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.
O Spirit of Earth
I imagine you in all things
Alive in the sparkle of ocean, lake and stream
In misty veils that hang on dawn like lavender dreams
Spirit of Earth I’ve seen your breath arise
in secret places where clouds are formed
I’ve heard your silvery laughter as another stream is born
In magical forests that call forth flowers and leaves
In opal skies that cycle clouds to rebirth every Spring
Sweet Spirit of Earth lying in banks of blue flowers
Wonder, dream, and delight –these are your words
Words that bid new mountains rise,
convoluting deep confessions, like spells in violet eyes
in dark realms is your Spirit waiting to arise.
Like a collage of beauty- Spirit of Earth
with all your unknown mysteries
Your wisdom of renewal flowing through all things
Death is your slumber of symphonies unsung
Spirit of Earth in dreaming sleep,
awaken your miracles – remain forever young
For Nature Contest
My Life is a song sung in a
series of repetitive inferior notes.
I’m unable to record mellow melodies,
as my violin strings continually play
with reckless violet villains.
As I sit and replay recitals of
bleeding love harmonies.
My soul is shattered and sunken
in silent sonnets.
I'm flickering through the tears of
tainted years of hexagon heartbreaks.
Unable to trust poetic phrases from a
cedar conductor whose musical agility
makes my saxophone eyes sing.
I conceal my sunrise hope in a
chaotic chorus of anguish;
which I play to my sympathetic
amber anxiety, to justify the
lonesome path I’ve chosen to hike.
I fail to embrace the serenity
of their light rap rhymes
in my erratic brain.
Instead, I reminisce
about my sorrowful pity puddle spells,
when countless deceptive trumpets
stole my musical directives
destined for classical charts.
I am forsaken in operas of
maroon misery serenaded by
these weeping, wailing windpipes.
I desire to awaken my
ancient pop culture life.
The sangria sunrise era
when only rainbow hits escaped my pen.
I recall I wrote reams of rhythmic sheets;
filled with halo heroes,
painting electrical euphoria
upon Harvard's crisp horizons.
A time when youthful bands sang of
everlasting devotion,
glowing glee upon my ebony core.
My fuschia feet are wounded and
depleted from my frequent falls in
my ballet of ruby romances.
I aspire to dance to all the Jazz
freedom beats and not break-dance
with soprano snakes.
As I’ve detected, they are thirsty for my
rhythmic rays for their
applause and accolades to reign.
Now is the time for my piano to
recreate my platinum diamond hits.
For my lyrical pieces to thrive,
I must retire my historical woes to the
rear of my Broadway sympathy show.
I accept this is the only way
to win my desired Tony prize.
Trees' jagged branches
catch the sun sinking a moist
hummus color spread
and coating the edges.
Pointed, thrust into seeping
ink of violet cotton,
is the mountain, chalk
colored. It is a beautiful ogre,
deceptively majestic.
It eyes a village
weaving native life.
Spines of which are wild
burnt-colored trees,
the bones of the forest, its
tangy scent sweet to prey
that lure the lion,
whose deep yellow is the hue
of the indian
sunset. The sky is now
an acrylic portrait. A stoked
fire settling, rose imbued.
Ash color ingrained
into stone embraced by ivory
patches, bone-chilling.
The sugar- soft dirt
covered paths collect footprints.
Carved into a life.
There where my heart resides
Where blue and pink combined
To see the beauty of God mind
Bless are the mountain tops
Who may have heard a lot
The violet hue
Within our view
Whispers from the wood
To hear as we should
Look upon the ocean
Our beauty is open
Sun beaming all around
Wind of thoughts may surround
Nature song is within our ears
Far and near
Only joy shall live here
His truth shall never depart
Through the centre of our hearts
Blessings entered our life
By the hand of Christ
Peace and solitude
Shall never be removed
Sense of belonging
As we heared God calling
The heart that fights
Jesus has made right
Took the path less traveled
We have reached the love of his castle
God love shall assemble
Through the hearts of the humble
The dream seems real since we don a form,
borrowed from elements of that domain,
but if we simply chose not to conform,
we wake up when desires to rest are lain ~ Unseeking Seeker ...
I am relaxing into the regal rigmarole,
combing through the Cubist clues ~
leafing through lived pages of light
as you speak of the architecture of sight,
an acquired texture of tasted existence,
constructing the circuits of cognition
like an aphrodisiac elixir
dissolving beautifully in my mind,
awakening reveries to draw desire,
the flames of our love’s foreverness...
You are the rose line beneath the allure of winter,
a manuscript of robust mindfulness,
teaching truth to the tired tongue of time;
not every dream requires a reason,
not every wound needs to be woven,
not every cloud needs calming;
crystals are created and
catalyzed in the cradle of coal and patience,
crafted through curated concepts…
And I sit, soaked in the curious dimensions
of my wandering shadow,
questioning the avidness of my learning eyes,
browsing the nameless depths of what would be,
as we are fit to furnish a framework of fortitude,
aware of the perceptions ~ dressed in violet blue,
studying the urge to never abandon
the alabaster face of the hopeful heart.
For you, O beloved savior, taught me ~
faith is only real in the unknown…
Smiling down on the speckles of sand,
already the warmth is fading.
Dreaming of brilliant
stars to appear
as their mother rested on waves.
At the height of graceful magnificence
her soft chrome glow diminishing.
One last show
she would provide
before she went to bed.
She reached her arms to the skies
and bid her children "good night."
Sinking slowly,
hesitantly,
into the darkness,
she painted the heavens with hues,
magenta, tangerine, and cyan she had bestowed.
A tinge of violet creeping softly in,
bleeding unnoticeably, one into the other
until a rich ocean blue had been made.
Movements of life
slowed, blurred,
dreams wriggled deep into minds,
darkness blanketed
the land with its quilts.
And Earth slumbered once more.
Contest : Write a Beautiful Verse
Sponsor : Constance La France
Third Placing : Standard Contest : Jan 26
_________________________________
“Without the Female Human Form, life as we know it, would fold & our entire Cosmos would be the lesser. Whatever it looks like to egoic vision, it encodes powerful human birthing energies, therefore is the most Beautiful Creation.” : Poet
__________________________________
Sacrosanct female form, undulating curves receptive
from soles, toes to nine openings imbibe Gaia's yields
crown maned entice Sky gifts, gaining sons, daughters, fields
arms, buxom or slender circle efforts, keeps us from harm
plump-honeyed baps drip milk feeding mouths sucking charmed
bellies endearingly blood-nurture life's births
caboose ebony or ivory mirrors omni Earth
phalanges stroke or wrinkled contained, nuances claim
spine serpentine homes mutating blue violet flame
coral lips mirthfully melt flesh intoxicate fruity
its purpose inspiring cameo nurturing, a duty
Female Form, embodies Now Power Beauty !
I refuse to learn a difference
between EcoHabitat
and God's Creative Reign At Hand;
between secular EarthDay sacraments of wonder
and sacred ecology of deep dense awe,
both within WinWin GaiaEarth's
PositivEnergy Proposal
[Well...
more of a Promised Healthy Climate handshake,
really]
I cannot,
with full integrity,
extend invitations
that sound like threats,
to WinWin cooperative children
requiring they change their innocent minds
about not settling for Win/Lose competitions
between their sacred LeftBrain body identities
and their inside RightBrain EarthSoul
memories.
[OK, for the kids,
Dick is Green
and ambidextrous LeftBrain ecological,
while Jane is more ultra-violet
and RightBrain intuitive
musing
mystical
WinWin prime relational,
more matriotic EarthSoul
and not so much patriotic
Red White and Blue Dick]
For here is where
innocence of RightBrain dominant childhood
double-bound in WiseElder pre-verbal DNA scripts
listen for teachers and preachers
across Beloved Nondual Muses of past voices,
dipolar, not necessarily bipolar,
co-arising Original PositivEnergy,
democratic EarthTrusting CoRelational,
creolizing nutritional intent.
[Yikes,
I was just thinking of Tarzan
singing and swinging some gospel
while Jane swings and dances
through their colorful
fresh forest.]
Original Creator Intent
toward transubstantiation
of RightBrain Beauty-Yin
transforming LeftBrain dominance
into Yang with Yin Regimes
for CoOperative Revolutionary Truths
secularly resilient
deductive productive WinWin systems
[And also sacredly resonant,
induced feelings
visions
voices
singing multicultural nested networks
polypathicLeft deep listening
with polyphonicRight]
Regenerate cooperative childhoods
toward WiseElder restorations.
[Humane liberating health
as also divine conservation of eco-wealth]
Hello, September -
You crept in so quickly
the calendar is halfway through with you!
My birthday came and went.
Wishes that I made - I hope they'll all come true.
Hello, September -
Thank you for the roses
which on our bushes bloom violet and red.
Three weeks ago just buds -
they now stand high and way above my head!
Hello, September -
Mornings now are cooler.
Gone is August's horrid heat at midday.
October, please delay.
Forever, dear September, could you stay?
Sept. 16, 2021
For 'A STRAND (1045)' Poetry Contest
Zin Uru, I Am Ever Of Light
So High Above, like a Heathen of the Night
where the Stars they run, there I take Flight
my Soul Glistens Erudite,
Through Hymns and Quatrains, I Sing Songs
Through Valor and Courage, the Forge of Psalms
Through Epics and Fortitudes, I Carry On
Torch in Hand, I Illumine Strong
Where Diadems they Glisten, no words are Sung
there Heaven has Risen, Under The Sun
and a Great Hymn is Heard, Ever Beyond
where the Celestial makes the Sacred Bond,
Up High, Into the Fetters of Night
I Gleam Electric Like,
I Beam in Rays of Gold and Violet Light
Cuz I'm So Illumined Bright,
Far Beyond the Doors Of Perception
Into the Emerald Gates Of Intercession,
where Dreams become Realms of Greater Things
It Seems, To Be, in Celestial Blessings
and Yes, The Only Way Out, Is Up Indeed
Take Heath, through the Passage Of Sovereignty
where Kings and Queens, take Steeds, To The Sun
and by The Higher Way, find the Omnipotent One