Long Synthesize Poems

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


Premium Member What I'D Like To Give You Is An Ounce of My Perfume

fragrance of yesteryears distilled from heartache and joy

mixture of entropy and cohesion scented in hopeful aroma

	sweat from wanderlust of adventure

	tears from emotional advancement

	blood of hard work’s injuries over time

	fears contained and turned into vigour 

	petals ground into an effusion of love

a medley of rose-tinted lenses and reality’s patched spectacles

a truth serum of honesty kindness and unshakeable compassion

the knowledge that one’s perfume blends with compatible skin

	smell of freedom to mind our souls

	salve to soothe blisters and calluses

	tincture of longing and tangible peace

	composure of hard-won harmony at last

	array of butterflies collecting honey dew

just like myself you had to endure the stench of past injustice

tribulations trials errors betrayal and displeasure of suffering

have been hurt by flavoured malodour of other’s transgressions

had the dubious benefit of having to turn up your nose to escape

stink fetour and mere existence in order to synthesize essence

	balance of reason and heartfelt emotions

	waiting for yin yang seeking a perfect fit

	a mate best friend mirror spouse and lover

in sack cloth silk linen and satin sheets in a

bodouir graced by passion and pheromones

kisses of sweet pleasure rapture and satisfaction climax together

wet lips follow the path of mountains rivers splash and nurture

fan the flames in which fireside ashes mix with ember and warmth


in candour I have no magic potion until our perfumes merge into one


A Mini World With In Me

My internal secret kingdom is in my soul 
                                love is in my heart that loves all 
                           righteousness is in my perfect conscience 
                            courage is in my lung to defeat all dark
                            my wonderful thoughts rest in my mind 
                         that synthesize my desired beautiful dreams
                                    never thinks bad for others 
                         tries to bind all with a soft chain of love only 
                      my legs decide to reach my own hidden Paradise 
                                    hands work to maintain that
                                 I love my mini world with in me
Form: Lyric

Keeping God - Search Simple

When I look back as far as I can see
through the past of my Earthly memory
I cannot find an absence of belief
or faith in single, loving Deity

I do not know of life without a Lord
hymns on Sundays, singing every chord
However, through a trying adult phase
I turned away on my own proud accord

Although I still believed, I was in pain
Along with ancient anger - Abel, Cain
Temptation put upon Adam and Eve
Then told in Paradise could not remain

I witnessed others select, pick, and choose
particular scriptures that they could use
To back their case, justify, or rationalize
My glowing flame of faith became diffused

Entered theories of physics and science
led me toward Old Testament defiance
In prayer, I now addressed "The Universe"
And on personal God put much less reliance

Exhilarated by Quantum Mechanics
I put on hold mere Biblical semantics
Less literally, I clung to verse of youth
And traveled through a phase of my own antics

Now, when I try to synthesize it all
Everything I've come to know and can recall
It all comes back to Love and Consciousness
Hence, this is where I'll settle ... though Self so small
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Heat Source Hunger

Wonder not
if my thoughts are thrilled and twisted
daily and deeply by the albums of your ways,
I succumb severely to the impulse of imminent interplay
so dumb with joy, grateful for the fusion of our fevers,
I've never let you leave my mind,
you haven't finished eating your portion of my heart,
there is so much more for you, still in my chest, on my eyes,

I am your rare happiness,
that bare beast of a woman's best distress,
trigger your storm sirens with a single drop of Goodbye,
serve you with the most sensational sadness,
replenish your youth with an admiration that won't die,
knowing that I am not a makeshift man, nor a loyalty within a lie,
that I'll punish your pulse with peppered pleasure
because I can, because I must,
pull your hair just to hear those breaths beg for big flares,
treat the smooth and sweet lascerations of love's lament
butterfly cut into the surface of a girl's search for sincerity,
we get intoxicated on performance of personality,
buzzed beautifully from believing in the addiction of adoration's affliction,

We know we can handle one another's hurt
as warriors bleed hard because they sell themselves the sacrafice,
that we can process history with humor by breaking the shame of blame,
synthesize epiphany with sympathy to nourish symphonies of Divinity
we realize that intensity is the regal implement of our tournament, 

I like it when you tell me the tough truths,
that you want to be loved for more than one reason,
that being respected in segments isn't enough,
that he will never be me,
that words can outlast the disappointment of distance,
that the world overwhelms you when you most expect,
that sometimes you'd rather be a heart attack
before being a pretty song or a favorite memory,
I understand your need for absolute affection, absolute attention,
lets allow our love to be confusing, dazzling, on the verge of villainy, 
it isn't steady as a sleeping heart beat
or ready for celebration like a " gee wiz " graduation,
it is our Love, and its undefinably volatile and lovely,

Your cosmos gives a question that feeds one answer,
that love is ours, safe in the arms of Armageddon, 
I remember the ember of our future
spazing on the hearth of fresh earth,
don't ever miss me Babe, just keep lovin me -

J.A.B.
Form: Ballad

Formidable flourishing fiends

Formidable flourishing fiends...

harangue since landing 
yours truly immersed 
in a dream-like 
fiercesome state of war,  
not quite a dream 
can be described 
as a "hypnagogic state" 
while virtually in Singapore,

where Katy Perry 
namesake of a lion doth roar
noise amplified courtesy dissonance 
while nine inch nails synthesize 
scraping across chalk board
evoking discordant soundcloud 
foo fighting beastie boys 
comprising a quatuor.

Socked away within
cerebral nooks and crannies
house mailer daemons
inconveniencing yours truly
i.e. an Indus das scribe
hub bull mendicant
bullying jimmying,
jump starting, joy riding
junket at breakneck speed
disregarding dangerous signposts

warning reckless (heedless) highjackers
speeding stolen heavily
sedated body (mine)
slap happily, obliviously,
jauntily (devil may
care attitude) careering
across rubble strewn
bombed out stone age terrain
gunning engine like
there's no tomorrow

zipping past crumpled
suspended abridged abutment
jarring sole abducted,
bound and gagged one tramp (me)
hurling over edge of cliff
temporarily free of gravity,
(albeit an infinitesimal eye blink)
between life and death
rapidly descending in accordance
with laws of physics,

when suddenly motion stops
as if thee Earth stood still
freezing all life forms
held as if invisibly tethered,
when ghostly debut appearance
courtesy Rod Serling
rattles of his trademark narration
"...fifth dimension beyond
that which is known to man.

...This is the dimension of imagination."
I resort to aforementioned loose analogy
to approximate mental state of limbo,
asper...this man falling to Earth
minus parachute on par
with crash test dummy
an absent firmament
to feel securely grounded
held stock still,

when moments before plunging
pitched head over heels...
only to find this mortal,
either entering or exiting
somnambulant state
only groggily awaking
out of deep sleep
falling out of bed
singing hup bout poor lovely bones.


Premium Member We Could Call It Peace

We are awash in a world of colors…reds, greens, yellows…blues.
Each color is unique…
each with its own distinctive hue.

And by themselves they are quite beautiful…
when we see one we’re transfixed
but we can’t deny the beauty once the colors have been mixed.

When the sky is blue it is beautiful…it’s a pleasure to our eyes
but what a beautiful mix the colors make as the sun’s about to rise.

Or when the sun begins to set in the days evanescent light
and the colors synthesize harmoniously…as they usher in the night.

And there must be a heavenly reason…
after the darkest storms in a sky overflowing with rain
a rainbow arching across the sky is the mix of colors that remains.

Sunrises, sunsets, rainbows have proven…they have shown
that each contains a beauty…creating a color of their own.

Which leads some of us to wonder…
and others of us to muse
Doesn’t the beauty they possess arise from the mixture of their hues?

What if we saw each other as a mix of colors
no matter the day or night
a beautiful blend of colors…instead of just black, yellow, red or white

Would that alter the way we feel?
Would our love and acceptance of each other increase?
If we could see each other as a blend of colors…
We could call that color…Peace
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Little Place By a Fountain Rich

If only I had a million or twenty
Perhaps a billion that would be plenty

Then I could build a house 
by the fountain of youth
I would drink from it daily 
until I am short in the tooth

From my picture window 
I would watch unicorns
My Roses would all be perfect 
without any thorns

No need for rushing
Away from life's fast pace
The best of the best 
is that I would see your sweet face

We would live forever
At our youthful best 
We'd travel from home
To the East or the west
But when we feel tired 
We'd just go home to rest

To the South or North
We would never go
We'd prefer tropical gardens
Where warm waters flow

Money might not buy us happiness
Still it would be better than okay
If we could live in paradise
and not have our youth slip away!

For then we'd give away money
For of it there'd be no need
Those who have little
are the ones we would feed

We could synthesize the water
Give everyone a drink
Install special fountains
on every bodies sink

So to make this dream happen
A million twenty or billion three
Please won't you all send
Your extra money to me!


For Rose's where would I live if I were Rich contest.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member FIESTA WARE AND OUR FAMILY TREE

I was putting away some Fiesta Ware the other day when, noticing all the colors in front of me
I had to stop and smile at how they reminded me of our family tree.

I love our family tree…love every leaf…love its branches one and all…
love how it is painted all year long…in colors of the Fall.

I’m proud of the colors of our family tree…and as each new branch extends
how easily those colors synthesize…how beautifully they blend.

There is a kind of magic in how our colors come together to form this beautiful symmetry.
knowing underneath those colors lies the heart…the true magic of our family tree.

We share each others highs and lows…and we’ll go to extremes
to support each other’s hopes…to encourage each other’s dreams.

We find the more we do this…that our tree grows strong and tall…
and we find the colors of our tree…though beautiful, don’t matter to us at all.

I could probably end this poem here…but I think it only fair
to go back to where it started…with our Fiesta Ware.

I love the diversity of each plate…the different colors one and all…
love how our collection is permanently painted in colors of the Fall.

How food that’s made with love…always will taste great..
no matter which color bowl we choose…
no matter which color the plate.

That’s why Fiesta Ware reminds me of our family tree…
because whether its the Fiesta Ware stacked high on a kitchen shelf
or our family tree standing tall…
when love is holding them together…
their colors do not matter to us at all.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member MY EYES

There are many wonders of creation in this body that houses me…
One of those many wonders is my ability to see.

To take in all the sights around me…for my brain to record and analyze….
is the wonder…is the beauty…is the essence of my eyes.

My eyes help me synthesize many aspects of my life…the big…the vast…the small
Allowing me to enjoy everything from the oceans, the mountains…the rainbows…
to a simple portrait on the wall.

From the largest elephant on the land or the biggest whale in the sea
to the humming bird, the firefly…the butterfly…the bee.

My eyes allow me to see love in the faces of my friends and family…
and if I want…to linger there a while…
to see the beauty in a single flower and the innocence of a baby’s smile.

And when it’s time for my eyes to rest…when slumber is their theme…
the darkness when I close them provides the backdrop for my dreams.

Once they’ve had their nightly rest…in the morning when I rise
I know the day will be filled with sights I’ve seen before
Mixed every now and then…with an astonishing surprise.

Which is one of the reasons I go to sleep contented…it’s part of my regular routine
knowing how in the evening I will dream about the sights that day my eyes have seen

And why I wake up happy…most mornings as happy as can be
excitedly awaiting the day…and the sights my eyes will see.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Like Holding On To a Cloud

I once thought that being an adult meant being a child was no longer allowed…that trying to re-capture our childhood would be like trying to hold on to a cloud.

Now I know each day we rise…as we welcome in a new day…the child in us has been changed…but they are never far away.

That child has been joined by all the other children and people we have been…in what I picture as a giant reservoir…where all those people float together and synthesize into who we are.

We are constantly adding to our child…each day we change the sum…as we evolve from every person we ever were…and are…into who we will become.

And although I know we can never again be that particular child…this I also know…if we’re lucky we awake each morning embracing the wisps of that child from long ago.

Responsibilities and obligations may change us during life’s roller coaster ride…but we needn’t worry about that child…they’ve never left our side.

So we don’t have to re-capture our childhood…we only need to be aware that if we look into our hearts and souls…we’ll find our child nestled there.

It makes perfect sense to me…after all as a species look at what we’ve done…we’ve climbed mountains, put a man on the moon, and harnessed the power of the sun.

We’ve built huge skyscrapers…we fall in love…we have so many reasons to be proud…don’t tell me we can’t do something as simple as hold on to a cloud.

I felt my child with me when I awoke today…and I don’t know about you…but with a morning sky filled with clouds…
that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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