Long Mona lisa Poems
Long Mona lisa Poems. Below are the most popular long Mona lisa by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mona lisa poems by poem length and keyword.
A lanterne is a five line quintain verse shaped like a Japanese lantern with a syllabic pattern of one, two, three, four, one.Each line able to stand on its own, and the poem may or may not have a title which sometimes forms an integral part as a 6th line
#1
Black,
yellow,
brown, or white--
partitions skin
deep.
#2 WATER MEADOWS
rush
and sedge
hide shady
ponds--teeming
with
life
#3
by
the stream
so shallow,
weeps a willow
tree.
#4 DAYSTAR
dawn
tinges
the bleak sky--
hope enlightens
all
#5
a
sea mist
rolls inshore---
daydreams deluge
me
#6 BIRDSONG
lost
in the
soft mist of
a September
dawn
#7 EQUINOX
Rain
droped leaves,
spotted gold--
scatter in the
wind
#8 MONA LISA
Her
gaze and
smile followed
his every
step
#9
bells
tolling
on the wind--
old memories
die
#10
a
dry rock--
out of the
white water of
life
#11 HIGH RISE
Thin
spires
in the breeze---
tasselled teasels
touch
Lanterne #12
Faint
May breeze----
in the trees
ripples shaded
green
She was trapped in a world of turmoil
Forbidden from lustful thoughts
Swimming through a stream of endless dreams
Escaping from realities strong grasp of solitude
Sprinting around a track of intimacy
Only to portray images of a previous encounter
Hopeful to fall into a groove of forgotten love
Bringing back memories of his touch, his kiss, his strength
One day like life itself you will thrive on me
Like a vine wrapped around me
Will you with your haunted past learn to love again
My words are real, no lies lying in deceit
Like a symphony at Carnegie Hall your beautiful in every way
Your style in-sync, your rhythm inspires
An artist in loves form
Touching your body with my fingers gently
Surrounding you with my bristles
Your cream is my paint
You are my Mona-Lisa!!
You step out from the dark
the moonlight baths you.
Reflections dance against
your silky skin calling
out to me once again.
I find it impossible
to describe the way your
slow deliberate movements
mesmerizes and hypnotizes.
I watch you
and I try to breathe
but you've stolen the
air from my lungs
along with my heart beat.
You float towards me
Indescribable
like the Mona Lisa
or precious art
a look that cannot
be described because
the explanation is lost
in the viewer's eyes.
The same moonlight
that bathes you
surrounds me and
I'm so very lost in my own
desires that can no longer
remain secret with you
flaming their fires.
I can't make sense of my
normal rhymes and I'm frozen,
a prisoner in your time.
Words won't express my lust
and my ink dries
and crumbles to dust.
I raise my eyes to yours
hoping to be found
you open your flood gates
and I began to drown.
The world stops.
I'm lost now, so many years
of you playing with my soul
bathing in my tears.
By now, you're so close
I could touch you
But you know I'll never try
I can't move, or look away
I'm lost within your eyes.
I tremble for release
I quake in your proximity
Can't you see my darling
what you are doing to me?
©SamHarty
You need correction, tired of your insurrection,
perhaps you missed out on decent distribution,
however, all is not lost, give you one more chance,
you'll know it's time when I give you a disparaging glance.
A disarming smile can make you run a mile,
make you pause, reflect within, take stock a while;
there's enough to deal with, harassment, sexual pests,
why is it that some men are obsessed with breasts?
The Mona Lisa destroyed everything you had to say,
there was no reply, digging for reprieve from yesterday;
agrreement would be astonishing instead of admonishing,
I'm hoping you'll realize that there's something missing.
'Let me take you, let me take you to the dance,'
you'll know it's time when I give you one more chance.
funky burning smelling aromas with the sorrowful tears of yonder years, where the mountains overshadowed the chimney smoke rising on the streets and open planse
my Mona Lisa darling my passion inflamed and ignited by you smile.
I'm sorry for causing your tears to fall my heart is broken because of your sadness
my Naomi lover confidant friend and wife my forgiveness plea resounds across the seas my everything I need and more.my Naomi my breath of sunshine I'm sorry for breaking your heart and hearting the one that you love. the burning smelling aromas that fills the sky is my guide to healing this heart I'm sorry for breaking your heart my lovely Naomi my plea resounds across the Sky's I'm sorry for being a fool but I know we will be together again my lover confidant friend and wife through All our struggles our love overcame all obstacles. my love my heart is broken because of your sadness I cannot live without you please accept my plea and together we can fly with our love into realms. your tears has altered my vision. I love you my Naomi lover and wife
Thrift Store Foreshadowing
by Odin Roark
Inventory of past life inventories
Poised in dress-parade attention
Obliging his obligatory inspection,
Seeking the suit that would fit him well,
Avoiding the over-priced,
Cleaned and pressed,
Yet with frayed collar conspiracy
Luridly foisting their prominence
Beneath overhead fluorescents.
About the store,
Bathed in mist-like dust mites and hidden cobwebs,
Dummies dressed in street-window conceit,
Stood like Nutcracker soldiers
Their Mona Lisa eyes tracking his every move.
As rickety fans stirred the summer’s air,
Racks of faded dresses sashayed to and fro from hangers,
Not knowing he was of manly preference,
Even though…
Racks of shirts and ties waved
As he hurriedly sought an exit.
Dead men’s boots and shoes vied for his attention,
As sweat-stained Stetsons rolled along the floor,
Chasing him back to his slumber,
Where his time to wake meant quashing the noisy Big Boy alarm,
Following his ritual of ****, shower and shave,
And the daily venture into the real world of fear.
Sadly…
His analyst, the only known confidant, gave little credence to the dream,
Until having to identify his still body at the morgue,
Her doubt developed a bit more dream consciousness,
Insomnia becoming her constant companion.
i remember you;
giddy little child
with the mona-lisa smile
and sun-burnt hair
as it brushed against
your ivory skin
you were so innocent then
i never saw the sadness
that lingered in your eyes
the depths of green
seemed to pull others in
that hypnotizing glare
hid your pain well
they laughed with you
yet in silence you cried
muffled voice
echoed on walls
where darkness
subdued your soul
i heard you sold your soul
on the corner
of fifth and main
for a small bag of pleasure
to escape the pain
momentarily
again
a lonely cat
cried by your side
he has nine lives
you've already had ten
yet there you go again
unafraid, stained
with your own blood
the band
still wrapped tight
against your flesh
needle tip
still feeding your veins
as you close your eyes
and rest in shallow breaths
i remember you;
still as the air
that august day
that sunlit hair
against grey skin
blue lips without smile
closed eyes pulling others in
to the depths of your pain
their cheeks stained
with tears
that bore your name
as muffled cries
echoed
by your grave
June 28, 2019
First Place
Best free verse 2019 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Copyright © Sandra Adams | Year Posted 2019
The Eiffel Tower stabbed at a midnight
as blue as an old Muddy Waters track.
From a distance, its lace-iron skeleton
looked like a slick and oily spider-web
crowned with a glittering neon diamond.
(My Grandmère's home is across the street from it).
“Do you want to go climb it?” I’d asked Peter (my bf).
“Naah,” he’d replied, “too crowded - what’s next?”
We’ve been tourist-ing all of the big Paris sights.
As we night cruised the Seine, the rivière looked dark
and perilous - a phthalo-green snake slithering north
westerly at six times the speed of the Nile.
We took a guided tour of the Louvre - it’s a crowded
fortress and you can’t see the Mona Lisa up close.
We day-toured the palace at Versailles, with its ghosts
of past grandeurs and revolutionary, royal beheadings.
The Arc de Triomphe is just an unsafe round-about.
As we Uber’d around it, I turned to Peter saying,
“Joke time: What’s more dangerous:
a shark or an American driver in a Paris traffic circle?”
.
.
Paris la nuit = Paris at night
Muddy Waters was a singer and musician - a delta blues man considered the "father of Chicago blues." Chicago blues was electrified, hard driving and drum backed. The Rolling Stones took their name from one of his songs. He was the original “Hoochie Coochie Man."
Whither now hunker-shins?
You have a sweet countenance,
a squat grace,
always middle-aged
on the still edge of a speeding sun.
Another swift day has begun
yet here you sit among the traffic
unflinching, a bold
bladder quelling gravity
with low-sprung shanks.
You deep-seated recliner,
standing-pat over upholstered hams.
A lumpy Mona Lisa,
with your come-hither girth
and just a thin membrane
between you and chaos.
Your skin an alien chiaroscuro,
a candle-lit atlas,
and in the cockle and crimp
of your glistening skin
a truculent contrarian gleams
beneath your world-dismissing
Buddha smile.
She writes like Maya
She sings like Aretha
She dreams like Coretta
She reads like Oprah
She speaks like Barbara
She plays like Serena
She rocks like Tina
She rolls like Donna
She entertains like Diana
She cures like Maria
She paints like Edmonia
She kicks like Mia
She runs like Wilma
She throws like Lisa
She boxes like Laila
She dances like Anna
She skates like Surya
She invents like Patricia
She revolts like Angela
She influences like Condoleezza
She paints like Edmonia
She smiles like Mona Lisa
She loves like a mother
She protects like a tiger
She prays like Mother Theresa
And she cooks like momma.
Dear readers, you can add more
A natural woman is never poor
Please, beloved friends, be kind
To come up with more in your mind
She tumbles like Simone
She philosophizes like Simone
She quilts like Betsy
She laughs like Whoopi
She jokes like Leslie
She sings like Marie
She speed skates like Maame
She flies like Mae
She exercises like Gabby
She educates like Mary
She fights like Dorothy
She explores like Stephanie
She sounds like Winnie
She creates like Margaret
She dares like Harriet
She runs like Marion
She entertains like Josephine
She legislates like Maxine
She sows like Catherine
She teaches like Gwendolyn
She lifts like Ernestine
She acts like Diahann
She reports like Diane
She speaks like Michelle
She is serious like Michelle
She is strong like Althea
She is talented like Augusta
She is defiant like Cicely
She is brave like Shirley
She is normal like Marilyn
She is fearless like Maxine
She is relaxed like Rosa
She is inquisitive like Barbara
She challenges like Phyllis
She swings like Chris
She plays like Alice
She is talented like Venus
She is pretty like a flower
And she is like our mother.
A natural woman is not perfect
She deserves honor and respect
She needs love everyday
From trouble, she never runs away
Please add more to this poem
And do not curse or blaspheme
She writes like Maya
She sings like Aretha
She dreams like Coretta
She reads like Oprah
She speaks like Barbara
She plays like Serena
She prays like Mother Theresa
And she cooks like our mama.
Copyright © August 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.