Long Persist Poems
Long Persist Poems. Below are the most popular long Persist by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Persist poems by poem length and keyword.
Situation
Switch off mind’s clutter and swish with your soluble soul
Seize the second swirl away seizure’s silent convulsions
Sequence sequesters surpass surreptitious soliloquies
Resistance
Ruminating reason and ravenous rapture restrict and resurface
Reticent roads as they relinquish romance and rhapsody’s roar
Re-infest the refuge re-establish revulsive rigid riposte in return
Peace
Paint pastels’ panache peruse provident past pastures
Pack pipe dreams and perilous pitfalls persist and perceive
Proceed to pink palettes of plentiful panorama and passion
Every day He Searches Recollects and Ponders when all he
Might think of is to breathe in and out without thought
Some would say,
the danger portends
Some would say,
it all is pretend
Some would say,
the past wears a shroud
Some would say,
the quiet is loud
Some would say,
all love is for fools
Some would say,
to break every rule
Some would say,
today is unsure
Some would say,
tomorrow the cure
Some would say,
the hammer is cocked
Some would say,
the target is locked
Some would say,
the reasons persist
Some would say,
all logic resists
Some would say,
the lies are astute
Some would say,
more voices to mute
Some would say,
the weight is too much
Some would say,
to look but don’t touch
Some would say,
their talk cheap and vile
Some would say
—death kills with a smile
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2020)
Manifestation of métier write
finds yours truly sitting today
December 24th at 2:41 P.M. with slight
hunched over mien as edge of night
quite some hours away when height
of Santa Claus appearance bright
rosy cheeks glow insync with
Rudolph the reindeer red nose.
As an indie alt rock'n
tribe beck ha dishabille poet,
I view the challenge of writing analogous
to betting an heir or heiress
which includes gestation of an, emotion,
idea, sentiment,...unbeknownst
if outcome birthed to be fabulous
then however the whimsical notion spins
within thine cerebral centrifuge,
the imagination pregnant with fetus
of a fledgling concept feeling
with byte size sea legs,
not quite ready for
prime time and beak comb devious
though, as swollen
womb dar full expansive
lettered girth manifests and coalesces
into miniature Confucius
versatile baby (unless unexpected contusions
render exertion aborted effort, the proud
pro-creator bounteous
which success inspires this scrivener
to tackle another and fleeting thought
and sire by product with audacity.
Oft times the sacred seconds silenced
by stillness louder than "Big Ben"
ear splitting only to me - squirreled away
in this makeshift basement den
the dead quiet, a riot
with audio logical sonic boom decibel -
asper a water nymph sprung from a fen
or when a sneaky fiery fox
slips into the crowded house,
where the yolk cull doth roost
long fostering mass squawking
of manifold egg on eyes zing hen.
The end result metamorphoses into
a totally tubular unforeseen jumble
analogous to uglies that bump
of gibberish senseless wordy clump
aspiring to convey some essence of logic,
though best to take furlough than persist
to interpret dump
of discordantly strung English bits,
which intractable insistence
might spell f-o-r-c-e-d g-r-u-m-p
as the mood one may find them-self,
unless he/she can call
the literary mod squad
to resolve harrumph
and with any lucky trump
petting, the once amorphous lump
pen pro lit tarry hit might undergo
an amazing transformation -
a cherished poem plump
with juicy fruit
weighing down the boughs
as if limbs ready to slump.
POTD 4th Nov 2019
Vanquishing all reservation
twilight's prelude heralds
shadowy anticipation
of a secret amorous thirst
He surrenders once more
to his darkest desires
amplifies the sultry ambiance
with star spangled bursts
A slave in her entity
tremulous in her splendour
Captivating and illuminating
this shadowy tryst
yet her heart beats not in rhythm
to the songs he composes
she dismisses him once more
Saying… ‘it is what it is’
However, through chinks of his ardour
ebbing resplendence
Predominant primacy
hard to resist will persist
refusing to believe …’it is what it is’
refusing to believe …’it is what it is’
The intricacies of love
too difficult to fathom
Her preference mismatched
he cannot define
her daily mantra
heightens sensations
reserved for the one
who appears to outshine?
Nothing but ineffectual
is her discordant course
the unyielding reality
of it drives him insane
and through the ebbing darkness
she hears him screaming ….’it is NOT what it is
It is Not what it is’
No satin ropes will tether
her cosmic line of duty
No romantic soft liaison
would induce her to stay
Tremulous and tender
her love cruelly wanders
from his romantic serenade
she turns her light away
Succumbs to his enemy…Day
whispering softly…. ‘it is what it is
It is what it is’
POTD 4th Nov 2019
In the dance of thoughts, we twirl,
a symphony of whispered musings.
Words, delicate as a butterfly's kiss,
flutter from our lips, sometimes exquisite,
sometimes in the gentle decay of letters.
Oh, how we interweave with the tapestry
of our innermost reflections,
uttering soliloquies to the silent echoes.
Each syllable, a gem of contemplation,
we carefully place within the gardens
of afterthoughts, a secret burial ground.
Speak, ethereal Shadow,
your stillness a reflection of my motion,
a silent dialogue in the theatre of existence.
You breathe life into ages I struggle to fathom,
yet here, in the rhythmic cadence of breaths,
I persist, a witness to the art of living.
"The world unfurls, a canvas of cerulean,
moving in tandem with clouds and oceans,
westward to east, a celestial waltz."
Such is the grandeur of our cosmic ballet,
where time pirouettes in endless grace.
:: November 14, 2023 ::
Only I Decide My Fate
By Kathryn Collins and Terry O'Leary
At times when I am dark and deep
joy but flickering dim,
I upon the portal keep
stilled like phantom limb.
Braced by winter's welkin wind,
distant clouds unfold,
where once the roar of laughter dinned
I taste the burning cold.
Stood in life's predicament
immobile on the sill,
I wait for grand encouragement,
to warm this awful chill.
Stranded in the winter bleak,
with breezes bitter blown
slicing like the sleet oblique
I find myself alone
If frozen at the brink I stand,
persist in stagnant stall,
my feet will melt to silken sand.
gone my soul, my all.
Thanks to Kathy for her support and inspiration
Shades of Grey..
increments of darkness
in states of confusion..
Overcast skies persist..
Deep dark clouds appear
Brings forth torrential rains..
Pouring and soaking rain
Drenched in the torrential rain..
Soaked to the skin..
Soaked to the bone..
Drenched and immersed in sorrow..
Deep despair alongside hurt..
A burning pain that stings..
Daggers dwell upon me..
Sharp edges excruciating pain..
Rapid heartbeat...
awaiting shades of light..
Must delve into the illuminating vibrant light
Lifted and carried into the light
By the loving arms of angels..
Massive shades of glowing light..
Suddenly despair and hurt no longer existed..
The daggers that once dwelled upon me had vanished..
Stinging pain is gone..
Overwelming peace explodes and implodes..
Entered the illuminating vibrant shade of pure light..
As the soul blissfully flows through divine love..
Still heat. The dust in the gutters
is dry. A droning fly
can be heard through the shutters.
Ruined walls. Rubble. Sun-cracked plaster.
Afternoon, and nothing stirs.
Things should be moving faster.
Some streets away, a gun stutters, then stills.
So, they persist in killing each other,
blind to the evil, massing in the hills.
The poets and plumbers are kings for a day.
All they do is bicker, while
the chance is slipping away.
No bombs have fallen for days. The climax is coming.
A car screams past, daubed with crude letters, and is gone.
The fly continues its monotonous humming.
You are badly mistaken, because
you think you've converted the people.
The enemy is inside your defences. He always was.
He's not dead, or cowed, or beaten, though
you thought you'd rid yourselves of him.
Oh, no. He's still here. He's just lying low.
When he cheered you, he was lying.
He'll just lurk in half-dark rooms
till palace flags are once more flying.
Revolution? Workers presiding?
Afraid not. The "others" haven't defected or fled.
They're in the shadows. Waiting. Hiding.
Barricades bristle. Garbage clutters.
Infection festers in neglected corners.
The fly drones on behind the shutters.
Please persist
With poetry,
Though you stand accused
Of wasting precious time
On the silly art of rhyme.
You have a task,
You poets.
Of re-presenting life,
The essence to attain
Thus making real again.
You live for others,
Via poetry.
Watching with all senses,
Hearing with emotions
And feeling through expressions.
You forge a link,
Through poems.
With lilting turn of phrase
And silky sequinned word
You make your reason heard.
You sow a seed
With poems.
So whoever cares to read
The slender lingual links
Will grow as your heart thinks.
You share yourself
In poems.
Laying bare your inner life,
Engaging our humanity
And so voiding your inanity.
You shift our views
With poetry.
Evading common sense
And using verbal dancers
To question all our answers.
So don’t give up
On poetry.
You owe it to yourself
To probe your mind with artistry
And weave your oral tapestry.
Written: December 09, 2023
______________________________________
Honeyed gold pearled shades
brown ferns and aspens
into shadowed paths
lit embers and oaks
As darkness draws near,
with bowed tears of stark
runic streaks of light
dapple my sky
showing only maze
of black enigmas
crimson, lucid blaze.
leading to plum sky.
Swift shades drape my thirst
like dim-lit daydreams
that persist through time
niggling at my nerves
in sparkling strings of
stern frame blush skyline!
whilst glum chorus swells
in ghostly darkness.
Gloom morphs darned mayhem
veiled cinereal shroud
as she touches me
gazing with sleek sight
hushed tones, wan relics
of laid skyline bleeds
lost in shades of rouge
Onyx oboe chords.
The blaze has withered
oblivion crave.