Long Spiraling Poems

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


Premium Member Fancy

Fancy

Fancy rushes by in silk dancing shoes,
Stars within her steps,
All plumes and feather boas 
Leaving clouds of spangles, bits of sparkle,
Floating in the air -
Trails of rainbow ribbons,
Sequins grinning as she passes,
Ignoring glares of mauve and mustard 
Clinging to sashes scattered with ducklings,
Buttons and bows hanging on 
In the spinning tornado of free floating ruffles 
As bright colored polkadots tumble ‘cross flowing capes
While beads and bangles, diamonds of dewdrops,
Strings of pearls,
Waltz with bright and shiny spangles
To bounce alongside wild menageries
Of mismatched 
Plaids that look cross eyed at checks 
To flirt
With spiraling pin strips in diagonal dances
Begging exception from lacy flounces,
Romping through grids
Yellow pink and purple green,
And twirling hems of dizzy fringes 
Revealing pearl studded petticoats 
Giggling at gossamer scarves
Under the spell of a magic wand decorated
By glittering hearts
To cast a kaleidoscope of spellbinding colors
Throwing greetings to wide eyed stares,
Amusement ogling
Fancy frolicking with Whimsy at her side -
Hugging, embracing, cousin Serendipity -
Ambling down the broad tree lined lane
In gloves and floppy hats with paisley bands
Or rhinestone tiaras
Tripping toward teatime
With scones and clotted cream.
fun


Premium Member When Underestimated

I wonder if a difference
between a mature
health care bodhisattva
and a less experienced
potential peace messiah

Could be uncovered by noticing
a wisely curious genius
gathering all sacred passionate values

While sadly believing 
s/he can access only the wrong
insufficient
benighted 
disappointing
unwoke audience

And/or these personal cherished gifts,
enlightened powers,
have ripened at the wrong cultural time
for acceptance
in a deeply wounded
weaponed climate
of narcissistic
anthrosupremacist discontent;

A depressing
wounding 
isolating experience
that EarthTribe is not ready
to receive these sacred wonders,
this profound meaning,
sacred win/win resolutions
to stubborn win/lose secular problems

Of insufficiency
mortality
disease
trauma
unease
stress
anxiety
distress

Political repression
economic suppression,
lack of positive
health wealthy global impression.

While a healthier
more resonant Bodhisattva
serenely celebrates
compassion's ecosystemic resilient wealth
already at Right and Left hand

Potential to no longer divide
EarthTribal humane audiences
from Earth's sacred journey performances
into divinely gifted co-empathic meaning

Between personal power space
and politically enlightened timeliness

Seamlessly reconnecting
in-between our humane place in salvation history
and ecosystemically redemptive 
divine revolutions,

Daily spiraling spins 
of Earth's empowerment
around enlightening Sun

Centered synergetic,
universally co-gravitating
unitarian ego-systems
of nonviolent spacetime,
win/win bodymind
inside/outside 
deep and widely shared
communications

Of One egocentered integral
mind-full web
reflecting ongoing revolutions
within an active not not Zero 
universal expanding
yet not extracting system

Divinely vast
timeless communication
sacredly unfolding

Abundantly underestimating 
Healthy EgoLife needs
are already Wealthy EcoLove wants
deeply 
widely felt,
integrity's potential 
co-redeeming value.

Premium Member The Bipolar Tree Of Life

In the corner panel,
there is wisdom’s stoic face
she glimpses two leitmotifs
anticipates in the lover's embrace
her Egyptian demiurge beliefs 
draped in internal paralysis
prepped in anxiety of inner toils                         
of verminous void, an empty analysis
Seeded branches of goldleaf coils
they reach for the distant stars,
certain the sky was made to be entered
uncertain what the dynamic interplay draws
between abandonment and chaos centered 
over a noxious malignant blue moon's gnaw
atop the tricked out terrace in Vienna
outside the castle's canopied balconies,         
painted moods leap colors that swoon sienna
jilter’s jitters capricious can’t ease
Flora sweeps over the underneath, not even
Mati’s aegean’s blue and aesthetic white   
concentric circle or any charms zinced of Zen 
can ward off downcast eye scans left and right 
the black bird spiraling arabesque 
a memento mori of mortality perched
Its red eye, a pin of hidden fire blottesque
Its cows are shadow whispers besmirched
From the borderlands of my breaking mind
From the edges of my reckless whimper 
From my storm-torn splitting, undefined
begets perpetual yearning, as simpler
Eye-like rosettes evoke cycles of life tiers 
In this, my blue period, I paint everything gold 
An untarnished brilliance mirrors 
the unchanging of God’s radiant nature told
Its divine purity keeps me from insanity
from the unsettling, unforeseeable bends,
an existential uncertaninty
This tree bares the fruit of life that blends
never knowing where it will take me,
Heaven, Earth, Underworld’s conscience
and a future inherently unpredictable 
Indeed, there’s opportunity 
salient for growth and resilience
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ekphrasis

Amber Nectar

The glass she placed down on the table
She would have another now, if she were able

The pain melted for just a little while
This amber liquid could make her smile

Her life was spiraling down and down like the drink
Round and down, but she thought she would not sink.

Inner strength she knew that she possessed 
Would it save her when she was put to the test?

The pains the problems would all dissipate
She would show them all, if it wasn’t to late.

This amber nectar she knew was just a crutch
As the last straw, the drowning man will clutch.

The dregs in the glass, they are smiling now 
Tempting her-fill me once more, you know how.

“I  make you feel better, most of the time
Go on take another sip, it isn’t a crime.”

The man at her side put his hot hand on her knee
Squeezing it, “I’ll get  another in and then we will see.”

You get on outside the customers are waiting
Get out and work now, there’s no more debating.

You will earn what you drink, that’s what you desire
This amber nectar is now all you require.

You know nothing in this life ever comes free
Now get on out there and earn  money for me.

And with a last sip this saddened lass
Drained the now painfully empty beer glass…

Entry for the "And with a sip" contest by Paula Swanson
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Silver Slippers

Silver slippers sliding off her feet, sparkling heels,
Suspended beat of the air, the feel of surrender
to the pumpkin skies, the rise of parting souls.

Bare feet, barely touching the stairs; the tip toes
of spiraling rails. Her midnight blue gown swooshing,
swaying, twirling. The moon glittering like her tiara.

Poof, like magic, she’s disappeared, as his hands
fondle one of the shapely shoes; perfect though
they’d been used in romantic tango half the night.

The cool night air still holds her lips, her breath,
the essence of her charm, her slippers. He dare not
turn back the clock - hears its melody chiming.

Her timing was impeccable, almost laughable, as
the princess-dolts had already stepped on his toes,
their knees creaked, and all were wildly anxious.

But she showed up at the top of the stairs,
suspended time, then descended the winding
way, all along lifting his eyes, biding her time.

The only son, ready to take the throne -
his palms were wet, his knees trembled,
love at first sight, before she even spoke.

She didn’t disappoint. She could sing and dance.
Where did she come from? He’s too entranced
to ask, but as courage comes the clock strikes.

and she runs
away like a ghost…


Untitled

Defeated as I stand on the shores of my voided mind. 
Lost in the dark depths of this darkness, light impossible to find. 
Picking up the pieces, I can no longer keep myself composed. 
Cursed, it seems all good has always been opposed. 
I’m nothing but barren, misbegotten. 
Abhorrent behavior caused me to be forgotten. 
Left alone to suffer, my fate is inconsequential. 
Doom looming over, this crisis is now existential. 
Dead I stand with no will to grow. 
Behind my mask, the truth I won’t show. 
I’ve grown numb, again I’m reeling. 
Spiraling rapidly, eviscerate all feeling.  
Memories eradicated. 
Wretchedness allocated. 
Fuel to ignite a lifetime of despair.  
Contorted visions love to torment and scare. 
Weighing me down, this unbearable gravity. 
An eidolon, I’ve succumbed to insanity.
Rage festering within, battling with my own mortality. 
Deranged thoughts begin, diminishing my mentality.
Spiraling down to my end of my rope, life is dissolving. 
Lost all essence of hope, the abhorrence is absolving. 
Manifesting my own demise.
I’ve become everything I despise. 
Walking through life with no hope, no faith. 
Walking through life, all I am is a wraith.  
A ghoul, walking with nothing left to lose.  
Living a life that is the definition of a ruse.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Gospel Rewrites

I think, and sometimes fear,
we have two ways, maybe more,
to read the four holy gospels,
and any sacred scripture,
and any regeneration/degeneration story
of creative tension,
win/win sweet spot future aspirations
midst win/lose historic raw spots
of past experience.

We can read Earth's inspired articulations
as a book of spiritually correct answers,
removed from complex historical-cultural context
in a move toward fundamentally correct creed development
for moral
and political
and economic
and ecological correctness.

And/or
we can listen for Earth's expirations
and inspirations,
reading and listening to naturally spiritual correcting questions,
embedded in universal historical
and uniting multicultural content
of fundamentally healthy development
for resiliently robust climates
and cultures,
timeless times of spiraling revolutionary win/win
ego/eco-logical balance corrections.

If we too readily approach sacred scripture for morally correct answers,
we are likely to forget
divine purpose seeks better,
more inclusive,
inviting,
transparent,
vulnerable, 
courageous and curious health questions.

Premium Member Spiraling

I unraveled to you at a huge loss.
it didn't take long to see 
how much that word vomit cost me.

Now I'm spiraling and I can't go back. 
I can't get my life back on track. 
where do we go from here?

I can listen to you all day long 
but when I try to say how I feel 
it goes all wrong. So I try to write 
it down in a song but the words are empty.

Now I'm spiraling and my words won't fill 
the empty space, and I feel so ill. I can't 
take back what I said, This is so unreal. 
I'm pretty sure I broke us.

So I'll just be here to listen to you, 
I'll be your friend like I always do. 
But if I opened my mouth fill it with a shoe, 
I can't go through this again.

Now I'm spiraling and my words don't rhyme, 
I think about you all the time 
But now I know I can't tell you that, 
it has wrecked us.

I thought we were different but there's 
too much you can't reciprocate. Life with 
you will be a lonely fate, I don't do good 
when my feelings are bound, wound so tight 
I can't touch the ground.

Now I'm spiraling and You can't be here, 
I need you now but you've disappeared. Your 
my best friend but I've no one left to talk to.

I wish I could make the day go away, like 
it never happened the way it did today. 
I said so much I shouldn't have said, 
now without you I feel dead.

Now I'm spiraling so just let me die, 
I said too much and I don't know why. I don't 
know how to get back to you. 
We're miles apart now.

The next time I see you i'll be wearing a smile, 
and you can tell me about your day, share your hopes 
and pains because I'm your friend but you'll never 
know just how much I won't say.

Now I'm spiraling and I'm holding it in, 
I've muted my heart so you won't hear me, So 
you won't feel me, So you'll still 
want to be near me.

©SamHarty
© Sam Harty  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Spiraling Reflections

"If someone listens, or stretches out a hand, or whispers a word of encouragement, or attempts to understand a lonely person, 
extraordinary things begin to happen."
~Loretta Girzartis                                                
----------------------
reminiscing reasons 
ruminating rhyme 
pondering reality
recalling thoughts sublime

never-ending pain 
unremitting sorrow 
evoking one recurring theme 
a farewell to tomorrow

exhausted from the hunger
disabled by the thirst
consumed by each and every loss
will ‘better’ make things worse

thoughts embracing 'freedom' 
dissipating pain
awaiting the tranquility 
after so much rain
----------------------

"I have learned now that while those who speak about one's miseries 
usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more."
~C. S. Lewis   
                                                            
"Burden" (Lyrics)

Let me carry your burden
If something’s not right I will let you know
Like the paint that’s drying on a heart that’s broke

Let me carry your burden
Get you back on a high when you’re feeling low
When the weight’s too heavy but you won’t let go

Come to me my brother and I will sit with you awhile
Pretty soon I’ll see you smile
And you know you will
No matter how much you're hurting right now
You know that everything will change in time
So let me carry your burden

Let me carry your burden
When your might’s on fire but your mind is cold
And you’re fanning flames that won’t keep you warm

Come to me my brother and I will sit with you awhile
Pretty soon I’ll see you smile
And you know you will
No matter how much you're hurting right now
You know that everything will change in time
Let me carry your burden, O brother mine

Let me carry your burden
Come tomorrow you’ll be right as rain
It’ll quench your fire
Wash away your stains

Come to me my brother and I will sit with you awhile
Pretty soon I’ll see you smile
And you know you will
No matter how much you're hurting right now
You know that everything will change in time

Oh I just might see it in another light
Got no dog here in the fight
I could carry your burden
O brother mine

Songwriter: Foy Vance
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Cul-De-Sac

the good

The doors to my mind and heart
circle as revolving doors.
A peek inside and you see
happy memories and joyous events,
the loves, and lifelong friendships

A cul-de-sac, though a dead end,
has a circular finish, a merry-go-round
that accumulates happiness as it spins
into a cloud of beauty and nature,
compassion, gods, and faith.

The breathless moments in life,
birth, newness, novelty, exuberance
in being, living, experiencing
laughter, butterflies, and springtime
within my soul, my gratitude.

	the bad

The doors to my mind and heart
circle as revolving doors.
A peek inside and you see
the pocks of the years that came 
to leave their soured, sadistic truths.

So, like a cul-de-sac you may enter
but the exit is the same as you came.
A Ferris wheel, past the highs and lows
of lost hopes, of murky dreams that end
with more questions than I will answer…

A dead end with death as the prize
for endless dreary days and noxious nights
of sorrow, sadness, misery, and grief
with no hope, no desire, no ambition
faith gone and forgone, abortive.

	the ugly

The doors to my mind and heart
circle as revolving doors.
A peek inside and you see
the sear of anger and revenge
spiraling apocalyptically.

The cul-de-sac where giant wind turbines
turn and churn and gnaw at my insides
generating incompressible turbulence 
that amasses until it ruptures, spewing
rage and outrage that I will honor…

In and out, inescapable, dead
like my heart, my soul black as coal,
seeking retribution for perceived
wrongs against me, ill-timed and
sanguinary persecution.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace