Long Mental images Poems
Long Mental images Poems. Below are the most popular long Mental images by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mental images poems by poem length and keyword.
Fantasy Fish In a Fantasy Ocean Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
From reality to imaginary,
Fantasized by unrestricted reason,
Mental images sink below the ocean,
These are the aquatic creatures this season.
This gigantic body of water,
No longer blue with a green tint,
Has become a nature mystery,
Now a deep purple aquatint.
The cold-blooded creatures,
No more gills and no eyes to see,
Pectoral fins connected to each other,
Making it very hard to flee.
Their caudal fin helps them swim,
It has grown six feet long,
With a measure of three feet in width,
Making the main fin very strong.
That is just my favorite fish, Bassy Trout,
I've seen thirty-five thousand more,
All unlike in nature and vibrant,
From global warming they have morphed.
Red, orange, yellow and blue,
All rainbows swimming in the purple,
Pink, green, cerulean and black,
Sleep all day, and at night nocturnal.
This is no dramatic day dream,
Or a strange obsolete hallucination,
I've sailed the oceans determined,
To see God's beautiful creation.
Written By: Laura Urbaniak
Date: November 18, 2015
The senses of a nurse are many.
They are used to help, heal, comfort and console.
The healing "touch" we strive so hard to find initially soon becomes second
nature.
The ability to relieve pain, even if we have to cause a little in the beginning.
The constricted tightness of pedal edema determined with a single finger.
The quick heel tap upon a newborn babe that brings forth a quick, sharp cry.
The ability to discern the pulse of life, yes or no?
A nurse will see many thing through her career, some good, some not.
The yellowed skin of jaundice, a raging case of cellulitis, the cyanotic lips and
nails of a lunger, or the tears streaming down the cheeks of loved ones as the
final breath is drawn.
A nurse's ear is tuned to many things, some, all at once.
The rush of life giving air into the lungs, the bowels as they awaken after surgery,
the constant blip of the weak heart in the ICU, silent words not spoken by a
stroke victim, or the prayers, both silent and spoken of a grieving widow.
The nose of a nurse knows many scents.
From the fetid pungency of the neglected suppurative wound, the distinctive odor
of a UTI, G.I. bleed, and C-Diff, to the freshly powdered neonate, that brings forth
the mental images of our own children, the fresh bacon in the cafeteria after a
long hard night and the deliciously seductive scent of fresh coffee at all hours of
the day.
Lastly, the innate sense of a nurse that she learned to listen to early on, whether
it be a deafening roar or a feeble whisper in her soul, she listens to them both
innately, and acts upon them, sometimes, not knowing why, unable to explain.
The senses of a nurse are strong, nurtured and developed as an extension of
her being.
Form:
Proving a point! An exaggerated ending
I see - I am drawing conclusions
An overstatement! Influential indeed
An extravagant means of spreading viewpoint
Ah! I write - I use it to exclaim
I end my proven thoughts with ability
Drawing attention to the written word
I see - you see ! You get the message I am sending
May it be imagery or reality , let there be reasons
With culture and thus cultivate the weed
Again with creation , a proven value and point
I write - we write - exclamation we claim
Gliding with the pen , word after word with agility
Fine motor skill development - and with an IQ
A beauty of language and never too absurd
Writing beauty with exclamation
I must say ! Complex for you still
I see the wisdom! Do you see the point?
Picturesque ! Vocabulary at its best
Again I proclaim the mental images
Astounding! To be exclamatory
And I thus, I see! my visions clear
My exclamation point! very clearly dear
When I read - I then seek the truth
Looking for the point - I still draw conclusion
That the exclamation therefore beauteous it may be
Not only proved a point! It may stupify me
And I know you are in there in your head
Truly listening to what is said?
He nods - she winks - I guess its true
The beauty of exclamation is really becoming of you
And I see imagery - I see rhythm
We teach - you listen - you write the words
And punctuate - I still amazed
That it will astound you too - silence is golden
You learned - the exclamation at its best
Sometimes may be used with some degree of protest
And in your expressions this I see, it stimulates
And indeed - with beauty it articulates
Wow! The point when used in prose
The words are brilliant and the point then rose.
I'm visualizing! I am seeing objects
Mesmerized - my hypnotic state I appeal
Astounding! My pupils dilate at the vivid personality
The dreams I dream. They are not real
Night after night, sleeping with the twilight
It's extreme - frequently I see spirits
I am with the dead , halos on my head
I go into REM - I remember, too
All the pictures that I asleep, then view
I capture images - I slur - I speak
I tremble through each dream so weak
I wake - the superficial reality
I've taken control - what a calamity
This is real - these eyes saw the light
The lenses cracked the picture at dawn
I woke - I see - my dream died
I ponder - thee kaleidoscope of hues
I say in REM if I could only choose
Only a figment of my imagination
And yes utmost sure of exaggeration
The day goes by - I smell a garden
I walk the paths. I see sunlight
I make it through he day - welcoming the night
I pause , I yawn! Deep, deep ,deep
Wow! I again sleep! Mental images in my brain
Seeing things - I say - I remember them
Once upon a time - WOW! Here we go again
It's superficial - Don't you know?
But wait! The theory is it real?
Freud discovered what I might think
The elephant is pink- ink blots in my head
I'd rather wake and enjoy instead
My gardens and I pick the bouquet
Tossing this - I'd then thou wed
And matter of fact that perfect marriage
De ja vu! If only one knew, I'd see
That REM is haunting me - be it then be
To wake! And realism I accept! WHEW
WOW! Til death do us part, the ghost I wed
With the halo significantly on my head
I am an angel! I am reality. I now see
This superficial life I live vividly.
I walk the gardens sometimes in my dreams
And relationships die it always seems..
A breeze blows through the budding branches of
the tree near the riverfront close to a boardwalk.
It's daylight, but through my eyes everything is tinted
with an azure gleam.
Like a filter for a photograph, it seems so surreal.
There are times when my mind sees through a greyscale
as well.
When that happens, time slows down exponentially.
Nothing moves as it should.
Like multiple shots in rapid succession in the camera of my memory.
Jerkily, shaking, quaking.... It spazzes so erratically like it has been sped up.
Perpetual night shade. Azure, navy blues, grey scale, sepia tones.
Filters.
A warning light mentally goes off as my mind captures another beautiful moment.
Memory Almost Full
The Journey Begins Contest
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
My transit began not too long ago,
My life had headed in directions,
So unclear, even to my own liking,
As my daily life of bombshells explode,
I ran in short distances,
Driving further away from consistency,
My direction changed that night.
I fell in love with the fire,
I had to burn,
In order to feel,
Something...anything...
Choices made from self pity,
Actions portrayed from insecurity,
And I bled...
...just to be alive.
See, that is only one part of my journey.
My life survived by making wise modifications,
My chains broke in March 2009,
And since then I have been determined,
To allow myself a fresh start,
Full of healthy mental images,
Getting drunk on happy moderation,
No mind altering chemicals would save me,
All the excess was swallowed whole,
This journey I have allowed myself to walk,
Brought me secure safety,
My conscience is finally free,
All my pain towards others,
And anguish inside my insanity,
Broke in a million of tiny pieces,
This new way of life is a gift,
Blessed with precious jewels,
Allowing surrender granted for my soul.
Now I have dreams,
Real dreams..
With real connections granted,
All my lessin's,
Turned into blessin's,
Now I sleep.
Now I care.
Now I live.
I am living my road less traveled,
I needed my wheels in motion,
In order to keep a journey so free,
By staying strong and being grateful...
...just to be alive.
Written By: Laura Urbaniak
Date: November 13, 2015
(Monkey Shines on Typewriter)
Monkey dreams, sex, more sex,
Banana nice too,
Once in a while!
Tastes better though
When cute butt peels for me
Too much rain,
Smell like stale carpet
Who will groom me now?
Something big comes,
Sure not stinky me!
Haul my ass up tree!
Dominant males
Chest thumping braggarts
Really stink I think!
Whoo Whoo Whooee!
Cute butt three trees over!
Maybe she wet too
No notice stinky me
Mistake me for brother
Until too late! Whooee!
Oh Wow! (thumping chest!)
Sweet, sweet, sweet, treat!
Was it good for you too cute butt?
Oh yes, right there!! Hmmmm!
You can groom me anytime!
Brian Johnston
November 1, 2014
Poet’s notes:
This poem started out as a joke on my current poetry contest that has the Challenge Title – ‘Words – The Heart of Imagination.’ I asked myself if monkeys have no words, but do have imagination like Bri Edwards claims to have in his poem (even without words), and I was translating these mental images in a monkey’s brain into English words as a kind of poem, what would it look like?
Bride You, Groom Me also brings to mind the famous line from the first Tarzan movie after Tarzan saves the beautiful blond Jane from certain death and takes her to his home in the trees swinging on vines with Jane over his shoulder..... He says 'Me Tarzan, you Jane!' Surely the greatest understatement of all time!
The Iris - the spectrum in my glistening eyes
Beauty be that of rainbow hues on my face
Pigments painting mental images in my brain
Bewitching in art- coloring this my world
Enchanting creating the beauteous hues , I trace
I conclude - the beaming shades of awe
What a beauteous phenomenon perplexed wondering why?
The wonder amazed in the pupil of my eye
Visions - seeing the glamorous trees
I paint the birch flows with the black and white beauty
Thus I also see shades and the bark so prominent
Luscious the white - the ivory embedded in my mind
And the branches of the willow also flowing with the wind
With the breeze on my face - and the autumn leaves we find
Ah - gardens - flowers prominent too of hue
Bouquets of roses reflecting on you
I see the mountains - I see the waters
Still tracing the reflections in my id - my mind
Mentally I see blossoms - I see a solid rock
Of which to stand - God bless our land
May we walk paths feeding our eyes with colors
Predominant - Imagery now , I see the light
Painting the pictures in the beauty of daylight
In my world thus I appreciate and this I love
With the sunrise too in my eyes , from skies above
I am walking in life with God side by side
Instilling thoughts in my mind inside and outside
And may the world be always glistening
With thoughts in mind that God is always listening!
I'm a dreamer.
Do not snap me back to reality...
I wish to linger
in this sublime realm
called imagination.
It's not a faraway destination.
I close my eyes
and I'm there,
and all cares and woes
are in my rearview mirror.
It's a paradise,
a safe place to be,
a home away home
that I escape to
when the real world feels
like an asphyxiating prison.
Do not snap me back to reality...
because it means
snapping my leviathan wings.
I wish to fly
in my imagination.
It gives me free reins
to roam in it's verdure.
There is so much beauty and wonder there.
Tangible are all the things
I can't perceive with my five senses.
Dreams,
Possibilities;
all that could be
are magnified.
I vividly envision them;
Everything is illuminated.
Do not snap me back to reality...
I see all my excited unborn children
catch and release butterflies in the field,
of my imagination, and I join them at play.
I see my loved ones alive
and commune with the long deceased.
I have the power and control
to create, to explore, to discover.
I can mold and shape
emotions, thoughts
and mental images like wet clay.
I can see the blueprint
to build my future.
Ah, the world...
of imagination!
Do not snap me back to reality...
I'm a visualizer.
Feel the year-end mood
Rainy punctuation,
Wetness all around
Touch of strange passion
Words stretch away,
New permutations
Here the watcher
Stretches out waiting,
Touch of wonder
Feel the pulse
Of mental images,
Poise of new voices
I wait to know
Some surge of feelings,
Blend of new rhymes
When rhymes fail
To rhyme in time,
Awkward lines distort
Discard the fullness,
Be as empty,
Ready to be full
Words act defiant
Accessory to murder,
Creative impulse dies
Yet words make
A measure that fits,
Ordinary excavations
Be unafraid then
When muse is absent,
Time for meanderings
Poetry is best written
Fresh as a peach,
Eaten for pleasure
Verse or no verse
Distant echoes call,
Stanzas feed compact
No need to ask
Why this ash and dust,
Let the fire burn
If you must know
Death's at the door,
Dye or die anon
Do not go beyond
That unknown sea,
For life calls to you
Christmas here
Tropical promontory,
Crumbling facades
Soon this old year
Must die to resurrect,
Phoenix reborn again
Only three more days
Till a new year
Arrives at the doorstep
Soul journeys feed
Wonder and wander,
Return to sender
Leon Enriquez
28 December 2014
Singapore