Long Mind's eye Poems
Long Mind's eye Poems. Below are the most popular long Mind's eye by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mind's eye poems by poem length and keyword.
You ask of me silence as I Rome
Saint peters square gathering hymns
beneath Di Vatican where Satan sits
in solitude a prisoner of haste awaiting
a time to live a time to give malice a
wretched sea urchins filled with rapture
borrowed by solace envy kackling carny
unfolding aimlessly becoming nothing in the
eyes of God sending chills of fear weathered
under the soil sandals of the child of God wrath
behold the tyranny engraved over the watchers
minds eye calling to pontius pilates consciousness
professing goodness portraying the death of Christ
from a morbid dream shared by his wife come to me
now seek truth return void from your sinful actions
hatred devoured love conquered an yet I am still here
the roaring tides rolled in anger
sat beside me nothing else as I
began to slowly slip into my self
consciousness consoling my inner
most thoughts catering to a rather
chafe metaphor beseeching counsel
embracing righteousness anxiously
covenanting bitterness wildly tamed
emotions creating solitude a vague
rapture mastered my minds eye
withering madness sunk into a sultry
need for wrath in a strange time of day
capturing malice reaching morbidly
for candid cries the seas mist kissed
the shore once more balancing upon
fragile shoulders of vintage broad banks
slashing stone into the rivers edge
entering myself hence soothing the Nile
Written 7-16 -2022 by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Compromise
(in the early sixties)
Written: by Miracle Man
11-11-2019
Oft times I’ve faced those,
consumed with rage.
Sometimes I allowed myself,
to enter into that stage.
Compromising then,
was such a massive load.
I thought “My way or the highway,
and you can pick the road”.
In those adolescent years,
I didn’t take others bunk.
Because in my minds eye,
I was “tougher than stewed skunk”
What another was thinking,
I gave scarcely a hoot,
Because the coffee I drank,
“would raise a blister on a boot”.
“Compromise makes a good umbrella,
but a poor roof”
James Russell Lowell
Blue- SPARKLES
from my twinkling eyes,
contrasting BLACK pupils to reveal to her my attraction!
Blue- you will no longer be the BEAT within my lonely spirit,
for lemon YELLOW citron eyes fill my shadowed corridors.
Blue- Your Midnight is scented with PUNGENT aromas,
I desire the brilliance of WHITE morning glories!
Blue- Allow the SALTINESS of her ocean to grace my tongue,
let me float upon tumultuous waves and gaze up at a SILVER moon.
Blue- so DESPERATELY felt,
revealing everything I long for,
yet I am doomed to see in shades of GREY
Her spirit Sparkles
with the ferocity
of a diamond black feline!
My heart beat skipping,
as I gaze into her lemon yellow citrine eyes.
The pungent aromas of pheromones enticing my being.
White passion pulsating deep within my minds eye.
I long to lick the saltiness from the small of her arching back..
Silver moon beams bathe the room and I relish what my eyes see!
Desperately I attempt to see beyond the shades of grey---
for the thing I desire most has always been,
COLOUR!
By Richard Lamoureux
Thanks for the challenge Tammy!
I beheld your frame in my doubting eyes
there was no way for me to
explain this to by brain.
How could my trembling hands want to
follow the trail,and explore your definition.
If I know you are taboo.
What damage could be done in my adoration.
Not put here I think, for my souls appreciation
I cannot humble myself enough to walk away
If my lust defiles you -I am certain
I cannot look away,
captured in the gleam of my eye,
It's not for me to decide
God our creator already
has said that lust is a sin
that starts in the minds eye.
I behold a sight that draws
me like a magnet to metal.
Shall I blame this on the devil?
Are my feelings evil?
My resources are feeble.
Signals received under complicated
conditions.
Waiting for your response to free me.
If I lose my soul -I will be lost forever
if there is such a thing
as the great beyond -- I will be doomed.
If I be true to my now,
as natural as it may seem.
Who will call the foul ?
I am waiting on your response to free me.
The virus of the unrighteous
has spread to the future..
We have become what we once hated
infuriated, that what's inside me is despised.
I have never supt of your essence.
Though I be penalized-God
who knows the score-When he
indicts me with this crime...
God who controls my emotions
my thoughts-Leaves this one to my charge.
fraught I am in this conflict-Shall I remain lost.?
Waiting on your response.
If we kiss now,
I cannot touch you in the future-
One day it won't matter about
Color age or respective gender.
We can love completely
without guilt or shame-
without the threat of
torture in a treacherous flame
One day love and lust will be the same.
It will all be fine, until then
I will wait with dubious mind.
They played with wild abandon
the colours splashing over canvas in thalo greens,
crimsons, and cobalt blues
they struggled hard
and lived frugally
well aware of
the tints and hues of life...
Monet and like minded creativly blessed
helped to shape our idea of art
our impressions
from which cubism had to depart-
my love is for those flowers that burst onto the scene
golden stamins
and a beautiful blue that you might only seem as in
a dream...
they stand regal and marvelous in my minds eye
beautifullly tall
as hummingbirds they call-
These impressionists felt rather than thought
expressed their hearts and souls
on a canvas of white
taking us places
where sometimes was a bit of a fright
such as the silent scream
that talks to my core
of the chilling world
and much much more.
Walking on a narrow road
leading no to where,
wanting to roam
with nothing in sight
dark clouds drift
across my path
slicing rays of sun
warming my promised lands
bright dreams break
cascade along the way
fracturing falling across my face
fighting my shadows
dying into the gray of my days
somewhere into the distance
there is thunder
deep and full of dread
dread of what is coming
my light fades away
a little at a time
walking a narrow road
through darkness and light
oppressive filling
my wells of deep divinity
walking on the edge
of the magnetic beast
walking into my depths
my oblivion my infernal feasts
full of dark things
running from the light
the light of my sanity
full of lumbering things
wanting, wasted, willowy things
glow pale, aware
bone white brittle
blood rimed eyes
my shadows run
each a mark of history
silver moonlight shines
full of sorrow and symmetry
lost loves and dry things
in the shadows of my inner sight
I see black leather wings, eyes blind
I stand and listen to the oncoming thunder
seeing the figures lit by lightning
flickering silhouetted
behind my minds eye
made of sticks and bones lumbering
a harbinger of things to come
I am walking on a narrow road
at the edge of oblivion
wanting to jump
waiting to run nowhere to go
as memory and pain comes
Poetic Art Review ~ I call P.A.R.
HANDsomely hung, a stunning frame
surrounds my vision from my minds ~ eye
contact with an empty spot, upon a white wall
rendering, a picture ~ from my vision
I view into my crystal ball
Only one hand from wrist-on-up,
Knuckles down - Fingers spread-wide,
holding a clear-transparent Sphere...
simply resting there,
Facing me, slender finger-tips
Do clasp a crystal ball
Viewing this with my analytical
Eye-sight, looking right-
Into a translucent molecular cue,
I did view
This flawless vision of ME, reversed
Right back, as a mirror reflects an exact
Image of oneself, so real to my eye
‘I see', I'm sitting there erect in this Ball
my hand ~ a reflected hand, resting, see
knuckles on the bottom part, also…
inside the spherical Cue, I have had seen
Thumb - to thumb an pinky-to-pinky,
my outstretched arm with palm-up…
extends, pretty-nifty…
inside-outside HANDS, barely touching
between those two image-hands, a space
separating a knuckle from that palm…
one outside hand is holding round crystal-ball,
a ceiling inside curved-round, see at top
one window at along far-side provides a feel,
of open-space, patent leather chairs,
are real,~ sprawled about…
a coffee table, book-shelves hung…
concave so rounded, my-eye did span around
All this inside a Vision-Framed,
Sphere-Ball, held in a single-hand
With pictures within...
My visional crystal ball...
'a picture hung on my wall'
This time my vision has no moral at all…
No conclusion, simply,
A poetic ‘Vision on my wall'.
Flowers and Butterflies when looked upon brightens the days and nights in our daily lives through our eyes. Flowers and Butterflies causes us to experience beautiful vibes that helps keep our Spirits alive. Children can become wise as they look upon Flowers and Butterflies! Flowers and Butterflies soothes the mind and pleases the eyes. Wise ,wise: It is wise to look upon Flowers and Butterflies. Flowers and Butterflies are beautiful and lets us see some of the beauty that God beholds with his eyes in our Human eyes. There is pleasure and it is wise to look upon flowers and Butterflies. Tip toe through the Tullips with me.We can see Flowers and Butterflies when we tip toe through the Tullips and become Romeo and Juliet! We can be healed inside when we mediate on Flowers and Butterflies. Can you feel those vibes meditating on Flowers and Butterflies? Daisys brighten our lives and we realize that the dead seem to be alive pushing up Daisys from down below the surface of the Earth: That function has some kind of worth. Does The Holy Bible tell us so? Flowers and Butterflies can brighten the light that does exist in The Minds Eye! We will understand it bye and bye. That is no lie.I think it is good to be healthy wealthy and wise and enjoy some of God's creation and share and care and see what is good for the rich and the boys and girls in the hood: We could if we just would. Flowers and Butterflies are good for any eyes that can see whether it be human animal angel or anything alive like you and me.We need pleasure no matter whom you are or who you may be! God is wise.Butterflies fly to Flowers and Flowers give and that helps the Butterflies and the Flowers to continue to live: They both take and they both give!
the untimely measures gathered beneath solid
structure as hands fold the numeral gestures
gravely carved throughout the roman empire
while the daintiness of quiet muse's reciting playful
tunes through a calming poetic mannerism while
surrounding hidden notes while mastering an
illuminating symphony of words at times within
a dimly lit sphere of complete solitude ravishing the
minds eye capturing the purity of this brilliant light of
sheer salvation mending together so evenly like a woven
cloth of the unspoken speaking vividly to the quiet
understanding while the mere knowledge explored
beyond the galaxy only to return from the universe
with a boomerang effect craving matter seeking
wisdom an yet the core foundation of such yearning
still sits deep inside the heart of the muse stored
there as the mighty masons physically cannot chisel
away the outer surface once the muse has sealed
this beautiful masterpiece away for a certain time
of reflecting on poetry of the heart while the soul awaits
dances to confuse the heart into releasing such a divine
art form quickly an yet in that very moment the muse takes
holds of this fascinating poetic memory in time keeping it hostage
literally a mind written keepsake with the hope of savoring creating
a more in depth harmonic language of rhythm melody and words
hence the ability to enhance this craft into a profound literature that
will someday manifest into greatness a complete understanding for any
and everyone who simply picks up the book and desires to reads it