Long Speckles Poems
Long Speckles Poems. Below are the most popular long Speckles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Speckles poems by poem length and keyword.
The power of a flower
long ago a seed was planted at the shore of a sea of men,
the days were long before the sprout showed for the very first time,
it was a lovely leave bud on a tender stem, learning how to rise
from the Earth it was once protected in;
as time crossed the sky in the shadow of the sun,
Its stem became broader, and roots became deeper,
acquiring much more than it once did before.
A gasp of nature,
what will it be?
a rose or a apple tree,
no one knows till
Its flowers bloom
from buds as tiny
as speckles
the power of a flower,
frail but radiant,
speaks of who you are,
reeasing a unique scent of personality .
Form:
In the palate of a rainbow purple is my muse , such depth, such splendour it entrances the eye it fixates only on it
This is the colour of great many things, it may be the lavender of lilacs, or the boldness of a ripe juicy plum , may be that designer plush velvety chair which up on you sit
Purple is represented by royalty on the crown it is displayed with regal attention one must pay
It can be found as amethyst so stellar in its purity , attractive to the bitterness of skeptics, set in the finest of jewelry there it lay
A colour like no other , it’s quite awe is displayed in the cherished summers dusk , that brings solace to the waiting mind
It pretties up the scenery of the naked forest and speckles it in kind
Sensory bliss , euphoric, a constant for a master piece work of art , unique with a pleasure so appealing for all to witness that the heart can see
A Purple Heart for valour, the pleasing touch of velour , the only colour of a vintage El Camino as on drives off into the sunset , purple it the muse for me
A swirling gold wind
Speckles of dust
I thrust my neck in to feel this
I am bewildered, a smothered vine
floating into the ending
but I want to fight
Want to get up and break knuckles and limbs
to spread seeds
and say I mattered
This is the time we’ll remember and I can’t forget
that man on the corner
How we’re all allowed dreams
and those who shatter
are lessons for those who haven’t slept yet
I’m closing eyes to remember the fabric
of the depth of Godliness
The heat in my chest, the badness
And I’m weighing the contents of time to find
where I should be standing
Tightroping on the thin line before it’s enough
and my promises are voided as bluff
I’m mourning
Wailing against the sepulcher of my birth
The tomb of my purpose
And the dead leaves that surround the contents of my body
are ‘raptured’
There is no more time
We’re weeping in the instant we begin again
But they have left us
with our own salvation in our hands
and nowhere to go
No peace to find sleep
Good mourning
Oh, Look not for the jewels in my crown.
Nor draped on throat, or on silken gown.
For my treasure-trove of gems,
lies buried deep, deep within me,
for you to see, for you to find,
for you to catch,
and mine the gems, deep within me.
A sapphire glows when I'm true blue,
Revealing things, I've wrestled through,
Curios of truths revealed, in deep veins,
Among the cold lies locked in chains.
A ruby burns bright when I forgive,
With heat of fires, none could outlive.
It flares when rage, fades to embers,
When a soul lost in dirt, remembers.
My diamond reflects what scars remain,
Its glassy face, catches glints of strain.
Its prism casts, rainbows in the sky,
Saying hope endures, for mates that try.
Opal swirls with emotions, riding afloat,
On a creamy sea of speckles I wrote
In ways, you could only read by chance.
When looking to me, with a sideways glance.
An emerald stirs what grace has grown,
In every seed of kindness its sown.
Its green shoot, in silence beams -
Hope for glory, in fields of dreams.
A moonstone plays with things unsaid,
It sways with hunches spread, instead.
Of what we believed to be foreseen,
in the gemstones, we've seen gleam.
Oh, Look not for the jewels in my crown.
nor draped on throat, or on silken gown.
For my treasure-trove of gems
lies buried deep, deep within me,
for you to see, for you to find,
for you to catch,
and mine the gems, deep within me.
Headlines of irony in life…
Human satire—cuts like a knife.
The unsinkable ship, that sinks.
Surrounded by peeps, yet alone.
Priests who ‘prey’—yet sins they atone.
Pastor fights alcohol, but drinks.
Tax czar who cheats on his taxes.
Animal fans—hunt to relax.
Abortion kills—with nods and winks.
Lifeguard fearing water—lauds land.
‘Football’—a game played with the hands.
Oedipus—breaks riddle and Sphinx.
Headlines of irony in life...
“Women”—they may now take a wife.
The steakhouse owned by a vegan.
Pedophile daycare directors.
Homeless real estate inspectors.
WAR—‘politics’ by other means.
Fighting drugs, while promoting booze.
Mutual consent—the new ruse.
Prolonged charity squelches teens.
Green tinted speckles on bluefish.
Hitler’s Grandfather was Jewish!
Men—affectionately called ‘queens.’
In life, every nook and cranny,
Holds the next ‘headline irony.’
Good, bad, or sad—it’s Uncanny!
June 2, 2018
Written for Connor Lotts' poetry contest entitled, "Hutinashro - My First Contest Poetry Contest"
“Whatsoever that be within us that feels, thinks, desires, and animates, is something celestial, divine, and, consequently, imperishable.” Quote by Aristotle
The aurora borealis glowed above us,
Beckoning us to the stars,
where meteoroids and asteroids challenge,
microgravity becomes our new reality.
stardust speckles our skin,
creating an ethereal glow.
I’m lost in your soul's windows,
diving into your solar plexus,
drowning in the Milky Way's whirlpool.
Our bodies sweat, cosmic confetti bursts,
celestial hallucinations haunt my mind,
my engine is ready to combust,
asteroid ashes and space dust swirl.
As our lifetime dissipates,
I stitch my lifelines to your skin,
in shimmering ink,
we await the encore of rebirth,
new bodies formed from cracked constellations,
descending from heaven's opalescent gate.
MIDNIGHT ROMANCE
The artist captures porcelain features.
Distinct - her eyebrows drawn with charcoal arch.
More beautiful then all of God’s creatures.
A cerulean splay o’er wedding march.
Refined ash of roses speckles irises.
Her crimson hair, on fire - the nose smells smoke.
The obsidian sky lured with french kiss.
Ivory skin lights up love’s leaning oak.
Adrift with life, she sparkles in white gown.
The artist touched by sweet hands of glory -
An introvert, she drew his smile from frown.
A writer, henceforth, she writes his story.
Absinthe quickens the sable eyes of groom,
As moonlight drifts inside the artist’s room.
10/31/2017
Moonlight Sonnet Contest
Sponsored by Dale Cozart
14 lines/Iambic Pentameter was optional
Syllables per line 10/checked by howmanysyllables.com
My cocoon tightens –colors tease
I am feeling for the air
A dim capacity for wings
Demeans the dress I wear
1099 - Emily Dickinson
Butterfly- A Glosa
My potential, held in a chrysalis,
I hide within a shadowed niche,
safe from mischief and the curious,
time stands still for my strange seed.
Buds of my wings, flimsy as flowers,
grow from leaf nectar with ease.
In grub miasma I am geometry concealed;
a rainbow of speckles
secretly forming in tiny degrees.
My cocoon tightens- colors tease.
Outside a gentle, scented atmosphere,
stirs memories of my once, segmented self,
sucked to wind tossed leaves, green
of their green, protected by dapple;
a puzzle of leafy camouflage.
I gorged there, naked and bare,
then wove around me a fine cocoon,
I was the spinner, and the loom,
quietly suspended now I must dare.
I am feeling for the air.
I am feeling for the sun,
cell by cell, a squeezing permutation
diligently shedding grub matter.
A framework, a pattern, a nectar tongue
coiled for long throats of flowers to come,
poised for pastoral whisperings
I struggle to unfold.
A magic, a beauty stunningly brief,
I hold, like all mystical things,
a dim capacity for wings.
My feelers, living dopplers’ vibrate
I shimmer, transparent gossamer.
I gather energy, I tremble for flight,
I tumble with garden blest wings.
A brief portrayal of immortal life,
is part of the nature I bear.
I flitter, I flutter I seem to be aimless,
a symbol of ever-returning things.
Only the fragile and delicate flower,
demeans the dress I wear.
For Line’s “ A Stunner 2017 Contest
The Glosa is a Spanish form based on taking 4 lines by another poet and expanding the theme.
I have entered this in 3 or more contests and was NA’d EVERY time.
Applicable Not Applicable Contests
Contest Judged: 6/2/2019 2:03:00 PM
Sponsored by: Richard Lamoureux
Placed 3rd
tight rope
Fear of the Unknown is
in my mind
The free-falling descent of my better judgement
I've gotten so high
The fear of falling is sickening
My eyes fail me
blind folded by nights dusk
On the edge
Tight rope walking
I feel a breeze from behind
Pushing forward
Dare I follow my dreams?
or in give in to it
theres a pounding in my ears
I teeter
And I totter
I hear a voice calling,
disguised in the mist ahead
with all my faith
and follow it
I don't want to be
a
lamb being lead to the slaughter
A few steps forward and
I faulter
there is a
wall
which I have built as my fortress
A
barricaded protector
that
Blocks my path
resting for a moment
to reconsider
this distrust and
I can finally see
I am my
own makeshift shelter
To overcome it
I must
shaking legs
ready themselves
to the unknown
regardless of the consequence
Pulse racing
as I ready myself for a running jump
Holding my head high
legs overreaching as I soar
pushing
the limit
with
Outstretched arms
exhaling the scent of Freedom
I descend
and
continue
to cross this border line
casting away
the blindfold of darkness
I see for miles beyond our horizon
Bright light peaks out showing speckles of angels wings
The sun stretches for miles
our warm blanket
and i see you
sunken in clouds
calling for me
Form:
Hello world
I’d like you to go away now
You’re a little too bright
And not enough wonderful
Give me a second
To adjust to the blinding
Hazard signs
Flashing in corners of
Unmarked alleys
Where shadows dance
Hand in hand
With Greed
Let me adjust to the
Gloomy speckles of
Fading starlight
As forgotten souls
Burn out - out of
View from the rest of
The Universe
Give me a minute
To wrap my newborn mind
Around the fact
That you use children
For pleasure
Let me learn that
Abusers deserve compassion
More than a family deserves food
Goodbye world
I forgot that you cared more about
Money’s birth than mine
He got a better welcome
And a throne to crawl into