Long Opacity Poems
Long Opacity Poems. Below are the most popular long Opacity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Opacity poems by poem length and keyword.
She wears curtains in her eyes
Uses them like a surgical knife
Draws them closed each day
To cut and blank out her daily life
And she slides in the needle
That helps her to find
The matching opacity
Of her tortured mind
Her strength and her addiction
That gets her through each day
Of the life she has to lead
To find the money to pay
For the contents of that needle
So you think her eyes are dead
As you pass her on the street
Just two dull orbs in her head
And sometimes you may think
From her dull eyed stare
She’s not in this world but
In her own hell somewhere
And she nightly works the streets
Harassed, ridiculed, abused
And so many occasions
Just paid for and used
And sometimes for a while
Her eyes are opened wide
Until she slips in her needle
And relief pours back inside
And she resumes her life
As an underclass pawn
As those curtains in her eyes
Are closed and tightly drawn
Fare waits upon the table— hard and fluid kind:
three glasses filled with golden liquid, shards of ice;
another two- the amber-colored flow, defined
and clear, no ice, their smooth opacity concise.
Supported are four slices—lightly toasted bread
that stand on end, grouped, dry without a hint of spread.
Oh, such a wondrous setting—bread, the staff of life,
the basic need that fed all men since long ago,
life-giving manna all across the world, where strife
engulfs and threatens those of humankind that know
without the staff of life, their days come to an end—
without their daily bread, grim death will soon attend.
And, there along with bread, the liquid stands beside
to quench the thirst, provide as a life-sustaining mate.
Without this sacred flow to balance and subside
the dryness in the throat from bread—this would negate
the need for food—for fluid is our liquid gold,
and mixed with bread, the staff of life becomes two-fold.
April 14, 2014
As darkness wriggled into every place,
The land was governed by a veil of silence.
The previous vivid life had left no trace,
All but some crickets singing in defiance.
The mortal realm stood petrified as though
Succumbing to the conquest of the night.
However, in the sky, a tiny glow
Was rather willing to put up a fight.
What a one-sided clash of force
Conducted by the rebel and the tyrant,
And yet a brutal one without remorse
Between the little David and the giant.
Oh, how alike we were, the lonely star
That dwelled in an unfathomed galaxy!
Though separated by a space too far,
We both possessed a common destiny.
We were the beacons of sagacity,
The last remaining citadels of light
Amidst the ocean of opacity
That wrapped the whole world in the depths of night.
One's Shadowless Moment
That which we embrace
That which we shun
That which we serve
Assimilation
Man's strange bedfellow
Remaining often long in the wings
Allowing shadow-light to become constant
Inviting ghost-like impressions
Enjoin one's timeless opacity of reason
Edification reveals
Experience rejecting idleness
Determined to share
Clover-rich bounty
Free of any fear
Sagacity being void of threat
As predators ignorant
Discover wisdom unconquerable
Sageness
Prepares its ungloved hands
To wave its alert
Ready to allow
Hidden time to luminesce
Discernment
Cautious to act
Knowing empirical reality
Must first pass through
Emotion's unreliability
Patiently pauses
White hot focus holds sway
Peripheral resistance wanes
Fractions
Equations
Formulae satiated
Acceptance invites convergence
Consciousness
Once in asylum
No longer struggling to be
Stands naked at last
Heart and mind fused
Light embodying darkness
Like the ever-forming oneness
Of sunrise comprising sunset
Birth ripening awaited death
It’s winter in the year twenty-eighty-four
Hell has landed on every shore
Devilish eyes aglow as they rose to dominate
People now captive to a totalitarian state
Society is now ruled with an iron fist
You’ve seen those movies; you know the gist
Elders tell tales of an earth so free
Crossing great valleys and sailing the sea
I haven’t seen the sun since they poisoned the sky
We scurry in darkness, where the wealthy don’t pry
The air has a noxious opacity that stings my lungs
Those activists on pedestals just spoke in tongues
These decrepit streets are treacherous at night
Instead, we huddle together in flickering candlelight
Few can afford the luxury of simple power
The doomsday clock lurks just shy of the hour
We rummage through garbage for anything to eat
Surviving cold-drenched nights is no easy feat
The smell of street food, I’m teased by the air
I try not to stare, for that chance he may share
I’m enslaved by demons who pull the strings
There’s no escape; they’ve clipped my wings
Can’t we break this monotonous chain?
Let’s rip it all up and start again
I tearfully weep, “It’s not meant to be this way”
I’m tired of being some sick monster’s prey
Every night I dream of the same old prize
That the darkness be pierced by a golden sunrise
CHANGE
obvious
abrupt hiatus
distinctive
light
& shadow
contrastive
focussed
in
visible
autonomy
blurred
impressions
with
striking
effect
evolving
in
slight
elevation
subtly
subverted
in
fleeting
glimpses
dictated
by chance
OPACITY
phenomena
in distinct
contours
of
ornamental
simplicity
consolidated
in
controversial
conception
&
recollection
of repeated
quality
so consummate
&
finely drawn
contrast
uniquely
positioned
in a
genesis
of memorable
&
blissful feelings
accentuated
by curving
contours
announced
&enhanced
confirmed with emphasis
& enthusiasm
The meadow of my mind
dried desolate as the desert dune.
The mist of concealed passion
suspended with mystique opacity
in the sunk halcyon horizon,
waited for the southern wind
to surreptitiously blow
from the fervent sparkling sky
with your sequined charisma,
swathing the shades of my blue.
In the titular template of loneliness,
the secret motif of my longing
designed the lattice of desire,
carved the furtive image of my heart,
the quivering willow in the wilderness.
The dormant dreams blazed in inferno;
I breathed the ashen memory smoke
afloat stealthily in the sky of vacuity.
The design of desolation intertwined
the splinters of my desire icons,
flew on the trajectory of covert longing
to the clandestine corral of anonymity,
lay within the poignant crypt
as the skeletons in the closet.
The moist meadow of my heart
dried desolate like a desert.
The mist of parched passion
spread with mystique opacity
from the halcyon horizon that waited
for the southern wind to blow
from the fervent sparkling sky
with your sequined charisma,
draping the shades of blue within me.
If you’d turned into an emerald tree
in the far away fawn forest,
the baroque boughs would’ve reached out
to the seraphic sky of yearning.
In their soothing shade
I would’ve reposed for a while,
hear the song the leaves rustled
with the drops of the dancing rain.
In the titular template of loneliness,
the transient motif of dreams
the beginning engraved
in the million footsteps I etched for you,
tracing the course for the agonized heart
that quivered like the wilderness willow.
The configuration of the unyielding essence
repudiated the catharsis reprisal.
I found a place at the edge of your taciturn time,
sensed the sound of furtive silence.
As all the dreams blazed in an inferno,
I breathed the smoke of the ashen memory,
afloat quietly in the sky of nothingness.
In the space between the slices of my heart,
where the frail feelings got frozen,
the design of desolation intertwined
with the splinters of the icons of desire.
They flew away to the corral of anonymity
on the trajectory of covert longing,
lay within the poignant crypt as a secret kept.
In a realm of tranquil illusions, weary spirits find thrones of comfort,
Lives frozen in monotonous dances, dolls forgotten in the windows of dead time,
Middle-aged souls, ghosts of lost hope, nestle into routine,
The leaden embrace of stagnation promises them an eternity of divine peace.
Deep within the soul, fear sneaks in like an underground stream,
The fear that fragile order is a sandcastle, a vain illusion,
They retreat into mental bunkers, hiding their dreams and unspoken fears,
Hoping the walls of silence will keep change at bay, unspoken promises.
But time, a tireless sculptor, spins its chisel on the face of reality,
Each moment leaves a mark, a reminder of the ephemeral,
Stagnation is but an illusion, true life awaits beyond the walls,
Demanding the courage to step into the unknown, to emerge from labyrinths.
Between the walls of silence, souls sing the longing for freedom,
A yearning that pulses like a heart beneath resignation, beneath opacity,
Rays of light pierce through the cracks in the walls, reminding them of the river,
Life flows unceasingly, calling them to embrace their living destiny.
KOMOREBI
Pushing dense bush walking in pathless forest
under tree canopy, continuous.
At dawn sun rays penetrating at best,
torching dark tunnel , making luminous.
Sunbeams filtered by leaves and foliage
interplaying sheen and shade to astound.
Komorebi cast on dappled image
forming lovely lattice on forest ground.
Komorebi caused by leaf lamina.
Pretty patterns to adorn forest floor.
Sunlight is sieved by leafage patina.
Wonder and dreams of sunbeam to adore.
Morn glow of Komorebi ! End of night.
Dark shadowed tunnel on opacity,
finding flash of thin shafts of twinkled light.
Profound pure pristine tranquility .
When sunlight shines through tree in environ
Contrast of light and shadow to receive
on re-energised radiant ion,
Komorebi to charm at morn and eve.