Long Shaded Poems
Long Shaded Poems. Below are the most popular long Shaded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shaded poems by poem length and keyword.
REQUIEM-A STRUCTURED PROSE
Nothing moves,silence, echos of
voices,the past awakes!Faces
appear,then depart!A tear trickles
slowly,the music plays,faintly.
Emotion erupt,again!
Regret whispers,in pain!
MEMORIES-A STRUCTURED PROSE
Memories surface,a requiem of
sounds,heaving emotions realign,
words recalled speak volume from
deep within , and live again on a trail
of nows then wash nostalgia’s face
with random spontaneity from
the unconscious mind.The house
full of yesterdays,books that filled
wet Wednesdays,cross-stitched hours
upon the wall.Eclectic collected
moments,sentiments,priceless,unique
and irreplaceable,this smell of love
percolating into endless tomorrows.
ADIEU-A STRUCTURED PROSE
To write my thoughts,to listen
and to see and let these feelings
outward fly.Unfettered dreams as
white clouds upon a summer sky.
Experiences re-lived,evoked from
shaded tones,no longer trapped,
but,by you dear reader,now set free.
Adieu, no more again sweet love to
know,no more,no more will love be mine.
AFTERWORD-A STRUCTURED PROSE
We forget so easily life’s reality,
vulnerable,alone we stay transfixed
by memory,frayed.Musings of the
mind,experience,past&present
lingers long.A reality that ebbs
and flows as morning mist.Just
out of reach shadows persist
circumstance moves on,twenty-four
hours remain a day.Our times change,
inside we stay the same,as players
not spectators in the game.
Listen to me read these structured prose on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro
You and I, we are,
two polar petals, laced with
arctic blue moonshine
of soft sweven-hymns
and sunburst apricity
of aqua-gold tides,
reminiscing mauve
hours, when our love waltzed in teal
faithful lakes hued with
ivory ink of
coral kismet, shimmering
in wine-auroras,
but now we just trace
poisoned pixie-dust, upon
each other's frail fate,
sinking in folklores
of shaded red canopies,
as I bleed stardust
in ebonies of
hellfire heavens and we fade
like smoked-ash comets;
for you and I, are
we Hemlock and ivy, swathed
in swan-shaped ballads,
floating like hail on smudged graves?
the first leaf falls brown through green an august end well played
insect sounds whir brushes on tin seed shakers speak squirrels chatter
crisp metal days sharp tasting contrasts to the noon heat crescendo
the black dragon fly hovers above the tall jewel weed bed
black waters beneath stagnant sunlight twinkles like stars on the night
gnats swarm drinking from leaf boats hidden sparrows call and wait
two eyes flit left, right, up, down granite boulders panther god
silently stalking on root legs shaded nostrils open scenting
pray that the big cat sleeps I leave him chamomile flowers
First Appeared in Poetry Quarterly
Fall 2013 along with Babe & the Boyo's, as well The Bitter End of the Road
See About the Poem
*I do not get paid if you buy a copy, just thought you'd like to know.
Singing birds and laughing children
Summer sounds seep into our senses
Friends, family and neighbors socialize
Backyard shaded lounging chairs
children playing nearby
Summertime sunshine and outdoor adventure
Fishing at dawn on smooth lake with dad
Swimming, volleyball, of course no teacher
Playing and riding bikes 'till called in for bed
Warm days... balmy nights
barbecues and campfire talks
moments together
friends, families and neighbors
good company and laughter
Written April 7, 2018
'It's All About Four' Contest
By Broken Wings
Tenth Place
Forms in the order given here:(For a total of 14 lines) Cystalline-2 lines, Kimo-3 lines, Quatrain-4 lines, Tanka-5 lines
As we sailed the fast river of Rhône
the steady sun bleached it a sparkling gold
like the treasures of Caesar’s kingdom
A curtain of fawn-silken tackle, shaded
back the fervidly garish star scatter,
and cooling flower-scented airs tickled
the senses like touching down-soft silk
"zhuang hong zhuang sheng" (Chinese)
“Put on airs’ - Peter and I are Gatsby gilded.
Why not dress - on luminous forenoons?
Pick a heart, any heart and prick it, sharply,
with the sight of a handsome man.
I yet breathless, breathe
What weapon is sharper than libido?
I defend myself, with fashion’s sartorial sparkle.
Frankly, I was hoping for something passively erotic,
you know, foment a false perception - dazzle
with fancy outwork to tip the cosmic balance
Men will witness what they believe
.
.
song for this:
Desperately Trying by Club des Belugas, Anna Luca
The ideas
The challenges
Managed in various ways
Opened to possibilities
From day to day
New thoughts
A creative mind
That time, unwind
Outside of the box
The unthinkable
Positivity
NON-negativity
Success goals and plans
Landed, on great grounds
Plans and goals were found
Where no one ever thought
Risen above, plenty of love
They made it
Was shaded
Moved forward
Was hated
Outside of the box
Much success, nevertheless
Plenty abroad, a lot.
Note: Often times you may be judged. I can say, what GOD has for you it is for YOU. No matter what others have said. The box might have been closed, and shut with a tight lid. But overall, one still made it out.
When you know what you can do and have the faith and courage to move forward. There sometimes might be haters keeping the lid on you, your success, goals, visions, and dreams. I say, trust in Jesus all the way.
The mountain keeps no ledger of our names;
it wears the centuries like weathered wool,
while we are footprints written on the tide,
brief alphabets the evening learns to erase.
The oak that shaded lovers and wandering saints
lets each leaf loosen without protest.
Its golden whispers spiral to the earth,
small prayers returning to the book of roots.
We gather houses from splinters of hope,
brick our laughter into stubborn walls,
hang portraits where yesterday smiles forever—
yet dust rehearses quietly in every corner,
a patient sculptor polishing all possession
into the color of forgotten roads.
Time is an invisible river
that carries castles and cradles alike.
Its current smooths the sharp edges of triumph,
rounds grief into silent stones,
and teaches even iron
the soft language of rust.
Once, I believed my heart
was a lantern no darkness could swallow.
Now I know it is a candle in cathedral wind,
its trembling flame made beautiful
because it cannot bargain with forever.
Still, the dawn scatters silver
across the shoulders of the sea.
Birdsong stitches morning to the sky.
Children chase butterflies
as if joy itself had learned to wear wings,
and old hands cradle sunlight
like water cupped from a sacred spring.
Perhaps that is the secret.
Not to defy the dust,
nor curse the slow surrender of the flesh,
but to bloom while the seasons remember our fragrance;
to leave kindness like wildflowers
along another traveler's path;
to love until the soul becomes
lighter than the ashes it must one day leave behind.
For dust is not merely an ending—
it is the quiet grammar of beginnings,
the seed's dark cradle,
the potter's waiting clay,
the soft brown page
upon which eternity writes again.
And when the last wind
gathers my scattered hours
into its invisible hands,
let it carry not my bones alone,
but every smile I planted,
every tear I understood,
every hope I dared to kindle.
Then I shall not fear
becoming dust,
for even dust remembers
the stars from which it came.
Laying in the hammock in the summer breeze
Looking up at the sky, through the shaded trees
Going to the river on a hot summer’s day
Watching the river’s flow take troubles away
Taking trips to new places, enjoying new adventures
Seeing things up close as the soul happily stirs
Watching the fireworks burst into the sky
Bringing colors to life on the 4th of July
Cooking on the grill, on the deck in fresh air
Sharing good company, with laughter everywhere
Going to the beach, collecting shells in the sun
All of this and so much more, is summer fun!
6/15/18
*Entry for Summer Fun Contest. Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
The first, carefree summer day a somnolent tune doth swagger
An intense heat hovers then releases a permeable dagger
Sapped of inner resolve, at noon retired to shaded bower, a truant
lagger
At eventide, resuscitated from the cool respite, from my shielded
lair did stagger
The next, searing day shorn of shirt and shoes but with my dignity
intact
I alight from my screened porch assured that my taut skin would
the beaming waves refract
A soothing, afternoon breeze ripples; my chest hairs retract
Traipsing along, unencumbered by the elements, I skip through the
manicured tract
My bare feet absorbing the ground's subducted heat
Disheveled hair, a fluttering mane swaying to my hip hop beat
The soft grass blades caressing my knobby ankles like a velvety
sheet
A winged armada skirting the shock waves pulsing from my
reproaching feet
Treading into lush, green garden cloaked with ingratiating beams
of light
Each, leafy tent bowing paying homage to the sun's infernal might
The pleasant aroma of waxy corn leaves and glossy ferns my
nostrils delight
The sweet scent of mellow berries and ripening mellons my taste
buds insight
At dusk, my barefoot odyssey abruptly comes to an end
A grizzled, sizzled wayfarer, to my artificial estate I slowly wend
Blithe journey my spirits exulted, but pain in my tendered parts did
the sublimity ammend
A cherry red shroud covering a weathered rind looking for soothing
balms my misery to tend
Motivate
I have been carrying a planet on my back for so long, it’s still trying;
Because every time I make it to near the top of Mount Mind,
I am destroyed; taken from mine.
A seed falls from a leaf,
As a once upon a time witness,
To the being that was, or is, or could be me.
I am stood here waiting for a reason to carry on;
But I cannot carry a world when I stand alone as one.
So I will share my burdens with you all;
Help me to help another, or help another,
If you hear them call.
We all need good neighbours,
I must get to know mine,
But time flies!
People lose belief in everything,
Shaded beneath the mango tree.
Nothing even matters anyway; right?
I just cannot see a way into the light.
I cannot motivate, nor can I hate,
When all I feel is in view for you to rate.
I cannot motivate myself to improve my health;
I need help to find a better way to leave this Hell.
Eating better, but still smoking;
I would laugh, but I’m not joking.
Fictional love behind the steering wheel.
Driving force in need of being healed.
We begin again too many times to make a difference.
Waiting on your world too many times to be of any consequence.
I took control of my own life,
By taking down the fences.
Waiting on your world to change.
Your TV no longer shows happy days,
When I am in need of being mended.
Waiting on a world,
Whilst I am trapped inside your zoo.
Without loving words we will remain as two,
When we should be as one;
Not gone.
One thought, one mind;
A sign of the times should shine.
Sing the sad tunes and remain in the dunes;
The claws in your back has not and will not be removed.
Skin too tough to ever be just right.
Life is our basic instinct.
The caged minds hide all their sunlight.
One move, one fall and all this goes away;
Away into eternal night.
This is no time for wishful thinking.
This is the only chance I have to live this life.
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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