Long Veritable Poems
Long Veritable Poems. Below are the most popular long Veritable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Veritable poems by poem length and keyword.
Sometime after midnight, it had rained
Putting out summer’s sultry heat
The sky had its face washed clean
And wiped the grime off Earth’s soiled feet
The dawn is quietly breaking
Night lights still glimmer here and there
The blue firmament remains cloudless
And cool is the mild blowing air
The sleeping town is slowly waking up
And at this transitional point
I look out into the street
To see a sight that shall never disappoint
Along the road moves one, ragged and withered
His discolored white hair left unkempt
With hunch back and drooping shoulders
The marks Time has left of the hard years spent
Though age has drained his life sap away
He has a firm resolve never to beg
His frail body supported on a stick
Serves as a veritable third leg
With his staff, he perseveringly stirs
Every heap of abandoned rubbish
Indiscriminately piled on either side of the road
Hunting for trinkets lying hidden in the trash
A rag picker with a sack on his back
Picking up today’s treasure
From yesterday’s discarded trash
Things, for him ‘priceless’ beyond measure
With complaints none
He faces life and its trials
Never losing the glitter in his eyes
Though a loner in life’s dark isles
I ask myself, why every day
I routinely look for this man who limps along
And I get a quick answer
‘He helps you turn your sobs into a song’
From a flicker of flames that spark up, hot and white
Inimitable heat rises up through the night
Reaching out, with it's fast, fiery fingers to take
Everything that lives, breathes or stands within it's wake.
Fire attacks, like a wicked, mad angry demon
It sears, scorching paths that destroy in due season
Firestorms can consume with a destructive passion
Like a wild, unpredictable temper tantrum.
A necessity for life, fire brings warmth and heat
An invaluable source, to cook what we eat
It can bend ore and iron, create what man wills
Whether cars, great ships or guns, for good or for ill.
A veritable force on our earthly domain
Fire's might, in it's grand glory, will ever remain.
Written on 4/18/2016
Tuneful preludes play on whoosh of spring wind
as flowers spread their kaleidoscopic wings
Two quartets daze in awe while celebrating
a reunion with picnic and ballroom dancing.
The golden showers radiate and incandesce…
Tulips and jasmine nearby bloom so fresh.
Like utopia where ensembles are veritable
Birds of paradise hung their notes to warble.
Music plays…. in graceful moves…smiles scintillate
a luncheon together - each one will never forget.
Memories are all in photos with red roses
Big sunflowers are captured…jutting our faces.
I hold tenaciously an album in a bright clip
of families in garden party for close friendship.
July 7, 2014 11.10pm
Third Place
Contest: Garden Party: Verb-alized Noun-sense with floral accents
Judged: 7/15/2014
Sponsor: Poet Cyndi MacMillan
this veritable unknown bad man in the mirror
would likewise beat it behind the mask
ben writhing in pain to feel best of joy
for (i can't make it) another day without billie jean
in this
black or white
whirled wide webbed world
whereby hypnosis breaking news
like dangerous butterflies effects
ben tormented thus this earth song
time and again experience ye that doth
give in to me
sans like a loved one
gone to soon
but my spirit does want to heal the world
for tis only human nature
to feel claustrophobic shuttered in the closet
all a jam and smothered
yet...please keep the faith
and keep your head up
for tis much to soon
to erase off the wall
memories
that perhaps one day in your life
pretty young thing
would will remember the time
happiness did roll and rock with you
like a rockin' robin
though now ye rankle
like a stranger in moscow
concluding supposed guardian angels
they do not care about us
minor bit players on the global stage
self reflection finds me wondering
if this is it
blinded by unasked for fate
to be blinded in the limelight
haint no thriller
cuz...honestly, i wanna be startin' somethin' fresh
like...paris in springtime
then upon winter of moi descent
into the dimension beyond life
wondering if you will be there.
Darkness stalked through the shadowed lands
only briefly glimpsed before vanishing.
It passed through valleys and ridges leaving
in its wake despair and torment and Blood soaked lands.
No friend of light, it kept to the dark paths
releasing disharmony and malcontent in its wake.
No respecter of life's beauty, its intent most malice
feeding on people's fears and greed, it gained in strength.
A veritable feast lay before it as it advanced
and used man's foibles to its personal gain.
Causing strife and friction was its delight
setting one against another chuckling with glee.
Yet, where there is darkness there is also light
and it is daily pushed back into the shadowed lands
from whence it came. Once again it is conquered
by both light and the spring of eternal hope.
The Green Fairy visits me
From an apothecary jar
And gives me a Commoner’s taste of heaven
Libations for one and all
In close proximity
Not from afar.
In smoke filled rooms
Of curling delights
I see diamonds
Reflected in all the lights
And Illumination
From the green glow
Possessed by the café’s glasses.
All is forgiven and forgotten
Within those walls of shame
There is a warmth and a comfort
To all its dismay…
As night turns toward midnight…
And midnight runs toward day.
There is no real obscure focus…
No magical hocus pocus
No real concentration of veritable belief
That the green fairy hides behind.
As absinthe begins and then continues on
To rule my body and my mind
And spirits me away
To a life of shortened days
But hours lengthened by the devotion
To The Green Fairy.
Copyright Christine A Kysely 2010 November 26, 2010
(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved,
("Untitled - The Eye of Jihad", 2019, original encaustic)
Love is Love - and other absurd truisms
“Love is love” is like “Follow your bliss”
a way to deflect the moral agency
and subsequent consequence of our desires
with vague equivalency.
It’s like all love and bliss is somehow equal,
which is absurd.
What if my bliss comes from destroying yours?
Or I love abducting, raping, slicing and dicing
then barbecuing
the infant you love…?
Where is the moral equivalence?
This is why the Golden Rule sounds great
up until you are up against a masochist.
And the world today is apparently filled with masochists.
But it’s all good…
At least it feels good,
to think we are all the same, all equal
in what we love and cherish.
The truth is we aren’t.
We may all be made of the same dust,
but that doesn’t make us equal.
Meanwhile the world turns,
a hit soap-opera
in its nth season
spinning relentlessly
a veritable Wall of Death
which in its shocking extreme
delivers some kind of perverse pleasure.
It may not be bliss,
or even what we love,
but it’s certainly captivating.
(11/1/23)
January 17th, 2020, a moost memorable outing at Collegeville Diner
A hardy acknowledgement yessiree
to the blessed sister Amelie worthy
of such beloved, devoted,
feted husband Rich truly
bestowed predicated upon
random chain of events
i.e., accidental, biological,
and genealogical happenstance prithee
applauding, apprising, and appraising key
kith and kin flavoring, enlightening,
and charming every
life ye and said spouse...
chance circumstance doth avail
your lucky charms to recipients receive detail
impossible mission to annotate here,
nonetheless with gusto courtesy
gratitude yours truly does exhale
regarding unconditional loving
creatures great and small
unbridled zeal without fail
truevalue analogous, yet exceeding
fine spun gold woolworth paltry holy grail,
nor can infinite wordsworth express hale
low, and brotherly love,
(equals at the least $20.00)
an introspective male
i.e. me, whose recent keen awareness
of vital specialness doth prevail
when a little boy quivering
scared as baby quail
his older sister genuinely
ranked high on importance scale
emotionally caring despite many travail
experienced by prodigal son
of Boyce and Harriet,
who frequently if not always did veil
steaming, roiling, quaking...
blubbering like a whale
Ahab oft times admit floundering chick
hen daring to venture metaphorical
unfamiliar muddy waters
unlike legendary Moby Dick
thrashing restless legs vainly kick
starting how to live think
lost at figurative sea
with nary an iota
abandoning ship lick
kitty split never trying
to overcome self doubt
when chased, teased and easily
trounced by bullies quick
as greased lightning
to cower on all fours
calling out for Ranger Rick
(or other unsung hero),
whose highlighted schtick
nowhere in sight, thus I got treated
analogous as some cheap trick
praying for salvation,
ye thence fended off beastie boys
(poetic liberty I take)
as veritable hooligans
threatened with wick
cud lee to thrash hide of
Matthew Scott imposing arbitrary
eminent domain despite
supposedly safe sanctified bailiwick.
The restless breeze moves
rapidly through the grasslands,
like a rippling sea of waves.
Flocks of birds draft one
another as they cascade
through windswept, cloudy skies.
Whipping winds move hastily
across the ocean waters,
as sailors fill their sails
and pick up speed.
Trees sway and bend as
their leaves pull away and
swirl in a downward spiral
to the earth below.
Moody skies transform
gentle breezes into
windstorms in the span
of a early afternoon.
A veritable force of nature,
the power of the winds
can change the canvas of a
landscape in an instant.
Like time that passes with
relentless fervor,
the winds of change
march boldly onward,
unrestrained and unharnessed.
Written on 3/22/2015
He is "half a bubble off of centre"
More than "A few bricks short of a load"
He is not a Prince worth kissing
He is more of an ugly toad.
Some think he is "Rock Solid"
A veritable "Mountain of a man"
Instead he's a snake Replacing a ladder
Nothing but a "flash in the pan"
You'll have to "hit the nail on the head"
For "he's not the sharpest tack in the box"
If you don't want this jerk to catch you
I recommend "pulling up your socks
If you think I was "born yesterday"
Or "I've got nothing to lose"
Instead of "Drinking the koolaide"
You musta been guzzlin the booze
For I am "the man of your dreams"
Look my way I'm "Love at first sight"
Forget that other "good for nuttin" fella
I'll "rock your world" "forever, a day and a night!"