Long Persephone Poems
Long Persephone Poems. Below are the most popular long Persephone by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Persephone poems by poem length and keyword.
"Some Different Kind of Lost Heaven"
Every once and a while
she would surface
from that brackish
dark place
as a nightingale sings
in the deepest pockets
of a Woolf, the rocks
heavy notes, are removed
and like Persephone
escape doesn’t arrive
freely, but burns for some
slight duration, listing selvedge
staggered freedom found
spreading wings wide
along the unsteady horizon
the sunrise lights her song
‘til the dark horses
of Pluto rampage in
steal her back out of time
to place of labyrinth twined
in fields of Elysian poppies
dreams put to sleep
behind closed eyes
some different kind
of lost heaven
where forever is night
where the lost
Nightingales sing
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Nuit”/ Tony Anderson
https://youtu.be/WZ0WVUMrnyk
“Lune”/ Tony Anderson
https://youtu.be/Zd7gQZs0Ut8
“Nightingale” / Tony Anderson
https://youtu.be/ZJgcAmGOGEw
“I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out;
and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in.”
(Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out)
“I feel so intensely the delights of shutting oneself up
in a little world of one’s own, with pictures and music
and everything beautiful.”
(Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out)
“I want to write a novel about Silence," he said;
“the things people don’t say.”
(Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out)
Persephone.
Pluto.
Woolf.
Beneath the blazing chariot of the Sun,
The fields lay golden, harvest nearly done.
Apollo’s lyre still hums in heated air,
While dryads dance with loosened, flowing hair.
Yet whispers stir where russet leaves descend,
And Zephyrus his gentle breath will bend.
The Horae turn the key to autumn’s gate,
And winter waits with silent hands of fate.
The nymphs retreat as chill invades the glade,
While Persephone walks the twilight shade.
Her mother weeps; the furrows lose their green,
Demeter mourns what once was summer’s sheen.
The grapes grow dark, and Bacchus drains his bowl,
As frost begins to claim the mortal soul.
Now Artemis with silver shafts will roam,
Through amber woods where stags have made their home.
Her hounds pursue beneath the copper sky,
While fading swallows trace their southward fly.
Fair Chione strews her crystal veil on earth,
While hearths grow dim and silence mocks their mirth.
Then Boreas with icy fingers sweeps,
And silent Pan among the snowdrifts sleeps.
Selene rides her argent path serene,
O’er fields that sleep beneath a glassy sheen.
Then Nyx extends her ebon wings on high,
And veils the frozen world from starry sky.
Through shadowed paths where mortal footsteps cease,
Swift Hermes guides the shades to realms of peace.
And Orpheus, whose lyre once charmed the dead,
Now strikes a mournful chord for warmth that fled.
You , with those green eyes
That melt my heart , overpower me.
Your lips touching mine
Your giant hands burning my skin.
The two of us trapped ,
among flat boxes.
I drink from you , you drink from me,
my heart is white again.
Like a dove on its nest .
I lose myself in the profundity of your breath,
your soul grabs mine;
and walks me through the labyrinth that is your life.
And I feel like my wings are growing back.
-Persephone, don’t eat the juicy pomegranate seeds ! Screamed my Eng 102 professor from a distance .
- just fly away !
-He’ll make you stay , you won’t be free !
Still I did .
In the valley
of violin vines,
when the saffron sun ascends,
and crooning clouds
drift in mulberry cadence,
I let my quivering quill harmonize
mystical moonbeams
splattered across
hushed horizons~
with sparkling strings
of stardust,
as ink paints a
panorama of primrose promises,
from spring scented
sonatas scattered
in symphonic hues
of sangria syllables,
thawing
frost-clutched fauna,
while butterflies flutter
amongst floating florals,
depicting whispers
of my hyacinth heartbeat.
But something about
the way sakura
blossoms fall like rain,
traces picturesque
lines of my
lyrical confessions,
composed like
a chromatic chorus,
that savors
kismet kisses,
of a love woven
with
twinkling
tendrils in
tangerine twilight,
and when you
return like
pirouetting jasmines,
I feel the
ambrosial aura
of Persephone
emerge from
the darkest
caves of Hades,
bringing back
empyrean euphoria,
and here I let
nature unfurl
a choir of
singing sunflowers
and waltzing wisterias,
performing
classical serenades,
amidst trumpet trees
sprouting ivory petals,
in dulcet idioms,
veiling toxic tales.
But today,
as rays of gold
adorn my skyline,
I think of tender truth
transcribed in
theatrical tunes,
like
zenith of zealous zephyr
eternally rippling
blue rose breeze
across Monet’s
balmy meadow.
Eleven bears a seed
Strange, numbers multiply
Even irrational digits breed
You are not that special
Though we are unique
One is lost by rage
In the upside down
Think Vecna is untrumped
But he cannot see
Up from down
Take him to LA
Feed him caviar
But, he has to go home
He’ll write in his journal
Feeding his demagorgon
The time One has had
Even if it rained all day
The sun was just above
Down below is his home
Where the sun is a memory
Parallel universes be damned
Can’t Eden marry the Real?
A pipe dream without wind
The piper sings to rats
Bring us a seed from above
Only Eleven brings a seed
Only One cannot rule it
Like Persephone to Hades
Bringing hope to Spring’s wake
That never stays down
Telling us Hell can be fertile
Like lynchings making jazz
Eleven, be my piper
Her music contraband
I am your Thirteen forever
A black cat with unholy lives
A vampire burned by light
If not for Will, I would rise above
My seed who still lives in Eden
Rotting from past trauma
Tucked in Eleven’s blonde wig
A seed from the right side up
Plant it where no light comes
Nurture one in a million
One that eats pressure
Like a pylolobus dredged
Deflated by salty air
Gasping without stress
Throw me back
Back to Hell
Free from the sun
Let me make dark ether
More hospitable
Down below
Unlike the surface
Overcrowded with joy
But that’s where
Life is, my sister
Where all I love
Where strange things
Live like us
On the right side up
Give me perspective
Greater than reality
But a seed
Brought by Eleven
It is but a seed
Until it lands in between
Rooted in the light
Leaves drinking darkness
Willing reunion
A breath of fresh air
On both sides
Of the coin
A dime united
For liberation
And for change
Everlasting
Strangeness in
Things
My dearest Edward,
I admit things could be better.
While you've been away,
It gets colder by the day.
Terror creeps upon me as I lie in our bed,
When it does I remember what you said...
"Think of me and remember I love you,
Look in your heart where my love is true...
Know that if I could I would hold you and never let go,
Baby, I'm going to miss you so."
As I lie here feeling our son kick in my womb,
I know he will make his entrance soon.
One day soon we will be in your arms safe and sound,
And we will thank God for the love we have found.
So whilst you are away at war,
On distant shores...
I will miss you daily,
And pray incessantly... that you come home safely.
So until you are with us I will play the soldiers wife,
And go on in strife.
I hope you will be home soon,
To hold us in the light of the waning moon.
All my love until you are here with me,
Love Always,
Persephone
MO:DPS
Each moment arrives
already threaded—
camels crossing through narrowed eyes,
yesterday's needles.
I see the burden in your face when I get here,
but it’s not your face;
rather a ripple of something older,
residue caught in the glass
nothing but an echo of now. Do you see that?
A life lived sideways,
pressed into the sand.
My bus driver is Atlas today,
holding a world hostage
until I meet his raised eyebrows
with an acknowledgment,
in addition to the usual fare.
The woman on the corner is Circe,
turning glances to granite,
spinning myths into tricks—
even the barista, bean-stained hands,
shifts like Persephone, balancing
her sweet against the darkness.
What is our world if not echoes
refracted, meals consumed after death?
What is real except an insurrection
of stories, clawing at the edges of us,
our susceptible flesh, infected with personality?
These vaunted archetypes,
they hide the hollows in our marrow,
make us no match
for the maps we mistake
for ourselves. You tilt your head,
you ask me what I see. I see, I say,
I have seen, the echoes came first—
shadows carved on walls long
before the names, long before the bodies.
Go ahead, laugh—step into the light.
But remember it moves faster than you
think, burns brighter than you see, and always
drags its shadow behind.
Above, flowers stir and wake in my presence.
They welcome me home with bright petals.
The sun grows joyous at my return.
Wood added to a fire, it seems to burn brighter.
A warmth born of Hestia's hearth blooms through my chest.
It is a pulse.
A paintbrush - Green spilling through dry grass far as the eye can see.
The sky unburdens itself of rain.
The world is filled with adoration.
Though below,
I know Husband Hades awaits with a comforting chill in his hands.
His arms are open wide.
Even when the sun is blown out like a match,
it gives way to a night, where the quiet restores the body.
Hypnos. Nyx. Morpheus. A restful darkness.
The hearth does not die down.
Fences fall. Stone walls crumble. The fire inside lives on.
Grass, although gone, gives way to the clear, sweet waters of oath-bound Styx.
Ancient. Familiar.
It whispers of my return.
The sky breaks open, weeping until the fields drown in nourishment.
Dark or light,
Winter or spring,
Life or death,
Everywhere Persephone goes,
The hearth only seems to burn brighter.
light d i m m e d for Hathor
she wants to bring in Persephone
chocolate candle dripping consciousness
creating a new silicone valley of light//sound//water//spectral multidimensional fields//
cheap caramel cinnamon wine leaks
from cracked tumbler like DMT bubbles
rose petals slowly f
a
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what to ~ b
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eep ^^^^ 00 from EXALTED STATE
to MIDNIGHT blue galaxies or Source
but s
l
eep zzzz
dreamin’ crystalline BOHERENCE not
C O H E R e n c E
CREAM slowly licks strawberries
mint growing jazz numbers invisible
break padlock says NI to AI
indigo shadows seep across Lyran lakes
Persephone emerges
screams P pppp ee
Melinoe tip toes alongside
dark maroon banks
dragging her ghosts aaa
/\/\
{ % + % = *** }
Cc cc
ee
no moron is Hades
says lose idea of typing text
holocymatic race ___grids base
sit in O W N resonance field
to twelvefold dimensional sanctuary
this is keys to freedom
Light >> yin-yang
I rise from the white-wine siesta,
letting go of the serpentine songs,
like a crimson-winged dragonfly
lost in the poppy prairies of Persephone,
untangling my prisoned heart
chained by the churning
deceit of Hades’s immortal chains,
savoring pomegranate promises,
pirouetting through petrichor nirvana,
as the sky smells like a saffron rose
above the castle of emperors
dressed in fallen flowers.
Yet the diamonds sometimes are
engraved with ominous omens
and remorseless remnants,
while I return to cinnamon seclusion,
dancing to the mood of my moon.
O divine dandelion,
in your eyes I see suppressed sighs
of a splintered sunrise,
flickering balmy zephyrs of paradise,
as my soul is tied to the softness
of your delicate dusk~
like a faithful disciple,
forever following your footprints~
while velvety roots of florals
face the glows of alchemy,
amidst the array of arrows,
left as ashes of gold gone cold,
and the gracious gusts of gloaming
devouring the unscrupulous wounds
of a fragranced dawn.
I am the aching pigment
in your palette of purples,
longing for butterfly blurs
to bring me back to a
kingdom of kindness,
where I’ll forever breathe tender lilies
rinsed with wind-swept wishes.
But amidst the clusters of jewels
and raining sakura,
tonight I choose to walk with
specters of scorching stars,
allowing curves of my scarred skin
to burn from the blazing breeze
that bleeds nefarious narratives
upon the bleached borders.
So watch me waltz into the
infernal waters of the deep, bruised bay.
There I’ll write an elegy,
for the sorrow that swallowed your spirit.
I will find an anchor to pull
you back to the land of paper lanterns
as I surrender to the
haunting hues of the horizon;
the sweet sacrifice of a beloved blackbird
singing farewell in silence
to save you from the devilish underworld.
As dandelion dreams
are designed in lucid lies,
carving my essence into wintry wires
of woes and verdicts
from the
growing vines of a
villainous valley.
I feel the blackbird weep, it’s everything
I see the blackbird quiver, it’s what you bring
dreary
d a n d e l i o n