Long Trance Poems
Long Trance Poems. Below are the most popular long Trance by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trance poems by poem length and keyword.
Disintegrated
Red Tears , Create a Black Lake
Where my Heart now swims
You may Kiss your Bride : I raise HER veil, see the essence of my universe
Wrapping my arms around Her; drawing Her closer, We kiss our tongues dance
The eyes, ears the depths of my soul ; screaming “Rejoice; our host is Whole
I remember Our Wedding Dance a Rhapsody to Eternity, the rest of the day
A soporiferous trance
I remember the last Beautiful Picture I ever Felt of “ L E N O R E “
My host was standing on the Shuffle-Board Court talking with Mr. Adams
His only “FATHER” - in law : Respectfully my host gazes beyond “TO LENORE”
Standing by the railing on the main deck a few feet below : He glances and catches
THE flash in LENORE’s Green Eyes : the mirrors of HER SOUL a silhouette :
Against the Sun standing upon his own reflection Smiling at His smile : I Smile
Sending LENORE ‘s Heart a whisper : a LOVE Song; Singing of our FOREVER
A Toast to MRS LENORE ELLEN(Adams)JOHNSON The Heartbeat of my SOUL
Her eyes bypass me to her Daddy, I nod my appreciation, He nods Saying call me D A D
OUR eyes revert to LENORE who raises her glass which flies from her hand: I glimps
As a sailing boom sweeps across the main deck Hearing the wails of fear and pain
The boom lifts LENORE up and throws Her over the Railing I glance at DAD “FROZEN
In that second of time” I tore off my cummerbund tie and my shoes “All HANDS on Deck
ALL HANDS ON DECK Man Overboard I start to leap as the arms of a monster puts me in a
Bearhug
I can’t break through “ Let me go YOU stupid M___er - F___er Please LET ME GO I cried
PLEASE
Just down the street there is a place.
Where dreams just fade without a trace.
You walk right in and think it's free.
Next thing she just won't let you be.
You learn real soon how her game works.
As you keep waiting for the perks.
But she's so good at loves deception.
Leave's you feeling you're the exception.
Just one more trinket, and one more dance.
Don't over think it, you're in a trance.
You've come too far to walk away.
Tomorrow's come, but not today.
It does get dangerous in her snare.
You start to think she just might care.
Cause every time you come back in.
You place your bet and hope you win.
I've played some games of chance in life.
Hoping some day I'd have a wife.
But now the fantasy's not real.
I'm left to wonder how should I feel.
You hope when you sit down to write.
You'll find an answer and some insight.
But sometimes all you get are phrases.
As you're left to wonder through life's mazes.
Yes, you came last night as I had wished
Normally reader, if you are after it that you desire
Your soul by hook or by crook is going to be the complier
When dear reader, you are lost into nothingness adrift and keep up as such
Be sure what you wished, a part of your mind would, insist on piecing it together.
So, exactly so it happened with me
It was a charming moonlight flooding outside
To my great delight a flower of that soft radiance I saw seated
In my chair in front of my computer table with the room in rhythmic dance
And then the flower shaping into a slim human figure looking a woman in trance
I felt a mild tremor within my anatomy
There were micro waves inside my hemoglobin
It was not the perfumed woman I had been daydreaming
Then came people walking along with the now familiar figure moving leisurely
Very affectionate peaceful slender composed friendly arisen from the moonlight
Initially I felt confused with the easy gait
A soft and serene smile with a little bit of frivolity
The head half-covered with a veil of soft and silky drape, that is, Shari
Sort of gesturing with her beautiful eyes asking me to come close to her side
Then confusion gave way to the joy of a child looking at his mother wide-eyed
I felt exceedingly happy and kept looking at my mom
I felt the hugs the scolding the tears the smiles and the flavours
I wanted to rush towards her and to hug her tight as I did when a child
But the film faded fast as the world was coming back with its dawning sounds mild
I thanked the ruler replacing the desired woman with my mom in the colored void
Amazed I could not settle for a while in the day thanks to the great Sigmund Freud
So intimate is, spectrum of love hues sublime
Vivifying our body, through touch sensory
As we meld into ambedo trance every time
Rekindling thereby, our pristine divinity
Sensuality heightened, if we be present
Imbibing subtle nuances within our heart
Thought rested awareness, flowing with the current
At each instant, throb of bliss ignition restarts
So intimate is, our continual breath flow
Pranic energy, percolating within deep
Moment to moment, innate aliveness aglow
As the nectar divine, into our pores does seep
Mindful presence, equal both within and without
Radiating a mysterious magnetism
No desires remain, onto which ego may grout
Endearing eye, bridging narrow thought form chasms
So intimate is, touch of lovers holding hands
In silence, exchanging love electricity
Their auras intermingling, gently understand
Tranquil fulfilment, thus in continuity
A walk along the beach, waves lapping up the shore
Soft moonlight enlivening the play of delight
Love in love with love for love alone, yearns for more
Teasing caress divine, radiant day and night
So intimate is, the flow of our innocence
Flitting gently from sensation to sensation
Void and manifestation merged in this parlance
A seamless continuum of meditation
Our vaporised self, assigning no preference
All life coordinates having equal appeal
Sensual vibrancy of the divine dream dance
Renews afresh that bliss throbs we so fully feel
Oh hermit! Each touch intimate and sensual
Lived from our stillness fulcrum, as Gods miracle
31-January-2021
Bird, Miles, Max forever jazz pride
In the realm where jazz and beats collide,
Bebop's swift notes and hip-hop's pride,
Rhymes like melodies, flows that ignite,
Improv and rhythm, taking flight.
Bird’s soaring solos, Miles’ cosmic sound,
Max on the sticks, where legends are found,
From chromatic whispers to lyrical bars,
Their spirits echo through city stars.
DJ Quik on the West, a storyteller’s grace,
Blending jazz’s soul with a street’s embrace,
A tapestry woven of history and style,
A global language, uniting mile after mile.
Inspiration sparks in every note and phrase,
A voyage of discovery, a timeless maze,
From the heights of avant-garde to the everyday street,
Music’s heartbeat makes us whole and complete.
Bebop and hip-hop, a cosmic dance,
Rhymes and rhythms in a shared trance,
Fly high, groove deep, let the music be your guide,
Bird, Miles, Max — forever in the jazz pride
Crawl Baby, Crawl Baby
Scribble on that Wall, Baby
Society's Chains aren't meant for you
Stand Straight and stand up Tall
I'll Stop your Fall
Run Baby, Run Baby
Your Heart is like the Sun Baby
It Warms the Earth around you
And it Answers to no-one
Your Time's Begun
Chorus
Fly Free One Fly
Your Trail will Rip the Sky
Your Name will Shine in Lights someday
Up where the Eagles Fly
And Daddy'll Cry
Dance Baby Dance Baby
Seize your every Chance Baby
Don't let 'em say "it can't be done"
Go leave 'em in a Trance
Dance Baby Dance
Soar Baby Soar Baby
To a far off Distant Shore, Baby
Have 'em Follow you, to Heavens Gate
And leave 'em wantin' more
Soar Baby Soar
Chorus
Love Baby Love Baby
A Gift from God above Baby
The Greatest Gift Mankind can Claim
Surrounds you like a Glove
Love Baby Love
Chorus to fade
Song for Aoibha, my baby girl...age 5
My father once told me that life is like a book,
each phase we live is a new chapter, a new chance;
for me each turn of the page, is a path I took.
In some chapters, I have just danced through in a trance,
in a moment- I change yet stay the same within;
each phase we live is a new chapter- a new chance.
Another death . . . makes a new destiny- begin,
the end of a relationship shatters my heart;
in a moment I change . . . yet stay the same within.
All the pages and all the chapters are all part,
part of my second chance and story through life;
the end of a relationship shatters- my heart.
But, no matter the chapter I still feel the knife,
the dagger still stabs my new alternative time;
part of my second chance . . . and story through life.
When I have fallen off the page . . . I must climb,
from the pits of despair into the light again;
the dagger still stabs my new alternative time.
And when I am in a dark place I pick up my pen,
I do not wish my life to be a repeating story;
from the pits of despair . . . into the light again.
I know if I follow this journey- I will find glory,
for this life though precarious is divine;
I do not want my life to be- a repeating story.
So, no matter what life gives me . . . I will be fine,
my father once told me that life is like a book;
for this life- though precarious is divine,
and for me each turn of the page is . . . a path I took
_______________________________
January 16, 2019
Poetry,Terzanelle/A Path I Took
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1105-409-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Second Chances
sponsor, Chantelle Ann Cooke
Third Place
Barefoot Beneath the Twinkling Stars
Kevin Davis, 2024
Dusk slipped into darkness without a moon,
Children played on, though they’d be called in soon.
Hide-and-seek forgotten, feet flashed through the green,
Chasing fireflies and dandelions tucked in between.
Laughter rippled softly through the honeyed summer breeze
As stars blinked awake in the rustle of the trees.
Their giggles rose with secrets shared beneath the velvet sky,
Moments of magic as the night’s curtain drifted by.
Barefoot adventures—the night was their friend,
Wishing that twilight would never quite end.
In the glow of the streetlight, shadows shimmered and danced,
Each youngster wandering deep in a summertime trance.
The world felt so big, yet cozy and small,
Wrapped in the night’s gentle, comforting sprawl.
Memories born in that soft evening light
Would be treasured forever in the hush of the night.
Barefoot beneath the twinkling stars overhead,
Wonder still sparkled in each child as they fled.
No one was ready for the end of their play,
But their mother’s soft call drew the magic away.
“Time to come in,” she called, “and get ready for bed.”
And leaves faded old are flying,
withered red, burnt orange and gold:
and the birds in trees are crying;
the mornings have a hint of cold !
Autumn is weeping, weeping rain,
and leaves faded old are flying:
garden flowers decay and wane;
tomorrow they will be dying !
Autumn hues intensifying,
with chill days when the sun is bleak:
and leaves faded old are flying;
even the droning bees seem weak !
The wind now like a waltzing dance,
swirling, twirling mystifying:
the beautiful scenes a dream trance;
and leaves faded old are flying !
______________________
August 13, 2022
Poetry/Quatern/And Leaves Faded Old Are Flying
Copyright Protected, ID 1479-793-13
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
POEM OF THE DAY - August 15, 2022
Written for the Premiere contest, A Hint of Autumn
sponsor, Regina McIntosh, Judged 09/03/2022
Fourth Place
It is Halloween, Hollow Eve's dark night,
my friends and I are dressed like vampires and witches;
with a purpose of candy and also to cause fright.
The neighborhood is an alien landscape,
I am one of the undead- a blood sucker parasite;
and a big part of my costume is my silk black cape.
We walk with vigilance- our steps cautionary,
as we pass monsters dreadful and sinister;
a shaded form opens the gate of a cemetery.
His smile is trickery for I sense evil in that smile,
those white teeth look quite long and very sharp;
he appears diabolical with a gaze quite vile.
As he comes closer I am paralyzed with fear,
I seem to be powerless and frozen in place;
suddenly, he is before me and his face is more clear.
But before I can scream out at my abduction,
he carries me among the tombstones and graves
oh, he is beautiful and I am in a trance of seduction
Entering a crypt the light is growing dark and dim,
he places me within a coffin and lays beside me;
and with greed drinks my blood - but it is not grim.
With groans of pleasure he takes my vital juice,
and I take his sumptuous nourishing plasma. . .
each night feasting - oh, from his spell I will never be loose
__________________________
October 20, 2020
Poetry/Rhyme/Hollow Eve
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1296-612-20
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Halloween Challenge
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 11/7/20
Fourth Place