Long Uncurl Poems
Long Uncurl Poems. Below are the most popular long Uncurl by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Uncurl poems by poem length and keyword.
O souls of the Island,
I have silently
heard through
tropical torrents
and surpassed
a million miles
of the milky seas,
away from
mint-marine
silhouettes of my
utopian wonderland,
as strawberry
ripples and
coconut-scented
musings called
upon my
flamboyant spirit,
to explore those
ebony-emeralds
of universe and
envelop my hope in
creamy pink shells.
I have soaked in
sepia impressions,
ebbing as
crepe currents
on splitting shores
and windsurfed
through the
hibiscus rays
of life by forbidding
heartache hymns
of yesteryears,
from lurking in
jewelled hours
of today
and built a
kryptonite kayak
to sail in the
turquoise times
of tomorrow.
For, now I know
that the
opalescent ocean
has chosen me,
to return the
riveting spirit
of sage-rufescent
rivulets back to
the 'Heart of
Humanity's Cosmos',
shaped in
soft serenades
of seraphim.
When the
whispers of a
mauve french-rose,
blooming within,
will uncurl their
farthest wish
in silken twinkles,
my eyes will always
remember these
watercolor heights
splashing crayon dusks
and revealing
silver moon truths,
for there's more
beyond the
neon networks
of syzygy pearl skies
and chestnut reefs,
yearning to be
cherished by the
blonde alchemy of love.
So, I abandon
those sooty
regrets that snorkel
with their fragile fins in
kohl-lily gulfs
and observe these
constellations
of intuitions, formed
by the star-kissed
manta rays and
sketch sagacious
saudades laced
with hope, as a
halo around the
lilac Pole Star.
In this mortal
seascape of
the seventh heaven,
every orphan
of darkness
shimmers as
the beacon
of lustrous
sugar-scintilla that
shapes this world,
in ivory-smitten
spheres of
magically
diaphanous helix,
waltzing in whispers
of wind and water.
Every lava-skinned,
feminine flame
of doleful daffodils
was once a glittered
cherry-red gardenia,
laced with
cardinal buds,
who nurtured
velvet seeds
in the womb of
celeste compassion
and edenic empathy.
And like myself,
every sea-maiden of
sequined lush ruminations,
crowned with
purple plumerias,
is a whimsical wayfinder,
wishing for ~
white bells of serenity
and blue-star petals of peace.
This year’s been so long. So long to Winter!
With blinding shaft and bright bleeding of sun,
the limbs of trees, like flames, trust their tinter.
Unfurl the soulful buds, ye Holy One!
The soak of pomp at ground level unfurls.
Angelic, sonorous romance of Spring.
See tea cups and saucers — bouquets uncurl.
Astir your eyes to the rebirth God brings.
True garden grows within — reds, purples, blues.
The rose, tulips, and wildflowers — His gifts.
Forsake not light of brightest scent and hue.
Lean in, darlings, and pluck the sweetest lift.
To live is Christ! Adoration of life!
So friends, spur away Winter and its strife.
3/6/2021
Breath of Spring
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
soup is what happens
when separate things consent
to becoming shared
not losing what they once were
only wanting to join in
In a bowl of soup
hard broken bones grow tender
old sinews uncurl—
nothing refuses the slow
coercion of a simmer
chopped ingredients
dropped into the iron pot
speak the same language—
a quiet conglomerate
poetry, more than its parts
held between two palms,
a cup of soup warms the soul
its steam curls unfolds—
inspiring insightful sips
in simple possible ways
around one wide pot
neighbors gather with stories
shared among good friends—
gathering glints and jangles
from the hoo-hah, bubbling, stew
Deer whisperer, had a full schedule, for she was trusted by so many.
She examined reindeer, elk to baby fawn, giving attention and love
They were brought by their kin and neighbors with nary a whinny.
Bridgette’s listening healing gift was from the heavens above.
Stories of trauma, upsetting vignettes, with pure PTS Disorder.
They were referred to her by friends, her healing gifts rapidly uncurl.
Bridgette was a deer whisperers, from Wyn Family, a sacred order.
Able to nurture and inspire hope in deer since she was a young girl.
One fawn was concerned about her mate, who was in the spirit world.
Bridgette put her in touch he assured her -he was in a wonderful place.
Many elk and moose came to her. Their stories rapidly unfurled.
Deer in more forests discovered her; found her quiet woodsy space.
Many nights she listened to the hearts and soul of the most innocent.
Those who suffered pain caused by man, arch enemy, one they fear.
She spent her life in the forest, nurturing deer, her time well spent.
Bridgette was joyful and excited to do what she could for the deer.
No one else loved so hard by so many of the most loving creatures.
Caring heart and soulful eyes, her two most endearing features.
She did meet a man once, but wisely decided to choose the deer.
Wind in woods still blow Bridgette's song you can clearly hear.
Ah, the fortitude of a circle
the circular wisdom
of spring to summer fall to winter
the spinning wheel’s twist of threads -
at once both self-reliant and reliant
my soul to embryo seed to seedling
the mettle it takes for the genesis;
for my poppy pod to wake and break
a tiny speck of matter a fleck of duality unleashed
I surrender my dormancy to the earth -
roots reach deep like pale squiggly fingers
..for my kernel was laid to rest to bustle to life..
while my headstrong head pushes up through the soil
I come to be.. like a new idea taking shape
a physical being grounded
while seeking the realm of the Sun
the source of spirit as essential
as the dark womb from which I emerge
with a heart budding with the universe from nothing
I sprout as a sprig from a rounded grain
conceived in a gold-dusted flurry of furry buzz..
a bumblebee's dalliance with the center of a whorl
a mote of pollen so mite-like -- but
m i g h t y
in purpose potential and power
woven together in the art of creation
wind-driven autumn rains and sips of melted snow
..mother’s milk during the passage of time..
sweetly feeds the gentle needs for my tender birth
daystar’s dabble-dance with shadows
charm the chill from the cradle of the garden floor -
warm ginger dapples flit to find me between
canopy gaps in swish and sway..
mini-spots mirroring the disk of the Sun reminds me;
the image of what I’ll become
when my solar heart shines in a petal-chalice of flame..
rapture stirs the layers of humus
penetrating my essence with a ripening
stoking my fortitude to fulfill my destiny
to break free of that which holds me down
and reach ever higher inspired by a promise;
the golden circle of solace.. the bull's-eye in the sky
whose glow does kiss and grow my soul -
my inner space of bright sure to blaze
in a blossom cup’s confinement
my soul to embryo seed to seedling
sown to assure my flowering
my earthy ascension fulfills Nature’s cycle of nativity;
above the loam I rise to unfurl
and lift my airy leaves’ uncurl up high
in praise of the light
as the end of a gray season curves
into the festive yellow equinox of resurgence
Grows the night as moonlit waves swivel
to unravel submerged mysteries,
dark fears uncurl into sapphire hopes,
lustrous divine chandelier on pier.
Grows the night to unveil moist layer
of echoed enchanting fog of faith,
flaming muse scintillates pearls of love,
with musk-soaked lullabies grows the night
June 9, 2020
REPEAT THE PHRASE Poetry Contest
Sponsor: nette onclaud
Title Chosen: GROWS THE NIGHT
9 syllables per line, checked on howmanysyllables.com
~Winner: Third Place
BRIAN'S SELECT H,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~Winner: Honorable Mention
On a damp Sunday, where the grass and earth
Call my name, out from the tangle of covers
On the humid wind, the forest beckons
With her arms of fallen leaves, twigs
Ferns uncurl
My heart is pounding in my black sweatshirt,
I unzip it and touch my collar bone, and then
The rough arm of a sycamore
Just when I thought I was King
She sways in the wind and wrestles me down
Just when I thought I was good at letting
Soft earth mend my brow, just like the worry doll
The white lilies and morels fade away
I know the moment when my heart pounds
And refuses to drive to work, to go back
And I scream silently, but I’m reflected in the lake
Lines and red rimmed eyes, but, something else
I spread my arms and look up, in time to see a Red Tail
Following along, parallel in the grey sky
Let’s let that be enough, crown of feathers
Enough, gentle lake wind
To dream another day to a close
Gavin, help me.
Your innocence is coveted now, you see.
I’ve fallen for this girl.
She’s got hearts in a wild twirl.
Noah, help me.
This courage runs away through the trees.
I’ve fallen for this girl;
Now she’s the only valuable pearl.
Jacob, help me.
Could use your shoulder to lean.
I’ve fallen for this girl,
While searching for her like a URL.
Jefferson, help me.
Still need the knowledge to an extended degree.
I’ve fallen for this girl,
But she makes it so hard to uncurl.
Matthew, help me.
When do we act? What’s the key?
I’ve fallen for this girl.
Right timing isn’t something you can feel.
Lily, help me.
You and your insights know how this works.
I’ve fallen for this girl.
Oughta give this a whirl.
Dominic, help me.
Care to offer a little wisdom to thee?
I’ve fallen for this girl,
Now it’s hard to see her as someone real.
Gia, help me.
Your lightheartedness is like the calming sea.
I’ve fallen for this girl,
And she might just cause a furl.
Jace, help me.
Acceptance is required to escape the scree.
I’ve fallen for this girl,
But the need to be grounded lies at the heel.
Christian, help me.
You could always create a perfect concord.
I’ve fallen for this girl,
Her loveliness could turn almost anyone into a squirrel.
Guiliano, help me.
How does one become worthy of wonderful Capri?
I’ve fallen for this girl,
And holiness is the thing to win her laurel.
Cole, help me.
This passion didn’t have you pay a rupee.
I’ve fallen for this girl.
Just need a little zeal.
Tyler, help me.
Now there’s panicking.
I’ve fallen for this girl,
But your grit can help get through it all.
The answers lie in setting everything free,
allow anxiety to fall and trust the process.
Baby, it’s okay to let the grass grow wild.
Nature has a way of keeping blades level.
Allow anxiety to fall and trust the process,
complete control is really just an illusion.
Nature has a way of keeping blades level,
embrace the animal clawing at your guts.
Complete control is really just an illusion,
let the raw razors uncurl and blossom.
Embrace the animal clawing at your guts,
demanding to be released from its cage.
Let the raw razors uncurl and blossom,
you’ll peak precisely when you need to.
Demanding to be released from its cage,
urges can only be contained for so long.
You’ll peak precisely when you need to,
baby it’s okay to let the grass grow wild.
Urges can only be contained for so long,
the answers lie in setting everything free.
Tiny new, soft green leaves,
Yet full of baby wrinkles
And winter sleep,
Uncurl and stretch,
Clinging to mother branches,
Basking in the unaccustomed
Long-awaited,
Sun-filled warmth.
Bird conversations
Fill the soft-stirred air.
Returning wanderers
Greet one another.
”Hello again! How was
Venezuela this year?
Who has the nest
In the arbor vitae now?”
I breathe the sweet April
Smell of hyacinths
And white and purple lilacs.
The stone steps are warm.
I lean into a corner,
Sun seeping into my body
Like heated syrup
Soaking into pancakes.
A space of time my own -
For just this moment
I belong to sun and earth
And birds and sky.
Eyes closed, I feel
And hear and smell
God’s world around me –
And know that it’s enough.