Long Mixture Poems
Long Mixture Poems. Below are the most popular long Mixture by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mixture poems by poem length and keyword.
When I Give You My Heart…
The love I give to you dear one,
Is love I know belongs to me,
To think that it is yours alone
Is adolescent fantasy.
For if this love weren’t really mine
How could it then be mine to give?
If heart is always True Love’s home,
Without a heart how could I live?
It may not bring you comfort love
And you may never feel secure,
But dreams my heart is only yours,
Reveal a heart that’s immature.
For you to tell me that’s your gift,
Suggests that you’re naïve at best,
For even if you think it’s true,
The emperor is still undressed!*
At least most men aren’t made that way,
Our futures never are for sure.
And pleasures taken while we can
While praying there might be a cure.
A sick child cause our love to end,
Even our jobs drive us apart,
Though no one plans on stuff like this,
It spells disaster for the heart.
A partner that decides they’re gay,
Somehow an accidental death,
The day your spouse does not come home,
The world can take away your breath.
So when I ‘just’ give you my love
Please check your heart to know it’s true
And realize that lover’s chose,
It’s really all that one can do.
A witches spell, a chain of fire
Cannot restrain decay to dust,
A lifetime all we have to live,
Where good days start with hope and trust.
Brian Johnston
August 29, 2014
Poet's Notes:
* ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’ – A tale by Hans Christian Anderson about two weavers who promise an Emperor a new suit of clothes that is invisible to those unfit for their positions, stupid, or incompetent. When the Emperor parades before his subjects in his new clothes, a child cries out, "But he isn't wearing anything at all!" The tale has been translated into over a hundred languages. From ‘Wikipedia.'
Few go into a relationship with the expectation of love not lasting a lifetime, and yet we all know our relationship too will end, sooner or later, hopefully the latter. The time spent may be quality time or more of a learning experience, usually a mixture of both. But nothing can totally prepare us for the future except to be honest with ourselves and to admit, we are not really in control. That understanding can make things easier for those able to embrace it. Failure may always be failure, but being able and willing to forgive, to love yourself too, is the only path to future happiness in my experience.
i was eight
the first time-
i saw Yin-Yang Mountain.
the height of it’s peak
contrasted by
the light on one side
dark on the other.
as the sun travels
from east to west
the color of the slopes change-
the light becoming dark
the dark becoming light.
i stand on the peak of Yin-Yang Mountain
watching the shifting
light and dark.
the line dividing the sinuous halves
is my being.
am I dark or light?
a white line or
a black line?
i am the curve between.
i am the difference.
i am the deciding factor.
i stand now
beside the River of Life.
my feet bare-
i step into the cool waters
observing the shifting reflection
and shadow.
the current swirls the dark and the light.
this life giving, fluid filled gully
brings darkness when one is consumed
by its waters.
above the light is reflected-
below it is swallowed.
soothed i sit-
resting below the shelter
of the Tree of Constance.
the trunk is thick
made of layers of living matter within-
dead matter out.
the dead bark surrounds
the living core-
protecting.
from this sturdy core
branches shoot towards the light.
from those branches shoot buds-
which contain life-giving seeds.
the seeds fall to the ground below.
laying upon the dark
mineral rich earth-
i imagine.
below my body burrow
insects and roots.
they depend upon the fertile
ground for survival.
humans have turned this earth into
a burial ground for the fallen.
the rotting bodies consumed in darkness
feed the creatures who dwell
in the earth.
these departed whisper
knowledge to fallen seeds.
imparting wisdom-
to ensure growth.
I return to the peak-
of Yin-Yang Mountain.
from this peak i observe
the mixture around me.
here on this peak I know
the answers.
i am the wisdom.
this knowledge has paralyzed me.
with this gift i have been silenced.
i am the dividing line-
i am the question.
with faith I fall-
from the peak of Yin-Yang Mountain
into the icy waters of the
River of Life.
it’s turbulent ebb and flow
fills me with life
and destroys me when dragged upon its floor.
i wash upon the shore
gasping for air-
clinging to the root.
I succumb.
i begin to rot-
feeding the earth-
that feeds the tree-
that thrives beside the river-
which dwells upon the slopes
of Yin-Yang Mountain.
here i will remain-
until discovered-
and then understood-
this
my Youth in Asia.
The elegant thoughts of a precious mind the computational formula of a wicked demise.
Conceptual seires of theories a conspiracy to seduce persuasive succulent poetry.
Wicked mistress of promiscuous thoughts succulent dreams aromas of fresh gratuities a blurring of mixtures to blended abstracts.
Funnels draining the gravity of intellectual force to persuade a complete set of cycling ways to convey. The Amoure of flashing movies pictured all in the thought whispering speeds of domesticating breeds many ways a heart bleeds. Bundles of delightful Joys the taste of blissful, many ways eye's see to conceive the thought.
The almonds of joy roasted to enjoy conceptual way of a thinking blinking fast ways of thoughts. Orchestra's of notes orchestrated instruments of Beethoven's musical symphonies. Genie in a bottle unleashing the mysterious, unveiling imaginative ways of cultivating the seeded flower to bloom.
Enduring the elegants of an elite Romance rhythm of a Romans aroma's to inhale changing the taste of eloquence.
The artist works mending fears transducing hours to love live love with the sweat of fears8.
Rome's architectural wonder the protects precise sculpture of a wordsmiths glamour. Struts the catwalk with a book 2 premiere, lives on set, broadcasting his heart to revere.
Prince's of prancnig dressing rooms, Broadway St of dramatic dramas, elterically shocking emotions paints new moon phases, mixture of Picasso's colors a dramatization of pain seats the audience.
Photographer of a pictured humanity, colors rainbows of negativity with brilliant prisms.
A King to lion's spiritual pride brilliance of a star, rearrange the theater's of studed premieres, lives with sentiments of love's lifetime unconditionally the greatest of philosophy.
Unique elegance of sun setting romance blinding the artist of a premiering wedding, preaching the marriage of universal energy.
Rays of hope displaying poetry of wholehearted hearted beauty.
The statue of persuasive values premiering spiritually harmonies the elegance of mankind.. Energies of unleashed imaginations dreaming of pots of gold, loving the insecurities of the worlds diversity walks the testimony of £ove.
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Pen's Broadcasting Brilliance
21st century's Poet
#WickedRomancer
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A Rift in Time
By Elton Camp
Henry Higgins, B.A., M.A. Ph.D., graduate in physics from the Massachusetts Institution of Technology, is missing. Born August 8, 1950, he was thought of as a genius by some, but as a crackpot by others. Revolutionary theories on the possibility of time travel that he presented at scientific gatherings received a mixture of applause and ridicule. None of his articles have seen publication in peer-reviewed journals.
How his machine works is of a technical nature, thus certain to be of insignificant interest to the readers of this account. Suffice it to say that it works very well. Henry had seen his device disappear and reappear multiple times after being programmed to slide both forward and backward in time.
Finally came the day to test it in person. Surprisingly athletic for a man of his years, Henry strapped himself into place before the control panel, adjusted his eyeglasses and pulled a protective helmet over his thick, gray hair. He set the chronometer to early August of 2040 to determine if he was still living at that advanced age and what honors had been accorded him by the scientific community.
With a barely-discernable jerk, the time machine began its slide into the future, the red cancel button prominently alongside the digital display of the date. The world outside the device became a blur and Henry heard only a low hum from the engine. All seemed to be well as the years rolled by on the chronometer. At first, that is.
Henry noted with surprise the muscle atrophy and skin changes associated with extreme age. A slight looseness of his helmet caused him to discover that he was now as bald as his father had been in his late eighties. Henry’s eyeglasses no longer allowed him to read the control panel clearly. The truth hit him--he was aging along with the passing years. The inanimate time machine had shown no such effect, but it was different with a biological organism. He desperately punched the cancel button, realizing that, if his future self was not still living, his death was impending.
To his relief, the chronometer slowed and stopped. Without input from Henry, the time device began to move backward in time, slowly at first, and then at a brisk clip. By the time the read-out showed Henry’s present, his physical deterioration had been reversed and all was as before.
Everyone, from children to grownups,
carry the world in their hands, they see the past
and the future simply by the move of their thumbs and fingers;
from their very spot they fly in the air hanging onto the mixture of
illusion and reality.
The little glass plate they are staring at is,
though, a two dimensional world, they go
beyond the fourth dimension and reach the world of infinity,
the time of conception to death, while creating a totally anew concept
of time that is a mixture of kairos and chronos.
Because you see everything at the same time
in this little glass plate, layer after layer of thickened image
starts to fall to cause the chaos, the distorted image crumbles.
When a child finds Hydra in the little flat glass plate he held,
he challenges Hydra, and after a long difficult fight, though
he cuts a head off from this great serpent, a drop of blood
numbs the child, with venom spitting out from the mouths
of the remaining heads it deadens the child. Then, after all,
the Hydra’s blood and venom overtake the child’s shrunken brain,
the child becomes a fierce monster himself.
For a grownup,
while watching Laokoon and his two children locked in the coils of
hissing snakes, agonizing. He undergoes unbearable torment himself,
as if Laokoon was tortured by the snakes, stretching his arms in the air
to grab something that may lessen the intensity of horror.
From the touch of smooth
but cold skin of the snake,
he shudders, he frightens, he feels death.
The child, comes and goes from here to yonder world in no time,
led by the move of his fingertip, he came and sat with the devil
face to face, tries to trade junk the devil offers with his soul, though
immature, he is therefore reckless, but innocent.
The grownup who haunted by anguish,
walks on the path of life and death, because
he is unable to shake off the bad-omen he carries;
is now sitting in front of a poker table and through
the little flat glass plate in his palm, gazing at the numbers
on the playing cards; he irons his ragged soul with steaming-hot-iron
for external appearance, the soul that even the devil won’t take in
pledge for filthy lucre.
It’s outrageous but,
all generations alive today, seem to be confined
in the little flat glass plate, they live as the slave of the fingertip.
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"~" "~" ("~") LOVE> ("~")
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""(H)ONEST-GOD ((O))PEN-(((W)))ILLING-All-WAYS-HOPEFUL;
HONOR-LOVE-HIS HEAVENLY; CREATOR-PROVIDING "~" (~) "~"
ETERNAL "~" (~) "~" HUMBLY-ABIDING-HIMSELF FOR-HIS-OWN
"REACHING" "~ (~) ~" ACCEPTING "~ (~) ~" always-what-Hate;
cannot - born-of LOVE, Grace-UNCONDITIONAL; THE-DEVOTIONAL
LIFE; HIS-FREE-SPIRIT, man-forged-sent-into-the-mixture;
"~ (~) ~" ENTRUSTED "~ (~) ~"
Faith-instilled-Faith Evolving-IS--HIS-PERFECTED "HIS CHILDREN"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eM61MusOE7g&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aOSUDwV57hY&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sz2oFHAp2VI&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WV2gS5qQlic&feature=fvw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L78wcxUXxYc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QcIups90YsY
http://www.youtube.com/user/Darknesser666
The-Desire... Pureness; Of-Man -
GRACE-MERCY-CONSIDERED -
MERCY/FORGIVENESS/PEACE
PARDON/PONDERED/LOVE-
SURRENDERED... OFFERED;
INNOCENCE-DELIVERED,
JESUS... THE-EXAMPLE -
So-through HIM-ETERNITY -
"THUS; THE-BOLDNESS "OF" MAN!""
~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~
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Date December 19th 2010: http://www.whitehouse.gov/thank-you
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=269101
Plus a copy of this reference to being mailed.
Time today is: 306 AM first message same one mailed after second one to the
President at 3:36 AM or around there about:
http://www.whitehouse.gov/thank-you
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkUnBPdR9RU&feature=channel
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=269230
http://allpoetry.com/ban/show/6960
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"~" "~" ("~") LOVE> ("~")
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""(H)ONEST-GOD ((O))PEN-(((W)))ILLING-All-WAYS-HOPEFUL;
HONOR-LOVE-HIS HEAVENLY; CREATOR-PROVIDING "~" (~) "~"
ETERNAL "~" (~) "~" HUMBLY-ABIDING-HIMSELF FOR-HIS-OWN
"REACHING" "~ (~) ~" ACCEPTING "~ (~) ~" always-what-Hate;
cannot - born-of LOVE, Grace-UNCONDITIONAL; THE-DEVOTIONAL
LIFE; HIS-FREE-SPIRIT, man-forged-sent-into-the-mixture;
"~ (~) ~" ENTRUSTED "~ (~) ~"
Faith-instilled-Faith Evolving-IS--HIS-PERFECTED "HIS CHILDREN"
Broken-born-are WE; it-is-would-it-be alone without-HIM -
JESUS-BEGOTTEN-Of-HIM-SON-PURE; Of-LOVE-
The-Desire... Pureness; Of-Man -
GRACE-MERCY-CONSIDERED -
MERCY/FORGIVENESS/PEACE
PARDON/PONDERED/LOVE-
SURRENDERED... OFFERED;
INNOCENCE-DELIVERED,
JESUS... THE-EXAMPLE -
So-through HIM-ETERNITY -
"THUS; THE-BOLDNESS "OF" MAN!""
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sz2oFHAp2VI&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3of_EN0XpxI&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zP-szEkhMZo&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3of_EN0XpxI&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zP-szEkhMZo&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fSAkeHOWn5Y&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fSAkeHOWn5Y&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eeDlwU6KVQc&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUyDZa3uSYc&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftTfViVNwiM&feature=channel
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1iSvHlWHLhs&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EOl85O8nGXs&feature=related
http://allpoetry.com/ban/show/6960
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"~ (~) ~"
"~" "~" ("~") LOVE> ("~")
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http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=269101
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=269170
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In the heart of the forest, where shadows creep,
Where whispers of darkness bind all in sleep,
A tale unfolds, of a much-feared witch,
With eyes like the void and a malevolent twitch.
By the edge of the village, where children dare not play,
The elders recall what the old tomes say:
"To catch a witch, you must be brave,
And venture where the lost souls wave."
Gather 'round, young hearts of night,
With flickering candles that hold back the fright,
Listen closely to the words that bind,
For the witch, dear friends, is not far behind.
First, find a mirror, cracked and worn,
Reflects all your fears, where shadows are born.
At midnight's stroke, let your courage ignite,
For it's said she appears, in the pale silver light.
Mix salt with the ashes from last summer's fire,
Sprinkle it gently, let courage inspire.
For witches are drawn by the scent of despair,
But salt binds the spirits, keeps evil aware.
Next, weave a wreath of thorny vines,
Crimson and tangled, with signs of the times.
Place it upon your door with care,
For only the foolish would dare to compare.
Gather some friends, with hearts full of thrill,
For the witch feasts on fear, on dread, and on chill.
Hold hands in a circle, chant low and slow,
"Come forth from the darkness, oh spirit of woe."
If the air turns thick, if the shadows conspire,
If the howl of the wind begins to grow higher,
Know that she's coming, you'll sense her near,
With a laugh that could chill even the bravest of deer.
But do not be frightened, stand firm, stand tall,
For you’ve called her forth, now heed to the call.
With courage entwined and a dappled fright,
Face the dark force with all of your might.
And if you should glimpse her, with warts and with claws,
With a grin sharp as knives and a rancid breath’s jaws,
Do not look away, hold your gaze steady and true,
For witches can vanish, if they see fear in you.
As dawn paints the sky with a whisper of gold,
Wrap her in silver, let her secrets unfold.
In shadows she lingers, but power you'll find,
For wits and the brave can leave her behind.
So, heed this advice, young hearts of the night,
For the witch is a puzzle wrapped tight in your fright.
With a mixture of courage and wisdom so bright,
You'll catch her but remember: never leave out the light.
Staring in the mirror when I'm down with these scissors I found.
With my wrists out and prescription lids littered around.
I've scribbled out a bitter letter in wicked accounts and written down twisted sentences in crimson.
I drown in no bounds it got me tripping out grouchy for outlets.
Now my hound pulls at my trousers.
When I'm face down drowsy with a mouth full of downers.
I'm pale looking clownish.
I ain't clowning around, see my self esteem floundering.
Out for the count as hells demons seen prowling around me proudly twisting and dancing entrancing.
Slipping away fast last vision left glancing enhanced with a mixture of doubt.
Knowing there's no one to laugh with and be found here alone with a sinister frown.
I've got to get out.
Haunted in this mysterious house that time forgot.
A place where damp rises and shrouded in all types of moss and lichen, rotting with the slime from condensation.
A sodden formed Forrest where I'm under sedation.
A clock work decision I watch myself gazing transfixed on my mission across amazing mazes.
As dreams fade into sight I stay silently praying.
Embracing the night watching day light escaping.
Remain in this safe haven I'm taken away safely remaining unshaken, grey and unshaven, eight shades of my aura shadows the ravens.
The creature with talons and the beak of eagle seen clutching a talisman to defeat it's evil.
I see through people. Phycic and tight lipped.
Leaving hindsight to guide you through life is wisest.
Am I dying or buying my time in this crises like I'm finally deep in abyss.
Analysing my past thinking did I even exist.
Forever with bliss since I slipped away tearful
Surviving myself I won't ever be fearfully trapped in this labyrinth with Pan and he knows me ghostly he came close cosey and held me closely through apocalypse start dropping atom bombs not stopping Babylon.
God got him banished like exhiled angels deep into faranheit heat like my minds a scotch bonnet.
The child of the scorch trials in the maze at night.
Was made strict then was bitten by count
Dracula.
Come the blood sucker parasite cancerous spanning round my brain like the legs of a tarantula.
Tendrils gargantuan.
Attaching the canula straight from the ambulance.
Inserting the catheter.
Wired like capacitors.
Body kept alive with 240 volt adaptors.
I was walking through the pineapple row and a thorn stick me on my middle toe, I bend down low to remove it and I almost fell into the ditch, I didn’t know what to do and so I start chanting an unfamiliar tune. It has no rhythm or verse, but it was sufficient to break the curse.
The hidden doctor came from behind the door and the choreographer crawl from underneath the second floor, the pianist was embarrassed to hold up his head they thought that the entire universe was dead; everything was silent around them, and blood was dripping from his hand what on earth is going on? you have to come and do the final dance. It’s called the swing.
Big bright lofty pineapple with ripe colors and succulent smell penetrates the walls and roofs spilling its juice over the place and I open my mouth wide to take it in but I had to go back to where it all begins.
The pineapple field is wide it has thousands of pineapples that is piling up to the sky, the rows are long, the roots are strong, and I want you to help me compose this new song.
The words are simple, and I love your dimples your enigmatic smile has lit up the entire sky, you have brought me to this place to create this song so let’s get together and sing along.
Don’t put too much solitude into it, I want some joy, modern and contemporary sound the twist and the fling and a little of the solemn hymn.
I want you to change that verse and lament on the stolen purse, the pineapple upside down cake is easy to bake, so spread the cake mix into dish and blend the sugar into the butter and whip up the eggs and pour it in.
Place the pineapple slices in the bottom of the tin and pour the mixture in, put it in the oven and make it bake at a temperature of a 350-degree Fahrenheit and when it’s done turn it upside down and place a cherry in the center and send it over to my lover.
She walks with pride through the gate, he has been waiting for her at the door with a bouquet of flower laced in assorted color; he greets her with a kiss, and she smell the flowers and smile and he took her to a neatly dress table and pour Champaign in a glass and he said, “you have come home at last”.
They sat down and stare at each other’s pride and write the final verse with their eyes. We shall be together until we die, and they complete the final song together.