Long Reprise Poems
Long Reprise Poems. Below are the most popular long Reprise by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reprise poems by poem length and keyword.
We dream of rain
In the setting sun
in the season of one.
A wildest west and a withered crest,
the coat of arms.
A falcon and crown rest.
Of House and family of dark means,
cruel needs
We dream of empire and the violent gun.
In the distance of sands, eternal,
lands of the setting sun.
We dream of perpetual electric cars,
In dark corners and seedy neon lit bars
The influence of dark deeds,
infernal tower.
Twins war for control,
the influence of power.
We dream of rain and desolations planes.
A tyrannical son,
the deserted lands of dreams.
In a White House on a dark boulevard.
We see the war for the soul,
the drug if ruining.
We dream of the immaculate one,
of the cleaning rain an angel of infinite grace.
We dream of rain.
In an sultry season, the season of None.
The white quest, the reason for the gun.
Heavy it is hung.
The crown of power, the power of one.
We dream of rain in a wasted land,
we plead for the second coming ,
we fear the heavy hand the burden of the gun.
Kill the king as the lovers part,
rage the wicked and heavens depart.
A faith of woman’s lace, the white dress.
In the setting sun in the dry season of None.
A wild west, withered crest,
A falcon and crown rest.
Of House of dark means, cruel deeds
We dream of global empire,
a violent haloed sun
In the distance of eternal,
Lawless lands, rule of the gun
We dream of perpetual electric cars,
In dark corners and seedy neon lit bars.
We dream of rains and the coming of one.
Reprise II
MERGED IN SURRENDER
Kiss me quiet under the rain~ skips and pounds,
awash the tears and pain fevering my anguish,
with the July moon to stir my slothful frown,
wide-skirted trees swing demure on the breeze
their cyclic sops and bows-- a dancing clown.
Our hands clasp to spins and turns on that wet ground,
tango to loves groove, we are pleased to tease
as this emblaze our spirit and behold our strength.
The air touched by purple lilac blossoms caress--
it velvety flirt tickling our pact distress.
Our hungered bodies beseech on nightly bounds
in a ballroom beseem for loving grounds.
From lips tiptoeing on skin, so easy they appease,
to strokes flavoured by glows of summer reprise,
slow to fast moves wings a-twitter heated degrees
as this emblaze our spirit and behold our strength.
Among the years where there's whispers that seize,
experience match our heartbeats on impermeable squeeze
and if tension snaps on daylight and nightfall sound
in search of essences where rubbles or debris abounds...
In the absence of solution, should we stop to care?
Ah! Let crisp leaves of autumn display our memories,
cherish the days when February sings Spring: our promise
as this emblaze our spirit and behold our strength.
Hearken thoughts and hearts merged in surrender,
the shaped images and forms impress the depths,
our love root a seed echoing the song of forever
as this emblaze our spirit and behold our strength.
__________________________________________________
***The first three stanza didn't follow definite rhyme format but the rhymes are retained as much as possible on each stanza except the last one, the envoy is rhymed with.
Sponsor Catie Lindsey
Contest Name Not Your Average Ballade
Placed 7th...
O.E. Guillermo
9:53 pm. April 21, 2015
Keep art form crisp, keep shades of grey;
Offer to bare, offer to show;
Sense strokes made brisk, sense lines that sway;
Take wear and tear, take tint and glow;
Art lines propose, art sparks appeal;
Bring profound fare, bring passion's flow;
Indulge fond dose, indulge stark feel.
Surreal form flings, surreal art hurls;
Urge moves the dice, urge mulls the case;
Rich purpose rings, rich motive swirls;
Roaring shades spice, roaring tones trace;
Entice wild pain, entice mad touch;
Angst beyond price, angst between space;
Loiter with gain, loiter with much.
Picture the touch, picture the face;
Look beyond shades, look between tints;
Align bold nudge, align stern pace;
Yield image made, yield textured mint;
Blaze blooming bust, blaze brazen boom;
Open mind floods, open heart knows;
Offer sharp thrust, offer pulse room;
Kinder full blood, kinder prime show.
Ideas and plots, ideas and thoughts;
Do grand surprise, do great display;
Etch surreal thought, etch pregnant lot;
Aim blunt reprise, aim canvas stray;
Sign fragrant spot, sign searing slot!
Leon Enriquez
18 Mar 2014
Singapore
(Note: Kostabi is a contemporary modern
avant garde artist who creates surreal impressions
on canvas in oil paintings. Ideas and images are
somewhat haunting and taunting in texture.)
Yet another year
To bake spring cookies;
Time now to endear
Gourmet treats you see.
Just the way you plan,
These three days you squeeze;
Recipe and trends
In a steady breeze.
A mini workshop
Of processing steps;
Each working non-stop
In a brisk mind map.
Crafting fond delights,
Each moment makes more;
From dawn to late night,
A harvest galore.
Each man to a stage,
To muster and make;
Cookie cutter gauge,
Flavours on a take.
One by one attend,
Cookie on parade;
Mix and match the span,
Freshly baked charades.
Oh the sheer delight
Of hand-made cookies;
See tasty treats bright
Made for you and me.
Heaven is on earth
As cookies come forth;
Taste finds grand re-birth
As our work goes north!
I can hear the spring
Sing in tasty bakes;
Tea and cookies bring
Warm moments we make.
Ann now flings surprise,
Serene can add form;
Chong works the reprise,
Leon sets free the norm.
Three full days to bake,
Zest sets the bar high;
Lots and lots to stake,
Feast comes when time flies.
Leon Enriquez
08 February 2015
Singapore
Under my Refuge
A canopy of Oaks
Sheltering from the blazing sunshine
Sheltering from the sweltering heat
That has put me to flight
To seek the solace of trees
Too much brightness, too much light
On this summers day
The trees are wilting
They have no water to drink
As on the grounds leaves are falling
Carpeting the ground
The crow squawks for water
To quench its thirst
Maybe a splash
Farmers are harrowing
But ploughs can barely scratch
The concrete hard dirt
The exercises once witnessed
Is a thing of the past
As the heat rages on in earnest
The acorns drops in submission
A gentle breeze rustling the carcasses of leaves
I can't help being grateful
As it gathered speed
To soothe and pamper
Fulfilling a need.
But of this canopy I am grateful
As it has eased my torment
Giving me a reprise.
Feels like a long lost friend visiting
Feels like from heaven sent.
The Angel
Heart of Peace
In the hills and glens of the Bosnian homelands
Roamed the Serbian chetniks, with swords of the devil
In the name of nationalism
Raping and killing, burning and pillaging
Their aggressions they called it defending
Carkic the rapist of all of humanity
Drank himself to a stupor
To hide his soul from his very own gods
As he burned the villages, children and all
How can such evil stand so tall?
From the ruble of hate, and Serbian addictions
There rises an angel from the concentration camps
Malice none, for her heart is filled with compassion
She listens to the victims, her kindness is her fashion
Esmuda Mujagic, content to build bridges to rainbows true
She is an angel of inspirations
Asking only for warmth for the victims of torture
No reprise is sought, only admissions of truth
So through forgiveness, life can mend and flourish
Instead arrested and harassed
The soldiers of Serbia, still carrying on
Your hands as soft as cotton balls
My hands colored like cheese balls
Your hair I always touch
My hair I can't detach
Your eyes I miss each day
My eyes I wash all day
Your arms I caress and miss
My arms I cannot twist
Your neck I match with golden lace
My neck I scratch and brace
Your face I draw and chase
My face I can't erase
Calling your name is my password
My name drowning in crossword
Your wish is my command
Mine is not in demand
Your choice is always praised
Mine is pleased, if not addressed
How can we reach compromise
When we're always in reprise?...
Yours and mine are possessive
Our titles not divisive
Yours and mine are just the same
If you'll only agree without shame
Yours and mine are hearts in one
Hearts beating, sweating under the sun
More things can be said and done
Until we're off or gone!
True highbrows can't hear commoner's pleas
Stuck sitting on their swanky settees
Status fades as affluence recedes
I'd prefer pink orchids if you please
Elitists applaud wealthy reprise
Fake posers deceive masses with ease
Think that they deserve all that they seize
So send purple orchids if you please
Fools imagine themselves on marquees
Those who would toss it all to the breeze
Who can't see the forest for the trees
Bring me more red red orchids if you please
Cultures erode when no one agrees
Innocence shrinks slowly by degrees
Fairness appears a tawdry tease
I sigh for white orchids if you please
Feel for the needy brought to their knees
My selfish world of ten thousand mes
Flowers fail as empty pleasantries
Making these moments mere niceties
Oh Echo please, my love reprise
From mountains high to valleys deep.
Wherein these words we share resound,
While drifting on a summers breeze,
Or whispering through autumn leaves.
As springtimes kiss melts winters snow,
In solitude i walk alone.
Each day i dream we're face to face.
No words, we smile with misty eyes
My thoughts bring bliss in each caress
And holding hands with tenderness.
Where are you now my sylvan nymph.
I hear your voice, each sweet refrain
Entwining mine, so faithfully
Oh mystery, reveal to me
Your hiding place, please let it be,
Along loves stepping stones of sound.
Or maybe serendipity.
Lest i must wait by Heavens door
Until the passing times no more.
3/ 30/ 2018.
She, suffered in angst and a deep loneliness,
As her jasmined poertry, was new and just growing.
“What good are my poems regarding truthfulness
or honesty?”
Against seas of creative poems, puff-pretty, bright
And glowing?
The icy, winter,rains came and gave her not a
whisp of a warm answer.
Her soul and stomach did crave some reprise..
“No, no, rest, dear poetess,”….words whispered
came in the form of a mystical soul- prancer.
Then..what to do, she most freely wept!
“Stop looking for readers of my poems?”
Is there a wondrous secret being kept?
“Stop, stop”, the laughing, winter-prancer said.
“Each poem you wrote once sweetly slept in
the soft bed of your heart.”
“Let it be go now….and like a newborn eagle..
alight with freedom and depart.”
Dedicated to Joe Maverick in Australia, on the
loss of his cat, Tibbles.! Condolences.
Your kndness to me has always been
appreciated!
Huggs~Pangie
***Written sometine in my early years here***
1/6/2024