Long Velour Poems
Long Velour Poems. Below are the most popular long Velour by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Velour poems by poem length and keyword.
Disjointed beings beg the questions – still
an ashen horse delivers what is owed.
Decisions kneel before compassion’s will,
to stop and help a turtle cross the road.
To comfort one another, brings them home,
confides the mornings, bedtimes now alone.
Concentric dreams preserve the lost to roam
among the ash and fields of sculptured stone.
From every foolish quest, those wasted years,
of mercy - time denies the rich and poor.
Whatever left, upon regrets and tears,
behind the coffins, curtains of velour.
Receive his blood the only way across,
eternal rock we trust in Savior’s Cross.
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Contest: Death
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Written: 10.20.17
Form: English Sonnet
In the palate of a rainbow purple is my muse , such depth, such splendour it entrances the eye it fixates only on it
This is the colour of great many things, it may be the lavender of lilacs, or the boldness of a ripe juicy plum , may be that designer plush velvety chair which up on you sit
Purple is represented by royalty on the crown it is displayed with regal attention one must pay
It can be found as amethyst so stellar in its purity , attractive to the bitterness of skeptics, set in the finest of jewelry there it lay
A colour like no other , it’s quite awe is displayed in the cherished summers dusk , that brings solace to the waiting mind
It pretties up the scenery of the naked forest and speckles it in kind
Sensory bliss , euphoric, a constant for a master piece work of art , unique with a pleasure so appealing for all to witness that the heart can see
A Purple Heart for valour, the pleasing touch of velour , the only colour of a vintage El Camino as on drives off into the sunset , purple it the muse for me
The twinkling stars light up the Night,
creating a magical sight.
And a rising moon starts to glow,
against the black backdrop of space.
Held in Night's ebony embrace,
Luna's light gilds the clouds below.
Visible to the naked eye,
shooting stars zip through the Night sky.
And spinning perceptively slow,
the Milky Way seems surreal;
a spiraling galactic wheel
superimposed on Night's shadow.
The twinkling stars light up the Night,
light-years away, and yet still bright.
Quasars and pulsars, twirling fast,
appear to flicker as they spin.
And once these spinning lights begin
rotating, they are unsurpassed.
The universe is God's domain:
something we can't, as yet, explain.
And we don't know how long it'll last;
for it may expand forever.
We see no end, whatsoever,
for it appears immensely vast.
Look up and behold the grandeur
of a jewel-encrusted sky,
swaddled in velvety velour.
VERSE I
she brushed across my shoulders
the bedroom light broke
a breasted scimitar—dancing thoracic throat
what I once outran—now presses my lips
she carried no black-wing omen
yet every breath drew near
purple velvet summons
Murdering me with Cashmere.
PRE-CHORUS I
kiss drawn, the walls slant inward
and rouge, the dark-root took shape—
as if her inborne blackwork
could make the night a colourless drape.
CHORUS I
Murdering me with Cashmere
tugging at my countless heartbeats
stripping me down to bare nerve
Murdering me with Cashmere
touch that lifted a ceiling curve
a birthright that denied me standing
VERSE II
the air lost a beat near her
piano shuttered its strings
her keratin ruled its hidden kingdoms
where songs outlived clipped-wings
one quick brush of softness
could tilt the atmosphere—
an unquestionable sovereign reign
Murdering me with Cashmere.
PRE-CHORUS II
marrow-sapped, my bones bleached white
and oooh, my will to power grew thin
her presence pressed antique velour
against my browning-paper skin
a blue-litracution mocked my manly core
CHORUS II
Murdering me with Cashmere
negating my defenses
melting my deep fear
Murdering me—only Cashmere
mist that would not recede
a spell that outlasted me
BRIDGE
she stood there—the verdict given
queen without a crown
her secrets a crashing thunder
hinged to pin me down
and I—
climbed, she was higher
and her hemlock closed in—too near
I fell into her ghast-lit shadow
Murdered soft by Cashmere.
FINAL CHORUS
Murdering me with Cashmere
kindness with a strangler’s grip
a calm that finished the work
Murdering me in Cashmere
queen in vestment of highness—
Lady Caledonia Blue— cyanotic.
OUTRO
she brushed across my shoulders
the world skipped a breath to grieve
softness that occluded on my lungs and stayed
refused to let me leave
her after-mint lodged in my vertebral mind
thorn in every flowing tear—
the night she claimed my arrhythmic heartbeat
Murdering me with Cashmere.
The bayou sky flies a catfish moon over swamp gators
And cottonmouth vipers. Accordions, fiddles, and rub board vests
Make their ramble through the undergrowth hot on the trail
Of a sultry midsummer house party in Sweat Neck, Louisiana.
All the usual suspects are there. Sharkskin Slim doffs his topper
To Ruby and Rose - the Harlequin Twins. They curtsy in reply.
They came to town to show local folks how business gets done.
Fast Man is fresh from stabbing Satan in the back; same as before.
Snorkel-nose Nelson lays his blackjack on the table.
Pelican-neck LeBeau considers the odds and spits.
A honeysuckle breeze wafts across the terrace.
Eucalyptus, peppermint, and pine tar grace the veranda
Where Miss Bunny Bouche, in her famous lavender velour,
Garners attention from spy boys eying Cajun temptations
With considerably hardened intentions. Several teamsters
Just in from Shreveport dance lively while a claw hammer fiddler
Plays Tee Nah Nah. Essential words are suggested in the space
Between the jug and the mason jar. They speak of collard green
Creole rice served with crayfish in roux étouffée. The snap beans
Are sure enough salted. The shrimp gumbo is suitably spiced.
Sad Hannah sits off in the corner, her motives transparent
As parish politics. She’s been rumored to have dabbled
In arson crafts she’d learned at Magdalena’s Den of Sin,
But no one ever really pays her much mind.
She’s been deliberating the consequence of a life not lived,
And sees a glimmer of hope in the eye of a hurricane lamp.
Her chance of escaping obscurity erupts through the hall.
So now, it’s last call and damn it all, take a left at the crossroads,
And be sure to turn your mattress over when it’s time to climb downstairs.
And as for Hannah, sad Hannah, well, it’s either up Ladder Lane
Then down Hemp Alley, or else it’s just a lonely walk home.
Down where the cypress trees cease their singing,
And the sun-wrought chariots are known no more,
A velour quietude is slowly clinging,
To the chalcedony marble shore.
Here, the silver Lethe murmurs, slow and deep,
A lullaby to souls who wish to sleep.
No longer do I chase the fleeing day,
No longer do I fight the golden light,
For I have found the shades of quiet gray,
That anchors the everlasting night.
O, softest fall, more gentle than the dew,
That rests upon Persephone’s soft bed,
Here in this solemn, silver-shadowed view,
Where all the hasty, thrashing thoughts are dead.
The helmet of the King is set aside,
To watch the slow and silent shades abide.
No fear can enter through the granite gates,
Where poppies grow in fields of endless hush,
Only the peaceful, tranquil waiting waits,
Without a clamor or a sudden rush.
The air is cool, a breath of quiet stone,
That soothes the burning forehead of the mind,
I leave the weight of standing all alone,
And leave the restless, warring winds behind.
Here, where the soul is safe, from sorrow free,
Wrapped in the calm, unmoving dark, I lie,
The silent King smiles directly at me,
Beneath the vast and starry-hearted sky.
And in this sleep, the soul begins to know,
That darkness is the sweetest, quiet friend,
A noiseless river that does softly flow,
With peace and dream-filled silence at the end.
There is a grandeur in this cold, still deep,
Where nothing stirs, and nothing dares to scream,
A slow, profound, and monumental sleep,
Can wash away the memory of a dream.
I fall, I drift, into the tranquil void,
Where shadows dance in slow and steady time,
Where every anxious fragment is destroyed,
And all the darkness flows in gentle rhyme.
It is the welcome rest, the final rest,
The softest, deepest, desired release,
A quiet, silent, and forgotten quest,
That leaves the weary traveler at peace.
Words whispered across broad spaces
sounded loudly to most
those in attendance heard from the whispers
words that could crumble volcano's
and cause boulders to slide into the sea.
Across broad spaces we saw visions of happiness, made sad by
the need of those who wanted.
Wishes of those on there knee's
she wishes her marriage to be negated
she had already written the letter for her groom -to -be
to read after she allowed him to vent his anger.
of course she was smart enough to have been miles
and miles away from him.
We wondered if she'd stage an event to see if she'd find someone to care for her.
those words come from those who wish for fairytales
and believe in Unideceptors and Stought Flanlets
shall trumpets sound from her kisses
that she believes all in the world admire her, and her ways are those of
ambition, less velour.
compliment the chef, and spoil the surprise
His pallet is often a little sharper than others.
who in a rational mind wishes to allow her future husband to vent?
might such be the beginnings of future debates, and augments.
colorful are the brilliance of those who paint beautiful skies
that the reality of these doings make best conversation.
than are these the acts of rebels affiliated with a cause?
What whispers are these, heard by those who are lovers.
Where we sleep there might be quilts
Or comforters or spreads
Or blankets made in varied styles
To warm us in our beds.
Some might prefer a cashmere throw
Or one hand-knit in wool,
While others cozy up to down
And can’t resist its pull.
A cotton blanket, or velour,
Keeps many feeling snug,
While weighted covers, loved by few,
In most evoke a shrug.
A coverlet atop a bed
Will make it look complete,
Yet lots of sleepers get along
With just an unlined sheet.
Still, no matter what your preference,
Any cover is okay,
But be careful that your partner
Doesn’t tug it all away!
I saw you standing by tree holding on to the leaves and folding your hands as the untold mystery with bare back and rocks walk through the wood looking for the man.
I stand aloof in the dark waiting for you to cross as the elephant cut through the tree leveling thick woods across the river, braking branches sweeping over dry grass while the minstrel with its fiery steps march towards the wood, beating drums and ringing bell to appease the devil in hell.
The clouds suddenly open wide spewing warm water from its side, filling up ditches and alley, back street and Corner Street and bursting up the leeves, such is the job of nature; you can walk with or embrace it.
I long for the day to come when I am no longer on the run. I will breathe fresh air and frolics on wet sand and ride the big waves on a sun drenched island. And early in the morning I will have continental breakfast on the balcony with my mysterious family. I will and screw the daylight out of the fool as it gathers the tools and raise you to another level of consciousness.
The wind is blowing lightly through the fields and I can feel your heart catering to my needs, reality is just seeping in and the lights are growing dim. At noon the sun raises its voice in the sweltering heat sending rockets through the sky and landing on thin air. I can see you over the horizons briefing strong men and women of velour with daisy and buttercup and forget me not and the lotus staring at the age old cactus.
Good deeds cannot be forgotten and some stories cannot be told the sweltering heat is rising from the east and the passage is opening into the deep. The mud is gathering in the trench and lions are thrown out of the den, their Jaws and teeth are broken and their hands and feet are severed. They cannot harm you again and they can never disturb your family or your friends. The water is receding and secret is revealing, I will see you next evening.
When you come to the door walk slowly beneath the wind and listen carefully to the bangs, the rustles, the hoots and the toots and take off your shoes, choose your words carefully balance your mind and you will find the harmony in you.
Soft, velour breaths, fill our room.
Ah, your svelte body, makes me swoon.
Hold me so tight, breathless please?
As I want to wholly die, from your squeeze.
Light the gardenia candle, make shadows dance.
Don’t let them blow out, not a chance!
Sandalwood cream, I shall rub on your back.
Our moments together, always on track.
Close the floral shades, we desire our privacy.
The silent pines, scent us but cannot see.
I shall never forget, magic nights together.
We floated as moonlit feathers, in a land of forever!
7/5/2022
~3~