Long Personifications Poems
Long Personifications Poems. Below are the most popular long Personifications by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Personifications poems by poem length and keyword.
I was submerged in
an ocean
of rants,
hiding the sparkles
of my
poetic
planktons.
My meaningless
phrases
that meant
everything,
but
nothing and anything
at the same time.
Yet I found
mermaid melodies
from idyllic waves,
placed
with love
in my heart,
by a
mystical angel
worlds apart,
that felt like home
in so many forms,
when bitter reality
was
crashing
and
thrashing,
my bones with no
mercy or empathy.
Although twin flames
reignited
lost romance,
against every tide of
redolent rhymes
and measured meters,
as couplets destined
to be sweethearts.
In a world
of untold
words
and expressions,
we scribbled
sensual senryu,
and silver sonnets,
along lilac lines
of lavender shadows
where ebony fingers
intertwined to devise,
cryptic potions of
pearlescent personifications,
and
harlequin haiku
as well as
ethereal etherees,
where hourglass nonets
bleed
amethyst alliterations,
forever composing
floral choruses
whilst healing through
free verse
with strawberry musings,
on a sandbank
where islanders
rendered
ravishing runes,
dripping on
chocolate reveries,
about soulmates
that sheltered their
love in
an
oyster
shell.
My leftbrain personifies creative/degenerative nature
yielding an omnipotent YangGod
and shadowy omnipresent YinDemon,
While my rightbrain personalization of creative power
yields our omni-source yin/yang harmonic
dipolar co-arising EarthMother web of life,
original prime relationship
of Spirit/Nature,
Breathing in spirit energy,
exhaling natural strength,
In and out of Zero ZenWomb interdependent web
of regenerate life
more empowering
than fears about degenerate leftbrain ego-death,
loss,
fragmentation of natural polypath/spiritual polyphonic balance
Remaining stuck in monoculturing leftbrain thoughts
about EitherGod OrDemonic
bipolar Saint/Sinner
fundamentalistic
dualistic
capitalistic domination,
When more healthy attached EarthMother experience
suggests wealthier capital co-investment,
left listening
to wise-elder sacredly interdependent right feelings,
transpersonified
co-empathic positive and negative energy democracy,
at best curiously courageous,
at worst patient with negatively detached personifications
of MotherEarth,
creative with wombs
and eggs
and seeds
and DNA,
and RNA,
useful tools for developing healthy cooperative wealth,
not just of capitals
but of all land and water,
air and spirit,
incoming and outgoing personifications.
Poetry, You are Illumination!
Not the point of descent
but the ascending apex of
God's triangles – you come to
me, a bride...after the dutiful converse,
you come to me, dear wondrous composition~
wearing your verbal gown of transparent
white:
Why do I write? And why breathe, make
love? The in and out of creation somehow
such death and resurrection becomes us
both, the draw of life despite the often
editing crosses –
We are best when up against the wall...
that writer's block, that impasse, that
paralysis!~ poetry my sledge and saw,
the reason for eyes and hands, power
to transcend vision into new horizons
however they defame you, my lyrical
rib: abuse you with singsong cords
and hackneyed personifications, even
the erudite who only basically attend
to me you are nearer perfection...
Always, a divine lover and friend!
Quantum mechanics proves that we can be put back to,
Particles, atoms, matter and gas by physical reactions,
But such indeterminism was fought by C S Lewis boldly,
Who used capitals mid-sentence for personifications.
He wanted to personify morality and the virtues,
So said Right and Justice to detach the judge,
From the justice, from the boyfriend or the neighbour,
So that from Hawking we would in some way budge.
But libertarianism contravenes philosophical necessarianism,
By forwarding that we all have alternative possible actions.
Says we’re not predetermined by prior events and engagements,
Through a divine agent that coalesces and notions,
That truth is out there is a fact, out with our command,
But truth is real, essentially original, humanly discovered;
A god cannot call it or claim its curvature or inception,
Because an agent would make our interpretation blurred.
Truth is not solely objective, bestowed supernaturally,
But is a human relativity which we believe, tell or embody;
We all have our own being which can reap desolation,
Or liberation, if we choose to personify it for somebody.
i am here to let your words make love to me
i am here to bury my face deep in your poetry
to let your haiku
molest my naked body
shake me like a tree
can you read the want in my hips
for your metaphors and similes?
like an African lion in heat i long your letters
how they hug tightly only to entice my desire.
the child in me wants to explore, journey tender the skin
you wear. so don't leave me to play alone in the sandbox.
let me run the body of your work free.
ingest your verse and also grow wings.
you and i flying as one in a mad fancy.
then maybe send in my bed sheets - both single
with your personifications they'll jump rope
and after exercising go for a cup of hope
at the outdoor cafe where poets mingle
i am only here because your couplets are wooing me.
i want to glide - baby oil - body on body - chummy.
not compete but instead
massage your triolets,
fraternize with your sonnets.
your tanka rocks me
mountains baby smooth to climb
it's quite the challenge
one i'm willing to take on
you're the baby smooth i want
i'll ride your majestic rhymes
dream they'll settle for,
this my smiling core,
stay with me at bedtimes.
you - the poetess that defines my nights
i want you to know i climb every evening
towards the peak where your words spike.
i'll never be the poet you are, but
i have my hands and other parts
that could drive you to ecstasy.
.........you'll see it's my specialty.
01~01~2015
Armand
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Contest Name: First poem of 2015
Poets at Play
I played with words today –
They called to me
“Come out and play with us!”
Childhood companions
Building rhythms like treehouse forts –
Playhouses of analogy -
Crafting rhymes that follow the leader
Into mud pie irony;
Playing peek-a-boo with synonyms,
Hide and seek with inspiration;
Coming out of hiding places in stanzas
Stacked like pick up sticks;
Patty cake in anagrams –
"A tacky pest" like little brothers –
Jumping out, to yell “Surprise!”
In the “punniest” personifications;
Slide down the metaphoric slide
To allegories of apple trees;
Swing back and forth with double entendre - sky high in the sky;
Hang upside down from “jungle-gyms” whistling alliteration
Hop scotch acrostics
March in meter to rock, paper, scissors -
Wondering what to wear and where I Spy anagrams;
Building up London Bridge, falling down in metrics,
To stand like statues of frozen tag
With your friend assonance
Taking sides like antonyms in games so like red rover
Chasing similes with smiles, to kick the can down the road,
Duck and run in duck, duck goose;
Measure feet in a leap frog of a blind man’s bluff;
Time to come in – come in free verse for the day,
Simon says now writing right just as fun
As a cat’s cradle at the end of my word play.
4/7/20
-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----
My name
is an inanimate object
whenever I am alone
or when I find myself in a crowd
clueless as to who I am
thus
I remain nameless.
Pronoun's
are not my name
per se
but it identifies me
thus
directly
"Hey you"
or indirectly
"Excuse me please."
Establishing contact
and acknowledgment
in some way, shape, or form
animated both objective phrases
as personifications.
Among familiars
my name exposes me
to my paternal and maternal father's
or my grandfather's
which in turn
goes further back
until recorded history
bear no relevancy.
One can go further back
before writing skills had developed
and before drawing on cave walls
and even further
when sounds and acting out were all they had
facing death all around them
until they gave each object life
by giving it a
name.
Super Souper 9-16-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Super Souper
Super Soupers wrangle rhymes
into verses quite sublime
Taming wild-eyed metaphors
into iambic strophes galore
Lassoing doggy ironies
with clever lines, entendre ease
Galloping alliterations
corralled by personifications
Silencing cacophony
with gentle mooing euphony
Bucking wild imagery
herded into symmetry
Stampeding loco thin illusions
bulldogged into chutes of allusions
Bad hoss herds of assonance
saddled for a dressage dance
Bucking broncos hyperbole
Juxtaposed by analogy
Anaphoras on loco weed
settle into quatrain reads
Super Soupers let words rip
in rodeos of craftmanship.