Long Yin Poems
Long Yin Poems. Below are the most popular long Yin by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Yin poems by poem length and keyword.
He’s got me reeling
All gas and no brakes
I can’t take my eyes off him for my own soul’s sake
My hearts got this ache
My mind’s wide awake
I wanna take a dip inside his eyes of blue lakes
I’m already drowning
But I don’t mind the deep
I wake up in dreamland, he’s there in my sleep
I’m acting so shy
He’s acting so bold
My feelings are hot, his gaze is so cold
The yin to my yang
The venom to my fangs
I thought I could catch up but I guess I can’t hang
I’m caught in the current
I’m lost in the chase
But I’m guided by his aura and the smile on his face
I’d rather be lost
Than find my own way
He’s the fire that freezes, the sweet kind of pain
I’m playing with fire
My heart’s drenched in wine
I’m just hoping one day that his pulse matches mine
His performance so restrained
As he stood there on stage
With a quiet dignity that wasn’t
Just An effect of advancing age.
An economy in his movement
That wasn’t always his way
Gone the boundless energy of
His younger performing days
But the Big Yin is fighting
dread Parkinson’s Disease
It takes obvious effort to do now
What he used to do with ease.
Yet he stands there with courage
And he stands there with pride
And he tells the world
Hr has nothing to left to hide.
Actor Playright, Poet, Artist
All well as his comedic skill
This multi talented man
Driven on by force of will
To leave a legacy of laughter
Of sheer manic joy
There for the world
That cannot be destroyed.
He will stand in my memory
As he so effortlessly tried
And never ever failed to
Make me laught until I cried
No longer able to perform
Art now brings him release
And hopefully as well
A calm and inner peace.
Daily being consumed
He continues to fight on
This world a poorer place
When finally he is gone.
Glimpse that sure light where joy meets cheer
Note how fond flights move love right here
Opt for fine sight with hope that steers
Now is good time to work with zest
Yes to clear chimes that sync with fest
Vouch for deep rhymes in wit's sweet jest
Live that grand flow of faith you feel
Etch fast or slow that happy thrill
Meet love that knows in calm reveal
Dance well the pace of profound poise
Niche a calm space to honour choice
Ask for warm grace as deed funds voice
Endow each day with succinct good
Love shows the way to mellow moods
Observe how play words soul's dear food
Charm serves wise zeal the path you take
Intuit grand will in vibrant stake
Near or far feel what journey makes...
Leon Enriquez
21 November 2016
Singapore
Ambiguously the two exist as one,
Sustaining each other in harmony.
Fortuitously they come and they go,
Lost and found, they’re wrapped around.
Light with darkness; darkness with light,
The balance seen by the naked eye.
All things moving within their own orbit,
No directions are known in time and space.
Chaotically they dance in rhythm and rhyme,
Energetically they burst through all universes.
Cosmetically appealing from their first dimension,
Spreading their wings over all things.
Filling the void with a voice of reason,
The dragon breath that once gave life,
To the eggs of creation, the twins alike,
Carries forth the knowledge and wisdom.
Bequeathed of the faculty of
balanced return, of equilibrium,
turning the totem burn of caloric expectancy,
cause and effect
translating universal machine dialect
satellite positioning itself in the physics of
affection, affinity, sistered brotherhood in
reality check of relative fee.
Beneath the atmosphere, here,
clings one to another like faded dusk
to a pregnant dawn.
As he leaves, she returns, again
to meet him in circular run.
In Fibonacci launchpad portals of
action and reaction chained to loop again.
Chi and grace turns,- will and space.
Like a cog that swings the pendulum scale,
weighing relational phi in the window of pi?
Certainly in the window of possibility
where the harmonic scale is like two dragons
chasing each other's tales,
hooking claws into foothold of reality,
like a fitting piece of harmonic puzzle poetry.
There is no facade here, no illusion or trickery.
Science is poetry and poetry is the science
of the mind in artistry, intertwined.
Everything with potential, dependency.
Yin and Yang,
of the divine.
unsouled seem I as binary star
a twin forever separated in time
space holds ace yet cause and effect
must harvest its dues, no tasty stew
breathed as one by the One
masculine to ground feminine
to sky ~ high is low, mirroring sows
east ties west, four feet be blessed
hearts entwined for missions divine
dualistic artistic to be realistic
black with white etheric swirls
through aeons timelines twirled
union within is goal to achieve
like worker bees we do believe
yin-yang is Almighty's conceive
unsouled we weave to finally
c l e a v e ~
________________________
Honorable Winner Poem
Allpoetry Contest: Theme : unsouled
May 26
4/24/16
Yin and yang
Among any elements, and weather like wind and rain
It is and isn't strange
Things did and didn't change
There always shall be contrast
But there is so much more beyond that
Regardless if it seen as non-fact
And the wrong path
You can't turn any time on the clock back
Yes
Failure and success
Things may not coalesce
But nonetheless
Continue forth, and don't forget
It's all part of the trek
Whether it was forgotten or mentioned
Positive and negative consequences
Good and bad intentions
Answers and questions
In all directions
No fib
For her or him
There'll be losses and wins
For adults and kids
Until the end, and when it begins
By: Dalton Ogletree
I see them in reflections - the orange juice glass at breakfast or my iPhone where they can pop, like notifications - I keep my phone face down.
They usually want to tell you something - how it was for them - their history. I discount these emotional messages - they come with the jester's assumption that I care - that I need the performance and will get involved.
“What are you doing?” My mom asks, as I’m taking all the shiny, mirror-like ornaments off the Christmas tree.
“The glare gives me a headache” I say, without stopping.
“Your Grandma does that too”, she says, wiping her hands on a Santa-themed dish-towel.
“Really?” I say, but I know that and I know why.
I started having nightmares, when I was in first grade. My mom thought I had an overactive imagination but when she described it to my grandma, she soon showed up for a visit.
Over the next few weeks my Grandma told me about our “gift”. About how we were both born on the same day, under a waning third moon, in Autumn. That we're both “Yins,” doxies (sweethearts) of the dead and that we could, at times, see and hear people who were between stops on their way to their after-lives.
That’s why the dead parachute into my unused moments from reflective surfaces. They can be anxious or in despair - when their death is cruel or sudden but I'm an adolescent - I'm in school - what can I do??
The presence of water discourages them - which is perfect - can you imagine seeing spirits in the reflections of your bath? EEUUUWWW! You’ll hardly ever see me without a water bottle or polarized sunglasses - which seem to break-up the images. I'll not be smothered in other people's afterlives.
The yin and yang
Of heavy heart
Orange female tiger
Male azure dragon with spark
Jubilant jaded laugh
Inside jaundice jokes
One can follow one’s path
Face what lies ahead with hope
It cannot be helped
You must weather storm
Life isn’t always fair
Always be in true form
Let go and let God
Grannie sings with faith
Be sure to guard heart
Save for rainy day
Do you learn white wisdom
From elegant emerald elders
Are you led by mission
Experience of life a welder’s
Fire to flaming silver steel
Molding you into amethyst art
However you may fuchsia feel
For growth we need light and dark
A tsunami of black ash blankets half a world
Trash toadstool hoodoos, wastelandic pillage
and pollutant mucus ravishes lava villages
Draining is the amalgam mass at the end of the spectrum
Stone environs shock, unnatural landscapes
Polyethylene islands flushing the canvas
Carbon contaminant fumes flair in mid drift air
Virtually no place on Earth is free of the polymer fog
Foaming magma cascades over metallic mushroom roots
Spiny shoots sprout tentacles from rubber trees
Mercury and cadmium toxin leeches' groundwater
Above the quicksand are flying objects that pass as vultures
For a million magarican dollars I was greeted by a masked spacebot
Left on moonlit Luna's Lot are my collection of yin-yang art articles