Long Picture Poems
Long Picture Poems. Below are the most popular long Picture by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Picture poems by poem length and keyword.
(Note: This is the introduction of a poem story I'm writing. This serves as the introduction to the key characters. The picture is hazy right now, but as time progresses, the characters will change from blurry images to distinct portraits. Will they live? Will they die? Only time will tell....)
A Night Of Demons -inceptum-
1
A little child looks up at the sky,
And sees the moon.
A buzzing fills the air,
So she pulls out her cell phone.
A message awaits:
You are going to die.
She's an innocent girl
in a world full of demons.
Her name is Alice,
and she's afraid.
2
The bus makes its last stop
on the corner of Brambleton.
A tired young man stands up,
and almost falls.
He notices words etched into the seat:
You are going to die.
He's just a simple man
in a world full of demons.
His name is Hank,
and he's afraid.
3
The last of the dishes are put away,
and she collapses to the floor.
Her back is acting up once more.
She notices a flash card,
and there is something written:
You are going to die.
She's just a motherly housewife
in a world full of demons.
Her name is Ashley,
and she's afraid.
4
Music blares in a pair of headphones,
and a boy rides a skateboard across a busy intersection.
He narrowly avoids getting hit.
As he falls, a billboard catches his eye.
He notices large yellow words:
You are going to die.
He's just a high school student
in a world full of demons.
His name is Darnell,
and he's afraid.
5
The final boss in a long Japanese RPG awaits,
and at long last he'll finish off the 100 hour game.
If only he could avoid the instant death magic,
maybe he wouldn't get a Game Over.
But he can't, and the game flashes the following message:
You are going to die.
He's just a video gamer
in a world full of demons.
His name is Jack,
and he's afraid.
6
The world is slowly falling apart
Most simply do not notice
a shadow watching the night.
A foul wind whispers in the Shadow's ear
the message of a demon:
They are going to die.
It's just a sinister shadow
in a world full of demons.
It goes by Joker,
and it's not afraid.
INNER NEEDS
This inner Harmony,an
abstract message,its meaning
lost ‘til unconsciously heard,
unfettered,beyond its boundaries
becomes a picture to reproduce
the divine.Inward vitality,the
stress of inner need to outer
impulse,scattered upon canvas
shrinks not from innovation.
From Kandinsky Art Of Harmony
CREATIVITY
Art,transitory & isolated
purposeless in the unconscious.
A mystery,its meaning
springs from the soul by an
inner need ,outwards &
upwards,a melodic composition,
simple line,a common motion,
complex in flavour.Symphonic
in scale,impressions improvised
uttered with maturity.
From Kandinsky Art Of Harmony
*A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s(not a poet) to compile unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase.
Listen to me read these phrasis structured prose of mine upon youtube under name ichthychiro
Sometimes regret holds me like my first love
So when true love crossroads
I can never picture a cross that rose
For me
I need to fast more
But my pedal only hits the floor
For the wrong doors
Then my knees hit the bottom
Repentance cycles
Feeling like a hamster but
I'm learning to let Jesus take the wheel
Thy kingdom come thy will be done
Sometimes shame is the only one,
that holds me right
His arms still stretched but
I rather stretch the truth
Like you didn't bleed red letters
I keep trying to blot grace
As if I could ever stop the bleeding of sin
As if you didn't see my imperfections and hug them
The tomb isn’t evidence of death but
The seed of hope
Make sure you have a hunger for God
It will bless your spirit
Your spirit feeds the mind
The mind feeds the body
So I will fill my temple with Proverbs
That poem a path for life
A perfect love kissing imperfection
Then when I look in the mirror
I will see transformation from glory to glory
A reflection of the resurrection
He got up so I know nothing can hold me down
Life never gets any easier but there is one who overcame the world
p.s. do you know Him…
Iris sun fades and so does the day
whispers the carried in the silence of night glowing
Wishes floating on silver trails faraway
The image of your face will forever bounded to this world
Angels Brought you to me made a lightening
sparkling diamonds in the misting treasures gems so bright
Ice roses turns into a steaming jungle of quivering glass
Flashing in the distance, in the moon light
and all of its stars, that's where the angels dancing
A beautiful adventure picture sparklers on a winter night
A cold moon dressed in dark velvet
with a pearl milky white smile beams
Sparkling jewel crystal lights up
stars blinking silver awakening
warm invading darkness your light
My life has at last found its light and its hope
Soulful cries a wolf dressed in winter clothes
faraway over ocean waves
carries in a wind’s whisper sweet music dances
A magical night that will set the spirit free
Silently breathes out a puff of magic sweetly
beauty enchants warmly etching strikes
frosted fingers cracking ice deeply echoes
Striking inside bells toll warmly skipping drumbeats
bouncing of chamber walls loving tunes
Believing in your love a dream
Which enchants music of the butterflies dance
howling clouds out steaming warm sighs fluttering warmly
I closed my eyes at the end of the road
and thought of the stars
and the reason earth spins around the sun
A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and
Anne- Lise Andresen :) - 28.12.2014 -
Listen up, y'all, got a tale to tell
'Bout an elephant that time almost forgot
Not your average jumbo, this one's special as hell
Sicily's very own pint-sized lot
Evolved on an island, cut off from the rest
Shrunk down through the ages, adaptation at its best
Three feet tall at the shoulder, a miniature beast
Roaming ancient Med, from west to east
Mammuthus Falconeri, that's the scientific name
But "Sicilian dwarf" is its claim to fame
Lived alongside humans, back in the day
Till climate and hunters made it fade away
Picture this pachyderm, the trunk still proud
Tusks like daggers, but not as endowed
Compact and sturdy, built for island life
Surviving droughts and prehistoric strife
Some say its bones sparked legends of old
Cyclops and giants, or so we're told
Greek myths born from fossil finds
Ancient elephant skulls boggling minds
Now it's gone, extinct, wiped from the Earth
But its story lives on, for all it's worth
A reminder of nature's wild design
And how isolation can refine
So next time you think elephants are all the same
Remember Sicily's dwarf, playing Evolution's game
Proof that life finds a way, big or small
In nature's grand scheme, there's room for all
Sicilian elephant, we sing your song
The memory of you will carry on
In museum halls and science books
Reminding us to take second looks
At the wonders that once roamed this land
Before time swept them away like sand
Extinct but not forgotten, your legacy's set
Tiny titan of the Mediterranean
Dreams of Moonbeams
Wondrously ethereal images always
magically abound in the dream world.
One particular image I had as a child
were dreams of moonbeams at night.
This certain majestic image and its impact
have followed me throughout my entire life.
These bright beams of light have enchanted me
always—bespeaking a brilliant aura of possibilities.
With them and the sight of a bright-lustrous Moon
on a dark night—all seemed, at once, so picture-perfect.
It was, as if, Almighty God tasked his angels nightly to
paint these moonbeams between the Moon and the Earth.
Or so, this all seemed clear to me during my childhood
as I dreamed often, and gazed so deeply at the Moon.
Dreams of these moonbeams are part of what an endless
wonderment and a truly majestic imagination are all about.
Artists may depict the images of these moonbeams in their
painted-portraits, but only Poets may depict them in words.
I dare say, whether moonbeams are illustrated in paintings
or in words, an eternal heavenly blessing they are for sure!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 28, 2018 (Lyric)
Traditional poetry has rhyme and metre
Which determines the way it is composed
These features make it a simple matter
In distinguishing such poetry from prose
A lot of writing now is in free verse
Where the main focus is on the content
The thing that now really matters the most
Is true capture of the poet's intent
Some free verse strive for a sense of metre
By carefully managing line layout
Some focus on painting a word picture
For that's what their poetry is all about
Prose rich in sentiment and imagery
Can also be rewritten as free verse
Would it then be described as prose poetry
Or should it be labelled poetic prose
What new poetry forms will the future grow
It's time alone that will give the answer
For poets may come and poets may go
But poetry shall continue forever
Always believed that everything would be fine
Your pride has built a dark wall
Life slips away, we are dust in the wind
Have struggled with rock crushing for a long time
The nights of wonder so dark and cold
Tell me what's behind the wall
I gave my all, but it still wasn't enough
Can't fly anymore because you have broken my wings
One year goes by quickly, six years is a long time
I hope tomorrow will be a fine day to move some rocks
“Picture Perfect” ... never doubt it
I don't believe in tomorrow
Founder's day
>A wind of gratitude is waving
>River of love is dancing, exhibiting wonderful styles whiles meandering
>Cloud of commemoration is drifting.
>All to say ‘’ayeekooo’’
>’’Osagyefo y3 ma W'amo’’..
>The throne is set, come and receive a panegyric
>You are a relic in our memories
>Posterity will always judge in your favor
>A man of wisdom and valor.
>You fought covertly or overtly for then progeny's emancipation
>That fight had made us a proud generation.
>Your were the torch of your mother,
>Your contemporaries can't gainsay.
>Your foresight laid the foundation for your mother's future.
> You started building the walls that projected your magical plan's picture.
>Your confidence was willing to leave no stone unturned
>Alas, nature sent you to the urn.
>Great dreams stuck in the skull
>If you can hear me, speak through a necromancer.
>We have missed the great voice of an orator.
>Even if your phonetics can’t do, let us feel through your kinesics
>We will love you until our hearts are no more
>Your mother will remember your sacrifice until she closes her memory's door.
>You indeed are a founder.
>We salute your charisma.
>Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, ‘’mo ne adwuma’’
>’’S3 3nn3 y3rehyir3n s3 nsroma’’
>’’3y3 wo mm)denb) ntiaaa.’’
>We respect today.
>Because it is your day.
>Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah
>’’Mo mo mo’’
>We salute.
Some dogs call them master, but I always called mine ‘Dad”
I haven’t seen him in so long, perhaps I drove him mad
For when that car bumped into him and knocked him off his feet
Some people took my dad and left me standing in the street
I never saw him after that… was everything my fault
Did he wash his hands of me, I cannot bear that thought
They put me in a place with other dogs locked up in cages
I barked a lot at first but I was there for simply ages
It took a while but I accepted Dad had let me go
I guess I wasn’t up to scratch although I’ll never know
Then, one day a couple said, “We can’t leave him behind.”
And they were nice; alas, they weren’t the dad I hoped I’d find
I never would deny the gift of this my newfound home
Without my lovely humans I’d be caged or left to roam
I’ve never been ungrateful for the love they’ve shared with me
Yet every single time we walked, my dad I hoped to see
But that was many years ago and we’ve had fun and hugs
They even have my picture printed on their coffee mugs
These days our walks are shorter and although they’re still quite fun
My aging bones make walkies slow; I certainly can’t run
I sometimes see my people looking at me like they’re sad
I’m glad we’ve been there for each other… but I miss my dad
It’s strange that since I woke I seem to have new strength today
But now I see that other ’me’ which means I’m on my way
Before I was adopted Ron Rottweiler told me that -
When your time is done you’ll see yourself still on your mat
Your humans will be sad because you had to go away.
I always hoped I’d see my dad again before that day
In this new state I know much more than I had known before
I know that there’s a bridge to cross but I want something more
Before I cross to what comes next and set my spirit free
I want to find my dad so he’s the final thing I see
I know now where I lived and it’s a long, long way to go
But wait, I see my favourite toy and hear a voice I know…
I turn to see the rainbow bridge and yonder rainbow light
A figure stands in silhouette and yet an awesome sight
The figure walks towards me in its own familiar way
It reaches out its hand to me and then I hear ‘him’ say,
“I’ve waited all these seven years - the angels think me mad -
We’ll cross that bridge together for I’ve always been your dad.”