Long Orchid Poems
Long Orchid Poems. Below are the most popular long Orchid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Orchid poems by poem length and keyword.
Thanks to you all
Thanks to those who come to
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Thanks to those who read my
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me, avoid my poems, block
and ban me from their list
Thanks to you all
I’ve no eternity here, all of me
from least to chest, best to edge,
sharpen blade of new paddy leaves
jeopardize my torn nib of ink
in the field of writings graph
Maybe I couldn’t write any word
for beauty and stunning young girl
in comprehension, in passion and
in my fashionable heart
Maybe I couldn’t write charming note
of flower’s petals, striking fragrance,
in my perpetuity lake of quills
Maybe I couldn’t draw the sexy body of
rose, lotus, tulip, sunflower, orchid,
lily, daffodil… etc in my vulnerable
reef of poetic expression
Maybe I couldn’t draw the colors magic
of rainbow in my infatuated fallen
soaked feathers with November rain
Maybe I couldn’t inscribe the nature
the cosmos, the solar system, the ocean,
the black hole, the space, the sky, the stars,
the planets, the galaxies, the meteors, the
gravitational power…etc in my slumbering
wings of writings
Maybe I couldn’t plant the meditational
tree into the pure heart of words, I couldn’t
select the seeds of immortality in my
ascetic madness and magma script
Maybe I couldn’t greet the autonomy flying
of Cockatiels, Parakeets, Canaries, Finches,
African Grey Parrots, Budgerigars, Cockatoos,
Conures, Macaws, Poicephalus…etc in my
unintelligible incarcerated language
Maybe I couldn’t hail the abode for Labrador,
Bulldog, German, Poodle, Beagle… etc and
Maine Coon, Egyptian Mau, American Bobtail,
Ragdoll…etc in my materialistic
harvesting terminology
Maybe I couldn’t sleep with power of poems,
dream to be a finest classic or modern poet
in my kingdom of pen, paper, ink, writing
table-chair and lamp
Notwithstanding all these, I thanks to those
who come here at least one time daily,
erratically and read, write, share own
thoughts and comment frankly
Thanks to you all a lot. Thanks and love you
all. From me always ready the rose without
thorns and love for you all, although you bleed
my heart by thorns stinging
-November 14, 2018 Chattogram
////
DEDICATED TO POETRYSOUP.COM and ALL POETS-POETESSES OF THIS ESTEEMED LITERARY SITE
I was an inscrutable, capricious mystery writer, like a pure mystery of days;
And I had composed best selling novels, like westering sun's scarlet phase.
An unparalleled passion for writing, had for quite long been the motivation,
Behind novels which captured hearts, like pink clouds, drifting in formation.
My office desk faced the picture window, near the border of riotous blooms;
And sunny views enriched often eager eyes, owing to birds of many plumes.
Friends were a forever force in my life, like the natural floods of floundering,
Or as sun and moon meet in an eclipse, darkening heyday, with no warning.
Fairy-like forests, and fields of colored flowers, flamed with furious abandon,
Frequently, as fulgent family found one, to dazzle brighter than amber sun!
I lived in the house of mist mysteries, in haze shrouded, mighty mountains;
And each cherry dawn doled surprises, like roving redbirds in the thousands.
So sleepy in sun-drenched summer, my silent street was stained with hues,
In new modern, stylish, songbird days, like a gold treasure you cannot lose.
Neighbors would navigate narcissistic night, bearing an apple pie, or a joke;
Sharing fun and noisy laughter, like a blue undersea volcano, magma awoke.
Birds swept peaks of sculpted, stunning mountains, in the hot, daisy season,
And sky and the earth merged twice a day, in affinity hues of love cohesion.
The naked man orchid shivered with breezes, like quivery trees of November,
And Johnny Jump Up puckered at lemon sun, like a sour taste remembered.
In a sapphire sea near the mountains, a friend and I set out sailing one day,
As a youth follows wildest, golden dreams. Yet, heavy fog descended to stay.
Were we heading for wide open water, or drifting to shores of purple flowers?
That danger held a lovely mystery, like adventure during the nighttime hours.
Hour after rosy hour, we were drifting blind. Our motor had long since died;
Like green butterflies, questing for hours, in a place pink daisies lately cried.
We were afraid of being lost forever, so Pearl and I joined hands and prayed,
Also praying for our downhearted families, if fate's hand would not be stayed.
After many anxious, vagrant moments, a foghorn sounded, loud and so near;
Our desperate prayers were answered, by the voice of our Savior, very dear!
The day drew near..........
Upon the wind,
so light and fair
Flowers falling through the air
The South Wind Prince,
came to Castle Heartstone
Wearing a crown..........
Shining like the sun
Gold and bright
The Prince, spreading the wind
Warm and light
The petals began to fall............
The measured walk to the Great Hall
The Crown, shining bright
The Summer Queen ensuring this day........
Warm and light
The petals play
The pennants flew,
a blaze of colour too
Such joy to behold,
in Castle Heartstone.......
The shining gold
For, The Kings were there.......
Queens too........
Upon the Royal Thrones
The Crowns, shone bright
The cloaks glittered..........
On this day of wedding light
The Prince entered the Great Hall..........
His hair, so fair
It glowed in the light.........
His Crown, bright........
To see the Princess..........
His heart did fall
For, the Princess was waiting serenely.....
At the end of the Great Hall
Her dress, shimmering ,
with flowers of every colour..........
Every hue
Her hair, plaited around a crown of gold........
She was beautiful too
The Prince joined her,
proud and tall
The Great Hall was filled with flower scent
Blew with a warm wind airy and light
The Heartstone on the North Wall
Shone bright..........
The Tapestries glowed........
For this was right.........
A union of wind light and flower bright
The Spring Queen and the Princess of Magic........
Created a new orchid...........
The Wind Flower........
This was brought to them in the hall,
for this was the hour..........
The orchids beauty could be seen by all
They were blessed by all,
who were in the Great Hall
The love, showed
The Heartstone glowed...........
The stained glass West Wall,
shone with all its might
The Tapestries illuminated the night
Starlight,
Flower bright,
Faerie glow,
Magic to show
The South Wind Prince,
carried the Flower Princess out of the Hall.......
On a wind so airy and a wind so light.......
The petals fall......
The Heartstone, bright
Off they went,
deep into the night
Castle Heartstone...........
Filled with joy and love
The Heartstone,shining above.......
You are never alone........
In the Great Hall...........
For the power is within us all
Form:
The day drew near..........
Upon the wind,
so light and fair
Flowers falling through the air
The South Wind Prince,
came to Castle Heartstone
Wearing a crown..........
Shining like the sun
Gold and bright
The Prince, spreading the wind
Warm and light
The petals began to fall............
The measured walk to the Great Hall
The Crown, shining bright
The Summer Queen ensuring this day........
Warm and light
The petals play
The pennants flew,
a blaze of colour too
Such joy to behold,
in Castle Heartstone.......
The shining gold
For, The Kings were there.......
Queens too........
Upon the Royal Thrones
The Crowns, shone bright
The cloaks glittered..........
On this day of wedding light
The Prince entered the Great Hall..........
His hair, so fair
It glowed in the light.........
His Crown, bright........
To see the Princess..........
His heart did fall
For, the Princess was waiting serenely.....
At the end of the Great Hall
Her dress, shimmering ,
with flowers of every colour..........
Every hue
Her hair, plaited around a crown of gold........
She was beautiful too
The Prince joined her,
proud and tall
The Great Hall was filled with flower scent
Blew with a warm wind airy and light
The Heartstone on the North Wall
Shone bright..........
The Tapestries glowed........
For this was right.........
A union of wind light and flower bright
The Spring Queen and the Princess of Magic........
Created a new orchid...........
The Wind Flower........
This was brought to them in the hall,
for this was the hour..........
The orchids beauty could be seen by all
They were blessed by all,
who were in the Great Hall
The love, showed
The Heartstone glowed...........
The stained glass West Wall,
shone with all its might
The Tapestries illuminated the night
Starlight,
Flower bright,
Faerie glow,
Magic to show
The South Wind Prince,
carried the Flower Princess out of the Hall.......
On a wind so airy and a wind so light.......
The petals fall......
The Heartstone, bright
Off they went,
deep into the night
Castle Heartstone...........
Filled with joy and love
The Heartstone,shining above.......
You are never alone........
In the Great Hall...........
For the power is within us all
In ancient looms of my homeland,
Fairies once shuttled across threads of rainbows
Weaving folklores of gods and goddesses.
Our tapestry needed no haberdashery of
Brabubahanas and Chitrngadas or a vijay panchali,
For no tantric-needle knitted our folktales.
I want to go back and melt in folk songs
Of shamans, who rejoiced in carnival of ripening rice,
Possessed by jingling moans of a pena.
I want to orchestrate, one more time, the ballad
Of Luwaopa and Koubru Namoinee, and
Feel the heartbeats of Henjunaha and Lairuklembi.
I want to burn my poetry in immortal angst
Of Khamba-Thoibi, and blow the ashes
On winds above Loktak's gentle ripples.
I want to defy traditions, once again,
By falling in love like Chingsompa and Panthoibi, and
Tell the world I inherited their sweet arrogance.
I want to retrace petals of
Thainagi Leirang, leaving no stones unturned,
Until I find the lost quill in ruins of alphabets.
I want to ask children of my land
To perform Eemagi Pujah by planting a Madhabi
On the stage of another Shingel Indu.
I want to revisit a forbidden village in my past, and
Reopen the second chapter of Jahera
Sitting by the old mosque with a green door.
I want to hear young Khongjomba sing
Lamphel Patki Kombirei, while I sip chilled Atingba
From a bamboo mug, in a karaoke bar.
I want to see Pidoinu dance in a discotheque
To the exotic tunes of Khulang Eshei, while
Her Moirangphi floats with iridescent embroidery.
I wish to put my ears on grandpa's clay courtyard, and
Listen to Leipaklei's sprouting sighs in a crack,
For the last time in this lifetime.
Finally, I like to be frightened again by Tapta, and
Wake up in a faraway dream where
My homeland shines as silvery as the milky way.
Note -
Names of mythical characters and entities from our folktales, history and books are used in the poem.
Pena is a stringed traditional musical instrument, played with a bow with tiny bells, of my homeland.
Loktak is a lake in my native state, which is the largest fresh water lake in eastern India, where the world's only floating wild life sanctuary lies, on which the almost extinct brow antlered deers known as Sangai, in native dialect, are preserved.
Atingba is a locally brewed rice beer.
Leipaklei is a rare orchid which sprouts out of cracks in dry soil/grounds.
He goes by the name of Lacrimosa
He is the plain picture of a man
Those who don’t know him see him as a monster
But you and I know better that he is a broken friend
His smile drips of sorrow
His walk is that of a footless ghost
And should you accept his outstretched hand
And succumb to the adoring nature of his gaze
He will lead you away to a dreary place
That he calls home
And the monster will sing sweet nothings to you
And hold you safely in his arms
And though the smile on his orchid face may weep for you
Do not be ungrateful, as it is for you
You can shudder and shake and claw to get away
But you need him as much as he needs you
This puppet man who hangs from a single string
Neck crooked and marbled and hanging to the side
Will frighten and disturb those who can’t see his face
But he will protect you from the ones who claim to love you dear
He’ll hold you close and wherever you go
He’ll be there by your side, his cold hand grasping your own
He’ll be everything you need so you’ll never be alone
He’ll share with you his tears and guilt and blame
And for these gifts he asks nothing in return
But your companionship and smile for only a small time
He knows you cannot stay forever by his side
So when you’re ready to say goodbye
He’ll let you go
And he’ll insist that you keep his gifts
But in time you may throw them away
And turn your back on the weeping thing
Who gave all he had in your time of need
And let his crying fade away
But don’t look back or you’ll see him there
Extending his hand, begging to hold you in his arms once more
And should you choose to return to him
He will always welcome you
And make a place for you by his side
And one day you may decide
To snuff out the man on a string
To throw the gifts he gave back in his blotched, orchid face
And run far far away
So that never again will you see his smile so grayed
Or feel the icy sting of his clammy embrace
Never again will you sigh in the arms of a love once held dearer
Now burdened whenever they look in the mirror
With the image of what they at one time feared
Of a sad smile painted on the picture of a man
Neck crooked and marbled and hung by a string
Dangling a smile loose to the side
Tears scarring his cheeks
His arms open wide
A monster posing as a broken friend
Who goes by the name of Lacrimosa
Form:
War fire flames pain
Every attack seems in vane
A soldier fights through the pain
Before he will go insane
He kills his enemy with his last breath
Before he himself welcomes death
One of the soldiers crashes through enemy ranks
But ahead of him is battalion of tanks
After colossal battle air is dense
The losses on both sides immense
The survives on the battlefield smell lead
Many are wounded many are dead
The dense mist covers the air
Last rations of food survivors will share
The powder smoke is in part reason for the mist
Warrior comes through the battlefield clinching his fist
The reason for the fight was political
The war was now cyclical
Some hated the other side
But many did not wish the armies to collide
They had to fight
Soon long day will turn to night
Sunset is beautiful but red like blood
And this fight shore cost a lot of blood
Warrior thinks of his lady back at home
She is now all alone
He has a break to visit her
For luck she gave him strand of her hair
What should he give her when her he’ll see?
What in this hell could be worth her beauty
He searches through the mist next morning filled with dew
Red fire blazing grass gives him a clue
Against still dark fire is eerie beautiful red
Not so beautiful but equally eerie is blood of the dead
But away from the flames in the morning fog
There is wild orchid towering above old log
The air around it is very dense
But the smell is different it awakens spirit sense
It’s not smell of powder or lead
For a brief second warrior forgets ordeal he just had
He picks up the flower from the center of battlefield
At that moment with new hope his heart is filled
Next day his lady he will see
As he gives her the orchid for a second he feels free
The orchid may fade but its soul will never die
Just like love soldier and his lady written in the sky
Beyond non linear equations there is universal balance
Beyond that divine counterbalance
The written law of that starts with physics and soul
Grows beyond all control
But one thing it will not grow beyond and that is the key
It is idea of destiny
But orchid seems to grow beyond destiny
And in that lies its beauty
Its mesmerizing majesty
And holding it for brief time every soldier and their family felt free
When I get tired of the concrete and tar
there’s a place I can go, and not travel far,
that hasn’t been touched by progress at all;
nature stands still beneath gums growing tall.
And in amongst shadows with sprinkled light,
there’s rippling water and birds taking flight,
a sprinkling of colour amongst shades of green,
there’s burrows and scratching where something has been.
So I give you a picture of Billycan Creek
where flora and fauna are all quite unique,
and nothing is spoilt where I sit on a log
with my video camera and terrier dog.
A single stem orchid stands better than stark
with a deep purple flower that closes at dark,
and a coprosma tree with red berries quite sweet
is a pleasure to find with its bounty a treat.
In mistletoe weeping from a host in disguise
I video drifting jezebel butterflies,
and sitellas who cling to an old stringybark,
then high on a limb…the nest of a mudlark.
So I give you a picture of Billycan Creek
where flora and fauna are all quite unique,
and my camera is ready, with eyes like a hawk
where now with my dog on a casual walk.
Here the undulate water it constantly flows,
diverting ‘round logs and where overhang grows,
a haven’s provided for what could be prey
and in the shallows there’s a freshwater cray.
Some red brow firetails flit down for a drink,
there’s a burrow that’s new with no reason to think,
for a wombat has scratched out a hole and a mound;
but a wombat’s nocturnal who lives underground.
So I give you a picture of Billycan Creek
where flora and fauna are all quite unique,
and I’ve only a second to capture a scene,
so my camera is ready to help me convene.
The scent of boronia hangs heavy and strong,
lances of grass trees are a seed clustered prong,
white ants have covered an old stump with mud,
and Christmas bush bracts are now starting to bud.
On a hazel bush branch a grey fantail sits prone
in a nest made of cobwebs, to a tapering cone,
and a chattering chough tells me that I don’t belong,
now my camera has died so I can’t say it’s wrong…
So my battery is flat and I’m back at the log
with a film full of nature, and my terrier dog,
and you’ve read my picture of Billycan Creek
where flora and fauna are all quite unique.
©2011 Lindsay Laurie
Her eyes open to a sunrise that fades in shades bright from its early black
Another day with the weight of the world on her shoulders and a void at her back
But she gets up and bares it because she’s strong and her soul remains intact
Stating that she’s more than amazing is none less than a concrete fact
But some kind of woman she is to hold in her arms a whole planet
The least it could do is make itself lighter and easier to manage
But reality is, and she persists, endures and she still stands
At the end of battles and wars, there she is with her heart inside of her hands
As a gift or a prize for only the luckiest man that will ever live
That woman is worth more than what she’s bargained for, so more than that I’d will to give
No gold, no platinum, no diamonds for this price can surmount or suffice
For she is worth my blood, sweat and tears in a glass with crushed ice
With my body served whole like sushi, uncooked in its truth, wrapped on a mound of rice
And my bones as strength to endure hard times, and I’d give all that to her twice
She’s wears priceless beauty like a Lily, appearing delicate and soft
Yet, stronger than her surroundings like an Orchid from the desert in a Paris city loft
She’s rare and well kept although daring and free
Committed to the bone, her roots run deep as an age old tree
She’s young and vibrant as a fire-cracker, yet private like an unsung hero
And even if her alias remained unknown, she’d still be my number after zero.
What a woman. What a beauty. And it’s unjust to see her bare her’s and other’s pain
It encourages me to will to fill that void on her back, and to romance her pretty brain
To enter her soul and exchange for it, mine and show her that I’m her soldier arriving ready
to fight
Through wars and rumors of wars, til death parts us before we meet again in the sky in mid
flight
But you see, if to believe is to have ever lasting life, then even physical death could not out
endure this man’s will to hold the stem of this beautiful Lily of an Orchid
And she’d tower above as God smiles with love as I hold her proud, up right, strong and
confident.
To her I would offer that. To her I would offer me.
But so beautiful she is as a Lily of an Orchid, wild, strong and free.
Form:
“we look for that light eternal
that does not come and go
the screen upon which life plays
cognised in staid stillness slow” ~ Unseeking Seeker
I flow like silken ripples
through mirrored lakes,
a lotus sprouting from
mountain streams,
soaked in the saffron
warmth of summer’s flare,
jeweled in citrine pearls of purity.
Awaiting galaxies of clarity
to unveil an emerald estuary,
streaming in sizzling serenity,
oblivious to the searing strings
of fickle tethers pulling
this delicate psyche
toward an abyss filled
with superficial scraps,
fragmented dreams,
and empty conch shells,
tearing my fragile skin
with splinters and sea glass,
reflecting the inflated ego
of a wanderer adrift
amidst ferocious tides.
O sacred skies,
adorned with starry scars,
I’ve long searched in vain
through a salt-soaked
cave of confusion
for twirling diamonds
and fragrant fireworks
to grant me an eternal
haven of celestial calligraphy
carved in halcyon ink,
unaware of the silver flecks
sparkling deep within my soul.
Must I forever be lost,
like languid leaves
pressed between chapters
of seasonal souvenirs,
or should I rise like
a mythical bird,
engrossed in golden musings,
a tameless seeker
of zestful zephyrs?
I am softened
streaks of twilight,
breathing ethereal dust,
while dancing to
the swirling silhouettes
above cosmic candles,
illuminating the orchid
orchard of consciousness,
as this heart beats to
the blissful rhythm
of an untouched breeze,
curating magnetic alchemy,
to harmonize inner music
in mellifluous mindfulness.
I am the light that
lights all the lights,
the undying glow
within supernova lanterns.
I am the artist
painting my own paradise,
immersed in topaz tunes
of an Elysian empire,
where divine scriptures
of the Almighty
conduct a choir
of continuous compassion.
So let the gates of your gaze
rest in singing silence,
listen to the unspoken reality,
echoing like tranquil rhymes
within a sonnet etched from
mystical moonbeams,
for between these lines~
floats the lunar wings,
manifesting a rosier awakening,
as my faith is the conqueror
of crystalline constellations,
forever basking in the euphoric glory
of tulsi dawn.