crumbling stars that lure cavernous comets
of silver grief to pirouette above frozen seas draped with
a fluorescent creme of skies.
As oceanic tides of topaz rise and fall,
flatlined into pewter streams of emptiness.
The moon coruscates in coral blue lies,
passing through intractable phases of trepidation,
abandoning light in black tourmaline nights -
pivoting into a psychedelic trance.
Rainbows fade before we can embrace
their colorful showers drizzling jade jewels
that rhyme with kaleidoscopic kismet,
as life through rose coloured lenses turns
into a provisional poetic manifestation.
If only I could escape this self-inflicted dungeon,
but you pursue like a perpetual predator.
I'll forever expose your oppression through my poems,
confessing how I never asked for this enforced affair.
I know I'm my own storm, I'm my own calm -
I just hope this is the last time I write about you.
I was taken for a ride
by another poets desire
to take my love
and warp it from above
but I got wise
to love in desguise
and I became stronger
my intuitions longing
for flying friendly skies
buying the ticket
waiting in line
the thrill of this chase
got me thinking
is this a
wonderful ride
or Satan's demise
so I took the time
to comprehend
that this game
wasn't my time
to explore my mind
in finding
the thrill ride
was just a game
in a players find
minding his rhyming
for pleasures of
unwinding inside
so I tore up
the ticket
and walked away
thinking
to myself
I'm glad
I ended
this game played
so I could
be myself
with my quest
for real love
in playing
my way
Cowboy. KID ROCK song.
Lunatic Fringe. RED RIDER song.