Long Ophelia Poems
Long Ophelia Poems. Below are the most popular long Ophelia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ophelia poems by poem length and keyword.
I'd like to help you
but I'd have to go
far far out of my comfort zone
become accident prone
I'd have to face the bullets
and I have no bullet proof vest
on my chest
It's naked and bare
It's not that I don't care...
I'd like to help you
but I'm kind of helpless right now
don't ask me how
I got to this state
Anyway...it's too late
I see you drown
and I frown
unhappy with your Ophelia like mess
Yet...I do confess
I'd really like to help you,
but then....
where were you
when I was going down
about ready to drown...
Oh yes!
I remember!
You were "out of town"
I didn't see your face
there was no proffered grace
for me
none that I could see
I was strangely alone
forlorn
in my storm...
I'd like to help you, but you see
You never helped me
never took a bullet to save
watched me lowered to poetic grave
never deflected an arrow
that shot down this sparrow
never thought of going
out on the proverbial limb
cause you knew the outcome was grim
Not only
did not you offer a hand
but you joined the lynching band
Tearing asunder...
You joined in their thunder
and, yes, though it pains me to hear
your call for me to be near
as you flail in the tide
wanting me by your side
finally, devoid of pride,
I now know I must confide...
I'd like to help you, but you see
you never helped me
I'm not that steady,
and I don't feel ready
to help you now
I'd be dragged down somehow
I've just crawled out of the grave
I don't think I can save
someone...
who
never
ever
helped
me!
Eileen Manassian
"when there is nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire"
stars - your ex-lover is dead prelude
i am in the middle of my pool, and i am drowning in melancholy -
my brain, is craving not oxygen, but is craving you.
i'm missing what i cannot even see now, for my vision is going black with love, and for a second, i am ophelia in the lake, but i do know what happens to me the next time i awake.
this is why melancholy used to be considered a disease
for i am drowning, not just in water,
but in my own misdirected sorrow.
as my body shuts down, i crave only one last desire,
to rid the melancholy of everyone's soul, unraveled like a string from a roll of yarn.
though we might still die, we will die less sad,
and as our bodies decompose, our sadness will reach the sky and create sunsets and sunrises in colors we can't comprehend, yet it is still beautiful as tears are brought to our lonesome eyes.
21 july 2019
Writing Challenge 2, July 2019- Melancholy
Dear Heart
It was just before sunset in an early spring. Three horseback riders,
by chance, came together in the field by the wood and were having conversation. They were a lady and two gentlemen, well dressed, in horse riding outfits.
“How are you Ophelia?” The man in black coat greeted the lady robed in violet, with an unenthusiastic look. “We haven’t see each other for a while, have we?”
“Oh, your highness,” she replied in delight with the pleasant smile.
“It wasn’t me, but you were always avoiding me for some reason.”
Ophelia turned her face toward the other gentleman who was in red coat at her left. “Isn’t that true, My Lord?”
“When death dominates us, let it dominate us to sharpen the dagger; and when we resuscitate, hide our sharpened blade behind us to stab the foe in his heart.” The gentleman in red coat answered bluntly.
“I don’t quite understand. What do you mean, my Lord?” She asked with puzzled face.
”Never mind!” The gentleman in black coat shouted annoyingly. “For my cursed dagger’s sake, we must go back to the castle at once. Come, my dear friend Horatio.”
“Yes; my Lord Hamlet,” he drew reins to turn his horse to where
the Hamlet’s horse was, while explaining to Ophelia. “The ‘death dominates’ mean that a situation is in dilemma. The situation that of kill or to die.”
Even long after tow horseback riders ride away from the scene and
sun started to sink from behind the hilltop, Ophelia stood there on horseback and kept uttering. “When death dominates us, love may hate love itself, rather than love trust the love, the maiden pure heart.”
Note: A short story fabricated after appreciation of the picture of three elegantly dressed horseback riders in sunset field, using three main characters from Hamlet.
Deep in a forest a river flows
and there floats Ophelia, in death-
There is a deep silence, a hush and beauty in the landscape,
deep green water grass and drifting jade moss
so soft and delicate like satin it seems-
The water is dark and deep and sinister
yet the scene is one of peace-
Foliage lush and overgrown hangs over the river
and an old tree leans into the water
and growing everywhere are yellow buttercups
purple nettle and white daisies-
Ophelia holds a bouquet in one hand
the other she holds up where once flowers she held
the colorful blooms represent beauty and immortality-
Her rich brocade dress is sodden and heavy now
and her beautiful face sees only heaven-
Oh, my painters hand wants to continue
to paint the beautiful decaying and ever blooming forest
oh, over here more ferns . . .
more red poppies.. some purple, some white
more, more, more-
My hand is an extension of my mind, I have lost control,
time is nothing, time is suspended and I paint . . .
and my pseudo shall be Beauty-
_______________________________
June 19, 2017
Free Verse/Landscape
Copyright Protected, ID 910910
Landscape
Kim Rodriques
First Place
Inspiration - John Everett Millais, Ophelia, 1851/52
Annabelle Albatross’s amazing aquatics astound audiences at Atlantic airshows.
Bill Beaver’s barrel-rolling barely bumps bobbing buoys.
Crustaceans crowd cramped coves. Charlie Crab cowers, camouflaged creatively.
Dennis Dolphin dives deeply dragging down desirable delicacies.
Elegant electric eels electrify everything. Edgar Eel eats extensively.
Fancy Fanny Flounder flaunts fluorescent fins.
Gigantic gems glisten, giving George Guppy giggles.
Henrietta Hippo holds hands harmoniously hugging Henry Hippo.
Isabella Ibis is inching inland. Infant Iris Ibex idles indoors.
Jeremiah Jellyfish jests joyfully. Juvenile jellyfish join Jeremiah.
Kibitzing Kingfishers keep kids kicking. Katy Kingfisher knits knickerbockers.
Luminescent ladybugs land lightly. Light-hearted, lily-white lizards lounge leisurely.
Many manatee move marvelously, making mini musical masterpieces.
Noone notices ninety needlefish nestled neatly near nets.
Oscar Octopus ogles Ophelia Octopus openly. Ophelia observes Oscar’s oddities.
Pretty Penny Platypus playfully poses.
Quirky Quincy Quail quickly quits quacking.
Racy Rhonda Rattlesnake ran races ‘round round racetracks.
Sassy Sammy Salamander snoozed silently, snorting sand.
Tarsiers traverse terribly tall trees trying to track tiny termites.
Unique umbrellabirds update unclear unicorns under umbrellas.
Voiceless vultures vacate very vivid vegetation.
Wally weasel watches walrus’s wade, wisely waiting.
Xena x-rayed Xyli Xenops.
Young Yuri Yak yelled “Yuck! Yogurt!”
Zombie zebras zip-lined, zealous zookeepers zig-zagged.
Started July, 1996
Finished Feb, 2018
The key to feeling loved—attention
sharped or flatted drilled or bored,
love demands attention that’s the score—
marry the compound emotions of gist and jest,
sing the song of sorrow serene:
lay lie Ophelia on the waves of death
but grab the stage please.
Separated, longing, faceless, safety falsely felt
instruments of creation writhe in amour
lipping candied words across a span of white
following the cursor through the long night
a bouncing ball while music
plays, lovers seek delight.
Age, an unseen pain does not betray the seeking heart
wrinkled countenance denied by purloined words,
heat self-fingered brings release percussed by tapping
indexes, moans cascade to vibrato trills alone
Attention to the tale, the changing platform of the frame
love unknown, unfounded, forms within the detail of the page.
Contest: The Pain of Night
What did you do to me?
I am not who I used to be.
I'm painting my nails, doing my hair,
In my walk there is a flair.
Is this fair or unfair?
What did you do to me?
Your one gaze is glory.
My heart wants freedom, it's jumping from the cage,
It's maroon now, before it was just a boring beige,
Oh, what did you do to me?
I am not who I used to be.
I am happy and I am crying,
Sometimes, I'm flying and dying,
Mostly crying myself I found
When you're not around.
Am I in love?
Is love something you wove?
O sweetness, what did you do to me?
O goodness, set me free!
The day that you saw me for the first time,
Your face sparked up, only you heard a chime.
I'll never forget your mouth agape,
Your eyes wrapped around me like a drape.
I wanted to see myself through your eyes
And see what secrets your eyes disguised.
I have been thinking and thinking and thinking again
About the soothing pain, then I realised it wasn't the rain
As the tears I felt on my fingertips when I touched my face,
Maybe because I wanted you to embrace.
The night is petrifying and daylight exposes me,
Coffee won't wake me up let alone the tea,
I'm too deep thinking about you,
Devotion, my lungs feel blue.
I haven't tasted a word since
I caught your glimpse,
I haven't even touched a pen, let alone a notebook,
Love is heavy, I'll turn into Ophelia dying in a brook.
Now I want to taste the nectar of your lips,
God knows how many beats my heart skips,
I want to hold your hand and never let go,
Your arms around me, a heaven, please know.
O sweetness, O sweetness,
What did you do to me!
The quintessential of nyctophilia, wrapped in bridal attire, slowly and slowly as in somnambulism there goes the heroine of timeless tragedy to supersede her lovers feigned insanity.
Her beloved father is no more, being killed by her suitor's intrigued tyranny;
ignored to be drowned, to burn in the flame of plotted felony.
Jilted, to be startled by the selcouth performance of her handsome wooer's vile strategy;
there goes the most beautiful heroine ever to be the victim of fated irony,
immersed in senseless lunacy, to vanish from the sight of Hamlet's fatalistic eyes to bid adieu to the agony,
slowly and slowly to be disappeared into melancholic darkness from the dazzling maniac opaque sight;
there goes the Danish heroine of evergreen tragedy.
Ya know baby you're usually right
Center cut, intherace, that's your place
On target, red carpet, gotomarket
Hittin' the bull's eye, 'n baby, I'm your guy
Smack-Dab babe
Like the Nile, you flow the right way
Like Carlyle, know what ta say
With you, I'm okay
If ever I'm off and stray
Grab meaway, gimme a jab
Baby, that's Smack-Dab
You're like Ophelia, Antonin Scailia, multimedia, memorabilia
Honey, you're KarmannGhia! Oh, callmea cab
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're Lash La Rue, Peggy Sue, Scooby Doo, Mister Magoo
Honey, You're Super Glue! Wow! Back to the lab
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're so sure
We're at that stage, we needa sage
Honey, you're the rage!
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're like Al Gore, Dorothy Lamour, Dinah Shore, Za Za Gabor
Honey, you're no bore! Ain't never drab
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're so fab
Fit as a fiddle, Nelson Riddle, heat upthe griddle
Honey, you're in the middle!
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
You're Buster Crabbe, Colin McNab, take a stab, my bar tab
Honey, you're my rehab! Ah, the gift a gab
Baby, you're Smack-Dab
While it's true only you I adore
I really oughtta tell you more
Baby, Imma big time loser, a simple fleck
Honey, you're a sure winner, a stacked deck
You're my Madonna, only one I wanna
Someday you'll get rings 'n things
For now your praises, it's me who sings
I'd rope a Picasso with my trusty lasso
Ya know I'd buyeth, if I saw a good Wyeth
Honey, you're the latest 'n the greatest
Baby, that's Smack-Dab
Fire kissed you lay your ivory skin aglow
beneath the gaslight from the cheery floral globe
marooned in innocence he died not long ago
and left you to wear a ring and coal black robes.
Drained of emotion, still as death but in repose
beneath the gaslight from the cheery floral globe
you rest. Your ruddy cheeks the firelight bestowed
a vigor your weary heart can no longer hold.
Drained of emotion, still as death but in repose,
the shadows soften, pearl your skin, highlight the gold
in waves your silken tresses fall, their flow shows
a vigor your weary heart can no longer hold.
So like the Lady of Shalott, she's indisposed
for like Ophelia white as bone on a chaise she lays,
in waves your silken tresses fall, their flow shows
that sunshine kissed your crown oft on better days.
Let her not wake, we need no words to see her pain
for like Ophelia white as bone on a chaise she lays,
her heartbeat slows, his wraith goes, all's been in vain.