Long Pinions Poems
Long Pinions Poems. Below are the most popular long Pinions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pinions poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: February 05, 2024
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On twilit roads as dusk falls,
from rivers to towers and walls,
when lilting rhythms call,
a gleaming steed sailed.
on pearl-grey pinions, and held,
as the aroma of willow draws.
tumble toward the ground.
through warm beams.
and anodyne smell.
Under the mast of a rusting ship,
over a dazzling web of water and light,
I'm excited to charter out of the bay,
In a silver chariot,
on chrysolite mirrors and carried,
where cinnabar vapor entices,
float gently to the ground,
with cheerful smiles,
and sensual breath,
bright polish—sun fell,
busters grab and break boards.
And tempests rumble and thunder,
In an iron chariot, ferried,
on clods of lava, and carried,
where cinnabar vapor beguiles,
swinging unpretentious,
with savage smiles,
and smoldering breath.
Crumpled Wings That Fly
I hold close your crumpled wings,
Trebling fear that traps your flight
Quivering in the grip of songless things
Night crushing pinions swallowing delight.
Your caged heart beats wildly next to mine
Wrapped in brokenness - numb to soft caresses
Dazed in listless trances - faint lassitude entwines
With suspended starlight longing to refresh.
Nestle your broken parts in this healing downy nest
Fold your wings in layers of respite sleep
Swaddled here - swathed in love's sweet arrest
Stir to stretch for your new blessings keep.
With arms wide, released to the new sky,
Expand diamond studded wings to fly.
5-13-21
Contest: Embrace and Release
“Wake to the chirping of birds, get elated by their songs, allow the music to settle in your heart and dismiss all defeatist thoughts. Instead of burrowing like a mole, fly high like a bird” ~ By Poet
Oh! Lovely little bird, soaring and swirling,
Sliding and sweeping, making the sky your pathway,
Possessing the poet’s soul, you make me cheerful,
With songs mellifluous and melodious.
You dive and glide through cotton candy clouds,
With dizzy spells and a spirit so buoyant.
You roam and ride through air, trusting on your wings.
You are out on an odyssey to cross a thousand seas.
With black and beady eyes, you spot everything,
And watch the world from up above.
You wear a dazzling robe of vivid bluish hues.
You have rainbow pinions and a beak so sleek.
You chirpy friend, as you sing in tuneful voice from above,
Your songs fall in my ears as midnight choir from afar.
As you warble in sweet rhythm and lovely cadence,
You tell me that sweet spring of beauty and bliss is here.
No butterflies at Christmas time, you and I know why
they'd freeze their wings and wouldn't stand a chance
inside this wintry Palace of snow and fanfare glow.
But little Suz with her happy trails of dreams galore
asked Santa for a butterfly, she wanted nothing more.
One with summer wings that could dart, flit, and fly
one that could light the room like a cloudless blue sky
one that could take her away to a place oh, so high.
Upon this firmament of earth what would a holiday be
without the assistance of a magic fairy's glee
So, it was on that diamond studded Holy night
that a fairy appeared wearing wings way too tight
she nipped at her pillow and whispered in her ear
"Help me get these pinions off, won't you be a dear!"
Little Suz with eyes so big touched the spongy wings of blue
they were warm and cradle soft, filled with morning dew
Soon the fairy left her side off to Netherland she flew
to get another pair of wings, with her Halo all askew.
Hidden quote by: Jesse Jackson
As the daze lifts, dirge ogling at blurring.
Squalls can still be stifled by soft roving.
Heaven's pinions may rattle the birdcage.
If tame grip, end up spotting candor wing.
Conveying of the most critical stage.
Toe-to-toe quicksand slogging on the rage
We aught stark faith in our dominant muse.
Shut eyelids bury the day's grin assuage.
We, a whiff of peace, must be shining wise.
Naught deems but that you go forward to rise.
In its purest awe, love with hope bestow.
Our scheme provides a zingy gap in size.
Grin never sink out, and not backward show.
Allow it to rise, by wings swell hefts grow.
Fear and division are ousting cross-glare.
Close fetch key vibrations to the shallow.
Written: January 28, 2022
Keola Secret Poetry Contest
Sponsor: William Kekaula
Syllables: HMS
Rhymezone
I thought the landscape burst in sudden flame
with embers wild cavorting in the glare
of dawning sun, but boundless sparks became
a throng of monarchs flitting through the air
above a field as though on charcoal ash
that gusts of wind then carry as they gyre.
From wings illumined spread the brilliant flash
of pixie dragons breathing threads of fire
as fine as frog hair glinting in the slow
emission of the morning's creeping light
that struck the gloom with every lambent blow
until each wizard shadow was in flight.
The tartan tiger eye that draped the glade
was blazoned on the pinions as they flew
like flower petals of the clans arrayed
in Lilliputian combat on the dew.
A cadence of disheveled leaves they fell,
these butterflies upon the turrets mean,
escarpments and fay parapets to quell
the mist ascendant from the April green,
then rose again like prodigies from smoke
that came to cloak them from the murky foe,
kaleidoscopes of flutterings that broke
the cling of darkness with emerging glow.
By noon the burnished battle scene had cleared
as dandelions waved their vanquished whites,
the gleaming copper standards disappeared
and I relinquished images of sprites.
I long to shift my skin and take to air,
Become the crimson flash, the whispered call,
Wings stretched in freedom, feathered, light, and rare.
In morning mist, a pulse—my spirit's dare,
The chill of bark beneath, the dawn’s bright thrall.
I long to shift my skin and take to air.
My fingers melt to pinions, fine and fair,
A beak, a crown of red, where shadows fall,
Wings stretched in freedom, feathered, light, and rare.
I leave behind the weight that humans bear,
To soar above the pines at sparrow’s call.
I long to shift my skin and take to air.
The world below recedes—no sorrow there,
Just wind and sun and endless sky enthrall
Wings stretched in freedom, feathered, light, and rare.
So if you glimpse a flash of scarlet flare,
Know once my heart was human, after all.
I long to shift my skin and take to air,
Wings stretched in freedom, feathered, light, and rare.
Roots to fly with and grounded wings perpetuate the moment
We live looking forward into the past when we tell our story to make
sense and give meaning to comprehend where we head over heels
feel our way into hereafter sequence freedom contingent contextual
roots to fly with we disentangle causes triggers consummate effects
To create cosmos from chaos clarity from abandon havoc mayhem
on our journey our glance and reflection casts eyes mindful soul firmly
backwards gently into the future that holds us the Universe willing free
floating dimension from foundations introjecting space travel and time
The present the gift of the here and now not there and then evolves
resolves resonates in gentle oscillations for that split second glimpse
of impermanence enshrined for ever like a river its currents rifts drifts
and shifts waving and weaving the slow motion picture of gratitude
In roots we trust to dash grounds and firmament search engines to
flatter and flutter steadily glide along as understanding soars bit by
bit pinions prospecting inwards from outwards and back once more
brushed by gentle feathers crested in ever changing balance of wind
We have faith in wings clipped and regrown from deep down and under
watchful cover of essence solution dissolving premises emerging anew
Letting go needs an anchor for take off holding on requires a sail and
after before all life is what we make of it in how we narrate our story
11th September 2016
"Plenitude"
a full circle
centre point
the dream, it
swiftly approaches
through storms
walking on oceans
like devotion
bare feet take
glass surfaces
breaking
the vigil
for the mirror bleed
part of the waking
vessel displacement
passing over rough seas
through fiery
St Elmo tempest
glides Witchfire
on the wings
of an albatross angel
like mariner mystery
delivered
through
labyrinthine
forests reflecting
great depth
from the deepening
symbols like music
Hymn believed
to be seen
the way lit
by St David’s
candles
pinions stretched
like great alms
in the genuflect
a swollen offering
the breath billows
to tranquil tempest
leviathan
brought to its knees
gifted in the anointed reprieve
here the feeding
to undertow
inessential
the shallows
dissolving
in higher vibration
a full circle
centre point
the dream closes
a small sleep
then upon
mortal coil shuffling
the scales
weighed and shed
a new time of rising
a new time of waking
the fast broken
forget hesitation
take in the lost
words like wafers to host
on tongues never spoken
reprieve
plenitude
peace
the incomplete
complete
the circle not broken
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Like a tumbleweed aimlessly blowing in the wind
across infinitely open and wide prairie home companion land
(which wasteland famously epitomized by T.S. Elliot)
a barren vista ravages metaphorical landscape
of one measly mortal malcontent male
bumping and scraping along accursed habiliment
just barely avoiding and dodging diabolical demons
mercilessly and unrelentingly ready
to seduce this somewhat sanguine Simian
who finds himself amidst the pitfalls
of a tortured and twisted existence
racked with pinions describe bing
a demonic dragon filled dungeon
damp, dark, demented domains –
a veritable no man’s land
impossible to escape no matter how fast I -
as a foo fighter flee
from the fearful, fierce-some phantasmagoric forms
figments of my imagination seemingly real
tangible as bone and flesh
who haunt sacred crowded house of slumber
transmogrify me into a loathsome madman
ranting raving senseless gibberish and sic gobbledygook
perceived as metaphysically n philosophically insane
as soundgarden syllabification
from one womanly World Wide Web wayfarer
which virtual vagabond venerates vowels
and possesses means and tees to till verse
akin to a sorceress who waves a magic wand
to produce supreme sentences
weaves tantalizing terrific tweed topographic tundra’s
that this admirer of her artful and colorful poetic endeavors
prompts me to accompany my mindscape
as a thought-provoking troubadour
amidst the information super byways and highways
along winding labyrinths of critical thinking
or simply stepping o'er rolling stones
of silly rhymes without wing less reason
all the while giving subtle egress
into that chamber of secrets
long kept shut tight to maintain
that sure footed stance of solitude
whose only entities happened
to constitute trappings of literary lugubriousness
those tombs of largesse identified
as great works and masterpieces of literature
yet careful to avoid complete intimacy
lest that cherished solitude shattered
and a heart rent asunder
twin tower ring inferno imp perils of loss that provide
an understandable cautionary tale
to the author of this rambling missive
a most profoundly perceptive acute Ape man
touched to the quick with a bit of angel dust
aware that this agonized and angst riddled arboreal beast
contents himself with the confines of cyberspace!