Long Naturalness Poems
Long Naturalness Poems. Below are the most popular long Naturalness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Naturalness poems by poem length and keyword.
The teal peels as it submits to gloaming,
and a round lucidity exposed abroad.
As the alien brilliance shines far away,
the maneuvered view is being cast.
'Tis dormancy that exacts dark period of tenure,
countdown from the zero hour.
Distant silhouettes grow versus fawning growth,
dipped in Luna's balm.
The etching of profiled naturalness acquiesces,
constant figurines masquerading the expanse.
Subtle contours architecturally restructured,
split seconds surrender serene scenes.
The solid realm maintained lifeless postures,
as the teeming formations made idle trims.
Mimicry traces the bestilled in passing,
perfect copies render mockeries silence.
Heights claim their surroundings,
as the tight-lipped verdant statuesque frames.
Depths summon intimate intrigue,
whilst burgeoning burrowed bedrock bound.
Exchanging brightness extremely bold,
lilt ventures its routine as the subject of Sol.
More or less defining shadows...
there's no difference that a day would make.
delicate leaf faerie
clothed in naturalness
befriended fox kit once upon a time
his all-knowing amber eyes trusted her
She knew she would never let him down
hypervigilant fox recognized her benevolence
Her empathetic soul spoke to him
there was a mystical connection
together they became a beloved duo
united by their love for the woods
oaks and elms kept their secrets
gentle northern winds whispered to them
other creatures cleared a path
their allegiance recognized and revered
their leaves glistened with joy
delicate leaf faerie
and her trusted companion, fox
patrolled the ancient woods
inspiring unity, listening to ancestral voices
beloved together
Scrambling over each other, trying hard to be heard, interrupting, yelling out, being yourself.
We knew how to do this when we were two, and three, and four, but they socialized it out of us.
So we grew up un-learning our naturalness, un-learning our playfulness, unlearning our potential.
Sure, they say, we are going to help you with your potential, but as we fit into the lines, conforming,
Winding our real selves into the pretenders others accept, we lose our potential, because it is
Not ours anymore, it is your idea of what ours should be. When we break ranks, and run for it,
You lament that you cannot control us. Thank goodness you cannot, for the leaders, the ones who have
Stood for hundreds and thousands of others have learned to scream their truth from the roof tops,
Challenging those who think controlling others is normal. There is nothing more abnormal than that.
A Marvelous Creation
A Woman’s Body
To admire our feminine form
is to delight in one of
the most exquisite works of creation.
The Creator made us complete:
full of curves and softness,
of strength and intuition,
of tenderness and fire.
Why were we taught to hide ourselves?
To bear the weight of shame?
Is it not through these very bodies
that the world endures?
There are cultures that still know
this ancient naturalness,
where the skin is free:
light and open to the elements.
We should be taught, from the very beginning,
to marvel at ourselves just as we are;
to know every inch,
to touch, to heal, to embrace.
They tried to turn our bodies into sin.
But I long for us to be able to look
at one another, once again,
with the holy, pure eyes of a child..
RULES OF ART
so painterly
executed
considering
the innovative
&contemporary
in true naturalness
space
of
utmost import
unusually
displayed
outshone by
admiration
unsurpassed
yet
involved
as
aspects
alluding
to
handling of light
sensations viewed
in discovered
differences
admirably
singled out
then
amplified
though
connections
relaxed in
numerous
hypothesis
where
motivations emerge
as notions
surviving
in conceivable phases
&
attributes
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
The old house stands still.
Rot has set in.
A flying termite caught in the webs of a dead spider, sway to the shrill of a ceiling fan.
All things sway.
Dreams rise and suffocate in the mouldering mortars
Falling on the adjacent tiled roof.
They scream, laugh, make love, declare the infiniteness
Of their finite existence through diatribes of reality and unreality.
They are passionate bunch,
Bound by their common desire to be. And blood.
And the house just is. It still is.
Once there were sparrows in the ventilators.
And envious swallows on the palm trees.
The ripples in the pond sing their dark, merry tunes
Licking away its edges,
And they shove and trample for the whiff of north wind.
Life persists in slow, lonely decadence.
The cactus on the roof thrives in monsoon and in summer.
Basil live and die, live and die trenched in the never ending circle
Of micro-civilisation.
The house harvests its own sustenance in the whispers among its bricks
That become a collective
And a roar is heard.
They pray to Earth.
The old house is defiant,
The old house is tired.
Its melting skin sizzles and stinks of industry of old,
A glorious past always in the distant like the horizon,
The promise of bright future exposed to the misery
That is naturalness of time.
The hammer rusted, weed has grown over,
They clinch onto the sickle, like oxygen.
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Form: Free Verse
Date: 02 / 11 / 2016
Growing up in a state of the country where all the magnificence is limited to either history books or fictional literature, one hopes for something more. This is definitely a political reflection than anything else, but 'the house' is not just a metaphor, it does exist, and so do the people living in it.
Wilde had a mirror
that mocked ugliness and
divinized beauty ...
Whitman had the pure
mirror of the waters with
that exalted naturalness
of the human ...
Rousseau was hiding
in the hidden mirror of
caves of the soul, for
understand the world ...
DALI refuted everyone with
mirror design
of the absurd ...
Sappho was mirrored in
lust and the wealth of the
sensory pleasure ...
Wallada had the mirror
of love, so free
as existential ....
I poor apprentice
as a poet, I only do
and I did a attempt to decipher so much
beauty in so many shades ...!
An aura of ease I carry with me.
A river, I’m rolling, just rolling along.
I move with an adaptability.
An aura of ease I carry with me.
Close to the ground, yet with fluidity,
and my heart often swells with glad song.
An aura of ease I carry with me;
a river, I’m rolling, just rolling along.
I’ll move with that naturalness called ease
on the pathway to my final sea.
Should waves arise from an extra strong breeze;
I’ll move with that naturalness called ease!
When I see sky blaze a last time cerise
and feel eternity beckoning me,
I’ll move with that naturalness called ease
on the pathway to my final sea.
For Paula Swanson's Contest: "I Carry With Me"
WILDE had a mirror
that mocked the ugliness and
deified the beauty...
Whitman had the pure
mirror of the waters with
that exalted naturalness
of the human...
Rousseau hid
in the hidden mirror of
caves of the soul, to
understand the world...
DALI everyone refuted with
mirror design
the absurd...
Sappho was mirrored in the
lust and in the wealth of the
sensory pleasure...
Wallada had the mirror
of love, so free
as existential....
me poor apprentice
of poet, I only do
and did attempted to decipher so much
beauty in so many shades... !
a natural awareness between Lilbrah and nature
graceful, winding, twisting surreal communication
Her favorites, the Lily of the Valley, comforted her eyes
Gently veined hands lent themselves
Calm, delicate, dainty frothy wedding petals
Of giant elegant, personified flowers not seen by some
Her piano playing hands grasped the stems
Freeing spiritual power of mother nature’s beauty
Purely innocent, she and these blossoms
Her natural snow hair as pure as a toddlers
Lilbrah listened to the membranes
United with naturalness of the summers day
Solstice once again letting her learn
earth’s thoughts through her well developed
inner knowing through the kindness of nature