Long Mira Poems
Long Mira Poems. Below are the most popular long Mira by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mira poems by poem length and keyword.
warm cinnamon angelic wings, I Landed
spicy sharp sounds leap white midnight sight
turmeric dust sprinkle songs peeling broken heart
coriander with red chilli crackling citrus smart
moody tempers evaporate thundering rage
stability sprung __ Reptilians slid pass mumbling
chameleons raising, grounding, cobalt circling
lemon juice pungent pour, I frequency Rooted
feathery futile arguments chomping mooted
grounded coconut angled angels gobble gummy hypnotic higher, lightning struck crack plum rack
shouting storms persecuted no more the core
stability sprung ___Reptilians slid away silky suck
creamy masala potatoes fried, touching embers
astralic garlic warded off denials, I Taught taut
raw caw cucumber cooled cities sunk no more
ground coconut oiling angels ate in apple sauce
told all we quest to fathom, tongues twisting
cinnamon are the wings flapping wrapping
voices direct us ___Reptilians slid into side hole crocodile raising, grounding, sherry grapes juicing
rose petals are portents, I died to ground Birth
anise in mortar crackle, befit expressions revere lemon juice drizzle no pain mincing garlic severe
brown chestnuts for pick in nick, tricky sticky
removing skins, voices direct us in rattling rain
cook in water then puree __Reptilians slid defeated
turtles tapping, gliding, rum brewing browning
butter beans melt, I cooked adding chestnut cherries with honey hope, voices direct us, be
masala potatoes fried burnt black, boisterous we sang, peppery taste no haste, touching embers
liquid thickens trusting cornflour ___Reptilians sliding salient, tongues twisting, eggs hatching
immerse vegetables in sauce reduce sorrow
miracles are expressions of Adoration, know
Mira ***
cles ****+****______sliding salient
are >>
tongues twisting {}{}{} express
Ions ~~~~~~~ of ___spice rice
I taught taut {}{}{~} ADORATION {}{}{~}
Reptilians slid underground
no order to miracles ***i died 2 ground BIRTH
they are natural occurrences
¡Ay, Borinquen!
Puerto Rico greets you first with sofrito
green pepper, cilantro, ajo
it sizzles like a drum roll,
pop-pop of oil in abuela’s pan.
Pernil hums slow,
sancocho thick as a secret kept between prayers.
The air tastes like hunger … and love.
¡Eh, tierra mía!
Listen …
the coquí keeps time with the tide,
congas talk back to the waves.
Salsa spills from open doors
bodies move like wind through cane.
A laugh- a clap- a heel to the ground
boom-boom, pa! boom-boom, pa!
The island don’t sleep … she sways.
¡Ay, mira eso!
Look how the sun kisses the sea,
painting gold over her blue dress.
Fish flash silver under glass water,
and the sky bends low to whisper,
“Welcome home, mi corazón.”
Colors here don’t fade — they sing.
¡Dale, abuela!
Her arms - soft thunder.
Her hug - drum and halo both.
She pulls you in till the world forgets its noise.
Sand trails your steps like a promise,
the sun warms your skin …
till you shine like honey.
¡Wepa!
Then comes the bite
pastelillos hot and bold,
cheese stretching like a song you don’t want to end.
Coco limber slides down sweet,
cold kiss on a summer tongue.
You close your eyes …
hear the drum again,
feel the island hum inside your chest.
¡Ay, Borinquen!
Every sense remembers you
every beat brings you back home.
______
\ /
my thoughts
have reached
your heart, li-
ke a solo star
that's wishe-
d on for mira-
cles. I pray y-
our well my lo-
ve, yet guarded wit-
hin my mind, my soul is
close. Like a star that gleam
in a flash we share the same
desires, though miles apart, so
now our bliss souls rest oceans away, our
fine love still shinning-----When my message
finds you at the shore line, I pr- ay you
read it in time, I admire you an- d adorn
you with my joyful tears. The da- y nice
to us, possibly this note will find you
walking bare feet along the shor - eline sand
a wine bottle among your feet un- expected
your soul will find me-----through light
years. I pray you place your love inside this
blissful star, return to the water,
and I will hope one day soon,
i get to hold you near~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
my soul ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
my gracious love~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
one day~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
they sit outside the penny candy store,
old men slap dominoes on chipped tables,
smoke curling up like prayers
their wives gave up saying.
i lean on the fire escape,
watch them call me mami
like it’s my birthright —
call me solid, thick like the block,
hips wide enough to hold the gossip
and still swing.
they say ju got that caramel skin,
that soft bite in your mouth
when you try to say sweet —
they say i’m loud, i’m stubborn,
i argue with my hands and my hips,
i got too much to say for a girl
that comes from stoops and window sills.
but this is my gospel —
my curvy body a prayer,
my no’s a sermon,
my laugh breaks their cigar smoke,
my name rides the domino slam —
mira, mami, this girl ain’t leaving
her corner for nobody.
''Mighty: 'Mira, have you seen the dam's reservoir level rise?''
Its water spills over, a dangerous disguise
Mira: ''Yes, I have, my friend. It is a terrible sight
The flood brings a destructive might".
Mighty: ''The Engineers, they say it is all for good.
To generate power, for the people's hood.
But what about the homes and lands below?
The waters rage, will they ever know?''
Mira: ''The dam stands tall between us two.
A symbol of man's power, but also their woo.
Nature's force, cannot withstand.
The flood's fury will sweep through this land''.
Mighty: ''Oh! Mira, I fear for those downstream.
Their safety and homes seem like a terrible dream.
The water's rise knows no bounds.
Its power is immense, it knows no grounds."
Mira: '' But still, we stand strong, like guardians of old.
Witnesses to man's might, and to nature's hold.
And though the flood may come, with all its might.
We'll stand here forever, throughout day and night".
So let the flood rage on, with all its might
For man and nature, will surely fight
And though the dam may falter, and the water may spill.
Our strength will stand steadfast still.
Hoy me he sentido extrañamente melancolico,
Me prometi siempre caminar con la frente en alto,
pero no puedo engañarme a mi mismo,
el piso sigue siendo demasiado hermoso como para no mirarlo.
Los recuerdos son mas fuertes que el presente,
Ell futuro pesa mas que el pasado,
¿Por que mi mente es tan elocuente?,
¿Por que mi corazon es tan callado?.
Mi alma me mira con desprecio, mi cuerpo me apoya ciegamente,
Pero los ojos, en rebeldía,se escapan por la noche,
Mi rutina me es fiel con recelo,
Mis metas me ven a lo lejos, aunque el camino siempre este despejado.
Mi voluntad aun esta dormida,
Lo unico que la mantiene viva es mi corazón,
Pero habla muy bajo como para despertarla,
Quizás la muerte pueda hacer algo con su pasión.
my mother’s chancleta
wasn’t footwear -
it was folklore,
a spiritual weapon,
passed down from abuelas
who trained in the mountains
with olympic accuracy.
that chancleta knew geometry -
angles, velocity, wind resistance,
could bend around corners
like it was born with GPS,
could ricochet off walls
with holy precision.
you could sprint down the hallway
like you were running for freedom
and still -
still -
that chancleta would find you
like it remembered your sins
from last week.
my mom never yelled first.
she just lifted her arm slow,
like a priest raising the host,
and the whole apartment held its breath.
we froze,
we repented,
we reconsidered our entire lives
in the span of a heartbeat.
but once that chancleta flew?
ay bendito.
it became prophecy.
there was no ducking,
no hiding behind siblings,
no negotiating with God.
the chancleta chose its target
and justice was served
swift and bilingual.
sometimes we swear
we saw it curve midair,
swerve right,
change direction,
defy physics,
and hit you gently on the shoulder
like it was reminding you,
mira nena, behave.
but after the sting faded,
after the lecture,
after the side-eye of doom,
she’d laugh -
that deep Boricua laugh
that meant we were safe again,
that meant she loved us too much
to let the world teach us harder lessons
than she could.
now, as a mother,
i look at my own chancletas
lining the doorway,
and i swear they vibrate
with ancestral memory -
like they’re ready
if i ever need them.
but i don’t throw them.
instead, i tell the stories:
about my mother,
her perfect aim,
her fierce love disguised
as discipline.
and every time my kids laugh
at the legend of la chancleta,
i feel her hands,
her strength,
her magic -
still teaching,
still protecting,
still flying
in the stories i keep alive.
Tall and willowy she stands
out from all the other women;
her face most expressive
when the choir sings a song.
"Out on the Mira, on warm afternoons..."
her voice blends so easily,
a tone clear and strong.
I glance at her occasionally
noting with pleasure
the pleasure on her face;
singing with others
is her special place.
I stand and sing in the bass section
trying to follow the conductor's direction,
but, admittedly, I am distracted
by the long-legged alto
standing several feet away.
I want to engage with her...
not sure what I'll say.
During a break,
I catch her eye by smiling...
her look is demure
and so beguiling.
I try to be funny,
to "be cool with the lines"
but then I stop myself;
it's best to be genuine.
We converse with small talk,
I see her face brighten;
my own nervousness eases,
I feel my mood lighten.
She says her hands feel cold,
I say mine are quite warm.
I reach out to hold them,
a boyish attempt to charm.
She does not pull them away,
in fact, they relax.
We seem to have
made a connection...perhaps.
My heart jumps,
a feeling deep emerges
so real, so true,
and then I smile and think
"I'd love to fall
in love with you."