Long Reignited Poems
Long Reignited Poems. Below are the most popular long Reignited by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reignited poems by poem length and keyword.
I hope you would still remember me as we were,
every time you see pristine
passing pomegranate hues of the horizon.
When clouds smear our unspoken love
in inexplicable figurines,
of those simple moments we
reignited beneath our own twilight,
reliving our dreams in
remaining rosy dialects of romantic recollections,
as I have a confession to make
beneath this cluttering of chaos.
I wasn’t ready to let you nor our late night conversations go,
After all these years, all my heart ever desires,
is for you to see the broken empire
behind these weary eyes.
I have long been a gift of solitude and sorrow,
But as I’ve let you go, my hopes swayed a lilac
feathered goodbye,
Although you’ll never know how a simple hey,
once upon a time, saved my life,
and embellished my universe with pearlescent
moonstones and amethysts.
Yet I still question you, in rustic rhymes you can’t comprehend,
Have you forgotten how to pronounce my name?
is it because your heart doesn’t feel the same?
Have your desires now become tame?
As you walk away, why am I the one to take the blame?
Is our love now lost in history?
Is that why you’ve left me in so much mystery?
In your absence the mind battles against violence.
All is mute in a void of meaningless silence.
Did you forget to love me today?
Is this the price I have to pay?
Just for you to say that you’ll love me
again in the same way, someday.
Here she comes with a smile,
Flaunting her beauty flashing in her smiles,
She may come only once a while to meet me,
Thats enough to reignite the flame of love in me.
The love blossomed just in few meets,
The self in hearts turned into feeling of us,
The flame of love got lighted in our hearts,
Keeps on smoldering even when we are far apart.
Some evenings when I am alone,
Dusk paints the skies in myriads of colors,
Each color, each hue, leaves a mark of our love in the sky,
And the flame of love lights anew the spark within the sky.
And many mornings when you are not around,
Soft dawn unfolds a hush of gold where shadows softly lie.
Each whispered breeze recalls the dreams we wove,
The flickering flame of love gets reignited in our hearts.
I was submerged in
an ocean
of rants,
hiding the sparkles
of my
poetic
planktons.
My meaningless
phrases
that meant
everything,
but
nothing and anything
at the same time.
Yet I found
mermaid melodies
from idyllic waves,
placed
with love
in my heart,
by a
mystical angel
worlds apart,
that felt like home
in so many forms,
when bitter reality
was
crashing
and
thrashing,
my bones with no
mercy or empathy.
Although twin flames
reignited
lost romance,
against every tide of
redolent rhymes
and measured meters,
as couplets destined
to be sweethearts.
In a world
of untold
words
and expressions,
we scribbled
sensual senryu,
and silver sonnets,
along lilac lines
of lavender shadows
where ebony fingers
intertwined to devise,
cryptic potions of
pearlescent personifications,
and
harlequin haiku
as well as
ethereal etherees,
where hourglass nonets
bleed
amethyst alliterations,
forever composing
floral choruses
whilst healing through
free verse
with strawberry musings,
on a sandbank
where islanders
rendered
ravishing runes,
dripping on
chocolate reveries,
about soulmates
that sheltered their
love in
an
oyster
shell.
I.
Eros walked slowly through the forestland,
Near Mount Olympus, in the soft twilight.
By his side, he held his bow in his hand,
As he walked on through the advancing night.
Above the forest, the evening was clear,
As a full moon lit up the mountain’s peak,
An endless number of stars filled the skies.
Through the trees, he saw a wandering deer,
That appeared to be searching for a creek—
He quickly followed its path with his eyes.
II.
Reaching back into his quiver with care,
Eros placed an arrow within his bow.
He quietly raised the bow in the air,
Then he slowly crouched his body down low.
He watched the deer at the creek quench its thirst,
As he swiftly trailed it through the thick brush—
Suddenly, there came a beautiful sound.
The music startled both of them at first,
Then Eros and the deer left in a rush—
The arrow fell from his bow to the ground.
III.
As they both followed the sound of the lyre,
They then found themselves now coming nearer
To a woman on a rock near a fire—
Her sound and her beauty became clearer.
The deer slowed down from the pace which it ran,
And shook the loose leaves away from its fur—
Erato had brought an end to the hunt.
Her playing always charmed both beast and man—
The deer calmly listened from behind her,
And Eros stood enamored from the front.
IV.
They listened together, as she played on,
Wearing myrtle and roses in her crown.
Further into her presence, they were drawn—
Surrendering, Eros placed his bow down.
In the moonlight, Erato’s tunic flowed,
Appearing light blue within the green trees,
And her golden lyre began to glisten.
The fading embers of her campfire glowed,
And remained burning in the gentle breeze—
Eros stood and continued to listen.
V.
Overhead, the moon hid behind a cloud,
The fire was soon extinguished in the dark.
Her playing became increasingly loud,
And the fire reignited with a spark.
The playing then soon silenced in the night—
Her precious lyre upon the rock she placed,
And handed Eros a golden arrow.
He then watched the deer leave in the firelight—
Being thankful, for their presence it graced,
And for the sounds from the clearings narrow.
© 2023
As the final glimpse
of the sun leads into
an everlasting spectacle
of twinkling dreams,
peeking through
turmeric traces
of an amber aftermath,
I listen to the
nesting nightingales
croon nostalgic lullabies,
and search for a
celestial ray
that would illustrate,
the beginning
of
butterflies
within
my glass heart.
When twilight is
just a
mere mirage
in the distance of
my destitute mind,
and tune
of your
laughter
reverberates
in rhapsodic refrain;
a raspy rhythm
ringing
through
rustic breeze,
whilst the
whistling
wind waves
to the
dandelions
dancing
to your
delicate drumbeats,
scintillating stars
fall upon
our silhouettes,
scattering pieces of
who I once
used to be-
within pulsating
flesh and bones,
before I felt the
warmth of your
cosmic whispers.
Now initials of
your amethyst
song is the
penultimate prefix
to my path
of
healing,
where
sentimental sighs
between us,
unveil
wordless
smiles electrifying
a classical crescendo;
awaiting beneath
instrumental wings.
I count the
flickering jewels,
splattered across
nocturnal
night-skies,
questioning if this
is
another
start
of a
weary winter?
or is this just
a seasonal distraction,
intoxicating my
procrastinating pen,
or is your voice a
heaven-sent elixir,
to soothe the satanic
seas evaporating
black salt-
drizzling toxic rain,
upon my
porcelain choir,
synchronizing
a symphony
of soulmates destined
to
reunite and rewrite
a
roseate rendezvous.
Maybe,
fate reignited
to align
the emerald
glow between
you and I,
Maybe, I’ve long
been a wanderer,
on a quest to reach
the rainbow
swirls
above your
musky garden,
where background
music is
the poetry woven
from your
cryptic ink.
You’ll always remain
the
last maestro
in my carnival
of chaos,
amidst the loudness
of screeching demons
chattering within every
darkest sheet of
dreary December.
And once again this fire of divide has reignited
Un-nerving the majority who just want to be
So here we stand, but now
Time has come to leave the past in the past and the
Reality is we should just let it be, never forget and let the
Answer lie in the future, so let`s drive forward and only
Look back to recall; and not to dwell, for
If we all stand as one and celebrate this great lands
Achievements that was mostly built against the odds, the
Diggers who fought and died for this great land
And let’s not forget our culture and this bonza lifestyle
Yes we do understand your plight, but this land has given us so much more
Bona fide baroque melodies resonated concert halls in Italy
Reigning Western Europe with elan more than a century
Until new composers innovated into avant-garde music
As ennui artists soon after wrote romantic modern beats.
Cacophony of sounds emerged after advent of modernity
As talent won carte-blanche to write popular harmonies.
Feeling of deja vu echoed sounds in modern-day music halls
When baroque compositions reignited latent fond-memories.
Dilettante musicians did not succeed except as an anomaly
For the musical world crowns only the best of its creativity.
January 18, 2018
Ten words, ten lines contest by Silent One
7/24/20
"Lopsided"
Folks being simple minded
So blinded
And staying one sided
Meanwhile, life and death coincided
Not every wrong was righted
I guided
Pathways were lighted
And a helping hand was provided
But still many remained divided
Some were frightened
Others caused violence
As the sky brightened
For once it was quiet, there was the sound of silence
People in their own world, and on their own island
Fires dying out or getting reignited
Such is life, the scales often lopsided
Disaster at times, when objects or lifeforms collided
Some emotionless, others quick to anger or be delighted
Some ready to tell the world, others would rather keep it private
They're either compliant
Or defiant
Big brother and other giants
Being tyrants
Continual protests and riots
Overhead a black cloud resided
Being depressed, not once did I like it
I had to fight this
Never wanted to be reliant
On medication to hide it
Much more enlightened
My senses heightened
It's either in or out of alignment
An ever-changing climate
Bull.... was always uninvited
Had to make sure it quickly subsided
She wanted a ring and I wanted a watch with diamonds
In a world so vibrant
Far too many looking to pick a fight with
Just about anybody because they're biased
Hit them with Poseidon's trident
Or make them walk the plank, like a pirate
Light-beam captives dream,
Two betrothed angels with rainbows in flight
Amidst the heavenly crossroads that gleam
For earthly lovers who once delighted
Long before their hearts were blighted
With straying affections traveling in beams
The two would forever be united
In travel where the speed of light now reigns
Their essence flows in tidal creams
Their love will grow forever requited
He has his own, ancient family bloodstream
That flows onward with tearful flames in flight
With them she’s never accommodated
Rather, abruptly whisked away in airstreams
Up into the oceans that predated
Pipedreams on the crossroads, brightly gleaming
Upon lovers’ beds, they’ll be an eternal team
Of nascent ideas out-dated
Their love for eternal jet beams and streams
Their white flight into night, once delighted
No need to think of Chagall’s past art themes
When the past cannot be reignited
And only lovers fly as particle beams
Forgiving those who cruelly blighted
Their union forever ignited
Dream a little dream – sing a song of authenticity
Remember yesterday, though it’s long gone
Light a heart with love and peace, joy
From the hopes, belief in what will be
When time has smiled down beautiful things
Across a life, through a heart – into a beautiful song
Dream a little dream – sing of kindness that believes
In the presence of a miracle, a wonder that sees
Through the doubts and darkness, into the breathtaking,
Where everything in life brings together the delight,
The inspiring and the magnificent, all the bliss that comes
Alive from knowing that there will come a time…
When the love that abides inside is reignited, invited
To bring someone other than the self, the selfish self –
A piece of the gladness, the excitement and elation, the
Serenity and sincerity, the feelings that bleed through
Heartbreak and dissolve all the anxiety so that every dream
Comes to believe, to achieve, to see – through the reservations
Into the spirit where there is a sense of assurance, a reality
A knowing that everything in life comes together to provide…
The dreamer with hope, inspiration and confidence
Because there is such a thing as love, there is a promise
That dreams come true – dreams can be sure to enhance
Realities when someone takes away the shadows of doubt
And feeds the heart with faith and prayers, belief
That, though the dream is so rare, the heart is mighty,
The soul will prevail so when you dream a little dream…
That dream will be sure to come to maturity, ripening into
The moment when you’ll see the dream of the past
Become the truth of the present and the certainty of what is waiting…
So dream a little dream, believe and someday you will sing authenticity