Long Synchronizing Poems
Long Synchronizing Poems. Below are the most popular long Synchronizing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Synchronizing poems by poem length and keyword.
Dozing on a hammock
strung between two towering palms
with the sky above-
color washed in turquoise blue
and the waters below
reflecting that heavenly hue,
you came to me causing ripples
of joy, sailing in a whimsical dream
like the strains of a symphony
churning out endless vibrations
in my solitary heart
you showed up
all too sudden
like a rainbow on my vacant sky
after a cloud burst of cloistered grief
to blaze it with iridescent shades
Your smile
embalmed my bruised spirit
with the coolness of a summer drizzle
falling, like manna
over starved Israelites
in their arduous odyssey
through blistering sands
Your passionate breath,
spewed on my face
bore the scent of opening buds
in the mazy tangle of wild creepers
growing dense in nearby woods.
Your amorous whispers
fell in my ears
with the sweetness of the melody
from *Krishna’s flute
with Radha near ,love sick
her lips curled in an immaculate smile.
Your soft footsteps
like the jingle of a court dancer
echoed in the silence of my soul
with a hundred evocations
As the jingles
came nearer in synchronizing rhythm
I held out my arms
to clasp you in tight embrace
and reel you in frenzied jig
But you vanished,
vanished,
with the swiftness
of bubbles rising and breaking
in a beer glass,
leaving me to my desolate zone
The sky overhead had changed
into another shade
Still I lay in mid air,
with my eyes sealed tight
to re-live that whimsical dream
once again!
*According to Hindu Scriptures, Radha and Krishna were so devoted to each other that their romance remains a love legend of all times. Radha would fly into a state of ecstasy with the songs flowing through Krishna's flute…..
'W' New Poems Poetry Contest- Whimsical
Sponsor- Constance La France
Within the first slivers of platinum moonlight, fireflies flicker.
Diamond dust from a bygone comet streaks by, piercing electric skies,
whilst a balmy August twilight enwraps an aging porch.
The gleam of a single candelabra casts light upon
harlequin-green ivy that tangles around worn banisters,
while primroses grow through cracks in the weathered stairs.
Creaking tones of oaken rocking chairs serenade hushed crickets.
Silhouettes of frolicking barn owls coruscate,
as the aroma of fresh peach pie floats along, synchronizing with the zephyrs.
Nostalgia-infused memories materialize, then vaporize like morning dew.
Your resounding laughter gets swept away,
like a swift current pulling transient sands of time with it.
Ephemeral remembrances are all I have of you now—
momentary glimpses through the Wheel of Time's mirror,
for it’s just the summer breeze rocking your vacant chair to and fro.
As the turbulent determinations
of everyday vigor
bellow through stratospheric circumstances
dancing amongst the clouds
you calculate life's extravagances
twisting beyond hierarchies
as leaf covered branches
twitter in space.
Gusts of wind orchestrate
like synchronizing ballerinas
flowing within music
strumming delicate harmonies
on roads less traveled
pecking at your brain
into rebel territory
determined to stem irrelevant
while you savor circumstantial
realities beyond comprehension.
Masquerading through conventions
you enjoy the day's delicacies.
Billie Holiday said
The artist of soul never sings a song the same way twice,
the artist never sings the same song twice.
This sounds good and right to me,
as soul artists and lovers,
great optimally effective researchers and scientists and communicators,
never live a day,
a felt relationship,
a poem,
a dance,
a sacred ritual or tradition
the same way twice.
As we learn to stay within our zones of synergy,
we can never go quite back to yesterday again
because we live through this fluid imagination
and experiential place
where life's co-relational time
flows a bubbling nuanced inside/outside integrating stream
never organically sung as mere mechanized repeat,
each moment learning now's renewing voice
from soul's most resonant
remembering
strong-hearted
full-minded
passion-embodied space.
Soul sings inside songs
of out-streaming full-hearted
improvising
synchronizing voice.
As the final glimpse
of the sun leads into
an everlasting spectacle
of twinkling dreams,
peeking through
turmeric traces
of an amber aftermath,
I listen to the
nesting nightingales
croon nostalgic lullabies,
and search for a
celestial ray
that would illustrate,
the beginning
of
butterflies
within
my glass heart.
When twilight is
just a
mere mirage
in the distance of
my destitute mind,
and tune
of your
laughter
reverberates
in rhapsodic refrain;
a raspy rhythm
ringing
through
rustic breeze,
whilst the
whistling
wind waves
to the
dandelions
dancing
to your
delicate drumbeats,
scintillating stars
fall upon
our silhouettes,
scattering pieces of
who I once
used to be-
within pulsating
flesh and bones,
before I felt the
warmth of your
cosmic whispers.
Now initials of
your amethyst
song is the
penultimate prefix
to my path
of
healing,
where
sentimental sighs
between us,
unveil
wordless
smiles electrifying
a classical crescendo;
awaiting beneath
instrumental wings.
I count the
flickering jewels,
splattered across
nocturnal
night-skies,
questioning if this
is
another
start
of a
weary winter?
or is this just
a seasonal distraction,
intoxicating my
procrastinating pen,
or is your voice a
heaven-sent elixir,
to soothe the satanic
seas evaporating
black salt-
drizzling toxic rain,
upon my
porcelain choir,
synchronizing
a symphony
of soulmates destined
to
reunite and rewrite
a
roseate rendezvous.
Maybe,
fate reignited
to align
the emerald
glow between
you and I,
Maybe, I’ve long
been a wanderer,
on a quest to reach
the rainbow
swirls
above your
musky garden,
where background
music is
the poetry woven
from your
cryptic ink.
You’ll always remain
the
last maestro
in my carnival
of chaos,
amidst the loudness
of screeching demons
chattering within every
darkest sheet of
dreary December.
FATHERS DAY
Father, My Dearest Father
All along I received you so close to my heart:
To adore, to honor and to love.
Happy moments shared with you are treasures of my life.
Emotive urge surges as I feel you in my soul.
Reminiscences of your love and care are great assets of mine.
Song of your affection resonates synchronizing my heart beats
Deep dolor engulfs me as I think, you had passed away.
Advices imposed and Morals taught by you, I pursue in each step.
You are my Idol, Philosopher and Guide.
05/13/21
First Place
'All Yours (June 4 ) Contest by Brian Strand
Uncanny inexplicable silence surrounds me unexpectedly,
when in the centre of a noisy demanding crowd,
every bit of sound evaporates, fades in total darkness,
people around me, familiar and unfamiliar ...
I perceive them in action - laugh, or converse,
watch their bodies moving,
contours of their faces changing
synchronizing with their voices,
but their gestures are illegible movements to me.
don't catch a word they say....
complete silence envelops my mind,
just watch some silent characters in a highly emotive drama!
When silence speaks to me among a roomful of visitors,
not leaving, I disappear from the place...
my absence doesn't create any void,
saffron imagination dawns on my dreamy eyes,
I am on top of a mysterious mountain where
a chartreuse waterfall descending with roaring noise
on the coral rocks,
halcyon water mirrors the serene emerald sky!
When silence speaks to me,
I imagine strolling on a harmonious village-path,
which meanders to unknown,
grass spectacular green, velvety soft,
and soothing, the tender touch of a doting mother
on her baby! mystifying sky leans on and whispers to me,
as if it has found its trustful confidant,
in that beautiful unperturbed silence, I only speak
to my own heart, which throbs pining
for a soul who had deserted me many years ago!
Rains came and washed the hot summer days
sliding to winter freeze on the autumn bridge
seen in the burnt ginger sky turning azure cool
adorned by the flotilla of swan white cloudlets
waving farewell to the south flying swallows.
Verdant canvas gets coat of gold in the woods
ripened days of leaves dawn in riot of colors
while shaken by the unsteady northern wind
they cling to the shrinking stems waiting to fall
on the cinnamon soil of settled summer dust.
The curling leaves twirling by my window pane
I hear rustle in morning breeze on garden path
the swish synchronizing with tune of robin song
heralding crystal hues of the sunburst horizon
reflecting autumn’s golden glitter on dainty dew.
May 30, 2019
Where fleecy clouds, on rosy-quilt meandered,
Motifs amethystine wowed tangerine horizon
Embroidering on magenta arc, designs crimson,
Beckoned by blushed-musings of marigold sun
Spraying amber gold, on burnt-yellow attire,
Scattering breaths sapphire, on periwinkle fire;
As tunes chrysanthemum, sung of eve’s desire,
Choreographing themes of dreams romantic,
In symphony of colors shimmering on ripples
Sprinkling twilight on tapestries of blue ocean
Painting azure fabric, in aureate brushstrokes,
Quivering our essence, embraced in passion.
This is where we were, when first-time eyes met,
When sight of love fueled embers of romance
And smitten hearts spoke through lovesome glance,
Admiring from bridge, sun’s glorious farewell;
Where we stand today, as heart-rhythms resonate,
Synchronizing with love, and melodies of sunset.
Line 2: Tangerine sunsets composing chrysanthemum hymns
Before the sunrise the night was long.
It was then I decided to hear a song.
It was Beethoven’s 9th that began to play.
As the night slowly retreated before the day.
Warm soft glow over the ocean did gleam.
Colors on the horizon seemed like a dream.
When the music began, a slow intro was sung.
Like the sunrise, it was a taste of things to come.
Ocean waves stretched out from the sun.
Synchronizing with harmony they did run.
Like the majestic coral waters that did abound.
The choral music enveloped me in sound.
The molten sun over the waters did break.
Inside such pleasure, my being did ache.
Alongside the sun, the ocean, and the song.
In this place...at this time...I did belong.