Long Thronging Poems
Long Thronging Poems. Below are the most popular long Thronging by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Thronging poems by poem length and keyword.
She’s still; an interlude in solitude.
Twilight mournful, his voice ghostly distant,
introspection.., meditation imbued,
she sits alone, bitter-sweet existent.
Lamentations she weeps in glissando.
Cacophony! Consciously in discord,
love reminisce, arpeggio tempo,
she sits alone, remembrance, two-edged sword.
Bethought bliss, wedded they waltzed plucking notes,
of musical blues and exotic spiced scents…
their life of love evocative emotes,
she sits alone mingling blessings - repents.
Chrystal-tone melodies, bass-tone longing,
Moonlight Sonata melancholy eyes..
pain and pleasure, her reverie thronging,
she sits alone, his ghostly voice in guise.
Susan Ashley
August 5, 2017
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Best Rhyming Poem July-September 2017
Sponsor: John Hamilton
~ Third Place ~
Contest: She Sits Alone
Sponsor: Eve Roper
(In Donizetti's opera "Don Pasquale",
Ernesto longs for his darling.)
How magical the light
of this mid-April night!
The eastern sky is pale,
the moon has dropped her veil!
How all the world's at peace!
It's a night for caprice,
for the mystery of love:
stars are smiling above!
How dawn's first light is warming
the dew which now is forming!
I hear the river gently hum,
'Love, why don't you come?'
When I'm finally asleep,
oh, then how you will weep!
But once across the stream,
I cannot be redeemed!
As new life is thronging,
I'm dying here of longing!
Why, cruel child, oh why
do you leave me to die?
LEISURE FROM LISTFULNESS
A long & dreary time,exquisite
delight has passed.A perverse
unaccountable feeling.A moment’s
reflection,a store of recollections
a painful task to concentrate upon.
Questions come thronging my pen,
difficult to convey,a matter of doubtful
expediency,leisure from listfulness,
dreamy,beautiful,inconsistent,reflective.
Passion and affections a mute sense of
attachment,yet gratifying. The end of a struggle
From Letters of Charles Dickens
A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s(not a poet) to compile unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase.
Listen to me read this phrasis on youtube under name of ichthyschiro
I recall a time at the University
Boys and girls thronging about the LT
Impatiently waiting for Mr/Mrs/Miss Lecturer
The lecture hour slowly drawing nearer
Officious students so busy showing off
You, indifferent to the pageantry and puff,
Exhibiting calm at the diversity of personas
Odd, sane, and weird individuals strangely
Making meanings and opinions – silly
Ones, not so silly ones and...
Living their lives on the divide between blood and sand
Alas! I looked out and saw hope for the future – I saw
You! I mused over this, waiting for the madness to thaw
Opening my knapsack reaching for my copy of
A Walk in the Night. A commanding cough
Diverted my attention. Mr/Mrs/Miss Lecturer had
Entered into class with markers and a writing pad
Looking askance, questions were asked;
Answers were given. Slowly but surely, we were
Killing time. Yay! Class is over!. “Bye Mr/Mrs/Miss Elejowewe”
Until same time next week
Nothing but fun will I seek!
We're now into early evening knowing our knowing
As I watch her glide across the cool marble floor
Graceful steps with her summery dress flowing
It's so easy to fall in love with she whom I adore
Moments later I hear her voice from the shower
I'm being beckoned to offer my manly hands
Now witnessing such curvaceous pulling power
Steamy windows steamier, manned hands planned
On exit, robed, as we caper amidst evenings warm
Flirtatiousness abounds heightening our knowing
I reach, grasp, caught, once robed, now naked adorn
See through my eyes to what they're now seeing
In slow motion fall, cool cotton sheets in receive
Shapely curves beckon I as our eyes meet to seek
In silent approach our hungered knowings plea
Voiced torso's to meet greet seek 'n' lovingly speak
Entwined we bind our souls grasped palms clasp
Thronging rhythmic rhythms are we, Palawan reaches
In moonlight caress, we're blessed, whilst zest rests
Bedded we lie, ties, sighs, with loves peached, teaches.
.
.
Written and concluded June 26th 2020.
Pink flamingos prance with Hooper cranes
high above a vaulted mall ceiling,
a China-blue sky paints fluff upon stucco clouds.
I hold your hand playing hide and seek,
intimate inmates in our open cage,
we are concealed inside a crowd of glitter tramps.
There are rampant plaster angels,
there are neon rainbow fountains,
there are screaming cherubs.
Eyes mob shop windows.
I lose you in the crush and crowd.
Jewelry dazzles on blue velvet carousels.
Spied you on the edge of a mirror,
you’re seeking my fractured reflection
yet too many fake diamonds impede.
Murals crumble under a thronging press,
exit doors spin, spun by a midday sun
no one but I can see the ghost riders.
Found you under a plastic palm.
I thought you carried a child in your arms -
it was just my love that you held so tight.
O April
how I’ve longed for your return
to breathe new life
into this gnarled body..
for these roots to be unfettered
from the grasping earthen frost -
the past season of fanged nor’easters gnashed
me bare - leaving me mauled and dulled
alone with stiffened limbs
lifted to face
the hard glower of old man winter
with not a morsel of mercy to be gained
but April
now that you're here to share
the innocence of the daisy
and the honeyed scent of the sweet pea
I feel inspirited like a sapling young and tender again;
mild is the fog’s embrace in early morn
as I taste your sweetened rainwater
and gentle is the rhythm of baptizing
showers bathing dark days away..
and ever grateful is my grayed heart
as it begins to beat
with the fresh pulse of verdant rebirth
oh April
how easily you inspire
my shy imagination to fly
with the zephyr's muse
to expand my artistry
in an afternoon’s brushstroke of forsythia light
dreams once frozen now thawed and golden
eager to flourish in bloom
awakening the poetry
in a new leaf’s unfurling whisper -
a whisper that grows a praising wind-psalm
as choirs of bursting buds
celebrate revival
with a rustling alleluia!
star-shaped sails rouse in swishing sounds
their leafy lyrical breath one with the breeze
my green-laden boughs now a wellspring
of exuberant born-again voices
a thronging rejoice lifted
to the heavens on the whisk of the westerlies;
supple is my sweep and sway ‘neath
the soft-bellied skies of Spring
dear lady, April
how I revel in the glorious abundance of your Nature;
your nurture enlivens my humble woody being
and though gray may shade my weather-beaten heart..
evergreen is my soul
Susan Ashley
April 12, 2021
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: April
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
UPON THE SEASHORE
Off the blue Nantucket
music of laguid hours,emerges
from the labyrinth,delicate
snail-horn perceptions of beauty,
thronging this world of sensible
things.Stirred by majesty,soft
flowing surging impressions
where sea meets sky.Infinite
purples,fragments of rainbow
gleam in the spindrift,sensuous
lively,lovely,many-hued restless
gossamer,abysm of time in a
dancing throng,slow recurrent
the rhythm of the sea,sifting the
illusion upon a seashore.
SOJOURN IN THE EXOTIC
Penetrating imagination,restless
intellect’s perverse ingenuity
and worse, in imperishable
lines eerily luminous corescate
like brilliant pyrotechnics.A wind
that blows aloof,ebbs and flows
of the familiar and the strange.
A picturesque protracted sojourn
in the exotic,a periennial longing
to be what we are not.The paradox
reasserts itself and glamour fades.
A phrasis verse from - John Livingston Lowes
Convention& Revolt
From John Livingston Lowes
Convention& Revolt
*A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s(not a poet) to compile unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase.
Listen to me read this and other of my phrasis on youtube under name ichthyschiro
Solitude all around. 'In there' I am lost; midst a thronging everywhere'
Though I have never walked, a planet cold; a lonliness to me has talked,
As a sea of silence surges, await I the breaking dawn of love & gentle urges,
Imagining that they could come, outside of this indifferent lot; that is my sum.'
Dim the light, and worn the day; I exist despite.. Evil times & trecherous ways,
If only 'one' could break the doom, forbid the hold of this living tomb,
But no.. No one I even guess.' Would warm me with true & safe caress's
I've fallen down to lay alone, my future colder than a frozen stone.'
The land suffers too much greening;
luxuriance froths to fever and glut,
birds cannot consume all the insects,
nor serpents eat the thronging flocks.
The soil hogs on the swill of decay,
drey and burrow are ovens
for a prowling pestilence.
There is no softness. The sun
bites the bloated and rancid,
a balance is tipped off kilter,
the climate repaints its face
more garish each day.
A little poverty is needed, a tax
on the riotous and abundant,
the sickly succulence of ripe sap
be drained and clarified.
We live now in the eyes of strangers,
hunters are maddened by the gnawing
of long fevered bones.