Long Unlace Poems
Long Unlace Poems. Below are the most popular long Unlace by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unlace poems by poem length and keyword.
As an orange sun sets in the west
Silhouetting the trees
Flashes of orange and bright, bright white
Sights eyes can not believe
What were those flashes of orange
And white so clean and bright
Curiosity got my interest
And covered all the fright
As soon as next day's sun came up
On a trek to explore
In the woods and up the mountain
This enigma can't ignore
It was a long hard climb to the top
But there were flowers blooming.
In the shade, on the forest floor
Seemed something was looming
In fright I crept along the path
Well beaten by creatures
Mice, squirrels, and chipmonks footsteps
Along the trail featured
Then there asleep just outside a cave
Wearing nothing but shoes
White high top athletic pair
An orange ape peruse
Holy cow, it's bigfoot sound asleep
Just inside the cave more
High top athletic shoes bright white
To keep them clean a chore
Bigfoot began to move and stretch
Behind a tree I hid
He began to unlace his shoes
And those big feet undid
Augh!!! The odor that came from those
Feet, I almost got sick
He went down to the creek and washed
Coming back really quick
He threw the smelly shoes in the wash
And powdered down some clean
Danced away across the forest
Awaking me from dreams
Sponsor: Skat A (Poet, Destroyer A)
Contest: Bigfoot (the contest)
Written: April 20, 2015
Author: Sara Kendrick
unfinished
Nightfall, Benson & Where the Dreams Settle Softly
By Alan J Winters
The sky folds down its silver wings,
and all the tired fields exhale.
A hush drifts over Montevideo roads,
settling like a hand on a restless heart.
You lie back, letting the dark
smooth the creases of the day.
Every worry loosens its grip,
every hope glows faint but faithful.
Somewhere, a small engine cools,
ticking like a prayer in metal.
Somewhere, a woman’s kindness
still warms the air around your name.
Rest now.
The night keeps watch.
And the dawn already knows
where to find you.
Where the Dreams Settle Softly
Night drapes its velvet over the fields,
and every tired breath finds a place to rest.
The world slows to a heartbeat’s hush,
steady as a porch light left on for you.
Let your thoughts unlace themselves,
falling easy like boots by the door.
Let the dark hold you without demand,
a cradle shaped from quiet mercy.
Somewhere, kindness remembers your name.
Somewhere, tomorrow is already warming its hands.
Sleep now.
Drift where the gentle things gather.
And may your dreams come soft,
sweet as dawn easing over Benson.
[Verse 1]
What if the words were real...
A woman, not just the ink I feel
And my pen was a wand,
To summon her soul with my hand
Could lines we write
Entwine two hearts in candlelight?
If truth could flow, unlace, expose—
I’d write a fire that softly glows
And who could know?
Connection... I suppose
[Pre-Chorus]
Like you, I’m wondering too
Why every page just pulls me through
These letters seem to know our names
Like fate wrote us into the flame
[Chorus]
What if the lines could kiss?
Every verse a gentle twist
On you and me... no in-between
Just magic made from poetry
What if these rhymes could breathe?
Pull you close with every beat
Girl, tell me what you feel...
What if the words were real?
[Verse 2]
Yes... I’d pull you in like gravity
Taste the things still lost in fantasy
Oh the thought, a sweet sensation
Never again—
Two hearts in separation
This feeling’s deep, mysterious
Untouched, intense, delirious
Like a stormy sea beneath our skin
Above the waves...
I hear your name in the wind
[Pre-Chorus]
So why does every line I write
Feel like I hold your hand each night?
Ink and paper blur the line
Between this dream and love defined
[Chorus]
What if the lines could kiss?
Every curve a kind of bliss
It’s you and me... on every page
A love that couldn’t be erased
What if these rhymes could breathe?
Wrap you up in melody
Girl, this feels surreal...
What if the words were real?
[Bridge]
They say it’s just imagination
But I feel the spark, the elevation
I didn’t write you just to cope...
You’re not a line,
You're hope
So if I say it — feel me near
You're not a muse, you're crystal clear
[Final]
What if the lines could kiss?
Turn a thought into your lips
It’s not a dream... it's meant to be
You and me in poetry
What if these rhymes could breathe?
Take us both where hearts believe
Girl, this is how I feel...
What if the words were real?
Yeah, what if the words...
Were real?
What if the words were real...
His face was lit on liquid screens,
The feed stuffed with curated dreams;
As AI smoothed away his every flaw,
To show what he'd long wished for.
The bathroom mirror once showed the truth,
What he really was, in his fading youth;
But his new AI mirror was not that dumb —
It showed what his desire had become.
The algorithm made a flawless avatar.
With a perfect smile, a wondrous star!
His real self behind the mirror of glass,
Watched on as the masquerade came to pass.
The comments flowed like sparkling wine:
“Oh, so handsome — you look so divine!”
As AI showed the self he wished to be,
Then stole his rough strewn humanity.
One night, he faced the screen alone,
No glowing mask, no softened tone;
He saw beneath the flawless art,
A stranger with a withering heart.
His borrowed beauty shone, bright and fair,
While something darker gathered there.
For youth preserved at such a cost
Leaves the deeper self unloved and lost.
The hidden soul he could not unlace,
Still watched him from behind his face;
Each self-deception, each polished lie snide,
Left darkened shadows to brood inside.
At last he struck the glowing screen,
To kill the ghost within the machine;
But when the perfect image died,
He faced his ruined self untied.
Where Have I Misplace My Little Girl
We’ve been through this before
Watching you grow up I swore
To keep you safe with my life embrace
Watching you I trace the tears run down your face
Wiping away the tears you shed to be replaced
You’re my miracle of life conceived
I try to reach to unlace,
Erase the sadness,
It's beyond my reach of understanding what you’re going through
Sorry you are feeling blue, you mustn’t
let your emotion’s cloud your judgment
Come here, you silly girl and let me bring the sunshine back to your face
Dance to chase your dreams and place yourself in my embrace
The world won’t change, but what you focus on can and may come true
If you change yourself you will change the world around you
Where have I misplace my little girl
You’re my stars
You’re my moonlight
You’re my rainbow
I love you, my darling daughter
As I talk to my little girl I remember the way my mother tried
to talk to me and sometimes I took for granted
10/30/2015
A RUTHERFORD PHRASIS 2
Joys day shall dawn,Christ shall cry
down crosses,with flood tides of
consolation.He blows a kiss from
afar,offers a sweet soft cheek to
the poor sinner,as Him they seek.
The promise of a new-found-land
with four summers to a year and
the bride may yet sing again of
the days of her youth.Seek this
your lodging,look through the
Father’s rooms in heaven.
An phrasis verse of Samuel Rutherford
using phrases selected from his letters.
No 103;167;221;245;277;321
A RUTHERFORD PHRASIS 3
Read over your life with the daylight
Of God.Be greedy for grace if the
garland of suffering unlace upon
your head and blossoms falls from
your joy.Our sand-glass is not so long
as we need to weary; time will eat
away and root our sorrows.Sorrows
loss and sadness.death are the worst
of things that are,’cept sin,but Christ
knoweth well what to make of them
An phrasis verse of Samuel Rutherford
using phrases selected from his letters.
No 59;82;99;122;131;193
Listen to me read these phrasis on youtube under name ichthyschiro
Once upon a time in an alluring place
Flourishing realm sweet with seasons showers pace
The earth food for life the lush greenness embrace
Array of flowering plants that twirl and lace
Birds twittered on leafy branches full of grace
Rare butterflies with wide, vibrant wings took chase
Bobbing on the breezeless air they dare through space
Charmed fairies if you gaze close into their face
They sniffed the air scared to be spotted they’ll race
Satyrs played pan flutes others danced everyplace
While others sang a phrase carrying a mace
“Steady my heart; scented blooms cannot unlace
The beauty of your face I cannot erase”
Dare venture down a well-trod maze; rocks retrace
Your way back dazed so be prepared just in case
2/13/2017
Poetry Contest: Monorhyme
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
"Blue Carnal"
Libertine take your time
unlace the chords of
the corset of my mind
cerebral you take me
walking barefoot towards you
like your welcomed stalker
through your windows
twin mirrors
naked flames'
unfurling reflections
Your mind is the tide that turns me
I am walking on the edge
Omnipresent you turn me over
dissolute you are too fast and hot
Blue Carnal
I am your soft core hard reckoning
(LadyLabyrinth/2018)
https://youtu.be/P3BPLzPOCxo
"She returned many times to this apartment. Her desire would begin long before each meeting, as she dressed for him. At all hours of the day his perfume would issue from some mysterious source and haunt her. Sometimes as she was about to cross a street, she would remember his scent so vividly that the turmoil between her legs would make her stand there, helpless, dilated. Something of it clung to her body and disturbed her at night when she was sleeping alone."
(Delta of Venus, Anais Nin)
The Estate of Forgetting Behind the Burnt Hill
And if I had discovered even in the tender old age of childhood
that the most bitter water is the sweet and sacred one from train stations,
the one cursed by the noisy silence of freedom buried alive,
motionless and eternal, oh, if I had known to unlace my black shoes
right on the frozen day of flames of ideals that burn in ice.
There had been a time of yours and of the wild domestics from the forest, when I screamed at them
(they listened to me impatiently and mad like all the gentle ones in the world):
beyond that hill desertified of trees gathers an estate of everyone,
the grapes wither blooming on new and unearthed ancient graves,
mad wisdom is forgiven by the light condemnation of heavy stones,
and mothers give birth unhappily to newborn children old and accompanied alone.
May it be my gift, expected without warning, the precious mirror of cheap mud,
to me, the ugly and beautiful one, the one rejuvenated in the wake like a forgetting of the horse,
but you, the one departed remaining here, flowing like a flying anchor,
who will silence for you the first and last ballad of the stopped spring,
who will pour and gather for you the chestnuts from thin bowls of cheap glass?
Smell of fresh and old smoke on windows and chimneys, and behold how freezes
the burning heart and the crystal calf's lung, – a gentle cruelty,
the hard weakness and its full void are rejected by us the welcoming...
How ugly beautiful it is to whisper to parents their names as nicknames,
to dress yourself undressed in heavy clothes only at sunrise of sunset,
when you can silence them shouting: don't believe me with trust, my stranger brothers,
beyond that hill desertified of greenery gathers scattered
an impoverished wealthy estate of everyone's nobody who are no more.
Oh, summer sun, all winter I have missed
your stale hot breath upon my upturned face;
your tongue that seers my flesh as I unlace
the strings on my bikini. I am kissed
by sultry lips that burn. I can’t resist!
I bask in light of day, and I embrace
Your penetrating rays that find each space
of skin exposed. I wait and plan my tryst.
And when you come, I’ll reverence you once more,
supine, as you would have me, to receive
your torrid touch as token of your lust.
In June we’ll meet as always by the lake shore.
I should not go. So well you can deceive.
Some lovers you have killed! Yet still I trust. . .
for Brian Strand's Your Choice,Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest