Long Mistiness Poems
Long Mistiness Poems. Below are the most popular long Mistiness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mistiness poems by poem length and keyword.
Treasury of candles
imagined reawakening the exemplars who campaigns
their coalescing.
Prayer resurrecting
unkept promises that fault mistiness veils of affections
deeply confessed.
Sweetly progressed
a sinless tinkering of ifs and or buts, realizing an
overdue quietus.
Deja vu changes us,
with sweeping preparations from make-ups to do-overs and cuts to
that's a wrap.
Formats gap
of not to be awry and to prefer an alternate perspective as the
dreamer awakes.
Ducks and drakes
in the ability for the agile to skim and glide the distance o'er the calm and become a
better person.
Go-getter version
had manifested itself as what should have been astir than wallowing in a
festering hole.
Measuring goal
as proclivities satisfy a wandering wonder discerning remote hopes dwelt in the sun's
resplendent beacon.
Transcendent reason
a Q & A session obliging the past and the present on a road less traveled amidst
outright amnesty.
Torchlight family,
emblem of enlightenment and hope for generations--encores,
Messiah of Handel's.
There's an obscurity on the threads of darkness
dare I peer beneath the starless shroud of midnight's veil
as I walk through the misty breath that beclouds my vision
in hopes it leads me to the temple of your soul? My dearest
my comfort is there, yet I feel a quivering in the flames
beneath these gusts that prevail through inaudible voices falling
winded in the distance where these shadows walk between us
I feel discernment in memories as these bony fingers reach out
my heart shudders beneath the orchestra of night as it beckons
a samba from the angel of death as it spans its wings before me
I shiver breathless in its cold as the flames grow dimmer
yet this time love, I fear for you as dissolution ascends above me
Muddled mind ventures through vivid vales of scepticism.
Slowly subsiding to my knees under the shadow of moonlight,
crows gathers as helpless hands clench decomposing soil.
Sapless lips gasp for oxygen, shivering in illusory mistiness.
Death's harbinger stands before me, an uninvited hooded eclipse,
holding me prisoner, strangling my soul with naked tree tendrils.
In silent steps he walks towards me, I have no will left to fight.
He has no mercy, content on me kissing the mouth of the earth.
Words hidden behind metaphors, surface upon shores of regret,
flashbacks are like daggers, reminders of unspoken, unwritten words.
My love mourn for me not, as I fall into the graveyards of poets,
in death we still connect, as my words will always live through you.
A Collaboration with Silent One~
Conflicting waves ruffle the smooth blue static
hindering the ethereal progression of her path
Airiness sinks heavily to lean into leaden aqua
mistiness lingering, a foggy dolorous requiem
Practical currents, seem to have lost their step
as winds gust, only to die in competing dogma
Gone again are the gains to the losses gaining!
New rules implemented o’er the old as the sun
explicitly highlights flaws within its blared flare
Listless and restless tossing of the weary soul
aspiring to stay afloat in a much bouncier sea
Denying the salty sting, sways ‘long the bend
yielding painfully to a slower, upriver, journey
6/23/23
"In the misty corridors of the soul",
There are things both young and old;
Some of which are lovely and wholesome.
But some are best left unseen and lonesome.
In such compartments, they must remain.
Otherwise, they only further the pain.
Neither the person nor any stands to gain.
The issue has left a deep wound and a stain.
In the dark nights of the soul, feeling alone and cold,
The heart will ache with secrets that are never told.
Tears will slowly fall as our heads and pillows roll.
Through the mistiness, life will be written on a scroll.
It's not that no one cares, but do I even dare to share?
We are all human, and we do inhale the very same air.
Some matters we bear commonly, but others are rare.
Our lives were never given with a promise to be fair.
These stains can only be cleaned by Christ's blood.
Only God Himself can determine the greater good.
When it's all said and done, it will be understood.
Only then will the scales be balanced as they should.3
A striking canvass of the night sky.
Wept as the moon shone brightly.
The mistiness provides a sense of calm.
An upheaval arose amid the silence.
Smooth orbs droop toward us.
Such a fight about shiny wonts.
Overshadowing the area of view.
This brief pause was quickly ended.
As the moon and stars fade.
Night softens the shadows.
Sweet loving states glow zealously.
Tonight the darlings emerge.
Filling hearts with unwavering trust.
This evening, a higher smile.
Reminds us to trust affection.
1St PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: March 30, 2022
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
A BRIAN STRAND STANDARD Poetry Contest
When both my feet don’t touch the ground
Lightheadedness proves overwhelming
Turbulent thoughts going while coming
They swirl about me round and round
Cloaked in black a moonless night
The howling dreadful spiteful wind prevails
Spellbound drags me over hills and vales
Like a ragdoll in the midst of a bullfight
Trails of lingering spirit ghouls
Hover over murky haze of mistiness
Harassing in dark gloomy cloudiness
Wrangling reaping mangled souls
Blurry visions twirl above
Creating mayhem in their path
Unleashing bold raging wrath
Till afar I think I see a dove
Fearing I’ll break into a coma
I force myself to get a grip
Catch my breath with every dip
Holding out for familiar terra firma
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
An Irish Redemption
Downtown lights glimmer off in the beckoning distance
I watch them twinkle a dewiness as I lie,
safe and sweet in the fresh softness of the Irish linen
Watch them lights reflect starry halos off the deep dark bay tonight.
This harbor a mirror to my soul, glittering black, like a miner’s coal...
wood carved cherry oak, plush vinyl, rain battered glass, a setting
to remember I insist;
their voices hovering, yet their songs I am forgetting…
to know I cannot resist.
The ebbing tide retreats, a salty mistiness on my skin,
I see his wings caress as they unfold. I see his prey.
A quick dive to catch, and then…
He and I fly away.
"Flowers fade and decay through wintry hours- waiting for rebirth."
~Constance La France
A quiet forest, once so green,
Where summer's vibrant light was seen,
While passing beneath a mistiness deep,
While soil matters here, keep.
The crisped air cools the fragile leaf,
A downhearted farewell was brief,
Freed from overladen boughs, high and tall,
Answering the last call.
The old-aged roots hold fast and tight,
To linger through the dark of night,
They sense the tremble of impacted ground,
Where sleeping seeds are found.
Then cracks surface on winter's face,
A thinning from the sun's embrace,
A snail-like awakening, soft and new,
As warmth heals what's gone through.
A tiny shoot, a newborn green,
The first small sign of what has been,
A pattern has closed, a promise well kept,
Life grows where essence slept.
There's an obscurity on the threads of darkness
dare I peer beneath the starless shroud of midnight's veil
as I walk through the misty breath that beclouds my vision
in hopes it leads me to the temple of your soul? My dearest
my comfort is there, yet I feel a quivering in the flames
beneath these gusts that prevail through inaudible voices falling
winded in the distance where these shadows walk between us
I feel discernment in memories as these bony fingers reach out
my heart shudders beneath the orchestra of night as it beckons
a samba from the angel of death as it spans its wings before me
I shiver breathless in its cold as the flames grow dimmer
yet this time love, I fear for you as dissolution ascends above me
Muddled mind ventures through vivid vales of scepticism.
Slowly subsiding to my knees under the shadow of moonlight,
crows gathers as helpless hands clench decomposing soil.
Sapless lips gasp for oxygen, shivering in illusory mistiness.
Death's harbinger stands before me, an uninvited hooded eclipse,
holding me prisoner, strangling my soul with naked tree tendrils.
In silent steps he walks towards me, I have no will left to fight.
He has no mercy, content on me kissing the mouth of the earth.
Words hidden behind metaphors, surface upon shores of regret,
flashbacks are like daggers, reminders of unspoken, unwritten words.
My love mourn for me not, as I fall into the graveyards of poets,
in death we still connect, as my words will always live through you.
Silent One collaboration with Sandra Adams
13 October 2019