Long Sunspots Poems
Long Sunspots Poems. Below are the most popular long Sunspots by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sunspots poems by poem length and keyword.
solely solar:
truly toddler sun crawling
on canvas of cosmos
five billion years ago
as protostar
formed from stellar plasma
of cosmic charisma.
spinning sun with solar system
revolving around center
of milky way galaxy,
fantastic but not fantasy.
sun flare in glare,
sunspots to spot in variance.
sun corona, outermost arena
to mesmerize.
sunrise to sunset
showering spectacular surprise.
sun scattering rays
cascading in opulence,
supplying energy, initiating life on earth,
to grow flora and fauna in diversity,
carrying evolution on earth
in beast and beauty,
displaying hues and tunes
in Nature on smart reality.
on human conception,
sun, a massive fiery whirling ball
of burning hydrogen :
another five billion years left
to exhaust its fuel
following the life cycle
of an ordinary star
tending to be a red giant
ending in white dwarf
obeying chandrasekhar limit:
it’s limited credibility.
yet !
startling fact to assimilate:
sun with its solar system,
a nano item
holding a trivial position in universe,
comparable to a tiny sand particle in sahara desert..
then !
where to find humans
blessed by energy of sun?
seems a fun.
I'm tired of love
Of standing on trees
Of lifting all of the heavy women
It seems, I don't really care
Sunspots, I sit there and stare
A log or a brick
A stick or a
Somebody come down with wings
Tell me directly what is to be
What road to take and I will walk
Maybe.
Sweep me away from
Our time in the gray
Leave leases and lesions and
laws, Oh! honeyed paws!
What bad bears we are
Rescind these sins till
Mays. End. Malaise. End.
And send someone down
Throwing bottles to the ground
Rolling flowers in the cracks
Smushing the joy back home
And out yonder screaming
Through the mist and the miles (Oh! lonely miles!)
Careless Wonder: Turn about!
The waves! Devils ears!
Your masts are so heavy
Your booty of silence. Of peace.
A piece of my heart.
Give this back.
Is all I ask.
Maybe.
Red pill, blue pill, old pill, new pill,
Each tablet has music you can whistle.
Side effects and brand ones—we all have a shot,
Vitamins and sunspots are our health dots.
From headaches to heartburn, we seek relief.
Medicine melodies, the rhythm of our belief
Pills, syrups, and creams—a symphony of care,
Our bodies are the orchestra—with each note, we repair.
Some are sour; others sweet or hard to swallow.
But each one has a chance for a better tomorrow.
A chorus of healing, a choir of health,
Medicine melodies—our hardship is their wealth
So let us sing along with each dose we take.
A melody of gratitude for each pill we make.
Without them, we'd suffer in pain and strife.
But with pills melodies, we can live a vibrant life.
The clattering fan
brushes the
hair from my eyes
And
through
sunspots
in clean window patches
I watch them
walk by
Do they see
What
I see
With the trees so delicately catching the wind
And
The
dew drops reflect
light from
its leaves
which clap and wave
with their long branches
almost to welcome us forward
A child
Joyously
pushes past
A muttering
couple
She reaches her tiny hands to the sky
laughing
to catch her red balloon
The wind
exhales
as the balloon dances
and bobs around
the people in the square
who fail to notice its invitation
She doesn’t fail to notice its magic
And tries to save it
From venturing into the unknown
BUT
the wind
hugs its tiny string
and I watch
as that tiny balloon falls into the great blue
abyss
I want to soar
like that red balloon
I want to escape
such day to day trivialities
But
who will catch me
and bring me back home
when I feel I have ventured to far
Shaking my head as a I awake from my daydream
I watch
as a lonely
windswept newspaper
is blown about
in each direction
Does anyone else see
How it like us
IT
Is just full of confusion
Aimlessly wandering
For
That place
To call our own.
I want to be that newspaper
Constantly fighting for control of
its destiny
and now
it sits solitarily in a patch of weeds
and
The
soil
absorbs its print
as it becomes one with the earth
i smile
because I shared a private moment
with
the
world.
Form:
To Erase The Memory Of You
To erase the sunspots of the mind,
The memories that are you,
The dotted sunshine through the years,
Enslaved in lover’s hue.
To rid the body of all the pain
And showers flooding through,
Grey clouds that dissipated
With your songs and rainbow view.
To have lived a life having never known
The warmth and deep connect,
The nurture feigned for access,
Prior to drought and harsh neglect.
To forget the madness of the love
And desire I felt so true
Would be the agony and ecstasy
In this garden made for two
To forgive and not forget
Is now all that will ensue,
But I forgive myself for loving you
For it wasn’t hard to do.
17th October 2019
Midnight Aurora
Lin, a Chinese friend giggled at my feeble, say,
pedestrian attempt at Cantonese,
the Chinese word for butterfly or dragon even moth
just vanished down the throat of one
so eager yet befuddled,
turning egg shell noodles under spit fire lanterns,
our laughter rose and fell amid the sotto voce banter now in train.
Me, the woodland boffin, immersed in esoteric marshland plant life,
the sort that rules the grand designs of green leaf activists.
Lin, the restless late teen nomad,
who had yet to sink deep roots,
often dwelt in backstreet fruit and flora stalls.
On occasions even flexing sylvan muscles
on craggy mountain tops.
Her flawless English honed through years of rough sea ferry ventures,
on holidays abroad in trendy sunspots,
at major meadow festivals where gaiety and buzz words sprout.
We keep in touch through text and pen as often as we can.
Meeting up is fun.
I hope one day my knowledge of those mystic eastern tongues
will stray beyond the basics of some tawdry travel phrase book,
the one I’m prone to cart around the world but seldom use
Contest : YOUR PERSONAL FAVOURITE
Date judged with N/A : 4 th August 2021
Renewable Radiance
Streams of clearest light,
Born of a star,
Splash across flaxen maize,
Beckoning tall sunflowers to follow
With their skyward gaze
Dashing through newborn dewdrops
Creating playful shadows
In the bouncing,
dappling,
flashing,
flowing
Golden glow of brilliance in bronze
Making freckles on upturned noses
Or fiery heat on skin neglected
Now captivated by smooth glass faces
In cycles of sunrise and sunset
To find a place in close community
Coming home to rest on rooftops
Turning midnight into morning
Bits of sunspots
Energizing evening
Seeking opportunities
To turn on street lights
Heat a winter night,
Light up empty highway signs
Kitchen lamps in gathering spaces,
Where scents of stews
Float up from simmering pots
Sitting atop daystar fire,
To cool the breath of afternoons
Turning summer heat around in circles
Then ever giving birth to moonlight
Illuminating a garden path
Or candles
Twinkling
In the trees at midnight
Reaching out,
Waiting - standing at attention -
Begging to be used,
But not used up,
Gladly emptied out
Never tiring,
Never holding back
In jealousy,
No matter what the calendar proclaims
Or season promises,
Collected radiance renewable
Renewed
Generating energy
In spinning allegros
Freely given,
Freely breathing,
Inexhaustible,
Joyful
Gift and giver.
I’m twisted
into submission;
admission
to true world
of imaginary breeze
and coconut salt.
I’m a seed,
slipping into sand,
letting go.
The wild sea’s
crest and trough didn’t swallow me,
silence me - my thoughts.
Roots, a muse -
rest and recreate;
drudge baggage
ditched at shore.
The dunes spoil me with their grit
and pink hydrangeas.
Sunglasses
recover my eyes;
sunburn writhes
on my skull.
Hair in free fall, snarled and damp,
like anemones.
An assault
of coconut breeze
in true world;
admission
into twisted submission
of relaxing waves.
The sunspots
of Summer outbreak.
I bring pail
and shovel.
I shore up castle, today,
midst whirlpool of moat.
The true world
tries to interfere,
as I splash
cruel eyes.
My hands and feet completely
disappear…left - write!
Crumpled Thoughts
They wait – in hues of vibrating silence -
Like leftover orts of rumpled paper wimples
On creased clandestine journal pages –
Bent scraps of wrinkled inspiration
Smudged moments held in their one moment of time
Musings fading to illegible
Lost chords in treasured memories of radiance,
Sunspots of incomplete illumination,
Or crumpled creativity on paper wings
Snapshots of raw moments in tormented terror
Footprint creased signatures of incensed avenging angels
For abandoned ragged beggars in pencil
Of partial tidings
Wearing incomplete tatters of disturbed serenity
Waiting – lined up – for their turn to speak –
Vying for resuscitation
As actors reading their scripts –
Players auditioning for ideas
Of ice castles throwing off anonymity
Whistling like nonchalant sentimental journeys
In phases of the moon begging for words
Libretti confronting notes wandering in obscurity
Impatient plans in fits of tantrum’s flight
Residue of fantasies for
Gypsy fortuneteller’s phantasmal globes
Rescued by ruminations tender muse
With the gift of time to take them from her
Nurturing womb into full life and maturity –
Blinking in the brightness of real time
Bits and snatches adjust sight from consecrated darkness
To lumens brightness of looming footlights
Now taking bows in postmarks of epilogues -
Snatched from wondrous oblivion -
Profiles sketched in hope’s penumbra.
1-11-21
Contest: Crimpled Thoughts
Sponsor: John Lawless
Solely solar: Truly toddler Sun crawling
on canvas of Cosmos five billion years ago
as Proto Star formed from stellar plasma of Cosmic charisma.
Spinning Sun with Solar System
revolving around center of Milky Way Galaxy.
Fantastic but not fantasy.
Sun Flare in glare, Sunspots to spot in variance.
Sun Corona outermost arena to mesmerize.
Sunrise to Sunset showering spectacular surprise.
Sun scattering rays cascading in opulence,
supplying energy, initiating Life on Earth,
to grow flora and fauna in diversity,
carrying evolution on Earth in beast and beauty,
displaying hues and tunes in Nature on smart reality.
On human conception,
Sun, a massive fiery whirling ball of burning hydrogen
Another five billion years left to exhaust its fuel.
It will follow the life cycle of an ordinary star
tending to be a Red Giant ending in White Dwarf,
obeying Chandrasekhar limit: Its limited credibility.
YET!
Startling fact to assimilate:
Sun with its solar system,
a nano item
holding a trivial position in Universe,
comparable to a tiny sand particle in Sahara Desert.
THEN!
Where to find human blessed by energy of Sun?
Seems a fun.