Long Shapes Poems
Long Shapes Poems. Below are the most popular long Shapes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shapes poems by poem length and keyword.
While the Pink stays unknown to our Smith without sight
He can easily tell that this voice holds might
The steps flash twisting, metal shapes into view
Wires coil, tipped with wriggling hands two
The hands grab a hold of our Smith's flubby frame
Multiple attempts before a successful claim
The hands spurt fluid from each shiny palm
Causing all our Smith's muscles to simultaneously calm
Unable to move, his digits attempt to gain freedom
As a response, his teeth begin to travel in tandem
Up one shoulder and up the opposite
To try to see if the hands can be bit
Nibbling fierce, bending bolts and screws
But they won't budge, no matter how many chews
Our Smith accepts that he has been physically matched
Then begins to speak, to find a way unattached
"WeLl, I gUeSs YoU hAvE mE iN yOuR sTeElY gRaSp!
WhAt WoUlD pErSuAdE yOu To LeT lOoSe YoUr ClAsp?"
Pink flashes again, this time freeing an entire step
And from underneath, a Machine repeats without pep
"You are a fallen Smith, a missing Link from your Chain
You will now be judged, whether you are able or lame"
A face made up of a visor and puppet like hinges
Begin to shudder and shuffle in starkly Pink flinches
"Hold still, fallen Smith, or you will be thrown away
Regardless of our decisions, there will be no delay"
Radiant rays rate our Smith's quality and potential
Each part it burns on his body is consequential
"AaHhHhH iT hUrTs! It BuRnS! pLeAsE sToP! pLeAsE..."
The Machine doesn't listen to our Smith's crying pleas
It continues its job, disregarding all pain
"Looks like you are worth some extra strain."
He paces through ardor.
Ardor with scorched feet,
Feet in fire for love, forged in blaze.
Blaze that does not burn
Burn but brands his personality.
Personality with resolution,
Resolution hindering infamy.
Infamy he swallows completely.
Completely to make his son grow
Grow uninjured, undefeated.
Undefeated, he positions
Positions at the pit’s verge,
Verge where anxiety and destiny are vivid.
Vivid is the quietness of ransom,
Ransom as the price no one will grasp.
Grasp how he risks the world.
World where his boy might become open.
Open to choose the trail,
Trail avoiding him stagger
Stagger through the dark unaided.
Unaided as the father strides,
Strides but shapes a trail through stone.
Stone by stone, he builds a road
Road that is not bumpy but good and superb.
Superb becomes that man.
Man who walks not for his grandeur
Grandeur as a guide his son’s hand.
Poem by Mugisho N.
Men are desires, untold stories,
Women are secrets, adorned in dreams,
Two different universes, searching for each other in the night,
Traversing each other's mystery, bewitched and hunters in a subtle chase.
They are the kings of the unknown, which they uncover step by step,
Architects of silences that shelter the world’s secrets,
While they, weavers of dreams plated with gold and pure scent,
Find in the closed eye of longing, unnamed paradises.
The body can forget shapes and kisses, forget caresses,
Leaves behind skin echoes, outlines that fade away,
But the soul always retains the scent of true love,
Remembers the shiver of the first love, does not surrender those cherished to oblivion.
It knows and celebrates the storm of bygone times,
Reminisces under the starlight of passionate embraces,
Love is a spectrum that does not age, nor does it set,
It stays deeply crusted in corners of the soul, that cannot be erased.
Such is the tangle between body and soul, between memory and dreaming,
Men weave their desires into the map of great secrets,
Women pack their secrets in the garment of desire, of waiting,
And in this ethereal dance, poems are written endlessly, forever incomplete.
Because the body can forget, it may move on,
But the soul preserves love like a shining star,
It never forgets whom it has loved, it keeps them close, does not recede,
And in dreams and in silence, it forever bears them, through days and nights of searching.
"Where do we poets go?”
I wish I could know
and trace a path of glory
which I admire in awe.
*****
The words I do follow
into them resides my soul flow
A journey of two lovers
of no full stops and commas.
No introduction made
the bond is intense
a connection of no pretense
oblivious of the first thread
of the weaved word.
No main body
could develop a true love story
or bring it to a closure
a sustained presence
that assures a genuine composure.
Dare I ask the poet
“Why did you in love
fall?
as the words when spilled
elevate your all!”
Or shall I wonder
if for each other’s company
you crave?
a willing surrender
a wonder about which
you rave.
In the realm of words
the poet, longs to and dares
fashions of words
shapes and shades
breaking all the rules
for the love of a poem
beyond the norms.
*****
With every work of art
a true part of the soul we impart
we seize the day
of pleasure and pain
and in life
earn the name of human.
*****
“Where do we poets go?”
I really don’t know!
I just have my pen to fuel
walk an entrancing path of poetry
and aspire to carve a shining jewel..
November 28th, 2020
"Where Do We Poets Go?" Silent One Poetry Contest
The Lego of a little boy was scattered about.
Unsuspecting feet would land followed by a shout.
Oblivious to the fuss he caused as well as frustration,
Those tiny Lego pieces fueled this boys imagination.
His eyes full of Amber hopes and dreams that he would be
The greatest builder and designer the world was gonna see!
On his annual trip to Lego Land his mind would explode.
He'd go back home inspired with ideas by the load.
He'd push together different shapes. Occasionally he'd hiss,
Flustered, for some wouldn't fit or pieces he would miss.
Throughout his entire life his Amber hopes would flare.
Although he did not live his dream, his Lego is still there.
Some may think he's childish, but is it so bad?
The old man loves his Lego, for at heart he's still a lad.
~South Florida~
(Free Flow )
The temperature is rising
We're in the hottest days of summer
Heat and humidity in the air are soaring
Sometimes for days the rains are just pouring
This is summer with all its days full of sun and fun
People strolls the beach, and swim far beyond the sand
Beachcombers spend there their time till the sun goes down
Surfing and sunbathing is all a big part of their fun
You see children running and playing
Some are so happy building sandcastles under the sun
There are people of all ages, sexes and shapes
Some are sitting, eating and laughing till the day is undone
These are the hottest days of summer right where I live here
Living in Florida for so many people can be a lot of fun all year.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2005
May.03.2016
Warriors become philosophical black
Assassins walk on water in fabric magic
Boots move quicker than the wind
Clearly invisible through vampire mirrors
Void of color, empty of human images
The night draws shapes on Ninja Lake
Reflects back vivid in shards of ice
Protecting natures shadowy body
Secrets blend in with Winter
Light objects gentle to the touch
Become solid as spy machines
Scramble into action
Move swiftly to the shore for battle
To attack the Samurai shielded in sleep
Dressed in snow, in honor, in mounds of white
Heavy swords rest, glistening by their side
Multicolored by moonlight, stranded in the sky
Lightning rods wait to strike at midnight
Only snores fill the silence between thin distances
A slice of life ready to be snuffed out at any time
Dragon stars spin like tiny metallic helicopter discs
Missed by inches through the bamboo covered mile
Some projectiles follow meadow birds in error
Exchange addresses that never return to them
Turn skyward with the wind in twisting flight
On the wing to chase birds only trying to escape
Before the lake sinks to new levels of depravity
Ninja and Samurai make mistakes then smile
Slice right through their most noble intentions
To serve God and country to the biter end
As blades pass right through invisible men
A few yellow leaves, diminutive bless.
The subtle birth of Fall— my eyes impress.
Verdant green—deep visual for my dreams.
The season’s frisk—Jack Frost snips at the seams.
Soon the froth of frisky leaves, everywhere.
The flamboyant tango, showering flair.
And oh…the burning Autumnal passion—
the sizes and shapes, bittersweet fashion.
I forget my bathing suit, bundle up,
vigorously jump into loving cup
of apple cider, pumpkin pie and leaves.
Season’s change, cheeky-warm, with knitted sleeves.
10/6/2021
Don't you cry tonight
"Give me a whisper and give me a sigh"
Those soft words following the emotions in your eyes
exhale poetry on my whimpered dreams
Take from me all that I can give while
reaching for that sunset…a distant prism of light
"Give me a kiss before you, tell me goodbye"
Soft lips in sad shapes, downturned towards darkened fears,
moist as they meet in wilted wishes
Walking away…a silhouette of that which I long for
as tears drift on silent zephyrs
"Don't you take it so hard now and please don't take it so bad"
To know this feeling, I swear I don’t,
still calling out in echoed chants flowing naked valleys
Hoping you hear, praying you smile, asking you to listen
before the moon fractures in cosmic sorrow
"I'll still be thinkin' of you and the times we had...baby"
Eternal visions find you and me, hand in hand,
dancing on quiet shores, melodic surf rhythms
In memories of what once was, what should be
and the stars drip into anguished teacups pleading
"Don’t you cry tonight…"
Written with a little help from the Guns n Roses song, “Don’t Cry”
The italicized lines are lyrics from their song
Hallow Eve to Candlemas,the sun now turning south,;November is
sombre,December dark,January,February cold and stark.Catkins litter the forest
floor,beeches shed their leaves galore.Gales melange the mix,as decay brings
nature's bionomics.Hexagon pointed stars move and shift ,into a patterned
powdered drifts.Rain filled days of slush and muck,webs on shards of gossamer
stuck.Twilight months in winter shade until the snowdrops matamorphise in the glade
shapes spread statuesque
foliage in Winter clothes-
melancholy me
you may hear me recite this haibun on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro
check out my short forms @strandpoet on twitter