Long Red Poems
Long Red Poems. Below are the most popular long Red by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Red poems by poem length and keyword.
Words, like freed dandelions, have blown away,
Who knows where each one has gone?
These scribbled fragments lie scattered in the corners,
And no one knows what became of them
when a heart fell silent,
and breath was cut off.
Yes—poetry… this eternal balm—
for years it could soothe no pain.
What happened, then,
that the spring of love began flowing again
from within these wounds?
The blood-red poppies of my notebook
have found life again
when two women
—she I was, and she I have become—
take each other’s hand.
They stitch the words together for you,
riding every drifting dandelion-seed
toward you…
Surveying
northern autumn afternoon
Pitcherelli, ex-marine, body-builder,
Lussier, long-haired father of three dark-skinned children
and myself, sharp-edged loner, ex-lover of a fair share of women
are belly-laughing in the dying sun. Clouds.
The crew, in timber.
Laughing
over recent visits to marvelous cities where
we could not keep ourselves from touching the terminal buds
of numerous exotic trees
and attracting ridicule of stylish girls and tame boyfriends.
Pitcherelli before the Albany bus station
shaking hands with a red pine planted thirty years ago.
Lussier, one hand in a child's hand and the other
feeling scabrous bark of urban woody plants.
Myself among partially shaved heads and leathery aromatic jackets
getting close to the hairy bud of an unidentified poplar or sycamore.
People
laughed, but we laughed best
back on our mountain
under the blackening weather.
Prompt: ~ A torn canvas is two paintings*
A torn canvas is two paintings
Once upon a time, my childhood was built on fairy tales,
Of princesses and princes who never failed.
I believed every story ended with,
_"They lived happily ever after."_
But when I met you, my beloved,
The canvas of my life split in two.
_Painting One: The Golden Light_
You came like a sunbeam in the coldest winter,
Warm, healing my broken soul and heart.
I thought angels had spilled starlight into my dark.
Spring walked beside me. Joy followed my steps.
Your smile, your words, your phoenix eyes held me
Like a prince lifted from the pages of a storybook.
Hidden secrets burst from velvet clouds,
And I learned some love stories are not bound by time.
They do not need a happy ending to be holy.
_Painting Two: The Red River_
Then one day I saw black cloth tied on your arm —
A vow, a war fought for me.
Like every fairy tale, there was a villain in the story.
You fought... and I watched the red river run from your body.
You died.
And the canvas tore right down the middle.
The first painting kept smiling.
The second painting started bleeding.
They sent me to white-walled rooms,
But my window showed only the same sky we shared.
I went mad with grief. The world called it illness.
I called it loyalty.
One day I will die too,
And I will go to your grave with flowers in my hands
And madness in my eyes.
There, on cold stone, we will finally live
_"Happily ever after"_ —
Not in a kingdom,
But in heaven, where villains cannot reach.
A torn canvas is two paintings:
One where love begins,
One where love refuses to end.
The footprints of an ant
as it trudges in the dust
The fluttering of leaves
stirred by a windy gust
A stratus cloud
silhouettes against the sky
There's a flock of coral red head brolgas
in casual formation as they fly
The stunning streak of rays
as the sunlight breaks the dawn
Signals that another magic day
once again has just been born
The billowing of large clouds
suggests an imminent storm
The arching of a rainbow
a constant structured coloured form
Ripples on the water
of a tiny bubbling stream
All these enchanting patterns of nature
mesmerised, time to rest, just daydream
"Alpha Mnemonic"
Word
Image
without the image
no word
Language
a disease
communicable
by mouth
Alpha from brain
Omega passed
on her tongue
to yours
Ancient codex
genetically kissed
dispersed with
music intonation
gutteral
romantic
cerebral
never rehearsed
language
a virus formed
Mnemonic
from where exactly,
Within?
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
from somewhere
other birthed
codex ancient
Alpha alien
genetic
hive driven
we are observed
writhing in our smalls
amphibian brained
we are still
loud embryos
clashing and clinging
unjust
we are
just learning exotic
movements
within our
blue pitri plate
circular in motion
we are agitated
not calm, chasing long versed
pre-recorded, re-rehearsed tales
a breath blown over us
language divides us
in love and belief
a disease
we are
we think
we speak
we spread
our languages
communicable
by eyes that
envision dreams
of others within
we are not knowing
with clandestined
futures and
over-ripe mouths
to succour
we simulate
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
sensual
cold
science
hot and feverish
we lie
in bed
with irreverent
romantic fate
Omega
ohm resistant
high voltage
across the conductor
Always equal
Metaphors of unity
become
the Sequel
Blissfully ignorant
Ripe Red currents
juiced up and
Blue buries itself
warm palmed
on a soft beating breast
Ideology and
Romance
arrive
late
Memory
lost in the
Alpha
Mnemonic
Stuck in
the warm
and sticky
we grow cold
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Language is a Virus" / Laurie Anderson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIOnODxUTZQ
Bleeding the power of a savage redcoat
Breaking the bones of weak allies.
I had hurt her for your love
As much as you loved to hurt.
By biting the face who cherished your gaze
By bleeding the blood who pumped your toxins
By singing the songs of our cries
Ripping our stem from the ground
Plucking the tiny pedals
With your dirty hands
That set our world into ablaze.
But I still rested my fate into those rusted hooks.
I remember a love
That broke my touch with fantasy.
Never have I mended it’s cracks
So I stand behind yellow lines
Just above the tracks.
You handed me a rose
But our love wasn’t any special
Just a mutual desire
A dispensable choir
and conversations with fire.
Still, I was frightened by it
The love I almost shared even more.
Poison by caution
As I cautioned with poison
To put more trust in my lust.
Craved your used tool
Of the famous rusted thrust.
But never did I want to accept it
Even with a little trust.
I do not write with resent
Nor of a claim to our time
But only a tribute to a memory you will once forget.
Once a friend, an enemy, a lover
Now a familiar distant stranger.
I dreamt you were more gentle on my foolish soul
Then maybe I'd fix the broken gap
That still oozes blood and sap
From my sorrow and spirted soul.
Rose colored glasses cover my eyes
Everything that glitters is not gold
I prefer the dark despite the sunlight
Bad times uncover the hidden soul
It’s easy to dance when times are good
When belly full and happiness is shared
But when time is heavy hard as wood
True nature reveals a soul who is there
Can you see the forest for the trees
Is the bigger blue picture in your view
Wind blows dilemma in burgundy breeze
Will you stand or run how will you choose
Hesitate or are you quick to red react
Are you boisterous and bold despite
Problematic times do you gather facts
To use create a solution that unites
Clarity through static of possibilities
Are you the pebble tossed in pond
Creating waves of change in reality
As certain winged words you use to bond
You are as clever as birds of feather
Wasting not your time in fuchsia flight
Standing on principle as tough as leather
Revealing gold soul and anointed life
The red necktie
He woke on the sofa, fully dressed
vaguely remembered an argument with a woman
He took a shower, made coffee
turned on the radio that told of a woman strangled
by a red necktie.
He paled under his fake tan; his tie was red, lost in
a brawl in a bar, did he? No, he was a friendly sort
he liked to think of himself, surely not…!
What to do now? Call the police and confess
To a crime, he could not remember having committed?
He looked out of the window into an empty street
Sunday morning, people were still sleeping
or perhaps the street had been cleared so that they could
arrest him without using force?
Now, he needed a drink, opened the drink cabinet
and there was his tie knotted on the solid neck
of whisky bottle
Bravely fought in experiment
curious pain brings forth a scent
it smells red like pain
it feels right as rain
so another and another flood the gates
is it that face that you hate?
sudden like a snap
resonates another smack
more force makes curiousity
an immovable object with such verocity
a little less is never enough
you cant even say you have it rough
so when it gets old and white is red
then dont worry your little head
no bruise will call
on your assistance against this wall
so will you reach for the slice
the scraping vice
that rends flesh like fish in sea
glittering and shimmering among your plea
oh may this end but no
you want it so
you do dont you though
this isnt sorrow
its pain that starts the wheels
no matter how your voice squeals
drowned out in the fog
of your mind
Beauty is your name red apple just for me Your fruity and lovely taste lasts in my mouth It's my duty to enjoy and chew you well My best friend Judy and I will share you Your skin of red ruby is pretty for all to see
Date Written: 11/3/2021
3 Place
Something Beautiful 5 line rhyme
Contest Judged: 11/11/2021 Sponsored by: charles messina