Long Violet Poems
Long Violet Poems. Below are the most popular long Violet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Violet poems by poem length and keyword.
It is not my silence that harkens your thought
it only enhances demanding desires
a whirlwind stoking of latent fires
manifesting in the mind at rest
bolts of lightning
ilumini
where colours explode
sparking the dark
painting an elegant sky
kissing of the rivers
not long for dry
violet to green
sails full mast
waves pounding
pushing, pulling
pondering
moments left at sea
I see
blue
in rose's stubborn petals
barking back at the wind
bending her ear
to the echo of spring
when she shall bloom
full flower
exposed
naked to her sun
and her scent
seducing the one who wanders her grounds
unlock the rusted gates of heaven
fill out the prophecy of man
dry off those feathers and fly
for above you can see clearly
beauty
so natural, so free
My oldest son,
one of the few Earth-mattering
Earth-shattering
Black lives
I was made to protect
to guide
by eco-righteous WinWin acts
and co-passioning words,
Felt, and therefore was, disempowered,
worthless,
like helpless prey among predators
who listen to the same rap,
same urban Earth writes,
same multicultural performances,
When a gun was dispassionately pointed at his head.
This was only tangentially about an economic exchange
primal, personally and politically, targeted.
He felt violated,
and threatened,
already home and identity invaded,
when forced to hand over his car keys,
and the back door
and front door
keys to his home.
He knows these guys,
where to find them on Facebook,
at the casino,
in the dance and rap clubs
where he invested
infested
while still in high school.
Urban night school, unEarthly,
earthy
darkly sensual.
He does not know where to find them in church.
Gospel music is for grandmothers.
Liturgical dance,
sacred rituals,
are for outside romance
on warm wet wombed erotic nights.
He felt naked
exposed
terrified when they demanded his last dime.
This is his biggest and baddest bully,
his most deeply echoing "LOSER!"
His darkest dirge
speaking of suicidal revenge.
Or prison,
where Earth's great white patriarchal State,
will put a gun to his head
and force him to remove his clothes
and bend over
to assume the even more lost position,
Raped of any future hope
to rest outdoors
after an ecstatic liturgical dance
under a romantic full moon
rapping
and dancing
ultra-violet variations
on a warm wet wombed
bright delight.
Not So Bright Delight
You talk our talk
like Black Lives Matter,
but you walk your own walk
as Black lives shatter,
Brown lives stutter,
Green lives splinter.
What's a-matter?
You want to want
all lives to splatter?
Might hear to hear
RealTalk ain't chatter,
You eat to eat
friends heads on platters.
We taste to see
your fake get fatter.
Your act is tired.
Your allies scatter.
You need to feed
on guns' disaster.
Come on now, Felix,
What's a-matter?
Where's your commitment
to Black Lives Matter?
I thought of a girl
I wished to know better
So I started with her name
Examining the placement of each letter
The name
That name
The one she chose
Not Rose
or Daisy
Violet or Macy
The interesting bit
She chose the name SKAT
I was left to ponder about that
Where was her mind at??
This poet and sweetie
who glides in and out of our lives
like the proverbial cat
So I searched Google
for the meaning
Wondering what she was feeling
Was the definition sweet and appealing?
It ended up being about cards and dealing
SKAT is the discarded card
My heart dropped from the ceiling
Leaving my mind questioning and reeling
Instead let's make her the ace up our sleeve
The most special of all cards
lets search deep in the pile to retrieve
If we do
maybe then she'll believe
she is worthy of our love to receive
We all want to be in the game
Sometimes there's meaning in a name
If we don't look close that is our own shame
Now when I look at SKAT
I see her differently
not the same
On a flickering candle
She is the flame
Both light and shadow,
SKAT is her name!
Dedicated to our SKAT
Life greeted Death
with an epoch
from the depths of dusk
with a dawn,
the sun rose lucid
with it's soft spotted infant rose
now awake,
hanging heavily harnessed
in the steaming swaying sky,
the sun's aura
lit the sands of the silent Sahara
liked an aged ocean of butterscotch beauty,
and the starch strung clouds
maneuvored like vanilla lace
avalanching outward
kissing the hips of the woven horizon,
my sight probed to ponder
the powdered blue glow
of the desperate distance,
where the shadows
of the dune's palms
insult the posture
of the ivory sanctuary
that sat balanced for sake of Bethlahem,
I sat megerly meditating,
watching the subtle creases
in the Meditterraniean Sea absorb the sliced brass shingles
that weave the waters wealthy,
as the morning properly transcended Westward
manipulating nature's maturity
by rambling roughly to the seas
for wandering waves of bolted blooms of blue
for the twinkle of a jewel
which sits on a stool as a star
as far as North,
soon the violet velocity of night
approached the set,
electrifying the ending day,
and the Sister of the Sun
landed on the sky's chest
like a sheild on a knight,
as I listened lightly
the Moon politely announced,that evening is back to stack
the black symphony -
J.A.B.
Purple envelope
sealed with dried red grape secrets
folded with ferments
hidden like wine in a cask—
waiting to expunge its words
Purple grape-skins torn
the bruises dark, stinking with hate
postponed and withheld—
seething, fermenting inside,
to pop when eyes are uncorked
Fingers hesitate—
lingering on paper's seam
as if it might bleed
mauve ink, staining memories
with bitter taste of tannin
Who dares to open
the violet-purple skins
threaded like tendrils
curled poised to strike the reader—
staining lips and tongues blood-red
The envelope waits
as a bruise waits for pressure—
purple concealing
the truth of what lies within
with promise and a warning
in a cursed invitation.
I live in the heavenly realm of the Gods
I dance on the soft shining moon
My eternal beauty shines enticingly
From my eyes so very blue...
Like a sweet angel caressing the gentle breeze
Streaking the water silver
I am the best of dark and night
That meets within my arms
The stars that dwell in my hair
Groups like violet flowers
I am a visitor from distant land
Hidden, secluded and forbidden
To this place between two worlds
Abundant with tireless beauty
My hand plays music with ripples
As I view myself amid the soft moonlight beams
That touches my soft skin and dewy wings
The solitude of this mystic haven
Burning with incense as flowers kiss
Wind creates sweet magic
As it touches my fragrant tresses
The lotus buds open wide
As my name is mentioned
Receiving my divine beauty
The Gods from above watch
Divinity taking form
I gently kiss my reflection
Melting into the dark
*Apsara-A Hindu Nymph with magical powers
__ Tahera Mannan
For Constance’s ‘Reflection’ contest.
I claim my Egyptian heritage of
Love, rivers, healing
Geese fly high above our pyramids
Those rocks moved with magnetic
music
Light cascading through space
Thoth dances above our crowns
I sway beneath Amun-Ra
She-He caresses my auburn hair
a deepening of irises
it was my thunder and
my own blistering hands
Nile flows freely watching
Now my goddesses sit in their Merkaba’s
chanting around an eternal flame
carrying melodies of change
violined voices on violet strings
A million workers marched barefoot
through fields or furnaces
aligning cores below to above
Sirius clapped assent
urging me out into Space
Pyramid ! Triangle of my refuge
and direction
While above signs
watched my movement
up the Squinx
to a northern node
Bronzed arms encircle my hips
as Africa unites with Asia
I did not know that
in a Southern land I
would disembark to
crack hearts of steel
with spirals of crystalline carbon
a moment at Last Supper
I relived this teaching
Myrrh rained down to
anoint
My Heart was His-
Hers !
Violet, a lovely lady, kin to Purple, can be a contradiction.
Between her fellows Red and Blue (yet more inclined to Blue),
she lies with a calm passion! Unique and unconventional is she!
A symbol of humility, through the ages she has listened to confessions
as she draped the shoulders of Roman Catholic priests.
Yet often in society, she’s been seen as extravagant and vain!
Just for having embellished the rooms and the attire
of monarchs, emperors, and princes,
and just because Violet is flattering to the yellow found in gold,
should she then be punished for her wealth of beauty?
Should her shades with other lovely names such as
Lilac, Lavender, Amethyst, and Mauve
be seen in any other way as simply gorgeous?
Perhaps for her ambiguity as she shifts to deeper reddish hues
then back to cool blue, she is perceived in western culture
as uncertain and ambivalent, for she is not popular with the masses.
Van Gogh, however, understood her,
painting her as irises and showing her in swirls of stars!
And in the oriental world, where she is extolled,
she radiates the sublime harmony of the universe,
as the melding of the yin and yang of red and blue.
Violet, who sometimes spreads herself splendidly
across the twilight skies
and peeks out from rainbows,
is a beauty so rarely seen in nature
that the birds, stones and plants that she enchants
are not even too numerous to name.
Have you seen her purple pearl or coral in the sea?
Have you heard the song of African violet-backed starlings?
But oh! Violet loves flowers. . . Besides her small sweet namesake,
She colors crocuses, petunias, asters, geraniums and pansies.
Not many other things in nature does Violet cling to,
yet she adores the grape and plum,
and with a certain whimsy, she’s charmed purple cabbage,
the turnip, eggplant, and beets!
Rare lady in nature, Violet, my adored, why is it that you are not more loved?
As I cross a field of lavender and breathe you in, the answer to my question
eludes me.
PURPLE
Purple my soft moss seat in paradise
amethyst crown purple so wise
High Priestess purpled silken silent and bold
has no need to compete with cool
Countess whose court is neat
but oh so cold !
What a sweet treat to see
ripe ripple granadilla purpled fall from tree
she made an indigo way from leafy branch
to loamy Earth to juicy kiss my feet
landing on delicate fairy roots with a scarlet beat
Purple irises erect rows in park holler
such powerful maidens compete not for dollars chased by bookie rookie scholars who fail
to see abundance in nature’s holy colour
divinely composed with innocent hues of valour
How humans sniffle and snuffle when they
seek lilac happiness in ludicrous money
all they need do is close their eyes to
visualise dining on purple aubergine,
mauve butter bean laced with dripping honey
in violet chameleon coves hosting bunnies
watching a shimmering sunset
holy purple burble !
The scent of lavender the taste of peach
Sparkling gold always out of reach
The pure of white and fullness of black
Jolly orange with rhyme it lacks
Paint my fun as a psychedelic rainbow
A splash of colors for smiles to grow
Deep as purple, soft as grey
The lush of green a touch of Jade
Tempt with shiny apple red
Wrap me in chiffon upon my bed
Sing to my soul with blue
Sprinkle with silver anew
Sunny bright and cheery yellow
A plum of a kiss for lucky fellow
Pink elephants are for real
Dancing upon clouds of teal
Brown eyes and summer tan
The feel between toes of sandy sand
A mist of lilac in the air
Sweet violet spreads everywhere
Blonde hair with a tinge of rust
Amber glitters as moon dust
Night shadows dream in indigo
A splash of colors too and fro