Long Potions Poems
Long Potions Poems. Below are the most popular long Potions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Potions poems by poem length and keyword.
The smile that I wear,
the real one left somewhere behind.
They think I am all set free,
but I feel I am bound with chains.
Trapped in the mystery and escaping dreams,
guess these are trials of defeated emotions,
yet this pain keeps me going.
Keeping me sane with magical potions,
with a heart that keeps my blood flowing.
Through all the storms and struggles,
I lie here,
broken in pain,
clinging to life.
I wonder what this is supposed to be?
you can’t be my yearning,
not something I always want to try to reach for more.
Ceaseless you should be with me,
peacefully flowing within me.
© Chitra Arun | Year Posted 2019
on a winters night
the cold moon
magically casts spells
casting silver shadows
in her cool light
crystal clear
into deep waters
one falling star
shining dust trails
winking sparkles
mixing lonely potions
with interwoven emotions
love powers feelings
wishing the heart away
dazzling magic kisses
embraces her light
sweet music plays
nestled in a field
of deep echoes
written upon
stone foundations
on the hill
of forgotten dreams
golden ascending greatness
opens the heart door
awakening love
a star shining
magically alone
into one dream
dawning this night
spent alone
snows upon reality
looking down wamly
a cold moon
this Christmas
Instinctive emotional response before considered thought,
experienced salutation by proprioception wrought.
Whispers towards the required faith,
when the gut feeling is the mate.
Hesitations that determine any destination,
following the knowing will of reputation.
Perspective intelligence to trust the instinct,
respect the walk of given path distinct.
Inherited ability to never walk alone,
peptides communication as metaphor sown.
The beauty from the guts allow decision in instant,
conviction of the mind by phenomenal insistent.
The differentiation of genius from mediocre,
cleared up doubts and righteous provoker.
The invisible map of intuition,
contributing solution coming to fruition.
Guts in power sets itself in perfect place and time,
the process of necessities in all the same.
O my guts, mother Mary and Joseph,
blessings in potions of wisdom are always enough.
arminius a German vassal prince, offered bait.' Of the best. More
Land in Germanica off to their west.' Two legions decamped
And were led on their way, by this dastared arminius villian
Of that day' his warriors were waiting in undergrowth thick
Druids there many, made potions; chanted and waved sticks'
Publius and two legions.' Were slaughtered en'masse nailed on to the oak trees.' What can we draw; from such a pass?
I gather the (dark gods of nature) were sated: with gore?
Did the havests grow better.' Was the weather more sure?
Quick snapshot of horror, 1940's again war.' Oak leaves on
ss lapels, gets my attention for sure! fast forward to our time
And 'a green planet to save' claus a swiss again pagan' and the
commitment 'to grave' measures to protect all nature at
Any costs.' Even introducing con-vid (and the intervention)
Though human lives could be damaged and lost.' Yet the the
Back drop is an area of 'green has emerged since around
The naughties? Well so I have heard? Twice the size of the
U S.' Will any experts concur.? Or show by a mapping' maybe
With a ( lectern chart and stick ?) Like we saw throughout
That con-vid ' the very thought of which; gets me sick.)
When Neptune's
nostalgic sighs,
weave ruffled rosaries
of brocade ink,
bleeding from
blackberry wrinkles
in torrential time,
I wonder if
herculean eyes
of my earthen heart,
are afraid of being
abandoned by the
electric rhapsody
of life's alienated
aroma.
Swinging on the
translucent
parabola of a
frozen rainbow,
my fate is
skewed as a
cantaloupe
silhouette, of
helix-shaped
maple pamphlets,
where, bluebirds
feast on decaying
seeds of love
and sing
hemlock-croons
in those magnolia
gardens.
But,
what if stars
were edible and
I devoured their
ivory scintilla,
submerging
cosmic potions
in my arteries,
iridescent with
clusters of
quasar's quivering
rays and pulsar's
pistachio glitter?
So now,
I collect
volcanic ash
from rust-orange
ruins of dahlia's
dreamscape
and embalm
them with
paradise-pink hues
of distilled empathy,
for my swan-white
halo of faithful
silence, is still
glowing with
sombre yet
glossy shine
of the linen sun
and I inhale
the fragrance of
my marshmallow moon.
I'm sorry by the other girls' mistakes you now suffer deep-rooted PTSD
But please use a lifeline in your heart - and if I'm your last one - believe me
You're so observant, alert, and with accurate intuition you see
Admit to me that for a while now - you can see you're the reason I breathe
I am not the one who has wronged you in your past
When I love, I love with ALL I have - passionately making us forever last
If there's something troubling you and eating at you, all you do is talk & ask
To the one you TRULY love with all your soul - NEVER wear a mask
To the one you love with all your soul, NEVER deceive, cheat, or lie
If one day you're wanting true love - go out of your comfort-zone and try
Never in front of or behind - always remaining next to your best side
Communication, consistency, chemistry, & connections will then all collide
My one and only - and your one and only, too
I challenge you with me to create something magically anew
I'm on something completely different - and something tells me you knew
I've come into your world to fill it with vivid colors - from your sickly blue
You're up and down with me, but you truly make an effort to try with me
What if we find out later, it's each other that sets our hearts blazingly free?
What if we find out later, it's each other that makes us clearly see?
Recognize we ARE the ones who make each other the best we can be
If you spend your time painstakingly pushing all of me away
Then you still haven't forgiven them - or yourself - even today
If in your head those bad memories repeat over and over like a play
There's no way you are truthful about how much you loved me yesterday
If you fill in stories, quotes, and situations with fake and synthetic emotions
It becomes the difference between witch's poisons and potions
So I make very certain I watch every word, clue, action, body, and motions
If I'm secure in your life - my love would overfill this universe's oceans
Samuel Woodruff was a very old man, who once drummed for the army;
That marched to his rhythmic music, along with all fifers, playing hearty.
That was a lifetime ago, in dawn days so pink, golden, and richly green;
Like petal strewn time moving backward, to the premiere, pivotal scene.
Samuel never stopped playing drums, like mulberry heartbeats of sunset,
And played them after his daily walks; like the love you will never forget.
His fast friend, Comet, followed him, through fields of fascination flowers;
As he made up ditties to match the beat, of the flaming, futuristic hours.
Of faithful family, Sam had none, but for his fond, faddish sister, Pauline;
Who felt every fandangle pulse of summer, like allure on the silver screen.
Sam lived in the house of memories, of past and present changing places;
Where often rolling thunder was noted, like apricot roses, in cream vases.
Starlight snuck in windows, on a street that never seemed to say goodbye;
As sophisticated moon adored supper music, of redbirds, next to ebon sky.
Neighbor children noticed Sam's ditties, and often trailed behind to listen,
To each verse of nostalgia, featuring him. They loved all the fun repetition!
'Mad dog skullcaps' were running amok, when black-eyed Susans, sparkled;
And bright daffodils recalled Narcissus, when magenta butterflies, startled.
'Cupid's dart' flowers were hitting the mark, working magic in love potions;
While chrysanthemums spread the 'truth,' in vivid colors, of every emotion.
Samuel was heading home, one weekend day, and a huge crowd followed;
Comprised of both children and adults, like pretty colors, sunset swallowed.
The people sang along and clapped with Sam, to the song so easy to learn,
As Sam played his drum to the march, elated with sweet memory's return!
Many years have gone since then, and though Samuel's no longer around,
Folks still march while singing his song; as violets spring from the ground.
'This old man, he played one,
He played knick-knack on my thumb,
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.'
Look around; Gaia is crying,
for whales and elephants dying.
Honeybee numbers are way down:
Gaia is crying; look around.
Plastic pollutes our world's oceans:
creating poisonous potions.
Despite organic substitutes,
our world's oceans; plastic pollutes.
Climate change, our future forecast,
was wrought by greed, present and past.
Today, global warming sounds strange;
our future forecast, climate change.
We've overfilled all our landfills
and cut down trees for our sawmills.
City garbage dumps are backfilled
all our landfills: we've overfilled.
We feign surprise while glaciers melt
at speeds not previously felt.
Because we choose to believe lies
while glaciers melt: we feign surprise.
I should've predicted the dilemma right from the start.
When you parked your car, sideways, across my heart.
Too far gone to see, too emotionally invested to care.
A gradoise illusion to your thousand yard stare.
Feelings of belonging whilst rejoicing in laughter.
My mind simply concocting a happily ever after.
The kick from your beauty internally ingrained.
Any fears and dubiety subsequently waned.
The flame burns alight but old scars remember.
What once shone so bright is now ash and ember.
Dreams of connection shot the nest and flew.
The circle has no end, producing suffering anew.
Validation and consent to toy with my emotions.
Like a child blowing bubbles or a witch making potions.
Conceding I play no part in the life that you chose.
I stare to the sea, that's why they call it the blues.
A wave washes over me, in a figurative way.
As I replay the conversation had on that last day.
Like a beautiful serpent, you hissed 'you should've been flattered'.
As you turned. Walked away. My love story shattered.
Ephemeral Recollections of the Passage of Time
Ephemeral recollections of the passage of time
General inspections of a population in decline
Congenital directions of a genealogy in scientific refine
Perennial distortions of a perspective in pure mime
Elegant notions of a theory on entropy
Pertinent commotions of what the third eye can truly see
Innocent devotions about what it’s like to live in poverty
Malcontent emotions over what it means to be truly free
Singular visions for the indiscriminately proud
Angular decisions as you power through the crowd
Rectangular incisions on the throats of the politically loud
Perpendicular divisions as the dead are placed into their shrouds
A cacophony forming at the base of a mountain range
The topography calling out the wierd and indiscriminately strange
The cartography of the wicked and the fundamentally derranged
The anthropology of society and what it means to be defamed
Litigious corporate lawyers claiming their money on the side
Ambitious politicians out for what they cannot hide
Pernicious inhibitions of a man enslaved by pride
The vicious extraditions of those who just jumped on for the ride
Enlightening notions of the concepts of spiritual awakening & transcendence
Frightening potions of imposition and rememberance
Lightening bolts of intuition and incendiary elegance
Siphoning jolts of inhibition as we see through the embellishments
Contaminated water and superficial elements of decay
The celebrated quarter of what it means to have your say
The inundated distorter of truth among the games that we play
The contentious border of Ukranian land on international display
We walk this earth in discontent and observation of the crimes
And give a wide girth to the consequence of the symbol of the times
But what we have learned in the enlightened abstinence has created pure refine
And what we’ve earned in the brightened elegance, as we proudly step out of line