Long Vivant Poems

Long Vivant Poems. Below are the most popular long Vivant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vivant poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Darryl

A better gentleman there never was
Kind loving and generous man
Bon vivant and lavish tipper
Articulate, meticulous and dressed to the nines
Phoned his mother every Sunday religiously 
Never a bad thing to say about anyone

It was a Friday after work
Celebrating the end of the week
More exuberant than usual
Spring was in the air
The days were getting longer
And the breeze warmer

He loved life till the very last minute
When it wasn’t baseball
It was Texas Hold’em
Then that fateful Friday afternoon he said
‘Tell my family I love them’
Just like that

We buried him on St.Patrick’s Day
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon
I’ll never forget that one final glance
That one lone sentinel by his grave
Standing guard
Up on that hill against the setting sun
A fitting tribute honouring
A man who had lived and loved
Every blessed day of his life



AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Form: Ode


Premium Member Raindrops 2




Lugubrious blue mood skies funereal  and morose shed raindrops,
they unleash tableau vivant torrent’s wet tranche,
blessing,  bane or boon from vault of heaven,
damp pearl blob  bewitching moisture mellow morph form, 
the stuff of less than benign grumpy weather grouch,
whose plight infuses yen for sun-drenched bliss,
haven of the ultra-violet swathe enthusiast,
for others raindrops are  a liquid gem relish firmament bequeathed,
to whet voracious craving of nascent pastures,
whose gaunt green blade emaciating stillborn,
that aqueous honey to hue-blazed floral  garden in situ bloomers,
who swallow cloudburst drizzle meed in muted slurps, 
droplet streak and spiral bubble patten on top hung awning window,
empyrean tear beads that roof top tap dance ritual,
so tantalising to the awestruck spellbound eardrum,
or impromptu downward dribbles on romantic saunterers,
prompting boisterous laughter as they flaunt their dome transparent chromium truss umbrella,
those enraptured red-blooded refugees beneath tilting gust spun bumbershoot,
as mud splatter cherry cheek urchins shriek,
amid the spray and splash globules at agile finger tips
Form: Grook

Premium Member Scorpion Sybarite

                           Dark angel baring broken wing, 
                           you’re the crier at night, days scorpion’s sting
                           Sybarite bon vivant emersed in rituals 
                           Facetious and obscure devotions.
                           An angel banished from heaven,
                           for craving omnipotence at all costs
                           Hell's indelible denizen in
                           Dante’s Inferno or
                           Milton’s Paradise Lost,
                           Kundalini Serpent, Astaroth, Azazel, 
                           Beelzebub, the morning star
                           Tainted love you’ve tired of
                           Lies and deception, your friend and foe
                           Deserving of this not you and so
                           heil the magik that ills and pains
                           although your nature has jaded
                           you perform the morality play.
                           Pal owl perched on glove wise bird 
                           see more, less spoken, hears her muse recite 
                           replaced by ravens her ghouls delight.
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Vincent and Paul

It’s fall of 1888, the south of France,
In the verdant fields of Arles,
Two artists shared a single dream,
And so began their quarrel.
Vincent paved the way for Paul
With bold sunflower sprays.
Paul dissembled, stating plain,
“More practiced effort pays.”				
“Don't smile before December,”
Said the mentor to his charge.
And the student pegged his better
As a bon vivant at large. 
So, their tenure at the Yellow House
Grew troublesome and dark.
Their artists’ shared collective
Strayed a long way off its mark.
Dry and cold, the Mistral winds
Spread madness like a plague,
To infiltrate poor Vincent’s mind,
Whose memories grew vague.
Mania, delirium, anxiety, and fear,
Climaxed when the voices told him,
“You don’t need that ear!” 
He’d heard no praise, regardless.
Dr. Rey used his sorry portrait
To fix his chicken coop. 
Then Theo got engaged,
And Paul sailed away to Tahiti.
Now time’s become history,
And that paint smeared canvas,
Nailed to a chicken coop 
Means to claim a hefty sum.
And Le Fou Roux lies cold in his grave,
Unmindful of the legend he’s become.

THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
STARRY NIGHTS AT SAINT REMY
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Suicide Cafe

And now, a word from our sponsor:

Has your sirloin lost its flavor? Do you gag on fish filet?
Have you grown a morbid hunger for a terminal buffet?
Ok! There’s a menu made to die for down at Suicide Café.

You can start with soup and salad topped with Ricin-tainted Cheese.
And our Bathtub Gin with Razor lets you end it all with ease.
Ice teas? Quench your thirst for something different with our Botulism Breeze.

If you’re into dining solo, try our Arsenic Puree.
For the avant garde and daring, there’s our Cyanide Soufflé.
Ole! For dessert, try going retro with our Hemlock Mint Sorbet.

Belladonna Toadstool Nibblers leave you gasping with delight.
Our Curare Basted Spare Ribs take your breath with every bite.
Time tight? Have our Bang-bang Chicken garnished with a sprig of dynamite.

Do you style yourself a connoisseur and bon vivant gourmet
Seeking gastronomic climax to a soul-destroying day?
Oy vey! Come taste the fix you’re craving down at Suicide Café.
Form: Lyric


Premium Member Wendy's Daisies

Dark haired Anne of Green Gables
Freckles and playfully naughty giggle
Hailed from Prince Edward Island

Easygoing bon vivant friendly nature
Everyone couldn’t help but love you
Your nonchalant laissez-faire demeanour
Often made you look as cute as Pippi Longstocking

You were a friendship magnet
People couldn’t get enough of you
Everyone wanted a piece of your energy
Your exuberant joyful freedom
Hoping a bit of your magic would wear off on them

You never doubted about the true treasures of life
When you talked about the fields of daisies down home
Your eyes teared up with nostalgia

When you did move back for good
It was a cruel jolt to us
We were sad and lost a chip off our heart
But we always did see you
For what you truly were
A captive bird trapped in a cage
It was time to set you free



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Life Notes Few Words Aldravias

BEAUTY

                Always
                splendor
                anywhere
                beyond
                any
                place...

                SWEET LIFE

                all
                unconcerned
                chap
                ever
                bon
                vivant!

                LONELINESS

               crowd
               lieu
               solitaire
               most
               feel
               loneliness...

                PRESENT FUTURE

                today
                present
                life
                future
                after
                life... !

Word By Word Poetry

BEAUTY

                appears
                there 
                on here
                everywhere
                any
                place...

               HIGH LIFE

                all
                life
                jubilant
                ever
                bon
                vivant!

                LONELINESS

               crowd
               Where
               solitary
               mostly
               feel
               solitude.

                FUTURE PRESENT

                present
                is
                life
                future
                beyond
                life

the life of an elephant

I wonder now, 
If the life of an elephant is worth less than the life of a man,
Men are so vulgar, wicked and vicious,
Men are so inhuman, poor country,
Why shouldn’t an elephant be allowed to breathe?
Allowed to live upright, to love the savannah?
What happened to our past adventures?
What happened to our deepest desires?
The elephant is noble and valiant, courageous,
The sun shines for him as much as for us,
The elephant also knows that he is alive on this earth,
Let him enjoy the view, the life, the day, his children,
His soul is probably more beautiful than ours.




Je me demande désormais, 
Si la vie d’un éléphant,  vaut moins que la vie d’un homme,
Les hommes sont si vulgaires, méchants et vicieux,
Les hommes sont si inhumains, pauvre pays,
Pourquoi un éléphant n’aurait-il pas le droit de respirer ?
De vivre debout, d’aimer la savane ?
Que sont devenues nos aventures passées ?
Que sont devenus nos désirs  profonds ?
L’éléphant est noble et valeureux, courageux,
Le soleil brille pour lui autant que pour nous,
L’éléphant sait aussi qu’il est vivant sur cette  terre,
Laissons le profiter de la vue, de la vie, du jour, de ses e

Premium Member Venetian Visit

the light breeze
   cooled the morning sun
daytrip Venice
            had begun
vantage views
       from a vaporetto
inch-by-inch
 the skyline began to  grow

St Marks cameinto view
etched       on a sky  so blue
tourist scrambled
           from the boat
sensory feelings inside     emote

ambling along piazzas   wide
campanile renaissance
                a city's pride
byzantine palaces     bridge of sighs
facias painted
           in pastel dyes
gothic churches     candles ablaze
carvings   to draw the gaze
depicted ceilings     vivant  tableau 
  golden bedecked reredos

pizza italiano     barolo red wine
relax  chat   then  dine
'neath parasoled
            courtyard shade
as gondaliers anchor
             to quayside   arcade

homward  along canal    grande
below balconies  
           overhanging   sun-tanned
houses emulsioned terracotta   bold
kaleidoscopic memories
                  made manifold
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace