Long Accommodates Poems
Long Accommodates Poems. Below are the most popular long Accommodates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accommodates poems by poem length and keyword.
March into her reformative room of wisdom
Where knowledge catapults to the threshold of your mind
Where Shakespeare and short stories in spoken English
Gives vibrant vocabulary over volumes of time
Her colorful classroom accommodates all levels
While your mental capacity is moved with motivation
It is a Catalyst for claiming certificates and medals
Like a sponge absorbing insightful information
Your books and brain will form beneficial bonds
From poetry to past participles, painted with your pen
Your termly evaluations and exam marks correspond
As your teacher tunes your talent over and over again
She does more than teach, she instills values and morals...
Empathy, compassion, tolerance and respect
From conflict resolution to resolving quarrels
She is ready to role model emotional intellect
On the sports field she is a callous coach
In the classroom she makes education exciting
She ensures you're filled with ambition as you approach
Your English class which is innovative and inviting
From dramatic irony to discursive essays
She'll teach diary entries and dramas in detention
Leave a memorable mark while teaching poetry and plays
As well as creative writing and comprehensions
While loving to learn, you will learn to love both
The language and the lessons where seeds are sewn
Her English exercises is an engine for growth
In her house of wisdom where knowledge is owned
Around my mind a linger of her existence plies, I'm evoked
An expression of joy my face accommodates, simply on this note
A thought of you causes my heart to skip a beat, beautiful like jazz
Not the voodoo though but I still feel locked up like I'm in Alcatraz
A good thing because it aids in appreciating your absence when I'm alone
Missing you hurts more than when I broke my clavicle bone
I love you too much to consciously inflict on you pain
Done it in the past but in His grace, never again
Maybe you the best thing that happened to me, maybe you not
Not to sound cheesy but to complete the rhyme, you are hot
Sometimes having you still seems kind of surreal
Want to experience with you the culture of Brazil
Like the sands of time, my love for you seems endless
Some of my dreams instigates we one day share address
You defined 'love' to me and redefined the essence of life
I'm convinced but I'd wait till time evinces you are my wife
From in our homes, we view the world
Through windows which reveal
The goings-on around us, which
Affects the way we feel.
The wealthy, in their mansions,
May see mountains or the sea,
Which so many of us think is where
We’d also like to be.
While lots of folk may gaze outside
At scenes of homes and trees,
The sight of which brings comfort,
Worthy of their landscape fees.
The urban dwellers’ windows,
Sometimes from a dazzling height,
Show the bustle of the city,
Which may offer much delight.
For the poorer ones among us,
If they have a view at all,
It may reinforce their sadness,
Staring at a shaft or wall.
Still, by gazing out the windows
That our home accommodates,
We can dream about what’s out there
And what future life awaits.
This is the good ship Dreamtime
And she sets sail every night
Weighing anchor for her cruise
With the fading of the light.
Her passengers are all dreaming
That they are all still awake
Suffering from insomnia and waiting
For the arrival of daybreak.
Her crew are all phantoms
Spirits of the sleeping brain
Watching carefully over
Those on this ethereal main.
There are screams and moans
And some of them quietly weep
As they journey through the night
None realising they are asleep.
She drops anchor to disembark
Just before breaking dawn
Transporting the travellers home
To their own bed early each morn.
Where they awake exhausted
For each of them still think
All through that long long night
They’ve not slept a single wink.
The good ship Dreamtime then
Fades quietly from their sight
Until the next dusk when She’ll
Reappear to cruise another night.
Every night She cruises
Answering their call
And no matter how many ask
She accommodates them all.
She is the good ship Dreamtime
Who, in her own special way,
Helps sleeping insomniacs turn
Each sleepless night into day.
Together at twilight,
Separated at dawn,
Two intertwined hearts,
Two souls lost in silence.
A bed embraces two at twilight,
As they journey into the unknown and unseen.
They arrive at dawn,
Sometimes before the first light,
Other times with the rising sun.
This bed accommodates individuals with differing dispositions;
Its size reflects their choice.
Their togetherness signifies a unity of purpose,
A testament to the strength of their bond.
Yet, a shared bed does not guarantee shared love,
As they wander through a wilting meadow.
What once glowed now casts a shadow,
A shared bed becomes a symphony of gloom.
The geometry of a shared bed does not nurture the garden of the heart.
Healthy robust meditation,
taught
in diverse schools of thought,
theological
through ecological,
biological,
psychological
sociological
and neurological,
begins with correct posture.
But, "correct" does not mean
only one orthodox way.
Correct
is more about medians
favoring balance,
centering practice
rather than evangelical means.
Correct
accommodates diversity,
cultural differences and deviations
and universal similarities
of humane bicameral consciousness.
Correct posture,
like correct theology
and correct understanding
of ecological relationship,
is about polyphonic correlation
and not monoculturing stagnation.
Yet, correct posture,
correct health care,
correct political and economic relationships,
are not merely subjective,
not barely "relative"
Any more or less than correct theories of relativity
are merely subjective,
chaotic,
degenerative,
entropic.
Rather, correct postures,
frames,
forms of discernment,
notice,
healthy curiosity,
good humor,
structure,
transparent networks,
resilient systems,
are correct
as they are in left/right
west/east
north/south
inside/outside
ego/eco balancing relationship,
noticing tipping points
Toward Yang's natural revolutions
in mountainous significant space
and Yin's spiritual evolutions
co-arising spiraling valleys of time
Where polypathic relationship
correctly resonates
polyphonic resilience.
Aves above, meadow below, secret catacomb
Scattered labyrinth accommodates as garland
Armour of thorns reborn as cordial yellow crown
Mother comfort apricot offers pleasures wafted
Mauve curled demure uncovered, velvet vortex
Birthday cake cream mingles fruit tingle hues
Morning crisp evaporation uplifts exulting heads
Flushed faces exhale, held in grateful hands
Nostalgia sends invite to nuptial rain haven
Doily draped tea table sips rosehip heavenly
29th April 2023
Contest: Rose Meadow
Sponsor: Julia Ward
You have to come with me, my cousin Slim said to me.
It’s an eight hour drive for me to Wisconsin.
I hate long drives, I reminded her.
It’s a haunted hotel though.
I am intrigued and snared in.
Can we drive at night?
She accommodates my request.
We sing camp songs of our youth
Eating Twinkies, cheese, crackers, and hotdogs
The hair stands up on my neck when we enter the hotel.
May I take your suitcase? An elderly gentleman asks me.
Can you see him? I hiss to my cousin.
She is talking to the night manager.
Ignoring me.
My cell phone rings.
Slim died? My son asks me.
No, he is right here, I tell him.
And you died? He yells.
We are right here! I tell him.
I cannot believe you are dead! He screams.
The phone goes dead.
We are in the right place, Slim says.
I have no words.
R-emember the day,
O-ne event I won't forget;
D-ay when you were born,
R-ight here on our planet.
I-'ll still remember the day,
G-azing at the wide blue sky;
O-ne lane accommodates the birds that chirp and fly so high.
P-ray to remember the day,
O-ne request to the Lord;
M-ay He give you long life
A-s you follow His word.
R-ise to remember the day,
C-alling upon God's name;
A-s you wake up from bed, the sun starts to burn his flame.
S-eventeenth morn in July,
A-llow me to remember the day;
L-et me pen a cram rhyme,
A-nd send it to you all the way.
Z-ealously I complete my work,
A-ll the lines I want to say;
R-eady in real time I gladly post, for I always remember the day.
The fields, barns, and farms,
the dirt roads that seem to go nowhere,
all these are familiar.
The map of this part of Ohio
is engraved like blood vessels
crisscrossing his brain.
He’s an interloper, but all the same
knows these roads and has no need
to find one way or another.
All this journeys details
fit like jigsaw fragments
into a subliminal atlas.
He drives a mindscape,
one copied from a known reality,
hands and eyes free
to keep him from the unexpected,
but there will be no unexpected.
This is a world without
traffic or people to move it along.
The grazing cows and horses
may be at the far end of their fields
or near the road fence, but
the mind accommodates
these minor moving chess pieces.
A pebbled parking lot,
a Farmers Market.
He has a magical shopping list
that has written itself
as the tires turned the miles over.
Now he crosses between
one elapsing mindscape to another,
a place where he must linger
as a stranger once more.