Long Wears Poems
Long Wears Poems. Below are the most popular long Wears by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wears poems by poem length and keyword.
As the scarlet sun sets slowly down the cold horizon,
the onyx night glows in the tinsel torrent of twilight,
the shining stars sprout one by one in the milky way,
cosmic concerto of constellation starts in the silky sky.
Ebony night shapes the silhouette of sapphire sky
above the malachite profile of the forest canopy
that wears the bejeweled crown of heavenly décor,
embroidered by lyrical lattice of serenading stardust.
The spray of resonating sequins of the morphed dreams
drizzle through the misty music of the mystique stardust.
The astral symphony resounding in the ambiance of silence
blends with the refrain of whispering passion wind blowing by.
Our paired essence interweaves with the calypso of night,
when the seductive song lyrics of longing the stars write.
Melodic stardust shimmers with the cadence of attuned hearts,
composes a new music of life with the intonation of ecstasy.
The stellar meadow of the magical night sparkles above
with crystal charisma of the constellation of blooming stars,
thus designing the tuneful dreams for our love to sing
in the symphony of silver stardust in the garden of night.
A poet dreams, a tale to tell,
With ink-stained fingers, heart aglow,
He wanders paths where wild thoughts flow.
In valleys deep where echoes dwell,
A poet’s soul weaves tales to tell.
Through bustling streets and the still of night,
He captures whispers, the world in sight,
He sails on dreams, Finding beauty in moments,
but never at a cost.
He scribes down visions that float in the sky,
In laughter and sorrow, in love's sweet embrace,
The poet finds solace, a sacred space.
As doubts creep in, and the nights turn wrong,`
Yet with every stumble, a lesson learned,
He learns that truth wears many a face,
In the silence, the chaos, the mundane routine,
The poet discovers what living can mean.
So he journeys on, with the world at his feet,
In the language of longing, where passions meet,
Forever a seeker, in verses unchained,
He weaves his legacy into the night,
For the journey of a poet is never complete,
It's a boundless odyssey, where hearts and words greet.
A poet finds their sacred space;
With every stanza, every rhyme,
They carve their mark upon the time.
For every journey starts anew,
With ink and passion, they pursue.
You should tell the clown weasel, the other girls said.
I had seen him before, but he looked daffy in his head.
He wears a diamond triangle clown suit and enormous red shoes.
I do not think I could, I admitted. He looks like rather weird news.
He is sage and wise, they told me. He has never steered us wrong.
A beautiful Indian woman who was nodding her head, wore a sarong.
He has an enormous talent for telling you what you could do.
He gives you a multitude of choices, several hints and some clues.
I sought out the weasel, even though I was not optimistic at all.
He gave me some ideas – some huge, others quite tiny and small.
He has such a fine brain, I stayed with him for a couple of hours.
My first impression had been ridiculous, he was full of smart powers.
No iron wheel disturbs the velvet moss,
Nor smoke of cities stains the amber light,
Here, mortal cares are reckoned total loss,
And day retreats to soft, star-laden night.
The silver brooklet hums a quiet song,
To ancient oaks that guard the silent stream,
Here, untamed beauty righteth every wrong,
And wraps the soul within a waking dream.
Come, cast away the shackles of the town,
And let the wildwood mend the weary heart,
When sun-kissed twilight wears her purple gown,
And worldly wisdom falls from us apart.
A breath of pine, a breath of quiet earth,
In nature’s arms, the spirit finds rebirth.
Rainy deluge
Wetness clouds;
Moody day
~~~~~~~~~
Sitting still
Thoughts subside;
Just being
~~~~~~~~~
Stray stopover
Fluffy white snow;
Harsh elements
~~~~~~~~~
Death configures
Body at rest;
Time cut short
~~~~~~~~~
Snowy cascade
Fluffy feel;
Freezing here
~~~~~~~~~
Old-timers
Strolling hand-in-hand;
Lifetime of love
~~~~~~~~~
Brisk snowfall
Wild swirls here;
White splashes
~~~~~~~~~
Wet departure
Goodbye kiss;
Sad glimpses
~~~~~~~~~
Cold winds blow
Misty wild;
Wintry beauty
~~~~~~~~~
Old hands clutch
Strolling together;
Fond memories
~~~~~~~~~~
Howling wind
Facial caress;
Abrupt moment
~~~~~~~~~
Wind howling
Passing my way;
Stillness loiters
~~~~~~~~~~
Angry hands
White walls echo;
Primal angst
~~~~~~~~~
Workday jigsaw
Frustration swells;
Angry climax
~~~~~~~~~
Hand-in-hand
Evening interlude;
Bliss sublime
~~~~~~~~~
Steep ascent
Happy surprise;
Wonder awaits
~~~~~~~~~~
Chinese tea
Yunnan glimpses;
Eight years since
~~~~~~~~~
Fragrant bite
Chocolate ganache cake;
Ecstasy sums
~~~~~~~~~
Silent stillness
Quiet contemplation;
Devotional
~~~~~~~~~
Joy wears well
Facial contours;
Happy eyes light
~~~~~~~~~
My darling sleeps
Speaks softly;
Pillow caress
~~~~~~~~~
Moments brief
Crystalline tears;
Grief saturates
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
25 April 2017
Singapore
Hey guys ,you remember when I suffered that pain
Of been called Mad and accused of been Insane?
I think I found this person, I may know who could it be
Yes! I caught the little sod, he was following me
All this time he’s been aping everything that I do
I told my lawyers and they are ready to sue
He wears the same clothes and drives the same car
He even told other people we have the same mother
I thought to myself, its time to reveal this person
But when I drew close to him the reality began to worsen.
We came eye to eye and he stared at me
Then said “Hi please to meet you I’m your split personality”
Come to these shores
Dwell and explore
See how time tells
Glimpse soul that dwells
Dance of pure nerves
As love now serves
In a sure light
Bold cause put right
Love wears a face
Joy knows sweet grace
Touch in clear tense
Knows willing sense
Thrill as joy spins
Waves deep within
Wit fashions fest
Zest flavours quest
Wise ways work well
Yes soul now spells
A play to cast
Right here at last
Journey with grace
Sparks as waves trace
Time to feel jazz
Space in deep nest
Know sojourn child
Meek love styles wild
Pique fond esteem
Love mingles dream
Leon Enriquez
30 October 2017
Singapore
In the heart of winter's embrace,
Where the world wears a frosty lace,
A shiver dances through the air,
A whisper of cold beyond compare.
The trees stand bare, their leaves long shed,
Their branches etched in icy thread,
A shiver courses through their veins,
As Jack Frost weaves his crystalline chains.
The sun, a pale and distant eye,
Casting shadows long and shy,
Its golden rays too weak to fight,
The creeping chill of the advancing night.
The ground, a canvas painted white,
Crunching beneath the feeble light,
A shiver wraps the earth in sleep,
In its silent, frozen, tranquil deep.
Beneath the moon's ethereal glow,
The world lies still, in silent show,
A shiver in the hushed expanse,
A delicate, ethereal dance.
The wind, a sculptor with a biting chisel,
Carves out shapes in the frozen mistle,
A shiver follows in its wake,
A trembling breath the landscape quakes.
In the quiet, hearts beat warm,
Seeking solace from the storm,
A shiver shared in close embrace,
A moment's peace in a cold world's grace.
So let the shiver come and go,
For it is part of the ebb and flow,
Of life's grand tapestry, woven tight,
With threads of cold and slivers of light.
[Intro]
I take not one, but two—
Cassidy pens all I see.
His quill carves stars into drifting steam,
Spilling my thoughts like melted tea.
He’s writing now, as the train rolls in—
Steam like ghosts against my skin.
The platform hums with names I’ve lost,
And my mind derails without a cost.
[Verse 1]
Steam draws elegies on mirrored breath,
Faces drip like incense in death.
I stir the firmament with a tarnished spoon,
Summon the howl of a long-dead moon.
Cassidy watches from the porcelain sill,
His pen still dancing, deathly still.
He traps each thought before it flies—
And folds them under dreaming skies.
[Chorus]
We’re simmering in the man soup, friend,
Where silence and sinew twist and bend.
Celestial onions begin to weep,
In pots where buried spirits sleep.
[Verse 2]
The butcher wears a crown of flies,
The carrot hums old lullabies.
A prophet peeled like sacred root
Pours gospel steam through Cassidy’s flute.
Galaxies swirl in marrow streams,
Dissolving slow into lucid dreams.
Salted with cries never born to try—
Scribed in steam beneath a dreamy sky.
[Bridge]
Don’t stir the void... it bites back.
Let it curdle... let it crack.
A hand ascends through boiling foam—
Not waving... just... stirring home.
[Chorus]
We’re melting in the man soup, love,
Seasoned with ash from stars above.
Taste buds bloom in violet hue,
While Cassidy writes what I never knew.
[Outro]
Spooned from wombs and poured through fate,
Garnished with the hands of late.
Drink it down, O trembling eye—
A mouthful of the dreamy sky.
The soup has made me comfortably numb...
No edges left, no place to run.
My name dissolves in seasoned foam—
And Cassidy writes: "he won’t come home."
Note: Conceptual Psychedelic Rock / Progressive Ballad In Honor Of My Favorite Band - Pink Floyd
Another Christmas day is finally here
The very thought fills me with such fear
I have to try and control my old Aunty Mable
Once she hits the gin she gets very unstable
Uncle Arthur rushes in and opens the sherry
then sups half the bottle and gets really merry
He begins to sing carols at the top of his voice
I put up with the din… I don’t have much choice!
The last to arrive are old Gladys and Bert
Bert always wears his distasteful Santa shirt
Gladys walks through the door and starts to moan
I wish Bert would leave the old cow at home!
She whines from the moment she removes her coat
And heads for the sofa and grabs the remote
Demanding she has her dinner on her knee -
There’s some crap on the TV that she wants to see
I politely tell Gladys the dinner table is set
And the film will be repeated of that you can bet
So she sits at the table and picks at her starter
then moans very loudly to poor Uncle Arthur
The table’s soon laden with wonderful food
But Gladys is seething, she’s so blinking rude
She says the turkey’s tasteless and it's bone dry
So I pass her the gravy and I try not to cry
Bert finishes the bowl of chestnuts and sprouts
He’ll be passing foul wind in copious amounts
After rich figgy pud he crams in six mince pies …
It’s no wonder he’s gross with huge wobbly thighs
They descend on me each and every year
And eat all my food my wine and my beer
Then we open the gifts that lie under the tree
As per usual they bring just one present for me
Gladys has knitted me a horrendous jumper
it's two sizes too large, I just want to thump her
I dutifully put in on and I feign my delight …
but it will be in the rubbish bin later tonight!
At three we watch The Queen on the telly
Bert’s farting begins; the room gets so smelly
Within minute’s they’re snoring away in their chair
I retreat to the kitchen and silently swear
By the time they wake up all the dishes are done
The doorbell rings; thank god their taxi has come!
This is the LAST time they'll take advantage of me …
Cos I've booked a yule cruise on the Caribbean sea!
Fiction write
12/14/17