Long Sporadic Poems

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


Premium Member Transmutation

Written: December 02, 2023

Quote "Without birth and death, and without the perpetual transmutation of all the forms of life, the world would be static, rhythm-less, undancing, mummified." Alan Watts

              ________________________________________

“we woke up early one morn, ego shorn
it felt as though we were in form reborn
nodes within stirred, boundaries blurred
our head and heart, with love concurred”

I deploy discursive divine depiction as a guide.
A gateway to Genesis, where it takes its side.
Unbridled and untamed, my voice may rise.
I pursued knowledge out of pure surprise.

Low-frequency vibes induce a shift in shape.
Scarcity leads to transmutation, of spare scape.
Alchemists transmute leads to sacred gold.
Metal sheds its genius luster in the kiln hold.

I waltz freely with doom in the gloom.
I inhale oxygen to marvel at life's bloom.
I endure steps yet disappear in the dream.
Structure is unaffected by the skill stream.
 
Love is my soul—my reason for existence.
Living in lavish love is a lifelong vow of diligence.
A mind, weaved with such insight, was so warm.
I flaunt my firm frame in this fabulous form.

When you are feeling opulent and egotistical.
Those who are dominant were miscible.  
Departure might induce an unfillable hole.
Descry a suitable way to purify your soul.

There are ecstatic and tragic days, love and hate.
No matter how tough we strive, this will be our fate.
Note how sporadic and fleeting life is; spot the stride.
Our days of tribulation bruised our noble pride!
 
Rather than succumbing to hatred and rage.
Turning negative into a rising trend of assuage
Let trust and troth tackle tricks and malicious
Such a restrained demeanor is truly auspicious.

Within, most consensus spans are wide.
It's all whim; scatter love and watch it glide.
Trust your scintilla—trek to the boundless sea.
We may all profit from sowing wisdom trees.

Conquered the most-dubbed landmass on Earth.
And yearning to discover raw levels of worth!
Death, then delirious with deceit, drove his life.
A wicked beast embedded himself in strife!

A susurrus sparkle to the shimmering love.
Enhances adieu strut below the moon above.
Breeze says, "Love on, my dear, and dance."
Across the trees, a gentle man's glance.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


White Noise

Blat , Blat
Sporadic gunfire firing back
Our way of life is under attack
And what I mean by that 
Is protect the Oil Refineries 
Protect Democracy freedom of speech 
Protect the Banks & Institutions 
Call the order to Fire Back at Will
Give them a taste of their own medicine 
Shoot to Kill
Kill Bill
&
Jack & Jill

Whoosh,  Whoosh
Mother nature's dirt is swirling on the breeze
Red Sand
Burnt Yellow's 
Orange Haze
The winds ablaze with Corparl Punishment 
Doled out by the Ministry of Environment 
If 1 is to believe the Kamikaze Pilot
Who just punched another hole into the earth's atmosphere 
Put down your Aerosol cans 
And travel bans for Airplane's 
And Rocket's 
Unless there Private hired in the name of
Spreading the Gospel according to
Renewable cleaner Green Energy 
Ride your bike not your car

Drip , Drip
Torture Tap
Pop the Champagne Cork 
Who cares if the reservoir runs dry
Let the poor drink cake
What else would the poor child have to fill up her day
If moved closer no longer was it a chore to collect water
Sell them gun's instead to play with

Sizzle,  Sizzle 
Bacons at an all time low 
It's now even on the Big Mac
Triple Stack 
For Beef is apparently now very bad 2
Lest us all become Vegetarian 

Father was a Coal Miner 
Out of work and down on his luck
Since progress decided to shut down the mine
Bad choice of Career 
How is Daddy now going to pay for his Beer & 40 Fags

His Father before him was an Old Fashioned Cowboy
Driving Herds of Cattle across the wild plains
Powered by Bourbon and Bean's 
Rancid and saddle sore
So too 1 day did progress for him come a calling 
Putting an end to his self worth and way of life
And with it his family taken on his journey into Alcoholism 
A violent man he became 

Relics of a certain decade 
Products some say Collateral damage 
When the Wheel's of Industry Stop
The Silence is deafening 
It's like the sound of a knife falling in an gunfight 

Shhh , Shhh
Quiet Please
The Library is now in Session
And so begins the Mine for Knowledge 
Speak of only Truth ,  Hope and Courage 

Don't be taken in 
Don't make the same mistakes History has taught us
What has War ever brought us but death
Fight rather for us than against us

Why be a Tourist ?

When you could be a Guide ? ?

Knowing Love

In crowded rooms I saw you but feared to say hello,
So I never invited you round for tea, instead I just wallow, 
In this life without love, I know not of what I have lost,
And each slightest sun beam cripples in the nightly frost,
Twisted branches hug me, creeping over lumbered limbs 
that know my smell, long for my touch and tangle in my sins,
I am desperate to break free from the blackened bark,
And rid me of this sombre paint, my colourless birthmark,
I long to smell the salty breaths of the wild and violet ocean,
But instead I numbly follow each life-long learnt emotion,
But frothy waves desert me,
And these twisted branches hurt me,
Though they say they love me dearly, they pierce into my sullen skin.

When I first met you love, I didn’t know what to think,
I’d been on stormy tides for years and I balanced on the brink,
I know not of what I am my love as I float with you beside,
And I know not of what I will now become on these tempest tides,
To take the risk of having you is to leave known loneliness,
But in this cloistered room my breaths unwillingly confess,
Your flowers bud from rotting wood in calm sporadic delight,
And blossom amongst dewy moss against a sunless fight,
Maybe we can share a brew my dear, a steamy cup of love,
“Please do not shy away from me”, sweetly sings your mourning dove,
But blooming orchids scare me,
And the roses thorns cling to me, 
Though I long for your touch my love, I am nothing without my kin.

You say you have always known me love, as though you were always there,
Like you were always at the breakfast table and I always had a chair,
You’ve bought me out of darkness dear, without shadows I cannot hide,
I feel you watching me as I sleep, from my one lamped, one booked bedside,
You’re with me in my dreams my love but not keeping tears at bay,
But now when glassy eyes run deep I’m no longer in the clay,
There will be times when I desert you and leave your loving hold,
But know I’ll always think of you until I am grey and old,
I promise to always love you love and I’ll always be home for tea,
And I thank you love for loving me though at times I’ve wanted to flee,
Now caring words they warm me,
And growing forests holds me,
Though we are new born friends my love, just now I love you love, yes always.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Not of This Earth

*Image of Child Sad Suffering provided by Pixabay.

Not Of This Earth
Poetic Form: Narrative

Asymmetric mistrals warp speckled vaporous pallidness toward rhythmless voids. Obviates an evacuating azure as a midday star pivots to a twilight qualm. Numinous absent souls of supine prying pupils, yon ethers sinister obscurities, caught in stained oblique ocular whites. Drunken sanguineous veins to gluttony as impish tinkers sporadic doubts riveting telltale images. Metallic aerials ousted the clouds to unperceived iniquity. 

Exhausting times since the alien armada infested Earth in a furrow of carnage. Abominable hordes disembarked, eviscerated whole metropolises. Hideous beings, an abysmal sight, smothered the remote vestiges of our civilized world. Cities ere their decimation had numbers reduced in fleeing desperation. The annihilation of life on Earth engrossed thoughts upon the scraps of humanity left. Ravenous creatures generating utter rampage to and abroad, slighting none to decay. Be they mortals or breathing existences of our lesser kingdom, perished in the bloodletting. Some kept as breeders for the succession of consuming time.

A cohort strung of plain folks, thrust as one in a nameless realm, sought ephemeral refuge in a subterranean hollow expanse. Bestill for the scarcity of fragile credence as the intrepid one, espy a grotesque glistening of crimson blood, secreting from the sheathed hoariness of fangs. Sentient rouses heedful footfalls per monstrosity exposed jawbone, that swapped shrill for snorts, neath laden eyes that had shrewdly scowling luminous orbs. Creepy anvils pierced hairline, afeared incus, sensitively measures close octaves, spurs the labyrinth's nerves. Alas, its vulgar pelt of bulky fur stretch hither and fro, bars clamors reach. 

Cavernous chambered partitions mimic as trepidation ebbs nevertheless. Unceasing progress to that bemused destiny, as anonymous atrocities, plague each within their shells, e'er crucifying the last semblance of their true selves. Ardent impulses seeping via their lithe ruby channels, crossing neath the bits of their betraying skins, as they escape the nebulous sepulchral. Beasts at 6 o'clock, tho' what unknown lurks yon pits facade, save a future yet to be titled.

2021 May 12
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Ambrosian Sycophancy

Written: May 13, 2023

3rd contest winner
                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lichen lilies lavishness,
outwardly shine as canorous core,
an idyllic sight of buds bursting 
a ballet of aromas filled the sky,
as dulcet spring hues dump down.
Butterflies seduce 
with trellised wings 
amid ethereal sapphire 
mist of Elysium,
I tossed my amorous nexus gloss,
countless metaphors emerge
an abyssal-rooted niche of insight, 
a sporadic charm is startling 
and delightful.
At sunrise, red orioles flutter
garden spring on my balcony,
ushering with cheerful chirps.
Emerald lime stains all that,
wild geese honk loudly,
ebbing from tropic migration
a cluster of violet fern flowers
zestful azure azaleas
vibrant daffodils are in bloom
fluffy tulips in all their glory
buoyant spring hues aurify the clay. 

Beyond that, there is no bounds
amid hypnotic Eve and pinnacle
from a charmed sight
my gaze is wide and riveted,
through this impressive display,
an exuberant plethora of shades
glistening on rain-washed skin,
sky-smitten, diaphanous blithe
melting into mesmerizing shapes
strange sights subdue my mind,
as my heart beats with delight,
emerging from its hushed cocoon.
a vision of ageless grace. 
 
Initiating sensory stimulation. 
witness the marvelous artwork. 
carefully crafted by a skilled hand
to bequeath a masterpiece
beaming with the spirit of love
a mesmerizing charm
a live sculpture in motion
& a pure symphonic melody
embrace a cosmic radiance
amidst a celestial daydream,
dazzling in a blaze of sequins
my heart is yearning,
an enthralling rhythm echoes within
optimism surrounds splendor
this exquisite ruffle relic, 
a morphing metaphor draws on forever
clarifying the layout of magnificence.

Beads of lilac amethyst
observe a lunar synodic cycle
debunking twilight
desultory musings
an auric haze wrapping
jubilant jewels are in motion
I am an awe-struck artist
weaving a quilt of love,
a dazzling aura of shining words
playing a whispering debate
under dulcet moon glow
In unique words,
stars are willing to shine for us
our love outshines all else
even most dazzling clusters,
an equally bright radiance
all over, a billion red diamonds
under oriental lily skies.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member My Scarlet Woman

Amongst the oaks and the maples and shrubbery so green
Runs a translucent flow, a stream so pristine
It's meandering contours hugging the land
Takes me back to the day, we met unplanned

The sky was pale blue on this hot summers day
Cotton wool clouds in mesmerising display
It's as if you could reach out and brush with your hand
This candy floss coating ceiling our land

Many meadows I walked through capturing the sounds
Listening to her marvels in cinema surround
Technicolour rainbows so radiant to the eye
Such beauty in nature, understandably why

I reach the turn-style that leads to the forest walk
Listening to the breeze through the trees as if they talk
These pillars of stature, as old as grandfathers years
Many stories they could tell, that would bring you to many tears

As I stroll through the leafy lanes, mapped out over many years
Trampled underfoot by it's inhabitants, badgers and beautiful red deer
I now reach the stream as I follow it's meandering flow
To a pool at it's end where past maidens bathed in glow

My ears now pick up sounds of singing and a splashing
Resonating from the pool, a glimpse of pink now flashing
A lady stands before me, bathing in the stream
Scarlet clothing in sporadic lay, am I in some kind of dream

I call out to this beauty as she turns and looks at me
Towards the bank she walks, and invites me in with she
Knee deep in crystal waters our bodies close in touch
My clothing now drifts away, the two of us in clutch

Into our eyes we both now look as blood flows through my veins
Her touch is soft and gentle, my hands now stroke her mane
Deeper we edge out as she floats and hugs my waist
The two of us in join in this beautiful serene quiet place

Our emotion creates commotion as our undulations reach the shore
Ripples of joy they are as underwater hands explore
The coldness incites a reaction, in pert and firm caress
In delightful blend we release, two souls in loving press

Kissing we reach the bank, on her summer dress we lie
Sighing in breathless spoon, we stare at the green canopy sky
Many, many hours have passed, lying naked below the peeking sun
This is the day I met my scarlet woman, the day our lives began





http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-11.php
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Beinn Nibheis - Scene 1

I sit and pause, looking at the sky blue ceiling above me. White vapour cotton wool clouds
gently float like water lilies on an upside down pond. My humble seat, an igneous rock
from the Devonian period. A glaciation past has moulded this comfort to rest this weary
climber. I am in fortunate delight as this skyscraper of old can turn nasty with nature.
These marvels can unite and lure unsuspected hikers, and draw them into a weather world
they have never known. The gulley's and faces of this quite wonderful Munro hide
challenges and dangers for all who dare climb. Many have been lost as they become
disorientated, as natures weather closes in.

The ascent route to the summit on a day like today is quite wonderful. The beauty of the
glens, with their sporadic mix of andesite and basaltic lava mountains, rival many a range
on our fine planet. Many colours explode on the surrounding canvas. Greens and beige's,
greys mingling with red granite masses. Screes are in evidence, a sign of the range ageing
as natures seasons take their toll. Plant life carpets the slopes, where grasses of sorts
mingle with the purple and white heather. Ferns from a prehistoric age fan out catching
the breeze, like Sea´ ferns´ in the ocean.

As i climbed, at various intervals i would close my eyes and listen to the calls of the
wild. The sporadic bleating of sheep, as if echoing through the glens. Crows and their
hooded cousins fly sorties looking for carrion of such. Suddenly they scatter, as royalty
makes a welcomed appearance. As majestic as the King of the mountains can be, a Golden
Eagle glides on the thermals. His subjects looking on from a distance, for fear of
angering him. Rabbits, lizards and even sheep and lambs, bow down in whatever chambers of
safety allows them. As graceful as he arrived, he leaves. Slowly but slowly, the lookouts
of the species declare their haven a safe zone.

This climb has certainly given me a thirst, as the thinned mountain air leaves me tired.
Nearby a small stream offers a weary climber a much needed tonic. This pure fresh
translucent chemical substance quenches my crave, with a gentle splash over my sun beaten
face, i feel refreshed to a point.




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-3.php

The Saddest Days

And there are not enough cubicles and grey paneling that 
sugar rock candy lights won’t cut 
the sapling eye from its still decline into Abyss.

And there are not enough sad thoughts wars rapes to gratify inward hatreds which never walk the feather but mobilize the thousand marching whales across an entire worlds sandy interior. 
across every turtle egg.

If there are secrets below us we are too many 
too numerously traveling 
a cacophonous tandem that secrets could survive our drumming lull. 
Surely we have broken all our secrets with our song. 
I hear only ever what anyone always forever has known.

I have no doubt anymore. 
There is only sand below.

No. The saddest days are behind in mouths of our trekking bedded with pruned flowers who wilted passing along the snaking vine of history which coils and dies as mast and pointed finger at every moment we recall our saddest days.

But these days are not polished aged silvers of goals and just conquering, but like a sword waved through crowds at night where the tallest fell in heads and became mountainous cultures of sporadic hands where finally at this moment cresting backwards 
we see our ladder in dawn 
and it is blood. 

Every possible minute from every now onwards.
Each point along stretches back marking the infinite fence of beginnings lamely ticked from the chain which links them. Such that as time leans in the depth of reflection, in the understanding of casual existence, of tragedy, everyday comedy — the noon will bite its appearance, and we will miss our lunch.
Dry and sour throats work along this real thing.
Where there was once water and loss 
Is the leftward image of death in decline.

We are not so caring as to want for our lives.

For as long as we want others, and acquire others, and drift from others — who were once familiars — only to drift back and want again, and not be in haste of charging this social pattern with contempt of experience;
Of laughing at us,
Doubting our depths,
Then there is hope.

If not, then we shall continue.
But we will not have our sadness.
We will dry our tears from each other
And mask the body to wed from time.
This tomb is a forever we would not escape.

It is a death amidst the sand.

The river awaits.

Premium Member The House of Madame

It was a very long day
And a long way from home
Country back roads
Skies of chrome
 
Tiredness kicks in
I need to stop
A house up ahead
I'll stop and knock
 
The door opens
Pleasantries in greet
Invited inside
Tired and dead beat
 
The lady of the house
Offers a drink
A small wine i say
As she replies with a wink
 
We sit and talk
About our pasts
Sad stories
And past laughs
 
The evening draws
As i my head starts spinning
I feel elated
Is the evening beginning
 
Music is played
As i drink more wine
Energetic in dance
As i feel mighty fine
 
We end up dancing
Our hands in places
Lips touching
And not just faces
 
Slowly my clothes
Start to fall to the floor
My hands on flesh
I've never seen before
 
Her body so shaped
Even through hazy eyes
She takes my hand
To her glittering prize
 
Her hands mould 
Around me so
My head like a carousel
In spinning mode
 
I seem to know what i am doing
But unable to stop
Like I'm on top of the world
And never to drop
 
The feeling of joy
Surrounds my brain
Elements of ecstasy
Like sparkling champagne
 
Naked and set
My body flows
In body arousal
Our nakedness shows
 
The kissing gets frantic
As we sigh and groan
On the floor we writhed
In sporadic moan
 
As i lie there
I recall the lights
My head in confusion
Now I'm out like a light
 
I'm awakened early
By a knock at the door
The lady of the house
In breakfast chore
 
I sit there eating
As my body aches
Scratches and marks
Was i in partake
 
I have no recollection
Of the evening that's past
I can recall driving up
And that's the last
 
I say my goodbye's
As i thank my host
She winks as i leave
Looking as white as a ghost
 
I get in my car
And i head of home
Stopping for gas
No more wandering roam
 
I speak to the attendant
About the house where i stayed
A lady so kind
How at home i was made
 
He turns to me
As if i had taken a turn
There's been no one there for years
His face showing concern
 
I stand in momentary shock
As he tells me the news
The marks on my body
And the bluest of bruise
 
All the way home
I try to recollect
About the previous night
My thoughts can't project



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy2.php
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The House of Madame

It was a very long day
And a long way from home
Country back roads
Skies of chrome
 
Tiredness kicks in
I need to stop
A house up ahead
I'll stop and knock
 
The door opens
Pleasantries in greet
Invited inside
Tired and dead beat
 
The lady of the house
Offers a drink
A small wine I say
As she replies with a wink
 
We sit and talk
About our pasts
Sad stories
And past laughs
 
The evening draws
As I my head starts spinning
I feel elated
Is the evening beginning
 
Music is played
As I drink more wine
Energetic in dance
As I feel mighty fine
 
We end up dancing
Our hands in places
Lips touching
And not just faces
 
Slowly my clothes
Start to fall to the floor
My hands on flesh
I've never seen before
 
Her body so shaped
Even through hazy eyes
She takes my hand
To her glittering prize
 
Her hands mould 
Around me so
My head like a carousel
In spinning mode
 
I seem to know what I am doing
But unable to stop
Like I'm on top of the world
And never to drop
 
The feeling of joy
Surrounds my brain
Elements of ecstasy
Like sparkling champagne
 
Naked and set
My body flows
In body arousal
Our nakedness shows
 
The kissing gets frantic
As we sigh and groan
On the floor we writhed
In sporadic moan
 
As I lie there
I recall the lights
My head in confusion
Now I'm out like a light
 
I'm awakened early
By a knock at the door
The lady of the house
In breakfast chore
 
I sit there eating
As my body aches
Scratches and marks
Was I in partake
 
I have no recollection
Of the evening that's past
I can recall driving up
And that's the last
 
I say my goodbye's
As I thank my host
She winks as I leave
Looking as white as a ghost
 
I get in my car
And I head of home
Stopping for gas
No more wandering roam
 
I speak to the attendant
About the house where I stayed
A lady so kind
How at home I was made
 
He turns to me
As if I had taken a turn
There's been no one there for years
His face showing concern
 
I stand in momentary shock
As he tells me the news
The marks on my body
And the bluest of bruise
 
All the way home
I try to recollect
About the previous night
My thoughts can't project
Form: Rhyme

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