Long Rays Poems
Long Rays Poems. Below are the most popular long Rays by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rays poems by poem length and keyword.
Sledges slide on slippery snow.
In snow sun rays dazzle and glow
Santa Claus glad on reindeer- ride
In slippery snow sledges slide.
Snowfall occurs in winter-rain
Snow caps on sky-kissing Mountain
Joyous children play with snowball
In winter-rain occurs snowfall.
Snowflakes-snowdrops: Winter glory
Snowy weather is winter’s story.
Green peas and spinach are winter crops
Winter glory: Snowflakes-snowdrops
Winter snow white in splendid show
Chilled windy breeze feels free to flow.
Also, take care against frost bite.
Splendid winter snow silver white .
Baudrillardian Echo
I awoke this morning with a profound vision of a painting.
A sort of Baroque ensemble of consequence, still lingering.
I've put it to pen, since it's quicker than painting.
The contortion of life via exploitation, from sacred to the profane.
Inside the frame:
Hills roll from back to foreground.
Three groups in the fore.
First from left also starts the hand of time.
Here some people admire the warmth of the sun, kissed by the rays.
Peaceful, unadultered, not yet restrained.
Drawn across the scene, and years have unravelled between them and these, where others sip wine.
Enrolled in playful acts of elation.
Seeing the reward natures vines of harvest provide them.
No longer new.
Able to take advantage of balmy days.
That romance of the past becomes a backdrop to the history of today.
In the lowest right of the work, barely within the frame.
A darkened coloration of auburn, perhaps a trees shade.
A wizened few smoke-rounded, toke in orchestration.
Contriving and prioritizing alternative ways.
There but not present.
Daydreaming our dreams of past days away:
''To live most natural was to imbibe from the elements of nature.
To desire was to co-opt, to milk, to press grapes with others.
But to groom, to groom the weeds of the idle...'' Think industry men.
Striving to lay ownership of all in front of them.
Outside of the frame is the simulacra.
The fought rights of the worker became frayed.
We peddle our fortunes, distracted with nonsense.
Killing ourselves to capture something.
All of the while, running away.
Business as usual, each to their own.
Ignoring the troubles that lead us astray.
Now, we metamorphose love into self-loathing.
We synthesize the serotonin.
The narrow space between us and the painting, no longer here; nor yet there, was when we had it best.
Was that the end?
sun
rays
mermaid
skin
below
glassy
river,
moss~
q f i n d e b
u b
i e
v e r s w
h
‘n t
a
illusku
3/23/26
(Dedication: To all readers and friends and
the PoetrySoup community who find delight
especially in my Alliteration poems. Thank
You for your support.)
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Rich reason rhymes
Enter each etch
Affluence aligns
Play plunders patch
Real roaming raves
Endow embrace
Applause amaze
Prime precious pace
Reach respects raid
Echo each end
Apply apt aide
Primal poise pens
Rhymes reel relent
Embark embloc
Answer attends
Poise pens prologue
Ride rivers real
Expect endow
Assign assail
Practice prompts plough
Retrace rich rays
Endings express
Appease allay
Poignant progress
Roaming real roads
Effort explodes
Applause attains
Pleasure pines plain
Riddles reap rust
Enlight each ease
Affect apt ask
Prime profound peace
Rich rays reveal
Each end enjoins
Appease appeal
Peace provides point
Leon Enriquez
22 May 2014
Lijiang, China
Yunnan Province
A mind of plane mirrors reflects rays of goodness.
It is weightless and indeed stainless,
in it right has a huge castle decorated in flowers of deeds,
roofed in kindness and painted in honesty.
Corruption knows it’s a waste of time
when it comes with its convincing lips and encroaching limbs.
Selfishness eavesdrops on all activities
to plan a way and snatch any opportunity.
Then the fall occurs as hands get dirty.
A heavy load is now placed on the inside,
guilt building a desolate and unkempt street
and its lash felt each time its victim’s name is mentioned.
All these run the batteries of conscience,
making wrong have a flamboyant exhibition.
Not to worry, trouble mind!
This is just a cleanable stain on the wall
of which it hasn’t eaten any solid structure yet.
A true confession and an honest repentance,
stimulated by a bitter drive coming intrinsic,
makes everything look new once again,
confirming the nature of being human
but not any flaw from a good conscience.
"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life. The word is love." Sophocles, Greek Poet
In a garden of whispering twilight
Silent love story swiftly sprouts and grows
The lilies sway with secrets each dark night
Their fragrance drifts in the moonlight and flows
The daisies tell of innocence in dreams
Where the sun's golden fingers cast forth rays
Those shy violets lie next to a stream
Beneath the wispy, weeping willow's ways
Rich, regal orchids in bold colors bright
Perfumed jasmine lingering like a sigh
Recites verses of passion day 'til night
Singing love's endurance under the sky
Wander through this garden, let your heart stray
Where poetry of flowers bloom each day
“I am the Moon and live way up high
In the night sky
I live among the brightest of stars
In my galaxy, also lives Mars,
Infinite is my neighborhood,
I would like to smile if I could,
But my persona is to look sad,
It makes me ever so mad.
Lovers lie on the beach sand at night,
Their love etched in the sand in sight,
But others, prefer frying,
Under your rays, blazing
Showing off their human tans,
Oh you darnn Sun, you do have fans,
But a criminal, causing chaos, so hot,
As in devil, certainly not
So much fun,
They prefer me any day,
To you red hot Sun!”
Frustrated the Sun replies,
“I come out every day,
I sustain all vegetation growth,
Warm humans from the outside in,
And the inside out,
Even visit freezing Norway.”
Patiently the Moon listens.
“Oh what do you in any case know,
I dear Sun, provide light
In the night,
And light up dark paths with a glow,”
The Moon then continued.
“And people like to wish when I’m waxing,
Men and women, girls and boys, worldwide,
All too soon
Declaring their love
Giving poets a chance to translate this
Love into words, all around planet Earth,
Across its length and girth.”
“You are such an egotist.”
The Sun sarcastically said,
“Without me, Earth would be dead,
Humans would freeze,
With a rapid ease”,
“i give you that”, replied the Moon,
“You are rather cool!”
“But you’re a romantic fool”,
Exploded the Sun,
“I’m indispensable
To humankind,”
Our romantic Moon had to have
The last word,
"I could eclipse you, but
Maybe you’re right,
I admit in a debate. You score,
You are rather bright,
But I have made history,
Man rocketed to my land,
And held a handful of sand,
Humans landed on me the Moon,
And planted the American flag,
Now I know you feel I do brag,
But I am so proud
Without any shadow of doubt.
Enough now, so let’s call a truce,
And say its deuce, your advantage,
We are both needed,
And respectfully heeded.”
12 BROTHERS BEARING GIFTS
A Mother weeps, her child is born,
A Father poor sits all forlorn,
The wind howls through their shelter rough,
The wood for their fire is not enough.
And though no gifts can they bestow,
Of riches and of jewels that glow,
12 brothers bearing gifts of joy,
Arrive for the poverty stricken little boy.
The first comes, gliding down the panes,
So fresh, so quiet to fill the lanes,
The tiny babe’s cheeks are pink, and bright,
The air is cold, and all is so white.
The next seeps through the crack in the door,
And fills the hut in a might roar,
The little boy giggles, he thinks it’s fun,
His folks light the fire their day’s work done.
The third brings winds that cloud the sky,
And all around migrant birds begin to fly,
And the fourth heralds the April showers
Preparing for May and Spring-time flowers.
And with June days, the Summer starts,
Cold, rain and snow now all departs,
The sun is smiling, its rays spread about
Children playing happy to be out!
October brings Autumn, which in it’s height,
Is out in the country a magnificent sight,
The wool is woven, the crops are in store,
When will Winter, come knocking at the door?
The 10th makes the heavens open wide,
So all the animals scurry to hide,
Leaving behind a child full of thought,
That the richest of parents couldn’t have bought.
And the next leaves the trees looking so bare,
But the child doesn’t worry or give it a care,
For the woods look so pretty in their Winter glory,
And the wind whistles gently whispering its story.
And now that Christmas is almost due,
All poverty is forgotten, it’s the parents cue,
So out, come small savings in bright colored coffers,
To celebrate the goodwill that this brother offers.
THIS IS A RE-POST FROM 2018
He was climbing mountains steep
And swimming waters deep
Chasing four winds in the bottomless
Canyons in the depth of the night
He was searching for meaning
Of everyday strenuous life
He was flying on the back
Of a bald headed eagle
Looking for the meaning
That he was hoping to find
In the bright noon sunlight
Or the depth of the nigh
He was lifting rocks in the fields
And puling heavy waves
Of the raging stormy ocean
Putting the world in motion
Of the eternal search
For the elusive meaning
That was escaping his touch
And never allowed to be caught
Hiding behind the corner
Of an old cafe in the morning
In slowly and lazy waking up Paris
When sun rays reached the window
And kissed his old wrinkled face
Mockingly winking at him
And luring him one last time to try
Just the moment before he died
Oh, birds of sunset
sing me a duet
and just let me drift
for sundown is swift . . .
My day has been twined with many a forest way,
it all began with a bright sun high and ablaze;
yes, so delightful was the deep forest maze,
now soft are the sun rays.
Oh, birds of sunset
sing me a duet
and just let me drift
for sundown is swift . . .
So beautiful is the warmth of a sun fading,
such joy, I found myself in a cool stream wading;
and charming the melodies of birds in the shading,
I rest in a vast meadow, my hair braiding.
Oh, birds of sunset
sing me a duet
and just let me drift
for sundown is swift . . .
Soon, I lay myself down in a carpet of green,
the sun is falling and what a breathtaking scene;
I fall asleep bathed in a golden sun serene;
to the lullaby of a hundred birds unseen.
Oh, birds of sunset
sing me a duet
and just let me drift
for sundown is swift . . .
and just let me drift
for sundown is swift . . . .
_________________________________
March 20, 2018
Poetry/Lyric/Lullaby
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1197-809-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to FGI Blog Series 1
Brian Strand
Podium Place 1