Best Languish Poems
The main purpose of life is to live rightly, think rightly, act rightly. The soul must languish when we give all our thought to the body.
Mahatma Gandhi
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Winter is a suitable time to savor,
Silent, quite starving for, my only flavor.
Quiet seclusion enhances my languish,
Providing pause, meditation, and favor.
Frozen days of chilly nip raise my anguish,
Apply comfy sheets, light for cold to vanquish.
A dreadful bulk of cloud and a brisk breeze,
Inspire sloth in a book respite, prankish.
Beautifully arching shrubs and trees,
A ballet of nature's dreams and appease.
White feathers tumble to the soil below,
As sapphire shines, emerald first wheeze.
Fumes in chimneys coil, merge, and grow,
I burn a recollection as shadows undergo.
Crystal-clear river, frozen pearls, pristine,
Wind gusts at dusk in a cold stream flow.
It's peaceful in my heart and serene,
And mesmerized by the gorgeous scene.
Calm and eased by the stark lightness.
Winter is when I languish, purify, and shrine.
Indigo optimism overlays placid rightness,
Potent nature pride ethereal brightness.
A lovely mix of purple haze made it lighter,
Insignia aesthetic—only ebbing politeness.
Bestow him the means to bloom
Set free his captive heart,
From the dangers of wilt
From the perils of guilt,
Hardened heart traps,
Rotted soul snares
Troubled eye glares
He shall believe in your beauty
Setting fires to your infinity
He toils and turns to you
Bestow her the means to bloom
Prove to her the sure science of Love
Give her reason to return in your arms
Hold her to your story
Voice the untold allegory
From the fate of death,
Quench her eyes with
Blessed beams of divinity
She will reassure your doubts
What remains cannot break her
The torrents of turbulence are ceaseless
The nights of woe are sacred and ageless
You are endless in them alone
You are complete in them together
A collaboration with David W. Breidenthal
“Every wall that would entrap me has a door that would free me. And I languish because the fear of freedom often leaves me preferring the familiarity of the wall.” Craig D. Lounsbrough
I'm languishing in self-pity
My cat is lost in the city
Grieving for my itty bitty
Missing kitty Missing kitty
Again, I find myself alone
Nobody calls me on the phone
Weeping for loved ones I have known
Fate, I bemoan Fate, I bemoan
A poet languishes each time
He seems to be bereft of rhyme
Unable to write poems, sublime
It is a crime It is a crime
Artists languish in mortal fear
that their paintings will bring a tear
Like Van Gogh who lobbed off an ear
End of career End of career
Who has not languished in despair
pining over things hard to bear
Anguish reveals how much we care
Heartache beware Heartache beware
Languish in your beauty
Enjoy honest delights
Wowing people is not done
Easily by others.
Lucky thing you are a rose
The main purpose of life is to live rightly, think rightly, act rightly. The soul must languish when we give all our thought to the body.
By Mahatma Gandhi
Sheer sneaking swallowing my sigh, sooty sky, unaware,
The lion's might had dwindled to that of a little mouse.
Vibes can be outspoken, yet fate is tying me in despair.
Everything in my universe revolves around my house.
Once I had insight, dark languid dashes shed no light.
Once I had hope, but a haze of hankering hides my sight.
Once I had the birthright, yet a black beam binds blight.
I shed my inner tears while feeling a sense of peace.
We pray every night that the slaughter will cease.
We yell as the world spins, and sanity is a flimsy fleece.
We yell as worry claws its way up the mask we wear.
Fearful of a skewed worldview and warped brain douse.
Yet, we might be asleep if the world were to end tonight.
If crisis slips, the dove may put his bill to lock a lease.
2nd place contest winner
Written: March 14, 2023
Writing Challenge - 'L' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
This poem form is the Fragmented Rhyme invented and Conceived by Constance La France. It has 14 lines with indentation, and a rhyme scheme, as follows: ABABCCCDDDABCD
“Three, 300, or 3,000 - these are the number of unknown days, each far too little and yet too much at the same time, to see an irrevocably declined loved one languish and suffer, with that bittersweet release lingering in the doorway, but never quite being sent all the way in, to comfort and carry our loved one to that Better Place.”? Connie Kerbs
Laughter – her sweet laughter – has gone away.
As she leaves our space, I wonder why she sometimes gets this way.
Nothing can we do for her then, unfortunately.
Growing numb, she distances herself from family.
Unrelenting for some days is she with apathy and gloom.
In utter listlessness, she stays up in her room.
Somehow she snaps out of it - though it may take a while.
Happy we become again to see our dear teen daughter smile!
March 15, 2023
For the Writing Challenge 'L' Words
By Constance La France
(The Song of Solomon 7: 10-13)
Oh Languish Not, My Love … My Love, Oh Languish Not
For I Bring The Nourishment of The Nectar You Forgot
Oh My Love, Languish Not … Languish Not My Love
& You Will Taste The Sweet Fluid-Juice & Pulpy-Fruit Thereof
For The Pleasure of A Garden
Passion-Rose For You Still Grows
And I Will Keep You Replete
Within Its Tantalizing-Throes
With Touches, So Translucent & Tender
Oh My Love – I Will Fill You
With Every Delicacy On Desire’s Trays
I Will Bear This Gift & Thrill You
For Here Is The Banquet of Red Wine Kisses
& Lips Breathing Sweetly Close
Oh Feast Your Eyes On & Eat The Offered
Trust & Flesh & Heart of Me Exposed
Oh Languish Not, My Love … My Love, Oh Languish Not
& With My Tongue, I’ll Help You Drink Each Delicious Drop
Oh My Love, Languish Not … Oh Languish Not, My Love
& Feast On My Attention But Starved For Affection We’ll Shove
Oh Languish Not, My Love … My Love, Oh Languish Not
For I Will Soothe & Strengthen Any Waiting & Weak Spot
Oh My Love, Languish Not … Languish Not My Love
For I Fill & Feel Your Form – As Do Hand To Glove
Oh Languish Not, My Love … My Love, Oh Languish Not
For Here Is The Heated Honey of Our Fondue &Flame Pot
Oh My Love, Languish Not … Oh Languish Not, My Love
… Now Come Feed & Take Your Fill – ‘Til You Have Tasted Enough
Written & ©: 7/2/2013
By: The MoonBee
the surprising thing is not
that every man has his price
but just how low it is
Quote By Napoleon Bonaparte
searching under stones
curious what the worms have
holes become the norm
stay there a little too long
and you will envy the worms
“She that hath borne seven languisheth: she hath given up the ghost; her sun is gone down while it was yet day: she hath been ashamed and confounded: and the residue of them will I deliver to the sword before their enemies, saith the LORD.” Jeremiah 15:9 of the King James Bible
Languish not, oh my soul, in depths of loneliness
Lean on the Lord, welcoming by His love
Leading you toward victorious leaps.
Languish not, oh my heart, along deceit and lies
Learn from God with His truth of light
Liberating you by His vibrant laws.
Languish not, oh my faith, toward failure’s lingering
Listen to the Saviour’s Word, indeed lively
Lifting you up against commitment-lull.
Languish not, oh my devotion, upon care that’s lukewarm
Level-up toward service zeal and reaching-out loftiness
Let Christ lengthen your patience-line.
Languish not, oh my strength, on bed of losses
Loosen up against restless lamentation midst God’s Lamb
Luxuriate with the “Lion of Judah” with divine laugh.
Languish not, oh my spirit, in destitute so lowly
Leave hopelessness and gloom lurking
Look to the Almighty and joyously live.
November 8, 2023
Dramatic Monologue in alliteration
1st place, "NO 1257 NEW POEM ONLY" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 11/13/2023.
2nd place "Labyrinthine, Languish, Letter Words" Poetry Writing Contest Chosen Word: Languish; Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 11/9/2023.
A little bee flew across the sea, to see what he could be
He herd a giraffe with a throaty laugh : still continued on his weigh
This pour we bee had too pee so he stopped on a Specific Ocean Eyelid
It took him severed ours to pollinated Pollynesian flours and than he flue away
If Yew can reed this rite yore a better POET then Eye
My heart has these many dwellings
such dead cold cautionary tales
long disregarded and condemned.
And then there is this secret palace
eclipsing all true loves desolation
where deep resides your essence.
A rapture of all your many graces
this mansion of your many riches
this residence of many memories.
And then there is your portrait it
hangs formidably in the great hall
duchess over all these dominions.
Oh how grand is this stellar view
how lovely in its awesome repose
mute witness to all my sad despair.
My heart has these many dwellings
but to only one loving abode do I go
to one haven where I will always be.
Portrait of all my heart’s affections
my desperate insanity’s sweet relief
where I will yet languish evermore.
Your glance follows my every step
as smoky embers hotly choke me
as I tend to sorrow’s dying flames.
I die willingly over and over again.
entombing myself so I may forever
remain in these hallowed silent halls.
(click on the pic to buy my poetry book!)
“New love is a fresh breeze, but when it leaves unexpectedly,
it knocks the wind right out of you.” By author of this poem
Languish
Now sick from love, I languish here,
and rarely do I leave my bed.
I never thought a simple tear
that for that guy I’d ever shed.
He wore me down with charming ease.
Now sick from love, I languish here
recalling how like a fresh breeze
it felt when I saw him appear.
He broke right through my private sphere
that I’d been guarding with such care.
Now sick from love, I languish here.
How could he also bring despair?
First love and joy he brought to me.
I took his sweet words as sincere.
His leaving I did not foresee.
Now sick from love, I languish here.
Languish In My Anguish
Noticed that my patience did languish,
And my emotions were full of anguish;
Weary worn;
Full of scorn,
Not achieving what I can accomplish.
Jim Horn
4999
In dark for a long time we have been, Waiting for Jesus to come back again; At end of tunnel is a glowing light, That is such a pretty sight, Becoming a radiant beam, So it did seem, And to all of my delight Christ in form of Santa will be here tonight.
Jim Horn
Before the ink was drying,
Trump was already falsifying.
Sound familiar.
Association with some people I did annul
After trying to get through their thick skull
What my each poem was meant to be
My thoughts understood by you and me.
Things should always be simple and plain
When you are standing out in the rain
If you fool around for a while and fret
Pages are hard to read that may be wet
Leave all the rain and go back inside
And will find yourself quite satisfied
When by warm fire my poems are read
And later will find yourself in bed.
Like I do too you will often dream
With thoughts from God who is supreme
Then next day when dawn did break
Mind will seem like an enormous earthquake
Ran into man cave and wrote poems down
While face was smiling not wearing a frown
And now no longer at all had any anguish
In love of my Lord poems liked to languish
In languish sleep, so went her fate
through loveless marriage, mired in hate.
Soft-spoken words that now chastise
his world, of stranger’s scents and spies;
gold, traded for some silverplate.
Just once forbidden fruit she ate
her endless strangled passions sate
she made this bed on which she lies
in languish sleep.
Suspicions she dared not set straight
this is a world she did create;
where every little word implies;
one now where she averts her eyes
and lives where love and guilt conflate
in languish sleep.