Long Transpose Poems
Long Transpose Poems. Below are the most popular long Transpose by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Transpose poems by poem length and keyword.
Agile music pouring out gentle quiet,
Furious sighs breaking through the soft shadows,
Beyond the moon, ebbs a beautiful riot.
Stars glistening, prompting the wind to transpose,
Reverse the dancing laughter, breathless pining,
Aching, trembling, quaking as the music slows.
Autumn’s beguiling, summer is declining,
Whispering kisses over mountain ascents,
Only God Himself could have done this signing.
Author of graceful laughter, warm precedents,
Soulful joys discovered beneath the sunshine,
Rays of glory raining down over contents.
Story of light pierces dark, the bottom line,
Father, Son and Holy Ghost, this light is mine!
You cannot tell someone how to be poetic.
One of the beauty's of God's creation is variety.
Everyone has a different way to view the world. So expression is personal and how they do it,
is how they do it.
You can dislike the well and the pump,
the water may be bitter, but poetry is a pipe.
A pipe is a pipe. (I suppose you can hit
someone in the head with a pipe,
O but this one likes it?!)
Contrite=Clean pipe=poetic hydration= delicious
A garden, apologetics' pardoned.
So many topics of value to water and brighten
in synthesis
Most relatable in at least one way,
some maybe a vantage point yet to be reached.
Poems written, certainly make sense to the Poet,
intent for them
timing of delivery.
The poem vehicle is guiltless and clean.
All non maliced expression is beautiful.
Beauty is there to be seen.
Reaching others is beautiful,
poets know what I mean.
Indeed, a contrite heart's expression cannot be
told how to beat, rhythm or song.
Channel the mind's lifeblood to transfuse
in drops of iv connection.
It is a personal inner working, each
with personality,, a variety, multiplicity, complexity, ingenuity with it's multitude throng of shadows long. ing, to show a cog run
spilling for a dawn ing, kaleiding
with its own gratuity,
with other spring unleashings, seasonings
scent of sprigs sprung reconciling-filing,
suns setting down,
pages aglow with flavors abound for of sight,
sense, touch of taste- of the profound.(a bit much?
No)
A psalm, a palm, a plum, a tongue
(testing, tasting litmus for the truth)
Expression is our spirit animal's instinct.
How can instinct of feeling, "intuition" be wrong?
You may be wrong, but your feelings are always true.
They are a telling of the truth as you know it.
So transpose your interpreter,
3D ink your printer, lube for that ultrasound hum,
seeing reaction, scan for it
and hope for more, so that we can see what
was in you all along.
Then throw up in the bottomless pit,
because you are impregnated with it.
It is squishy, you can feel it in the pit,
under your feat.
When moonlight fades from flower and rose
Sweet mystery of dawn unfolds
Now all the dreams of night will pale
Wafting into lilac shadows
As tapestry of daylight grows
Rainbows linger in the dew
Stirring nature and earth to wake
As birdsong trills a new day glows
Sun rays in forest light transpose
We long to keep this morning calm
Yet plans start spinning in our minds
No time to gaze on peaceful willows
Forget the brilliant lure of Nature’s shows
Or daylight spun from pinks and golds
There will be many more tomorrow’s.
For Lines to Awaken Your Muse 2
Joseph May
Line used : The moonlight fades from flower and rose
First Place
There is a song
Within the human voice
A song that speaks an undeniable truth
That tests the meaning of our mettle
To strive beyond what we know of ourselves
For the elements that define our spirit
We Sing!
A song of discovery in the face of being lost
A song of triumph in the face of failure
A song of strength in the face of hardship
Of determination in the face of fear
A song of faith in the heart of treachery
A song of redemption in the face of shame
A song of compassion in the eyes of anger
A song within the wisdom of ourselves
To transpose the music of each moment
We Sing!
Rewrite: I'm Just Getting Started" September 23, 2019
October 15, 2020
Will To Survive Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
taciturn springs rising
from within the quarry
of deep earth's wisdom
urging lyrical waters to transpose
while held like singing seas of living reveries
of history and infinity
misting to meld with rainfall dreams
Falling like ancient messages
into the orchard of molecular landscapes
drawn to penetrate its legacy
embedded in the rockeries and rills
blanketing the groves of dirt and ferns
teeming in the arcadian oasis
feeding feast or famine
flourishing the solicitude of springtime
in spider spun dreams
of longings in ancient oaks
merging with the ebb of shedding sycamores
in salted seas teeming and exalting
the rhetoric of existence
in musing opaque vapors
mingling into pervasive clouds
bleeding life
cached in the creche
of pastoral beginnings
of everlasting eddies
watering the garden of dreams
April 22, 2020
Rewritten: October 3, 2020
Your Best Free Verse 2020
Sponsored by John Hamilton
There is a song in the lion’s voice
who stands beside the promised fields
laden with the hope of sunflowers.
His song roars with an undeniable truth
uplifted by our nation’s homeland.
We stand tall, to be brave for the love
of our country, our families, neighbors and loved ones.
We rise above our common selves
to serve with irrefutable passion
all that we are to never be defeated!
From these voices that swell with valor and pride
from the spirit and soul of Ukraine’s heart,
honor rings like the bells of heaven
upon the snow laden graveyards
splattered with blood, iron and honor.
They recite the watchwords that comes brilliant and clear
for the world to hear. In our grief, strength and sorrow
we sing our song today for our tomorrow!!
A song that tests the meaning of our mettle,
that strives beyond what we know of ourselves.
A song that finds the elements that define our spirit
against the raging fires of hate.
A song that casts our loyalty upon the soils of our freedom.
A song of discovery in the face of being lost.
A song of triumph in the face of failure.
A song of strength in the face of hardship,
Of determination in the face of fear.
A song of faith in the heart of treachery.
A song of redemption in the face of shame.
A song of compassion in the eyes of anger.
A song within the wisdom of ourselves
to transpose the music of each moment.
For truly, it is the song of us!
March 23, 2022
Pick a Title, Vol 29 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
LADIES AND GENTS, hear this that I may increase your leisure benefits!
All who have labored for cleanliness, for a spic and span to savor,
please allow me now to do you the most ginormous of favors …
Sweep, vacuum, scrub, dust, mop … have those acts ever pissed
you off? Cleaning is tough, especially rough because results don’t
last long enough. I see from your faces, you know what I mean -
allow me to paint a scene: Your kitchen floor has not one
speck, not a smudge or spot nub to detect, and it is, oh, so sweet
walking that floor in your bare feet - - -SUDDENLY A DUTY
is stuck to your foot, some wretched crumb of vagrant soot,
a speck intruder you would gladly, madly shoot!
Well, lean in close for I can transpose the major bummer of gross
into … REWARDING, FULFILLING, LONG-LASTING DOMESTIC
PROSE!!
This can, this light weight can and its sprayed, domestic changing
dose keeps rooms as pristine as when newly, fully cleaned, YES,
from den to latrine to hall, it guards clean in all, even door frames
and walls!! Just spray, walk away, and this anti-dirt, clean hold vaccine,
THIS spray, right here, in my hand will, I vow, grant you a whopping
wow; allow this month-long guard warrior to protect your clean, EVEN
toilet bowls will maintain their sheen, EVEN toothpaste spit in haste –
just forget it because this spray, available this day with many ways to
pay, won’t quit it!
Just $9 a can, NO $.99 that results in 99% of us feeling a brain insult.
Who are those people who write addictive prose
I read their lines and they make me feel transpose
Tell me who they are for I much like to meet them soon
They must be super human who perhaps live on the moon.
They say our fears are liars that like to bring us down,
And if we believe our fears we soon won’t be around
Who are these folks whose poems makes my soul stand still?
Who are these bright people who have such gifted skills?
They seem to be the wise of old that paint a picture out of words
Please tell because their prose makes my heart sing like a bird
Who are these accomplished individuals whose words aluminate my heart?
They must be nightingales that sing their sweet songs in the dark
I sure would like to meet them and hear their words of lore
Do you believe they come from some forgotten shore?
Who are these brilliant personages who write of eternal hope
And love then turn around, and put our lives under a microscope
They tell their stories with such veracity that take my breath away
I want to understand how they know the way I feel every day
At times I wonder how they find the words to make their poetry rhyme
I read their verses with tears upon my face, especially at bedtime
With pen in hand and paper, I try to write words that do not come
And I just can’t describe the sadness, and again I turn to them
Who are these special individuals whose souls are overflowing
With words of wisdom plucked from our universe that’s forever growing
I feel content to read the golden leaves of life from those who have
Paid the price of pain, love and misery
that life can sometimes bring
it had been a miserable place in his heart
disconnected the body mind and soul
wandered in a straightjacket of bedlam
insanity depression and misgivings
firmly rooted in a lonely Self
abandoned by madness and despair
a crack is where the light gets in
once the solar eclipse fissures
its own crevice down to the core
separated and broken he prayed
for a shift in awareness
an awakening of renewed consciousness
for lunacy to remove the dark side of the moon
a rainbow all by itself would not
open his chakras waiting for
transcendental rejuvenation
the here and there seemed to be a wayward journey
from the sombre past to an enlightened future
while impermanence seemed despondent
full of sorrow sadness and undeterred pain
shallow regret would not suffice
but meditation eased the path
once step at a time just for today
through reflection which condensed his resolve
forgiveness and honesty crept in
an inward shell split open disassociation
composed realities and wishes
desires acceptance and the courage to transpose
he did not allow himself to fail to recall
precedent misdemeanours
dared not to forget nor revel in glory
instead he fathomed that purpose
meaning and growth required
constant attention and that change can be done
a true crackdown emerged
at the luminous dawn of novel beginnings
In these days of austerity
It’s getting to be a treat
To go out for a few pints
And have a bite to eat,
So, Please Mr Pub Landlord
Grant me just a little wish
Bring back the vinegar bottle
So I can splash me bit of fish.
Those little plastic sachets
You’ve generously placed there
Supposedly have perforation
But they just refuse tear.
I need that essential liquid
Over me chips and cod
To transpose it from wonderful
To meal fit for a demi god.
I sit there by the mimute
Growing more and more tense
Looking at the pile of sachets
That just won’t dispense
In despair I eat my meal
Before it grows cold
But it’s just not the same
Without that liquid of gold.
I shall add that designer to
That list of those folk that
I’d like to meet in a dark alley
When I’ve got my baseball bat
A pox on the plastics industry
Once thought a packaging solution
Now a source of anger and despair
And the growing oceanic pollution.
I’m just a simple type of being
So many modern things I hate
Just give me fish and taties
Hot, served on a real plate
And I reall dont think that
I’m asking rather a lot
For vinegar in a real bottle
And salt and pepper in a pot.