Long Style Poems
Long Style Poems. Below are the most popular long Style by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Style poems by poem length and keyword.
Moonlight across the tranquil ocean,
Will provide jewels for your crown.
Deep cyan colors of the sea in motion,
Will create blue velvet for a royal gown.
I will create a vision tender with grace.
Such expectations I have, you’ll be mine.
Resplendently beautiful, so fair of face.
My Princess of loveliness, a lady so fine.
A prima donna of style as you gayly dance.
Beguiling as you converse so witty and clever.
For me there’ll be sweet innuendos of romance.
You’ll win hearts but I will be your love forever.
Dearest, only a figment of imagination it seems,
And sadly we will be together only in my dreams.
Sponsor Sotto Poet
Contest Name Sonnet
19th May 2023
Over the moon, words abandon the sky
Sky in its own loneliness knows the game isn't over
Get to untie that logic behind such faithful scope
Scope of practice beeping naturally smooth to get
Know, whether or not the night is bright, moon remains bright
Bright the horizon eyes can't view, doubtful miss to know
Cough, cough the same old way in style
Style got is a littler good than touchy cough
Learned anew to travel in the midst of emergency
Emergency furnished to defeat the purpose not well learned
Beneath the ground, silence roar in darkness
Darkness kisses each moment time drops one beneath
Growing up days before revelation really unique
Unique but knew plague is no more growing
Unless we have found wrath in hidden Meadows
Meadows are cool but if hot maybe it had, unless
For all I know, I now know that it's nothing
Nothing but wish to know reasons OF WHAT FOR
Then I'll be there to pick up my key rule
Rule of law- ruling at every angle then
I used to see, how blind my eyes have being
Being able to consider others and not always I
You too may be we once lived there for PEACE
Peace of what s/he can't actually say of you
But everyone do know and wish it continues
Continues to be a part of us in every sphere but
Maybe we should never wish to have such nice thought
Thought of miserable change in air, maybe
Dangerous weather considered not good enough
Enough is capability to gear the flight so dangerous
Features are awesome, but to describe each is tedious
Tedious to analyze the info lying in cool features
Somehow it seems I forgot
Why should I write each emotion I’m feeling
when no one will stroll to my side
An unending song filled with passion and yearning
now praying for one to confide
Dreaming in colors that glow in a meadow
where butterflies float on the breeze
Alongside a river of flowing desires
meandering under the trees
Why take my pen from its brown leather casing
and place it on top of the page
Spilling some ink in a nice cursive fashion
just ends up revealing my age
Where no one will read as they go passing lightly
in search of the next future star
While here I will sit at a desk made a plastic
away from wherever you are
Can you explain in a poetic sentence
why words can’t be read like they feel
Is it a style or a strange way to tell us
that lacks in enormous appeal
Comments won’t come if you stand slinging arrows
with targets right there tween the eyes
So it would seem that the retaliation
would come in the form of replies
Don’t put too much in these phrases I’m writing
for I am just bored half to death
Wondering if I would post something stupid
now pausing to inhale a breath
Would some of you come just to see what I’m thinking
or figure my thoughts matter not
I had an ending to this when I started
but somehow it seems I forgot
~~La Danse de la Poesie~~
The Dance of Poetry
A great dancer knows, the pain and practice
Of stretching, all the body, every limb.
A great dancer never disses a great dancer
as a lesser being.
I will never be a Baryshnikov with divine
style and grace.
I am lucky, if I get my feet in first place!
I am but a beginning poet, like a dancer who,
knows it's best to follow master poet's cues.
Without reading and knowing classic poetry,
I'm just a punk rock poet blowing my own horn.
at the poetry tree.
Dissing past masters as ignorant will in no
way improve my performance.
No, not in the least.
So if I want to tour jate or batmanteaue,to
fly with art across the page to you~
The classic poets, indeed will I read.
And never insult them as lesser than me.
That's cutting my own poetic brain and
not allowing the fullness of my growth
In this grand terrain, we call, poetry.
Panagiota Romios
4/17/2019
~Jesus~
(Senryu)
Jesus died and rose
He did for sins of this world
Our hope rest on Him.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2013
April.16.2016
So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13 (NIV)
-“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16 (NIV)
- Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer
Romans 12: 12 ( NIV )
-The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”
Exodus 14: 13 ( NIV )
“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”
- Mark Twain
~Author's Notes:
The "Senryu " (also called human haiku) is an unrhymed Japanese poetry form or style.
Happy Easter everyone !
Wearing whirls, swirls, paisley too.
A jazzy, snazzy, bell bottomed you.
Slinky hip huggers with large chunky belts in style.
White Go Go boots that never walk a country mile.
Faux fringed jackets, fake fur vests, tall high boots too.
Gypsy skirts with mismatched patterns of every hue.
Please let your belly button show, my dear.
Wear the tightest jeans to accent your rear.
As long as your jeans flare out as wide as a skirt
And drag along enticingly in Woodstock’s dirt.
Homemade embroidery on blouses, and dainty braids.
Unless you deem to do an Afro, beautifully made.
Tight mini-skirts that show off your thighs.
Nehru jackets with high necks are a prize.
Headbands made to match every outfit.
The 70’s was strutted. Don’t you doubt it!
Vietnam War in black and white, every night on TV
Burning bras seemed okay for everybody but me.
Hippies and flower children seemed pretty wild.
To me in the Midwest, pregnant with child.
Go ahead and make the first move,
but take care
One or two spaces so I can move
to my square
Game of life, I’m queen defending
my king
Pawns, so many seem such
insignificant a thing
I’ll stay in my castle with my
bishop for a lil while
As my knights ride to fight the
enemy in style
I’ll rush about you see when my
king Is in need
Watch for your next move, hope
I don’t misread
Sacrificing so many pieces attempting
to defend
Not a game it’s so real, you see
I won’t pretend
Soon the enemy will deplete my
trusted army
As they attempt to not let
anyone harm me
My role important, my moves
so unrestricted
Game of chance while their moves
I’ve predicted
I hate losing pieces but it’s for
me the Queen
End goal is to sit beside my
king ruling supreme
I’m very loyal down to the very
end, I will fight
Even when I watch fall my last
trusted knight
Each piece to the end will
fight so valiantly
Dying a noble death against those
who challenge me
I must keep my kingdom from
being overthrown
A mind game challenging so many
great unknowns
Hoping my king is truly the one,
and its fate
Because if not...it’s games over,
check mate
10/2020
A Contemplative Sojourn Through The Breeze
The continuity of perspective required for accurate conclusions
The ingenuity of the reflective inspired by immaculate infusions
The co-morbidity of defective desires for considerate inclusions
The plain fluidity of the introspective fires of commensurate confusion
Why does the momentary delight fade with contemplation ?
How do we constantly engage to fight instead of inspire by elevation?
Why does she remain so utterly contrite when faced with adulation?
Who do they call upon during the night for their sacred consummation?
Awash with notions of consideration and correction
The lost devotions of invocations and invention
The frost that’s frozen upon the intonations of his intentions
The cost of the broken connotations of what it means to defy convention
To revoke what has been given so freely and without shame
To envoke the art of living when one is refusing to play the game
The bespoke art of precision as they are refuting the burden of blame
Renegade perspectives of innovation and pure style
A tyrrade of correctives and incantations that beguile
To invade the environmental incentives of the plantations on the River Nile
As they pervade the vast directives of the ramifications of their denial
Convoluted insinuations of thought that permeate time
Polluted imitations that have been bought by the unrefined
Disputed limitations of a population in decline
Refuted deliberations on the observations of these signs
Once when I was a child
My reins were held by my parents
This pony once led by their rants
Now that my mustang is old
My reins still slip from my grasp
I go where this beast goes
Divorced from my old mare
I am no longer noosed
Years of service make it wary
When my child returns at half-time
He takes my reins playfully
Taming my mustang without a whine
When he dismounts for her
I lose sight of my destination
Someday, I'll bridle without a bother
Then I won’t be ridden by my beast
The saddle will find its place
Someday my racing heart will cease
Together we’ll limp to the finish line
Our eyes on the journey before us
Not fixing my gaze side to side
This bronco will find its stride
Confident in my equestrian skills
I’ll cross the line in an easy ride
Then no longer reign or be reined
Ready for the glue factory in style
As Jesus cries he is finished
There is a time in life that swims
To chill, to relax, to enjoy everyday
There is nothing bad having whims
If you aren't by chance going to delay
Not until you say or bid goodbye
Growing up stagnancy do decry
A stylish illusion fantasized
Without scheme, you've synthesized
To comply with defeat's spy
Forgive the unknown, that do deny
Gear up the style, that do standby
Leave dreaming in fantasy land
To win, to celebrate, to toast right
As night is made for romance unplanned
Songs command acts under moonlight
With the cheerful malice of trial
Yet fear dreadful respect in denial
Filming failure in chance check
That placed tight hands on your neck
To testing your stand in pure retrial
Forgive letting go, that sings of futility
Gear up patience, that chorus feasibility
The air waves; from the palm tree so high
That makes you dream of the sky
Is a possible game not tough
Courage is what's not enough
To clinically mount the air in your style
Not until you say or bid goodbye
Growing up stagnancy do decry
A stylish illusion fantasized
Without scheme, you've synthesized
To comply with defeat's spy
Forgive the unknown, that do deny
Gear up the style, that do standby
Troubles melt away as they light your way
To keeping you on the rail of success each day
To possess fading sorrow
And reshape glorious morrow
Linking plans of grace to focus of may
With the cheerful malice of trial
Yet fear dreadful respect in denial
Filming failure in chance check
That placed tight hands on your neck
To testing your stand in pure retrial
Forgive letting go, that sings of futility
Gear up patience, that chorus feasibility
Amen!