Long Rudiments Poems
Long Rudiments Poems. Below are the most popular long Rudiments by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rudiments poems by poem length and keyword.
At dawn I gazed at the kaleidoscopic canvas,
stars still blinking,
uncanny hushed night
somber nebulous sky
a few white pristine clouds floating,
a strip of the silvery Moon still glistened!
A gush of lavender emotions ran through my veins,
This indescribable solemn sight…
felt like a surreal dream!
I found a purpose
The emotions ignited my saffron imagination…
spread its wings and rise to the unfathomable
ruby-red horizon!
February 23, 2022
For "This or That" Vol. 10 Poetry contest
Theme: Rudiments Of Wings
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
I will search for you
when stars seem to be mute
their sparkle shrouded by the cool soot of love's burning root,
I will reach for you
when my lips are lost, fever embossed,
as the night brings only frost, soul between two tears tossed,
I will pray for you
when lightening lashes the rock of my wisdom,
marking my mind with trails trenched in the temptation of Destiny's prism,
I will serande for you
as my most sensitive skin awakens to be awashed in heaven,
seeking your sacred surfaces with open pours pronouncing passwords of passion,
I will find you
where the crossroads of creation and divination release revelation,
divulging the rudiments of desire into senses romanced by body fire and love red vision -
J.A.B.
expanding in nature
not waiting for time
yearning for beauty
glad i met you
wanting to set myself free
not waiting for the right moment
yearning for new experiences
glad i met you
the colors of all colors seem to
coexist in a peace only understood
by the most observant
the vibes of all vibes seem to have
a true understanding of the true essence
of life and its rudiments
as i watch you sleep with a slight smile
on your face, i think back to times when
the continent of trouble was my only true getaway
i allowed myself to be pulled back in by the unfortunate
force of choice and its many unhealthy vices
then one second night you knocked on the door like a
divine calling
i would have never known that you would be my partner in
discovery and my tour guide to the many other different sides
of life
For holding things, two arms have we -
two arms with hands with which we have been blessed.
Two only – we’ve no need of three.
Two arms to reach with or to cross beneath our chest,
and in two arms of someone special we can be caressed.
Although with our two arms we can reach out,
some things we cannot reach; they are too high!
Our arms perform their functions. But what if we could sprout
wings like angels have, permitting us to fly?
Perfection it would be to touch the sky.
With wings we could do so much more.
As with arms, with two wings we also could enfold
those special people we adore,
yet rudiments of wings (two arms) are to be extolled,
for with two arms, we FEEL the flesh of the ones we hold.
Feb. 25, 2022
Entered March 14, 2022 for A Brian Strand Formed Poetry Contest
I loved you …
like water -
dove, swam, immersed
drowned
like breath
out, in, saturated
gasping
unseen
but essential
impalpable, yet vital
my sea -
deep, boundless, capricious
blue … terrifying
my sky -
vast, moody, dazzling
blue … and dark
you … were my
element - oxygen for my fire
breeze to kiss my cheek
a stream to
cool … and christen
the expanse to cast my sails upon
you …
were my aliment -
manna from the heavens
my sustenance
and I …
devoured you
for ‘til that moment
I’d never known
the meaning …
hunger.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, October 27, 2022
youngest progeny Shana Aubrey Harris did need
recipient (thine offspring)
received private lessons to help her lead
a supposed "normal" life,
thus this biological papa did heed
and amenable, lovable, valuable rudiments
of classroom ABC's a challenging deed
for thee lass aye helped beget, yet
a quiet riotous soiree
along information super highway got set
within my imagination
achingly longing to compose a poem
for this righteous dignified dame whose net
whose, incalculable interpersonal worth
voiced melodically ineluctably seduced, sans mirth
and athletic physique
goaded this married father
to attempt some organization awakened image (to be,
or not to be dwelling) within remote hamlet
with rustic cabin crackling hearth
dormant libido (bereft within marriage)
toward some unknown outcome,
yet how grand to parlay pregnant girth
without intent to convey any further details
cuz message of unequivocal charm
minus additional intent for physical interaction
brought joie de vivre deliverance on this Earth.
this spine tingling reaction that flushed testosterone from heads to toe
sketched out sometime from ~july or august 2012
and triggered a chain reaction
of wishful desires in overdrive seeing this aesthetically pleasing gal
in the summer of her full feminine bloom
(and yes, young enough to be me an splendid supreme offspring
of this gap toothed fifty three year old simian)
whose primary purpose comprises tutoring my daughter
born with cognitive plus developmental delays
and whose academic weakness qualified her since birth - or soon thereafter
to receive intervention to allow, enable and provide her with life skills
so she can become self reliant upon an adult
thus bringing this papa thru the aegis of said progeny
exposure sans young women (who seem prominent in social service field)
many blindsiding these myopic eyes with hypnotic trance
conjuring up illusions of grandeur
kept under lock and key lest detriment
comprises instructing requisite basic skills per youngest progeny Shana
the punim in question recipient of private lessons
in the rudiments of classroom ABC's
yet a quiet riot along the super hidden highway within my imagination
achingly longs to compose a poem for this righteous dignified dame
whose voice like melody ineluctably seduces me and athletic physique
goads this married father to attempt some organization of his awakened
dormant libido (bereft within thine marriage) toward some unknown outcome
without intent to convey other than a message of unequivocal charm
minus any additional intent for physical interaction.
From predawn birth, you dwell alone,
Preferring deep shadowland over light.
So much easier to conceal what is shown,
Nascent ember forelimbs that daunt your sight.
With growth in undying murk, and wings in flames
In brilliant reds, yellows, golds all blazing.
Flying is hopeless with birds of other names.
Passions rage from wings, arresting, so amazing.
Oh firebird, searing, sizzling, soaring, scorch,
Torrid your dazzling, craving fiery force.
You blister iron night like a blowtorch,
A fuming, fever unleashed from an innate source.
Transfixing terror, tormenting trusted truth,
Firestorm fervency awakened in sleep zones.
Fire wings of lasting, lusting, lingering youth.
Each breath covets and dreads your roaring cyclones.
Your infernal dance, your ardent limbic rapture
Descending, curling, exploding, and unfurling,
Brassy, flammable breeze is dream conjure,
Ascending, arcing, igniting in fine sterling.
Oh firebird, you rise from rudimentary wings,
From embryonic burnings, and larval aspirations,
From timid beginnings to radiant pinion waving,
with Inspiration, you bring her brother, Trepidations.
Date: 02/24/2022
Title: The Rudiments of Wings Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
"Every secret memory, every experience in life, and every
thought can be written within the words of a poem."
Quote - by Constance
my writing is rudiments ... of planning ...
it is undeveloped ... and totally imperfect ...
in the beginning my poem is basic
needing more elements and some nitty-gritty
more guts
and a lot more heart
~ storms shake the ocean of my sleep
I dream of wings fluttering, fluttering
of eagles gliding on whispering winds ~
I must make a foundation that is strong
dig deep into my soul for the right emotions
laying the groundwork is essential
finding the right words and right poetic voice
then rewriting and rewriting my poem
~ clouds sail across the sky in my imagination
oh, my heart is a temple of withered memories
and my mind full of the gauzy feathers ~
I write without stopping
the word pouring from my pen
I do not hesitate but I do linger
and then I take a breath and read my creation
sighing, I read it again and again
checking the grammar ... the 'poetic voice' ...
and it is beautiful
~ so like a mother I cherish this poem born
I hold it to my heart ... then I send it on wings
to fly and soar ... in the world
...like an eagle gliding ~
_____________________
February 18, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/The Rudiments of Wings
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1331-105-18
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Theme chosen- The Rudiments of Wings
Written for the Standard contest This or That, Vol. 10
sponsor, Edward Ibeh, Judged 03/02/2022
Second Place
My long-sufferin' Mother tried to teach me the rudiments of social graces,
So as not to make a fool of myself at fancy affairs and such other places.
But even so, at the school prom I splattered sauce on the tux I had rented!
So much fer impressing my date who thought me somewhat demented!
I can still remember Mom's admonitions as if it were yesterday:
"Say please, thank you and pardon me to those you meet along the way."
"The napkin ain't used fer blowin' yer nose or as if washin' yer face."
"Keep it short and to the point should you be asked to say the grace."
"Keep yer elbows off the table, sit up straight with one hand on yer lap."
"Don't hog conversation and if you've nothin' sane to say, clam yer trap."
"Learn to use the silverware properly so as not to be disgraced."
"Tell the hostess what a fine meal it was (tho' not necessarily to yer taste)."
"Don't start eatin' 'til the hostess begins and don't guzzle too much wine."
"Always help the lady on yer right to be seated before you begin to dine."
"Open yer car door and other doors fer ladies and they'll appreciate that."
"Rise when ladies or elders enter the room and remember to tip yer hat."
"Offer yer arm to sweet old ladies and assist them to cross the street."
"Tell moms their babes are cute (even if not) but be very discreet."
Mom's sage advice was well taken but today it seems that it was all for naught,
Since many folks ain't got no couth or respect nor behave as they ought!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved