Long Quiddity Poems

Long Quiddity Poems. Below are the most popular long Quiddity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quiddity poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Stunning Stranger SCHIZOPHRENIC

Written: May 23, 2024, For Charlotte Puddifoot Contest

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Always hear hollering hellhounds, yet nothing close, nobody home,
Paranoia, psychosis, schizophrenia, ponder lacked lucidity, pleaching, poohing...
Haggard horrors haunt house vapid vacuous voices vision vortex brain echolalia blizzard blurred,
Tongue-tied thesis tumbling thioridazine fragmented far-fetched foolish.
Calling a crisis center schizoid living outward echoing elusive illicit improper illusions,
Covert contact, surreptitiously scrambled temporal touch twisted, crazy confusion,
Crushed stone stillness devours daylight dubious demons daring devastation temped talking back
Lurking, leering, licentious, catatonic, gloom, diabolical hostility Asymmetry alien attack,
A hebephrenic sponge spotted sapidity, created from amorphous stardust
Spiritual medium anathematizes purest spirit, holy sight scrupulousness
Highly sensitive slip-hold around ethereal auric field questing for quetiapine quiddity,
Seraphic spirit shined with cyan mystical majesty under full light lavender moon, 
Quid pro quo, eugenic resile lobotomized deflated phosphorescent schizophrenia
Ignoring magnificent mind suffered puerile mental wellness, without grasp: why!
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Beyond the Chromatic Spectrum

Written: April 28, 2026

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To those who weigh the world in chromatic chains, I say:
I am not a color—
not a cast, not a cloak,
not a fleeting film of oak.
I am the quiet quiddity beneath,
the breath before breath,
the ember behind the eyes.
I am not an appearance.
I am an essence—
the amaranthine spark,
the zoetic whisper stark
woven through the body’s brief art.

In my heart
lie folds of forgotten fire,
hollows of hidden hymns,
vaults of velvet silence
where old sorrows soften
and new mercies rise.

In my heart
a city of longings glows—
no red lines,
no barred borders —
no gates to guard the beloved.
All beloved ones dwell there,
all beloved ones,
their names like amber incense,
their laughter a lissome litany
lifting through luminous streets.

In my heart
An olive grove whispers—
It's glittery silver leaves,
with seraphic screams
glued to laden drinking,
from wells of ancient fruits.

In my heart. 
The green homeland is blooming —
a haven of eternal thrive
a world where every soul
is seed and soil,
pilgrim and place,
origin and return.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Rapture of Rot

Written: August 02, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
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In the slipshod cradle beneath the apple tree,  
a bruised fruit folds ajar—  
molten sweet sapidity pooling  
through velvet skin.  
Eviscerated grace, they say,  
but I grasp the quiddity of life unmasked.

A burnt sienna kiss of aurora—  
flesh undulating with fungal bloom,  
wispy gossamer threads that stitch  
the inevitable return to the earth.  
It is not ruined.  
It is a transformation:  
a diaphanous ballet  
between death and what dreams may grow.

We ogle brightness,  
but rot is brighter still—iridescent with purpose,  
alabaster spores pirouetting as sylphlike specters  
on a sacred odyssey to placate  
the starving soil.  
It is seraphic.  
It is a panacea.  
It is quintessence made humble.

Rapture lies in this ineffable nexus—  
decay whispers loud as a lullaby.  
The rakish grubs maunder through  
a velvet pyre of rind and memory,  
and the loquacious beetle sermonizes  
on endings as beginnings,  
as though time had a gullet  
And rot was its sweetest wine.

Call it grotesque.  
Call it abhorrent.  
But beauty—true, ineffable beauty—  
wears many masks.  
And in these nebulous throes of perishing,  
I watch a face burnished by truth,  
smiling with roots in its eyes.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Love Nostalgia Epilogue

Written: May 2nd, 2024

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Quixotic quest quiddity
As dusk sapidity emerges, 
Casting a shadow 
Weeping waves smash 
in foamy scatters; 
seraphic strophic sojourn 
groans in a gossamer gaunt
Arid shadows fade. 
In a hazy blur, 
emptiness lingers. 
Shorebirds console each other. 
in epicedes of 
velvety whispers 
and elusive sighs. 
Horizon amid 
cinereous graffiti of 
tear-stained threnody and 
raven blooms.  
 
It breaks my heart, too
with crimson, auric, and 
plum, plum, purple wings, 
why haven't you 
returned 
to me in spring? 
to our moon-smeared love
& diaphanous elixir
amethyst kisses of 
emerald ablaze,
spiraling in seductive 
sapphire scarlet sounds,
Your love, a fiery flow
Flames aflame, 
with gemstones aglow.

Dark ideas settle in
my head is akin to 
a tombstone,  
Obstructing—my judgment
early hours are lost
in the fog, 
their significance dimmed
I succumb to allure
of nightfall and 
I shut my eyes. 
Acquiesce to inquiry 
in heaven, each flower
boasts a mirror
to inveigle into each valley,  
Beneath a sky of 
countless clouds;
quaint lodge stands out, 
surrounded 
by a myriad of 
shimmering ponds 
capture a vast expanse 
of coastlines.
Uncharted shores, 
where vessels veered
toward vast seas, 
untrodden by any praxis   
 
As twilight falls,
coastlines curve in a crescendo
across horizon.
Cloaking hill peaks in mist.
loquacious verbosity
recognized in wisdom 
beyond spectrum of 
circumlocution.
In a flurry of 
fading flowers,
faith-filled fields, &
fugacious felicity. 
Snare drum rotunda 
somberly chimes
within a forest, 
Its dulcet echos rhyme.   
 
We've wandered down 
curious trails
basking in the sun 
warm embrace; 
In depths of shadows, 
We've sought with fear, 
an ambient arena,  
vast and near. 
Unveiling a shore infinite, 
In an abyss where 
every heart resides.
With its boundless skies
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Waning Twilight

Written: March 09, 2024 For Charlotte Puddifoot Contest

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with serendipitous moans—ocean lulls
                  It's russet embers
ignite her soul's             quilled longings

she flies to bloomy sky-scape
           last sigh        of waning twilight 

chirpy mirth—katydid sounds
                            waves of
                                   soft silk canzone

to whispering crimson
                         of ephemeral serenade

waves of arid shadows— ebb in
blurring haze            of lingering longing

besotted in spumy                scatters sighing

In epicede of hushed                Elysian quiddity
            quixotic susurrus—shorebirds' sapidity

horizon in cinereous             ululation of Peacocks
             rainbows and sylphlike threnody

my heart too, mirths...         waiting 
for you to return to me—in spring

renascent wings                  wings of crimson
              gold and plums of purples!
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Strange Precept

The sour with the sweet makes a good palate,
Aroma with the breeze has a dreamy fill great;
Odd with the even sounds might make a muse
While scattered colours in order, often do fuse
Thus forming the whole out of shards lost apart
And diffuse well on the cryptic imagination chart

All goodness may go ignored  with full timidity
As aversion lets down the innate noble quiddity ;
Unless foiled by a vice that lends a salty contrast
Stangely,things warped are liked crazily too fast;
And a faultyoddity in an unfeigned just act or  fact
Is often savoured and passed on with rich impact

Sheer, pristine things manifest though,are queried
And a dubious,sham,masked present is unparried
A flaw makes the good sufferer, to heights swell
While a virtue in an evil one casts no such spell
The domain of percepts is a mingled motley set
Perhaps picking the sorted and the lost ones yet
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Along Dry Path

Am I fitful,
fluctuating, fluid? 
thin compass waver
as I jubilantly weave
lilac tree vignettes 
that weep or chortle,
rainbow figment curtain
rashly wished upon
in grain smudge zephyr
garnet sand raw vehicle 
garden common opal 
transit sidestep
to a multiverse 
of sappy fruit drip
net bag of niche
mauve rim canopy 
a gilt ring culprit’s 
flashpoint conjure 
stirring taxi cabs 
of lavish spurt  
woolgathering 
a gold rush stray
footslog must 
have steel encased. 
undulating folds
entangled nomad feint
dwarf yellow scorcher
firmament fatality
dash for straw hut
casita or elm 
wood cabin where 
advertence on
turnpikes, trails,
woven tracks lead
trajectory abuts
plod along dry path 
dust bowl swirling as 
they spurn allotments
meek enshrouded lull
with unalloyed poise 
to jettison narcolepsy  
brief embargo on
spiral plumule  
when one’s physique 
has many harrowing 
gasps, taut breath
that intrinsic quest 
for glistening cascade 
seems an urgent 
void, crushing  
diapason rudderless
mahatma clement at 
Arcadias nascent
totem of egress 
yet charismatic 
terminal flag 
as this sentient 
hypothesiser on 
emerald tint bract
beneath hiking boot
unflinching 
wild clasp at
beanpole verges
riven from
shade burst cockcrow 
lure an impetus 
to meandered pretext 
primeval boon-docks  
whilst tranquil flit 
discommoding tawdry 
pitch or tilt 
gaunt endowment
I must brood on
surreal moiety
of cerebral aspect 
squandered 
rude reckoning aside
lapse into sullen 
vacuum found across
a link whose blind  
velvet crush lingers
query later doused  
in vapour whirl gush
inkling thin veneer 
sheeny beadlet  
brow sapped 
nod and falter
to a childhood turf
shelter for the limb 
victim of grinding 
marathon on marathon 
to relish glow hue noons 
hermetically abeyant  
sempiternal eves  
avenue to wanderer 
fatigued yet still 
in broad pursuit 
of deep quiddity

Premium Member Spawns Dimness

Written: June 16, 2024

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Hope had gray hair and looked downcast,
Amid grieving and fears, hope is obscene.
At night, just a rocket and fanal were seen,
Life disappears into shrouds, leading to a blast.
 
Did the hurling and horrible air have a heart?
A single eye read the unformed wonder or boom.
He was the one who proved the current loom,
The quiddity draws the skies and earth apart.

Lord, my petition and argument are both fair,
What bears devils successful and me a failure?
Revolve their decay if the pair were my jailers,
Chervil-lined banks and curbs quiver with new air.

My sapient wairua creates an Elixir riddle ban,
Hoarding and ignoring nature led to a span.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Whispered Musing

Written: November 14, 2023
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We ventured into everlasting words
Cast-off Calix of clear canvas
Each concept basks in sunlight,
Our souls are depicted in blood
Our views overlap on each page
Blooms in the orchard are sprouting.

Our fingers flutter across the keys
In this seductive word melody,
We morph into the cynosure
Forthwith faraway frigid fiefdom,
But now, just via our whispered secrets
Our spirits may finally breathe here.

Words are written in ink on a nebulous canvas.
Skillfully crafted tapestry of throe emotions

Such a syllable is a solemn stroke,
Stripes serve as strokes of sorrow
Where canorous whispers are the norm,
We design a vivacious home for hearts
The quixotic drawing is finally full of life
Our words earn such a glorious graphic
A saffron sun caresses each letter
With kindness and gentleness.

In a world of amaranthine ambition
We decry quiddity in syntax,
A haven for the pellucid and broken
An oasis amid a shattered sphere
With every hushed revelation
Repairs and revamps are what we do best,
Weaving countless love tales.

So let us sustain writing
The panacea of hushed truths,
Where our spirits entwine
And our musings live in perpetuity.

Inscribed on the nexus of history,
We decry solace in this space,
Discovering, deciphering, and divinity,
Secrets that echoed soft susurrus.

Conveyed by the winds of destiny
Show us where hearts can connect
Words have curing and stirring power,
They can ignite the flames of craving
Embrace the power of the pen,
As we pen our muttered secrets.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Quixotic

In a world where dreams are rakish and quixotic,
Where quiddity seems extravagantly chaotic,
A chivalrous soul dares to be different.
With a heart that beats fervently, so magnificent.

Romantic notions dance in their minds.
A visionary quintessence they find,
Chimerical dreams they hold dear,
Preposterous, dreadful tracks they fear.

Age is just a number, they say.
Irrelevant in the pellucid pursuit of their way,
Happiness is the sense that one matters,
And their dreams are the ladder.

In a world where opia destruction prevails,
Where chaos and despair often trail,
Quixotic evidence emerges, bold and bright.
Roguish scope for rebuilding shines a light.

Dare to alter the world, they proclaim.
With sapidity gnawing such a flame,
It may seem quixotic, and some may sneer.
But their seraphic vision is so clear.

For in their hearts, they sojourn the key.
In a world where dreams roam free,
Where impossibilities become realities
And it's in this world, they find their vitality.

There is no scarcity of opportunity.
To earn a living doing what they love, with glee, 
Chasing in kuebiko without compromise.
For in their dreams, their spirit lies.

It erratically seems as if curbing entropy,
Is our quixotic goal in the cosmos, you foresee,
But in the midst of chaos, they stand tall.
With a determination that never stalls.

In a world where dreams are quixotic,
They refuse to be virtuosically robotic.
They believe in the anecdoche dreams.
And nothing, awry reality, dims their gleams.

They agnize that each sonder is just a number.
And that happiness is a monachopsis to remember.
They embrace the chivalrous and the romantic.
With an onism spirit that's truly ecstatic.

Word Bank:

Rakish: Smart; jaunty; dashing
Quixotic: Idealistic
Quiddity: Core-Subconscience
Chivalrous: Sublime, virtuous
Pellucid: Translucently clear
Opia: Dope, Addiction
Sapidity: Zest, Sapor
Kuebiko: State of exhaustion
Entropy: A situation of panic or disorder
Anecdoche: Amusing Tale
Sonder: Empathy, Compassion
Monachopsis: Confused
Onism: Delineate the awareness of how little of the world we will experience
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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