Long Saturnine Poems
Long Saturnine Poems. Below are the most popular long Saturnine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Saturnine poems by poem length and keyword.
To Nobby Clarke I made a pledge
that I would never give up trying,
surrender all things (short of dying!)
to find a rhyme for "Percy Sledge".
Old Nobby thought he had the edge!
But I, pure intellect applying,
the glory of the challenge eyeing,
came at it like a flying wedge!
I didn't need to drudge or dredge.
(It wasn't hard, there's no denying -
no saturnine poetic sighing,
like Keats beside his withered sedge).
Now Nob has more than funds to hedge.
Aware of rounds he'll soon be buying,
beer into which he'll soon be crying,
he's standing on his window ledge!
I inhaled the shadowed silence
when the midnight sky was ghostly gray
and exhaled my thoughts in a hymnal,
with lamenting lyrics dark and droll
after a dreary day had taken its toll.
In those moments of sapid solitude,
an inner calm should've soothed my soul
as the world solemnly slumbered
beneath a brooding pallid moon
that lumbered in the saturnine sky.
Why then, did I feel anxious and alone?
I waited in anguished anticipation
for expectant nimbus mothers to bear...
Heavy with their burdens, on the verge
of purging offspring at the birthing hour.
When at last the tiny drops arrived,
I kissed the rain that had caused them pain,
as if they were my tears, torrentially shed.
Thunder roused me with deafening drumming,
so terrifyingly loud that I heard myself scream.
My eyes squinted in the brilliant luminance
as the summer solstice streamed.
I sighed, murmuring in fear,
"I am a dangerous dream."
I was in awe of aurora as I rose from bed,
spellbound by sunlight after a murky night.
But in morning's dewy dawning,
my taciturn thoughts turned to you
and daylight dimmed...
dull and tarnished to patina gold.
You were always my radiant Ra
and I your elusive Luna.
We are reigning celestial bodies,
denied the desire to touch.
Heartbroken at being kept apart.
In transience of time, I whisper your name
with each breath in mourning hours
while in melancholy musings I beseech,
"But to be your Moon, must I wane?"
(verse 1)
You are not a stranger
to my ever loving anger
Violence is just a stain
hiding what’s in my abyss
Silence is empty bliss
tonight you’ll feel my strain
(Chorus)
I bring you down
to keep myself high
I keep you low
to bring myself up
feel my fist
twisted is my love
striked down by the glove
you are not dismissed
(verse 2)
Let the crimson rain
wash away the stains
from the pain
of the chains
keeping you down
Burdensome is the crown
forged by cataclysmic tendencies
and saturnine atrocities
(Chorus)
I bring you down
to keep myself high
I keep you low
to bring myself up
feel my fist
twisted is my love
striked down by the glove
you are not dismissed
Twisted Love
8-14-‘18 revised: 11-18-‘18
Lyricist Inc.
David A.Porter
Labyrinth paths, winding and twisting, a serpentine meandering,
otherworldly, ethereal, much too dreamy, lost and wandering;
saturnine, long raven sparkling hair that I hide behind, woefully,
tangled in the branches and thorns of life, lost hopelessly.
And then I found poetry and I pen my sorrow in verses bleeding,
now I swirl with beautiful words and send them in the universe, soaring;
writing my sadness is intoxicating, but also it can be a dreadful curse hurting,
prisoner of the past, locked in chains, can I begin to reverse, be a new me changing.
Entwined in words that I put away, I found them still waiting,
with a painful heart, I write my tangled, thorny journey, my hand trembling;
unraveling the weave of chaotic corridors in my life, I fall to my knees, praying,
oh will others love my verses penned, will they weep sadly when I write the aching?
In the shady silent forest, a shimmering snake seeks it's sanctuary, slithering,
beautiful definitely, and like the iridescent snake, I hide lost intentionally;
hidden, safe, melancholy, until the sun has found my soul delicately,
labyrinth paths, winding and twisting, a serpentine meandering;
___________________________
February 3, 2016
Acrostic/Mono Rhyme/Alliteration/Internal Rhyme
Copyright Protected, ID 16-751-710-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Theme chosen, Lost and Found
Written for the contest, 4 x 4 Pairing, Master Rhyme,
sponsor, Silent One
Second Place
Her winsome smile belied her secret essence
A temptress and siren
Given to saturnine quintessence
And I a man of placid and calm complexion
Became ever more umbrageous
With each stranger she offered affection
Ciara Cybelle chose to take her chances
Unconcerned by my mood
Continued her frenzied romances
She swooned at my charm
And laughed at my wit
And yet held to another man’s arm
Ciara Cybelle a nymph out of hell
Twisting a man
With her temptress spell
I had to make her understand
She simply had to see
I must be her only man
But Ciara Cybelle laughed instead
Eyes flashing fire
She brazenly said
The likes of me would never know
The deliciousness
Of the charms she would bestow
On other men she found fairer
Then in a rage
I struck in blind error
And carefree Ciara Cybelle
Lay shattered and still
At my feet where she fell
To the dark waters I fed
The alabaster body
Of Ciara Cybelle dead
Now benthic stillness of cimmerian depths
Disturbed by the pale lifeless limbs
Of Ciara Cybelle
Now tumescent and water pruned
The once sempiternal beauty
Forever ruined
Elmer said "Dad, you used to race
"On that bicycle you were often in first place
"You glided up hills, you zoomed on the flat
Then you just stopped, please explain that!"
I said to Elmer, this is my tale
I walked into a bike shop named "Endless Trail"
Thunder and lightning lit up the bike tech's face
He looked eerie, was I in the right place?
I told the tech that my chain always slips
He put it on the rack, rotated at a clip.
He said "this bike works like a charm."
But I didn't believe him, I waved my arm.
I said "this bike failed on a Taconic climb
"I lost the race; it ruined my time.
"It slipped on me on the way here too!
"I'm sure I'm not crazy, what do I do?"
Thunder rumbled, and lightning hit nearby
A bat flew in, like a mouse learning to fly.
The tech gave a saturnine smile
He said: "The bicycle gremlin has you in his file."
"You see, he's been spotted in the Hudson valley
"He strikes in the country, he strikes in the alley
"He's a prankster, he just can't resist
"Producing glitches, that don't exist."
I left the store, I rode into the hail
I felt better about myself, though I shook in the gale.
Then my feet flew off each side
The chain had slipped, the gremlin at my side.
He knew I'd seen him, and I gave chase
He looked like a leprechaun, but a nastier face.
I said to him "I'll see you hang!"
When suddenly my tire blew with a bang.
The Gremlin smirked, said "can't catch me!"
So I had to stop biking, I'm sure you'll agree
Now I raise tomatoes and collect stamps
Not as much fun as flying off ramps.
Elmer looked at me with affection, said "Now I understand
"Only magic could stop you that nobody could withstand.
But my heart sank, when he repeated his tale
to the folks who run the bikeworx at Endless Trail.
Endless Trail's owner told Elmer of a conspiracy
It's the car companies that pay the gremlin, you see
So frustrated cyclists will switch to a car.
The bicycle gremlin can push them too far.
So my rep was saved by Endless trail
The check I wrote is in the mail.
Beyond the sun's celestial dominion,
past purple shimmers of twilight,
I delve far beyond moonlight's golden glow
into the darkness of pilloried memories,
continually searching for answers but fail to find
those that keep my heart fettered in chains.
Within my restless sleep reveries trespass,
flowing through saturnine channels of my mind,
flooding my heart until only sorrow remains
with pensive images I thought I'd left behind.
I'm blinded, not by the bloom of starlight,
but by bewildering moments in time.
Dismal are the murky shadows looming
in the corners of these cavernous hollows.
They hover over my drubbing heart,
whispering taunts in descending echoes.
I grow impatient to end their clamor.
High is the morning's rushing tide,
reaching its frothy fingers out for me.
I rest on grains of moist ochre sand,
winnowing far beyond the limits
of disconsolate bereavement.
It's here that Autumn's demise
wears a shroud of withered leaves.
I lie quietly, waiting to close my eyes,
my tormented heart lingering in grief
that has haunted me since long ago.
As the sun begins its ascent from the sea,
dawn disturbs my quest for eternal peace.
October 8, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 16 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
~~~~~~~~~
Originally posted on 10~20~2016
Sometimes,
sailing in ebony blades
of saturnine seas
brings forth a forsaken froth
of scarred reveries,
when musk-ochre
tints of sunshine cease
to slice through solemn
scarlet skies and
cruelly-coloured black-pearls
shimmer as an obsidian beacon
of forest-green intentions,
caging pantoums of peace
in glass-jars of
bleeding sandalwood-scented
butterflies, entrapped in
sapphire patterns.
My spirit is often ablaze
as a crematory where
opal-gold truths are buried
eight feet under the raven crusts,
and I rise as feathery-flames
in hot-bronze furnaces
of diamond-dragon's
chauvinistic cave,
so that heart's papier- mâché
cells never sacrifice their
rosemary plasma to
eagle-edged egoes and
noiseless yet suffocating
sonatas of narcissistic
nestled woodpeckers.
I believe, life is wistful
like wilderness of a white-wolf,
growling besides midnight's
brim and howling to the
carmine moon, wrapping
peach-sunsets of serenity
in fluid-time, unfolding
scattered shades of
sonorously rustling foliages,
shimmering in breezes of
crumbling claret twigs and
satin seedlings whining
to the list of traitors,
for their unborn lavender buds.
So, swear not under the afterglows
of august skies and
let me float on the
crest of azure waves, in my
snowflake-capsule, being
immortally evanescent,
As every promise is like
a betraying magenta melody
of crepuscular youth, fading
in forged futuristic pastels.
I came seeking a child that was born a king.
I have strayed, beguiled from my undertaking.
It was a binary star that I chose to follow,
one path leading straight to Him,
but I sought the brighter glow
and became a wondering pilgrim.
My star led me here through circuitous routes,
through pleasurable meanderings
and gratuitous pursuits,
crossing mellowed valleys and honeyed springs.
I have smelled the flower of travellers-joy
and tasted the heady fruits of the vine.
I have eaten and drank till I felt cloy;
sought fun-loving company, avoiding the saturnine.
Questing warmth in the arms of more than one woman,
hypnotized by the charms of their fair sex;
tasting only their sweetness, like a persimmon,
sensing not the puckering in their vortex.
My eyes have feasted on many a sunrise,
and, again, they drank in the satiny sunset.
I have allowed my mind to fantasize,
benumbed by the beauty of that distant vignette.
Life has been a sweet potion to swallow,
but time is running out, I must reach my goal,
pursue the star fast losing its halo
and find the King, I must save my soul.
I’m here now, where is this child?
all I found was a Man Crucified.
Silent scored
red-hearted consciousness,
feeling empty when noted nonverbal
and then filling up
and out
and over into voices
green positive
and down
and in
and under ultra-violet negatives
doubly anticipating and anxious times.
Silent hearts invisible
blue quaking lines
not invincible
for surviving today's healthiest sung purposes,
Yesterday's
and tomorrow's musical
deep learned meaning mystery
of living
vibrant
yet unsung
private
hidden history,
Muses of multigenerational culture,
healthy sweeping wealth
and pathological empty
muted stealth
Anxious to avoid loneliness,
a life not mattering,
sputtering,
splattering,
flattering
darkly saturnine,
not working out,
not playing around,
exercising bland premedicated
meditated consciousness
of silence
Within echoing
cacophonous languaged voices
of Earth's regenerate Muse,
sometimes too desecrated degenerate,
yet always historic co-musicating,
mediating multicultic cultures,
violet
and nonviolent
Silence
between mused notations,
anxious and anticipating
mutations
Silent scored
red-hearted consciousness,
feeling empty when noted nonverbal
and then filling up time
and out
and over into voices
green positive
and ultra-nonviolet negatives
anticipating anxious rhyme
in circles
triangulating resilient sacred space
in pre-historic reverberating
reverse vibrating
time.