Long Metamorphosing Poems
Long Metamorphosing Poems. Below are the most popular long Metamorphosing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Metamorphosing poems by poem length and keyword.
Another Day...Another Accursed Blank Screen
Ma wink'n and blink'n
mind nod yet awake,
nor insights keen,
asper ho hum usual, this
(day-glo bull leave
me you) after noon,
(October thirtieth
two thousand and eight teen),
mine myopic brown
marbled occipital orbs
fixate upon a
lone blinking cursor -
hooping such intense stare
will magically glean
a divine comedy,
or even mediocre
shaky spear writ tragedy, none
the less letting thoughts
glom (cess) pool like
into some elusive essence,
finding me madly chasing
(feebly, lamely, queerly
and ridiculously
likened to a teen
age paramour) intriguing,
nattering, and wordlessly
spellbinding notion
all the way to Abilene,
perhaps metamorphosing
into a topnotch
poem (ska lean),
swiftly tailored harried
style even out rivaling
the best newsy
Lake Woebegone fabulist
(formerly Nordic European)
scribes, that juiced might earn
me some crisp
legal tender green,
yet impetus to write,
NOT predicated on ram
ping up checking account,
which primary queen
tis essential money source
of mine to pay bills
appears extremely lean,
and thus apologize if
any hint of desperation
(PULL EASE pledge to
Matthew Scott Harris charity)
seeps extemporaneously typing
this poetic expression,
when financial resources
picked bone dry clean,
and me fanciful
thoughts cannot help
wishing for miraculous
intervention tub bring,
a raft of smiley faces
tomb eye gentle mien
such as receiving
an anonymous bajillion
dollars donated (tummy)
from tennis scene legend
(in her own mind)
aery Billy Jean
King, whose near
exhaustive earnings -
at least compared
to thy germane mein kampf
(accrued during - her mist
starry re:us horse sing around)
straw berry fields
forever hay day
with tangerine trees,
and marmalade skies
completing tennis
(tense) backdrop against
engendered match with
the late Bobby Riggs.
Crystalline teardrops formulate into sorrow
It emerges into delicate exquisiteness before the sunrise of tomorrow
Sparkle my lovely darkness and captivate me with delightful, dainty dissonance
Feed me your radiance and bring me to evanescence pastures from a distance
Play my fearful, frivolous spirits like a violin with missing strings and other things
Prey upon me like a preying mantis, metamorphosing with unbroken wings…
Erupting turmoil…toiling into madness
Festering in unbearable sadness gladness
Swallow my fear with your mouth of mesmerizing melodies…relieve my anxieties
I wallow into the miserable, abyssal black hole of minus a thousand thirty seven degrees
Gracious apprehension is sprouting and shameless tension is growing tremendously
Until I uproot it…until I believe that I can go through the weeds of tribulation, although abrupt doubt drowns me
Please, please ease my mindset,
Blossoming avarice and utter regret
You gave me a new reason to believe in the light once more…I surely soar…
You save me from being enslaved by wretched negativity to the core
More and more soreness and painful laughter fills our wise days and thrills our childish ways to be exact
The dream I dreamt long ago is the vision of woe I can’t let go of
Drifting above and lifting below…someday, our opposites will attract
I scream in the silent chamber of my mind’s eye, my darling love
My poetry doesn’t matter to you anymore that I have been writing for too many years
I’m sure I suppressed you by my stressful weight of my emotional baggage
I fought away your fears and tranquilized your taunting tears…pleasant sanity heals us with cheers
I held your hand and adored your touch upon my own, giving me a relief package
I fear I will never let go if you let me know how you feel towards me deep down…I lived to like you in this town
I hope I don’t chase you away by my unforgivable, ugly frown
I hope I don’t freak you out or discourage you with my many problems that I wear upon my head like a crown
Your lovely, clever and precious name is my favorite proper noun
Your rather fearless, heartfelt name
I never want to put to shame,
But I became undone
The moment you were gone
I trace my existence back to
Iye mwen N’ogie (My great Mother).
You see when I was but a foetus
In a womb of the *****sapien whom I will
Later call my mother.
I lay brooding, developing and
Metamorphosing in structures just as the
Creator had designed it.
Though she knew me not
She loved me with every fibre of her beign,
She protected and nourished me,
I felt her love in many ways I can not now expound.
Her very heart beat made sweet rythmical
Music with mine,in syncronyms and
Symphonies that I would love to hear again.
And when I came into this world of
Tragedy,turmoil and poverty,
She raised me as a child with prodigy,
Even when my voice was naive to this
New world I was yet to know,
Her love for her child sprung out
The very first word from my soul,
MAMA, I had said sub consciously.
In return she cuddled me and called me
Her own TATA,everything I had
She got me, including my very first BATA,
L’are ovbimwen,ohanvben gbue ah?
( Come my dear child,are you hungry)
She would ask me.
Even when there was nothing left.
She had sold off all her belongings
Until I was all she had left,
She provided all my needs, so I won’t
Go into theft, even before papa left …
She is my love,my friend,my all,
My alarm clock, she slept late and woke up
Early to go ‘look for what I’d eat’.
Iye n’ ma gio ohanvben gb’ Omo.
(The mother who never let her child starve)
If they were times I made her cry,
Now I regret it.
But her love for her child is unending.
The type of love God shewed the Israeli people …
As time pass, we had a certain visitor,
One,who humans never welcome in their
Dwelling place.
He came and changed
Every thing like a deadly hurricane …
Iye had no strength left in her to fight him off…
So she gave up the struggle,it was her time.
As she closed her eyes in death.
I could hear her voice saying,
‘Ovbimwen e ghi vie m’ha miegbe’.
(My child do not cry,we shall meet again).
??
B Praize
X
Pa Shakespeare (GHOPS)
Happy Birthday Prayze ?? ??
I
You stare silently squinting
through your stained glass panes
Pulling aside sapphire drapes
of somber samite and organdy
Lo, gazing mesmerized
a quixotic moon--
blithely blows kisses,
wryly winks
and coyly smiles--
Yea, a light seesaw of a day
of ecstasy and spritely delight--
now wanes to a quiet evening tune.
II
Transfixed
musing through a haze of
window panes
and now the past pains
enter your mind amidst
a Rorschach flowing panorama
of fluid specters--
a pentimento painting
of myriad weaving days
metamorphosing
into myriad mellowing nights.
Now mirthful,
the moon merrily
mills reticent
clouds--a star
clustered plight.
The meeting with Morpheus
--wondering of his mood--
cheery and cherry,
one hopes.
III
In the soft security
of your pliant bed--
your cheek cradled
in thoughts of the
day's blithe tread--
a voice and vision from the past--
"night night
nighty nite
sleep tight".
IV
Dreaming..
in a dream
Floating in the night skyscape
. . a phantasmagoria
of sensual sights and sounds. .
riding in a catamaran of gilded silk. .
over the still quiet town.
There's the tailor's shop,
the market place,
and the gurgling fountains of the park.
On to other lands afar. .
the Taj Mahal. .
the Great Wall of China
the winged maneuvers of a lark
V
Dreaming . . .
reeling red and yellow
sea horses
roaring
over tree tops . . .
mermaids samba agog
with cheshire cats to the
music of Sergei Rachmaninoff .
shooting stars
of blue purple catching
bolts of lightening
VI
Dearest one
awake now
and stir . . .
To scents of frankincense
and myrrh . .
long linger in your cozy warm bed . .
with thoughts
tantalizing thy graceful head . .
Birds twitter
and herald yon
day's new light . . .
a new morn sun yields
cascading
delight
(alter knit lee tie tilled -
Field Day For A Nihilist).
Hunger for knowledge vis avis car ear ring
(and car rue ming) cerebrum formulated,
integrated, promulgated personal perception
to the point of no return, and inadvertently
brought to fruition basic, dogmatic, enigmatic,
fatalistic heuristic life lessons. The fabulist,
dualistic capacity averred viz Zoroastrianism
figuratively pitched this contemplative,
furtive, intuitive literate organic, realistic,
universalistic, wanderer yearning instinctive
modalities metamorphosing this quizzically
opportunistic, philosophically naturalistic,
officially matt tea real list tic, and sometime
prophesying prognosticating probing outlier.
As a nonestablishmentarian libertarian, joy
riding heretic, feasting dishabille bum, I
contemplated the capacity qua Duality
of human being to co-exist inside the
labyrinth of mental learning. Quite often
reconciliation between the angel of come
passion stood opposite intent (with
minimal effort to foment) malicious
intent toward evil. This constant tug
of war (within depths of psyche) perched
psychological state upon precarious pivot.
Balance between righteousness verses
barb bar rick ken of villainy engendered
warp and woof of noble might undermined
via ignoble, infamous injudicious threnody
thru the countless millennia, when many
an outstanding wizard served as a prime
mover and shaker to boost betterment
of so called civilized state with the bane
of anarchy, disintegration, gallimaufry
always in the vanguard. Manifold milieus,
which witnessed civilization rise and
fall became bereft of equilibrium be
tween forces of growth and decay.
The feature of intransigence (as a
free roaming derelict agent) and
dominant characteristic
of contemporary society.
Spare a thought
For buffaloes, bulls and bears groaning, mourning, starving
Under your collar don’t blow hot
Making rivers and rodents sad, carving
Space and time you don’t own
Encroaching on privileges animals and plants possess
In their comfort and discomfort zone
You dare to distress and stress
Best to minimize the plight
Reptiles and rabbits confront every morning and afternoon
With no morsels of grub in sight
As savannas and simians croon
Shambling in starvation style
Bulging bellies boast as labels of stables and fables of gluttony
For a convoy of jalopies cruising in single file
Pay last respect to Tony
Who’d passed on in pitiful poverty
Impecunious
Although in death no novelty
Comes through under the guise of ingenious
Crafting of manipulation
But you’d do well to sacrifice creature comforts to elevate the fate
Endured by long suffering trees and tigers whose daily nourishment ration
Ought to funnel a debate
On the injustice witnessed globally when a tiny few
Gorges on two thirds of world resources
With neither care nor clue
On the abuse fauna and flora sources
Suffer
Dwindle
Prefer
Decrease as the self satisfying spindle
Spins and spins
With little thought on air and water pollution
Pins
On environmental dissolution
Metamorphosing the Earth into a less habitable planet
Treated with disdain
Depleting the Earth’s net
Worth as polluters gain bargains again and again
Super profits
Turning a blind eye
To sarcasm skits, bludgeon bits and tendentious tweets
Lying inside a liberal lie
That all’s well
Environment concerns mean nothing
As imbalances and inhospitable elements swell
To spell doom unless you start caring for Mother Earth and her everything.
Sweet soul sister
'Pon summer's day in a sunny city in America
native-born is she, sweet sister of mine
Soulful big eyes so kind
An angelic face and cheeks of fuchsia
Rose the name should’ve given
They’d turn red when we played chase
Laughing aloud as we ran about our place, our home
Radiance, she owned, a climbing hybrid
Innocence and a joyful smile
She was a stunning flower, unassuming
blooming in all her glory
The beautiful child that I once knew
This I kept inside all the while
To some who grow up in a hurry
A life took that turn tout de suite
Sociopathic metamorphosing
When the thorns grew prickly, protecting itself
The crimson rose if plucked shall bleed
On a journey cataclysmic, tabula rasa
A seed, ill-natured unforeseen
Nature vs nurture which one should I believe?
Chilling vibrations keep on and on, running down my spine
I try forgetting you, as I pray for a way
Your unholy decline became the wind of change
Whilst an open path gifted unexpectedly
We spoke of the recent death of our father
As we caught up, an abrupt feeling left me
deflecting my life; a total mockery
Transcending joy and pain
Time heals they say that grief will lessen
It’s such a shame I’ve chosen to hold aloof
Yet time won’t let me rest
Although my heart bellows it’s best
My strength for this bereavement
diminishing, what’s left of you a catacomb,
a shrine buried in my subconscious
I try to put at ease these cries for help
Or are the cries Jesus telling me
There is no real solution
You are one of a kind, an exception
You must want Jesus too
Until then, with open arms
I will always be here for you
May you be safe, free from harm
Remember me, sweet soul sister of mine
The man must be a fool or an extra prudent who
Spreads around teaching that silence is gold
It has in it the real meaning of the world
And wise are those who keep silence when all around there is chaos
And advocates people to listen more and talk less
As in listening less risk is involved
And more opportunity of gaining it provides
Overlooking the precious art of talking
Even he goes on claiming that silence speaks volumes
Never taking into account that even in preaching the merits of silence
He uses words; he speaks a lot and creates numerous sounds
The paradox is amusing
But it turns poison to those who need support at the time of their troubles
In the time of oppression they all need is your voice
Your rising voice could frighten a dictator
Even a clamour could drive away a wrong doer
Let alone to those who are dying to hear your hello
When a silence admirer goes around provoking us to be silent
He forgets one thing more
That is the basic principle of life that teaches us that
Every situation of life has its levels, stages, steps and angles
To rise up to reach to its point of zenith
Or to go down to the its point of nadir
There are many steps to cross to understand a single point
Many stages has a single event to pass through
To realise its cause of occurrence
And that mono cause might have many angles to look at it to get a real shot
Let alone the metamorphosing phases of a single issue to talk about
Moreover, each mind has its own order
To reflect upon the essence of realization
In the higher order of prudence the screen demands to us
To reveal our thoughts
To give a clear the picture of life at the time of troubling haziness.
MIRIAM’S MOTHER
She was a beautiful woman
the color of coffee enlightened
by cream
Her multicultural mask gathered all
the credentials, all the climbing essentials
increasingly required for successful
ascent through the rugged topography
of the American Dream
For seventeen years
her purposeful stride, androgynous
demeanor, her ambiguous ambition and
intellectual poise sliced through our lives
with irresistible force, not as a knife or a
broad-axe or hatchet, but like a powerful
wind, its invisible motion clearly revealed
by the changing condition of objects
nearby! And then she was gone!
One day she returned, caressing a child,
as if a serious dancer emerging from sand
dunes perpetually shifting in some far
distant desert where culture and custom are
somehow defined by searing white light
from the immaculate brightness of an
indifferent star
“This is Miriam!” she said, as a rising
warm breeze discreetly maneuvered the
metamorphosing sands of the oasis
we shared
“And I am that I am!” she said with her love,
eternal, omnipresent, like the infinitive form
of the verb “to be” that forbids conjugation
in describing the essence of a transcendent
deity in some ritual proceeding
While continuing to speak, she never
stopped swaying, and without premeditation
she transformed herself into an external womb
so that she and the baby were increasingly fluid,
a curiously contained configuration of water
rhythmically lapping an invisible shore,
the baby asleep in the liquid milieu,
helpless and safe as if she had
never been born
Emanuel Carter
I'm making this a special affair, so soupers, chant my name.
This site is about to witness a poetic warfare, my favorite game!
My words will be like bombs over Baghdad, the couplets like an airstrike.
With this pen and pad, I'm metamorphosing into something godlike!
What? You can't comprehend? Don't understand what I plainly write?
I thought you were a genuine friend, but you're just a poetic parasite!
I'm gonna slam you till you leave the soup, so you need to "kick rocks."
I'm throwing you in a chicken coop, and manifesting into the poetic warlock!
So like 50 cents "I'll get the magic stick," so what you think about that?
How bout if I sex you like a lunatic, but first shave that hairy pussycat!
Better yet, you need to wax, because your hair gives you a helluva odor.
Never mind, I'll put anthrax on your tampax, and blow up your stinkin motor!
Damn someone throw in the towel, I have this poetess punch drunk!
She has this whole site smelling foul, so I need to kill this nasty skunk!
Have I embarrassed you yet? Are you tired of my poetic abuse?
I'm gonna bend you over and burn you with a cigarette right on your caboose!
Every souper knows I'm slam king, no one can touch my rhyming skills.
For a souvenir, I'm keeping your g-string - so run naked and head for the hills!
I better not see you posting, or I'll degrade each poem you write.
Your poems will be like marshmellows roasting, and I'll reach out to you via satelite!
*M. T. Now let me show you "God's among men with this pen!"
- Can I get a standing ovation for this slam?