Long Transparency Poems
Long Transparency Poems. Below are the most popular long Transparency by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Transparency poems by poem length and keyword.
She stood on the veranda
Silhouetted by the full moon’s light
The transparency of her nightgown
Adding to the erotic sight
Her hair danced in the subtle breeze
That carried her perfume to my nose
Anticipation, in many forms
Figuratively and literally grows
She turns and sees me staring
Her smile says she doesn’t mind
Her nightgown opens up in front
My robe responds in kind
Outside of our bedroom
In the cool, autumn open air
The fact neighbors might be watching us
Neither one of us seemed to care
The smoothness of her body
The softness of her skin
Her lips nibbling at my ears
Not wanting it to end
Slowly we dance the dance
Of lovers in full embrace
Synchronized in our climaxing
Looking deep in each other’s face
With the last bit of strength I have left
I carry her inside to our bed
“Let me know when we can start again,”
Are the whispered words that she said
When I see in colors
I say Yes
softly or loudly
and usually in-between
depending on our vibrancy together.
When we see in black and white,
we say maybe yes
and perhaps not
and other shades of ambivalent grey.
I cannot see in black
as I cannot see white at all
except perhaps as shades of transparency.
When I hear in resonant music
I say Yes
to truths of resolution,
trusting resilient motions of emotion
integrity of life
life as integrity
potentiating further regenerations;
new songs for perpetuating tomorrow.
When I hear in words
I'm listening for what's missing.
Lyrics without a melody
are more disappointing works.
I see best in full dressed color
and hear our dynamic truths
most resonantly as music
in soft sizzling preludes
on through conflagrations
loud climatic revolutions
followed by silence
black as night
waiting for white
bright dawning colors
dancing new music
vibrant washed.
Learning in full octave ranges
we can see a child
listening for a parent
seeing community developers
and violators
seeing fellow politicians
longing to write and read
hear and speak poetry together
while seeing as musicians
swelling gospel choirs
and drumming
burning orchestrations
of co-redeeming music
in full non-flagging flames of color.
When we hear in colors
we see full octave best
until it's time for rest
notes that last
until they don't
turn just right bright
vibrant multicolors.
*Image of Hands In Mine by giphy Ruoloc.
Of A Chasten Kind
We were both in the advent moment,
In appreciation of our wants and likes were similar,
A comparison game we played,
For our desires was for another time to ponder away,
Per 'carpe diem' 'twas the name of the game,
Forthwith we did not gamble our sins,
Be another day to filter away,
And not by a whim to spin on a dime,
Yet heads or tails were a game played by one,
For in all due process, one of us had jumped the gun,
The noose was tightened and hung high,
Too high for me to judge righteously,
For my heart was still playing the game,
Not knowing you had stopped all the same and baited,
For but to steal a chance and awaken a sleeping giant,
And kindle a spark hoping to inflame a forest,
A dampen moment ill-gotten,
Gained clarity in way of doubt, the distance made short,
Apparent left speechless and a heartbeat nevertheless,
Could not perceive eyes belonged to another, claim abandoned,
The transparency ended, a future made errantly,
Lost soul took flight ends the tryst e'er made,
Now one doesn't play anymore,
For being alone 'tis no game at all.
Revised Date: 2020 March 18
Original Date: 2019 May 07
I wrestle with against vulnerable boundaries
to invasive intimacy,
left unlanguaged yet right felt dismay
could not sustainably remain
without being said outloudlyish
in some bicameral bilateral bipolar balancing brainiac
polypathically left merely cooperationalizing,
creolizing Sacred Elders feeling self-righteous
matriarchal nutritionisms,
spiritual and diminished secular scientissues
falling failing OtherWise,
hypothetical proofs of co-incidence.
Knock knock.
Who's there?
Not not here.
I wish.
Go notnot away.
Where dissonance grows troubling
such dismay's source is left label searched for
within economic causes
producing secular with sacred ecological effects
to become biologically expected
in and through bilateral regenerational returns,
depending on the faith systemic word choices preferred
by All EarthLives Matter
sacred ecosystemic recoverers,
co-listening
deep mutual learners
comfortable in tranquil ponds
of lucid equal harmonies
ringing double-boundaries
singing
winging
flinging not here not now
invisible hypotheses
of Zero-Core bicameral bilaterality.
Rich loving mentors,
teachers,
but please,
not another preacher
of cognitive patriotism
against affective ecofeminist intuitive self-defense
begun against
lunar-scheduled matriotism,
offense against solar Yanger
wanger
bangers,
Pi to pay
the multiculturing pipers,
ecofitters,
multiculturing quilters
and organic happy, sometimes a little high,
farmers
of antiquity,
herstoric myth tellers
and legend gossips
and polypathic paradigming architects
exforming evolutionary incarnations
as revolutionary reverse-notnot
evolutionary
yet as now appositionally bilateral
absence of cognitive-affective dissonant
boundaries
of vulnerably echoing reiterative transparency,
both ego threat of rightwing dominant terrorism
and eco-opportunity,
left with right wing ego/eco-dominance
as positive psychology
and EarthTribe EcoJustice
complicated redisunprecovery
of often deep dense politics.
All about atomizing power
both/and wavey-linear flow.
Wherein we wrestle with,
but preferably not against,
vulnerable boundaries
about too invasive double-binding intimacy
left unlanguaged
yet right felt dismay,
sung in
and through thin
diminishing dissonance.
"One day, . . . I saw the sunset forty-four times! . . . You know—one loves the sunset, when one is so sad."
Quote from The Little Prince
by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Sky, mirror of our hearts,
tries to hide her burning heart under water;
The ocean heaves in empathy
with tears of angst the colour of fire
transforming, slowly, into lava.
Sky, mirror of our hearts..
Roses fall from her cheeks
spreading over pages of transparency
to turn her boundless looking-glass
into a sea of fiery roses
that will soon be devoured by
the charcoal of the night.
Sky, mirror of our hearts,
waits for the serene moon
to veil her smouldered cheeks
with gleams of composed silver.
Sky, mirror of our hearts
that will forever lurk within us,
at twilight, hides her blushing sun
until she re-learns to rise from the ashes
and recommence weaving hope . . .
gauntlet of mirrors transparency personified
transparency personified when the curtain falls
in an arena of quick sand and impromptu judgement
the stage was well set though actually
it presented itself as rather empty
epic theatre art form at its vacant best
I placed himself at the very manifest epicentre
of concealed and subconscious intentions
would I shed the gauntlet despite sharp sordid shards
sharing poetry soul-stripping and nakedly honest
Freud would think of an electrifying Egopuss complex
Jung’s shadow play might reveal phallic saints on display
until of course Nietzsche found God in Mary Magdalene
a marriage apocalyptically consummated in Dante’s inferno
with four horsemen in G-strings frottageing lust and desire
no contest is real unless the audience may be allowed
to pervert justice or shed more than hypocritical applause
constructive critique does not forbid foul language nor rage
at times I felt deprived when my poetry in the soup’s cauldron
merely attracted kind comments or however heartfelt approval
when I put myself into the lioness’ den I expect to be ravaged
ravaged displaced exposed devoured and put to the stake
a wizard needs fire because talent and flair have to be moulded
publishing poetry is an interaction between consenting partners
otherwise it risks to become pantomime or unilateral megalomania
mirror mirror on the wall am I not the best screwball of them all
where is the podium what is my prize accolade and quilled line squall
a masked persona falls short of the truth and I am the court jester
expect my bells and whistles to jingle as tools for the eloquent fool
tomtoolery when Machiavelli meets de Beauvoir in the boudoir
oh crystal ball kaleidoscope gemstone alchemy of soul and mind
nights in white satin and shining armour pain pleasure and words
words that cannot express my conflict when the prism is smudged
footnotes:
Egopuss complex refers to Oedipus’ gender neutrality, although it could be
viewed as a misspelling for the purulent excretions of Self on autopilot
tomtoolery are male tools of trade and craft, but could I not be the feminine
version
Emotional intelligence
is best watered
with transparency
and fed through vulnerability.
Vulnerability becomes accessible
through practicing win/win courageous expectations
even in the most enduring partisan win/lose spaces,
secular and sacred
Transparency becomes articulate
through practicing multicultural curiosity
active and benign and free of prejudgment
and western white straight male
military-industrialized,
sometimes too fat and monoculturally self-satisfied
to become more than tolerant,
throwing outbound left-brain dominant
impatient-worded weapons
where right-brain interdependent active curiosity
listening tools
and win/win moderating skill-sets
for watering left-cognitive
and right-emotive
polyphonic intelligence
might foster rational reasons
to support resilient ego/eco-health care,
Receiving and giving balanced economic
ego-logos/eco-mythos
emotional intelligence,
emotive motives
best curiously watered
with courageous transparency
and fed through con-celebrated vulnerability.
She offers far greater potential than the frame upon which she attaches
She is flexible, agreeable, and delights to be covered, opened, or closed
She provides a reality far and above her surrounding strong walls
If you should decide to uncover her, she will light up your world
If you desire to open her, she will comfort you with cool breezes
She’s transparent and flexible, willing and able to serve your needs
She’s a window and wishes to make you smile, but don’t break her
And even if you wish to close her, she will agree to give you privacy
Mirrors will aid and assist; but mirrors will never sustain or satisfy you
But if it is privacy alone that you seek, you need walls and not windows
If it is your world alone you desire, you need mirrors, and not windows
If “your point of view” is all that matters, you have no need of windows
But if you care about what’s out there, and how others see and feel;
If you long to share, to touch the souls of others, to give, to help, to heal;
If the tool of your trade is transparency, and you have no need for a shield;
You are a window person, and your heart has been touched by the Almighty
You’ve heard sounds, seen visions, and you cannot be retained behind walls
You have uncovered and allowed yourself to be opened for the benefit of others; you felt the breeze of the Almighty. You are free from mirrors and walls, and like God, through windows, you seek to love.
09142017Submitted for contest, Mid September Premiere, Brain Strand
Proclaimed the trunk to His roots:
A demagogue teaches
and preaches
as my head trunk talks down
to my frontline branches
Lesser beings who had best listen
and learn
my stern
and often punishing expectations
Explained the roots
to Her much-loved trunk:
A pedagogue first listens
at the refining foot
of a sacred grassroot system
To serve compassionate communication,
inclusive problem-solving,
celebrating win/win peak experiences
of resonantly embodied promise,
harmony,
musicality,
integrity,
synergy,
transparency,
vulnerability
to multiculturally omniscient expansion.
Demagogues
require retribution
to survive against win/lose
zero-sum competitions
threatening capital-headed
bloating at the crown
While pedagogues invite restoration
of fully embodied thrival
and win/win uncompromised revival,
Faith in nonzero sum
polyculturally active,
deeply saturating communication,
rooted in past peak communion
courageously curious experiences.
When I encounter
GoldenRule shadows
of opportunity
to reduce sinister internal and external health risks,
like my bipolar daughter
yelling "IDIOT!" at me
while feeling up the watermelons
at StopNShop
TilYouDrop
Embracing red-faced shadows
feeling a Fool for tolerating such defiantly public abuse,
acclimating to her maligning
would-be terrorist
knife-searching ways
of RightBrain projecting
while transferring oppositional LeftBrain
deep learning competitions
My GoldenRule Shadow
could not easily restore peace
or any sense of equitable,
even barely Win/Lose tolerable,
justice.
GoldenRule therapeutic opportunities
risk considerable co-investment
in deep learning time
for transfer into transporting roleplay
inviting vulnerable transparency
however non-violently inconvenient
while trying to chop and shop off my well-prepared lists,
Shadows suggesting a silent breath for ego-eco re-acclimation
to reconstruct mutual opportunity space
only half inhabited by sinister shadowed
LoseLose risk--
Bully judge others
before they eat you--
Now emerging wealthy WinLose transference
merging with GoldenRule
Shadow WinWin opportunity
for LeftEgo/RightEco co-acclimation:
Play nice,
or this IDIOT
will cook you,
then eat you,
with salt and pepper,
and some spicy catsup.
Yang transferring health power
of GoldenRule breath coming in-
jesting stark terror,
While yin projecting resonant tone
and co-empathic rhythm flows
more nonviolently inviting out
GoldenRuled opportunity again
to prepare our Idiotic dinner
together.