Long Wavelengths Poems
Long Wavelengths Poems. Below are the most popular long Wavelengths by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wavelengths poems by poem length and keyword.
The Blood Moon is entwined in grape vines
Where it swirls around and climbs!
The Moon looms in the curl,
Guarding its encounter with Earth and Sun.
Thus, night's descent has begun
With scattered light on the run!
A total lunar eclipse
A celestial event not to dismiss
A celestial pastry with vegan cream
Red wavelengths are glowing in our dreams.
Let's strip down to the theatrical roles
Of flying faeries with merry souls!
Dancing faes, reddish delights,
Are concentric circles this golden night,
Ancient runes, sounding tunes,
Everything whirls in the Moon.
Faeries take flight with lunar ease,
Into the skies, into the trees,
Then gliding with the breeze.
Hang on tight as new mightiness arises.
Star-gamers explore mysterious skies.
Transformation occurs, to no surprise.
Terracotta towers touch red Moonlight
While rusty brown calms the flames
The eclipse announces sky games!
Yellow ochre softens sentiments.
Burnt umber cloaks mysteries.
Blood red ignites history.
Flamingo pink, a heart's reprieve
With enchanting alignments to deceive
Intense energy shifts are received.
Alignment comes from astral play,
Just as the Stars say,
"May the Spiral guide the Blood Moon's eclipse
With Heart and Cosmos on our lips!"
At sunset, orange frescos on the west wall
Sink gradually into the bowels of hills flung
By distant wavelengths of a backward illusion,
Which yells silently at concupiscent terns,
Yodelling and returning from carnivals of the
Wild. From the faint glow, a rainbow stretches
For a cuddle, musing over a curious world,
Ditched by diaphanous tarradiddles of the odd.
Shadows on ground level travel on painted
Tars, recreating their bosoms on surfaces
Raven-black and soot-framed.
Seagulls welcome waves in one cracked voice,
Honking the horns of billed staccato.
Among able-bodied patterns of bituminous tracks,
Rivers, ponds, pools seek their faces on sun-flushed
Mirrors, which laugh at their fatuous inclinations
Mired by the sputum of drained rains.
Do you remember
when it was early,
or when too late
falling in curtsied tide..
feet too deep in depth
where wandering shallows hide
and all our pirate secrets kept.
Am I still the stranger in your night?
so much you still don't know..
making my memory smile
watching love grow
you came shinin' to me,
a simple cell phone
your only light.
Like soldiers laughing nervously
as they march off to the front
realizing life's candle, their only chance
perhaps afraid, still feel want
and wait the call to advance.
Sat watching awhile under a tall tree
next to a carved stone
learned you've done the same
let days wander on their own
never dwell too much
the reason they've flown
yet
still so glad they ever came.
I see you through a sort of prism
one softly spun in sugar and fire lit
where wavelengths in light are most bent
in hindsight, bet your maker meant
to name you Violet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Everything you've ever wanted is on the other side of fear."
-George Addair
Fallen snow covering rooftops, pigeons walking on tiles, claw prints intertwined.
Water changing colour becoming ice, scattering light.
Air being trapped on the tips of ice crystals, appearing a beautiful white sight.
Cold wind blowing with a loud whispering sound, hurting my mind.
Triggering memories of a lifetime with you, years and years rewind.
Waking up from the pain in the past, my aching heart confined.
Wavelengths of red, orange and yellow releasing the sun, becoming free as the moon appears bright.
*S.Ü*
There are killings,
suffocation in gullet
hell holes, decapitations
by mandibles stalking in shadows,
death pits at the bottom
of slippery throated flowers
and racked on a web,
a struggling moth
slowly turning into soup.
My garden is a slaughter
field littered with the leftovers
from deadly feasts.
And the victims….what
of their inaudible cries,
the screams broadcast
on wavelengths beyond
my ear. Do they plead
for mercy, feel pain
register in whatever
rudimentary brain animates
their brief lives.
Help me ! Please help me !
does the moth cry,
feeling the spiders fangs
penetrate and pump poison
into its trussed body.
Or do I give such
small life undue significance
affording it compassion
when it should be exempt.
But where's the line ?
Size ?
Its propensity for domestication,
its rank on an arbitrary scale ?
The perfumed beauty
of a single flower diverts
the senses and disconnects
attention to the suffering
of small things.
We are blissfully unaware.
Does anyone hear them,
does anyone care,
or does life's little screams
fall into an uncaring nothingness
and if so, then what of our own.
Before there was a word,
there was a loneliness
within the pin pricked night.
Waves of vibrations, sound,
coalescent’s gestate.
Planets were birthed with souls.
There was only the soul
and a longing for words,
synapses gestating
wavelengths of loneliness,
the aching lack of sound,
and the celestial night.
Man was born to midnight
with eyes and ears for soul
to din’s discordant sound,
no harmony, no words,
aging, aching, alone,
thoughts thus, wordless, gestate.
Circular gestation
for the day became night
and weakened loneliness,
woman kind brought her soul.
Ether resounded with words
for those souls, the God sound.
Strong, sweet, silibant sound
released from gestation
song formed from combined words,
crooning fills the nubile night
joining of mated souls.
The Word freed loneliness.
No longer alone, vibrating within the sound each atom relates to the soul
Gestation continues in the never-ending cycle of night and the Word.
*dedicated to L'nass Shango & David Smalling for their inspiration.
Looking out the small kitchen window
Sunshine accents tiny buds on willow
Then float away down where Lilacs bloom
Spring always bestowes on me vroom
Down by the creek in the fresh air
Escape into spring without a care
Feel the air saturate my being
Honeysuckle penetrates freeing
Mocking Birds shore nest with tenderness
In Pale Pink Running Rose trellis
Watching sunrises move slowly north
All blooms their faces stretch forth
Spring energies all life with strengths
The sunshine enters humans wavelengths
Opens doors to powers hid in dark
Restores to all Cupid's arrow in heart
(Expanded Crystalline ..)
Solitude breeds malignant nemesis
couched as woe seated heavily
within mine angst
riddled quavering psyche
blinding clairvoyance
debilitates enthusiastic frequency
wavelengths propagate unfounded
probable future destitution
predicated upon intractable lifetime mired
within groveling penuriousness
"dirt poor" accursed fate
pervaded plentiful not ready
for prime time playing years
repercussions long fostered anguish,
when offspring begot
(particularly the whip smart eldest)
she jockeyed herself as winner
with good n plenti horsesense
chomped at the bit, albeit figuratively,
when aforementioned progeny
attained age of awareness
underscored by livingsocial
in the horn of plenty
regarding estates generally
dripping exuberant wealth,
where plush domiciles within MainLine
accentuated luckless financial pitfall,
asper yours truly afflicted mental illness
mine generalized anxiety, panic,
obsessive compulsive disorder...
ascribed to existence squandered,
nee imprisoned impenetrable prison
found me captive undermining
ordinary healthy development
sabotaging approximately five decades
constituting better part sans mein kampf,
which total three plus score orbitz,
yet far and away psychologically afflicted
nsync and linkedin with
emotional, mental, and social trauma
(learning difficulty compounded
dilemma repercussions extant today),
now healthily sublimated,
courtesy painful pubescent exhumation
poetry metier write
cathartic, holistic, narcotic...
plus weekly therapy sessions
also exercise in toto with meditation
supplements summoning forth
inner Wizard of Oz
to traverse cratered abysmal pits
gingerly sidestepping death traps
awash with skeletal wreckage
indelible scars perforating
air supply condemning me
aging baby boomer nsync
lead zeppelin plunges
corporeal essence gripped
stranglehold asphyxiates
sputtering torturous undulations
irrepressibly avast impossible mission
livingsocial counter intuitive
rather hermetically sealed simian
accustomed himself being alone.
Billowed in black by my schizophrenic ponderings, these personalities are somehow resolute.
Within a matrix of survival; they coincide.
Fractals of quanta and wavelengths that fall from grace, will soon depict a Homunculus face.
Spanning out into oblivion as it gestures it’s courtesy beneath the world sheet.
By Orch OR, my loyalties are reduced to inconceivable amounts of ones or zeros.
When they do reduce, why is it a woman's face I see him seeing?
He watches a holograph of her, looking with a handheld azimuth to turn its view.
Sleeping in a hole of shambles, I see them seeing myself see nothing, but I feel my hadron body shrill.
Shadows like carbon fiber polymers are threaded intraosseously, trimming my astro-man's shins and knuckles with dark armor.
He now stands fortified as a hominid of diamond; surrounded by a phoxonic shield.
He protects her in his holon cocoon of qualia; it cannot be computed by perturbation, heuristics, or algorithmic affronts.
All but to fight back a bad dream, one that could harm the face we saw him seeing.
For better or worse we shall remember the sentiment.
To record this exert of love, he wrote the whole thing down as I thought it up.
Doing right by the left side.
Before I turn the light on, I put his clothes on inside out and tags back.
As if by coincidence, it was an imperfectly perfect fit.
I don't like sunshine
at a stretch
Still, if it is staying away
for long
I am robbed of my roses
A continuous rain
a non-stop super express train
I do criticize
but then a few raindrops
on tender leaves
your cheeks
I always smile at
A lot of harboured images
many a wavelengths
behind the hedges
Your too frequent footsteps
renders me monotonous
the thorns and thistles
I miss
Then again
if no sounds
at the door every day
the plant pots look hollow
As a matter of fact
the soil has a thirst for
new plants and creepers
both native and alien
folding the neck
there the cotton clouds
are descending
from her hands
I need a paper boat