Long Operatic Poems
Long Operatic Poems. Below are the most popular long Operatic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Operatic poems by poem length and keyword.
In riming realms
of crystal contemplations -
frozen water-vapor meditations
and chilled flutes
filled with zodiacal-light musings
of ancient cosmic dust
dancing in the arms of Sol..
windswept operatic reveries
rise and fall
as her stirring soprano
tickled by the chanting of icicle chimes
gathers momentum
in strengthening sprays
of frosted musical notes adrift in broken chords
she bestrides
a clouded steed colored mother-of-pearl
flowing with fury
within which beats a blustery heart
surging at jet stream speeds
on the clattering beat of hailstorm hooves
from streamer-skies of the northern dancers
they fly aloft
on arctic gales of lyrical laughter
igniting the imagination
of her freezing fire
burning now with a blistering whip
and a frostbite nip
that sinks its tingling teeth deep
sailing
a supernatural stage
amplifying—
her aerated soprano soars
in polar vortex arias
as an avalanche of glazed trinkets
—descendants of her fertile femininity
skydive
in shivering sixfold symmetry
falling
in fierce flights of fancy
as she cyclones on consecrated currents
with wild abandon
escalating
in twirling trills
of glass beaded squalls
swirling her iced eiderdown skirts aflare
baring tempest thighs
storming with a Siberian sting!
..and as her electric eyes spark
luminous with lightning
she buries you in a blizzard
of opalescent mistletoe berries
and wanton whims.
The Power of the Manifest:
"Love Nest"
Dinner at sunset,
the delectable table is spread
before a vista of deep pink,
burnt orange, persimmon
and shades of violet blue,
below us emeralds linger
towards the sapphire of life,
real, shining and rippling,
the flow,
alabaster sailed tall ships
out the window
breaching a wake
on dreams towards us,
safe harbour,
a room with a view
and a bridge
inviting the muse
to cross the bow,
to stay
to whisper
with the Siren
secrets sensual, singing
southern operatic tunes
in passionate hues
beneath the now becoming
diamond strung
sky of midnight
indigo blue
one becomes
the two
in the quiet hours
An eagle, far from
the safe confines of
his homely nest,
wings extended intense,
hovers outside,
considers the feast,
then flies through the open window
he stays for a while
longer than intended
lives without hood
and fettered bell ringing talons
with a calm sea'd mistress
who's murdered crows
to
manifest
the future
in it's
calm and peaceful
Nowness
He is free to
come and go
to cross the
Bridge
to find the
Tree of Life
the golden hounds
to cross the
the bough
the air breathless, burns
"as honeycomb sway in the tree..."
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Make It Wit Chu" /Queens of the Stone Age
https://youtu.be/G9RA5v9Hy44
1. Bow
The bow is the forward part of the hull of a ship or boat, the point that is usually most forward when the vessel is underway.
a weapon for shooting arrows, typically made of a curved piece of wood joined at both ends by a taut string.
When did music begin
for us?
For you?
When did musicians separate
from Earth's music?
Were we thereby commodified
as professionals
instead of cooperative healers
engagers
story tellers
poets
lyricists
dancers
singers
instrumentalists
operatic staged performers,
higher and brighter
smarter and richer?
When does muse therapy end
in talent competitions?
without cooperative EarthMusic
held silently
against sacred MeWe
resonating indigenous wisdom
Muse/Music
Professional Ego
informed by
CoPassioned EcoResonant
bicameral cooperative consciousness.
When
and how
and why
does music renew
enlighten
empower
ego/eco-resonant
muses?
When does sacred music
therapeutically begin
and dissonantly
tragically
traumatically
degeneratively end
warm
thriving
resonant memories?
Could music have begun
long before we found
a name for amuse?
Where do sacred muses begin resonating?
Anticipating harmonic echoing
reverberating silence
sourced from deep resonant respect
for shared regenerative potential
win/win anticipating
coupling
recoupling
climaxing
amusing musicians
Yet also decoupling
from actively hoping
co-passionately
co-empathic
ancestral deep tissue memories
Indigenously healthy
resonantly wealthy
and wisely singing
multigenerationally resilient inside voices
dancing robust outside
ecotherapeutic health
wealthy mind/body
natural muse function
within spiritual music flow
bicameral resonant choices
Dialectically
bilaterally fractal
four-square spiraling
muse-mergent dynamic compass
conscientious MeWe consciousness
of a resiliently compassionate bodhisattva muse
Integrity's therapeutic transparent
and sacredly vulnerable
empowering Left
and enlightening Right
co-passionately multi-regenerational
Health muse Voices
engaging EarthWealth
indigenous spiritual song
and natural dance
cooperatively resonant
resourcing Choices.
The practice of integrity
resiliently therapeutic;
The praxis of cooperative therapy
resonantly integral.
Sing to This Coming Sing
Before now I was the sort to by-pass listening to any sort or cousin or trail of operatic solos especially sopranos but this year has brought a sudden discovery enlightening change coming for me with Christmas giftings of sacred or devoutly-held hymns
and carols so holy such spirit-touching choirs or duets as Andrea Bocelli singing “Hallelujah” with his eight-year-old daughter making me want to see it because the written intro said the critics said “Hallelujah” had been performed so often in so many ways that there was no way to re-do it but Bocelli and his daughter did (Oh, bring the children unto me) as I heard and saw at least before it brought on the tears blocking my vision envisioning to the profound music the nativity with my soul’s
imaging set so afire it leapt in such joy tears came as my cup overflowed with Jesus-understanding Joy and thankfulness for God’s graciousness in his radical planning peace on earth and redemption of mankind to assist for peace throughout the cosmos
so all the stars might sing for the birth of his son hallelujah which we dare exclaim those glad tidings in songs leading on to a very caught love of singing and discovering its vast maps to being-expressing
everything from want to awe song illumes our spirits when all other possibilities desist then with a history of music-gifted composers we are so moved to stand together in symphony to again launch our souls into a common aria of a perhaps lost but now certainly recovered Hallelujah! Oh All Glory to God!
********. ********. *******=. ********
(c) sally Young eslinger12/20/20
Thanks be to God!
Without partisan doubt
the opposite of bliss
could be hate,
for bliss blinds dyspeptic,
double-binds synaptic
and fast-fades ephemeral,
as if it too soon
had never been.
Hate broods and breeds
festers and feeds
on past angry memories
fading forward future fears
of empty echoing
hot flowing paranoia
feasting on should have beens,
could have becomes,
if not for ruinous mortality.
In life's end,
defeat,
in our beginning,
terror of relentless trauma.
Fearing the opposite of my bliss
could be your rage,
blindingly synaptic,
fading back to slow-burning distrust
of animal life's long-suffering challenges,
anthro on anthro.
I don't recall rage
against the weather,
or mosquitoes,
or even swarming bees.
Rage,
contrasted to more generic angry fear-filled panic,
overpowers Earth's most triumphal terrors
then fades back
as if it had never been
any more than hyperactive mistrust,
bad faith
unsafely harbored in swarming seas of dissonant stress.
Blissful rave through hateful rage,
Earth's vast embodied stage
for feelings flowing like light and fading dark clouds
before sun and star light's constant witness,
waiting for Earth's multiculturing humane tribes
to learn full-octaved harmonics
like preverbal infants
learning which operatic brights
bring bliss,
which bring rage,
and what will outrageously radical raves feel like
to timelessly sustain,
living full-stretched crown and root
systemic MotherTree resonance.
Gorgeous Brady was only ten
when he grabbed an old violin,
which belonged to his wealthy grandpa
Jacob and started playing, " Lacrimosa.
Some chords sounded too awkward,
he persisted and finally got them right;
why did he play that song never heard?
Had he in mind a sweet serenade night?
Brady didn't show a sign of boredom,
but continued playing with confidence,
the small theater was missing an audience;
he didn't mind, he wasn't seeking stardom.
One could hear his impeccable passion through his music,
the notes were loud and shook the clock's pendulum;
his speed picked up a dramatic, operatic momentum...
a chorus of Ooh's Oh's would make it sound angelic.
" Bravo! " A well-dressed man stepped forward,
Brady stared at him and smiled for the compliment,
" May I know the name of this genius imitating Mozart?"
" I'm Brady and I live in the cobblestone building."
" Then you must be Jacob's nephew: the owner of the theater! "
Brady nodded and shook the maestro's hand sensing its power;
would you like to team up with Mark the orchestra pianist?
He agreed and went on to became a famous violinist!
RightBrain's eco-geometric metaphysical systems,
ecopolitically optimize rational-primal networks,
co-empathically trust
ecologically healthy LeftBrain
deductive-orthodox BusinessAsUsual
scientific revolutionary discovery
as regenerative SacredArt Fusions
bicamerally yang/yin integrative balancing
Ego/EcoPolitically Positive ReGenerative
of/for Permacultural (0) Earth-spiralscaping
Reverse-Temporal 4DNA/RNA empathic-mensional
DeCompositional through Regenerative dipolar spectrum
Climate-Health Developmental
Dialectal-Nutritional CoOperative
ExteriorYang-Uracil/InteriorYin-Cytosine 4D fusion-doublebinding function
NeuroSensory CoEmpathic-Trust
EnCulturating ConSciences,
equivalently both/and contrasting
appositional zeroism as coincidentally notnot balance co-arising
notnot cognitive-affective dissonance
of/for deep learning pathological unraveling rememory,
multi-polypathic paradigmatically reconnecting
ego/eco bicameral ecosystemic consciousness
comprehensively democratic
fertile
regenerative
bicamerally unfolding/refolding climate-health networks
for Bodhisattva-Messianic (0)soul co-operatic sacred climates,
ElderRight through Left Brain Balancing multicultural
cobinary occupiers.
My non-communication
and dissonant
dysfunctional miscommunication,
and occasionally aggressive
challenging win/lose dogmatic
refusal to bother with communication,
These all degeneratively punish
and unpleasantly neglect
open systemic civility
With marginalizing effects
further reinforcing
disempowered
and unenlightened
trauma-avoiding behaviors
Toxic for those most wounded
and disabled
by LeftBrain dominant
monotheistic divine omnipotence
v hedonistic human non-verbal
non-violent impotence
A non-communion corporate spirit
of LeftBrain individual is supreme
divisive worldview
harboring "gifted" classrooms
and partisan parties
and elitist societies
for StraightWhite
anthro-hierarchical evolutionary power
to suppress RightBrain
healthy multicultural Trust
wealthy with indigenous
natural/spiritual Beauty.
Resonant resilient communication
strings of thriving v merely surviving
history may invite a long operatic organic epic
but does not necessarily suppress communion
of non-verbal healthy-wealth intuitions,
does not repress
felt polysensory-neural healthcare
community
Passionate gratitude
positive attitude
inspired by sacred place
of generous natural Trust
meets secular incorporated time
to co-invest in ubiquitous spiritual Beauty
Communicating mindful thanks
humble joy
reminds me
my "disability" labels
lie uncomfortably close
to dis-enabling resonant integrity's
deepest sacred potential,
resilient love communication
in multicultural experiences
of abundant
serene win/win
resonant communion
Wide passions
of co-empathic gratitude
for each day of Truth thought
is also Beauty felt
growing in multi-sensory resonance
neuro-systemic health-is-rich-wealth
polyculturing resilient communications
Prevailing over non-communication
and dissonant
disempowering miscommunication,
and occasionally aggressive
challenging oppositionally defiant
unenlightened refusal to bother
communicating sacred
space expanding
compassionate co-passions.
Now Buxton is the place to stay when hiking in “the Dales”,
But your schedule’s shot to pieces if you’re troubled by strong gales,
On a campsite in the Pennines the wind was blowing bitterly
I confided to the warden’s wife, “Next year I’m off to Italy”.
So I asked my boss for overtime and accrued a tidy sum,
My girlfriend don’t like pasta so she didn’t want to come,
I planned to see some galleries and architectural sights,
I borrowed several brochures and I booked some budget flights.
I met a waiter in a restaurant on a vibrant street in Pisa,
He’d offer me a holiday if I were not a geezer.
Could I shake off the tradition or am I wedded to my gender?
It’s a fashionable mission. Should I let him call me Brenda?
I like the foods of Italy, they’ve tonnes of tasty meals
But would I ever feel relaxed in a necklace and high heels?
Oh I’d return from Tuscany with fond romantic tales
Of operatic ecstasy and tall Italian males.
People shed their inhibitions, often break their wedding vows,
Would he buy me splendid dinners if I wore a skirt and blouse?
Could I elongate my lashes and step out in jewels and finery?
Is it time to leave this closet and declare myself non-binary?
Should I use the ladies’ restroom or still hang-out in the gents’,
Simply tell the folks around me that I’m sitting on the fence?
If I walked into the barber’s shouting "Rid me of this beard!"
Would he relish my exuberance, or think me rather weird?
I’d talk no more of football teams or the merits of real ales,
I’d think about nutritious food and the colour of my nails.
I would give up wearing neckties and my slacks would be less dismal,
I might sit at a reception desk, though the pay would be abysmal!
I might alienate mates if I keep changing genders,
Should I book into a clinic? - no the prospect sounds horrendous!
I still prefer to lead when I’m dancing down at gigs
And I’ll be auctioning my wardrobe full of brassieres and wigs.
My local mosque has two approaches, men and women are divided,
They’ll soon need an extra doorway, for committed undecided.
Subdivided laundrettes are another implication,
I think I’ll ’phone that waiter and decline his invitation.
There have been operatic Voices
in my aria love and tragic fear lives,
each one speaking of epic PermaCultural Paradise hopes,
some actively seeking more cooperatively organized habitat,
a student/teacher deep learning few,
green ecoschooled in some polypathic way
To hear LoveVoices mostly scrabbling through disorganized pipe dreams
of this unrealistic Win/Lose violent culture-devouring reality
surrounded by an outdoor mostly WinWin Earth
of economic
and political
and personal
and community
and family cognitive-affective climate health
and chronic YangEgo dominant stress disorders
Rather precisely planted
where we had originally intended
the sun best never shine
in a public kind of way
While we continue more actively hoping for PermaCultural Paradise
for growing abundantly healthy wealth,
sometimes curious therapies
always rooted in multicultural self-growing cooperative guilds,
courageously resilient
SelfHealth and OtherWealth Mutual Trust Care
ZeroZone Democracy CoOperative Contracts and Win/Win Constitutions
Resilient/Confluent Body/Mind Nature/Spirit Ego/Eco
health/care cooperative trust designing,
paradise daily implementing pro-life strategies
as appropriate to resilient ego/ecosystems
through all four seasons of development
and eight regenerations of Operatic Scale.
Each with our own DNA-fractal structured
holonic reasoning epic memories
of deep sacred ecology
theologically resonant positive light energy
multicultural meaning,
nature ethological,
and spirit vocational health/wealth humane/sacred purpose
Declared transparently
with full WinWin operatic
Fertile epic Voice.