Long Kohl Poems
Long Kohl Poems. Below are the most popular long Kohl by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kohl poems by poem length and keyword.
as the wind whistles
warm wishes
echoing the
sea-salt silence
flowing beneath
silver-kissed waves
I think of synonyms for
love
illustrating hate
in elusive rhythm...
for stars never
envy the moon
but silently orchestrate
a cosmic choir
of coruscating crystals
in incandescent cadence
swirling confetti across
the nocturnal sky~
a compelling
commemoration
that you and I cherish
in technicolor tercets…
I ponder
why do green-eyed gazers
spinning
lilac lies
within
jaded journals
along jeweled realms
rage with
j e a l o u s y?
pushing my quivering quill
to question:
am I not art
am I not the muse
am I not worthy
am I not the ache
romanticized with roses...
perhaps these words
are mere
remnants of ramblings
ricocheting
rhapsodies
within the
breath of perfumed heartbeats
that the kohl-cold souls
can never taste...
so I purge
inked petals
upon the digital canvas,
that feels not
lyrical lifelines
bleeding ballads
h i d i n g and
h e a l i n g
behind
murky metaphors
and
alliterative adjectives
weaving h o p e
amidst
the
crestfallen
sighs
of
bittersweet
horizons…
POTD
How I wish I could have clutched
vignettes of remembrance
on this bench in a park;
the same wooden one
which cradled our afternoons,
feeding little birds
as slices of pang gripped my marrow--
The sharp sting of her farewell,
right on this spot
drowned time's kohl of fate---
that now, I hold the seat's arms limply,
if only to recall
how we kissed in the dark
exploring east, west of mouths--
my fingers messing her hair
nipping quick hours of rendezvous.
I forget not the windswept look
of her distant eyes... hours I have
delayed with my misgivings,
my absence wretchedly crossed ---
and upon my woman's leaving
I on this park every sordid night
kiss her only in my thoughts ---forgive.
Embellished saris glide with hot winds
as the clatter of bright anklets varnish
female heels rippling on New Delhi's trails:
pungent waft of curry permeates
through a local mart —betel, cinnamon
and mint leaves flaunt their skin—
kohl for Oriental eyelids, ambrosial herbs
rousing elder men-- while a bowl of lentils
incite my buds.
Although the thick of dust settles mid-air,
Delhi’s evening of jasmines reflects
a holy incense sanctifying a mystical chant
quiet , ethereal as I adorn myself
with a comfortable sari and layered bangles ,
gazing at Taj Mahal, if only to imbibe
this calm energy unfamiliar yet known
inside my core… my breath follows
Hindi prayers of wonderment
on and on like a song of moonlight,
until I accept allow such deep belonging
through the city’s rhythm with the world
and somehow, intimately mine.
Exotic Contest for Debbie Guzzi
7/20/2017
Fashion’s a verb
an action word
something you do.
A subtle brush of blush
cheeks dusted with peach
eyes, smudge-framed with kohl
a soft fingertip of powder on the nose
so it doesn’t like-Rudolph-reindeer glow
A shimmer of glimmer arching over lids
A bit, a spark, of barely-there bronzer,
and on the lips, a trace of glossy color.
Alchemy or pretty pollution
Chasing radiance on tired skin
powdered to porcelain
Yesterday's bad decisions
hidden by good DNA
and makeup in a cliché
of desperate optimism.
Disclaimer: Tell your doctor
if you show signs of delusion
and begin to believe the illusions
.
.
Songs for this:
One Way or Another by Blondie
Rush by Troye Sivan [E]
.
.
[E] = explicit song
When memories melt like sunset skies,
mirroring my thoughts,
slipping into the salt-dipped
skin of the deep, warm ocean,
I drink from the stardust chalice
of your unspoken sonnets,
r a i n i n g from cologne-stained clouds,
steeping me in aromatic cravings ~
as my heart weaves
love from Juliet’s jewels
within the aching sighs
of mauve moonlight.
And here I dream within
your spider-silk cradle ~
cresting in this chrysalis heart,
drawing butterflies above mulberry trees,
an illusion etched between lifelines.
For in my h o m e s i c k quiescence,
I wear you ~
my magnetic miracle,
twin flame that never dims,
the constellation sparkling above…
So take me where love knows no more~
you and I will forever breathe poetry,
tercets written beneath
the cobalt blue horizon
where eagle feathers soar ~
caressing the inner demons
that grieve in sunflower silence.
As it is through the kohl iris
of your russet romance
I’ve learned the language of loyalty ~
untangling knots of woes
that braided my sunrise mane
into a murky maze of madness,
sprouting mismatched metaphors…
Tonight I shall dwell in the amethyst afterglow
of your dahlia devotion,
illuminated by the aesthetic
k i s s
of kismet roses…
sullen is this night
bearing the burden of toil
as footwalk grows bleak…
crushed weeds,
skeletal trees :
molussk and corn
wait not for anyone
while sandstones drift
mocking the light.
Against kohl shadows
time stalls
to maim common workers
peeling the dark...ebon
craving for innocent stars;
that even stalks weep
slapped by winds--
how in blood of silence
men, women,children
wrestle with indignity
leashed on tattered marrow ,
yet they reap hope
until night’s edge---
restless thoughts gnaw
and... they gaze past clouds
finding comfort in the rain.
Sink your poisoned dragonfly wings in my chiffon atoms of smothered skin,
As I lay supine, along dusk's apathetic horizons, husky and hoaxed,
For, I'm a kin of blood-moon, gnawing at ivory moonstones and ocean's fins,
As a broken carmine harp, that blooms kohl-orchids from chartreuse stems, smoked,
If my fangs pierce through sun-sequined dawns, am I not grim reaper's broken ballerina?
As a wistful wildflower, I float in harbours of helium, weeping acidic dews,
Inhaling watercolor volcano's lifeless heartbeats, akin a frosted firebird,
Carving legends of medusa, on lilith's marble-canvas and mahogany adieus,
Rising as a seascape-myth on glossy shorelines, ebbing in onyx spirals, savoured,
If pine leaves strangle the trinkets of my throat, am I not a broken snowflake's last breath?
"I'm an orphan of poised Mars, swirling in solstitial meadows,
Of shipwrecked sonatas, saturating in igloo-hues of coiled shadows..."
A coyote howls amidst the blackscreen
of the woods as unknown silhouettes
crawl on earth's crust ,
rainstorm ramming on muddy soil.
The cry of doom threatens each being
when the monstrous hour screeches
to gather a crew of newborns
and within every vomitting breath ,
weak infants tumble over an abyss
of carnage... without resistance.
Mothers wail, yet sharp hands
blackened by thorny nails
grip the fresh bellv of kohl twilight --
Nearer and nearer
hooded spirits so humongous descend ...
their green eyes breaking the window chain,
moving closer for a more macabre feast
while babes wiggle like worms :
I turn the screen off in a dark, dark foyer
my heart throbbing in throes of angst,
hurrying to view if my young son
lays on his crib... dreamily asleep;
my mind wrapped in thrall... where is he?
Weary... my footsteps reach a dark alley
as kohl light pushes stars into tender
tempest; notes from an old man's
weeping guitar choke my lungs droning, droning---
as if bitter bass of winds silences
my voice--- never to hear pang of a numb day
that holds this sacred dream I'll never possess.
Entering the halls of my mind, there she is,
laughing like an angel divine, shaping a lullaby
I hummed when arms cradled her when one
night's breath snuffed my child before her time.
And though without her, the young plum tree
that grew under her shade will always bear
sour flowers...its leaves and branches
reaching out to me with tender longing.
Perhaps I'll water them one day,some day...
because without their blooms, I might forget
the face of my little girl whose cheeks
looked like their flushing sheaths...and I gaze
at the same moonlight to touch her eyes
then fold them to sleep. Opening the rusty door,
we kiss," goodnight, baby... I am home."
---Based on my first cousin's experience
BEST SAD POEM EVER II Contest for Laura Loo
Resubmitted 9/12/2016
To grasp your kohl-star embalmed near a pond
That lets ashed hue cascade its ink downstream,
For I am under siege, a light dims from beyond
Recalling our hearts twined through season's gleam .
From caress of ardor... within life's hand,
Black roses thrown eyes breaking in the rain,
You lie still , no ! My heart can't understand
How to keep fired rage , again and again:
Reveries of swayed waltz unfurl... we dance,
Glorious the nights enchanted by love
As we collect milestones within this trance--
But fate's a thief , exiling us from above
And clouds sweep wilted leaves on your headstone
I bleed protest, when ghastly hours decry--
In your leaving, feet tumble, I'm alone
Where tears cut through an unfinished goodbye.
For Your Poetry Journal Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings 8/4/2018