Long Permeates Poems
Long Permeates Poems. Below are the most popular long Permeates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Permeates poems by poem length and keyword.
The long drought’s dust daughters
lie writhing upon arid soil,
a scorching bed;
my tongue is heavy in my mouth
parched, longing for moisture;
my skin dry.
Dark clouds rise
along the whispering horizon
where storm breezes waken, bend and stir;
weary souls rush outdoors to wait,
eager for first drops.
The rain mantle thickens overhead;
the dust daughters rise and dance
to the drumbeat of the wind.
Ichor flows, dripping through cloud pores,
the scent penetrates, fresh and clean,
the odor of earth and rock permeates the air
tantalizing dry nostrils.
Faces turn upward
and drink in the fragrance of long awaited rain.
My feet follow my heart in happy rhythms,
a tattoo of joy written in fresh mud,
the lovely offspring of dust daughters and the deluge.
Copyright, August 11, 2016
Soaring storm seethes in the seamless sky
Tracks tormenting terror in anguished air
The stratified wind doesn’t understand why
The abrasive turbulence it should share.
Afflicting anger flares in the spiteful mind
Smolders the sullen life’s cinders to bear
The ashes of angst fly far failing to find
The rationale why empathy doesn’t care.
Heaving haze holds the humid horizon won
Spreads the shroud of gripping gloom severe
Clumps of clouds drift away from the spent sun
Hoping from the dark a bright day would appear.
Seething sorrow simmers in the marooned mind
Permeates pain in life drowned deep in despair
Serene soul blooms bliss to dispel agony unkind
Fecund hope seeds happiness in dry drops of tear.
_______________
August 10, 2022
Emotions : Despair, Hope
Rhyme checked at RhymeZone.com
Contest : Strong Emotions
Sponsored by : Emile Pinet
Listen now
Morning arrives;
Mystic voice
~~~~~~~~~
Dawn speaks
Fond sighs;
Haze loiters
~~~~~~~~~
Sun-block hazy
Fuzzy logic;
Sumatra fires
~~~~~~~~~
Ashy contrast
Smoky smelly;
Foreign stench permeates
~~~~~~~~~
Hazy shades
Photoshop contrast;
Smoky air
~~~~~~~~~
Deeper meaning
Beyond stuff;
Profiteering woes
~~~~~~~~~
Nero's antics
Witty wise;
Hazy surprise
~~~~~~~~~
Crash and burn
No returns;
Hazy churns
~~~~~~~~~
Cheer now jeers
Haste seeds near;
Crazy haze
~~~~~~~~~
Conflict
Contrast;
Compound
~~~~~~~~~
Breathe deep
Haze streaks;
Dry smoky cough
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
08 October 2015
Singapore
Biology TED talk, Ken Burns WWII
Multiple choice plus open response =
Teacher cares, out there among the English
Mathematics, fractions to imaginary i
Anything can happen any time, I mean
Mass killing--public school, movie theater,
Post office when every mother wears a gun
Yet happiness permeates like CO2 + sunlight
Photosynthesis + electricity = burning bush
Hot tea, hot shower pleasure perfect rest
Early to bed, no more lies, complexity
Poetry about history, i.e. Wolfowitz
As for non-fiction, most things qualify to know
Astrobiology, search for LUCA, FLO
Minerals on Titan, organisms on Enceladus
Divination on Iapetus, peace on Earth and Tethys
Volcanoes and tsunamis, Big Red One and Private Ryan
Don't stay up late, take your vitamins
Sin and crime being nothing more than
Mental malaise, imbalance. Love and compromise
Tolerance, practice worksheets, brilliance
Prejudice and superstition, Tha's a wrap
Nothin doin, ain't gonna happen, freedom's when
Yes is mostly a blessing and No is always an option
It was a hot humid muggy evening
The festivities were just starting
Inebriated souls, and the smell of Cajun cooking
The moon was sitting idly by, waiting for her role
The smokey flavor of the night’s meal
Sifting scents pleasing,
The mixture of perfume and gourmet
Evil lurking just underneath
The flowers were radiant
Laughter permeates the air
Then the little ones, with beguiled charm
Cut through the social soirée
Blood spurts from body parts
The killing fields of St Louis
As patrons and saints are slaughtered
Like lambs
I feel the callus cut of the knife
As my fingers fall to the ground
I know the evil stench of horrors
Has only begun to spread
Like the roots of sinister wine
Bordereau is the prison of the mind
The lamb is now the Wolfe
Montcalm would never fair well
As limb and leg fall slain
I cry out in horrific pain
For the battle of St Louis
I have been murdered in vain
living in this flagitious society life becomes numb
yet we extrapolate irrespective reality till we become dumb
mental break downs and frivolous exercises of intellectual contempt
permeates a paradigmatic volition of unparsimonious content
we are axiomatic in our subjective minds as we conceptualize truths
but preconceived notions poison and impede the capacity of our fruits
berayed by the thick insulating cover of vitriolic and obligatory words
you can see with more than our eyes and hear more than whats heard
virtue and value will hurt you in battle
as expression and intention fight for domain
necessity and certainty like humans and cattle
like pride and despair both going insane
miraculous recoveries and extravagant claims
cognitive faculties misfiring as the mind refuses to aim
lost in translation as we wander our brains
a mental castration of parabolic restrains
feelings, opinions and emotions all subjective and chained
like a broken track on a bridge made for a 4,000 ton train
we refuse to abide by the laws in our hearts
as we accept solipsism in whole and in part
judgmental determinist with a maniacal skill
to violate logic and ignore the freewill
you recapitulate hate and promulgate lies
like maggots on a carcass embedded by flies
you are dead in your thoughts and dead in your walk
Trace the outline of your body with a forensic white chalk
to be dead in your mind is to be dead inside time
and if life is subjective theres no reason or rhyme
For a second there I saw you smiling
I must admit I am wondering why
Things you've gone through are so appalling
They break my heart and make me want to cry
Yes you see my choreographed smile
it’s there to hide, what’s buried deep inside.
My heart’s shattered like a porcelain tile
Within me I feel the sharp shards collide
I see emotions leaking from your eyes
Speak your demons discover your healing
Dismiss false words and other people’s lies
Validate all the things you are feeling
I have come to grips with my own mistakes
From the demons I have found some relief
Sadness permeates me my body shakes
In time good will come that is my belief
I can see now how your smile meets your eyes
Doors have opened beyond a life of pain
Your true potential you now realize
All things within reach freedom once again
I feel I was given a second chance
Although I miss those I’ve lost on life’s way
I choose not to live my life in a trance
Innocence reclaimed I’ve learned how to play
By: Brenda Chiri & Richard Lamoureux
Thanks Brenda for collaborating with me on this piece. It was a pleasure writing with you.
The migratory mind
indomitable,
of the spirited surfer
possessed,
waltzes on waves of life,
curled crests climb
demented,
fling the fractured moon,
dark troughs descend
despondent,
with sequins of sunk stars,
recede with the ebb of time,
seek the seraphic shore
of the passionate past,
entranced.
The shifting sands
sculpt seaward footprints,
contoured as the corroded
design of decay,
time arrow finds
the designated course
destined,
to the temporal topography
denuded at the edge
of the fading timeline,
framing flaked facsimile
of eroded existential wasteland
abandoned,
where emptiness engulfs
enthused,
the splintered spectrum
of the sanguinity rainbow,
crumbled.
The disillusion-tangled terrain
within hollowness deep
piles up the wreckage
of languished lilt of life
unlived,
turns the chromatic garden
to debris dump
in the winter of discontent
invasive,
the pathway paved
outside its frail fence
waits to be walked
fascinated,
to the mesmeric meadow
of turquoise tomorrow,
waiting.
Innate invention intuition
permeates perceptive memory
innovative,
with arcane acumen,
the art of alchemy
enigmatic,
glitters gold
in the rusted crust of ruins
where marigold blooms
in the junkyard
on the scrap stack
of the bleak being,
with the transforming touch
of the Midas mind,
masked.
The gloom I feel is gone when you are here
My life takes on the blush of virgin bride
I bloom in love the moment you are near
And strife cannot oppress when by your side
A glory fills the chambers of my heart
The fragrance of affection permeates
Our story God has written from the start
Its cadence sweet is what He orchestrates
No fear has place in love that heaven gives
No pain can wound so deep love cannot heal
For near to paradise Communion lives
I gain its comfort when your love I feel
Your presence in my life is what I crave
Its essence will preserve me till the grave
Eileen Manassian
PS...this is a double rhyme sonnet which was inspired by Andrea's Entry to a contest.
Sunsphere
Sunsphere, purple to orange,
yellow in the middle,
setting at the rear.
Behind the wheel, gripping the steel,
Apollo, anxious, scans for falling flowers
along the roadside.
My petal scent
permeates the Lumina —
maroon in colour,
interior tone matching.
It is his ride,
our style.
I will never leave, even if we wreck
at breakneck speed.
I’ve got the need;
he’s got the deed.
My own Jimmy Dean —
flashing red and green,
amber
and lean,
colours of the scene,
of the chase.
The urban heart paces
its own race to the climax,
where it might end,
where it might dissolve away
in a state of perfect pink bliss.
The body’s calibrated systems all lined up
for twenty seconds of elation.
I tune the station.
He smiles at the recognition.
This song carried us along —
all the pit stops, all the speed bumps.
It first played eons past:
sweet sixteen, neon skies blast
green wonder overhead.
He was not there; we had not met.
A song that touched the loneliness inside.
I realized I was not like everyone else;
I excommunicated myself.
And when I found him, I denied this song existed.
It reminded me of that time before my heart enlisted
in the endless dream.
I pretended I had never experienced sadness.
I was in pure spirit —
not doctored by my own health
or chemistry.
I was strong,
untouched by the dirty empires.
But it was false.
I had already fallen in the mud.
Music was the rope
holding me close.
No one offered their arms,
no one offered their charms
to save me from dismay.
I clung to whole notes
and registers —
treble and bass.
I only had theory to seal my edges.
I was not restrained, not in feeling
nor in the larynx.
I was fixated on expression,
the lexicon of my wounded soul.
He smiles at the remembrance
as the song plays again —
not because the lyrics are happy
or because it calls back pleasant polaroids.
We are still here,
cohabiting the vessel of our escapade,
together,
rolling through the hills of sonic recollection.
And here, in the passenger seat of an old Chevy,
I can finally name my sorrow
I can let the tears rise
if they wanted to break the levy of my eyes —
forest-coloured iris —
if I had reason to cry