Long Plasma Poems
Long Plasma Poems. Below are the most popular long Plasma by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Plasma poems by poem length and keyword.
It was New Years Eve so they decided to have a special dinner for two
they ate spinach, noodles, and ham with a dab of orange mustard glaze
red candles burned softly on the linen cloth, as the old year flew
They watched Alice in Wonderland with the fireplace ablaze ;
At 8, he made a nice espresso coffee with Bailey and served it hot
with lemon filled panettone. It was a lovely middling snack.
She tried to keep her eyes open
but the night was gloaming with umbra
so she went upstairs and faded into sleep
dreaming of spells plasma and levitations
Try as she may, the knowledge of New Year was far away until
exactly midnight then,
RATTLE RATTLE (went the doorknob) It woke her from her sleep
"Happy New Year" she said half sleepy to a silent door. She assumed
it was hubby entering the room. Hubby was still downstairs messaging.
(THE GHOST OF NEW YEARS EVE)
"I saw her through the key hole she was fast asleep. I checked
on him. He was sitting on a couch waiting for midnight. I figured
I better get her up, so I jiggled the doorknob loud enough to wake her.
It wasn't very hard for she slept like a hollow egg shell. "
RATTLE RATTLE went the doorknob. By morning she realized her
visitor must have been an alien from outer space. She combed her
hair, washed her face then with coffee perched on a desk wrote a
true story. The first one on poetry soup. (smile) Ghosts are real.
If you believe it, you see it , if you don't, you won't .
and yes, it was a real good meal....
January 1, 2019
contest name: Slap the muse and turn it loose
In Lochness, an undulating giant lives;
legendary Nessie; giant oarfish or
prehistoric remnant?
No one knows for certain,
but he bothers no one; leave him be.
In mountainous terrain, walks the Yeti.
Part man; part beast; perhaps the missing link?
Science said of its remains,
“It is a relative of ancient polar bears”; perhaps.
In Jersey woods, people say a, “Devil” hides;
a new species or an experiment in genetics, gone awry?
There are many Doctor Moreau’s and Frankenstein’s,
in this world and they do,
abandon their mistakes.
Regardless, life is life and
it must be respected,
for harmony to reign.
What if cryptids aren’t myth?
People say, “You can’t cross a rabbit with a cat”,
but it has been done.
Perhaps humankind has made,
the mistakes of ancient ancestors;
maybe centaurs and fauns were once…real?
On such an old planet…whom can be certain?
Ancient texts and glyphs, speak of many things,
mythical and legendary and history does…repeat.
Someone had to tamper with genetics,
to discover that pig arteries,
can work in the human body;
that cow plasma, could too.
The human explores its world;
exploiting even ravaging other species,
without concern for the end result.
Perhaps, humans should leave, well enough alone.
“Nessie”, “Yeti”, “Jersey Devil”; cryptids,
like all life, should be free to live.
The human species,
is the most deadly and destructive,
of all predators.
Clearly, not the smartest, at times;
Not even with regard to, its other siblings.
Humans seem to obliterate everything, they touch;
never caring for the harm that they do…until it’s too late.
Even then, some never lend anymore thought, to their deeds.
Why’d you dig that hole George,
are there rabbits down there?
Too many Lennie
like me they’re in despair
Don’t be afraid to look now
I’ll stand right behind
Ok I will!
George took out his gun all primed
If I seem distant
it’s not because I’m far
I’ve always been here
your binary star
Two for one was always
our dream spot in space
As George felt plasma
splat across his face
For the first time ever
Lennie’s mind came alight
Brains blew outward
behold what a sight
Symbiosis ends
when one half explodes
Locked in syndrome gone
no need to reload
Down the rabbit hole
lies that smoking gun
It may solve a dilemma
but can never be undone
Ever wonder why
fools stare blank upon skies
They just don’t see them
until they possess no eyes
By David Kavanagh
Eye contact at a bar,
Laughter mixes pheromones,
Irises dilate as dark euphoria sets
Two unavoidable actions in motion.
His double action Adams apple pumping
As her lips glisten after a tongue bath.
Lightning cracks inside, deafening logical rhythm,
Channeling energy into porcelain-like
Vessels of desire.
Muscle tightens under skin, defining
Halted passion, sensual urges, and plasma thirst.
Blood pumps into veins, temperature is in flux,
Perceptions re-imagined, recollecting interests.
She sees his primal fierce eyes, sculpted body
Under a new light. A canvas to etch her
Screams in with red polish. Painful,
Pleasurable thoughts invade, creating
Memory before action.
He smells her fragrance, he feels her breaking
Resolve submitting to him. The chemistry of his
Anatomy pulling, swimming, clawing at each
Fiber of her being. Her skin’s cold and moist,
His, warm banana nut bread.
First embraces, friction, resistance, motions
In oceans of soaked sheets. Powerful
Contractions, condensation on windows,
Perspiration dripping beads over
Limbs. Forcing self upon self is
Maddening, to conceive, to imagine
Hard sounding drums pounding
Soft harmonic beats into one
Human melody.
Exhaustion, the wasteland of battle,
Blood and lipstick swirling eyeliner into
War paint. Carcasses lay strewn, scars
Ridden across back and thigh.
Tears fall down cheeks out of pure
Joy and affirmation of lust.
May I buy you another?
The best choice of words
Made a dream come true
For whom?
She drapes herself on top of a ziggurat
Smoking a menthol cigarette
My queen dressed in green
She gazes at the stars up high
And whispers secrets to the sky
Her eyes are deep, her thoughts profound
Her feet don’t touch the sacred ground
She can be so obscene
With her smile serene
She fiddles with my soul for fun
And has me on the run
This mystical woman of the moon
A siren’s call, a haunting tune
She holds me captive with her stare
A spell that's woven, beyond compare
I’m lost in her, I can’t break free
This woman of the moon’s got a hold on me
Her ways are strange, her thoughts unknown
A world apart, a place I’ve never known
But I’m drawn to her, like moth to flame
This mystical woman — never the same
Her heightened stare I cannot escape
She watches me like I was prey
But I do not really mind
I like it
I wear her name in henna on my skin
I hear her voice when night begins
This mystical woman of the moon
A siren’s call, a haunting tune
She holds me captive with her stare
A spell that's woven, beyond compare
I’m lost in her, I can’t break free
This woman of the moon’s got a hold on me
Her hair shimmers with the dust of stars
Her eyes gleam with a green fire that’s ours
She is the challenge I’ve waited for
A chance to prove I’m worthy of adore
A creature not of our shores
She burns with an emerald flame
A holy vision in the night
Woman of destiny, woman of fright
The universe bends to her whim
She twists time and the will of men
Moving like plasma, fierce and grand
The female Mazda takes command
This mystical woman of the moon
A siren’s call, a haunting tune
She holds me captive with her stare
A spell that's woven, beyond compare
I’m lost in her, I can’t break free
This woman of the moon’s got a hold on me
She sets my heart on fire
Of her, I’ll never tire
Shapes, colors, and surfaces have long nature shone.
Anthocyanin in plant sap gives blossoms their tone.
All tones in the universe bear upon humankind.
Waves and waterfalls etched them and mixed their shade.
Convey the can as you scale the stage.
Time-frozen iconographies suggest a swage.
Plenty of vivid glass catches the glow.
Irate particles romp on men's mental stow.
The reflection turns into a textual kaleidoscope.
Colored focal points require fewer scopes.
An orchestra of renovated wedded couples.
Flawless faith, hopeful person sees are ambles.
Portrayed as intelligent, smooth, and vesicated
Heartfelt, tribute, neologisms, and undefeated
Breeze, arthropods, tomorrow existence.
Immortal, everlasting, fluid, and uniqueness.
I cross the means no less than six times each day.
Shading hidden by business has changed our stay.
Medication and nutritious food scoundrels sell in the media.
Helping and executing purchaser lunacy mania.
A softness showed two similar views, one on each side.
The right eye sees truth while the left sees hatred.
Genius is connecting light shards social joy and bliss
He was imprisoned in an application's abyss.
Intriguing gizmos enrapture an expansive client base.
Fresh iOS and Android pimps are joining the robot race.
Expertise has supplanted skill in this serene stream
Rough labor, uniqueness, and prior heresy are extreme.
All these are linked to the hues glass and kaleidoscope.
Vision has shifted as a result of the modernity slope.
A lively soul distinguishes a plasma from a flower.
Portray our creation with the original god's power.
Written: August 20, 2021
August 2021 NA's Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Kaleidoscope Poetry Contest
Judged : August 23, 2021
Uncle Sam demands you file your taxes timely,
no excuses accepted...he will impose a fine;
don't think of committing the perfect crime...
court appearance and jail time await the sly!
As anyone can see, honesty and promptness are required...
and to save money, you may choose to file your own taxes,
but be aware of the fine print leading to consequences;
is TurboTax the answer? Don't trust it, you may be fined!
Ask for an extension? Isn't it quite costly?
Can you pay on time to avoid the extra fee?
Now, don't make plans to buy an expensive plasma tv,
you willl have a better chance at winning the Lottery!
Heed my advice and do everything legally and expeditiously,
I have done this for forty-three years and never cheated;
I slept at night, and woke up without worrying daily...
reminding myself that honesty and promptness are required!
can we know the truth
was the question before Ludwig Wittgenstein
the thought pondered by all the great minds
philosophy, theology, and science could produce
and i have pondered all of this
then you enter the room
the smile you wear acknowledges within me
the love you bear for me
eyes that consume me in ownership
an Elysian meadow from which
i wander in the beloved moments
your hand joined in mine
outside of this plasma we share
the mathematics continues unfolding
can we know the truth, a single one
the Golden Ratio continues
yet the butterfly wings' omen
has never come to fruition of anything
such as the heavens awaiting you bring
Camus held life was meaningless
died another drunken fatality
proving some lives are meaningless
while others pursue highways
changing lives with an elucidating sobriety
it was in your essence i found the key to life
logic has filled many a potter's field
an infinity of complications to the equation
on-off ramps, cul-de-sacs, straightaways
claws upon the chalkboard at the necropolis
and the key was in surrendering to your lips
ending the barriers within of shattered hearts
leaving the cave of shadows
down the dark corridors
into the light you are
as your hand glides into my cheek
our eyes lock in an embrace
i have come to know God
never gives up His chase of Grace
blind fools who wake up and see
the angels have always been
walking with us
Oregon 10/23
Packed my 92-year-old dad
Into the old Lansing-made black Cadillac
To see the Detroit Symphony play at Wharton
We’re dressed up at the red light of Waverly and Saginaw
This vital busy corridor
Once home to Schmidt’s Estes Furniture Leonard’s Appliances
A golf course with sledding hill
Sully’s Drive-In
Now this crossroad is a Plasma Center a closed Rite Aid and a fortressed Walgreens
Along with the many amateur drug dealers
Meth heads wandering with their hook hands out on corners
Holding cardboard signs Anything Will Help
Hair wild like bamboo shoots
Golf course long ago abandoned the hill fenced off
An automated carwash over Hole 13
Next to us rumbles a pickup truck
Two huge flags stuck up in the wind from the rack in back
One
A faded dirty American flag
The other
Blue and black FxxK Biden
Two fat hillbillies laugh it up in the cab
Blow their horn
Children from nearby cars learn how to read
Shame
This is the capital city of Michigan
Wharton is jammed with suits and gowns
White-tapped graduation caps
The theater a carpet canyon of chatter
Next to the baton-poking Maestro from Italy
Stands a blond violin soloist with a sassy haircut
Red dress and red lips
A fire roaring to the center of those seated companions
Stringing and preening around her
She dips and weaves her wild bow under her chin
For 35 minutes of solo flame-throwing
At the end as we stand and bravo
I look over to my dad
He is weeping
“Are you ok Dad?”
“It’s just so magnificent what humans can do
And this will probably be my last symphony
And I was able to spend it with you.”
My mouth curls
I wonder whether this might be the last symphony
For any of us.
solely solar:
truly toddler sun crawling
on canvas of cosmos
five billion years ago
as protostar
formed from stellar plasma
of cosmic charisma.
spinning sun with solar system
revolving around center
of milky way galaxy,
fantastic but not fantasy.
sun flare in glare,
sunspots to spot in variance.
sun corona, outermost arena
to mesmerize.
sunrise to sunset
showering spectacular surprise.
sun scattering rays
cascading in opulence,
supplying energy, initiating life on earth,
to grow flora and fauna in diversity,
carrying evolution on earth
in beast and beauty,
displaying hues and tunes
in Nature on smart reality.
on human conception,
sun, a massive fiery whirling ball
of burning hydrogen :
another five billion years left
to exhaust its fuel
following the life cycle
of an ordinary star
tending to be a red giant
ending in white dwarf
obeying chandrasekhar limit:
it’s limited credibility.
yet !
startling fact to assimilate:
sun with its solar system,
a nano item
holding a trivial position in universe,
comparable to a tiny sand particle in sahara desert..
then !
where to find humans
blessed by energy of sun?
seems a fun.