Long Mask Poems
Long Mask Poems. Below are the most popular long Mask by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mask poems by poem length and keyword.
Faces of eggshell abeyance dripping
breathless from the branches of bemusing bathos
bespeaking dreams of being worn
as masks of romance,
to be shattered by the essence of a kiss
that evapoeates the veil separating
shadow from flesh,
Can You hear them Luv,
voices of a pale color
murmuring a covet for caress,
can You feel the palor of their pathos,
touch the ashen blush,
a smooth melancholia lush,
mouths, still open,
in hush for that pulse rush,
We are in a grotto of disembodied desire,
these spirits ache like embers dying to burn
as We have ached to love learn,
shall We share with them our heart rhythm,
give them a taste of dilated veins,
of fluid soul ablaze,
You embrace my marbled forearm
with tearing mouth and panting bites,
like a woman committed to primal passion,
I love You as the Tiger loves the prowl,
put your hands heavenly upon my face Luv,
Sshhhh,,,
I place this mask upon the warmth
of your face for ritual affection,
It fits like rose bloom,
place the other ghost skin on mine,
Yes, it feels like living wax fresh
from a black candle flame,
We enter one another like lights
of lava pour,
It has begun my Luv,
the unabashed ambush of innocence
by unbridled lust,
expressing hunger primordial
through a compassion moral,
there be not shame in our giving flame,
We are righteous in naked virtue -
J.A.B.
NOBODY'S PERFECT
At home, at work and e'en at play,
It seems I make mistakes.
Although I try to do my best,
I miss more than I take.
I'd love to be more like the ones,
Who seem to glide through life;
Who never seem to worry much,
'Bout how to handle strife.
They don't seem to worry 'bout,
Life's little ups and downs,
Or what tomorrow morn will bring,
And sweat and wear a frown.
I'd like to learn to be like them,
And hold my head up high;
To walk with confidence and style,
And cultivate some pride;
But when I stop to think about,
The things that I just said,
And how my view of other's lives,
Has filled my own with dread,
I realize what I must learn,
About myself and life;
What I must do to help myself,
To live a better life.
What I've seen of other's lives,
Is what they let me see,
And they have problems just like me,
It's not like I perceived;
For no one's perfect, no not one,
Accept this fact must be,
And realize in all the world,
There's no one just like me.
Judy Ball
We all wear a mask of one kind or another.
It's what we allow others to see of us and how we live.
Very few if any are allowed to truly see what we are really like.
Some who seem to be so self assured are not as confident as they would have us believe.
Some try to give an illusion of knowledge, style and aplomb when they are actually no better off than we are.
So don't judge yourself too severely.
The only person you really have to impress is God and He already knows you far better than you know yourself.
For It's Mask Time Contest by Nette Onclaud
Confidence parades around in this sanctuary
The Reverend blesses them
Maybe me too
He tries anyway
But can I accept it?
Do I believe it?
My faith is gone.
Am I the only sinner here?
I look around for other sinners.
Not any obvious contenders.
Families touching each other in a lovely way
Opening hymnals, singing with faith.
I put my mask on.
I do not belong.
The sermon is about Jesus accepting everyone.
I think he means Christians
Not sinners like me.
There is an invitation.
Everyone is welcome.
I would have to share my true self.
I would have to let them know what a sinner I am.
They keep inviting and inviting.
I jump out of my seat as if I was shot out of a revolver.
Is the love of Jesus enough?
And who sent me up here?
I stare into the stained glass window.
Jesus is opening a door.
I am entranced.
Terrified, but entranced.
The reverend shakes my hand.
He says some words I do not recognize.
I have no idea how I got here.
Who propelled me out of my seat?
Jesus winks from the glass.
Put in
the gutter
you held within
cold black ice
a mask of lies
truth reveals
one deceitful heart
as this world
crumbled inside
it fell apart
Bonds breaking
in a chain
of feelings severed
crying heartache
bled a river
dealing hurt
you crossed
a line
speaking from
the depths
Shackled steel
in a deep dark dungeon
numbed emotions
feelings upside down
a question
without answers
not knowing why
without mercy
The longing pain
links with words
became twisted
aches piercing
this soul
In you dies
as tears fall
clouding dreams
darkens skies
within empty arms
your heart loveless
within died
Full of empty promises
became cursed words
alone feelings
leaving a deep scar
broken emotions
saw within this game
The false face
deceit and lies
truth behind
your mask
Another drop of wine,
it’ll mask my recent crime
To find peace in the smoke
helps replace the things I’ve broke
To enter into his bed
paves an exit from my head
A mirror on the wall,
highlighting the tragedy of it all
The tightening grip,
running down to my hips
The water from my eyes
birthed from the darkest of skies
Whispers in the night that you never forget
like the sun at its rise and at its set
Feet on the ground but you’re not really here
and who’ll be there at the return to hold you, dear?
Conversations with people I never even knew
they give you their reasons, yet none ring true
Who's to say you’ve tried your best
if it’s only you with the keys to your secret treasure chest?
Bill Bulldog was our gorgeous British Bull Dog. We were so lucky to have Bill in our lives for eleven wonderful years. Bill was like no other dog we ever had before. A gentle boy ~ a character! My granddaughter was always scared of dogs, but adored Bill, for to her he wasn’t a dog ~ he was a ‘Bill’.
A face only his Mother could love and she did
Bill bulldog was his name
Bill was a character
Bill was adorable
Bill knew it ~ he was such a Diva
Bill had so many facial expressions
blinking his eyes rapidly – Bill’s pathetic look
jutting his jaw forward – Bill’s naughty look
tossing his head in disdain – Bill’s diva look
bounding toward you whilst running sideways ~
Bill’s ‘get out of my way look ~ I don’t think I can stop’
Bill on rising would roll on his back ~ legs in the air ~ rocking from side to side
as if welcoming a new day ~ you could almost hear him shrieking with glee
Bill loved all homosapiens for what they might have in their pockets
Bill was always on the lookout for treats
Bill ignored other dogs – never thinking he was one
Bill’s snoring kept me awake – stereophonic sounds with hubby joining in too
as he aged Bill became a late riser
needing gentle persuasion to go for a pee
aghast that we had woken him at such an unearthly hour
Bill’s fierce demeanor was a mask he wore
to hide his loving character
Bill would lick you to death
Bill loved to lick
but licking his food was not something Bill did
Bill would gulp it down at the speed of light
Bill was our handsome Boy
Bill was a ‘one off’ – for when they made Bill they broke the mould
Bill was unique
Bill was our Boy
Bill brought us so much laughter and tears
Bill I miss you so…
Written 30th July 2019
3rd PLACE
Contest: Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 – List
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Contest Strand Pick 5
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
The Shield and the Light
In a city of smoke and frozen walls,
A fragile boy, with a heart of steel,
Watched the world shatter before evil,
Dreaming that justice could prevail.
A world that deemed him too weak,
Too small, too frail, too insignificant…
But the heart knows no bounds.
He longed to be more than himself,
To be the voice of the voiceless,
The strong arm for the defenseless.
And on a night in the laboratory,
Beneath fluorescent light,
Under the gaze of scientists and hope,
A symbol was born.
Courage was not measured in muscle,
But in the way one faces fear.
Every step into battle was a declaration:
“Though I tremble, I will move forward.”
And in his eyes burned a fire
That shadows could never quench.
He bears not only a shield of vibranium,
But the shield of hope and justice,
Raised against the storms of the world,
Against tyranny that shakes cities,
Against hatred that strikes like an unseen sword.
When soldiers fell,
He rose;
When the world groaned under injustice,
He spoke silently through his deeds:
“Do not let fear define you.”
His courage was more than a weapon,
It was a light that penetrates hearts
And awakens what lay dormant:
The hope that goodness can triumph,
Even when shadows are thick,
Even when the world seems lost.
Justice is not the law alone,
nor is honor a mere shield polished and hung on a wall.
It is the fire that burns quietly
in the chest of the one who stands,
even when all others kneel.
Steve Rogers learned early
that to fight the battles that matter
is to carry the weight of more than his own soul.
Every choice he made was a testament:
To protect those who cannot protect themselves,
To uphold truth when lies crawl like serpents,
To speak when silence is easier.
He walked into the chaos of war,
not because it was glamorous,
but because injustice wore a cruel mask,
and someone had to tear it down.
The cries of the oppressed were not mere whispers,
they were a drumbeat calling him forward,
demanding courage beyond his own fears.
Honor is a lonely road.
It asks you to reject shortcuts,
to refuse the temptations of compromise,
to stand when everyone else falters.
Yet it is the road that creates heroes,
not by glory or medals,
but by the quiet insistence of doing right,
even when no one watches.
Hearts resume,
Minds forgive,
No mask;
Tasks unmask.
No entry;
Vigilant sentry.
This apple,
Turns purple;
The teacher:
My preacher,
So awesome,
An anthem.
This tempting demand,
Succumb my command,
It comes around,
Anytime to astound,
My pleasing soul.
Doubts stylishly stole,
Any moment unannounce,
Spread to renounce,
Hunting feelings pouncing,
Only eyes bouncing...
The least information,
To my abnegation.
Spread out all love,
Whereas, no automatic belove.
Forget the best logic,
Work out on Tajik,
With you, am discerning,
The sake of learning,
We aren't that clever,
With duties darling endeavor.
We need to manage well,
Every damn staggering cell,
Get moods not jump,
Whenever we dare hump.
Some can't eat the moon,
But you have a spoon.
Some can not plait hair,
But your hands are fair.
Some can't make lyrics sing,
Your reinforcing words for tongue,
Make my weary stress flee,
And the clock's tit-tat glee.
Broken hearts in flowing circuits,
Mending the crevices-- our undercuts,
Though far beyond horizons away,
Heart minds not to overstay.
Pleasure is not of you pleasing,
Every inconvenience is our darling tactics.
Each room for problem is your grace,
Let nothing cease the hearty choice.
Form the best habit-- way shared,
Counsels the wise, situations are tempting;
Counsel the Brilliants, wiseness is different.
Be real, sure, nothing last forever,
By training novice, you energize yourself.
See how far away, standing alone,
Less knowledge got your back, meanwhile
For all anyone lacks, keep pursuing...
Lest,
We
Must
Be
Of
Trust
To
Laugh
The
Best,
Believe
Me!
Hop a train
steam far away
from the zig jagged insane.
Dream far, far away from the media blitz
the mass hysteria
that devilish jab
the mask hysteria
of pure delirium.
billions to be raked in
from
the jab
the kits
the masks
the disinfectants
one-way hospital stays.
Gates
wants to jab us to death
force us to eat his shriveled meat
In so many words, he wants to cull the herd.
Gates
is blotting out the sun
thinning our bones
slowly turning us to dust.
Hells Gates
has stage 4 God complex
but God never sported an STD.
Hop a train to a faraway place.
Stepping away from the insane.
Rubbing elbows with the homeless and hobo.
AT least they're real.
Gather and recalibrate a lost spirit.
Meditate, go deep underground.
Into the twin mirror of self and selfless.
Slide away from their plastic charms.
Sliding away from all of them.
Becoming like an earthworm.
I'm aware of everyone's faults and downside.
They will tear me since my life is now a façade.
I was fully immersed in this level of self-love.
Philanthropy is tied to being aware and sensitive.
Everything was flawed, but I was "in the zone."
Many people grasped my illusion and shone.
We have hit obstacles in vast areas of quietness.
Forlorn begets both activeness and idleness.
My broken and weak lines have torn asunder.
I was overwhelmed with blazing, imperfect anger.
My final aim in ecstasy is to leap off something.
The white mask implies that I wore it for nothing.
My commitment was prompted by optimism.
Dreams of virtue drove me to strive for idealism.
You will be cracked no matter how firm you try.
Even on brink of anguish, hope thrives and lullaby.
Written: June 17, 2021
Writing Prompt - Flawed - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France