Long Sedate Poems

Long Sedate Poems. Below are the most popular long Sedate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sedate poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member A Models Likeness

A bruised heart scorned, sacred vows of a saint, sorrows of
unrequited lovers—art is what you paint—I Am Anaya

A Models Likeness 

Hues of magentas and white acrylic silky spells
Vibrant colors mixed from his palette he evokes
Swept over again ‘til emerging shades of eggshells
He has an ability to convey a sense of deep melancholy 
and yearning in much of his work
Thus, the reason she chose him furiously, 
at first for whatever it took
to capture her in what she is to atone for, 
her fate to be.

With bated breath the artist brushes swirling strokes
A finished background, now ready for her face sedate
A statuesque quality she provokes
More lugubrious than usual, she tells him she sat up late
worrying her fiancé be held up on the way
The model has been helpful he thought to himself
although she stood very still for him, all day.

He paints her salient gown next, her pose engaged
Her smile feigned, lips swollen red, from biting he detects
A glance of an earlier sketch traced of her enraged
He hides it while diluting color to match her pale skin
Languid and weak holding back her tears, 
she summons him to begin again.

Her inner likeness fails to appear, still he proceeds
Rest and ease your mind
What do you hear?  The renowned realist artist pleads
Think of times when life was kind
She protests it is no use, tells him to let it be, 
He agrees, lifting his brush and with its pointy end,
he then turns her head slightly, thirty degrees
Back to the canvas a figure now transcends.
   
A husband’s absent journey down the aisle
leaves her alone but with a phantom kiss                                                                             
A soul rendered vacant from callous guile  
A portrait of doom gazing into an abyss
What would’ve shown through paint; pain and sorrows
The artist knows what needs to be done, none the less
Lest what may have been in the lover’s tomorrows,
‘twas the painter's blissful ode to her wedding dress.
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Zebra Mystique

I want to ride a zebra

   and race the rays of radiance
       through heat-waves’ sailing gradients -

     a folly wild - a mood untamed
   elated hands in bristled mane
unbridled veins uncorked champagne...

   yes! elevate sedate heart rate
     I WANT to ride a zebra

        stripes yin yang oasis sweet and
          whimsy rules a drumroll beat as

        gallop sways euphoric roughness
      crossing plains of dreamy lushness -
    steed’s exotic tender toughness
  pacing thrills in state of luscious...

yes! animate to sate my wait
   I want to RIDE a zebra
 
         savanna grass a grand expanse
            a lion’s roar - hyena's rant 
          amuse myself with peril’s speed
     adventure sows romantic’s seed... so

         gestate date with fancy’s fate
YES! I want to ride a  Z E B R A !
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Scandals 'sic'

Used to be sex scandals..Treason spys betrayal lies
Did some wear suits and sandals? But why
Digress? We see no less..indeed such retrograde
Examples..And regression; there is no
Suppression of avatistic, evil actions death
Is a (great industry) s r a..Rituals of a low-rachy..Genocide wars collide.' Who can make the biggest gain.? Laud that nation
Sedate its citizens again..desensitize dis-harmonize.' Deifiy and demonize.' Play the chords dim the lights.' Then Bathe in blood
Is that your delight.? It pays to kill, are the innocents better.? In your estimation.? I mean? Is it a higher pay 
grade getter..? I hear
The grinding of many gears.' The rash apportion.' The play on fear..To kill the elders.' Was just a sop to the crowd whose morals you frayed..? Or shredded morelike; zouds.! And here we see the basest tricks.'
Exposed despised..Example Scandle ectremely  'Sic'
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Magnified Myself


An inarticulate artist, 
I wanted to paint 
the lone life’s landscape,
            effervescent,
the construed course
of a river called desire
            unrestrained, 
meandering its way 
in self-possessed pattern,
I yearned.
In prime youth 
I thought I owned 
            solely
the whole canvas,
in self-satisfied strokes 
I smeared
            blithe,
the subterranean serenity
of psychic vales,
disappearing undepicted
in the fold of canvas,
            blank.

Free will amalgamated 
prodigal paints 
with shades of ego,
            copious,
contrived colors spilled
with spontaneity slide
from porous palette 
of permeable mind,
            expansive.
The banal painting
didn’t turn out 
to be a masterpiece,
the hidden designer 
created a mundane motif      
of listless life,
            destined.

Toward the hued horizon
of draping dawn,
drawn at canvas periphery,
my mental brush swept
            spellbound,
striving with sensuous drive
to capture the beauty
of unique chromatic lattice   
at the edge 
of the nascent sky,
            pristine.
In supercilious strides 
I trampled 
the malachite meadow,
turned wasteland, 
where I walked
            d i s t r a u g h t 
on my shadow,
            s h a t t e r e d.

On the bleak backdrop,
sinking forlorn 
            ordained,
within twilight zone, 
rinsed by sedate rays 
of the setting sun, 
my consumed essence                                   
gives perforce
            now 
the final strokes
of bare brush 
at the edge 
of convoluted canvas, 
where my senescent mindscape           
devout,         
is illumined 
by the eternal glow 
of divine light. 
Through the lens
of introspection
I see me
metamorphosed 
into a lengthening shadow,
            magnified 
bigger than myself,
            d i s i n t e g r a t e d.

Premium Member Meditation

A question is asked
‘why meditate’
‘Is it really the in thing to do’
being stillness sedate

Rephrasing the query
‘how may we make joy eternal’
We define by pure intent
quest to reside in bliss tranquil 

Accustomed to being a doer 
believing we are body identity 
We dwell in cyclic joy & sorrow
rotating not attention polarity 

In other words we stagnate
in narrow domains of the ego
Our attention entrapped in illusion
attachments we are reluctant to forgo

With this understanding clear
we choose to internalise attention
Thoughts rested yet attentive 
void of emptiness our orientation 

Resting thus in silence & stillness 
in an effortless attention shift
Fulcrum of awareness heart centric
we begin to feel we are not adrift

This inner polarity of our sentience 
dormant for long now slowly awakens 
Stillness softly aligns with conscience 
when voluntarily ego by us is forsaken 

Relegating role of body as an interface
for day to day earth life experience 
Stillness our mode with God as mover
we feel magnetism as joy exuberance 

Having but grazed the outer periphery
of our own divinity resident within
Divine connect becomes our priority
gripping us in thunderous bliss ignition 

We may, if we like, label this as meditation 

24-September-2020
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Unrolling Expanse

Staying on a promontory, I watch,
The wobbling mass of water below.

Before my eyes,
The sea stretches far;
An infinite scroll of chiffon,
Rolling and unrolling
In shades of green and sapphire.
In its sedate hours of brooding silence, 
A calm expanse with feeble waves,
As if seized by an uncanny lassitude,
Lying in majesty,
Swirling in ecstasy.

Within this mammoth silver submarine,
How many mysterious live forms thrive!
What curious shaped corals, what all sea urchins!
What wealth of fish, what gigantic mammals!

Between the blue sky above
And the blue sea below
I see seagulls fly,
The long beaked pelicans prey,
Grampuses heaving their huge form,
Above the calm surface,
And the milky spray tossing shiny pearls,
Upon the stretching naked strands.

I can see a distant sail,
And the hull of a ship,
Gliding over undulating waves,
Leaving a frothy trail of foam behind,
With water churning and spiraling around,
Where sharks and seals and dolphins swim.

Piles of silver clouds move above
And the golden sands stretch below,
With periwinkles, crabs and shells,
Scattered by the receding waves.

Splashing tides, dancing weeds
Rising crescendo, falling rhythm

Oh! What a splendid scene,
In the rosy gleam of this evening!
What delectable mélange
Of tinkling sensory delights!

Premium Member bonafide certified mommy-fied leaer of a dog pack

I am a bonafide certified mommy-fied leader of a dog pack.
They currently sit at my feet waiting to see what we will do next.
Beau our newbie is the only renegade who keeps running from the pack.
He has never had the run of six acres before, and he loves it.

Sophie, our old lady cocker is sedate and stoic…
unless another member gets too close, then she gives a guttural
warning growl.
She is proud to be the matriarch.

Buddy at one hundred and sixteen pounds could take all of us.
But he is a gentle giant, going with the flow, letting the new baby manhandle him.
Beau at five months, attacks his big bro and often
Play biting his leg and his undercarriage.
They run from couch to couch, moving furniture as they go.
I am super proud to be a bonafide certified mommy-fied leader of a dog pack.
dog
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Shadows of the Valley

Through the chilled night air, I wander.
Melancholy thoughts, I still ponder.
Tinged with foreboding feelings, I fear.
A nightmare while awake, a fog is near.

Devilment surrounds me, in a crazed state.
Tortured howls from creatures once sedate.
What misguided message does this send?
Are we just waiting for the world to end?

Perhaps its time to pay for our sins.
Where a world of fire and brimstone begins?
Will the meaning make us all be prepared?
To what end will the innocent child be spared?

To the higher power that everyone speaks,
Finding light and wisdom that each sinner seeks.
Still the curdling howls enter the unknown.
Terror begets as the last seed is sewn.

Those of faith have renewed doubt,
Will the good book show them the way out?
The young mock, the old laugh, the wise cry.
Is it time for the truth so they wont all die?

Standing on the precipice, so close to the edge.
Knowing that deep valley, merely forms a wedge.
When there is no more life for me to call my own,
Nothing grows now, though every seed is sown.

Gather them together to witness, as I expire.
They will have no answers to all that I enquire.
The truth comes from me. They know it well,
Will they join me? I hear them cry as we enter hell.

Dont follow me, no need for you to die.
I offer the truth, there is no reason to lie,
Turn, walk away, allow this hour as your lives begin.
Dont cry for me on your own doubtful way in.

As I walked in the shadows of the valley not mistaken,
My very last breath has now been taken.
sin
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Season of Torment

Written: June 24, 2023
______________________________________________________________

In the depths of my spirit, I found solace.
I witnessed adornments and embrace.
Garments and clothes, a world you would create,
Surrounded yourself in a realm so sedate.

I lent her weapons, a shield from the harsh reality,
A different face, a disguise for her sanity.
I saw all that touched her—her desires and dreams.
In her quest for something beyond, it seems.

In strange and thorny actions, I followed the lead.
Not knowing where they would lead us, indeed.
A spirit seemed apathetic, lost in her own mind.
However, I stayed faithful and shined

Besides her resting body, I would stay awake. 
Strive to suss out why she sought to be opaque.
Her vow to alter life, to possess secret keys,
I knew she was searching for ease.

But I knew deep down, she was only seeking
Never truly finding, always peeking.
Her kindness enchanted me, and I was its captive.
Constrained by her love, I felt so adaptive.

No other soul could withstand that despair.
But I stayed by her side, showing I cared.
I existed in her soul, as a vacant palace.
Empty and abandoned, a mere space.

I was dependent on her, a shadow in her light.
But what did she luck with my colorless plight?
She wouldn't improve me; or bestow me to shine. 
I was just a pawn in her grand design.

Sadly mortified, I would strain to understand,
But she would shrug her shoulders as if I were bland.
"I understand you," I would say with a sigh.
But she would brush it off, leaving me to wonder why.

In the depths of her spirit, I found solace.
But within myself, I felt a growing malice.
I knew I was just a spectator, a bystander.
Watching as she sought something grander.

Yet, I stuck by her side over wide and thin.
Her spirit held beauty and light within.
And though I may not be the one she sought,
I cherished the moments and the lessons she taught.

In the depths of her spirit, I found solace and peace.
A glimpse into a world where all troubles cease
Though I may never truly understand her quest,
I will support her and gift her my best.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Believe it or not

Imagine a fine conduit looping form,
over front and back, splitting us in two,
within which bliss currents, both cool and warm,
in time stretched silence, pulsations renew.

This show of delight, by day and by night,
fixates our fickle attention within,
God’s grace gifting us the boon of clear sight,
even as bliss beats prance on our skin.

Poised at heaven’s gate, in stillness sedate,
essence of presence inhales love’s incense,
reshaping fate, as nodes within gyrate,
effusing joyously our effulgence.

Truth eternal is stranger than fiction,
of rapture borne by benign bliss friction.
Form: Sonnet

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