Long Velvet Poems

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


Premium Member Lord Valentine's Heart

To thee, my love, I send a well worn heart
though wrapped in crimson satin and unbeating
I fill it with sweet meats and love's entreating's
Oh please return, we've been too long apart.

I brood at break of dawn and setting sun
behind the velvet cloth of our bower.
I stare from arched turrets in our tower
and strain to hear the homeward hoof beats start.

Hear me now return, I'm left with but a part
of a life not worth living without my dove.
Your Valentine is but a token love,
for needs be, I've much more to impart.

To thee, my better half, my sweetest bride
will you return to me, will you homeward ride.


*A Canzone is a pre-curser to the sonnet
and has 10-11 mixed metered lines, I have used
Dante's end rhyme pattern [abbcdeeccffcgg]

Contest: Your Best Rhyme
Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Form: Canzone


Premium Member Hate Me in Crystals of Rain

Hate Me in Crystals of Rain

Hate me because I'm rain of words of liquid crystal and frozen fire bright,
that beat randomly on the windows of your soul like meteorites of water falling,
I'm wandering wind with unwise thoughts floating through the desert of the mind's flight,
and a mad wave from troubled waters crashing into metallic void's dark calling.

Hate me because I'm a smile too ironic carved in shimmering ice so cold,
and maybe I spoiled a good moment for you with my teeth of corroded silver pain,
I'm just the drunk and melancholic madman who dances with his shadows old,
wandering at night beneath the moon like a wax butterfly burned by stars' domain.

Hate me because my cruel hand of living cold marble wouldn't ever dare,
to caress any face or body but only to cut the empty air in two,
and in my somewhat hungry fall for love and burned light beyond repair,
I took you with me into emptiness on stairs of smoke without a clue.

Hate me, because I build a wall within me from bricks of silence and amber stone,
because I put a lock on love's gates with keys thrown in the lost ocean's deep,
and I want you to know that magically I want pain's arms to claim me as its own,
for suffering to embrace me like a bride dressed in jade tears I keep.

Hate me not because I'm to blame but because that's the natural cosmic thing to be,
when I fled in darkness from light like a moth frightened by the flame's bright art,
I preferred to be silent like a tomb and not to love with my mouth of stone so free,
to remain an ice statue in a garden where flowers cry mercury from the heart.

Hate me, but never forget in your dreams of silk and amber glowing bright and clear,
that all I didn't know how to give you as an offering was pure love's sacred flame,
and in pain, when night shows itself with its black velvet face drawing near,
only I still burn smoldering with memory like a magic candle in wind without shame.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Phoenix Dreams In the Realm of Crows

“Phoenix Dreams in the Realm of Crows” 

wake up 
shake up 
kaleidoscope girl

jigsaw
see saw 
fit the pieces

she 
another world
away 

the in-betweeen
flows easily
through the veil

safe harbour 
opening 
portals 

for ocean steering 
curious kaleidoscope
stories to sew

the slip stitch
love knot cast
anchor’s raised

time’s racing
discharge fear
or remain

feathers spreading
in the realm 
of crows

poetic 
messengers
casting their spells 

for opening 
tombs turning 
dead leaves to tomes

in the crowded hideaway 
where shorthand, fixed tight to masts,
swings suspended for transcribing

dark nights,
where soft and fierce
treasure dwells

feathers spreading
cunning cuneiform for ghosts
who speak in tongues

transformative
strange letters 
unfurling

spreading 
deep indigo and 
jesserant jet feathers 

swords and keys 
for plundering
and opening

impromptu places
mysterious better nests 
for hidden golden eggs 

broken yoked, 
freed 
spilling silver spoons,

curl love drunk
into warm skinned 
velvet embryos

hugging new bodies 
of work, slick palaces 
for bedding 

better never-endings
never ending, 
electric muses 

flocked 
and kissing 
sated singing 

dreams
in the realm 
of crows 

the in-betweeen
flows easily
through the veil

safe harbour 
opening 
portals 

for ocean steering 
bejewelled St Elmo 
phoenix fire stories lit, to sew

the slip stitch
love knot cast
anchor’s raised

astral charting 
glossy winged stars
albatross angels 

waxing lyrical
follies and flights
ignited, illuminating 

phoenix dreams
in the realm
of crows

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)



“Hideaway”/ Queens of the Stone Age
https://youtu.be/2dcbcic06vw


"Let It Happen" / Tame Impala
https://youtu.be/NMRhx71bGo4


"Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control"/Tame Impala
https://youtu.be/C1VelTQ3hdY















Crow Symbolism 
https://www.onthefeeder.com/crow-symbolism/



LYRICS/ “Hideaway”, Queens of the Stone Age 
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/queensofthestoneage/hideaway.html


LYRICS/"Let It Happen", Tame Impala
https://genius.com/Tame-impala-let-it-happen-lyrics

Premium Member Alienation

"Alienation"


Burning through the atmosphere
a diamond hugs herculean, demanding, meteoric,
fast like a sharp spear aimed at Zion in the
obsidian night sky deep, so vast, dotted here
and there with other anaemic diamantés
twinkling, then dimming, as if in despair, 
they don’t shine as bright
nor so fair, 
this immolator is without peer
Lion of Judah, presence felt near.

A shooting star into the stratosphere?
Leaving a blistering debris trail in its wake.
A Sonic Boom breaks through the veil
sends out sound waves, touching, feeling, 
slightly off-rail
sends out a Revelation heralding 
resounding eardrum shattering tear -  
KA-BOOM!
just like some glamour chick’s walked into the room
in 6 inch killer stilettos, 
curve hugging deep velvet
the sub-level indigo blues,
shaking everything in the place
slams the door, her audience now captive 
is frozen in place, tittering amongst themselves, 
“Here’s something new”;
the world awakes to
crushed violets, heliotropes, shell pinks, eggshell pale blues;
she rises above him
he lifts his face.
Arrival in this 
AlienNation 
no Ocean, a barren place
Holding pattern and station. 
Her vessel lands with a thud, 
breaks the bedrock, dirt
she steps through the portal
away from it all, she’s escaping
this asylum, 
it’s not evolving, it’s not birth
a re-entry of sorts, 
a vacuum sucking back down to 
Deadly Earth.

(Lovejoy-Burton/ Dec 2017)

(1)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MEfqTlKPqfI

Premium Member Bazaar

Vendors ply their trade in open air without an air or grace,
the velvet chocolate slabs so neatly laid,
suitable for vegans but a salve to pointless guilt  the label said,
my texting fingers drip
with honeyed scruple,
Like dates?
give us this day our daily bread is how we earn our corn,
a corny line no less,
pumpkin seed in barrels  dot each loaf as if  it were an  invite
to a milling throng
another corny item on the menu,
off the wall, off the tongue and off the fork
from shell to shelf is how we go to market with such buzzword brand elan.
Yet us artisans must surely set our sights beyond the sound of cash tills or the pin pad swipe and scan zeitgeist


More Black Out Poetry

In the velvet hush of evening’s fall,
Where shadows weave a gentle thrall,
The whispers rise, a sacred call,
From hearts that wear the night like shawl.

Beneath the moon’s soft silver veil,
Their voices strong, their spirits frail,
Yet through the dark, they will prevail,
Their truth, a quiet, mournful wail.

In every line, the pain takes flight,
A dance of words through endless night,
They pen the wrongs, the desperate plight,
Yet find in dark, a spark of light.

The stars above, a thousand eyes,
Bear witness to the tears, the cries,
But still, their songs of hope arise,
A testament that never dies.

For in the ink, both black and bold,
Are stories that are seldom told,
Of chains unbroken, dreams unsold,
A history of strength, controlled.

They sing of skies both vast and free,
Of oceans deep, an endless sea,
Where hearts and minds, though bound, might be
Released through blackened poetry.

And so, they write, through endless night,
Their words a beacon, burning bright,
In every verse, they claim their right,
To be, to live, to shine in light.
Form: Rhyme

My Love Is Like a Corpse

My love is like a corpse
Upon the gothic floor
Where I have wept till soul is dry
With eyes like corpses when they rise
Behold the sun which melts away
Dying daily with no shame
What shone what found I cannot say
But love is cruel in its way
A kiss like vampires delight
To feed so rabidly at night
As lips of tender crimson drip
Strange man should pine to die like this
And low a shadow in the trees
With moon—and sun upon her knees
Tis darkness in its velvet garb
The mother of my morbid heart
For there are shadows like to trees
They grow surplanting us beneath
Their roots are sorrow in our heart
Such is the macabre of their art
As when upon the listlessness of world
I roam or linger and the breeze
Has coughed and spat its mist on me
A kiss oh naiad of the night
Those lips have cursed my mortal plight
A kiss as soft as corpses breath
Imparting unto me
Some faint but mellow memory
Of love-as love is tragically

Premium Member Tarts

My mind was full of tangled curls
and ruddy cheeks by firelight
of velvet garments soon unfurled
and crevices of pure delight
all revealed afore mornings light.

My hands were full of beard and brow
the pang of drawing, throaty, bite
and pon an outturned thigh I vow
a tongue slowly roamed to excite
each gift a joy we did invite.

My arms were full of barrel chest
as ‘pon the rounded keg I lay
and oft I moaned at his behest
as ‘pon me Milord sweetly play
in lovers’ nest of disarray.

My heart was full of melody
the pounding sound of beating hearts
and thus we found the recipe
a sumptuous spree love’s upstart 
Milord Knight and his Royal tart…

Premium Member I kissed the night like an old lover, in memory of days long past

I kissed the night like an old lover, in memory of days long past,
drinking from its shadows like a deep, unsettling crimson wine,
loneliness wore a velvet cloak, silky and heavy like a forgotten dream,
and I, a smile stitched with threads of melancholy, let myself be lost in the evening's decline.
The moon, a silent witness, watched over our dance of shadows and longing,
whispering stories from long ago, where time stretches and thins,
and the stars, those jewels scattered across the dark sky,
reflected in the night’s glass, adding a touch of eternity.
On empty streets, the echo of my steps was the perfect accompaniment,
for the symphony of silence singing in my heart with a note of nostalgia,
each dark corner revealed the secrets of a world hidden from view,
where shadows danced gracefully in the pale light of old lanterns.
In this embrace with the night, I found a peace that the day refuses,
a silence that speaks with the voice of a lost but never forgotten love,
and in that suspended moment, I understood that the night is not just darkness,
but a canvas of hidden emotions, a mirror of my wandering soul.
Thus, I will continue to kiss the night like a rediscovered old lover,
to drink from its shadows, to lose myself in the velvet of loneliness,
for in this waltz of shadows and light, I find the truth of my being,
a truth that shines brighter than any ray of light.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Why I write

For velvet vanity and silver sanity
I write to unite mind and heart on sleeve
To free myself while imprisoning God in me
I write to escape at the same time I chase
My own path and wrath just to save face
I write to erase my sins and rewrite them 
But this time with a whimsical smile 
For a spoonful of sugar 
helps the medicine go down
And like the rabbit 
I love a good hole
To sink into
I write because I feel less alive
When I do not
Yet when I do I am not satisfied 
So for me it is a passion
That I endure brief periods of time
I wanted to be eloquent and 
Instead I form words like
A babbling brook splashing
Thrashing about hoping to travel
From one place to another 
In the end I am the only one wet

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