Long Vivid Poems

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


Amongst Sleep

I am conscious of the passing minutes
which bind me to a sleep-filled night.
I say to myself that restful hours are crucial,
so that I may use the coming day wisely.
I enjoy the anticipation of sleep
and the snug warmth of the cascading bed sheets 
about my unrested self.
Then in such moments, I look forward to the vivid
journey of dreams, that I hope will accompany me
through the darkness.
I love the freedom of dreams and the many persona's
I get to play.
I'm no actress, yet in my dreams I play a perfect part:
even as I fly in the twilight.
Awakening in the night is not a rare occurrence,
and I find my mind travelling past each dream
like a slide-show.
I sometimes envy who I am in my dreams:
some of the beautiful landscapes I get to see.
In day time hours as the rain falls down my window,
I smile knowingly that such landscapes aren't so far away
after all.


Lily Flower

Oh, lily, oh, lily the enchanting lily flower 
she is adorable and kind unfold with thou magical beauty poise in her highness stand from the crown 
With a sincerity of joy and vivid image
Oh, lily, oh, lily so captivating to the eyes
in her humbleness and exquisite style
Oh, the enchanting lily flower 
she is so delicate and elegant with her soft tenderness  touch show
So treat her with nurture care and kind 
Oh, lily, oh, lily gracious lily 
she comes in many form of display petal showcase to see 
She is captured to all with her spectacular view in white, yellow, orange, pink multi-colored form of parade   
With her gracious smile greet upon us that enthralled our heart and soul
Oh, lily, oh, lily the enchanting lily flower 
she is one of special kind with the splendor bloom 
that she brings to fill with delight 
Oh, lily, oh, lily the enchanting lily flower 
she is exuded with her soft brilliant grace 
speak color dazzle in the warm spring sign
With her sweet scene of refreshing air leaving us with her indelible sense
Oh, lily, oh, lily the enchanting lily flower 
she is charming and radiant with her vibrant 
personality that embrace us with her reviving stage presence
© Hanh Chau  Create an image from this poem.

The Man Who Is Not Afraid of Anyone

Look at me carefully, staring at me in the eye:
am I intimidating you? Where's your trust in me?
Another friend more royal than me does not exist!
I fought for a free and free existence,
not to be admired and accept laurels
which are reserved for the strongest 
and most worthy than I! Ah, I confess that 
I do not seek the glory of the gods,
it won't make me happy: only true friendship;
look closer at me: hear how I breathe...
inhaling the scent of the lulling breeze
that caresses me and demands no censorship!

I am the man who is not afraid of anyone
and having walked miles from youth until today:
I've learned that life must be lived to be understood
and appreciated with a valiant attitude...
giving an example to those who lack courage
and are afraid to show it and be alienated...
as the most ruthless force beats constantly
in a resurgent soul that only a warrior has
in those most decisive and exasperating moments!

Do not roll out carpets when I return from a victory, 
my humility will not accept it, but I would be stricken by the joy
of your honorable act: it will remain in my vivid memory...
while you will wonder why I am so humble and defend my virtue:
all that I am and will be was instilled in me to pursue
the valor and grit of a heroine and an angel who fell from Heaven;
she guided me with her wise heart bringing me close to God,
and warning me that my path would have been long and hard:
if I had the same persistent faith that she had,
and so I've become the man who is not afraid of anyone!
Form: Rhyme

Man, a Solitary Traveler

Poetically sees the night, an overwhelming depth of a moment
Divine palm scatters the fullest moment, prayer beads lament
And, shining stars twinkle.  The moment of an earnest spree.
Illusion of a mystic mirage, touch the deep water, flowing free.

Lonely mountain standing tall like the giant of the myth, silent
Lights touch the shadowy image in a solemn cry. Vivid, prudent.
A lonely soul standing on a lonely rock, a rock lying there quietly
All wrong words fix in tune there, in a fading song of melancholy.

Every accomplishment has a darker side of pain and a lonely drift 
The enigmatic stars in the sky glitter, with the ever-changing shift. 
Life touches at a junction in time, and we are never the same
A cherished memory, a treasure in heart, in the traveling realm.

What an extraordinary urge to reach the beloved, an outrageous one!

Premium Member Wish List

Abide right here with simple poise:
Health shows just how beauty can be,
Allow fond cheer to splurge calm voice;
Prize sure endow ever gently,
Play proves pure proof as frolic knows;
Yes dare to live with faith and hope.
Wise is dear truth in ample flow,
Ink stains now give thoughts vivid scope;
Start to feel good with profound thought,
Heed then your heart where tact frames act.
Live treasured mood to sculpt fine lot,
Impulse seeds start to sculpt grand pact;
Sense what you see with love and grace,
Touch what can be splendour's sweet face.




Leon Enriquez
22 October 2015
Singapore
Form: Sonnet


Premium Member These Eyes

I took a long look in the mirror this morning and boy was I surprised…I think the best way to put it would be…I couldn’t believe my eyes.

There was a time my eyes were much bluer…a brighter…vivid shade…
when…I wondered as I stared…did their color begin to fade?

And when did the skin underneath them begin to droop and sag…when did my once youthful face develop old man bags?

At first glance, I admit, I was taken aback…I was shook…so I leaned into the mirror to take a closer look.

Up close I didn’t see the bags or notice their color had lost their sheen…up close all I saw were all the wonders these eyes have seen.

Yes, these eyes may have grown a little older…they may have developed a few scars…but they’ve also seen the colors of a rainbow…sunsets…the ocean…shooting stars.

These eyes have seen love as it’s unfolded in many a shape and size…love both given and received I saw reflected in these eyes.

These eyes have seen me make mistakes…they’ve seen me make amends…they’ve been happy as they’ve witnessed the beginning of life…and sad to see life end.

They’ve seen flowers bloom in Spring…Fall colors and Winter snows…they’ve seen many a baby’s smile…o moonlit night…they’ve seen my family grow.

These eyes have seen the joys of living…they’ve seen its sadness and its fears…they’ve been overcome with laughter…they’ve been filled with tears. 

As I leaned back from the mirror…my vision seemed more keen…comforted and energized by all the sights my eyes have seen.

I walked away forgetting how much their color’s faded…or how those bags under Tham came to be…and excited to experience all the sights they’ve yet to see.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
age
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Labyrinthine

LABYRINTHINE

Life took me to winding roads, twisting streets,
sharp abrupt turns, dead-end alleys finding myself
rambling with no direction or just wandering
the labyrinthine streets and alleys of my life.

There were times I had mountains, hills to climb
afraid or just go through the valley lost, alone.
Like the periods of depression I had to go through
for the labyrinthine plots of my life were complex. 
 
Yes, so complicated, convoluted that there were
many times I thought of just leaving everything I had
and everybody I love to escape my tortuous life and
start again; start fresh where nobody knows me.

Vivid thoughts of just packing a suit case with minimal
belongings, parking and leaving my car at the airport,
flying to Europe and finding an abbey, where nuns
could take me in to stay in exchange of my services. 

I just wanted a simple, plain, easy life and nothing
to care about and maybe helping clean the abbey
for meals and a place to stay would be sufficient.
Funny thing is I do not like cleaning, never like it.

But I could not leave my responsibilities for myself 
and my children and I continued on going forward
the pathways with all the twists and turns I had to
go through to find the center of my own labyrinth. 


12/27/21    Submitted 
                  A Strand (Dec 26) Poetry
                  Brian Strand

9/15/21     "L" Contest New Or Old Poetry
                 Constance La France

Premium Member Banish Me To the Bookshop

BANISH ME TO THE BOOKSHOP

Chain me, so I can roam. Lock me away in this bower.
Banish me to the bookshop - i’ll enjoy this affair for hours!

First editions recline behind smudge-proof glass.
Lock-and-key lick of lips, but I can’t afford the brass

ring, the covet of unopened leather, so I’d dance
through each unshielded shelf, illuminated romance,

the touch like a lover’s touch, before the cover’s
turned down. Miniature to oversized, to discover -

here titles do matter - beautiful, powerful, charming.
Turning over the self-help discourse, disarming

of self-loathing, fear, and bitter soul. Then straight
to a perfumery of fairy tales, feel the weight

of each piece of fruit in the balance of my teeny palms.
Even in the claustrophobic stuffiness of this shop, I feel calm.

Like tickling braille, my fingers glide over each word,
riveted by the familiar scent, I close my eyes, bestirred

by mysteries, history, fantasy, and the coquetry,
the delicious pageantry, vivid hues and imagery of poetry.

Chain me, so I can roam. Lock me away in this bower.
Banish me to the bookshop - i’ll enjoy this affair for hours!

3/10/2021
Bookshop
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Thinking In Black and White

A faded, vintage and washed out photograph feel
     embraces my soul to create beautiful images,
I love to capture texture and detail and shapes
           and the shadows and details are truly amazing.

It is endless the beautiful images that can be visualized
     the only limit is imagination and inspiration,
I find black and white photography dramatic and vivid
           never mind the cost of film developing and the time.

Step into an out-dated, antiquated age that is alive
     delight in how the light falls and the intensity,
manipulate the image to compose a mood and aura divine
          I have started thinking in black and white.
           
                     . . .    and just turn off your color vision


__________________________________
March 20, 2015

Poetry/Verse/Thinking In Black and White
Copyright Protected, ID 03-655-627-20
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France

Submitted to the Standard contest, The Colors Black and White
Sponsor, Laura Loo, Judged 2017

First Place
___________________________

Entered in the Standard contest, Black and White Photograph 
Sponsor,  Giorgo, Judged 2015

First Place
Form: Verse

Premium Member Poet, the Alchemist

Poet, the Alchemist of prose 
magician, conjurer, word flows
vivid imagery, life sublime 
illuminating minds through time
a poet’s imagination

Sweetly words lie in hallowed rows
casting and themes, a story grows
or rhyme and skip along a page
Poet, the Alchemist.

Perhaps a poet’s holy grail
write one poem that might entail
philosophy, enlightenment
that would be an accomplishment
non-fiction, not a fairy tale
Poet, the Alchemist.


Entered in NA rerun-2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
5th Place with thanks

Entered in "Rondeau Poetry Contest"
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Written 25/07/2019
Honourable Mention thank you
Form: Rondeau

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