Long Masquerade Poems
Long Masquerade Poems. Below are the most popular long Masquerade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Masquerade poems by poem length and keyword.
In the virtual realm, we craft our stage,
Dressing to impress, with every calculated gauge,
Selfies abound, a curated delight,
A masquerade of perfection, in the digital light.
The cost of fame, a daily toll we pay,
To maintain the façade, in a never-ending way,
We compromise our purpose, lost in the haze,
Seeking validation, in a sea of digital gaze.
We compete with others, in a never-ending fray,
Wearing labels, showcasing wealth, in a desperate display,
Our beauty's on parade, a commodity to share,
Yet, in this virtual hall of mirrors, we're lost, without a care.
I search for motivation, a spark to ignite,
But find instead a void, a hollow, endless night,
Many live a life of artifice, a carefully crafted lie,
Under pressure's weight, their true selves, they deny.
Social media's grasp, a stranglehold so tight,
Forcing us into darkness, where depression takes flight,
We've forgotten our purpose, our hearts' deepest desire,
In the relentless pursuit, of likes, of followers, we conspire.
Life's now a competition, a never-ending test,
Who dresses better, who drives the fanciest quest,
Who's beautiful, who's light, in a world gone awry,
We've lost ourselves, in the digital sky.
But what's the cost, of this virtual throne?
A life of emptiness, a soul that's overthrown,
We're chasing shadows, fleeting, ephemeral delight,
And in the process, our true selves, we lose sight.
Let's break free from this digital chains,
And find our true selves, in the beauty that remains,
Let's rediscover our purpose, our hearts' deepest fire,
And live a life that's authentic, that's truly ours, that aspires.
For life's not about likes, nor followers' gaze,
But about living true, in every moment's phase,
Let's rise above the noise, and find our inner voice,
And live a life that's real, that's full of heart, that's our choice.
For us who can see but cannot feel
And sometimes feel away to the distant lands
No need to reason why,
Not that greenery is always innocent,
Or tuxedos are mannequins of masquerade,
Behind the scenes and behind the satin,
Are tales of love and tails of betrayal,
But even then, it is wanted..
Is knowledge of all is all?
Or mountains scaled are relinquished,
For deeper seas of hollow intrigue?
Confused are us,
Who do not reason why,
The lice in life
Do not migrate to the velvet jackets,
Or virtuosity in diamonds
Are better than cheese under the banyan tree..
The want of a Canoe,
And to become another of the same kind,
Are fulfilled as I have mine,
Impatient I am,
How do I reason why,
When the heart wants crystal sunshine,
And green that is only grass,
Rainy rummage in the time of woe,
And love during Forever...
What is this ticking inside of me,
a heart that beats lesser than time?
I feel as though I have departed
into the halls of my own death,
life is but an echo
of footsteps fading
behind my back.
Am I too fat on life,
this trimming of me
is it to rid all but death?
I look into my own reflection
and see the fullness of years
laughing back, as if I was a joke,
yet I am a mere skeleton
of what I once was.
Is it an anorexic mind
trying to shed my own flesh
and spread me into ashless dust?
I was catholic, once
but parted to become something else,
is it that part of me, undernourished,
that feels the rest of me should starve?
Has something died and left me
only to masquerade as a life
where my own existence
is just a shadow cast
upon the ground?
What is this ticking inside of me,
a heart that beats lesser than time?
streets
passageways
gutters
shutters
roofs
squares
polished pipes
reveal
a masquerade of smells
of rooms
that dress
&
cling to memory
silhouettes
provide a screen
for
hips&thighs
so neat&amusing
to regard
in afternoons
of silence
distress ripples
twists
to surprise
in repose:
together flowers
an explanation
of the serious
&
profound
from gloom to bliss
devout
flesh approach
with warmth..
begone
the dim
&indistinct...
enfold aloud
depart
fatigue
people indifferent
to scarifice
until tears
& night
reappears
thus commisioned
clearer meaning
once forgotten..
unspoken
a fragment
of joy
around wonder
separates
amazement
through gratitude
become
appointed
amongst the select
grief
dry as dust
leaves the complacent
living
presses the tongue
of the prim
into a spell
of ignorance..
an apt chance
tolls
& passes
by
the bitter
deride
the inborn listen
as
enlightenment
lies
unspoken
the pleasant
cornerstone
happens by
the good..
with an inheritance
My world, cold and lonely
I flew too close to the sun
and scorched my wings
It left my love a thin veneer
laying on top of snow, my head bowed
staring into an opaque cold
Where crimson snowmen melt,
their ragged scarfs blowing away
tumbling across rusted fences, in lost meadows
where hearts played masquerade in the sun
Where blood dripped,
from my hands, cut by barbwire, I clutched
trying to flee the death of love's illusion
When I thought it was real
and dreams were a meal we would feast on
The world hypnotized and aloof
has an obscurity to it that blocks the sun
taking away its rising, leaving an ebony darkness
that a suture in time could never heal
as I succumb to a cold, barren world of tomorrows
6/5/17 contest Write me something deep and dark
ten words needed to use...aloof, veneer,opaque
crimson,masquerade,death,hypnotize,ebony,suture
obscurity
EGWUGWU
O black African mysticism
Ceremonial Masquerade
Droning in the deep rain forest
Among the hills
I salute you
With a clang of your machete
Scattering rays from sunlight!
O terrific African beauty
Fierce Masquerade
Charging the square to zest
Even with waist cord restraint!
Transcendent of human and spirit
Adhering to the call of Oja
The absorbing beat from
Ékwé, Ogénè and Ìchàkà
Gbam gbam dim dim gbam dim
Kom kom kororo kom….
The esoteric voice of Ìgbà
Which awakens the spirit
Of the black human race!
Egwugwu, spirit of the ancestors
Messenger of the gods
Ascended from Ani-mmo!
Custodian of the age long lore
Whose appearance
Helps the child retrace their root
And old men reminisce their past!
I used to think
Until the penny dropped
Upon my tinny little head
And then I stopped
As then and forever after
From that very moment on I knew
I could never no longer pretend
that which I did not to know before
Otherwise everything that which i
proceed to utter and so thereafter
comes out my mouth
Is no longer worth a penny thought
But and yet a lie for which I am at
some point
Bound to get found out for and caught
Only to be branded with the unsavory
nickname moniker of
Billy Liar
Pants on Fire
Mouth constantly smell's like soap
Doesn't know or could tell the truth
The only thing that comes out his mouth
Is either a lie or a most unfunny joke and
both should be taken with a healthy pinch
of salt
So as in order to masquerade and mask
the sour bitter after taste
Sadly both he and his lie's leave behind
in his wake
And worst of all is in actual reality he
really isn't a bad guy inside
In fact the only reason why people don't
seem to actually or choose to like him or
are able to find fault with is
Because he lie's and they can't seem to
fathom out why
And now the lie's have gotten so old
he now instead is seen as nothing
more than an endless tiering bore
Starry night sky above
--- starry night sky below ---
reflected in a restless sea:
twin nocturnal profiles face off,
touch nose to nose
--- share stars for eyes ---
the wind that meets the water.
Floating in darkness
the silvery moon rises -
intriguingly, inscrutably
--- dark side, light side
hidden from each other,
man in the moon ghastly.
Baleful lunar eyes hover,
looming mirrored,
awash in inky waves.
Glorious morning yawns.
Hidden somewhere in the firmament
she waits, and she waits some more,
leaning against the wings.
Beguilingly draped, she anticipates -
her next sweeping entrance.
...
All Creation
--- benign yet indifferent ---
gathers Her own,
draws them ever closer,
--- finely tuned, outrageously only approximate --- ,
the union of yin and yang.
Both tumble along as one,
--- celestial dice rolling ---
swept bobbing w/ the tide,
transcendence disguised,
transcendence revealed.
As you chase the melting mirage in the desert storm
I look at your evasive eyes permanently petrified,
see the void vision fixed in the personal frame.
As the shroud of devious dust spreads on sneaky you,
you wane in the waste land,
like the shrivelled shadow of the skeletal tree,
green once, but I know, you've lost your roots,
turned into a stubborn wooden entity.
Layer on layer the dubious design of deception
morphs into motif of masquerade mask,
the chameleon skin fashions your face
with the smoke screen, I can't see through.
The epitome of pretense creates the cloak of charade,
thwarts the rays of reality,
so, you make obscure onyx world of your own,
don't discern you turn into an ambiguous antique,
but I know, for I walk in the museum of masked people.
You build the bastion of enveloping emptiness
of abysmal abyss of your vagabond valley,
no window opens on the secluded sapphire sky.
The eradicated sunburst sequined sense
doesn't illumine your insipid isolation.
Your fixated mind remains fossilized in dark dereliction,
becomes slate slice of starless night.
You don't know why all the dreams disappear,
but I know, no rainbow ribbon wraps
your remote opaque heart,
for an obstinate object you become.
The ubiquitous vivacity ingrained in every story
gets the dormant light of the absolute truth,
yet each one is a tree on the thicket of diversity,
each one is a flower in the garden of plurality.
On my way towards the castle made of gold and silver
I saw something which made my stride falter
It was the sight of a child
Sweet, innocent and wild
She was like an angel
So beautiful, with the spark of a most precious jewel
Oblivious to everything around her
She danced, and danced, and danced to her own tempo!
Stopped I in my stride,
Wondering at the cause of this masquerade
A masquerade yes, for the child danced while no music was heard
The child danced and sang aloud
Was it part of a show, maybe a circus show
I wondered, how would she end, where would she go?
I stopped, right on my way, sat under the shade of a tree
And watched, her, this child, dancing to the tunes of mystery
The child cared not about me
She danced and danced for the sake of being free
She danced till the moon showed itself
She danced all night till dawn showed itself
Then, she stopped, looked at the skies and breathed out heavily
She was tired, but, she would start again, she said so humbly
She needed some rest
And that was when she came to sit next to me
Why do you dance that much I asked her
What is there to do in this world, sick with fever
She told me
While looking at me pointedly
People just run after their needs, satisfying their greed
People run after life at fast speed
Caring not to appease their soul
Why, life here in this world, does be so dull
If death does be the end of it all
Why, why should we care to run after castles of gold
Take the time, like me, to dance and glorify the skies
So mysterious, they do be there where the beginning of it all lies
Listen, she said, listen to the bells of angels
Listen to the call of Heaven
Listen, pray do listen
And dance, for they be the only true music, in this world, so fallen
Listening to that child,
I felt my stride getting all mild
I let go of my chase
And became, like her, a spirit living up to the rhythms emanating from space!
I dance whenever I hear the music
That one, being called as mystic
I dance and care not about anybody's opinion
For, they are all blinded by the false show of this world's oblivion!
30 Sept 2015