Long Monochrome Poems
Long Monochrome Poems. Below are the most popular long Monochrome by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Monochrome poems by poem length and keyword.
My play buddy ,my agony aunt,
sometimes sweet and sometimes blunt.
I am blessed with a man in my life who has always been by my side,
by the way he is also the one on whose back i have played horseride.
Over the years his hair turned grey,
but still he is the best coach when it comes to fair play.
Life is gift when you meet good people,
life is a boon when you have someone who makes you better every day.
It's not just the money that I can't repay you ever since you became the sole donor to my piggy bank,
It's the unconditional love that I will be forever indebted which I received from you.
Holding my hand while crossing the road,
peeking through the window when I am off to home,
our memories together are a beautiful monochrome.
You showered my life with values and virtues,
you taught me chivalry and gratitude.
You believe in me more than I do,
that's what makes you my grandpa and my perfect hero.
Long ago, when buying sheets,
The task was kind of fun.
I looked at the designs
Until I found my favorite one.
A few had stripes or flowers
Or were patterned or were dotted;
I waited ‘til I found a set
With which I was besotted.
But nowadays, it’s such a drag.
They’re monochrome instead,
With just one boring color;
How can that perk up a bed?
There’s also something else today
To take into account –
How many threads your sheets should have –
You choose the right amount.
So now I’m touching samples –
Like I’d really know by feeling –
To ascertain which texture
I decide is most appealing.
Aside from price, there’s just one thing
I simply have to find –
Unless they say “No iron,”
I will leave those sheets behind!
A crisp brown leaf from the sycamore tree
Silently fell to the ground
It gently lay down amidst more of its kind
Having landed with no hint of sound
How could it know of the silence required
To survive through the night in these woods
I’d crunched one such leaf underfoot in my haste
And fell prey to the people in hoods
The moon though dim, waxing gibbous, I think
Throws monochrome shades in the night
Against this old oak I am helpless and tied
There’s no escape, try as I might
What did they mean, “That’s her gluttony sated”?
No woman I see hereabout
My knees feel weak as shrivelled leaves crunch
And they fail as that dull moon…… goes out
He didn't have a coat of many colors
he had many coats in different colors
each day he wore a different one
whatever struck his fancy, his mood
whatever made me feel suave, cool
whatever made him feel mannishly approved
He changed those colors
in kaleidoscope speed
so fast that it seemed
he had a coat of many colors
yet in the end
he wound up cold
none of the coats
could keep him warm
though each one had its charm
the constant changing caused alarm
No coat felt special, real
and by some magic mystery
when he reached in the closet
each one he pulled out
had turned to black
in coat rebellion attack
mutiny
Back to black
to match the color
of his monochrome heart
Eileen Manassian
Just look at the peak
Tall and sleek
Looking at the creek
With jealousy
A little enmity too
For the creek has its friends
Trees flowers showers
Towers of colored clouds
Prepared to appease it
With fire dousing rains
The mountain peak
Lonely monotone
Head to toe alone
A single standing stone
None to share the agony cones
Of grief
No bird no ballad
No pink clad
Deserted by all glee
Eleanor Rigby
Messy hair and dirtied skin
Frail frame lean and thin
To vacuum, she likes to grin
Almost an empty bean
Knee loves chin
Exhausted by her misery
Eleanor Rigby
Her stone-cold gaze
In her eyes the grey haze
On her face blocked sun rays
Starless nights and dark days
From loneliness sickly
Eleanor Rigby
See her at the county fair
There are vacant chairs
Yet she chooses to sit
Near the river beside a pit
Skin taking support from the bone
A dull ache seated all alone
A sculpture from wood or stone
Attempt to laugh bringing out groan
A torn paper with the wind blown
A voice of hesitant monotone
Alone alone and again alone
All colours monochrome
Though surrounded by people
Living in a desolate island
Walking along the empty seashore
A solitary story is she
Eleanor Rigby
Suddenly she collided
With him
Was about to slip into the river
He held her tight
A cup of tea
Eleanor Rigby
September 4, 2019
Eleanor Rigby Who was she Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jerry T Curtis |
Black or white?
How can that be? I’m sure
I see a kaleidoscope of colors.
But something is not right.
I can’t distinguish which is which.
They all look pallid white or ebon black.
I panic. Where are the rainbow hues?
All gone as if violent squalls of a mighty hurricane
Swept them off the face of a tempestuous earth.
I try to move about and shatter the confusion,
But all is pitch dark fog. I stop
For I can hear, oh yes I can hear
The breathing of someone in the room.
Where is it coming from? Who is luring there?
I can sense it in the corner, a shape darker than dark.
I freeze. Those eyes! Burning red.
I see it approaching, getting near.
I scream.
My wife touches me tenderly.
Another nightmare? Come we’ll have breakfast.
I rise and grasp my white walking stick.
All is stygian dark though I feel the soft white sun.
For I am bat blind.
Except minute faint white patches.
The rest is just tar black.
Life can be relentless and unforgiving, stumbling at times crumbling under the pressure of trying to be normal, learning from the obstacles that we must jump over with precise patience.
I’ve discovered you must be careful on who you choose to share your life with, the forever witness to your good, bad and all that lays in-between.
As you begin to track each other’s footprints from pass lives you map out previous trodden tracks and discover each other’s tempo
And witness the sweetness in between the bitterness and you both see each other for who you truly are.
Because learning the melody of our love language aids in discovering the remedy in our solace
And echoes in to all our tomorrows.
At times we are burdened with reminiscence of ourselves as 12-year olds? Pondering on the injustice we faced.
Overcome with sadness that, I couldn’t be your compass to guide you through that madness
But would this love taste, this sweet with the absence of character building bitterness?
For now I will wrap my golden wings around your monochrome tones and ascend you to soaring new heights as we take flight.
Fill you with my loving light.
Play the games that we missed out on like tag and listen to you brag about how good of a basketball player you were. And end with a game of I spy... Why? because you are the most beautiful girl that I spy with my little eye.
We would return to earth as idols knowing that our tale is one of survival.
In this moment dispel generational curses, sculpture our future with the knowledge that no one can stop what is destined
Kismet is what brought us together, understanding, patience, respect and eternal love is what will bond us for infinity.
ENTHUSIASM
out
of reluctance
some merriment
heretofore
esteemed
notionally
incognito
in a
lovely
renaissance
remained
a rarity
a fantasy
of the
appetite
of curiosos
impertinent
in pursuit
of the picturesque
to conceive
the vivid
in the
archaic
characterised
by
pillars
of the
intricate
patterns in
vivid imaginations
venturing into
the intrepid
visual art
for
a connoisseur
made
practicable
likened to
self-portrait
to celebrate
a common
inheritance
& frequent
the obscure
& the blurry
monochrome
reduced
to black
& white
on
a
series
of murals
I was given passion.
I was given eyes that fall in love.
All of them betrayed me
and whisper that I’m not enough.
I tried to breathe, stubborn and be,
but all they could ever see,
is someone who’s not worthy of being free.
So I ask God, to let me flee, but he is one with mercy.
I rise to see another day, less of pain.
It seems the colors all just fade.
The world around me turns to gray,
I didn’t say I want to stay, but I suppose this is okay.
I do not wish to see my mother’s face,
be the place where rivers grace.
Nor my father’s chest be the breast that’s set on fire,
so I’ll keep watching the world outside my window in monochrome,
until all the mercy God has to offer, retires on its own.
I’ve been all but cruel and all but a liar,
I am a child, that’s tired and cold.
Told, the world holds heroes and souls,
much like mine, but I feel so alone.
I am fascinated by the ink that spreads, when I touch paper.
I breathe to write and this pain I savor.
Though sooner or later, I must not be me,
so I can make everyone be, happy.
And I sadly cannot keep up,
I run, but the wind grabs my arms and calls upon the sun.
It won’t let go and I say that I am done,
but all they show is mercy, they say that is has come.
I rise to see another day,
far from prayers and far from my old ways.
Ungrateful men, that choose to stay,
turn to break, the bonds they’ve made.
They soak in sin.
The tears I wiped, bloomed a grin.
Sinister and empty within.
Perhaps mercy, is a line so thin.
The divine should not have let us win.
So we are now free,
I, punished for being me.
I asked for mercy and I got mine,
I am the evil, one so vile.
I still breathe and still I peek through smiles,
the world around me cries in black and white
and I just dived inside a can, I’ll blend or I just might,
inside my mind I’ll strive to fight and shine in bright, colors.
I’ll be right here, until my soul has suffered,
caged inside a mind, locked away from others.
Mercy is my death, ignorance – regret,
I hope that God never bothers to read the poetry I have suffered and the ink I have bled.
Maybe, mercy instead?
I've been walking down this road alone
Searching for a way to get back home
but each brick releases pensive memories
until they've blurred in a shade of monochrome
Maybe I was a coward for deciding to leave
Trepidation became fear so I walked away
but some say it took the courage of a lion
to leave him standing in the door that day
If I'd been bastioned in an armored suit of tin
my tears would have encrusted me in rust
To a heart that can't stop crying over lost love
it's too daunting a task to believe again in trust
How foolish I was, to rely upon a naive heart
for allowing me to drown in a deluge of rain
There's no hiding beneath a haystack of straw
It was inane to let my heart overrule my brain
No wizard's words spoken from behind a curtain
will guide me since love came disguised as a thief
No magic wand waved will help me find my way
Only time has the power to allay such grief