Long Perceives Poems
Long Perceives Poems. Below are the most popular long Perceives by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Perceives poems by poem length and keyword.
The flotilla of the climbing clouds slowly slides away
across the smoky screen shifting from the twilight sky.
The beguiled birds bathe in the dome of the blushing bay,
in the flushing gleam of ambiance to their nest they fly,
as the fall arrives with crystalline splendor on the sly.
The transparent threshold of the halcyon horizon
splits the spreading sunbeam in the spectrum of hued spray,
sparkling shades spilling from its palette paint the dawn.
Bowed down slender blades of garnet grass sway
on the lap of maroon meadow in rippling air drifting away.
The pasture wears the ornate diadem of diamond dew,
flickering with the finesse of dulcet dawn’s chromatic glow.
Lining the sun-burnt cinnabar garden path paved anew,
dry trunks of defoliated trees stand on the soil fallow,
the gilded leaves rustle with the steps of hot days departing slow.
As the setting sun sets fire at the fringe of the serene sky,
making surreal celestial collage of vermillion ember bright,
under its crimson radiance my saturated spirit soars high,
as it perceives the mellow day drown in color cove out of sight,
the painting of Monet suffuses me with the aura of delight.
Poetrysoup gives in plenty the literary opportunity
to show-case the assorted skills of poetic creativity.
Emanating out of the fantasy fountain of imagination,
the torrent of words flows with the streams of elation,
ripples as poems with the rhapsodic rhythm of heart,
yearning to become poignant pieces of reflective art.
Sensual poetic passion of soupsters enriches the mind,
while the mesmeric muses get eloquent as words wind.
Unperturbed by the cacophony of the mundane abyss,
perceives in the lyrical journey the feel of profound bliss.
The rhythm of exuberance envelopes the satiated soul,
permits the poets to flourish under lilting lyrical control.
Composed within the dissonance of dreary disarray,
perceives ecstasy in rhyming flight out of dismal dismay.
A genial platform for poets to make a mark that glares,
as the Poetrysoup recipes the souper community shares.
Some keep a blanket or an item of sentiment
Which holds deeper purpose than what was meant.
On the surface you are a soft brown dog
With a gentle face and floppy ears.
But you are much more to her than a soft toy.
You were a friend in her earlier years.
To her you were living, listening and real
As she expressed her world through her young eyes.
She dressed you in her clothes and hugged you tight
As you soothed her sorrow and silenced her cries.
She felt that you were her only friend
For you were there by her side.
Her confidant, her close companion
There was nothing from you she would hide.
Though teddies were required for a teddy bear picnic,
You were always her only choice.
Although she had teddies and other soft toys,
Your name would sound in her voice.
The child within cherishes this bond
The one existing between toy and kid.
Her adult self perceives what the child doesn't see,
This friendship is inanimate, one sided...
But why should it matter? For a purpose it serves.
The child feels comforted by something that's hers.
If a storm brews in the yonder horizon hazy
Wild winds surge somber clouds in the smoky sky
Sailing on the old boat with unsinkable hope
The ancient mariner in you will reach the shore
For you are buoyant.
If rains pour in torrent from the thunderous sky
Deluge descends in your antique barren valley
Find your fragile house in the flood of despair
Face the situation with fortitude and faith
For you are spirited.
If the frail body toils in the dark abyss of disease
Senile mind perceives it’s the beginning of the end
Walk with hope the last mile for it won’t end soon
Remember the garden path you walked in sunny days
For you are dreamer.
If the listless time seems to stop at the twilight hour
Darkness of dusk drizzles on the shadow of desolation
You hear the echo of footsteps of the falling night near
Wait in the moonshine for the new sun will rise again
For you are optimist.
March 12, 2021
Contest : Poetry As Legacy
Sponsor : Line Gauthier
Unbound from the righteous roots
of the sanctified dormant soul,
the anchorage of wayward mind is unsteady.
In the dislodging thrust
of the upwelling desires,
the untamed instincts
rush feral on the sordid trail.
The unbridled mind turns into a predator,
breaks away from the virtuosity of sanity,
chases the longing on the thought track,
made by the urge of brutal craving.
The basic instinct morphs into base entity.
Deflected from the correct course,
shown by the moral compass,
time plunges the errant existence
into the vortex of vicious storm,
breaks it down into discarded debris,
while the tune of acuity echoes unheard
in the ethical ether.
Beneath the surface of mortal perception,
heart builds the dreams it desires to foster.
Allured by the self-sought aspirations
into the darkness of unawareness,
it mutely suffers wandering
in the wilderness of wanton life.
Under the convolute layers
of the clouded mind,
at the inner depth of turmoil
the sensual heart waits to dream.
At the dawn of self-acquired consciousness,
flooded by the light of eternal truth,
it builds the innate desire
for the touch of placid perception.
Travelling on the pathway of devout life,
an inward emancipation journey,
to the sacred sanctum of realization,
the ultimate destination of liberation,
where the awakened awareness perceives
the sacrosanct meaning of existence,
in the voice of conscience.
The sun is overjoyed
reaching its zenith
suspending in cloudless sapphire skies
in a scarlet lit horizon
its solar sheen is veiled,
beyond the handsome hacienda
hidden from ancient alibis
a time of musings I can’t resist
I paint a likeness of her,
wistful watercolor bursts
highlights by brushed strokes
gently caressing her skin, she wears
an unrestrained ear to ear grin
recherché, warmth rare
as a ruby red stone
a sonorous soprano’s tone
ravened tresses cascade unruly
copious tangled locks flow wild
within stirs the silver stars,
she perceives the wisdom in the callow
& indelible in the wise
youths’ oval ebony, &soulful eyes
a generous yet haunting sad smile,
transcending space &time
it rids me of my harden heart’s denial
on a quest of her own,
a love child grown
…&so has a
a mother’s love
It is said that coloring relieves,
The stresses one's mind perceives,
Improving the quality of thoughts,
Untying anxieties woven in knots.
Black and white drawings are like our God above,
Angelic colors descend upon us as a dove.
Thoughts of the Creator are either black or white,
Dark as none, or all colors together ever bright.
Angels fall on every spectrum of light's wave,
A rainbow always ready to protect and brave.
Walking with us through all aspects of life,
Adding vibrancy to love, hope, pain, and strife.
Angelic hosts linking the Godly to the Earth,
Witnesses to God's light, a tableau of rebirth.
Enriching mindfulness moment to moment,
Given to humans as a glorious bestowment.
An artist's spiritual palette these divinities become,
Celestial beings enlightening drab and earthly glum.
Wings and feathers brushing, voicing the previously unheard,
Raising lost hearts, minds, and souls infinitely Heavenward.
09/05/17
she was staring into the future lost
drowning out the bickering of her boss
asking "why am I here?" and "why won't I leave?"
not caring what she understands or perceives
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him!"
"I would have been on my own."
On my own
"I would have begged him to stay."
"He shouldn't have to stand alone."
stand alone, on my own.
we say things we can't take back
no matter how much we didn't mean it
we have to leave it at that.
but if we truly love them finding a way won't be hard
but the distance that regret can cause can be a journey to far
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him!"
"I would have been on my own."
On my own
"I would have begged him to stay."
"He shouldn't have to stand alone."
stand alone, on my own.
Let me see his eyes, to see if he wants me again
let us touch an embrace so my regret will see an end
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him!"
"I would have been on my own."
On my own
"I would have begged him to stay."
"He shouldn't have to stand alone."
stand alone, on my own.
let us close the distance
STRUGGLE OF A SOUL
On a rocky cliff I stand and barren it all seems
For miles its stretches, hopelessly still it lies
Oh my world how fast you crumble all around me
A stitch here, some glue there perhaps it will hold a bit longer
Oh my! I worry. Will it last?
Yes! Yes! Yes! Finally happiness is mine but wait…. It’s just a dream, an apparition
It’s a storm. A storm I tell you. A storm of broken hope
A shade darker the future goes bleak
Weep oh child of clay weep
Destiny looms tall and menacing in front of you
From the west it comes
The gods must have me marked for sure
And there it is again. That spark, perhaps it’s the end I feel
Could it be? Could it? No it can’t be, it just can’t
Doubt and fear becomes allies
Reborn a new life struggles to take root
Logic in miracle’s clothing my mind perceives
Inevitable we must embrace belief
To believe or not she is here at last
Breath child of clay, breath. She aims you for greatness
Original Composition by AARON.O
Evening
(Tense late calm)
Late vigilance, evening colors, everything quiet, dead, rigid,
Many of my memories disappeared, the day took them far away, they disappeared into grayness,
Now I'm standing here, looking at the landscape, Master is watching, he perceives my desire, my soul,
… I ponder, I stare at the seemingly dying distance…
He sees that I'm brooding and says, that's good, you're waking up now,
Let's go, you and I, and discover this being, the light in the darkness,
Come, hurry, a few hours and the morning will come, and by then everything may seem
... And the mystery, the metaphysical life, which is undying... will be undiscovered.
Light in the darkness? I wonder how, and how this is possible?
Perhaps rather the infinite nothingness in the darkness.
That's right, the answer came to my mind. Life is still bright,
… if it spreads in the endless and empty dark depths…