Long Whiteness Poems

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


Premium Member Three Sides to Every Story

Reality and fact, a stark, cold, whiteness.
Dripping slowly through the filter of my mind, staining it with a rainbow of color. My mind is full of blues and greens, a hint of yellow around the edges. 

My mouth pours this out into your ears. Gravity feeds it into your colander like mind, adding the bold colors of red and orange. 
And on and on we pour out and fill up, fill up and pour out, each adding our brand of rainbow to the blanko of fact. 

A triad of stories and experience.
A trinity of interpretations.
A triangle of translations.
Each painting is unique and true to the artist. 

_______________________________________________________

I've heard it said secrets can't be kept.
Unless, of course, only one is left…
...of the number who know it or have been told,
for secrets are impossible for some to hold.

If there are two sides to a sordid tale,
you can be certain there are three as well.
And more if I'm to tell the truth...
...for we are all human, yes,  even you!

And we mustn't forget the silent one,
Who witnesses all we've said and done.
So recalling, no secret is safe.
All comes to light on judgment day.

The wickedness and evil here on earth
will burn to ash, just what it's worth.
Those who repent, striving to do what's right,
needn't fear as judgment draws nigh!

No matter whose side of the story is told,
God loves us, our true heart He knows.
No lie will stand, no others believed...
For there are three sides to every story
Form: Other


Premium Member Pearl

Tales many, O pearl, about your formation have I heard,
Some unbelievable, some doubtable, all luring, yet,
In their cautiousness, your soul, the oysters lovingly gird,
As a child in a mother's womb merrily you get set...!

It is true, for months, within your mother's womb you did starve,
Your birth, to the world of lakes, and oceans, is a delight,
Master craftsmen, as other gems, need not cut you or carve,
Midst precious gems, yet, in the global peddle, you shine bright...!

Crowns of kings and queens and gods and goddesses you adorn,
Profound purity of foam-like gold-whiteness in you ooze;
As though the cosmos and the constellations are reborn,
Dust of the sun and the moon and the stars, in you, transfuse...!

None can renounce their enchantment to you, which is boundless,
Your existence, yet, like pure divine presence, is soundless...!!!
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member In a Dream

In a dream 
I saw me walking down a narrow road
I have not seen before,
A road paved with greasy stones of graveyard
I have seen before,
A road cutting a black tunnel in the midnight air
Now thick with mysterious mist,
A road lined with tall defoliated trees
Their trunks now made of cold steel,
A road as dark and desolate 
As the devil would have desired.

The opaque darkness didn't frighten me,
I was not surprised though
For my fluid dark thoughts
Found a black tunnel to flow
As ominously as the devil would have liked.
But not for long.

A beam of light as sharp as silver arrow-head 
At the far end of the tunnel it sprouted,
Raced in a white channel 
And struck me like a lightning.
I stood motionless, almost blind.
But not for long.

When the light suddenly disappeared
I saw a white car standing like a swan ahead,
The whiteness extruding a glow of purity
And encasing a chiseled face with dove eyes engraved 
Wide open in stark fear.
I felt dark thoughts soak my soul
And make my body black and bare.
I started to walk,
This time not through the black tunnel the road made
For I became a tunnel the devil made
But on the lighted path those frightened eyes paved.
But not for long.

The car, the swan, suddenly rushed toward me
Like a burning white meteor,
Crushed my body into black dust
And splintered my soul into black shards,
All sucked by the road paved with the stones of graveyard.
I woke up burying me in the grave,
In a dream.

The Age of Innocence

The time of innocence 

We grew up thinking whiteness had to do
with skin colour, since we came from a Nordic country 
this made sense; the lack of sun and so on.
Now it is political.
Whiteness is responsible for all ills in the world
a good thing to remember when getting up at six
walking to the fish factory, putting in long hours
for a meagre pay packet.
We know of the intrepid, who colonized the East
and Africa, we did not benefit from this other
then asked to give our hard-earned money to
a religious mission to help the starving.
We resent being called racist, we were as poor
as those we sent money to; at a time when we had
to steal coal at the railway depot and plunder
potatoes in a farmer’s field. 
Great composers, noted scientists, inventors and
prodigious writers were white contributed to
their skills to make life bearable; yes, we are 
proud of them and feel no guilt in our whiteness.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member An Ancient Place

Quaint town, orange sky and spitting roosters,
a trail of mosaic remembrances translates
into lavender hints of folks’ spiraled notes:
women balancing baskets of corn
strewn on the hips, a siege of  fluted weeds
meshing  with tropical winds along the lake...

being there, just there among ruined cathedrals
and flared umbrellas I cannot touch:  I think
there is never an after… for cruising along
roads leading to papaya huts,
the numbered days wrap my flesh with a
repertoire of flora, sitting upon the magic of rapture;
amiably watching a madrigal of a fiesta…
the carriage of lifted chants rippling
on anointed  elements of earth and fire.

Those blessed statues, these I cannot caress,
not even the letters in the museum  
which tamed stars of centuries’ quest: 
it can be cold just watching without holding.
My eyes swallow the moon
beautiful with some kind of soulful whiteness;
my own river of reverie tipsy. Misty.



For Silent One's Contest
Enter the Your best poem with metaphors


Premium Member Afterglow

Softly we drown through the gathering whiteness,
we float in splendor on ripples of calm.
Gentleness drawn from the lingering brightness,
shadows anoint us with whispering balms.

Softly, oh so softly, the angels are singing,
the star beams are winging their intricate dance;
and slowly, so slowly, in cadence most holy
the glistening sparkles envelop and entrance.

Softly, so softly they graze us,
rustles of silk in the cushion-blind pall.
Images strange to entrap and amaze us,
shrouds to protect us should ever we fall.

Softly, softly, ever so softly
we drown through the angels that graze us so deep,
and the dance of the stars that entraps us so roughly
propels us with gentleness down into sleep.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Seaside Stroll

The sound of the sea at the shore,
is a constant whisper-roar. 
The sharp cry of  a sea- gull,
punctuates it for me.  
A breeze brings the scent of salt,
and brushes my skin, 
playing havoc with my hair.
I feel the softness of the sand,
the icy coolness of waves at my feet,
and the sandy grit between my toes.

I sense freedom all around me,
as I see, scantily clad people,
diving into waves, walking into the wind,
talking in groups, and bathing in warm sunlight.

Their voices are carried to me,
as a soft babble,
with laughter, and squeals of delight 
intermingled.
I see the beach,
strewn with scattered shells,
slick jellyfish, driftwood, 
seaweed and smooth sea-worn rocks.
I gather treasures that appeal to me.

I watch dogs frolic, running in circles, 
children building sandcastles.
I feel myself refreshed by the blue sky,
the aquamarine water,
and the sun-dazzled, whiteness of  sand.
  
I let my thoughts wander, as I
wonder, my senses sparkle, alive.

Suzanne Delaney

Premium Member The Glitz the Glamour the Frost

The whiteness is blue, and wet, and fluffy to the eye,
Even when it is not.
It brings hot sweet cocoa and warm mittens into the memory,
Twinkling with glitz, glamour, and frost,
Icicle magic, dazzling your eyes.
The air so cold, it brings tears to your face,

The whiteness is blue, faerie-magic-like, not here every day.
Snow falls daintily at first, then she picks up speed, 
as there is no stopping her.
She glistens as she waits for you to test her
snow-ball-ability.

Is she wet enough to roll? She brings out childhood memories
faster than most. You remember chasing your cousins, making
snow angels, snow forts, and snow men.

As far as your eye can see, the land is magic, blanketed now,
with a glamour you can only get with snow and frost. 
A reverence she commands, you feel instantly,
not felt during any other season.

The glitz, the glamour, the frost, rhinestone twinkles on a 
sea of white, dazzling your eyes out.
Form: Imagism

Gone Girl

Is it the whiteness of your smile or the twinkle in your eye
The sound of your voice or the cut of your jib
the cloths you wear, or the things you share 
that makes you so a.d.o.r.a.b.l.e 

Is it the glint in your eye
The loudest of that giggle, 
the tears of laughter shared 
that makes you so amusing 

Is it the kindness in your heart 
your gentle soul, and loving touch
the need to help when your family need you most
that makes you so adoring.

it's the words you speak, of love and life
and the time we spend together 
that helped shape that part of life 
but the thing I remember most is your Betrayal.

Black people vs the world

No your burdens are not for us to carry 
We know your game 
You fake a smile 
Bat your little eyelashes 
Pretend you care 
Then reveal your true motive 

You want us to fight your battles for you 
But when we need help
On your end all we hear is silence
While you sit back and watch the violence
Unfold while you ignore our calls 
For someone to care about our people 

You try and manipulate the situation 
Cry your fake tears as manipulation
And beg for compassion
You people of colour should stick together 
But the responsibility to keep you safe 
Always falls on black people 

You claim we're allies 
But we don't want your performative smiles 
Just for you to go ' blind '
To a black persons cries 
So why are you surprised 
When we sit back and rest
And your not gonna make us feel guilty 
For the same things you've done to us
So instead of relying on us for comfort 
How about you become accountable
For your actions 
Because you've seen what the world has done 
And still choose to not help us
And then get mad at us, you are so hypocritical 
And say we're the problem
Even though you are a person of colour
Know some of the struggles 
Because when push comes to shove 
You'll choose whiteness over blackness
And what's even more sicker 
You participate in killing us
Just to get bonus points 
From white people 
So when you ask for help, just know that we're done

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