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.
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
The time is here for me to take my journey to the sun
For spring will soon arrive and full of life my time has come
Winter months spent all alone, whilst bubble wrapped inside my home
Away from freezing frost and ice and winters gleaming snow
Sleep restored my equilibrium, essential for my golden glow
I gently wipe sleep from my eyes dressed in my best attire
For I am the prominent member of the annual springtime choir
One final look before I leave; my manifestation inspires elation
Outfit complete as outside I peep, nearly time for the spring celebration
Metamorphosing into a daffodil; a golden gift for all to see
Gilded lights after cold winter nights; yellow trumpets full of joie de vivre
Written 23rd February 2019
Contest: Standard Contest 185
Sponsor: Brian Strand
1st place
(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.
I Wish I Could Tell You
By: Sarah McFadden
Grade 9
I wish I could tell you
How anxiety holds me in its chains,
Grasping me in its iron clutches,
How the shackles of hopeless, never ending fear
Dig into my ankles.
How sometimes it feels like there is rope wrapped around my chest
Growing tighter and tighter
Until I am choking on my own strangled screams,
Raising a white flag to my demons that won’t cease war with me
I wish I could tell you about
The black hole sitting at the pit of my stomach,
Draining me of my happiness,
Yet somehow leaving me as a shell of my former self,
As if everything that made me able to smile or laugh
Had been scraped out with a knife,
Leaving me with a sadness that burns like
Flames licking at the walls of my chest
How I haven’t cried for real in a long time,
But every time I shed a tear it burns my face like acid,
Bubbling, sizzling
How any spark of joy is evanescent,
Quickly metamorphosing into the deep despair
That I have come to know very well
I wish I could tell you that I’m okay,
That I am not broken beyond repair,
That I can ponder upon the world and see
Chances, opportunities, and reasons to be happy,
That I can think about the beauty of life
And not so much about the beauty of death,
But I made a promise that no matter
How many times I lie to myself,
I would never lie to you.
Mystified in the labyrinth of time,
dug in the desolate desert of deprivation,
one doesn’t discern in the psychic space
what in the nebulous abstract notion
the rationale of living the moments,
people of speculative perception
define as the articulate art of living,
sensed in the free-will sunshine
within the sanctuary of seraphic oasis.
The survival struggle thrusts
the languished life into abysmal warren,
breaking intrepidly the fading frame
of the fleeting future configured in fragile time,
the shards are thrown
in the debris of dismal denunciation,
unable to rise from the chasm,
even if arduously attempted ad infinitum.
Failing to invent the mirage of escape,
the flicker of hope remains unkindled
to light up the obscure forward end
of the dark tunnel of tormenting time,
but self-preserving retrospective instinct,
lingering in the contrived confine of the past,
flashes in the corridor of memory,
motivates to move desperately
to the fated fantasy of the future.
The sordid present time smothers senseless
in the nightmare ambiance of anguish,
metamorphosing the listless life of vacuity
into a consumed candle in the timeless dark night.
As the demeaned essence of extinguished existence
is denied the reviving rays of the rising sun,
convoluted conscience stimulates the soul
to get suffused with the radiant ethos of eternity,
travel in the tunnel of time.
Dandelions poke their heads up in Spring,
as snowdrops, daffodils, and tulips show.
Their buds bloom and spread when warm breezes blow,
hinting at what Summer's weather will bring.
Dandelion roots are a stubborn thing,
evolved to sprout early and swiftly grow.
And they generally push through the snow
long before the songbirds return to sing.
Yellow polka-dots dapple fields of green
until they merge into a golden fleece.
And florets soon don white cottony shawls,
while seed-laden parachutes flee the scene.
Metamorphosing into a release,
dandelions shape-shift into blow-balls.
WE'RE THE MATRIX OF LIFE
'Dark times will reflect how bright you are.'
Challenges will amplify you as a star.
Darkness creeps in shadows deep,
A glimmer of hope, our spirits keep.
In shallow depths of the darkest night,
Our inner light glitters and shines bright.
Through trials faced since when we were born,
We rise high like a gun, never to be torn.
As stars that twinkle in the vast expanse,
Our brilliance dances in the cosmic balance.
For we are the matrix and heartbeat of life,
With strength and resilience, we conquer strife.
In our unity disunity we stand strong,
Interconnected like nothing can ever go wrong.
Souls symphony, in this sphere we all belong.
Through every hassle, we find our way,
Transforming our hussle in order to make hay,
Metamorphosing our darkness to radiant day.
So embrace the shadows, they never stay.
For in each dark moment, a lesson is seen,
Elucidating the path to the brightest scene.
Like a sunbeam, let your authentic self shine,
For in your uniqueness lies your flair, so divine.
Dark times reflect the light within our core,
A hint that we're capable of so much more.
We're the matrix of life that holds the key,
To unlock the "glowry" that's meant to be.²7
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
Copyright ©? 2nd December 2023.
The sun disappears much, much later, an hour later to be exact.
This translates into having more daylight and a longer afternoon,
To watch the strolling peacocks in the park, and to have more fun
Admiring the baby bulbs metamorphosing into flowers at night.
The lily flowers are most of the time ephemeral, lasting hours,
Rarely a few days before changing into leaves, which eventually
Will be dried up by the warm air or the rays of the sun. Beauty
Is temporary, so enjoy the spring season and the summer flowers.
I have vivid memories of the shedding cherry tree, which brought
The beauty of spring in front of my house in the dead-end street.
Oh! I miss the atypical moment, when the green lawn was not neat.
Sometimes, the entire top of the hill was littered with falling flowers.
It was strange to sniff the unusual scent of the weather-beaten petals.
Oh! I miss the hours sitting on top of the window like a distraught cat.
Copyright © March 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
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.
Written: February 27, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dwindling diamond daub, an amber
glittering glow
diaphanous verism of glass
and yet…
wreathed in wisteria-washed linden
a glimpse of
moon-pearled butterflies
fluttering beyond
seventh sky
fine shone ivory organza
faintly floats
in flowy grey garment
because...
the mirror failed
to release her
Watch the whispering wind
of crestfallen Luna
serenade sonatas to
the saffron sun,
elegance bewilders as a spell
whilst imbued in
Tuscan fuchsia flowers
plated in opalescent enamel
healing in her
sanguine sanctuary
& silvery smooth skin
she is the spirit of Aphrodite
soaked in ivory color
her tears metamorphosing
of...
ogdoads
daffodils.
Venus waltzing with Earth
zeal of unbreakable bond,
floral fragrance felicity
an ageless love tale
sweet lullaby tweets
billets-doux
texts spanning the world
bien sûr we love
extravagance in empathy
exulansis excluded eternally
hunting for heavenly harmony
swirl in seraphic space
as Dahlia sighs reach
esoteric eyes of lotus Luna
breathing silence
virtuoso ululation
for...
a friendship circle.