Long Tracing Poems
Long Tracing Poems. Below are the most popular long Tracing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tracing poems by poem length and keyword.
Apprenticed to enamoring aviary, Love's cerebral chords to refine
To interpret the alluring tones in each, captivating line
Overhead, a snow white dove in the pure light doth shine
Innocent libido's inhibitions to illumine
On silted ground, turtle doves in beautiful harmony fealty bine
Every silky neck strand in seamless congruence to twine
In enchanting Lilac tree, song birds in melodic chorus rhapsody pine
The titillating rhythms of amorous romance to define
On fibrous pulp, wood peckers their virile aspirations sign
Artfully tracing each groove on hull bared and supine
In golden pond, nubile swans in tantric dance align
With graceful movements gently stirring the foamy brine
Hovering , humming birds' wings vibrate o'er suckling vine
Then with salivating tongues on frothy nectar dine
At dusk, Nightingales' guttural groans in palpitating soliloquy whine
The moonbeam's enticing spell on unwitting lovers to assign
Ebony-caped crows bellow bewitching chants o'er listless ravine
Each ingratiated soul with lustful thoughts to incline
Stealthy hawk with piercing eyes each svelte fiber doth divine
Then with dexterous agility swoops down on silky ermine
We are born of fire
Of dust and dream
Rippling in the hush between galaxies,
Where silence first learned to sing.
Your breath is the exodus
Of stars sighing
In timeless sequence
Opening your smile
To my heart-
A flaring comet
Caught in the gravity of your gleam
We are the fusion
Whirlpooled in the core
Of great vastness
As the universe remembers
Where atoms long separated
Begin to dance
I trace the curve of your soul
Like constellations
drawn by ancient eyes
In the night between us
To find every light
That ever dared to shine
We meld into oblivion
Within imploding suns
Birthing a love that sings
Between the lingering clusters
Of stars that fall silent
Folded into flesh
Tracing the curve of stars
Kissed into utter extinction
Let us burn
Not to end
But to become everything
The titular touch of day and night
builds the bud layer by layer,
the blossomed design of destined time
opens the petals,
the floral essence of existence
gradually unfurls
the transient beauty of life,
until the flower withers.
The wilting flower doesn’t even know
when it’s time for the call to come
in the cold night’s slashing silence
from the abyss of the gloomy ground
where it will fall
to disappear drifting
to obscurity in the tempest of time.
On life’s rough garden path
I walk the trudging moments,
steps tracing the last mile meandering
to disappear at the vanishing point.
The spectrum of the setting sun
tinges the fading fringe of time,
turning into specks of eternity,
sinking within the sated soul.
I float in the ethereal waves
in the bay of infinite bliss,
drifting to the yonder shore,
configured in the cauldron
of timeless emptiness.
Roast beef on Rye. Pastrami on toast, a Rubin -
I only have thinly sliced bologna. Not hungry anyway.
Beyond a window, a dog is on my lawn, my mind shouts,
surprisingly the dog seems to hear me.
I have powers.
A record player drops into my mind
the vinyl is spinning, the needle is tracing,
silence roars on. I sing along.
I find an old British sixpenny-bit in Ohio
amazing how we all take teleportation for granted now.
A door knob rattles,
my ears get hairy,
am I being paranoid or is this nervous state
the result of living alone in my head for too long?
This afternoon I will still be here
watching my show.
You star you. I always did like your eyes
they shine like flying saucers.
Note. Make the bed before I sleep
I wrecked it last night.
If I remember, I will consider forgetting all of this.
There was a day when hollow teeth and streams,
The marrow, blood and trains of thought,
Of night black dreams,
Ran their course and floods did wrought,
And changed the shores of all that seems.
Nothing will be as it was just before,
The vision has spoken,
One small token,
Of a future fill’d with crooked faces to the core.
The moment’s now to know,
The summer’s bizarre snow,
For it will always be,
Like it never was ever not.
There is no way to feel sorry,
Fate’s folding hands has always caught,
The visions men find in their nets,
And women standing by who stare.
On what have they possibly staked their bets?
Now to be for sure the dream continued,
To arouse small town vows,
And erase semantic hows,
By tracing the origins of all that is rude
To the holy water of saints
And those who believe in chromosome paints.
The light was parted to let in the crude,
Let this truth be shown,
And forever known,
There can be nothing wrong when the rude,
Sing their song
Throng,throng
Wave their arms with strange attitude
Spill their milk,
Sit on tables,
Dine in stables,
They belong with their ilk
Don’t touch these families with your wooden mood!
The dream abated,
Grammar’s laws took to drum again
The awful games you hated
Once more began to make their stain.
Whosoever chooses to inhale
Not the air but the clouds
Must always run from mobs and crowds.
And make their own fairy tale.
One can not cook warmth from passover wood,
Nor, should you ever forget,
Make love by doing what you should.
As winter winds pass harshly by,
from chilled room the slate sky I see,
long for the time when I’ll be free.
I wish the dark days bid goodbye,
scent of spring in breeze starts to flow,
as the dawn sky begins to glow.
When silk clouds will spread wings to fly
on my meadow in sunrise glare,
I’ll know love is in rippling air.
On tapestry of dream I’ll lie,
floating on zephyr of delight,
won’t let you go out of my sight.
My ardent fervor will soar high,
tracing butterfly’s latticed trail,
to your blooming garden I’ll sail.
As winter winds pass harshly by,
I wish the dark days bid goodbye,
when silk clouds will spread wings to fly,
on tapestry of dream I’ll lie,
my ardent fervor will soar high.
July 28, 2020
Syllable count : 8 each line
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Rhyme checked on RhymeZone.com
Contest : Constanza-Old Or New Poems
Sponsor : Joseph May
In twilight, riding the soft winds so slight
Above peaks, about to cradle the stars,
Two avian are flights' whispers of light
Flowing gentle, where the horizon bars
Tracing the lovers; a "V" shape crescent,
Her wingman steadfast, bright and bold his grace,
With feathers aglow, in a hush unbent,
A dance of the heart, in love's warm embrace
Spectating flowers in awe grow below,
Shadows long, they extend to each their wing,
They glide on breezes, where soft rivers flow,
Not fall birds of prey, but the songs of spring
With each graceful turn, they map out the skies,
In harmony's notes, upon sun-lights beams,
A journey unfolds, where their wild hope lies,
Elegant like silk, within looming dreams
In twilight, riding the soft winds so slight
Flowing gentle, where the horizon bars
Trumpets of purity, dressed in all white,
Two swans in flight are the whispers of light
Do you live your whole life
in a partially filled space
Do you swear up and down
about reasons defaced
Do you sing in a choir
where the music has died
Do you brand all as liars
as your knots remain tied
Do you rob from the master
just to steal from the slave
Do you live in a mansion
built on top of your grave
Do you look for direction
on trails hollow and thin
Does your soul beg correction
torn away from within
Do you begin every sentence
tracing back to the past
Do you live every moment
—writing checks you can’t cash
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2016)
I am in my ground state
something cuddling nothing
tucked in with my stuff of dream
myself and my companion
my form, language, my logic
my letter, symbol, my number
my explanation, description, my stroke, my sound
my noun, verb, my grammatical ingredient
my information, data, my mathematical bit
my measurement, my calculation
my equation, graph, model, my relation
my set, shape, dimension, my duration
......
a scary process, solving myself
I am in-between
after the before and before the after
poised curving through the curling pipe
astride my transitory surf-board
waves collapsing along the quantum shore
smeared, wiped-out, flipped backwards
into the probabilistic ocean or tumbled forward
through surging foam, chaotic spray
observing, informing, accelerating, colliding
attributing, entangling, tracking, tracing
momentum settling like a relativistic beached whale
floundering in a tidal gravity well
......
a scary experience, feeling myself
welcome to our familiar world
cosmos wrapped around our quantum cellar
initial conditions inflating below
embraced by the all-encompassing protoverse
combining happenstance, fields of continuous creation
spawning emergent intelligence
the becoming gods, our transformative selves
personality, memory, purpose
feeding our bellies, mending our bodies and minds
art, technology, history, adventure, achievement
love, compassion, empathy, grieving
imagination, procreation, celebration, failure
......
a reassuring response, cuddling others
An ancient mariner in the seamless sea,
I am sailing solemnly for ages
in the radiance of luminous sunshine,
and when the testing tempest rages.
On the azure swells of the rolling waves,
rising sky high and falling abysmal low,
my senile boat pitches, and I struggle
to keep afloat, the journey is slow.
The moonless night descends silently
on the tossing surface of the charcoal sea,
as the sky sinks in the dark horizon,
nothing in the dense obscurity I can see.
But to reach the yonder shore
I know I have to sail long and far,
lost and forlorn in the alien sea
I search for the omnipresent pole star.
I discover in the end the guiding beacon
of the divine star hidden within me,
tracing the course to the final destination,
I am relentlessly trying so long to see.
The wind on the sagging sail is sluggish,
with its helping stream it can no longer blow,
before the boat becomes motionless,
to the land of promise I must go.
YOU are waiting for me at the edge of my time
in the eternal realm of the heavenly shore,
I don’t know why even now
in the tormenting sea I am for.
May 30, 2021
Contest : Open Poetry 5
Sponsor : Charlotte Puddifoot