Long Venus Poems
Long Venus Poems. Below are the most popular long Venus by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Venus poems by poem length and keyword.
Oh Aphrodite! Mother of my two pearls
Venus of my night sky
Commander of my world
I fell for you like a comet
I burnt for you like Mars
Abide in my trajectory
While guided by stars
Your sonnet dedication metered
All is written in quatrain
I'm completed in your presence
In your absence I abstain
Diurnally blinded by fire in the sky
Cupped my hand to shade my eyes
And thirstily complain, about the lack of rain
Elongated animals on savanas and plains
Nocturnally beleagered but eternally yours
Seeking answers in ash , while staring at coals
no one hears my guitar so voicelessly strummed
Flames my desire , so forsaken my soul
A hundred thousand embers
Sparked a thousand million stars
Explosions in the ether
Flashing diamonds that we know
Unprepared for this journey
Undeterred my savage heart
Skies are ripped and torn by thunder
Clouds adrift and left asunder
Lonely cloud goes East and cries
The other West, and melted... dies
I remember the day I was invited
By the guys from "El Conejo" Ranch in Columbus, Ohio (USA)
To participate in the thousand and one orgasms
That a certain Erin, a resident whore, was going to receive
Who was very hot
So that I could reach the bar that was at nine hundred
Achieved by a different whore.
I wanted to prepare myself and go well
Like a real man
That's why I invited a couple of friends
To the "Zafiro" motel-brothel in Burgos
So they could give their opinion on me
If I was in good shape.
They both slept with whores
I couldn't please mine
Nor dishonor her dishonored a thousand times over.
She laughed at my
And stuck her tongue out at me.
As I told her while I was trying to her
That I was going to Ohio, Columbus (USA)
To have sex with a renowned whore
She burst out laughing, mocking me, saying:
-But where are you going, you simpleton
With this mini trebuchet, this little slingshot
This sperm-launcher
To besiege a Mount of Venus
Of a used whore?
Your is like Greek fire
That sets the besieged ablaze
And only shoots white balls of sperm
That break into a thousand pieces
When they hit the lips.
I'm telling you the truth:
-Forget about going to Ohio, Columbus (USA)
Because you're not going to pass the test
Because you're not the right size.
But you can come see me whenever you want
Because my enjoys you
And I won't charge you more than the cost of a drink.
If I didn't start crying
It's because my two friends came over
Seeing me already dressed
With the face of a defeated and submissive man.
Seeing me in such a sad state, they asked me:
-But how did it go?
-Badly, I answered.
I decided not to go to Ohio
Because I'm not good enough to sleep with
A beautiful and renowned whore.
Look at my little trebuchet, my little trebuchet
That serves as my witness
And this whore I've been with
With her eyes has been witness
That I'm not good enough
And she's the one who convinced me.
In the coldness of the moment
My two friends shuddered
Starting to cry with me
Because my little trebuchet sad and faded
Couldn't water flowers or lilies
And much less a renowned pussy.
Meanwhile, in the background
The whore I'd been with was smiling
Because she'd tasted the scent of the bud
Without having swallowed it.
Le vaisseau d'or
Ce fut un grand Vaisseau taillé dans l'or massif:
Ses mâts touchaient l'azur, sur des mers inconnues;
La Cyprine d'amour, cheveux épars, chairs nues
S'étalait à sa proue, au soleil excessif.
Mais il vint une nuit frapper le grand écueil
Dans l'Océan trompeur où chantait la Sirène,
Et le naufrage horrible inclina sa carène
Aux profondeurs du Gouffre, immuable cercueil.
Ce fut un Vaisseau d'Or, dont les flancs diaphanes
Révélaient des trésors que les marins profanes,
Dégoût, Haine et Névrose, entre eux ont disputés.
Que reste-t-il de lui dans la tempête brève?
Qu'est devenu mon coeur, navire déserté?
Hélas! Il a sombré dans l'abîme du Rêve!
--- Émile Nélligan
The Golden Vessel
It was an immense Craft carved out of solid gold:
Its masts touched the azure, on uncharted seas;
A Venus of disheveled hair, naked flesh
Lounging at the bow, in the blazing sun.
But one night struck the great reef
In the ephemeral ocean wherein sang the Siren,
And the ghastly shipwreck plunged its hull
Into the depths of the Abyss, an inert coffin.
It was a Golden Vessel, whose diaphanous hull
Unveiled treasures that uninitiated sailors,
Disgust, Hatred and Neurosis, bickered over.
What there remains in the sudden squall?
What has become of my heart, forlorn craft?
Alas! It has sunk into an abyss of Phantasm!
-- translated by Christopher Johnston
A kiss a day keeps the blues away
But a hug is even better
Cannot get enough of you
Don’t think things can get much better
Every time I think of you
Fluttering goes my heart
Giving me a feeling true
Holding hope we will never part.
In your arms I long to be
Just because we are apart
Keep me with in your dreams to see
Love that flows from heart to heart
My heart is yours it seems
No one can take it away
Oh my love I’ve sent letters in reams
Please never from us sway
Quote back to me my love for you
Read my letters of love
Stay with me our love renew
Take my hand as close as in glove
Under the stars we plight our troth
Venus is our guiding light
When the light does attach the moth
Xanthocomic covers the pillow tonight
Yin to my yang, you are my love, and our love will ever grow
Zoetic high we will be, and this the whole world show
Contest Entry
© ~GG~ 23/05/2013
Xanthocominc…. Yellow Hair
Zoetic……………Living/ Vital
Morning Star
with your first breath,
wakeful
sunlit of dawn,
a mystique flaming
fire arouse;
ablaze
is casting
shadows
in the new
outlying
mercurial fame
horizon, immersed in
waves
of balmy sunshine.
5/22/2020
Poetry Contest: Pick-A-Title, Vol 18 - Yalto 2 -
4. Morning Star
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Line 1 to 15: 3,4,2,4, 5,3,2,3,2,3,3,5,6,1,5 syllables.
Venus is a very bright star; it is the only celestial body, besides the Moon, that is bright enough to cast a shadow on Earth. It had two different names in the ancient pagan world, as it was seen in the sky twice a day: when the sun came up in the morning, it was called Morning Star and when the sun set in the evening, it was called Evening Star
I love it when Lisa and I take our show out and, on the road,
like this twilight helicopter flight, from New Haven to LaGuardia.
I’m so excited about tonight, it’s possible that I might implode.
The rotor blades started twirling, our luggage had been stowed,
the pilot asked Lisa. “Ready for takeoff?” Lisa grinned and said, “Go!”
He gave her a quick and crisp salute and the engine noise started to grow.
As we went wheels-up, the whirly-birds warning lights began to strobe.
Yep, It’s the start of November recess and we’re changing our zip code.
We rise like a balloon, at first, until the harbor comes into view.
The engines were screaming like jets, when the whole world turned askew,
I’ve done numerous take-offs like this, but it still feels like I might spew.
Above the rear cockpit window, there’s an air-speed indicator that looks like a clock.
With a quick turn over Yale’s campus, we’re going 90 as we steak over the docks.
As we ascend into the night, the twinkling lights of New Haven seem to shrink.
We’re swiftly gaining altitude, this quivering contraption, moves faster than you’d think.
As the red numbers settle at 260, the vibrations have all but ceased,
The engine noise is gone as well, as we race up, in the darkness and out over the sea.
I try not to think of the inky black water, how far we would fall and how quickly we’d sink.
Long Island Sound glittered, like fractured glass, under the waxing crescent moon.
The forever-blue sky was hosting a large, fake-star, because Venus was glowing there too.
That dark almost-orbit was prettier than the infinity-of-lights we’ll see on Park Avenue.
We’ll be meeting Peter’s flight from Geneva - a surprise - he doesn’t have a clue.
As the lights of New York become pronounced, so does my excitement that he’ll be around.
I’m sure we’ll get a moment of quiet intimacy at the LaGuardia international arrivals lounge.
*
* *
B Beginning on this journey, I rode the cusp of different signs
O One path would lead to Venus, yet to Mercury I have climbed *
R Reaching for the stars, was a curiosity * *
N Never knowing just what might have been, where the other path might go
*
U Under power of the universe, each complex twist and turn
N Now it holds me in its flower, where my destiny would bloom
D Deep within my heart, I held a comet’s tail to ride
E Eclipsing secrets of the moon, and the stars to be my guide
R Reflection of the twin in me, that can see the other side *
G Gazing with curiosity, through life’s dark and cloudy windows *
E Each pane of glass stares back at me, a entwined reflection shows... *
M My mirror image , is she perplexed? I wonder if she knows…
I I search her face, but secrets hide, the mimic's eyes are sealed *
N No hint revealed,.. she is quite resolved..and like the moths of night
I I flutter, as does she, against the glass, to reach the light
Soothing, lissome; render the facsimile of its
Heart; Such a spright with adore imbued.
‘Er pelt’s so sleek; as petite fry’s
In its nurse’s, gentle and suckling:
The only Cutie-pie on my heart.
Realism in its mettle glints joie de vivre,
As doeth molten chaste gold in the forge; a
Knoll of whose acme other inamoratas feign. Such
An Alkebulan nymph of finest of lustre imagined:
The one and only on the heart.
Nymph of great splendor so priced,
Guarantees anew that adoring even more I stay;
Or peril I at rivals shameful losses, awaiting
My heart’s intensely pricked – broken:
As if it weren’t the only Cutie-pie on my heart.
Beauty as embossed on it and in
Every milieu envisioned, of itself no ill utters;
Making it the solo etch on this conquered heart,
And of those who in split or full, fray pro-reign
Over the one and only on the heart.
Hells all abhorrence merited, it deters!
Anti-doting each time desolation's endured,
Thus, it insures my glee agst perils viable;
Agst rivals in places – a reassuring haven:
The only Cutie-pie on my heart.
In its blissful eye’s such an unfaked
Love that soothes like no cool draft does;
Optically reassuring in such ways it’s my
Venus, the finest of icons in the realms of adore:
The one and only on the heart.
Every songbird that hums its tune,
Yens for the arpeggio worthy the hymn for
One sylph in a million – for its admirers reverie;
‘Until fatality do us part’, in their self-deceited yen
For the only Cutie-pie on my heart.
I worry that my coat will murder me.
Hanging on Banister’s Edge it’s a man lurking, dark.
I’ve seen rows of killers shadowed and waiting,
hidden in the ridges of the living room radiator,
ready to pounce during a moonlit trip to the toilet.
From my position in bed, a stool could be a gremlin hunched,
the door frame a monstrous arm arching and looming, holding a hollow void.
The sheets around my feet are vines, all patterns the jaws of a Venus flytrap.
Snap.
Black cabs are hearses, flowerbeds fresh graves;
babbling brook rope swings form a noose, gravel paths stone me to death.
My cardigan knows it should be a straitjacket,
socks and watches nod knowingly towards shackles and manacles imaginary.
Cushions on a sofa? Nothing but false sense of security quicksand.
(Competition title: No 1299)
A girl struggling to fit in;
Not quite sure why she does't.
Every tear of self-doubt you cry
Burns a scar into my mother's heart.
Every time you say you have no friends,
It bleeds for you.
With your friendship you offer your heart.
But life's little prejudices and cruelties
Taught you to be cautious with your feelings.
Throw aside your cautions.
Embrace that world.
For the same tender heart that plagues you now,
Will triumph in the end.
As other's friendship come and depart,
Yours will be as Venus in the midnight sky:
Forever true; Forever bright.
02/18/2004