Long Quintilla Poems
Long Quintilla Poems. Below are the most popular long Quintilla by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quintilla poems by poem length and keyword.
I sauntered in an evening mist
A midnight's heaven, magic-kissed
Lamp-lit raindrops pattered, awesome
Shining city turned violet blossom
Enchantments I could ne'er resist.
Adrift upon the Paris, proper
Wandered I, a Yankee pauper
Until a Latin damsel's ride
Paused, as she pulled me inside
(Not that I had mind to stop her).
Away, into another world
She and I were thusly hurled
A night of excess, spinning fast
Absinthe sweetened our repast
As did lips, and tresses, curled.
Club-to-club we smartly hopped
More green nectar if we flopped
Pushing tenders to their rations
Just to fuel our backseat passions
On-and-onward, 'til we dropped.
All seems dream now, in my mind
Still, I'd swear that when we dined
Famous folks from ages hence
Were with us for our merriments
And all the mischief we could find.
The best of writers in their day
Zelda, F. Scott and Hemingway
Gertrude Stein and Porter, Cole
Pined, polemic, from their soul
Life and love, the friendly fray.
No discourse was too far-fetched
Others, too, who talked and sketched
Pablo Picasso and Gauguin, Paul
Dali and Man Ray, surrealists all
On, the wilding hours stretched.
Ever poured the emerald potion
Crazy cogs in constant motion
Clouding, thick, the mental fog
Far beyond the hair-of-dog
Glasses raised for every notion.
Thus it passed 'til all went black
Awaking days hence in my sack
Believing now that all these things
Were just a night's meanderings
Or the ramblings of a maniac.
I set my mind to purge it all
Grabbed my phone to make a call
Then spotted on my bed, a note
Within the pocket of my coat
So I crumpled it into a ball.
You see, I recognized the write
I'd seen it on that misty night
When, with absinthe, we'd our fill
And Hemingway had signed the bill.
So I sauntered off into the night ...
Too scared to find out ... if I was right.
* FOURTH PLACE in the "Dreams" Poetry Contest, Nayda Ivette Negron, Sponsor. *
The blood and lapis daylight sets
in ether. How the mind resets
brutality of winter chill
with February's codicil;
what gossamer a dream begets.
I hear the crickets in the dark,
their clicking takes up where the lark
has been. The flagrant marigolds
have huddled into twilight's folds,
on sanguine nightfall to embark.
The eastern zephyrs fall and rise
with rapid movement of my eyes
and echo whispers midnight makes
of blood white trails on moonlit lakes.
In silhouette I recognize
a dogwood, though can only sense
its glowing coral consequence.
The blossoms tell me they comprise
sweet spawn of sun rays in disguise
and capture all my heartbeats hence.
Now honeysuckle is entwined
on crisscrossed pathways of my mind
with jasmine in a potpourri
to conjure shamrock reverie
that leaves the pewter scape behind.
Around the lambent dogwood tree
alone upon that verdant lea
buds can prosper, bees will hum.
As though seduced by opium
I greet a vista I can't see,
at least not quite. I know it's there
and feel the dogwood everywhere,
behind me, flanking left and right,
an omnipresence in the night,
like answers to unconscious prayer.
Now high upon a clovered scarp
the tree is standing clear and sharp.
In silence I see restless blooms
play music that my ear assumes
is chiming dulcet as a harp.
Such Efflorescent star bursts splay
like windmills on a gusty day
that in ebullience do portend
a vibrance that will never end
and all my reticence allay.
In waking to a winter storm
that's February's gelid norm
I long still for my fulgid tree,
resplendence that surrounded me,
but only meet a turbid swarm.
I rise and pull back hermit drapes
to see the torrid flurries traipse,
yet through the chaos can discern
the leafless frame for which I yearn
beyond the window storming scrapes.
The dogwood stands just as before
unclad upon the icy moor
with nascent berries undeterred
as though through humble verse and word
like daylight through an unclosed door.
2/23/18
Strength Thru Adversity
Gregory R. Barden
You're funny why you always have been impatient when it came to the simply pleasures of life fighting over phone time finally sending me all those cards birthday valentine days Christmas Easter or just thinking of you the cat putting his paws in the fish tanks finally your release leaving Liza and my ex at home while we drove fast down palm beach blvd with the top down you really thought that was paradise broken pink flamingos dolphins on the walls I'm really sorry about your big Mexican broad stabbing five persons your trying to get her time cut my god ciro I can't even be apart of that therefore leave me out of this I cared for ma you know come on man Mandy jay Townsend Johnson Henry both my abusive ex night crawlers literally fleas stuck on his back hoping I fund flea soap I won't I'm not I am blessed to be free of florida medicaid God has my back I no longer fear her criminal group hospital system breach hacking into thousands of ill persons lives getting their benefits removed hell Medicaid was the reason corruption was able to hack into my life resulting in a class action law suit files against florida medicaid for removing millions of disabled persons illegally my disability has nothing to do with medicaid thank god for morgan and morgan law firm sorry not sorry I hope you got your heart medication cancer treatment God bless you I cannot focus on those arson murders of nine it causes stress anxiety that has triggered severe asthma attacks interrupting my breathing im now trying to get my breathing stablized with oxygen nebulizer I am sure you could care less this is stressful being threatened everyday realized you maxed that traumatic brain injury structured settlement clearly by now you understand i can't support your enterprise corruption organized crime many blessings I am American
Crowned May Queen
As the music flows in my mind and soul in cheer
I dance around on my toes in the sun kissed fragrant fields
of wildflowers and tall emerald green grass yields
With a breath of life that dwells the day is near
For I’m favored to be the prettiest maiden here
All eyes will be on me in my white lace dress
and closed shoes I will astound with my hair in curls
and a crown of blossoms and leaves of green
when I'm honored with the crown of May Queen
a symbol of the stillness of nature surrounds
In which everything revolves around
Early bright is here with a clear blue unclouded sky
My friends and neighbors are all excited to their utmost ability
Townships and villages celebrating springtime fertility
Handsome couples gathering bouquets of flowers from nearby
decorating the whole town with springtime greenery and mystify
I lead the celebration up to the heart of town singing
Old buildings and tables are adorned
with scented blooms that leave you breathless
Populace displays all the elegance of their dress
Dressed in white, carrying garlands of flowers
and beaming children follow giggling and dancing
They place a crown of blossoms on my head,
I say a speech from my soul and set off the festivities,
with dance and overwhelming merriment
Musicians play their musical instruments with talent
with eating, drinking, jubilant music,
and courtly lovers dancing around the Maypole
A feast fit for a King, everyone enjoys
crafts, games, and carousel to console
With a breath of life at the age of sixteen
As the music flows in my mind and soul
I dance around the maypole
Favored for being the prettiest maiden seen
Honored with being crowned May Queen
By: Eve Roper 4/18/2015 Quintella Form
Children Story
"Just living is not enough, said the butterfly fairy...one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower" Hans Christian Anderson
She’s the Butterfly Princess of the magical valley of fairy Kings
I saw her dancing with her sisters in the enchanted forest glen
Her body of sweet nectar being sun kissed again and again
As she fluttered about on tiptoe with her gold gossamer wings
The woodland nymphs played a melody on lyrical harp strings
Her dress of ethereal light all a flutter with a hundred or more
Swooning butterflies who adorn her effervescent flowing caress
Golden curling tendrils resplendent in a sweet flower headdress
The iridescent undulation of swaying hips is their complete adore
Her gentle grace the epitome of butterflies wondrous folklore
They gathered all around her to lift her gown as she flew away
To her wedding that day, a Butterfly Prince was always her ecstasy
And their love was often said to be the kingdoms new destiny
Around his body he wore a gently woven honeysuckle flower lei
Amid his wings he had woven her gift of a lavender sachet
As the trumpets did herald the Princess on soft petals she came
All bowed to the glorious sight of their love soon to be bound
The next time you see butterflies in the garden, turnaround
You may see the fairy Prince and Princess in the sun all aflame
Swirling and twirling about in a butterfly dancing game
written: 10-3-2019
Writing Challenge, October -Butterfly- 2nd place
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode Thank You so much!
A crash of thunder wakened me
as I slept cradled in a tree.
There was fierce growling on the ground.
Something wicked circled around.
I saw the eyes of a beastie.
Its howling was a gruesome sound
Had a dog escaped from a pound
or from quarantine by a vet?
Its canine fangs became a threat
for this creature was a hellhound!
I quaked in fear and broke a sweat.
Deep despair, I began to fret
when deftly he started to climb.
From his drool, it must be mealtime.
Peed on myself; pants soaking wet!
Too young to die; not in my prime,
A ticking clock began to chime.
Can I be saved or tis my fate
to quench its thirst, its hunger sate?
I'm quickly running out of time!
He stares at me as if I'm bait.
My heart races with each pulsate,
hoping this is just a nightmare.
Open my eyes? I do not dare!
His snarling sounds much too irate.
I whispered in fervent prayer,
and slowly, I became aware
of something clawing at the beast,
and on his carcass he would feast.
'Twas the stench of a grizzly bear!
The sun was rising in the East
My brows, deeply furrowed and creased,
pondering the thought that remained,
one I have not yet ascertained...
what should matter the most, not least.
No answer that can be explained,
and no sense of it have I gained
as to why I slept in an oak,
and why my lips have never spoke
of the tree trunk that was bloodstained.
June 15, 2022
Tall Tales 3: Quintilla Fantasy Fiction Contest
Sponsored by Jeff Kyser
These, cacophony that beggars descriptions
Disorder from indecent breed incubating,
Confusion of morals, the imposition of strange culture,
Filthily dressed to undress my mind,
Our teacher teaching theories of writs and wits
These promiscuous pastors parading piety with nudity
Lewd licentious and libidinous species luring laurels with drama,
These traditional priests tutoring the innocent as the skilled orthodox guru
Folly forming and fuming fire on the podium of cerebral
These gangs of immoral breeds hovering over men with enthusiasm
The sick physician administering drugs on the ignorant,
These,
A coup against Coleridge,
Wired Wordsworth,
Barron as Blakes
Shapeless Shakespeare,
With excessive deluxe paint like a red zone hawker,
These fashions clogging the pump of poetic flow
With the garbs of a seductress
Allays my feet to the "gutter-most" pit of whores
These, who feigned folly as fashion forcing Mr Flesh, to a quickie,
Teach me the lyric and lines and morals too
Inspire my curious heart in poetry and NOT the contours of shapeless show
Evoke in me a desire and arouse my intellect and NOT to lust
Induce me with scintillating lyrics and NOT to the nightmare and dreams of a succubus
Tempt my heart to scholastic loyalty and NOT to the apple of Eden
Conjure the parley of mutated minds with words
Come again to the conference in art and rags of skilled minds
I adjure you, be Natural
Trumpeting sounds of elephants
Pleasant rides, tricks, and children’s chants
In a place called Thailandia
The tourists come from Sandia
They visit their uncles and aunts
Ride the bulls, play, touch, watch them paint
Unaware of treatment, restraint
A few people saw the dark side
The brutal industry must hide
You are led into tours quite quaint
Taken away from her mother,
Trained to toil for another
Enslaved as a beast of burden
Sweet baby calf called Lily Len
White as milk, she’s like no other
Len’s father a combat hero
And although she would never know
He, equipped with iron armor
Knee pads, and sounds of drums of war
Strongest was he, true warrior
In colorful costume adorned
For royals to ride she was born
Her spine aches, he is too much weight
Len resigned to this awful fate
Between two worlds she is now torn
Crying for a hopeful sign
Recalls Airvata the divine
He, the legend water child
Len prays to him so beguiled
And in her sleep their souls align
Airvata reaches down with his trunk
To the underworld she’d been sunk
Sucked up and sprays her in a cloud
Awakened she feels safe and proud
Happily sprayed with muddy gunk
Separated at birth, now three
Len is saved, taken to Nuwee
A lovely rainforest in Lanark
Near a river, Phant’s Nature Park
Where she washes, where she roams free
You may not tend to believe me
Perhaps you’ll start to suddenly
Put your logic up on a shelf
Open your mind and let yourself
See things you never dared to see
The year here was 1901
An unknown battle had begun
No news on any TV show
Or Orson on the radio
Records hid, history undone
Bored of the Loch, Nessie came first
From below in the depths, she burst
Icy shards and chill waters flood
And a new taste for Yeti blood
What an abominable thirst
But Yeti was ready for her
Hiding in snow with camo fur
An ambush teamed up with Sasquatch
They tried to take it up a notch
She knew these two were amateur
Nessie had backup too you know
Have you met the Ogopogo?
The hairy duo past their prime
Put their BIG foot in it this time
Until swooped in a flying foe
The Mothman taking up the skies
Could anybody prophesize?
Even he began to pucker
When came the fabled goat-sucker
With Chupacabra laser eyes!
They battled on, these beasts of lore
A great and magic cryptid war!
No end with all sides immortal
Then they fought right through a portal!
One witness left shook to the core
Well that was me, I swear it’s true
After they vanished, no one knew
When they’d come back, or even where
If it had been you standing there,
Then the believer would be you.
June 14, 2022
Tall Tales 3: Quintilla Fantasy Fiction Poetry Contest
Sponsered by: Jeff Kyser
MOAN VOYAGE
I see a great deal of people who are blessed to smile
And say things such as “I’m going on vacation for awhile”
Hell, I find these people vile
Now why would I use such a nasty word such as vile?
Perhaps because, as well, I am revolted by their style
I’ll give one my ragged shoes and let one walk in them for a mile
Oh but they’re so well quaffed and their clothes are fresh and clean
But man, I’ll tell you, they need to see some of the things which I’ve seen
You know, from the other side of the tracks where the grass is Kelly green
“Oh yes," she loudly whispers, "we are going on a cruise”
S**t, alert the g-d damned f*****g news
And I’d like to leave their faces with multi-marks of blacks and blues
So bon voyage you vile and vociferous crowd
And why must saying good bye on a ship be so loud?
Oh, because as they pull away from the dock they all feel so proud
And I know they made a promise and to me took a vow
Yet the universe knows that I ain’t going no place nor no how
Not ever, and certainly not now
So I hope a huge tanker rams into their stately ship’s bow
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee~!
With one hundred and twenty passengers, enough life boats and only eighty eight life preservers, then let these high society slave owners discover what anarchy is all about, and a disturbance similar to the kind I’ve been battling against since 1967(