Long Jade Poems
Long Jade Poems. Below are the most popular long Jade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jade poems by poem length and keyword.
Under the sparkling waterfall, cascades
of rushing amber waves. A breathless
spirit of invigorating grace - she fades.
Just as quick, she reappears, with cockle shells
dancing upon her bikini’d breast. The mermaid
sways my sigh, with a melody that no mortal can slay.
With splendid scales of jade and gold,she riles the deep.
The briny sea swallows her whole —
but then she sweet talks the whirlpool.
Such beauty gargles and spouts like a whale
as rainbow fish frantically scurry
and sail to their slippery domain.
The half-clad fish trills once more, than heartily laughs
as she tells me the secrets of her lovers.
This lass with two sea legs leans to her tell.
“I wait ‘til the bloke knocks himself out
or nearly drowns or until
he drinks himself over the side of his charter.”
We cackle together, Galia and I, as tears cascade
down the buoyant cheeks of sea pals.
9/23/2019
MERMAIDS Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
He beat upon his breast
As he fell to the ground
Mumbled words escaping
Heart's pain formed into sound
“Please…Forgive me, oh Lord
I am so full of sin
This wretched game of life
Alone…I cannot win
I’ve cheated; I’ve lusted
I’ve inflicted abuse
Dear God…I clearly see
To you…I’m of no use
“Forgive... God…oh, forgive…”
His beard soaked up his tears
As gut wrenching sob
Gave voice to all his fears
The “righteous” man just watched
His pride filling the place
“I thank God, heaven’s light
Is shining on MY face.
Lord, you know my good deeds
I help the poor in need
I gladly give my tithe
For Lord, I have no greed
Oh Lord, I’m not like him
That poor man on his knees
I’m glad I can stand tall
For I live life YOU to please.”
On sinner and not “saint”
The good Lord’s blessing fell
He needed to be saved
Enter heaven and not hell
The other felt holy
Justified in his eyes
The Bible makes it clear
His "righteousness" was lies
A lesson comes to us
About the sin of pride
People who are humble
In heaven will reside
So be kind and gracious
Remember your true place
For the humble in heart
Will live to see God's face.
Jade Celeste
I'm going through my older writes and reading posts left by friends. :) It is like reading a journal and reliving lovely memories. This is a poem I posted a long time ago, and I'm reposting it now. I feel that I need to learn this lesson. We get hurt when our pride is touched, but who are we to be proud? We are finite and God is infinite. We all make mistakes, and we should forgive one another. We sometimes see others sins and are blind to our own...as in this story recorded in the Bible. I'm willing to learn. Christ was humble enough to wash the feet of His disciples...even the feet of his betrayer. Who am I to do otherwise. I need forgiveness...
B ruised by bitter blows
R age uncontrolled, bestowed
U nable to break free, I cringe
T error terrifies… yet again…yet again
A rsenal of belittling weaponry, employed
L ayer upon layer, neglect enshrouds
I solation from the questioning world, enforced
Y ou are brutally brutal…yet again…yet again
Jade
Not something I'm experiencing, but abuse is not only physical...It can be mental, emotional, verbal, psychological....Neglect is also a form of abuse.
In trying to find pics for this poem...I traveled to an ugly world. The images are haunting. I'm sickened to my core. The images will stay with me....children, the elderly, women, men, animals...all suffering. I'm sure if we are honest with ourselves, we will admit to being abusive at times. :( Let's make a change.
The moment winter softens into spring and all is melting, the first flower is the
white snowdrop poking through the snow, quickly followed by johnny-jump ups.
They are so cute and delicate in my patch of garden, they just pop up everywhere.
Here and there are bright patches of loveliness.
snowdrops touch my heart
jump ups where you least expect-
they say hello spring
And then come the drifts of bulbs planted in hopes last year. The flocks of crocuses,
daffodils, and tulips all a pleasant mingling of color. Some even grow on my lawn,
I blame the squirrels for that. The whole garden is wild and dripping with flowers,
but just for awhile. Those bulb beauties fade away as quickly as they came.
so fat and healthy
growing like musical notes-
so soon withering
Oh, the harmonious hues of summer, the painted daisies in their pretty dresses,
and the purple irises all fancy. And near the back fence, the sweet yellow meadow
rue amongst the lace white lady's mantle. Soon come the day lilies and the blue
phlox, and just beyond the fence a lilac tree brings lovely scents on the breeze.
such a pretty view
from my big kitchen window-
I look thoughtfully
Fall has come and the garden is beginning to fade. It is a rough passage, cruel to
see the menacing weather confuse the flowers. Oh, how they struggle to survive
the cold rain and frosty nights. But the strong still bloom till the very end.
A single delicate rose is a gift to behold. And then the garden sleeps.
pushing the limits
each flower must fade in time-
garden memories
And under the snow the garden dreams. Beneath the earth it sleeps, as the winds
howl and drifts of snow cover everything white. They sleep. And I also have dreams
for my garden. I make plans for next year, for new flowers to plant among the old.
Winter is a time for dreaming, planning and wishing.
perhaps bell flowers
or maybe blue corn flowers-
oh shasta daisy
___________________________
October 29, 2015
Poetry/Haibun/Garden Diary
Copyright Protected, ID 15-721-996-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Creative Haibuns, sponsor,
Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
Third Place
The Pop Whips of Life
There is a 'child's play' that begs to teach in the 'play out' of real life. As in real life, there were possible mishaps, but none experienced by me. One by one in a long line, the hands of young children were held tightly together. All were filled with laughter, as a strong one led the way, running and pulling.
Placed at the end of the line was one, by necessity, even stronger. A smaller one, at the very end, was filled with wonder and anticipation. There was no need for fear, but total trust, leaning fully on the mercy of another. In child's play, the drama is so much more fun and the outcome predictable.
In real life, take the hands of Him whose hands formed us from the dust. If blessed by God and endowed with trustworthy ones, take their hands. If life should jerk or "Pop Whip" you, take the hands of the trusted ones and hold them tightly, never letting go.
03042017 PS Contest, Open Poetry Contest, Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
Marigolds, pansies, sunflowers, tulips, and carnations
Bird or beast, fish, or all mountainous valley temptations
Zircon, sapphire, topaz, citrine, jade, garnet, and beryl
Gold, brass, copper, or any yellow-coloured metal
In my Indian culture, I know, yellow brings gladness.
Its little glimpse brings, they say, zeal and zest to its fullness
Yellow-wrapped invitation cards; yellowish gold culled words
Do you know that in India, we had gold-gilded swords?
Whether you win or lose, auspiciousness is what matters.
Yellow is the witch, we know, by whom each evil shatters.
Has my house painted yellow ever peeled off? I don't know
When it comes to shades, it's with yellow that I seem to flow.
It's a germ killer. It's In turmeric water, we bathe.
With quality and quantity of gold, our brides we swathe
With yellow in rare shades, their villa is decorated
Will they live so long, or will they soon get separated?
This is why they ask me, "Why is yellow the best?" I say:
In my nation, sure, there are 130 shades of yellow. Anyway
What use have I for words when body aches
For touch to resurrect a dead desire
I crave caress that all my power wakes
And lips that blaze on me a wanton fire
What use have I for words; they’re impotent
When body writhes and burns for hands of love
My mind is seared with passion, dominant
that calls to flights of ecstasy above
What use have I for words when hunger grips
The brazen need for its satiety
When trembling takes control of limbs and hips
And drunken passion mocks sobriety
Till words transformed to hands obey your will
To storming heart I whisper: "Peace...be still!"
JADE
The sun, a brass gong,
a brassy, blazing command,
it wakes the world,
with a fiery, golden hand.
The air, a hesitant breath,
in a nascent, cool embrace,
now exhales,
warming with the sun's grace.
The earth, a jade canvas,
in emerald light, it lies,
dappled, vibrant,
shimmering under golden skies.
The trees, a verdant legion,
stand tall,
reaching for the sun's rays,
in an arboreal, vibrant thrall.
And then, a slow descent,
the sun, a tilted coin,
it's light, a slanting fire,
on a canvas, now stained with wine.
The earth, in ochre draped,
hushed, in golden afterglow,
embraces the waning sun,
as shadows lengthen, softly grow.
The wind, a sigh of cool air,
brushes the twilight sky,
with the day's farewell,
as night's curtain begins to lie.
And on the tongue, the lingering taste,
of sunlit warmth,
a fading, sun-kissed sigh,
a promise of dawn, in the heart of the night.
If you wait until the sun goes down,
a thousand suns will rise.
Artificial, bright, igniting
tangled clouds in smoggy skies,
and flooding dingy streets
with fluorescent streams of light
that carry waves of people,
cresting, crashing, clashing
across mismatched sidewalks.
They speak in foreign tongues
that lick like wild flames
and burn with glowing strangeness
as cockroaches skulk and scurry
beneath makeshift stands
where pairs of busy hands
prepare the strangest foods,
from skewered squid and snakes
to crepes and pineapple cakes,
cubes of deep-fried tofu
and the freshest dragon fruit.
Watch them badger, hear them barter
over onyx rings and jade bangles
beside rose quartz beads that dangle
from scratched display cases.
The market throbs with energy,
a living entity that swallows me.
And when I think I've lost myself,
I focus on that giddy sound,
the universal language
that transcends all others.
They laugh, and I smile.
*Based on a night market I visited in Taiwan last year
Why does my consciousness get swiftly corroded?
Why my conscience finds itself in contradiction?
Why with strange thoughts, words, and actions mind get loaded?
Why betwixt likes and dislikes there's constant friction...?
Soul soft, as a gentle tender breeze gets soon swayed,
The spirit within, by cares and worries, is hauled;
Cracks in the axle of awareness make verve jade,
My senses, like birds and beasts, in slavery, stalled...!
This is, hence, I have decided to cleanse myself,
All that is making me drown in the sea of dread,
Should be shed and the soul should become a fresh shelf,
Wherein humanness should its motherly wings spread...!
In a bodiless, celestial space now I swim,
All that entrapped me, like a hunter's net, are gone;
Desires defeated heart and mind possess no whim,
Cleansed of all pitch dark clouds I see a dazzling dawn...!
Renunciation and detachment have been born,
And have started dwelling in me, making me light;
Indifferences, like dust in the gale, are blown,
My bond with each being has become rightly tight...!!!