Oh hungry vacuum cleaner, there you go—
Like magic, sucking up the grimy dirt
In my small world of carpets, floors, and walls.
You gobble up unwanted enemies
Of lint and dust polluting my domain,
And leave behind a sparkling atmosphere.
Oh hungry vacuum cleaner, if I could
Direct your force upon the total earth;
Suck up its cobwebbed corners—dusty paths
Which cloud our sights and discompose our minds;
Draw off the film to let clear colors show,
And make it shiny-bright as my small world.
November 2, 2014
Is This Love That I'm Feeling?
Kiss Me In The Beginning
Marry Me In My Revelation
Hold Me Tight
Let Our Hearts Sink In
I Will Not Let Go Until The World Ends
But Our World Won't End.
We Will Meet Again In Heavens Promised Land
You Are My Angel
Right When I Was About To Walk Out The Doors
God Brought You in
I Will Not Let Our New Paved Roads, Discompose & Come To A End
You Put Your Wings Around Me
I Know It's Real
I See Your Halo
I Know It's Real
If You Ever Told Me You Love Me
I Know It's Real
Born Again Are The Two Words That Can Describe How I Feel
Is This Love That I'm Felling?
-Let The Truth Be Revealed
He will make everything fabulous
Wait and see
He has a way of doing things
He knows what needs to be done first
And every step thereafter
He knows how to do things
Plan things and make things to come
We don’t even have to worry about the details of it
He is in control
Every minute second
He is on top of it
Don’t sweat, hyperventilate, exasperate
Irritate, gripe, aggravate
The Maker of this world is presiding
In charge
Why agonize, discompose, fret, nervous
While the Father has of hold on his making
God meant for us to enjoy things
Life and everything goes with it
Don’t be a grouch, a wreck, a grumbler
A troublemaker, a moaner, a nitpicker
God meant for you to be happy
Live life, sing a song, dance a storm
Make someone happy
Make yourself happy
Take delight in what you do
Take pleasure in what you accomplished
Be pleased
Get a kick out of things not called for, earned
Have a ball
Have fun
Live a little
God rules
It's a sudden rush for me, the ultimate high.
That my poetry is metaphorically like a Samurai.
The punctuations are deadly as my steel blades.
Death and poetry become a medley, so be afraid!
Like an acrobat, my sentences dance across the page.
My couplet's trained for combat, and my words are filled with rage.
I slice and dice spinning my blazing Katana!
It's not nice when winning can bite like a piranha.
I'm addicted to the push of my writing pen;
And I've been convicted of every past and present sin!
As I purge myself of every sin through my poetry;
I can't guarantee it won't happen again so accept an early apology!
So as the last couplet comes to a close, feel my energy.
I leave bodies to discompose, and their burial is my poetry!
Transparent smiles and fragile paper eyes
adorn a tender beauty, as a tear
of dew upon a rose in cool sunrise.
A sweet yet clear disguise of yearnings near,
secreted 'neath so tenuous a veil
that slight of breeze would surely discompose
and tear and crinkle. Milky shades of pale,
diaphanous, untrue (as truth’s cast shows),
serve only as a means of self deny,
a flimsy shield against a whispered voice
that sighs a threat to air life as a lie
and deliquesce remaining threads of choice...
except the choice to live, as such a breeze
undresses faintly covered dreams with ease.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.