Long Reciprocates Poems
Long Reciprocates Poems. Below are the most popular long Reciprocates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reciprocates poems by poem length and keyword.
She would persevere in winter frost on moonless nights
She would not be remain naked like a bare autumn tree
She is strong not to fall apart like petals strewn about
On moonless nights, she lets her tears fall in raindrops
Longing to become one with him, she is ecstatic with joy.
The mermaid opens up all depths of soul in his wait
The rising sea tide shimmers like sliver in moonlight
Promising to reveal his arrival to her any moment
She would charm him with her moonlit beauty afresh
Her rosy lips eagerly await a kiss of love from beloved.
She seeks for the moon to merge with her beating heart
His love has power to make her an angel on moonlit nights
They share secrets known to fishes, birds or notes of music
A moonlit night reciprocates her love in all its abundance
She is filled with infinite energy and unbounded joy.
Moonlight lets the mermaid glow with its softness
She drapes the moonlight and waltzes mad in white clouds
She inhales his love as fragrance of rose, in appreciation
And frames him deep in her soul, like flame of her eye
They swing across moonlit paths, hand in hand, till the dawn.
Rakhi to my brother
No distances can part
no bearing can breach ...
As tender strings of rakhi
I tie on my brother's wrist,
Send heartwarming wishes
to Illuminate those paths,
that we traversed together
Holding each other's hands.
He reciprocates with a gift
my fav he has always known,
Vows to stand by
In all thick and thin,
His pat on my back
and caress on head hearten,
Many nostalgic memoirs
recalled to brighten.
You my brother
I can always count on,
and lean on ...
Words fail me.
Those wonderful years
throughout my life,
spent in fun and pun,
Many blissful moments
some tears shed,
Laughter and scoldings,
Tiring little games
Homework giggles,
lovely vacations together.
Cute hard chases
around in the courtyard,
Climbs of mulberry
amidst beehives,
Winning brought cheers
while losing gave sigh,
Etched in souls
are memories so sweet.
You my brother
Rise and shine,
Wish be the best ...
bubbling as always,
Sparkle forevermore.
Written August 7, 2017
For my dear brother Vasu
colour
attracts a
bee here and there-
but fragrance stops it in
its tracks
over
the stubble
carrion crows-
the game-keeper heads home
for tea
August
shaded gold
becomes monsoon-
berries rot beneath the
bramble.
a drop
of water
upon the ground-
forever lost,without
a sound
inspired by 2 sam 14:14
Kisses
and cuddles
with whispered sounds-
love reciprocates
our need.
sunlight
on the tiles
dusted with snow-
rivulets overflow
the butt
dank fog
envelops
a bonfire night-
the party becomes a
damp squib
a thick
mist blankets
the winter dawn-
necklaced jewels bedeck
the hedge
a blue
plume curls from
the damp ashes-
yesterday's visions still
haunt me
the first
heavy frost
whitens the lawn-
overnight fall becomes
winter
muffled
bells echo
across the square-
sepia memories
surface
humid
canopy
of sultry days-
torrid tempers simmer
inside
A cinqku is an 'English language 'version of a tanka with 17 syllables 2;3;4;6;2
no title and last two(or three) lines being a surprise/comment on the first three
lines ie as in he American Cinquain of Adelaide Crapsey.Cinqku was created by American poet Denis Garrison
A poem is a mirror.
A ?o??i?.
A yes-I-can with crayons the color of Tachyons,
rushing out of whirl’ds where past-meets-future,
reaching for-words…
yet going back-words for some more.
It makes reflections, like a ripple,
but you’re at zero-point too,
where the puddle tessellates to a past in the future you,
and you reflect it back-words and for-words
’til it reverberates…
right there.
Now.
Here.
Like an invertendo-innuendo that’s an in-your-face…
?o??i?.
And this mirror-Kah… it rackles with the spirit of the times.
This mirror… reciprocates.
And everything recorded is written everywhere for anyone to see—
a hit-list for the insurgents,
a collapse scenario for the empire,
as the top one-percent feed the roots of alien, alternative… cycles.
But listen.
‘I see you, you see me’
and maybe together we’re spied-upon in an irony
of what it’s like not to be truly free.
So we carry on.
In a more human innuendo,
a more momento-mori story,
mirroring each other… more merrily.
Another cycle of the Sun,
rollin’ ’round the earth ‘yer on,
then in cycles turned your way,
yes, another day…
where cycles in the Sun are glimmerings on the Sea,
making many reflections,
and sympathetic tessellations vibrate in our oceanic-brain,
where the orbits perigee,
where we learn the lessons of leaving behind
and faltering forward,
where we would-if-I-could be the king who would be a man,
riding these cycles of the Sun by the Sea,
going on this way…
over and over…
mirrorly.
So thank-you, Poets.
For the many reflections.
For the big-hearted yawp of freedom to be who you want to be.
Thank you for sharing your wrought-out ramblings
where my meaning-making takes a rest
and instead, with great exaltation, I surrender
to how you all ‘fess-up and down and around
and always… with a wry wit in it.
It’s bright.
It echoes the numinous in-us.
The euphoric-eunoia.
The bright language of connecting,
an authentic friending in a lightning look…
in intertextual-fugues,
invertendo-innuendos,
or mirrorly… by-the-book.
So is that it then?
This eunoia-euphoria…
this urge-to-merge?
Is that it?
Expressed in longing waves,
swelling in each other as sister and brother?
Is that it?
When you’ve engaged both sides of the brain…
the scholar and the minstrel…
is that the euphoria we’re after?
Next time I'm going to be honest
About my past.
I don't want a hit it & quit it
I want something that's gonna last.
Next time I'm taking charge
Not trying to hesitate
I'm not going to procrastinate.
I'm going to give her my all
I just hope she reciprocates.
Next time I'm going
To put my love on display.
I'm going to insist that we make time for
God & church
& each night before bed we pray.
Next time they'll be so much passion
Hugging, kissing & more.
They'll be no doubt in her mind
It's her I adore.
Next time will be a new day
I've learned from my past mistakes.
I can't put myself through
Anymore of these heartbreaks.
Next time I will be a better man
I'll give her all of me.
She'll have no doubts of my intentions
My heart will be there for her to see.
Next time if I need her
I won't be afraid to speak.
I'll be bold about what I want
I will never again be meek.
Next time
Next time
Next time
Too bad I didn't do these things Last Time.
She cast a wistful look
At the side table
As she lay on her bed weak, old and infirm
Her two children with cherubic smiles
Look back at her from the frame
She reciprocates- a weak smile
“Remember, I would say
‘You are my angels’,”
She whispers to them
Unlikely they would hear
Both now successfully settled
In their lives
Their occasional phone calls
The slender connection
Between her ‘nostalgic’ past
And ‘abandoned’ present
‘You still are my angels’
She again whispers
But two treacherous tears
Roll down her shriveled, hollowed cheeks
While she squeezes shut her dull, moist eyes
Meanwhile her delicate frame
Continues to wait for the ‘real’ angels
To take her away.
Life
Miracle of birth enshrines an ethereal event
Whether in poverty or affluent wealth.
While some are blessed with enviable health,
Some get saddened by persistent illness.
Life distressed by destitute and hunger
Submersed under depths of gruesome sorrow,
Eminently thrives to awaken from slumber
To reach a dawn of brighter tomorrow.
Every action of goodwill inspires someone
To equal reaction of similar intentions,
Every joy of receiving swiftly reciprocates
Into act of giving that admirably reverberates.
Abundance of wealth often returns to charity,
Hope inevitably rises from ashes of poverty,
Happiness visits but never stays forever,
Every winner someday faces a losing endeavor.
Stepping outside onto avenues of strife
Life is overwhelmed by grief that magnifies,
As meager existence of restless feelings
Questions the virtues of opulent dwellings.
Money and power may satisfy for a while
But upon introspection they don't suffice.
Life worthwhile thrives with family and friends
For material things don't matter in the end.
December 2, 2017
Placed 2nd: Strand select X contest by Brian Strand
1. For many years, I have longed for the opportunity to be in this position, to have a person in my life who sees me as a hero and reciprocates my feelings. You have been my dream, my desire, and now that you are here, I love you more each day. You are the ultimate dream and the greatest blessing I have ever wished for. The fact that I have the privilege of having both of you in my life feels like a double blessing from God. While I cannot predict where life will lead us, I am committed to doing everything in my power to ensure you both have the best life possible. I express my gratitude to God every day and night for you, and I am thankful to your mother for the gift of having you both. You are truly remarkable, and I could not ask for a more precious gift than you two. Thank you for being part of my life, for carrying my last name, and for loving and looking up to me. I am grateful to God for bringing you into my life, and I love you both dearly.
Sea Glass
From Mother Nature’s jewel box
She gives us and
She reciprocates …
Over the sands of time She forms and fashions troves of jewels
Refuse, shards of glass litter discarded and strewn
Sanded and polished by briny waves magically glazed frosty verglas
Trading trash and abuse with gifts
Sea glass gems washed ashore
Stones resembling emeralds, amethyst, ruby’s,
turquoise crystals displayed on the soft carpeted shores
Wishes to have seen this newfangled beauty
She once gifted us exquisitely
A rare sight as less litter evinces Her gifts scarce
I wonder was She by us coerced?
Ample reasons for us to quit littering
if not, there are more
It’s, for me, not nature’s just one aspect or the other;
But, each creature of nature is greater than the other.
An ant moving unnoticed under any leaf or flower,
Rolling food, even under feet of animals much heavier;
An earthworm incessantly tilling anyone’s land,
And unassumingly lending farmers its helping hand;
The bee hummingbird that drinks nectar from flowers,
And by way of pollination, its gratefulness reciprocates;
Beavers that in their masterly way reducing soil erosions,
And said to be improving the quality of water streams;
Llamas while making easy the mountaineers’ transportations,
Offer their hide and wool as fabrics, crafts, ropes, and rugs;
Rats that cooperate with human beings as regular rodents,
Though not considering themselves as contributing agents;
Squirrels that consistently shape plant compositions,
And impulsively burry seeds and enable plantations;
Crows the commonest of all scavenger birds in India,
Together with vulture, eagle, hawk, kite, and jackdaw;
Butterflies or dragonflies, or beetles or ladybirds,
Moths or bugs or bumblebees or leaf miner or spiders;
Animals domesticated or in the wild that might hit and kill
Who’s great, who’s small, in the mysterious life-cycle?
7th May 2021
ALL YOURS (May 9) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand