Long Orphic Poems
Long Orphic Poems. Below are the most popular long Orphic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Orphic poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: January 17, 2024
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Delphic melodies on
elysian breeze
lustral chorales in amber
from spiritual chronicles,
seven seas mingle in tandem
in abyss quietness
of an arcane heart,
sky spreads sapphire salacity
in wispy turquoise
of unfathomable horizon.
In inked echoes
of aureate verse,
endured true self, mystic,
Beset by a harsh problem?
it's time to shine
gather yourself, and
overcome aptly,
striving to draft
words of faith
that convey emotions,
feeling utterly inept.
Yet, it is our lambent spur
that compels us to attempt
despite various paths
they all lead back
toward my heart,
includes everything...
everything I foresee
is my mirror,
everything I foresee
is my love...
Thrums of orphic cymbals
in choral melody
crimson wings beat
in furious rhapsody!
In sways of swirling lilts
you glide on tendrils
of iridescent waves
embracing truth
we're all fallible,
It's harsh to have a humane life,
still, God is in our midst.
we merely crave faith
that entails conviction,
Azulene swirls
of glyphic whirl,
blazing!
Conga drums
in sibylline upswell,
you waltz to a claret trance
on wisps of tender melody!
One can be driven to
destructiveness, illness,
or failure by fear
but faith is a stronger force,
that can push itself into
your mind and urge
you to accomplish
embrace power of prayer,
unexpected metamorphosis
may transpire in the aftermath;
beseech Him for abettance.
9th place contest winner
Indelible link to a bygone event,
one clutches with foolproof recall,
of cerulean cloud-ridden sky,
on that pivotal day I penned my first opus,
I strolled at a leisurely pace,
down this charming but tangled green lane,
that would later perturb the gist of my tract,
uncanny those sun-streak formations,
sinuous transient rich-coloured sequence,
each passing cloud had this mammoth offshoot,
kaleidoscope medium hue snatch,
wild spur to psychic pictorial harvest,
downward plod seemed so apt as a title,
perky whisper from cotton wool sweep,
had its dawn in thin veil mists,
I zestfully scribbled each thought,
without stick, hum and haw, tribulation,
prickly hedge, blue fly drone, rambling briar,
found their unforeseen Orphic voodoo,
fervent stanza and spiral quicksand,
spooky banshee air wail raucous thriller,
to spore shedding fern, somber ripple or dash,
tangy vapour guide rails afterglow,
drop by drop float on satin rim fleece,
and so my first plot was conceived,
at the whim of a noonday cloud
“A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more than you love me?
Beloved replied, I have died to myself and I live for you.
I've disappeared from myself and my attributes,
I am present only for you.
I've forgotten all my learnings,
but from knowing you I've become a scholar.
I've lost all my strength, but from your power I am able.
I love myself...I love you.
I love you...I love myself.” Rumi.
When you cry,
I wish I was those tears,
rolling down your cheeks,
dripping upon your strawberry lips.
I yearn to reflect like rainbow dust,
so you mirror like a confetti mosaic.
But in the duration of distance,
I walk barefoot upon a path of
dead roses, whose thorns are
covered in crimson drops.
In between the phases of pearls
and eternal embers in our sky,
I cannot sleep when you remain awake.
Afraid the moon will steal our dreams.
Time is an impatient muse,
but my adoration is timeless.
If only we could pause
and move in slow motion.
With the humility of Rumi.
My words are a colourless chore,
my mind a moth-eaten blank canvas,
but when you appear before me -
I'm a poetic waterfall of ivory ink.
In periwinkle petal phases
of personification, place my
choral carnation blossoms
in chronological chapters -
inside the personal memoirs
of your porcelain soul.
We are fragile figments,
but our serenade is not a fable,
so I keep writing orphic poems,
portraying your innocence and honesty
through an opulent sonnet,
reflecting your moonlight majesty.
Revealing desires of an enkindled heart.
If prose is too simple,
I'll create you a mausoleum of metaphors,
so when silence suppresses my speech,
my arrows of alliteration
will protect you until your last verse.
Before my last breath,
I may not create a perfect masterpiece.
So I wonder if my words will be worthy
or will you forget me
like the others who wrote before me?
In your analogies of abandonment,
I am a pristine scarf in your suitcase.
When I surrender to time,
will you wrap me around your skin,
until the end?
The Big Bang sound resides in the universal core
Boundless light in no time transformed into matter
Material particles still remember the notes of yore
Pulsate in resonance with the melody of the creator.
Everything born embodies wave of primordial sound
In all hearts it composes the music of the cosmos
By one common harmonic chord they are all bound
From one celestial harp all the prime rhythms arose.
Life and nature share classical symphony of symbiosis
Oriental ‘ragas’ made melodic rains from melting cloud
Blazed the forests making the dancing inferno rise
Orphic hymns charmed rocks making the Greeks proud.
When life’s strings play the music of the genesis
In the pristine nakedness of the heavenly purity
Convivial man and animal transcend the nemesis
Together they listen to the song of the infinity.
October 7, 2017
Contest : Completely Your Choice (46) Any Theme Any Form
Sponsor : Brian Strand
I dream poetry;
I breathe poetry, for poetry
calls your name, feeling your
inerrant essentia—
your soul bleeds into mine—
a collision of cosmos,
diffused magnetically, once
a vagrant in a haze of miasmic
vapors—wildered and exposed—
you unshackled me from
this purgatory;
inversely immersing me in
your sphere of solace, and
blooming artistry,
lulling the vast polarities
splintering each layer of my veracity.
I dream poetry,
for your love drizzles
burgeoning constellations, amid
rosette sepals galvanizing my
orphic nuclei, with
every spark we sigh,
tethered to the infinite composition
of our unwavering love compellingly,
beyond heaven and earth,
devoted to you—
your fallen star; no longer silent, circling
nocturne arias entwining our destiny.
Acontius and Cydippe Ascuris Planum
warm, expressive,melodic timbres. saxophone a love song,
cello, classical guitar sound is considered romantic
because of its warm and rich tones.
Oboe:, violin, flute ,sense of passion and intimacy.
, .a piano, due to it's classical usage in romantic interludes
ethereal strings.
orphic lyricism. ...
the keys of love
He threw a coin at her: this night at the festival of love
the best part of this love story
is that it ends well "the happily ever after"
is the guy marries the woman
they have children and are happy in there
pursuit of happiness.
The original story is different most people
opp to this revision.
I can't get
enough of you
seems all I do
is want
to be with you
she's ah perfect
love song
there's no right or wrong
I miss her when she's gone
that's what we do
thats what we do
I can remember when we
talked together
I'd wait for that
wanting in her eyes
when it was she and I together
I never questioned
myself why
I cheer her in
all her future
endeavors
a Lucky man
I'll be
Don't call me clever
cause her future endeavors
all includes me
Putting my heart in her hands
actiing like her man
aint nothing strange to me
as time goes by
I sorta smile as I
Love her so
care free
the me
the only one
sounds just right to me
everyone loves someone
I'm so happy
your love is me
We gotta world to explore
and I can't ignore
that your perfect
for me
Seems I wanna say
And it aint hard for
me to say
I am in love with you
and your in love with me
"Truffles The Romantic Mushroom"
The ooh ah's of love
wriitten by Catogory Romance
and the Orchastra of Love
Crisp and bassey sounds
soothing grooves
Since childhood,
as alexithymia struck my soul.
I kept all my hopes a secret,
hidden in a bucket of unshared dreams.
I kept my soul sweet like marshmallows,
but life has finally caught up with me,
Like a fast car overtaking recklessly,
leaving me behind in the slow lane -
and I'm running out of fuel.
I'm a vehicle of flashbacks from flashlights,
fatigued from embracing the old,
preparing for freshly brewed emotions.
Yet they deprive me at every dawn,
as new beginnings are always challenging.
Suffocating in this silent selcouth slumber,
life tries to call my bluff, when it knows,
I am the master of my masquerade.
My soul pleads with fate to usher me with belief,
but I can see death at my doorstep,
creating intrusive insecurities like termites,
eating away at branches of my sanity,
feeding upon my ordained Orphic glory.
Emotions are an interior mechanism,
so many remain fooled by my exterior,
but I'm tired of searching for salvation.
You who claim to love me,
gift me a scented candle made with your hands,
so its sentimental scent can bring me peace.
Take me to a place without a name,
without a label,
without judgment -
without suffering.
Unchain me from jeapordising January jitters.
Free me from meandering in misty meadows,
which have misplaced me in foggy morning sunshine -
bring me clarity.
These are not random thoughts, random poems,
because my ink is tired from trying to find new metaphors,
to supplement an abundance of alliterations,
portraying humble happy horizons.
Love can be a false emotion,
when we yearn for reciprocal ravishing redamancy,
but when was love ever equal or even fair?
I have no resolutions, just to breathe with ease.
Sometimes love's presence made me feel aesthetic,
but sometimes a badly drawn self portrait.
You can stay or leave, but do come back,
hold on, but not too tight that it chains my wings.
When I ascend, please, miss me,
so my spirit flies back to you.
Can you not see the irony?
We accumulate many reasons to die,
but search for only one reason to live.
Ask yourself which oxymoron are you?
Dying to live or living to die?
*Alexithymia
A person's inability to recognise or describe ones own emotions
* Redamancy
a love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you; the act of loving in return
Big Bang’s unfaded sound echoes in the universal core
In eternity the divine light transformed into matter
Material entities remember the hymn of yore
Resonating with the melody of the creator.
Everything born embeds the waves of primal sound
In all hearts it composes the music of the cosmos
With shared harmonic chord they’re all bound
From one celestial harp all the rhythms arose.
Life and nature create the classical symbiosis symphony
Oriental ‘ragas’ made melodic rain from melting cloud
Blazed the forest making dancing inferno in trees
Orphic hymns of rocks made the Greeks proud.
As strings of life’s essence play the music of genesis
In the heavenly ambiance of the perpetual beauty
Convivial man and animal transcend nemesis
They all listen to the song of infinity.
_________________
February 2, 2022
For Strand (1063) Contest
November 13, 2021
Title chosen : Of Infinity
Contest : This Or That, Vol 8
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
Written: January 07, 2005, Contest Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
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The boy of Roswell grazed at the skies wide.
discovered his real north, by the mountainside.
An ambrosial, vibrant voice rang out as sunlight.
a shepherding glow of his guitar is so bright.
He was singing of eagles soaring free.
In a rowan of aspen and pine trees.
The sweeping curves of rural roads.
There, everlastingly, burn spurring goads.
A yearning request, "Take Me Home."
The untamed and joyful grassy loams.
Art was portrayed in each song.
Nature's musicality is factoid, rich, and strong.
As sung in "Annie's Song," orphic love divine.
A quiet vow, people may feel pride in their whine.
The song "Leaving on a Jet Plane" yields sighs.
The heavens bid a sad farewell to the skies.
His aesthetic voice, enchanting sound, clear and warm,
A flowering tented oasis amid life's storm.
One lesson he imparted was to look within.
We must seek tranquility, where life can win.
The planet was clutched in his palm.
A gentle spirit, in every corner, brings balm.
While the body is dead, the soul can still fly.
Among the peaks, straining for the stars, so high.
When the breeze rustles the grazing land.
His gentle melody is still shifting, as the sand.
A reminder of the grace and harmony of nature.
Here on this spot, John Denver cheerful spirit lingers.
Melts to a smooth touch that norms Autumn's eve,
eyes calm swans ballet, glissades silhouette,
faint lights pair, a porcelain minuet.
A curio stand, well placed, best achieve.
Nice culled singles tryst, pond sides by vast knoll,
balters few burbled matches. Grasped sunset
prompts a quietude, occasions beset
whilst espy eyes pry, as through a peephole.
Selenophiles resplendent moored grandeur
supine visages, prompt smeared tattooed rouge
amongst enthused pristine hearts, fused refuge
sonder renaissance ere night's prism, savior
flame, epoch pairs euphoric dulcet swoon
per drawn orphic sight, a ringed rainbow moon.