Long Tendril Poems

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


The Smell of Colors.

Jest and youthful jollity,
I'm seeking the dazzling sights.

White pimpled dews hug on the greeny grasses.
Black flowers of tiny ants kissing other cheeks.
Golden daffodils lurking under the brown-mushrooms.
Violet flowers peeping from the nest of eggs.

Meroon seeds jungle and spliting slowly.
Grey squirrels gnawing and fighting for orange carrot.
Red berries oscillating by the soft wind.
Orange daisies dreaming about their bride-groom.

Pink rose buds shivering often the touch of moths.
Coral flowers sleeping on the bed of soil.
Purple sky attracted by the pleasant songs of birds.
Yellow butterflies pranked and jumping over the tendril.

Classic scenery spread everywhere!
Over! the smell of colors but my blossom heart wet!!!!!!!!!!
Form: Rhyme


Break of Day Spawns Thwarted Revanchist Rebellion Among Biosphere

The last trailing tendril filaments
of moon beams nocturnally trace
fashion an illusory gilded chariot Ark,
whence upon celestial runners,
the approach of dawn's early light
illuminated terrestrial space
which nebulous solar city flanges
revisited since time millennial
hubbub of human race
nsync with Zodiacal constellations,
which appear to shift

as planet Earth axis place
alternated in accordance with
inexplicable universal teenage
mutant Ninja turtles joint pact
with power rangers assumption
sans quotidian playstation remotely
controlled by aliens upon
oblate spheroid figurative stage
set whence commencement nudged
village people foment quiet riot rage
and rant against

uncontrollable catastrophic frenzy,
when cosmic creator
rehearses another page
from playbook, which
color coded cobbled Bible
emanates with radiant hues
of yellow and osage
nonetheless, no mortal adept to predict
(only within plus and/or minus
some marginal variance of error).

oft times punishing atmospheric phenomena
incarcerated, pistol whipped
(if anther incorrect),
whiplash unleashed, oppressed, imposed
challenging condition testing ground
flora and fauna could thrive,
whereat most hardy
plants and animals didst abound
linkedin upon terra firmae
murmur of orchestrated
organisms devising fitting
evolutionary survival traits

plentiful glory vis a vis L'Chaim;
gnome hatter outlook required
sprinting thru uber vanguard,
where zero sum game pitted
disadvantaged Feng shui
living things poorly sparred mismatched
against itching attired egghead,
kickstarting netzero beastie boys
indeed emulating hotmail prodigies
holding greensward ground.

scrimmage fostered, elicited,
dictated, commandeered nature
going full throttle with pings
across biological labyrinth
positioning glommed, peeved,
mis tweeted seeds of life, and white lily,
within soil lent green grubby business
whereby herb and woody stemmed
recalcitrant proto flings
wrote toe rooter bakers

gave Gaia a run for her money
to buy Buffalo wings
chasing miscreants nimbly
outwitting, out-rigging
outsmarting nettlesome stings,
and sage protuberant fungi,
released messengers where rise home
spore ports left nada mushroom,
though symbiosis wood
bark a roll a cord.
Form: Rhyme

Seed

The tiny seed wasn’t certain it wanted to sprout
It had been through such trauma above the soil
winds buffeting it this way and that 
striking sign posts and trees 
bouncing off them before being whisked away
once again with no idea when or where it would end 
everything out of its control
Finally the gusts died down and it had landed 
where it now found itself
trampling feet and the activity of animals
pushing it down into the ground 
buried where it was safe and warm 
but it knew it had a job to do 
so it sent the first small tendril creeping
out of its shell and took a look around
only to discover it had come to rest 
at the base of a big oak tree which
shaded the sun 
its roots spread in an extensive network all around 
selfishly soaking up all the water when it rained
I came across the brown and suffering little shoot
identifying with its plight
as I had experienced much the same metaphorically
since the morning I had emerged
from my mother’s womb
Retrieving a trowel I carefully transplanted it
to a sunnier spot where it might have a chance
to survive and thrive

Premium Member On November

ON NOVEMBER
          
      Smoggy foggy November Sky:
      Starry fairy ready to fly
      to Earth on visit as artist,   
      fluttered downy wings to resist
      the intermittent wintry breeze,
       floating, gliding, swooping at ease.

     Reached Earth at dawn: Met butterfly.
     Glistened dewdrops tending to dry.
     To sip honey, blooms to insist.
      Fairy took sip, bees to assist.
      Fairy danced on furrows with crease
       of feral field amidst tall trees.

      She stood on strand, stream flowing by.
      On rippling waves peeped a small fry.
      She watched creepers on curly twist
       and took tendril to tie on wrist.
       Chilled November wind not to cease.
       Plants sighed for dry leaves to release.

      ‘Sweetness of fruits to multiply,
       Scent of rose to intensify’-
        November always optimist.
        Fairy smelt rose as a florist.
      Charm on Earthly tour to increase.
       Glad to see pair of golden geese.

      Periwinkles twinkled: Looked shy!
        Starry fairy smiled to say ’Hi!’.
      Shimmering Sun sent rays from East.
      clearing vision through hazy mist.
       Trip over: To leave Earth's premise
     Fairy flew with some cranberries.


   10/31/20
   
                                                                        Second Place
    Checked syllables on Divide into syllables Syllable counter dictionary.

  'Lay November'  Contest by William Kekaula
Form: Lay

Premium Member The Weathered Door


I stand-
gazing     at the weathered    door-
beautiful    the knob is old brass

foliage   dark    and green
protects it

an assemblage of butterflies
lilt and move musically all about
fluttering and it's
lovely

at the weathered door beautiful

and I look behind me at the whispering
foliage    dark    and green
a labyrinthine of twisting memories
        a long path        strewn with tears

woebegone and sorrowful is my journey
as I
gaze
     at the weathered
           door-
                beautiful

and the knob of old brass    beckoning
from
foliage
dark
and green
     that protects

and I
step forward      to open 
but tangled vines
cling to me-
around my legs and arms
holding me       back

and butterflies
lilt and flutter    musically
a beautiful assemblage    encouraging

and the past
is whispering    and hissing
surreptitious
of a manuscript written
where I languor      listlessly and weary 

oh the murmuring memories
that hold me       locked in the past

my journey to the door      a struggle 
but oh I love them     the memories
each one

weeping     I must break free    of the tangled vines
of the past     so I take each beautiful
tendril off                    each clinging vine
and lay them gently on the ground
with a kiss

and step forward    frightened and quivering 
placing my hand on       the old brass knob
and
     I open that door
the weathered door beautiful

protected by
foliage     dark    and green
and step through

that assemblage of butterflies
flutter musically through the opening      to
a lush and green sumptuous    beginning

and I follow
them 
      into a future
         mellifluous

________________________
June 18, 2015


Free Verse

Written for the contest, ...And then I opened THAT door.
sponsor, John Lawless

First Place


Morning Fields of Amber Grey

As the poor little boy
Who has nothing but the stars and a few books,
I gazed into the night sky
And saw the twinkle in your eyes.

My soul, like the shadows upon the hills,
Was lonely until you appeared,
Like a rolling breeze that swept me off my feet,
Your love a snowy tendril land I have always dreamed.

After a day of watching
Eyes looking inside my mind,
Being the daily spectacle that stirred all sanity,
I saw your smile and everything was fine.

Oh, how I tried to learn poets,
With whom I adore, but they all pale in comparison to you,
Brilliant scientists too, but none can match the magic of your touch,
The way you make my heart sing, you're my only muse.

Now, to learn the truth, imagining 'twould better please,
Life pretending there is more in life than death,
With you by my side, my dear, my heart is at ease,
With you, my love, morality is ours because you're mine till my last breath.

:: 03.28.2023 ::

Premium Member Hazy Outlines

Snowdrifts blow      caught in the mountain wind
shifting movements    in the currants bend
before them are     the days of summer fled
into the past    like former days now dead

Might you seek there   light of sunny days
autumn winter spring       now a former haze
water slipping holds    and rushes quickly on
so swiftly fades     a life not dwelt upon

The floodgates rush    down the rivers flash
where water plunges     and run the rapids fast
here our lives are     in fleeting moments gone
and few will know     if voices carried on

And what hopes man     in his life to gain
it’s miseries     if in his sins remain
tomorrow’s promise    know we it will come
accounted little    in our days their sum

This lonely place    flower beds lay fallow
it’s beauty fades    roots not deep but shallow
twilight veils     fields of mankind’s dreams
pursuing endlessly    hopes of better things

You till the soil    there a garden plant
always the weeds    in them do supplant
the roots are choked    and tendril trails creep
and strangles lives    in the dreamers sleep

COPYRIGHT © 2016
C Michael Miller
PoetryofProvidence
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Night Garden

Creeping, crawling the time is calling,
night has come and the dark is falling.
Slinking, slithering the twilight moves,
as the squirming creatures hit their grooves.
Beneath the leaves the beetles advance,
while the worms break free to join the dance.
Their bodies swaying to and fro,
in cadence with the lightning bugs' glow.

Every creature big and small,
begins to stir 'neath the yellow ball.
Singing songs their date approves,
they woo there mate in microgrooves.
Tiny spiders take the chance,
in hopes their lovers crave romance.
But deep inside they all know,
soon they'll be dining with their widowed beau.

The insects carouse through the sleeping flowers,
they won't wake, it's after hours.
Dizzy Lizzies stretch and yawn,
curling petals, they await the dawn.
Tiny feet tickle their leaves,
as nits traverse their tendril weaves.
Only the Fly Traps join the rant,
to make a meal of a passing ant.

The tall grass sways like lofty towers,
as mantises use their magical powers.
They hide on the stalks of the sprawling lawn,
in wait for creatures to prey upon.
Petals glow white in their final reprieve,
to be quickly replaced by new Crinum leaves.
As creatures retreat and the dawn wakes the plants,
The Spider Lily waits, the night to supplant.
Form: Couplet

Regression Whispers

 Regression Whispers 

ancient almond wild stood still 
stark in dark forest through which 
moved determination

a quick tobacco roll
cold beer 
AK the companion
whispers in jungian depths 
puffed from psyche
fumes of struggle, lymph   
floated across eyeballs

camp was porridge, malaria, madness 
heart opened a tendril 
a shudder of brilliant focus

how far was freedom ? 
and what was it ? 
this mission to unshackle
 shame or ignorance or land
outer triangles inner 
the quick smoke tormented 
logistic management or cavalla 
trudge along, single file

whispers of ape to shoot
could not stop hunger’s choke 
a single sinew of animal flesh
soldier with ape, with crescent moon 
staring down, heavens cried
somehow Rahu appeared 

no crows cawed 
not a single lone dragonfly 
just mosquitos, a taruntula
scurry from heavy leather boot
immune systems build 
armours of steel

ape, black-brown mammal  
its life for brothers, sisters 
whispers float the dark
animal eye integrated human eye
souls unite
before blood, shadowy shudders
a single tear rolled down
night-drenched cheek

she settled for mopane 
worms as they built a fire 
for an ape braai
no lamentation 

~~~~~~  

footnote : braai : 
South African word 
for barbecue

Premium Member Rebirth of the Third Angel

A body abandoned 
needs to mourns its last breath in death
a heart cast aside 
still aches to meet its last beat

and a free spirit yearns for a winged monarch moment 
to fly in the spirit of freedom…

opportunity 
flares a tongue 
snaky and bittersweet.. a flicker
grows flames that twist passion’s kiss with kismet

a chance 
to escape on a breath of air
an exhalation;
warm incense offered to vesper -
the wish of a scent to slip through the keyhole

above the hiss of heat 
and gasps of air 
rushing combustion to a roar
airy mystics spoke in the eerie smoke
w   h   i   s   p   e   r   s   
urge the purge of perishable pain  
unclasping lonely-linger’s grasping fingers

soft-spun knit and purl unravels 
as vintage yarn twined with sun and rain unties -
aging rays fail to stave Winter’s grays 
and the ethereal thread of an earthly creation 
releases its tendril 
from the spinning wheel’s weave of circular seasons
from seed to harvest and warmth to chill

vestiges of sisterly hands cup a ceded sigh 
chrysalis celebrates destined to re-emerge a butterfly
terminal tremble of a twilight trill is hushed
vulnerability swaddled 
cradled by clouds of silver and gold
a mortal’s surrender consummates upon the pyre  - 
cinders cleansed of tears and cries and vices
but never the dreamy intrinsic colors 
of the opal’s unfurling blaze

she ascends
a flash of embers relieved of ash
taking fire to the skies with a tigress torch igniting
molten pools spooning the spine of the western shadow
heralding an awakened afterglow to the afterlife -
lamplight gilds mare’s tails hooking heavens 
pathways adrift from the burning thurible 
of a trinity on the cusp of rebirth...

incense rises upon a heated atmosphere  
riding the riddle of the four winds 
beyond realms of soil and salt - reason and logic  
yonder the profound truth of the-not-humanly-known 
seeing past reflections within mere margins of a mind’s mirror
accepting the enlightening throb of the enigmatic pulse of creation
becoming one with the ultimate mystery

the wish of a scent to slip through the keyhole 
fulfilled with exchange of gifts -
the offering of her sunset shroud 
for the white mantle of sunrise

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