Long Unconcealed Poems

Long Unconcealed Poems. Below are the most popular long Unconcealed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unconcealed poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Creation

The formation of the earth was your endeavor
a place where love could live forever
when call out you do I will respond
for with your company I have grown fond

I will converse as you have shared your mind
to your requirements that guide be not blind
though I may have very little to say
for to listen is preeminently my way

You are God unto the foundation of the seas
your handiwork has shaped the varied trees
in joy adorned abounding meadows fair
the clothing that as garment our nature wear

With so many colors didst our planet robe
exquisite delights do cover skin of globe
the furthest reaches of our mankind's gaze
can only lift itself in worthy praise

Softly rises the light into caress at dawn
and the winding rivers all do sing your song
from soil God created this home to us belong
and a pivotal decision has it's course sent wrong

Mankind has marred this most beauteous of gift
In rape he does the land and cement to lift
tearing at the surface with sunken pits and mines
for minerals , gems and stones things he thinks that shines

Like a spreading plague upon the land
damaging the forests that are so grand
within our own pollution do we stand
the momentum of destruction by mans hand

The extent of our detriment is unconcealed
What God intends to do he has revealed
the fruit of our own deeds repaid in kind
and the hurtful things we so design

Mankind's damage comes from his love of things
not attending to our garden and the joy it brings
violence upon our land and to each other
massacres our earth and even brother

The collusion of devastation by wealthy men
those who seeks it's changes are put to end
intervention has been handed to earth's King
and very soon he will be changing everything

sources Genesis 1 & 2 Psalms Revelation 11:18

COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member Carnival Date

It was nineteen-eighty and I felt great -
off to the carnival with Brenda on a date. 
Am I really going out with this beauty?
Showing her a good time - that was my duty.
Under the stars, on the intramural field,
her excitement for the rides was unconcealed.
The stars and lights flashed in her pretty eyes -
it was like fireworks exploding in the skies, 
but I was looking at a lot more than that - 
and was hoping for more than rides and a chat.
For her fun was a ride on a Ferris wheel,
but I was all wrapped up in her sex appeal. 
We were together, but on a different page,  
The rides scared me - upside down in a cage!
My goodness, that was forty-five years ago.
I wish I could have shared her experience, though.  
And that was my first and last date with Brenda, 
a boy and a girl with a different agenda.
Form: Rhyme

SOURCES OF INSPIRATION

Inspiration is something
That can be hard to sought.
But motivation it shall bring
When it is caught in thought.

Endless sources of it there
To broaden up your mind.
They are out there everywhere
Waiting for you to find.

Mindset is a primary factor...
Is yours willing to
Be open and play the extractor?
This is up to you.

What you know plays special forces
On this battlefield.
Imagination in its courses...
Make it unconcealed.

What are you into? What moves you?
What is it you desire?
Anything certain proves to
Be something to inspire.

People leading by example...
Places you have been.
Objects plentiful and ample...
All that you have seen.

Experience can play a role
And also what you learn.
Progressing towards a goal
As well as what you yearn.

These are just to name a few
Sources which do exist.
Everything comes down to you
And your will to persist.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Common Intoxication

Unable to let feelings come to just slide by,
all poets feel life in tender seeing eyes.
Life marinates in a poet's empathy-rife heart,
to then cradle lay emotion in their core
until every angle of feel has been stored.
All a poet reality-feels is written unconcealed
as is somehow required of and for their zeal.

If a poet lives it, they give it deliberate depth
for such is essential to their very breath.
Poets wear a same colored, large-sized bruise
from years of hearing devastating world news.
New's blues lights many a poet's tender fuse.
Empathy demands a poet's sympathy clarity.
Poets take from piles of desperate density
to hopefully give it credible, helpful intensity.

Love, birth, death, life's complexities and simplicities
charge poetic awe, humor and emotional flexibilities.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Saw a Sundrop: Constanza

I saw a sundrop in a field,
a daffodil to be exact,
stand brave upon the snow-filled tract.

In blighting cold it would not yield;
long since its fellows disappeared
to that one spot it still adhered,

though flurries did the winter wield.
The autumn did its namesakes in
before the hoarfrost could begin

and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
with falling rain becoming snow.
The way of death it would not go

as though behind a covert shield
that kept its sunlit attitude
when sleet unto the land ensued.

I saw a sundrop in the field,
in blighting cold it would not yield,
though flurries did the winter wield
and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
as though behind a covert shield.

11/15/17
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Beautiful Bouquet of Red Roses -The Acrostic Style

~Beautiful Bouquet Of Red Roses~
(Acrostic)


Beautiful bouquet of vibrant very lovely red roses
Elegant fragrant they're a gift from God above
A most romantic enchantingly soft delicate flower so very
Unique and beautiful in every single way
Their permeating perfume is truly a delight to my heart
Indeed their powerful presence is a bright sight to my eyes
Find them in a diverse array of colors, hues and names and all
Under a ton of their very exuberant unconcealed mythical celebrated charm and the
List of their endless variety just goes on and on

Roses are my very favorite flowers of all of them out there and
On  this I can always honestly swear
Since they truly just amaze me  and
Enthrall  all of my heart and senses with all their unique loveliness and pure beauty.


Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2016


April.26.2016


Author's Notes:

An "Acrostic" is a poem or other form of writing in which the first letter, syllable or word of each line, paragraph or other recurring feature in the text spells out a word or a message. The word comes from the French "acrostiche" from post-classical Latin acrostichis.
Form: Acrostic

Lambent Lagoon

Gondoliers navigate these old canals
that saw much joy 
and cherished glory;
go and tell about your trades
and mischievous love-affairs,
when voluptuous women
enticed your many travels
and drove you into flaming passions... 
 
Lambent lagoon,
impeccably domineering,
but impoverished by a loss so great...
that even the Saint Mark's bells toll in regret!
Lambent lagoon,
your lost treasures weren't lavishly spent;
they are still here hidden by sturdy walls,
and cherished by people visiting
a city trapped in its magnificence,
unable to admit its decadence...

Proud and handsome gondoliers,
row your gondolas under the splendid bridges
and sing of a glorious past
that will never come back;
these streets,squares and canals
that marked its sudden rise,
also lamented its quick dawnfall...
with the sail-ships anchored at shore!

Lambent lagoon,
I rejoice in your indelible glories
and express grief for your losses;
but your greatness is still recaptured...
to comfirm an aura so unconcealed
by the appearance of the glimmering moon!
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Harvesting

Put Youself In Their Shoes Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Placed 1st
______________________________________________________

It was late August, during summer break,
We went to our grandma’s village called Snake.	
She had a small house beside a big lake;	 	
She was known to people as Mrs. Blake.

She liked to live in the village alone;
There she loved to live a life of her own.
In her little field, corn seeds, she had sown;
That time to its full size the crop had grown.

Around the field, there was a mountain range…	
There we went for harvesting for a change,
Not expecting anything in exchange.
As we were novices the work looked strange!

We worked since morning till evening untired; 
The art of harvesting we had acquired.
Our work in the fields everyone admired;
The children of the village got inspired.

After the work, we returned from the field;
People welcomed us with smiles unconcealed.
And honored us by giving us a shield;
To them our whereabouts grandma revealed.



   Picture: 3
   Date of posting the poem: 8/16/2023
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Passion

full of emotion
       pulsating
       brooding
       heaving
parsed
           by desire
with
      feelings
              of the heart
a
   voyage
             of discovery
poignant
aglow
       audacious
                 & 
            breathless
an intuitive
                tableaux
with
gestures
      explicit
        &
       visible
                 flooding
the moment

    overflowing
             frantic
!onging to
               give
floating
 in uncharted
                    seas
to a love
              afire
...
    to
       savour

sensuous
   burning
    with fiery
         passion
a consuming
         flame

driven to despair
all
   peace of mind
              no more
wounded
    deeply tortured
without
the semblance
            of reality

mediocrity

a silent shadow
on
circumstance

suddenly

             hope
in a sense of beauty

unforced earnestness
conceived

a state
      of fermentation
vivacious
    &
      exciting
what bliss
what delight
              free
              unconcealed

to know love
&
stand amazed
Form: Verse

Premium Member Roots of Resilience

In the realm of educational activism, a tale unfolds,
Where a hero, young and bold, his destiny beholds.
Nurtured by government schools, his mother's embrace,
A journey begins, a pledge to defend, in this boundless space.

Amidst the classroom echoes, where knowledge finds its birth,
A hero blossoms, shaped by education's girth.
His mother, the school, in symbiotic grace,
A nurturing haven, where dreams interlace.

With courage as his compass, and ideals so bright,
He steps into the world, ready to fight.
The hero emerges, from textbooks to the field,
A defender of education, his spirit unconcealed.

In the corridors of learning, where wisdom takes its stand,
He gathers strength, a protector so grand.
For in government schools, his roots deeply sown,
The hero rises, with purpose, courage, and his own.

With each challenge faced, his resolve grows strong,
Educational activism, his purpose lifelong.
To shield his mother, the school so dear,
Against the odds, he perseveres without fear.

Through battles of budget and storms of neglect,
The hero fights on, with intellect.
A vow to protect, an oath to uphold,
In the realm of education, his story is told.

For in this narrative, where activism prevails,
A hero emerges as the plot is unveiled.
Nurtured by government schools, his guiding light,
He stands resilient, in the fight.
Form: Narrative

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