Long Invigoration Poems
Long Invigoration Poems. Below are the most popular long Invigoration by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Invigoration poems by poem length and keyword.
Inspired by the Bridal painting of the Empress Elisabeth of the 19th century Austro-Hungarian Empire -
Elegance, strength as elegance,
elegance of spirit personified as if this extraordinary elegance
was born to be, beyond the devestation of mortals,
so far outside the boundries of the base & banal ravishings
prevelant within peoples' passions and purposes,
escaping expectations of equality,
graciousness was alive within her
like a landscape loved & leavened by a monogamous moonlight,
ebony overcome by the invigoration of ivory,
realising that genuine grace is a monument
of courage confronting chaos, crystallised composure,
she being a template and temple for hopefuls,
in all my experience I have witnessed no woman more ready for power,
more savoring for sacrafice, more able to abate avarice & acrimony,
Elisabeth, the emerald of an Empire,
Mother to minions, mistress of the misery & magnificence of the multitudes,
Master of the stout & savant,
such precocious puissance of personality, regal resilience,
my imagination renders eagles delivering sustenance to her,
bees bringing heavenscent -
J.A.B.
Spring is a time of rebirth and rejuvenation,
A vernal season of whimsical invigoration.
Admiration is conveyed through this way,
It relishes a bit like freshly fallen rain spray.
A scent of lemon, aloe, and sieved steaming,
Like ambrosial rosebuds blooming in spring.
A glass of polished ruby bears serenity,
It's saffron on silk with a resolute divinity.
Colorful gown of yellow, green, and blue,
Shimmering in harlequin-inspired hue.
It divinely glides over meadow and field,
Where silky lobed rugs swarm with their yield.
3RD PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: April 27, 2022
Spring Rhyme - 8-12 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
In the mirrors of Moirai
kismet and karma kiss adoringly,
unaware of this betrayal they label as life.
In the hallucination we call birth,
words whisper like bitter winds,
composing a metaphorical manuscript,
weaving a quilt of invisible inflictions.
Silent screams serenade in childhood bloodshed,
where no messiah arrived to rectify sins of saints -
so some languish among abandoned souls.
Modern monsters no longer hide beneath the bed,
they feast amongst our freshly prepared banquets.
In a fathomless pit, I'm slaying prosaic demons,
before indigo hues turn ebony -
who are they to destroy my dreams?
I never heard the birds sing
in a playground of lucid lullabies.
I still recall the ghosts of featherless angels,
swaying upon swings adorned in garlands of grief.
Their eternal spirits flickering in silver embers,
evolving into perpetual vessels of reflection.
Confused in a realm of revolving doors,
tarnished paths only withhold wrath,
leaving behind trails of trauma,
where twisted trials lead to disfigured destinies.
Glass hearts only break in battles with burdens,
so our spirits become victim to Medusa eyes.
When each sigh flows like a slow poison,
we search for virgin daffodil dawns,
as distractions to numb the pain.
Fatigued from the battles from
those who rebel against our hearts -
we seek solace from sojourners of invigoration.
Blessed are those who connect with universal harp strings.
Who merge with the sacred aura of music.
Who notice the stars before twilight,
comprehending the glory of sunrise,
as an analogy against adversity.
I was not designed to be a flower,
contained in a snow globe,
covered in ivory flakes when shaken.
I have forgiven the blameworthy,
who are guilty for chaining an inner child,
but I'm still waiting to break free.
Before I waste away and my thorns decay,
ordain upon me the fortune to cradle love -
let me flourish in the field where Rumi's roses bloom.
Dearest Soul of a Woman,
We are not to be confused of wants, of needs,
of desire
what sits upon the tip of tongue
dancing autonomously in the wind
but still
tethered to a branch
not old, not young
waiting for release, for a life,
not yet begun
what sets us free,
gives us flight, fancy
slowing of gravity pulling us down
elevation
instilling invigoration
is it love?
where we are floating through air
where pain has gone and disappeared
I am the window, you such as light
warm up the scullery
let your sun clean my night
etch circles of crystal
in jade prisms with care
beveled with yearning
where hearts will appear
soft strokes of cheek
blushed with brushed lips so so ripe
render me worthy
of this rich beauty's life
Against pressures of daily demands
my physique yields to debilitating energy...
…thus, I admit need for invigoration
to relax with serenity’s bliss, nestling in God’s strength
cuddled by His wondrous pampering presence
while rejuvenated through reverberating Gospel music
filling my haven’s retreat-room
securing me complete rest toward functionality's brace.
Amidst rigors of ministerial endeavours
my spirit grows weary in striving well...
…hence, I succumb to divine refreshing offers
as the Lord invites me for a sweet respite in His bosom
to meditate His wondrous Word: illumining, comforting, upholding
paving for assured revival and thank-propped joy
He grants by our vibrant fellowship together at His altar of grace
enclosing me --- toward a sublime hiatus of heavenly moments.
Along burdensome battles for triumphant faith
my human nature gives in to fleshly cravings
and soul concedes to worldly conquest dominated by pride…
...so I confess falling into temptation, weak and drained
oh, earnestly begging for God’s sanctifying forgiveness
as well as empowering mercy for holiness’ pursuits
available whenever I abide in Christ*
Who provides hiatus haven for recovery and sound well-being.
*Psalm 91:1 He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
February 10, 2021
3rd place, "Your best free verse so far this year" Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton; judged on 5/25/2021.
What is there inside the about- to- blossom bud
Plenty of light and some dark obviously for us
Or nuclear horror as Donald has thundered?
Whatever, I do look up to your soft green grass
Through the two deja vu purple window glass
In pink expectation we live this rainbow life
In expectation we look for a door and a window
In expectation the bee hums from flowers to the hive
Will the bud unfold towards a happiness crescendo
Or circumstantially we will be in a puzzling limbo
Let us welcome the new year two thousand seventeen
For an end of something and for others a beginning
Some poems to write off and some others to take up
Towards humanity improve our mental makeup
Towards the morning that would give us our teacup
Without elimination no purple invigoration
Goodbye sixteen that has spent all its green
Apples and oranges in colors of seventeen
Birds by the window in their voices umpteen
Standing in the juncture calls the future dream
Let us respond by saying we are ready too
In the tarmac of time holding hands me and you
__________________________________________________________
28/12/2016
Spring
Ahhhhh
As the frost leaves the ground
I feel my mind begin to thaw
Old emotions rise
New possibilities
The sun rises on previously dull eyes
All things seem within my grasp
Emerging thoughts sprout from the dried ground
What seemed barren has been renewed
Heart quickens
Still affected
Nose intoxicated
I can taste the air
Anticipation
Invigoration
Muscles ready to move
I shake off the residue of a long cold winter
Dark days no longer my concearn
Time for dancing
Singing
Dreaming
Time for sleeping has ended
Remnants of youth flow through my veins
I rise once again
I am still part of spring
An old tree with new leaves
Standing proud
Yet swayed
Moved by the winds of change
Ahhhhhh
Spring
In the fall of my life
Yet you and I coexist
Alterations Of Gommunications
Alterations of deep invigoration that pull me out of this dream
Calibrations of computations that numerically demean
Annotations of misco ordination that stifle their screams
Complications and celebrations as they misunderstand the meme
Hallucinations that are forced on you when reality is where you stand
Communications that are sad but true as your forced to play your hand
Condensations of a situation that just won’t get through as the poor take a stand
Commiserations for the chosen few who are now considered grand
Bipartisan confusion in places where there was once political reason
Artisan allusions that advocate for freedom
Partitions of dellusion that could be considered treason
Admissions of collusion that are beyond the call of the season
Barometric records that increase the temperatures around the globe
Geometric treasure found in nature that mathematicians constantly probe
Symmetric compositions that you never want to go
Esoteric inquisitions that are there for spiritual show
Mass communication that over saturates the order of the day
Crass enumeration that you never wanted to display
Alas this enunciation may not land in the right way
At least in the commiseration I have said what I needed to say
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
"Invigoration by infatuation"
She found me at my lowest point!
I was down and out had no mattress on the floor, no food. It was begging and borrowing to keep the stomach from growling.
In my murky ways, l was stuck, smoking joints by the side way trying to catch flights on highways. Noxious friendships led to constant bruises.
With no confidence in my step,
No nosh in my tummy, no hands to hold on to, she was the light that reanimated hope and faith into a broken spirit, she revived me, inspired me and saved me from self demise.
We built a home together, two hands tied. Delivering a knock out to negativity a strong bond only God can break for in the end its her and l.........
I Care I Search.
So many years had separated us.
I felt a sense of accomplishment
when I visited the church that I and
My family attended when I was very young.
The pastor was leaving, but he opened the
door and allowed me to walk through the sanctuary
of that little country church where I accepted Christ
as a child and was baptized. It was also sobering as
I walked through the cemetery.
I Care I Search.
When my search began 15 years ago,
I did not know who was dead or alive.
Shortly before I began, I was informed
that Bob had passed on. Perhaps Bob's
passing hastened my quest to reconnect
with old friends and other people I knew
many years ago. After writing a poem about
him, I later learned that Dennis had passed.
I Care I Search.
Dennis and Johnnie were my closest friends.
A few years ago, I learned of Johnnie's
whereabouts and his current health status.
Three weeks ago, I met with Johnnie whom
I had not seen in more than 50 years. That
is why seeing him was most touching, and I might
add that I have never felt a feeling like that.
Due to his mental status, our communication was
limited, but just seeing and touching him was rich.
I Care I Search.
My search was initiated because I cared so dearly.
In so many ways, I have a deep debt of gratitude.
I don't know anything with which to compare this
my feeling of richness, my invigoration experience
of finding people, places, and things of my 'yesterdays'.