Long Velveteen Poems
Long Velveteen Poems. Below are the most popular long Velveteen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Velveteen poems by poem length and keyword.
These eyes have often been solaced by twilight's cotton candy pillows
moving silently towards a sky's velveteen blanket and angels'silver gowns
By gazing over hills to where old country church bells
and crickets play harmonious sounds.
These eyes have often been solaced by honey coloured shadows
pouring moonlight zest across the rose-plum of my cheek
By little antique lamplights which illuminate my soul's dark cobbled street.
By winds carrying sea-salts to a fragrant golden sand
By tides washing out corals to a distant land.
These eyes have often been solaced by your return
to this vacant room inside my heart
By the hush-hushed whisper of your voice
By the embrace of your arms.
By the way you love me...
By the way you need me...
By the way you want me...
Like an autumn bonfire
before next dawning dew fall
By the way you lean on me.
“Slips the Blue Satine”
Desire bites
a sonnet ripped
where the voice projects
through glossy cherry bit lips
down a telephone line
wrapped around long legs
speaking soft words
welcoming you in like a quilled whip
Freedom bites
a too serious sonnet smiles
then progresses to apply
velveteen kisses where the lips
tie a loose noose of words like pearls
around the sound conduit
curbing the mind
whispering to soft curves,
a roadmap
written across body
eyelids, flushed naked cheeks
neck down to hips
where the key turns
poetry speaks
blood drawn
the heart has teeth
Gaga’s gone
all evolutionary
too much of too much
she denudes the blue Satine easily
divesting all hopelessness of
the hounds barking
their haranguing hangdog habits
superlatives exaggerated
hyperbolical expressions of praise
blessed again in the wasted chronicles of time
her hand’s firmly fixed
around the gear stick
stilettos accelerate sharp
instructions from the driver’s seat
switching gears up
behind the fortune wheel
treasure sits
“pull your head back in”, she says
“the Lotus Eaters
at Loon Junction
are on the prowl,
they’ll tear you to bits”.
"humour me," he says,
"let me off my leash".
(LadyLabyrinth/2021)
“Small Town Witch”/ Sneaker Pimps
https://youtu.be/M6zh5rAlZ18
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Velveteen_Rabbit
Sonnet 106.
The Dilettante Diaries: "Goin' Gangsta on the Road to The Lotus Eaters at Loon Junction" -
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_dilettante_diaries_goin_gangsta_on_the_road_to_the_lotus_eaters_at_loon_junction_1059240
LYRICS/"Small Town Witch", Sneaker Pimps
https://genius.com/Sneaker-pimps-small-town-witch-lyrics
In the garden of the almost blossom
stood Heirarchy the leader of the Neverwere
He paused as the Varenbirds disappeared within themselves
as they circled high above.
The velveteen sunrise shimmered above the diamond mountains
fractures of blue and reds dazzled his eyes for a moment
he slid his rough hands across his brow as he lowered himself to the ground.
His thoughts bounced across the unmoved water
a school of Labrinths.trapped within its depths.kept his gaze for a few moments.
He lay his head on the firegrass, its flames gently swayed against his gentle skin.
For any watching a man enjoying the joys of day but for those who knew him they could see the torment of a good man forced to war.
As he lay prone in the licking flames, he slowly closed his eyes
and took a deep breath.
His hand now felt the hold of another.turning on his side to bathe
in Summerias golden eyes, as she disarmed him with her crooked smile.
From his depths he could not contain the joy in his returned smile.
Still so silent, his thoughts of the Sluzen beast the silent killers who
roamed within the wilderness on the outskirts of the citadel.A remembrance of a childhood friend consumed by the Sluzen as they defied the warnings.
Many a throat had been slashed by his assassin bride, a warrior of some repute, but here in the beauty of the slivered sunrise her softness
was unquestionable.
With hesitation he began to speak, a finger touched to lips stopping him mid word.
No my love just lie back with me and let the morning be born
He lay back stretching his hand for his love
as fingers intertwined he closed his heavy eyes once more.
This moment of calm that hid his turmoil, if the Neverwere were to be
the only course was war
Sometimes more is less –
like, overworking a painting,
blurring the eye-feast with an
excess of dabs and strokes, a
mix reminding me of too deeply
breathed tokes; or a poem, with
a vomit of words – nixing participation
for the reader, the mental pecks
he came for, like a bird at a
mystical feeder, that odd-ball
supplier, limping away on one
good leg, a strange god in
unnatural, featherless attire, yet
a bird in heart, but not quite the
airborne flier~he dreams...
I pause, at the lit-edge of clouds...
content to linger, and simply
wonder of the beaming linings,
careful not to invade; I stop,
at the visual, velveteen texture
of roses, keeping my distance,
inhaling the intoxicating wafts
while restraining my hand of
usual dissection – like the surging
of your love, freely given~allowing
me my private melt, as I, you, an
intimate journey into uncharted
bliss....
There is more to a flower than just a flower
There's a spreading fragrance surrounding the air.
There are velveteen petals, falling and scattering,
all over my skin, and a daisy in my hair.
There is more to the wind than just a wind
There was never a breeze that hadn't whispered
my beloved's name.It breathes as it pleases,
It drifts purple leaves slowly in my dreams
with a soft and gentle sway.
There is more to the bird than just a bird
There's music in each garden
with an angel song to be heard.
There's a flutter, a heartbeat
There are wings of a freedom conquered.
There is more to the moon and the stars
than just a moon and a star.
They brighten the night, like a fire-fly
Wherever you are, no distance is too far
No sky is too high.
There is more to ocean waves
than just an ocean wave.
Every coast they embrace
Splashing spumes on our toes
and moist salt on our face.
With each wave that we ride
We will win the tide, which with strength
comes crashing the feelings we hide.
There is more to fire than just a fire
There is passion , desire.
With its red curving lines
It brings warmth to the eyes
To our dark moors brings light
This fire is alive.
With its embers and flames
On winter frosty days
It flickers and burns,
keeping the cold away.
There is more to humans than humans
So much more to who we are.
There is soul and compassion
There is love in the present
There is joy which resides
In each one of us.
There is more to this world than just a world
If you do not believe, just follow me.
I will take you to places,Such magical places
where beauty keeps showing
wherever we'll be.
In a world where love has forgotten its place, lost all meaning, left floundering in the mud—courage has found its nirvanic horizon, its ruby flames rise up in the end~ Poetess
Destroyed, slain,
smashed and driven to the ground~
a brutal odyssey of dispiritedness
of rude awakenings endured
around this, fire kept burning within
intoxicating every vein in my body
when welled up eyes, pools of tears fallen
I was the ocean, the lone firebird that flies over
a lone star ablaze, weightless, free-spirited
and alas, rising from the ashes
in glorious splendor for all to observe and marvel
born outside rose walls, from wind, at night,
from red clay, the flowers and the mud,
weeds and roots they know my name
its not attention I seek, its resonance
smashed and driven to the ground~
ignored, displaced, and all but forgotten
and from this despair, I am the phoenix rising
f r o m t h e a s h e s are the gauze wings,
refined in sapphire gossamer velveteen
walls turn to rubble, no rose-stone left unturned,
left unseen is what most is valued, light sifts thru
I’ve won life’s prize—contentment's invaluable gifts
Why in his presence, did her soft heart, always like sweet
cotton candy melt?
Orchestral songs engendered the tenderest feelings, to her
heart, so aquamarine velvet.
Such starlit, subtle, shameless, suggestive glances!
An antennae in every way was she, inviting kaleidoscopic,
tsunamic romances.
On the fog cradled ship, with a cape of fog, blessing her
chiseled,moonbeam face,
His arms enclosed her in a velveteen gold, cuddled in his
silent, starshine embrace.
Oh, poetess, penning of feelings of deep intimacy.
Your poem, will be stamped “romantic “?
A term, you loathe and find so very meaningless and worse,
utterly curt and disgustingly pedantic!
But only a poet who knows your heart to its scarlet
inner flaming core,
Has the outstanding bravissimo to knock on your truly
insatiable, heart’s-door!
Dare he try his wings and wish for such magically,
exotic, sensual satisfaction?
Wrapped in those twilight, wild, moonbeamed curls
of Eurydice’s Olympian extraction!
6/4/2024
I met her when I was sixteen or seventeen
One old mean vicious queen called Josephine
Her skin the texture of a tangerine
And its color plasticine aquamarine
Obsessed with her aging beauty hardly pristine
Deeply tormented by the hope of cure or vaccine
I vividly remember the wildest bizarre surreal scene
It was in between mid-October and the eve of Halloween
When she lined our trampoline with a thick coat of vaseline
She made us hop like mexican jumping beans that evil queen
There we were me and my friends Maureen Kathleen and Eileen
She resented our youth and let us loose in an old pinball machine
Sea green with envy screaming out spells of velveteen opaline
This was her idea of some weird evergreen rejuvenation machine
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on March 14, 2019 for contest “GREEN” HUMOR, OLD OR NEW sponsored by CAROLYN DEVONSHIRE - RANKED 4TH
While cleaning house ahead of our family’s summer birthday party
dusting every cranny…all the nooks…
I paused as I began to dust a shelf that housed old children’s books.
Children’s books we haven’t read in years…as so much time’s elapsed…since we read them to our children…and grandchildren…when they still fit upon our laps.
Some books we read only once…some had messages to impart
some we read so many times…we knew them all by heart.
Some books still looked as good as new…while others showed their age
as I opened each one gingerly…as I reminisced through every page
From Dr. Seuss to Little Golden books…to Peter Pan who flew among the stars…From Goodnight Moon and the Velveteen rabbit…to Where the Wild Things Are.
Each book not only contains a story…but is a memory by itself…
which is why, together, they have found a treasured place upon our shelf.
Although these books were essential to our children’s and grandchildren’s growing wings…we haven’t read to them in years…as they’ve flown on to other things..
I can’t help but think, however, these books remember when our children and grandchildren were a little smaller…and when they come to visit…
each book stands up a little taller.
Thinking about another day…another time…way back when…
hoping to be noticed…opened up…and read again.
Waiting fo the day these now grown-ups and their lives again shall overlap…
Perhaps when they read them to their children
and their grandchildren…
while they’re still young enough to fit upon their laps.
Fuzzy and hairy that is what he was, a cuddly big bear. She
Undressed shyly before him while he took his own sweet time
Zesting it up with cologne before a mirror, what a nervous boy
Zorro mask in place he naughtily asked," can I use my whip ?"
You can do anything you want but leave my feet alone
So there they were two hotties revving for the big big night
Oh Oh Oh she wailed and moaned, " how I love the big wild horse"
Caressing her like a velveteen he croons into her ear, "Oh dear "
Kiss me, canoodle me but don't look at my feet Tiger, cuz if you do ?
So slowly ever so slowly he peels the blanket off her quivering body
And as he looked at her feet he took in the blue socks and crocs
Nascent desires squelched, she was no longer a sexy wench ,
Darling, what in Gods name made you wear something like that he cried
Cuz I wanted to be hot stuff for you, but my feet are always cold
Roaring with laughter he took off his mask & she noticed his brows
Oh my stars you shaved your brows! "Didn't want to be a
Caveman my dear. She giggled and squeezed him tight. I love it
Sexy Zorro. Two lovers doo whopping it, with hot sexy love...