Amazing Nature Photos

Long Poem Topics

Check out these short poem topics. Find short poems by topic or form.

abortion absence
abuse addiction
adventure africa
age allah
allegory allusion
america analogy
angel anger
angst animal
anniversary anti bullying
anxiety appreciation
april arabic
art assonance
aubade august
autumn baby
bangla baptism
baseball basketball
beach beautiful
beauty bereavement
best friend betrayal
bible bio
bird birth
birthday black african american
blessing blue
boat body
books boxing day
boy boyfriend
break up bridal shower
brother bullying
business butterfly
cancer candy
car care
career caregiving
cat celebration
celebrity change
chanukah character
cheer up chicago
child child abuse
childhood children
chocolate christian
christmas cinco de mayo
cinderella city
class clothes
color columbus day
community computer
confidence conflict
confusion cool
corruption courage
cousin cowboy
crazy creation
crush cry
culture cute love
dad daffodils
dance dark
daughter day
death death of a friend
december dedication
deep depression
desire destiny
devotion discrimination
divorce dog
dream drink
drug earth
earth day easter
education emo
emotions encouraging
endurance engagement
england environment
epic eulogy
eve evil
fairy faith
family fantasy
farewell farm
fashion father
father daughter father son
fathers day fear
february feelings
film fire
firework first love
fish fishing
flower flying
food football
for children for her
for him for kids
forgiveness freedom
french friend
friendship fruit
fun funeral
funny funny love
future games
garden gender
giggle girl
girlfriend giving
god golf
good friday good morning
good night goodbye
gospel gothic
graduate graduation
grandchild granddaughter
grandfather grandmother
grandparents grandson
grave green
grief growing up
growth guitar
hair halloween
happiness happy
happy birthday hate
health heart
heartbreak heartbroken
heaven hello
hero high school
hilarious hindi
hip hop history
hockey holiday
holocaust home
homework hope
horror horse
house how i feel
howl humanity
humor humorous
hurt husband
hyperbole i am
i love you i miss you
identity image
imagery imagination
immigration independence day
innocence insect
inspiration inspirational
integrity international
internet introspection
ireland irony
islamic january
jealousy jesus
jewish jobs
journey joy
judgement july
june kid
kindergarten kiss
language leadership
leaving life
light little sister
london loneliness
lonely longing
loss lost
lost love love
love hurts lust
lyric magic
malayalam marathi
march marriage
math may
me meaningful
memorial day memory
men mental illness
mentor metaphor
middle school military
miracle mirror
miss you missing
missing you mom
money moon
morning mother
mother daughter mother son
mothers day motivation
mountains moving on
mum murder
muse music
my child my children
mystery myth
mythology name
native american natural disasters
nature new year
new years day new york
nice niece
night nonsense
nostalgia november
nursery rhyme obituary
ocean october
old onomatopoeia
pain paradise
parents paris
parody pashto
passion patriotic
peace people
perspective pets
philosophy places
planet poems
poetess poetry
poets political
pollution poverty
power prayer
prejudice preschool
presidents day pride
princess prison
proposal psychological
purple quinceanera
race racism
rain rainbow
rainforest rap
raven recovery from
red relationship
religion religious
remember remembrance day
repetition retirement
riddle rights
river romance
romantic rose
roses are red rude
sad sad love
satire scary
school science
science fiction sea
seasons self
senses sensual
september sexy
sick silence
silly silver
simile simple
sin sister
sky slam
slavery sleep
smart smile
snow soccer
social society
softball soldier
solitude sometimes
son song
sorrow sorry
soulmate sound
space spanish
spiritual spoken word
sports spring
star stars
storm strength
stress student
success suicide
summer sun
sunset sunshine
surreal sweet
symbolism sympathy
tamil teacher
teachers day technology
teen teenage
thank you thanks
thanksgiving thanksgiving day
tiger time
today together
travel tree
tribute true love
trust truth
universe uplifting
urban urdu
usa vacation
valentines day vanity
veterans day violence
visionary vogon
voice volleyball
voyage war
water weather
wedding wife
wind wine
winter wisdom
woman women
word play words
work world
world war i world war ii
write writing
yellow youth

Long Senses Poems

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

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Tom Quigley | Details |

Aspie

1—Milieu

Unique construction of body and mind
My niche in human pack not quickly found 
Raw young heart of a curious design
The empty mirrors for my soul abound

Subjectively a bit odd to myself
A jangled, disconnected kind of sense
You’d really have to feel it for yourself
Bare toes in rougher grass, my side of fence

Surrounded by like minds, we all assume
This world of beings whose outsides look like ours
Belonging, my soul’s dream bound straight for doom
As if I’d flown a rocketship from Mars

I turn my back, but yet still feel their grins
At times it seems a penance for past sins

2—Hairshirt

At times, it seems a penance for past sins
This hairshirt of discomfort I have worn 
Beneath my skin, wool sweater’s itch within
As if my past lives’ sins remain unshorn

My senses prone to overload, expend
Just like my mind, to peace they must return
A t-shirt tag could bother me no end
Yet bloodied elbows would escape concern

Vast sea of neon lights, eyes howling bright
My skull reverberates with common sound
A thousand Vegas strips eclipse my sight
Exquisite dullness, daggers soft abound

Bright deluge, hard sensations’ stormy squall 
At times, my soul would fade into the wall

3—Fledgling 

At times, my soul would fade into the wall
When I could not march to their beating drum
Fictitious rules apparent to them all
Ignored by most, my fate, hated by some

My heart is scalded, social asper-steam
Within me builds a silent asper-scream
The years of clumsy efforts don’t redeem
Relief, a frothing mug of aspercreme

I try to find the beat I cannot plumb
Although my overloaded senses hum
The human presence looms, I seek the numb
A frenzied fumble for my aspergum

The fairy tails I chased once seemed unmatched
To grow up in a dreamy world detached

4—Sinking 

To grow up in a dreamy world detached
Illusions and delusions spread their wings
Again, again, my boyhood dreams were dashed
Stray child in charge of life, no good will bring 

The poisoned rain did fail to bring relief
To run and hide within was my great lie
A deepened torrent, dark implosive grief
All sorrow that’s submerged is magnified

The spirit’s life for which I’d never reached
Until the fateful day, my first real prayer
Strong hallowed reed my drowning arm beseeched
Through desperation’s gift, my soul did dare

From darkness did my vagrant soul break free
Becoming the man I’m supposed to be

5—Integration

Becoming the man I’m supposed to be
A task not as straightforward as it sounds
The years drew mantle of success to me
Yet still my larger clan could not be found

My social self I’d tried to disavow
So often did I wish these needs would die
But luck, this curse my fate would not allow
Through many trials, my error rate so high

Within this maze, the rat had found no cheese
So weary now of feeling out of place
Their foreignness cannot be grasped with ease
Where are my people? I don’t see a trace

In this soul, vital difference would it make
For all the years I’d spent perfecting fake

6—Tribe

For all the years I’d spent perfecting fake
My heart, in large part, cowered underground
To ape the things that never could be mine
To be my own self seemed a risk profound

Occasions bring more friends across the rift
In parts and pieces, forming near a whole
A rare woman who can accept my gifts
Our small tribe hatched with love and kindred soul

At forty, I learned how to read a face
Such basic things with which you’re all endowed 
My common sense uncommon, but my place
Becoming solid in my micro-crowd

Great challenge finding home where my heart sits
To figure out with my unaided wits

7—Of Understanding and Diagnosis

To figure out with my unaided wits
Awareness blossomed when I first did see 
 “Non-neurotypical,” whatever its
true meaning, doubtless it referred to me

Atypical, the wires under my skin
Atypical, my needs for contact too
Atypical, the fires that burn within
Atypical, these seeds my life imbued

Despite the careful wording in their books
The shrinks disparage us, their words betray 
The path I find innate, it just might look
Compared to you, pervasively delayed

The Others you don’t get are not Unclean
Some scientists draw parallels between

8—Neanderthal Dream

Some scientists draw parallels between
Neanderthals and Asperger’s today
How ancient cavemen’s lives just might have been
The features, mind and body, seem to say:

Creative loners who seek their own place
Extinct, though hiding somewhere in our genes
An ancient mind lurks just behind my face
It seems we’re born to live in worlds between

Neanderthal projected forward, I’m
A lone wolf among pack dogs, number prime 
In step and tune to my unique heart’s rhyme
A living museum piece who’s lost in time

This unexpected journey helped me find
Unique construction of body and mind

8/6/16
© Thomas W. Quigley

Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Beverly Pippin | Details |

Ramen Noodles

:) now this is what Im talking bout .... nothin iz 2 uncommon when all you got 2 eat iz Ramen 
noodles 4 all y'all poodles
 seahorse sonar struggle with senses 
far beyond the realm 
of more than just whats common coinsidences
 crusade 2 overwhelm 
overcomin the fear2 pursuade
 Dominate prominiscent pre made 
cascade undelayed
 Just played it safe 4rum ur Fake-Aid 
you D grade 
ain't tasty Kool-aid 
sweet sugar serenade
 Your gunna need more than just a band-aid 
to fix whats tha matter with brain sprayed splatter
 Greater than or equal to straight trade
 Not wanting to leave wish I culd have stayed
 Don't we all....
 facade to fall..
 winter spring shoreline stahl 
nothin iz 2 uncommon 
when all you got 2 eat iz Ramen 
noodles 4 all y'all poodles
 seahorse sonar struggle with senses 
far beyond the realm 
of more than just whats common coinsidences 
crusade 2 overwhelm 
overcomin the fear2 pursuade..
 Dominate prominscent cascade undelayed
 Just played it safe frum your Fake-aid take to fade
 Greater than or equal to straight trade
 Gotta get paid 

         Warmth blanketing the bitter cold 
cUm•BU•lOnImBUs clouds 
forecast percipatation pretold
 Warning massive ThunderStorm for the following Counties prepare to unfold 
Dis pissed off cloud is about to take off a load 
head off road 
And all you'll hear is rain falling in ode
 Kroak of a toad
 strikeof lighting bright N bold 
then counting the miles in mississippis gold 
till thunder explode
 Under protection of this roof 
behind these shudders
 Stricken sight candle lit light 
rain drainsN2all gutters
 Impaled beneath the moons clutters of the night

 :) now this is what Im talking bout ......
    nothin iz 2 uncommon
 when all you got 2 eat iz Ramen 
noodles 4 all y'all poodles
 seahorse sonar struggle with senses 
far beyond the realm 
of more than just whats common coinsidences
 crusade 2 overwhelm 
overcomin the fear2 pursuade.....
 ruby emerald sapphire diamond jade 
none of which fade
 Frum your fake aid 
fake lime to make lemonade
 Over time meat marinade
 For a stroll in the park serenade 
don't wanna leave wish I culd of stayed
 
Sonic is constantly tailed by a flying fox 
Speedyblue Hedgehog
 with a sack of magicalblue rox 
lookin to take down dat evil Dr Robotnox
 Impressing Goldie-locks 
Millionmile per hour hydraulics 
Off to replace the aftermath shocks
 Magneticly control the hands on all clocks
 To turn twist and rewind back waisted time
 Carry out foward to take what iz mine
 Insanity is 2 insane as Criminal is 2 crime
 Witherin to the weather then wetter 
is 2 whether 5150 if not 4 the better
 It is 4 the cheddar 

:) now this is what Im talking bout ....
 nothin iz 2 uncommon 
when all you got 2 eat iz Ramen 
noodles 4 all y'all poodles
 seahorse sonar struggle with senses
 far beyond the realm 
of more than just whats common coinsidences
 crusade 2 overwhelm 
overcomin the fear2 pursuade
 Dominate prominiscent pre made 
cascade undelayed
 Just played it safe 4rum ur Fake-Aid 
you D grade 
ain't tasty Kool-aid 
sweet sugar serenade
 Your gunna need more than just a band-aid 
to fix whats tha matter with brain sprayed splatter
 Greater than or equal to straight trade
 Not wanting to leave wish I culd have stayed
 Don't we all....
 facade to fall..
 winter spring shoreline stahl 
nothin iz 2 uncommon
 when all you got 2 eat iz Ramen
 noodles 4 all y'all poodles
 seahorse sonar struggle with senses
 far beyond the realm 
of more than just whats common coinsidences
 crusade 2 overwhelm 
overcomin the fear2 pursuade..
 Dominate prominscent cascade undelayed
 Just played it safe frum your
 Fake-aid take to fade
 Greater than or equal to straight trade
 Gotta get paid 

:) now this is what Im talking bout ......
    nothin iz 2 uncommon 
when all you got 2 eat iz Ramen
 noodles 4 all y'all poodles
 seahorse sonar struggle with senses
 far beyond the realm 
of more than just whats common coinsidences
 crusade 2 overwhelm 
overcomin the fear2 pursuade.....
 ruby emerald sapphire diamond jade 
none of which fade
 Frum your fake aid fake lime to make lemonade
 Over time meat marinade
 For a stroll in the park serenade 
don't wanna leave wish I culd of stayed
 
:) now this is what Im talking bout ....
 nothin iz 2 uncommon 
when all you got 2 eat iz Ramen
 noodles 4 all y'all poodles

Copyright © Beverly Pippin | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

The Doctor Is A Dead Man Walking

Bob had a special talent
That only worked in his men’s store.
He had ‘clothing ESP’.
He knew what his customers wanted…and more.

When customer would come into his store
Bob would invariably say, 
“Hello. I'm Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

And he was always right,
Never missed a color, fabric, style or size.
He even knew the necessary alterations.
Customers couldn’t believe their ears and eyes.

Meanwhile, in another part of town,
Joe had a pounding, relentless migraine
For every minute for more than five years,
It had driven him near insane.

He’d lost his job to the pain.
Then, he lost his wife.
He had lost a lot of weight and rarely slept.
Yes, his was a miserable life.

And, of course,  sex was out of the question…
Even a little self-abuse.
There was nothing left for Joe but pain.
He felt his life was of no use.

So, Joe went to his doctor.
“Doc, please help me end this pain.
Give me something to make me sleep
And never wake up again.”

“You know I can’t assist your suicide.”,
Then he looked sad, perhaps ashamed.
“I never dreamed it would last five years,
But I know how to end the pain.”

“You can make it go away?!
Tell me, Doc!  What’s the word?”
“I’ll have to remove your testicles.”
Was the last thing that Joe heard.

But…when he came to, it struck him.
Sex was out of the question anyway;
But he might enjoy his meals again,
And he could sleep for days.

“Please check me in, Doc.
This opportunity I cannot shirk.”
So, the doctor removed his testicles.
He did his very best work.

A few days later, Joe waddled along,
Headache free and feeling pretty nice;
But every attractive woman he saw 
Reminded him of his sacrifice.

He decided it was appropriate
To do something nice for himself for a change.
So, he went into a travel agency;
And a six month cruise he arranged.

As he left the travel agency,
He was excited, feeling ready to go;
But for such a glorious adventure,
He would need new clothes.

As he walked along, he saw Bob’s Men's Store.
He walked in, only to hear Bob say,
“Hello.  I’m Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

“How could you know?” asked Joe.
“It’s a gift.  I don’t know how, but I do.
You’ve suffered five years with an ailment,
Found relief, so now you’re taking a cruise.” 

Joe could not believe his ears.
How could this stranger possibly know?
"You're right! That's amazing!
And I'm going to need new clothes." 

Bob then laid out a fabulous wardrobe
All the right colors, fabrics, styles…and each size.
Joe was incredibly impressed.
He could hardly believe his ears and eyes.

“How do you like the wardrobe?”
“It’s wonderful!”  Bob could see that Joe was pleased.
“Now,” said Bob, “What about undergarments;
You know…shorts and tees?

Let’s see…medium crew neck tees, all cotton.
I believe that you prefer white….
And jockey shorts, all cotton…. 34s.
Yes, I'm sure that’s right.”

Joe beamed, “You’re an amazing talent
And I just this second realized,
You've laid out this entire wardrobe
And only missed one size.”

Bob, surprised by his mistake, asked, “Really?
What did I miss?  I did my best for you.”
“Well…you’re right.” said Joe, “I do wear Jockeys,
But…well…I wear 32s.

“Oh, no!” said Bob with an ugly grimace.
“That would be a serious mistake.
Thirty-twos will cramp your balls, 
You’ll get migraine headaches.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details |

Light On the Devil's Chord - Day 10

“Clap your terrible wings, vivacious serpent of old!
Imagine my plight as dangerous as your spite,
Stomp your clawed feet on these prison floors,
Peace shall always follow the sink of your fangs…”

Silenced were the wailing demons round,
Crouched low alongside such a soaring and broad master
His wings widening, the blood electric veins chaotically pulsing
Warring dementedly and desperately to frantic flight
He thrust such cruel chords masterfully,
Loud and empty as shrills from precipitous caverns
Cracking the walls against such terrible music
My hair rose as if full body deep in water
His mouth muttered obscenities faster than one could follow,
His big, slanted coal eyes burning into my readied soul, 
Always searching for the weaker spot in which to flood his reign
Nostrils flaring, taking in the scent of fears within and about
Bottomless and portentous, his voice slowed into dreadful clarity:

“Unknown beknowest now, my imagination thickens,
Blood boiling, waking all senses into terror
Darkest valor enshrouds, eyes deadened by countless carnage
Lividly I say to you, walk amongst my brethren,
Marvel at the depth of demeaning in these eyes
Let us prophesy, oh Daughter of Light, 
I demand you to prophesy! 
Prefigure the longing in which this terrible King dreams
How my sovereign splendor circulates the tears,
The agonizing pain—a maelstrom of my impending delight
Naughty nymphs dragging their victims cheerfully into the fray 
The pull of its power grows as the victims of my stew concentrate
The steams of their trapped screams ascending into the air,
Your loving eyes cannot take such despair
The might and mangle of their entanglement,
Hypnotic in their ailing end!”

Drums, distant, though fatally deafening,
Thrummed with the vociferous laughter of our Prince
Humanoid insects released from the black shafts,
His pupils spewing their buzzing and screaming
The streams of human-like insects swarming about me,
Their teeth sharp as dogs’ chops after freshly grinding bones
Salivating and searching,
Chomping and chattering in a wild whir,
Mixing into the massive maelstrom 


Thicker and darker as it grew,
As his wings shaped its engulfing mouth upon me,
My voice rang through the shrieks and moans,
Surrounding the chanting demons,
Passing through the susceptible ears of the Devil, 
And into the humongous mass of black
The light beamed bright, searing through the gush of agonies
And his eyes widened with excitement at the merge of our song

Parting the maelstrom into two separate halves,
My voice materialized in blue-green rays into the center of his storm
Shadows of ghouls and angels battling in dances and determined movement
Silhouettes of great leviathan creatures revealed hidden mouths of wonder
Roaring in rage and seduced in the gravity of melody
As our duet submerged in the strangest of harmonies
Together:

“I see you, 
Lights and shadows enamored by our strengths,
I know you,
As far as these hot winds do blow in this pit,
Stinging and singing us to blissful bits
Effigies entwine the surviving divine,
Blackening, savaging the light so tight
I feel you,
Eschewing the hearts into our vengeful amalgamation 
So that they dance and fight as one, by one…”

My arms rising to sustain the light,
His lips curled into confused, strained delight

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by richard nnoli | Details |

The mask behind the smiles

the Mask behind the smiles
Why am I so sensitive 
Could it be blamed on my mother 
Could it be blamed on my father 
Or 
Could it be blamed on nature 
Oh please tell me why too many smiles shared 
Yet too many smiles 
never comes real 

The Mack's behind the smiles
I wonder how the victims of wars
Smiles with the pains on their shoulders
I wonder how the women raped
Smiles in pain after torture 
I wonder who see those Mask
Behind the smiles 
Behind the smiles of the father morning his lost son to an evil war
Behind the smiles of the young girl 
Sold to sex slavery 
I don't know what smiles 
They could better give 
If not that from the evil scars
Behind that faces of smiles
lies an unknown motive from it heart 
Only the brave smiles beyond the 
Pain he bears 
For a lot I see as I ask 

Why am I sensitive 
Could it be blamed on my mother 
Could it be blamed on my father 
Or 
Could it be blamed on nature 
Oh please tell me why too many smiles shared 
Yet too many smiles 
Never comes real 

The Mack's behind the smiles
Basic free life now a debt 
Paid with a lost 
Lost of the mind now invoke 
So now  fear reigns on too many faces
As The skeleton in the cupboard 
Behind our Smiles is so avoided to let known
Now I wonder why I see too many smiles 
Now I wonder why I sense to see those Mask
Behind this too many smiles
As well I ask 

Why am I so sensitive
Could it be blamed on my mother 
Could it be blamed on my father 
Or 
Could it be blamed on nature 
Oh please tell me why too many smiles shared 
Yet too many smiles 
Never comes real 

The Mask  behind the smiles 
Smiles are every where 
On too many faces 
On the face that wears the smiles 
The heart Knows betters it worth 
Only from a free heart 
Come a true smile
I tell you no lie 
So how can this free heart be 
With this scars of ignorance 
And circumstances like a wall in between 
Is Like we got no other option 
So I wonder how many hearts 
Are free with these smiles everywhere 
As I ask 

Why am I so sensitive 
Could be blamed on my mother 
Could be blamed on my father 
Or 
Could be blamed on nature 
Oh please tell me why too many 
Smiles shared 
Yet too many smiles 
Never comes real 

The Mask behind the smiles 
The good the bad smiles 
Worst of it all the greedy 
Smiles a lot too
So I got confuse with smiles 
The killer the victor
Smiles 
Even the victims smiles too
So you see all smiles with it Mask
Every where 
If only you could see beyond 
Beyond that face 
If only you could see beyond 
Beyond those eyes 
Am sure you ask with me 
As I ask 

Why am I so sensitive 
Could it be blamed on my mother 
Could it be blamed on my father 
Or 
Could it be blamed on nature 
Oh please tell me why too many smiles shared 
Yet too many smiles 
Never comes real .

Copyright © richard nnoli | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by T Wignesan | Details |

Unquotable quotes: Dancers - XXIII

Unquotabe quotes: Dancers - XXIII

Dance like Cassius Clay, Sting like Muhammad Ali.
The dancing Dervish’s ethereal trip makes the Sufi’s Qawwali breathlessness sound like the radio-astral waves dashing on the beaches of their consciousness.
The only unlicensed dance free of feet is that of the honeysuckle moth’s at the dying of the day.
Would a Ginger Rogers marry a Fred Astaire if he didn’t have a pair of electric flying feet?
The Hindu temple dancers are little virgins offered by their silly parents seeking religious merit as a sacrifice to their gods in order that priests may loan them out to those who can pay to fill the temple coffers.
Astro-physics traces the movements of astral bodies through the Dance of Siva (one of the Hindu Trinity of the Godhead Brahman).
The difference between a professional dancer and an amateur is that the former legitimately makes every effort to project that part of the anatomy which we are accustomed to concealing while the latter is hard put not to make the effort.
The dancer’s raison d’être is to serve the voyeur through twists and turns.
Even (s)he who dances for joy must be seen to be thought coy.
Disco dancing is aught but coïtus interruptus.
Dance all your troubles away so long as you can make it back even on one leg limping all the way.
The ballet dancer is one who is always on the verge of taking off either by spinning on his/her toes or by floating on his/her hefty thighs whereas the flamenco artist and the tap dancer are continually trying to drive herself/himself underground.
The trouble with watching classical Indian dance meant to communicate epic anecdotes and mythical dallying of the gods by making the body - eyes, fingers, limbs and body postures  - speak renders the performances intelligible mainly to the deaf and mute.
Dancing to the beat of the tom-toms develops the paps from puberty.
Dancing with tomahawks in hands before going on the war-path develops the biceps for splitting heads.
Dancing by jumping up and down and swaying in a mass to the blaring beat of the rock-n-rollers develops an acute sense of gradual deafness to the meaning of unheard words.
Dancing in disco joints with blinking psychedelic forms in variegated colours can induce in some epileptic reactions while others simulate these contortions wide awake on the floor.
Dancing to the jog of thudding beer mugs on wooden logs and stamping trooper boots develops the art of the clash of battering rams.
Dancing to the sweep and lilt of waltzes on smooth ballroom floors develops the art of sweating elegantly under gowns and mufti.
Dirty dancing like salsa is hard-core porn turned to art.
He who has never danced to abandon has never broken out of the walls of his prison.
 

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016










Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Dennis East | Details |

My Amazing Scense Of Smell

Considering the size of it, you'd never think it thus;
It's a rather small and turned-up job - a nose without much fuss.
Now a sense of smell is something that we all just take as read,
But mine has ancient extras up these holes stuck in my head.
Seems my beak is ultra-sensitive; I smell things very quickly,
And I first became aware of this through pongs that I found sickly.

The inherent problems with this gift, I uncovered as a lad,
Is I felt inclined to ‘early warn’ when I smelt something bad.
It made me proud, on outset, of a skill that I could claim,
But instead of worthy accolade, got invariably the blame.
Then the adage, ‘smelt it dealt it’ was immediately applied
To this poor innocent 'non-farting' boy that hardly ever lied.

Well, I quickly learned to deal with this, and kept things to myself;
Except for smoke, and nasty things, that might affect my health.
Then, as an interesting refinement, I detected one thing more;
That my sense could be selective; it could choose who to ignore.
After thinking hard for many years, I’ve declared the skill a throwback
To the days when we all lived in caves and our toilet was the outback.
You see, the ability to differentiate detects a visit from a stranger,
So filtration of one's family meant, you literally ‘smelt danger’.

Another trait this strange sense brought near nailed me to the floor;
It was as I learned the facts of life, and confused me even more.
I was strangely drawn to older girls, whose smell appealed at once,
But with them came a second scent I detected once a month.
Seemed that every time I settled down with one girl in my life,
My selective nose would mask her out, but the rest would all run rife.

And while we speak of odours, here's a fact that I must tell,
That not all perfumes you can buy are to me the sweetest smell.
As some bright sparks thought pheromones the answer to girls’ prayers,
But for me it has adverse effects and keeps my thoughts ‘downstairs’.
It's supposed to trap men through their nose, by animal sex appeal,
And it may well work for certain chaps more easily brought to heel.
But for those of us, I know be few, in tune with nature’s guide,
We’d likely choose to steer away and find a place to hide.

Now, I’m pleased to say the gene has passed on to my eldest child
And just like me she smells it all, from sweetness to defiled,
But unlike me she lets all know that nasty smells are banned,
As she’ll soon ID the culprit of a fragrance if unplanned.
Her siblings have got used to her and pay her great respect,
As they know it’s not just bad stuff that their sister can detect.
She’s known to sniff out chocolate cake and hand it out with glee.
I’m so pleased she’s got this special gift - that could only come from me.

Copyright © Dennis East | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by San Woo | Details |

SPRING YOUR LIFE

SPRING YOUR LIFE

Arise and shine as the sun’s smile!
Breathe in the day and be radiant!
This wakening so short a while,
must not go waste, say the sapient.
Be as one with mother nature,
your sensual moments do nurture.
Daily miracles that abound,
desire you to be spellbound.
So drink deep, forget chilly gloom.
Live lushly in beauties new found….
Spring your life as blossoms abloom.

Immerse in the moment and wile,
with the birds and flowers salient.
Scents and aromas do beguile,
inhale of the freesias gallant.
Life is a very brief rapture!
Whiff upon the breeze and capture,
the seconds as the petals round,
delicately drop to the ground,
soft swept by the swift silent broom,
gently passing without a sound…..
Spring your life as blossoms abloom.

Tarry when you walk a long mile,
in touch with the most omniscient,
the branches all dressed in style,
woods swaying with wind resplendent.
Seek within this short adventure,
sights to fill your eyes with pleasure.
To see them, your spirit will found,
enlightenment that will resound.
Gaze on this most beauteous bloom,
into a bit of the most profound….
Spring your life as blossoms abloom!

Haste along with the solar dial.
Feel the heat that is inherent,
awakening atoms docile,
with energies not indifferent.
Warmth absorbed into such grandeur,
reaching high for heaven's stature.
All this is to surely astound.
Sleep not! That would be most unsound!
Not catching the best of life's groom,
rather like a ship, run aground.
Spring your life as blossoms abloom.

Taste from the sweetest green vial,
Honey and fruit descendent,
from flowers' commune eternal.
Bees buzz as bright birds dependent,
Savor nectar - pollen aperture.
Kisses divine for the future!
Love is rife, encircling around,
fully its songs echoes rebound,
now, is its loudest beating boom.
Laugh with the birds merry and bound!
Spring your life as blossoms abloom.

Time is infinite's tale renowned.
Waits never, so as not to confound.
For as the minutes ever zoom,
None will escape or run unbound….
Spring your life as blossoms abloom!

(Spring's chant royale with carpe diems galore; written 2/14/2016)

Reposting for Skat A's contest.

Copyright © San Woo | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Terrance Upham | Details |

Physique of unique

Slicing & dicing the 
fabric of time.
Contorting & distorting 
functionality to reality.

My unique physique poetic 
swagger broadcasting
Elegance in resilience
Relevant to intelligence. 

Rewinding the two hands of time 
with a wicked new rhyme 
elements from the middle of 
my mind's brilliance.

 Forming an alliance my cancer 
like rhymes eating pathetic tales. 

Transversing syllables relevant 
today's reality relativity 
transparent in tomorrow's rhymes.

Elegance of futuristic conceptual 
designs foretelling of a 
mythic spilling inks prisms 
of brilliance.

Custom made rewinding the second 
hand in future's time complex designs. 
Figerning the reality custom of 
my relevance.

Broadcasting inks elements of 
intelligence substance of
 my brilliance.

Achieve power while I scour & devour 
Axis of power with easy 
access to relax & tax. 

Rhymes in prisms of colorful brilliance. 
Futuristic line's concepts staggering time's
crooked pace. 

The elegance of life's
wicked scripts double flipping through
sands of every grain in time. 

Squaring an comparing impaired 
line's in rhythm of elegant to relevant 
My ink spills powerful images
Stalking provocative mind's
broadcasting abstract crimes 
      sleek designs
Of my custom line's .

Unique of poetic swagger
staggering the crooked
pace in life's elegant
race. 

Spilling prisms of colorful
brilliance element of resilience
relevance to intelligence. 

Father of abstract line's future's
era in time of complex designs
in diversity of a university's
Unique physique of my poetic 
swagger.

Brilliant line's concepts furthering 
time with a wicked rhyme 
sleek elegant designs. 

Eccentric line's elegance of 
european designs premier
           twin in line's 
               luxury. 

Unique complexities a diversity 
of simplicity in dynamic ranges. 

Relevance to intelligence sleek
elegance of times relevant to 
broadcasting worldwide premier.

Elegance of my line's custom 
prisms spilling brilliance
 not revealing
Intellectual beauty's. 

Unique facet of every design
foretelling future's greater time's. 
Dynamic elements in unique.

The physique of poetic swagger
sharp double edged dagger.
Staggering a poetic pace
the elegance of life's wicked race.

 Stalking provocative mind's 
with the father of abstract crimes.
My cancer like rhymes eating
pathetic fairy tales.
My word's wale
an impale compared to 
    Harvard & Yale
 tasting stale as I prevail.

?U N I V € R S € ?
 {INT€R CONN€T€D}
    °O ? N S € £ F°
Pen's Broadcasting Premier
     21st century's Poet
#intellectualproperty
    #reserved#
        £?V €
?#poet #poetry 
#WickedRomancer

Copyright © Terrance Upham | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Trisha Sugarek | Details |

Fragrance of Life

Fragrance of Life  ©

Cool rain drums on blistering 
asphalt, the scent streams into 
the nostrils--hot, grassy smell of 
summer, freshly cut-smoky 
cedar lingers on the air 

Fresh popcorn drenched in 
butter, I sit in the dark, musty 
movie house. Childhood 
memories of Tom Mix dashing 
across the screen 

A breath, deep of rain-damp wool, 
heady peat of whiskey 
neat. Old butt-imprinted leather 
and the dusty, pulpy smell of a 
well thumbed book as the page 
is turned 

 
The mule drawn plow turns the 
rich, boggy earth beneath an 
autumn sky. With luck and some 
rain the larder is full at harvest 
time 

Wrapped in strong arms, nose 
pressed to warm skin smelling of 
soap and outdoors. Drinking the 
heat in with the smell of the 
man, your man 

Sweet puppy breath. Pure 
doggy conviction that you will 
love him as much as he loves 
you 

 
Candles and incense in the 
great cathedral… the heart fills 
with faith, hope, and 
expectation 

Soft curls, sweet skin, the babe 
squirms closer… powdery 
newness, innocence, and trust

Briny, sharp tang of the northern 
sea. Balmy, yielding, essence 
under the Southern Cross 

Green aftertaste, fishy decay 
and salty fresh scent of the 
clean-swept beach 
 
Sultry air twines itself through the 
Quarter, crushed sugar, wet 
pavement, yeasty bouquet of 
hot beignet. Warm beer, 
praline sweet, heady grape 

Old river water slugs along 

Stifling, coppery smell of blood 
be it the battle field, hospital, 
crime scene, butcher shop, or 

birthing room… 
Cloys In the nostrils sticks in the 
back of the throat like old 
mucus 

 
Icy sweetness of winter air, 
frigid sting of snow to come… 
sharp pine tantalizes the senses, 
as harsh breath smokes the air 


Steaming manure in fresh straw, 
roasted peanuts, pink spun 
sugary sweet… 
the pungent animals stalk the 
cage. Sawdust under old 
canvas glows like old gold in a 
shaft of sun light. 
The Big Top! 
Childhood rushes back 


The smell of her on your 
mustache… you don’t want to 
wash your face… lose the 
heady scent of her love 

 
New trees struggle to rise above 
a sea of old petroleum. 
Pine sol lies still on the cold tiles, 
stale baloney on old bread. 
Rancid tired clothes reek of 
cheap cologne
The truck belches halitosis 

Move on down the highway 


Sharp fall gusts through the 
quaking aspen, 
pitchy sap barks in the 
crackling fire, 
snowy air assaults the senses 

The loon sings, warming the 
heart. 

Trisha Sugarek
Butterflies and Bullets

Copyright © Trisha Sugarek | Year Posted 2014

Long Poems