Long Weep Poems
Long Weep Poems. Below are the most popular long Weep by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Weep poems by poem length and keyword.
Roads of gold and gates of pearl are thoughts solidified, finding resting place here,
having been purified, first, in a trial by fire-
in the bulwarked organ
of love's pineal desire.
Here.
Hyssop, Catmint and Cinnamomum share
her spirit animal, with makeshift technicality,
borrowed by her scent of purity.
The pervasiveness
of jasmine in the air in ulterior beguilement
the enstylement of my drive.
You are a banshee on the side of deserted highway,
a shiver of creep peaking near as I take a leak there.
A light orbing the mountains
and darting into the sea.
A 4D shadow cast upon 3D tolemetry of space and
time and think.
Was your curtsey before God pleasing?
Your arguments for my torment convincing?
An Elemental in a ballet of playthings.
O Ballerina of Love's rhetorical spectre,
boomerings-like crowns wearing.
Dancing in shadows, whispering in the night,
You ignite a fire, called daylight,
to show your darings.
But your love is fleeting,
a melancholic melody, of eel.
Leaving my heart in perpetual reverie,
I yearn for your touch, your tender embrace of feel.
Every graceful sway, every delicate step,
a conjugal congeal,
captures the essence of a love deep
at my core deficiency appeals.
In twirling pirouettes, passion's heart is kept,
and in arabesques, emotions start
to weep whispers as I sleep in Elysian fields
of milkweed and lobelia and nightshade,
chin on window cill.
Mesmerized by the Amber waves of your influence,
One hundred percent times two in-stilled.
I kissed the rain
in memory of each soft caress
that lies within my emotional debris
to burn on love's pyre
in flames that weep
to leave an ashen realm
of shadows fleeing like rising smoke
Where my heart trembles silent...ever soft
with distant thoughts that silently yield
to lost silhouettes and fading footsteps
trapped on the road of my darkness
They drift through time on life's turning wheel
leaving a trail etched through the ashes of heartache
immersed in the pain-filled silence
of floating pictures that dwell within
These apparitions of lost lovers
whose faces remain vibrant
like flocks of doves rising from my heart
soar on visions of yesterday's laments
where beauty lived once
disperse in the darkness of memory
where the rain falls quietly in my soul
Day after day, endless, I walked away from your tomb,
brokenhearted, melancholy, sorrowful and woebegone forlorn
my life in bits,
and pieces
my steps faltering, halting and hesitating
I wanted to die
to be with you:
under the cold white snow of winter, and
the azure sun:
I spent days, months, maybe a year desolate, like this
but inside me a fire was burning brighter and stronger,
then, one day I threw off my black cloak of grief
I felt the sun, on
my soul
my steps now move to the notes of music
I want to live
to be happy:
each day is a new day now for me, and
life is wonderful:
I still go visit your tomb, and it makes me weep
but now, I leave the grief there and turn away.
__________________________
March 16, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/'Different From Yesterday
Copyright Protected, ID 17-1008-690-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Love blooms in shadows, a fragile rose unfurled,
Where light cascades, painting futures yet untold.
We seek our haven in a world askew,
A tilted canvas where our stories unfold.
Yours and mine, intertwined, yet to be bold.
Our embrace, a circle etched in flaws,
Imperfect edges mirroring our souls.
Each scar a whisper, a battle bravely fought,
A testament to love that takes its tolls.
We rise and fall, forever seeking goals.
A lesson turns, a chapter starts anew,
Yet echoes linger, patterns reappear.
The past, a shadow that still haunts our dreams,
A constant whisper we can still hear.
This haunting ache, a feeling all too clear.
But in this dance of light and shade we find,
A human truth, a vulnerability deep.
To love despite the darkness, to embrace
The imperfections we can't seem to keep.
We hold each other close, our silent weep.
For love's true beauty lies in what remains,
The fragile hope that flickers in the night.
A promise whispered, a hand held tight,
A love that blooms, both vulnerable and bright.
We rise again into a brand new light.
Xerxes Wept
How ravaged is this land,
a virgin found by men of war.
Who sets upon our temple violent bands,
burns wisdom's record,
scars beauty left by sculptors' hands?
This land's conqueror is he,
and Xerxes is his name.
But Xerxes weeps, a dew-eyed maid.
Why should he weep,
the conqueror of this land?
He weeps for what he knows and sees.
His mighty host, his men-at-arms,
his hundred myriad blades and shields
he sees dissolve like flakes of snow
upon wet grass, fresh fallen.
A hundred years, their flesh is dust
and rust their gleaming glory.
A conqueror of conquerors is there,
and Chronos is his name.
His hands are stronger than all human hands
That hold the blade and hurl the dart.
His hands none stays
save One alone,
that One who guides the sculptor's hand
inspires the pen, gives prophets words,
leads those who will in righteous ways,
the conqueror of the conqueror of conquerors,
Whose name is one, one only.
Resting it ever-so-gently on her
shoulder, the young girl twirled
the brightly-colored parasol in her hand
and like a child's pinwheel
it became a blur - a joyous
dizzy dance of vivid rainbow shades ...
Bringing the gloomy air around her
(and the wet sidewalk), to gaudy life ...
the rapid rotations spinning the rain off like a
lawn sprinkler - it was THAT sight
that made her think of her sister and warm
summer showers at the farm ...
They'd put bathing suits on
and dance together among the pear trees
pretending they were the precocious "Bennet" sisters
(vying for the attention of Mr Darcy, of course)
soft grass like a chartreuse carpet
under their tender toes ...
Spinning and giggling and
teasing each other in their horribly feigned
British accents ... oh, for just one more of those
carefree country days - life was anything BUT fanciful now -
private school and obligations and over five
years since her sister had passed ...
But, she was with her, still
and this was her kind of day
she would make the most of it, her beloved
sister's umbrella in her grasp - celebrate life itself
and the joyous weep of heaven's happy
tears and perhaps ...
A dance ... in the soft summer rain.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Pick 8, Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 6th Place ~ in the "A Rainy Day" Poetry Contest, Sara Kendrick, Judge & Sponsor.
* I chose picture number five *
Mankind in all his stupidity and greed is slowly destroying our beautiful earth, the warnings are there but he chooses to ignore them.
Quote by poet.
I sat down under the cool shade of some weeping willow trees,
a babbling brook flowed nearby and was so soothing to hear.
I felt totally relaxed then I fell asleep and started to dream.
So, I asked the trees a question why is it that you all weep?
one said" We weep because of the way man treats mother earth,
he cuts down her forests because of greed causing climate change,
he dumps rubbish in her great oceans and is killing all her wildlife,
and causes great conflicts because others don't share his views.
So, you see my friend we don't have much to be happy about".
A plane flying overhead finally woke me up from my deep sleep.
It troubled me what I'd dreamt and as I walked away, I wept with them.
Everywhere I go, I want to cry.
I see a black cat's green and evil eye.
Whether I'm away or at home,
I weep and hear his awful moan.
I look at a constellation in the sky -
it's that cat, and don't ask me why,
but I see his cat eyes in the stars
just before that pound of flesh and scars.
He must be following me around,
on every highway, and in every town.
He's crossed each and every path.
His menacing moan is filled with wrath.
Every time I roll a pair of dice,
he strikes me down like so many mice.
When the hair on his back stands on end,
what does his sinister presence portend?
First, he sent me to my first wife.
Now, I think he wants to take my life.
"Kill me or set me free", I plead.
He says, "A ball of yarn is all I need".
Should I play a melody that pulls on your heart strings
Then stand back and watch the emotions that it brings
An inner fault becomes a crevice, this crevice a canyon
Your heart was broken, and so abused then abandoned
I watched as you fell, as heard you uncontrollably weep
Shocked as to your depth of emotions that ran so deep
Every lyric cuts into you, as the music haunts your soul
If ever there was a hope within you it’s lost its sad goal
I stand ashamed at the realization of what I have done
Doing this to you it was like pulling the trigger of a gun
The melody ends as you breathed your final last breath
The sadness you released, is now gone with your death
In the distance another melody plays; another one falls
This is how it has to be, when the melody of death calls
How I take pride when you come to my side
You can't stay away, and I sway as you play
Running your fingers over my peekaboo veil of lace
My emerald covering of grace…
I tremble as you sigh as you cry…your soul dry
Falling, crumbling, crawling...
to that place at my base
Your welcomed retreat….when his kisses were sweet
Taken in by my charm, the beauty of my name, my fame
lovers, you frolicked without shame....
Now he says you're to blame
“Weeping Willow”, you whisper….”Nothing’s the same”…..
There you lie; there you cry….and the day, it goes by
beside the placid lake where I stand as you quake
I want to sweep you up, shake all dormant senses awake….
Please...make no mistake....
I’m rooted in soil; I toil, not letting the goodness...spoil
The first of my peers to herald the spring, comfort I bring
Now my arms, I stretch down….touching the ground….
I cloister you deep; do not weep...
Let me lull you to sleep,
while my promise I keep:
It’s true…
Weeping Willow watches over You….
For Charlotte Puddifoot's Tree Contest
August 22, 2015