Long Operas Poems
Long Operas Poems. Below are the most popular long Operas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Operas poems by poem length and keyword.
Mom had six children
when she moved far from the nest
to a remote area without relatives or friends.
Her lifestyle suddenly changed
from urban to rustic ~
Playing the part she did
of Eva Gabor in Green Acres
but in real life.
Between setting up a new home
laundry mending ironing
cooking baking cleaning
grocery shopping and school lunches,
Not much time to herself ~
she by chance discovered
the lure of soap operas
and it changed her life.
Suddenly she was extra motivated
to finish her work with time to spare
saving the ironing for soap opera hour.
And so she’d welcome into her home
the whole cast of Edge of Night
with their dramatic theatrical lives ~
she’d bond laugh and cry
And her life was full again.
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Let me conjure some mystical moonstone melodies
A symphony of sapphire strains and ruby rhapsodies
A harmony of hessonite hymns and pearlescent praises
A litany of lapis lazuli lullabies and limestone lyrics
Amethyst anthems join in chorus with beryl ballads
Carbuncle canticles rise up along with diamond ditties
An emerald euphony of jasper jingles and obsidian operas
A magical mix of turquoise tunes and aquamarine arias
A playlist of peridot poetry and rainbow-garnet rhymes
A musical medley that mesmerizes with its magnificent sparkle
A gleaming, glittering gem of a song
Moonstone melodies that meet a Maestoso finale
A beautiful,
radiantly pregnant,
lady liberty
swings back and forth across this Left to Right predominating stage
of political history.
As she recesses toward Left stage climax
she recedes from LeftBrain audience's co-evolving view
for one ecstatic, yet intellectually ambiguous, moment
sweeping a revolutionary change
away from monocultural history,
to re-emerge in royal blue skirt of virginal regenesis
and full-breasted naked multigenerational torso
laughing with us
at how hilarious this bicamerally polytultural opera
has resolved ultra-violating dissonance
and nuclear divisive fears
of nature-spirit fertile fusions.
This pregnant lady sings
in full-octave resonance
with us
as we become HerStorically ReStaged,
degenerating unwoken hypnotic LeftBrain trance
to once again regeneratively engage
nondual co-empathic stage presence
Swirling swings of spiraling inside/outside
mind/embodied-consciousness,
as day invites dream
dawning yet another radiant
singing,
liturgically dancing
Gaian evensong.
We're not even theoretically together
until this humane Lady Liberty sings
co-operatively with us,
globally togathering,
consuming and producing full-octave resonant resolutions,
resolving swinging spirals
Left to Right to regenerate Left again
toward Crown/Root
Sage/Muse eco-dominantly resonant circles
away from YangLeft dominating over YinRight.
YinRight inductions reconnecting
religioning toward more transparently empowering operas,
replacing patriarchal economic terrorism
with matriarch/patriarch musical-comedy
agapic feelings leading erotic thoughts
Cooperatively owned economics
with bipartisan co-governing politics,
no longer waiting to conjoin
this synergetic singing
pregnant Gaia's
laughing full-term compassions
Beautiful,
eternally pregnant climax promise,
liberated lady
swirling to and fro
with Left and Right winged stages
of Gaia's political history.
As my wife once taught me
Women knew all about trimming
and cleaning
and harvesting the fertile forests of Earth
long before I ever thought to depilate my back
and other parts.
As my wife continues teaching me
I am not quite sure what she means
but it feels important
to more than just our reforesting relationship
and its odds of continuing
into future regenerative climaxes.
As my wife predicted,
I forget to carefully listen
until she culminates with climaxes.
And then she surely owns my belated attention.
The matriarch voice of my life
bewitches,
bothers,
and bewilders me
while we fall in love
we become ecopolitically out to lunch,
indefinitely,
reforesting and ecotherapizing
without fear or anger-marketing
about how to transcend vulnerable boundaries
to mutual empathic nakedness.
This matriarch voice and I
love (0)-sum WinWin reforesting
as health care co-operative wealth management
of mutually accessible climates
for spiraling regenerativity trends
externalized as Yang,
internalized reforesting,
reweaving waves of notnot Yin,
wu-wei,
RealTime 4D Ego/Eco-Balancing
Falling in love with Yin
all over again,
PermaCulturing Operas
sung and danced
while remembering
as my imaginary wife continues teaching me
Thought Experiments
through real fractal double-binary
informating
co-gravitating
bilateral ego/ecosystemic time.
I am not quite sure what she means
but it feels wu-wei important
to more than just our reforesting-deforesting relationship
and its odds of even continuing
into future
through past reweaving
regenerative climaxes
of healthy wealth
optimally sustaining
maintaining EarthLivesMatter.
This girl, old so and so
Has an affair with what's his face
Every one in town knows about
Except for what's her name
This guy from somewhere or another
Shows up after years lost at sea
Everyone is so surprised
Except for...you know who I mean
In the middle as my stomach grumbles
I go to the store for a snack
Three days later I turn back on the tube
They're at the very same spot they were when I left
This little blind boy with his seeing eye dog
Is in a hospital bed with issues
I loudly exclaim these darn allergies
And run back to the store for more tissue's
This mystery man goes down in flames
In a fiery plane crash
Wouldn't you know, as soap operas go
Two days later the guy is back
That's about all I've gotten out of the soaps
As this week draws to an end
But come Monday midday, what can I say
They'll start all over at the same place again
I arrived early today for the appointment made months ago,
And began the interminable wait to see the medico.
When I checked in it was already half-past noon.
The nurse said, "Take a seat and we'll be with you soon!"
The room was full of people in every kind of condition.
I thought, "Lord! Have mercy! Deliver me from this perdition!
While waiting I'll surely contract a contagious disease I fear,
And be much worse off than when I arrived in here!"
I thumbed through time-worn magazines dating from nineteen fifty-three,
And stared with glazed eyes at unctuous soap operas on TV.
Swallowed stale coffee by the liter from a styrofoam cup,
Not so patiently waiting for my name to be called up!
I tried to snooze but that soon became a sad delusion,
With rowdy kids and constant babble - just too much confusion.
The little old lady next to me told of her every pain and ache,
As I lent a compassionate ear, striving to stay awake!
I was almost tempted to order in a scrumptious pizza pie.
My stomach was growling and suppertime was drawing nigh.
When at last the nurse in all her puffery before me did loom,
And finally ushered me into the harried doctor's examining room!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
My Life is a song sung in a
series of repetitive inferior notes.
I’m unable to record mellow melodies,
as my violin strings continually play
with reckless violet villains.
As I sit and replay recitals of
bleeding love harmonies.
My soul is shattered and sunken
in silent sonnets.
I'm flickering through the tears of
tainted years of hexagon heartbreaks.
Unable to trust poetic phrases from a
cedar conductor whose musical agility
makes my saxophone eyes sing.
I conceal my sunrise hope in a
chaotic chorus of anguish;
which I play to my sympathetic
amber anxiety, to justify the
lonesome path I’ve chosen to hike.
I fail to embrace the serenity
of their light rap rhymes
in my erratic brain.
Instead, I reminisce
about my sorrowful pity puddle spells,
when countless deceptive trumpets
stole my musical directives
destined for classical charts.
I am forsaken in operas of
maroon misery serenaded by
these weeping, wailing windpipes.
I desire to awaken my
ancient pop culture life.
The sangria sunrise era
when only rainbow hits escaped my pen.
I recall I wrote reams of rhythmic sheets;
filled with halo heroes,
painting electrical euphoria
upon Harvard's crisp horizons.
A time when youthful bands sang of
everlasting devotion,
glowing glee upon my ebony core.
My fuschia feet are wounded and
depleted from my frequent falls in
my ballet of ruby romances.
I aspire to dance to all the Jazz
freedom beats and not break-dance
with soprano snakes.
As I’ve detected, they are thirsty for my
rhythmic rays for their
applause and accolades to reign.
Now is the time for my piano to
recreate my platinum diamond hits.
For my lyrical pieces to thrive,
I must retire my historical woes to the
rear of my Broadway sympathy show.
I accept this is the only way
to win my desired Tony prize.
My world spins round
too fast most times
from Greek deep roots
on Black Sea ports
crossing Jordan's River
on Catherine's Great
trains meet sailboats
greeting sea planes
flying off to sports unknown
throughout Lake Odessa Highway.
Where Ottomans
blend Spanish matadors,
heroes for Earth's day
and night bleeds forth
a calvary of SunGod force
to please titillating whims
of Lake Odessa's middling class czarinas.
I can't go home again
to straight places never born.
My mind can wavey roam
and try to swim
and fly to where and what
and whom and why
we might have been
if we had built
a fine fair fortress
for peace that loves to rock
and sing sad songs
of what brilliant sights have been
in resilient Lake Odessa.
Instead of gangs
and clicky clacks
we learn monopolistic quacks
to flap and honk
like disturbed Canadian geese
Transubstand she ate
where great America
begins to end
through Lake Odessa's mean clean streets
Not too busy
self-righteous
sleep deprived
and deprogrammed lose to lose
to win our way
back home again
where Lake Odessa healthy meets
and wealthy greets
Love's polyamorous EarthMother role
as played by odysseys of We
writing comic operas
only eros kids can consensually see
was what Me loved
most secretly
in long lost Lake Odessa.
We need a better god for now
bringing peach tree jams
singing immortality
of love as healthy wise
Reframes lost unwealthy loves
to live in jesting jarring jokes
of honeyed sweet corn
thorn tested streets
tasting ancient salad Greeks
on shores of Lake Odessa.
We reunion back
to save each other
from what might have been
without sly rudders
Tipping posts from wu wei mothers
restoring crystal castle love
of unformed flows
that buzz with lifetime mystery
and retiring tours
that sag with straightline history
Spinning sprays
bewitching licking waves
lapping soft and sandy
on long gone sacred skies
of sanguine Lake Odessa.
Wick lit candles provided lead the path to the cemetery
Event that honor loved ones who have passed and are buried
La Catrina walks side by side with kindred spirits marching in sync
Crowns of chrysanthemum flowers of the month are pretty in pink
Offerings of sweet bread and mezcal, for the afterlife, plenty for all
Mexican Dia De Los Muertos, a family’s time for reflection
Eyeliner and charcoal shadow, skull-faced paint is our tradition
Nudging is “Fall-back” one hour—daylight savings time engages
Our Thanksgiving blessings for our annual harvest of ages
Veteran’s Day celebrated, bereaved ones in tears
Election Day on the first Tuesday of every four years
Mascarade balls, ballets, operas, and all that jazz
Birthstone rings sparkle with yellowish-orange topaz
Eleventh month, the Full Beaver Moon appears in Gemini
Rapturous is the moon in November’s blissful sky
No voice is whispered in the void
Explosions inside the nest of stars
Ignite into the operas of the galaxies
Noiseless vacancies full of mysteries
Evolve, remain as vacuous as they are
Space, bridled by the fire balls of debris
To be explored once in the field of vision
That seem to come from nothing
Gone nova moving forward over eons
That follow in the open cosmic sea
Alternate universes yet to be observed
The ones with six dimensions or more
Vacuums pouring out pure particles
Emptying into something still to be determined
Into the unknown as wide as real as motion
To be defined, farther out in space
Farther than the mind can comprehend
Sounds that can't be embraced or heard
Out there, distances between the planets
Is enormous, before and after they are gone
So long measured in the calm before the storm
Reality is not mentioned here or there
Since there is no reference point to find
Too close for comfort as worlds collide
We resolve to change existence while in orbit
Bridged by alternate universes where planets rise
Stars go nova all the time
Elastic in an ocean of provocateurs
In the minus hours of creation
Jagged stones became much smoother
Edges compress in their rotations on
Filled in with shape and form
Earth was born in orbit
Weather forces wear down rocks
One size fits the planet well in gravity
Profound and rounded in ways too hard
To understand or simplify in cosmic terms
Conditions to strange to fathom circumstances
Or describe as fiction from long distances
More ovals on the horizon grow
Escape velocity stretched to the limits
On the elliptic mist where history lives
Rocks expand into the planets heavens
This all happens in split seconds over time
To fall all together from the sky to where we are
In every instant that can be conjectured on
Thought, as reality unfolds back on itself
Where it all began in silent matter conjured up
In the void, there is no noise
Space listens to questions postulated
Over distances filled in by vacancies