Long Purling Poems
Long Purling Poems. Below are the most popular long Purling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Purling poems by poem length and keyword.
Ever these gifts from Eos of dawn,
Her mornings gently purling with ray’s early luster
To herald new sunrise, a jasper flare--
Robed in ornate chiffon waltzing quietly
On marbled hills, on awakened floral glide:
How fragrance explodes into creamy nectar
Luscious as her avian flock and bahiagrass,
With dainty hands strewing mist upon trees
Through chants of daybreak's invocation,
Granting all with tokens from maiden prayers…
And we offer beads of gratitude and homage
For newborn dreams yet to be fulfilled,
Till she renders vestal light to the wild of noon.
For Anthony Biaanco's Gifts Contest :
6/18/2020
Written: November 24, 2023
_____________________________________________
Seraphic sand is sapped on the seashore
As swirling waters swallowed the load roar.
The roiling river rapidly ground to an oar
Shore seaweed—pure praise to restore.
A skylark beat the cords, its wings galore
Brilliant sky; rapt gasp wails fading before.
Moon sashayed stars as it whiffed implore
Tides will come and flee—still nevermore.
Upon heavens, a moon casts a silvery hoar
On the whiffed coo, as the seas' soft afore.
Whispered tunefully while purling in abhor
I walked around tiptoes, humming a chord.
Until the sun rose with a blazing core
used their citrin cord to snag the spore.
Beneath the laminated heavens built for you and I,
memories in turn of century cylinders are lost and
passing by. They beckon with a wail and personal applause
Inviting you to join, before the day withdraws.
Ignore the early stations, lost in their vignettes -
A reservoir of gemini left purling in its wake,
the scent of east-side lobster served well past its date,
daylight wasting in a condo twice sublet,
and elderflower friends that you have never MET.
Depart at Bowery and look for me -
where excess steam exhales forgotten memories
whispered out by cafes turned to sensory
bazaars, and dissipates among avowals left undone
by boys preoccupied by counting stars, not suns.
Exhausting spirits in proportion to their zinfandel -
Until you wander back by east-side locking doors,
past sleeping cats in midnight grocery stores,
at last to sunken homes with tortoise shells
to sleep beneath the echoes of farewells.
Antares' red glow bears firmly down
upon plush, chartreuse carpet
lying prone against the obsidian expanse,
blanketing sections of a remote
blue sphere, purling,
spinning helplessly
through distant time and space;
slave to routine and rotation,
never daring to break free;
to reach out.
Scorpius sprawls low
across the Autumn void;
a celestial corpse
twinkling, twitching;
inexplicably still breathing,
expelling the last
of her precious plexine light
in a final, desperate act
to awake inspiration, stir passion,
proffer wholeness and healing
to an infirmed, ungrateful planet,
for her end-of-reign recession.
Projecting dreams; visions
like swirling Akashic holograms
leaping forth from ancient pages
of ethereal records,
all but lost to time and apathy.
Twisting snakelike through the cosmos,
her broody gaze steeling
in every direction;
fierce energy bombarding;
burning across the universe.
Intense joules bursting forth;
reaching out to nurture
willing universal souls;
scorching those who reject her,
turning them to table fodder
at a divine banquet
for dark gods.
Sagittarius flickers jovially behind
as if breathless with laughter;
taunting, frustrating,
staying just out of reach
of her vengeful tail.
The rule of Scorpio wanes
upon Orion's horizontal breach
extinguishing the sting-ed cluster;
quelling her tumultuous surge
until late-spring pains
rebirth her fires,
igniting them, emerging again
from the icy chasm
of black oblivion.
BELLS
I.
Bells has a tingling ring to it,
a jingledy-jangle silver tone.
The tympanic waltz, close knit —
angelic chorus of Christ’s throne.
And Winter parades its magic —
the pure white snow purling gold.
Morgans’ shiver and shake chromatic.
Enchantment’s carol — behold!
O Christmas day — the pearly gates
stretched wide open in senssuround,
handbells harmonious, worldwide translate
singing, sweeping, melody crowned.
~
II.
*Poesome bells! They’re morose.
Tentacles dingle-dangle forth.
Curious onlooker of its strokes,
midnight binds its ears, looks North.
The lonesome brass calls for lad
and lass with clean cuts and braids.
The aww-no sound is clad
in a nonsenseless grade.
*Edgar Allen dawdles with death clang,
its clanger brain, hellish.
The beauty, from tower hangs —
the dauber of knells doth relish.
12/20/2020
*Some thoughts from Poe’s poem “The Bells”
.
Purling
As the lotus 'mongst the waft top
wet
Arciforming
With the pretty colorful rainbow
bent
Infiltrating
Deeply the sinews whence mine I found
mirth
Noticing
Every breathe flaunting the passion of mine
colleen
Sweating
Whilst in hern depth
roaring
*Libertine: 14th century < Latin libertinus< libertus "somebody freed from
slavery" < liber "free" ;)