Best Elongation Poems


Larks

The tangled sadness of souls lost 
Between Heaven and Earth, 
Eternally on their way, 
Lifting upwards, 
Soaring, 
Climbing. 
Only to feel the ground’s pull, 
The unseen ropes. 
Trapped in intermediation. 

They have left us without leaving, 
Departed without arriving, 
No sweet Lethe for them, 
No afterlife among ethereal 
Beauties bathed in eternal light, 
No rest in a perfect balance, 
Outside the toss of seasons. 

So this is purgatory, 
This hell of a half-way house. 
Stretched out in an 
Agony of elongation, 
We can sometimes see them 
In the wriggle of smoke 
In striated clouds. 
They are the larks, perhaps, 
That dive into the sky and climb 
Climb 
Climb 
Until their frightened tiny frantic panic 
Sends them spiralling down 
Down 
Down 

To the thin air over the cruel stubble 
Of dead wheat.
© Paul James  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Age of Elvis

His black shadow forever in elongation-
Still thrills the fans to adoration!
Yet with power to enthrall,
He walks the vacant hall.

The road cuts sharply to the west-
But, the music already has progressed.
In the sunset days, we feel warm rays;
His memory's alive when the music plays!

Spans two dimensions-the future-the past;
Hardly it seems an age has passed.
Rapidly was breathed the word "Legend."
At times legend's without end.

But, how wild it all seemed-
When the women fainted and the girls screamed!
Yeah, shook up is what we were...
When he set the world astir.

His life was brief, intense.
His shadow is immense.
And despite the date of the calendar,
Can't dream it's over...

Protestang

Didn't you not go to me?

How did I seethe, because an elongation of an entanglement is the alter-alto as the Omega cake..?

So swimmingly
I'm finishing the date,

I'm even allowed to procreate,

say that today as we all wander in the phase,
the glistening light is a connector of the ways...


48 equations away... 

One more long lasting stay,

I am trapping the animals and characterizing,

you upped the anti with troubling enrapturing!

You even trampled the past in THE!!!

Sometimes I sweat over the gloat and the capturing,

sometimes I'm the boat that is rafting the very temperament I haven't opportunely been the camp in the.


Traces

TRACES...

A faint footstep left behind since my birth
And a thousand years later, I found so clear
A burning vision from the flames of wailing hearts
A drum-beat, a bull-horn sound, a clap
A music of realities dorn, this hour...

... somewhere this day...
I live to see it clear, my footsteps; so clear
From within the mirages I foresee a future
So my hearts' wish now is the sun's dawn
So I sing the lost rythm "Hail Thee Son's Afrikana"

At long last! oh what a day....
For the sun's blesses upon my heard
Times' testimony to my thirsts
For what we lost long ago, wailing as losts......
Traces of our footsteps yonder the dark clouds

Today is a merry day
For traces recoverred
For ideas emancipated
For the shackles clang of freedom
Worthy for none than the stocks* liberated now.

Human conciousness, human liberation
Spiritual Rediscoveries, soul cleansing
Races fostering bonds, lands-boundaries collapses
Hungers eradication, lives elongation
When the accordions laugh, as the twilights blazes.
 

(c) Lamptey Godson K. 2012

Funny How We Are Here

funny how we are here
naked and laughing at the fact that we once loathed each other
the kicker is people think we still cannot stand the sight of each other
now look at us....licking and loving each other down like crazed maniacs

funny how we are here
man how we used to go at it face to face and nose to nose
the fire that we made could have burned down a whole city without blinking
now look at us....giving in the the fire in our eyes for each other....in secret

funny how we are here
air conditioner on and all shiny from the steamy lovesweat
there was a time when the only lying we would do is to our respective friends to get away from the other
now look at us....not wanting to go and wishing for the night to last longer

funny how we are here
shower running and seductively teasing each other for the purpose of elongation 
thinking back, the only water we experienced from each other was the spittle from the other when we were cussing each other out
now look at us....expressing vulgarities in the name of love....
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

Hard Work, Clean Air, and Gentle Blessings

HARD WORK, CLEAN AIR, AND GENTLE BLESSINGS

hot cocoa and cinnamon buns
lemon drop cookies and honey butter biscuits 
Christmas sugar cookies and an oceanfront view
my dreams came true with you....so unexpected
looking at the baby bear Christmas Tree with a smile
watching Home By Christmas while wrapping presents on the floor
anti eggnog oreo shake from the blender and an oceanfront view
my dreams came true with you....so undetected
the mistletoe is teasing us
we think she plotted with cupid
we kiss and travel to the realms of elongation....not caring if we are looking stupid
we are in our own Zonule of Heaven....always free....never entrapped
we Bless the Heaven for Patience and Virtue....always unified....never detached
we then breathe easier....again being pulled in by the oceanfront view
my dreams came true with you....no longer blue
excited, we both jump up....to stir and serve the homemade crock pot beef stew
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.


Prematal

This is the Simplest alibi of this timeless magnum Opus, that I am not the capital
This is a point of exclamation in me, that I am not the majestic warrior
eternal.
Only one hope is remaining there, and up she goes, in round and round
I will be there, with you, to the farthest, along a shore of life, predestined.

In a lonely lit-up night, an enchanted one, the midnight hymn came as mine
My beloved, your face had the bliss of a smile line, my chime.
In one unbearable moon-lit day, when the solar lamp dimmed low
I knocked at your door, there
Weaving some knick knack, words sounding pretty, I yearned for you.
My love, where art thou?

I’m the center. You are my encircled bohemian, the only eternal , staying there that remains!
I’m the empire in your submerging love, an entropy ruling in me, all that fall short in sense!
I’m the center. You are my encircled bohemian, the only eternal , staying there that remains!
I’m the empire in your submerging love, an entropy ruling in me, all that fall short in sense!

Love, an endless epic for poets, wandering swiftly through the reigning gypsy times.
For no good reason, a blister in a scorching hot sandy dune, then a sleepy oasis chimes. 
I thought that I’m an exception there, a loner , far from the madding crowd. 
Too cuddly a love, only a mannerism, words are often playing there, as it could. 

Why are you that smile at me that rules me often on the full swing whim?
Why are you that sweet poem on a versed phone call, in words of a brim?

Today, you’re a enchained latitude in my gaze, too long a brushstroke in my palette
I am a helpless frozen teardrop there, brittled.

I’m the center. You are my encircled bohemian, the only eternal , staying there that remains!
I’m the empire in your submerging love, an entropy ruling in me, all that fall short in sense!
I reached the domain of stardom, from the Jupiter to the saturn
A nomadic I, traveler through your passion of love, in  high, a mere elongation. Expression.
I’m the center. You are my encircled bohemian, the only eternal , staying there that remains!
I’m the empire in your submerging love, an entropy ruling in me, all that fall short in sense!

Death Knell

In the light of my days-
Tears appears;
But tis yet dark,
My heart is black.

My mind trembles-
For the thoughts of rubbles;
Eon of sleep-not in mind,
A moment in the night-not it kind.

In the light we celebrate his cries,
In the dark we mourn his silence.
His presence we stand to miss,
But his absence we live to hiss.

For his peace-we travel,
As beneath our stage is his level.
To a swift journey-nature adds its woes,
A company of debris to once standing edifices.

An elongation of night to the sleeping prince,
And a job of escort to the mourners.

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© Craig Sipe  Create an image from this poem.

The Last Supper Upper Supper

Rumination.
Too long an elongation
Oblivion
Too easy a high five to see in freedom, in scope of Pentagon
The eternal fire, chest of drawer and homeland security
Almost a climax toward  Bermuda triangle
A selfless supplication in the third act
Without writing how will you find meaning too , through abstraction?
I am an assonance
To odd a pain
In revision of torn pages
To forecast pills of nine
Will there be any benign?
To tell a tale , to cast a forecast 
Gaze, maze, in audacity of courage
I love you, your heart beats in mine
I rub you, I feel your overcoat, the woolen layers
And I tell you, softly
Upper supper, look me in to the eyes
Familiarize a face
You have to give a speech
For a lost butterfly
On the twenty first floor 
Of the tower.
“Did you say tailgating?” The question came
I replied, to do rely, almost a reply’s try,
A point of no return, I love you in supreme time
But how will I describe my rumination?
In odds of your twenty years
And ninth of mine?

April 21, 2023

Where I Come From

Where I Come From


Where I come from;
Hills roll like giants walking
misty, like they are smoking
Baobab tree is up-side-down
its twigs zany like of a clown.

Where I come from;
Fathers become fathers
when it is time to be fathers
Mothers remain true mothers
falling not in love with brothers.

Where I come from;
Children remain lovely children
until they are mature in the ken-
As kids sleep with mothers
they don't bed own mothers!

Where I come from;
Rivers still flow full spat
Nature fawns on hearts like a cat.
We owe it to the woods and hills
not choking civilisation bills.

Where I come from;
We are a progeny of warriors
that break adversity barriers
With a sordid velvet punch
from a sombre Olive Branch!

Where I come from:
Women are genuine women
and, adults don't play children
When dazed with beauty
They take full responsibility.

Where I come from;
We walk or crawl bare feet
in order to skulk so discreet
And ignite the heart beat in Soil
to vibrate with Love's toil.

Where I come from;
We sleep on the bare floor
where there is no locked door
to fawn on Nature's heart beat
or mother Nature's thigh heat.

Where I come from;
We dance when we are happy,
we sing when we are angry
We cry when in rupture
or under ecstasy's capture!

Where I come from;
We are a people who dream
dreams like an endless stream
A dream of love and beauty
dream of cornucopia in Eternity.

Where I come from;
People are cool and quiet
and true, they are quite right!
If you force them to talk
They will force you to walk!

Where I come from;
Girls shun bras that are tight
breasts may pierce them alright!
Men don't impede organ elongation
by underwear strangulation!

This is where I com from!


27th Sept' 2013

Pssssssssssst

Hey let me holla at you to alleviate your frustration
Stand still it will only take a moment of your attention
Look, I hear your cries but I don’t want any explanation
I just wanna be fair and clear in my summation:

What I was in love with was your presentation
Because you never showed me your true intention
Stoned, amazed, but I’m not hurt by the realization
Part of me have long foresee your treason

You think I got played, but here is your failed realization:
We were both playing the game of love and devotion.
I will be lying to admit any tear of desperation
Seeing your true color has brought me liberation

Hey! I should have never lower my expectation
Wasting time going through all this commotion
When you spent all your time throwing accusation
While I was going through the process of elimination.

So sad that your betrayal did not evoke any emotion
I guess you were never worth my time and attention
Can’t help that you were never the object of my fascination
It’s not my fault you never knew how to keep my admiration

Now that is over you wanna write me a dissertation
Crying, begging, and blaming all the creation
But it’s too late! You should’ve learned life’s biggest lesson:
Never ever let go of the brightest star in a constellation.

No more talking. I’m over your desecration
This is the end there is no need for elongation
Letting go have brought me to a new exhilaration
Free at last! You’re a past chapter closed without hesitation.

Encapsulation Versus Elaboration

Encapsulation Versus Elaboration...

Therefore, I opted to
reduce heavy sedation
within unsuspecting reader rabbit
summarization superseded elaboration,
less reason spurring salacious secretion
i.e. a-z expletive epithet, et cetera laced

verbalization crucifixion subsequently,
neither nameless nincompoop (me)
crossing verboten drive,
nor this ditto anonymous
poetic purveyor to burden heavy
onlookers with elegiac colluding bugaboo

even daunting grizzly Adams,
endeavoring exclusively exercising
"E" valuation in futile attempt
to express mild exuberance
entailing English language.

Essentially erudition wrought
elucubration, ecstatic emotion,
enunciation, enumeration, eradication
narrowly avoiding writer's block
concomitent ebullition, emasculation
exacerbation, exasperation,

stepped up escalation elevation
malignant hypertension, encrustation
elementary (my dear Watson)
extemporaneous embarkation
severely affected non exlax induced
emergency enema evacuation,

but not even for the grace of dog
unstoppable elimination, ejection...
exhausting excavation
water closet expedition
elucidation, elation, edification,
vis a vis emancipation,

despite literary emaciation malnutrition
near extinction yours truly,
nonetheless... faint eruption
eureka ejaculation elongation
emanation awoke new edition
regarding neigh saying kid on the block

elicitation, elocution, energization,
eroticization, estimation, excitation
activated skeletal echolocation
eye opening entrepreneurial effectuation
analogous TVA electrification,
hence enervation equalization

relieved self cannibalization
thankfully discouraging envenomization
invariably in conclusion,
no exaggeration pronouncing
exemption verdict against
my extirpation sore disappointment!

Premium Member Rhythm And Blues

The cymbals create,
A mesmerizing sound
Reaching their brass highs
I sit listening to the blues come alive.

The music is guiding me,
Reminding me of sounds and sights
We've infused our vibes, our lives
In our tune's beat, making it sound all right!

I stroll down the streets, 
I can hear the Musicians Nine
They're blowing into their tin horns 
Enticing everyone around them to listen.

Tiny Foster is there:
Effortlessly strumming on his cords
Making enchanting melodies on his
Beat-nick guitar; he records.

People are passionately sitting,
They started reciting in their poetries
Speaking their lines in rhythmic rhymes
Talking in verse, laying out some lines.

Representing themselves profoundly with articulations,
In the beauty of prose, it was best that I mention
An atmosphere that leads on for hours, contemplations
You can get lost in it if you give in to an elongation.

Point of Black

Black, empty, cold and dark
What are you then if not a spark
Of life exists in you,
You pointless mass of infinity?

I don’t see you, yet I have thee in my sights
From some accretion disk or otherwise
Like a churning cauldron from some distant past.
My blood freezes in its paths

When I think of you, and your cruel existence
How you are void of all empathy,vice and insistence
To spaghettiize unwitting partners as in motion 
To capture them in a last gasp of elongation

You, you alone of all creation
are the most intense on my imagination
to look too close would surely be 
the very end of …. Me.
©Darrell Goddard

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