Long Accrues Poems
Long Accrues Poems. Below are the most popular long Accrues by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accrues poems by poem length and keyword.
sharing a slice of pizza
sharing our dreams like a butterscotch milkshake
all out of napkins
bathroom paper towels as a substitute
waterfront booth vibe
barry manilow made it through the rain again
air supply is always all out of love
christopher cross does the best he can do
we prefer blessing the rains down in africa with toto
this is how we....come out of the closet and free ourselves if you will
what color....rear window definition
we just don't give a damn tonight
we are just enjoying being honest in that free spirited sort of way
we pay in starbucks....moonlight feels right as happily blow it all sky high as if we just complete the most difficult jigsaw puzzle
how long has this been going on....for as long as an ace accrues
being that we are both the adventurous types, lets take an elongated joyride via the chicago transit authority and colour each other's world....with pleasure....of each other's company
Immortal land awakes through dusk and dawn
Beneath ceiling spun sugar and midnight blue.
Winds breath trill of tiny song accrues through
ardent woodlands, rivers, and natures gentle fawns.
6/22/2019
Poetry Contest: Arbitrium Divisa 2'
Sponsored By: Gregory R Barden
Nature will go on no matter what It will evolve
Immortal land awakes through dusk and dawn
Beneath ceiling spun sugar and midnight blue.
Wind's breath trill of tiny song accrues through
ardent woodlands, rivers, and natures gentle fawns.
Tears of life stream with allure and glamor
Dreams grow draping over nature's life in each
Branches newly bereft of leaves, tips reach
Gilded sunrise bonding souls and laughter
Ocean's emotion echoes deep shifting realm
Its grace untouchable in its deepest depth
As it attains its greatest heavens breadth
ancient secrets adhered on coral helm
3/15/2017
Be there the bight of a November drain
turned off tattered ruffles blotted feign
a ledged I removed and tender earlobes
waif yonder spectral possession probes
cracked nut overture eighteenth twelve
emptied shells retiring indicative delve
drain feign earlobes probes twelve delve
the hour,
Penchant dragged scrape innard depth
souring blindly binds ruse lids breadth
spar sun astir, causation its wandering
scar bites of frost attend a clouded ring
constant errs my inner chambers abide
pivotal piques tricked darkening inside
depth breadth spar scar abide inside
the hour,
A vast plague of vulture flights accrues
a lowly sill contempt its stay construes
awake dreamt feverishly reposed body
quake aloof save I some valued nobody
unsorted escort disembodied but feats
wonder maroon beheld tethering beats
accrues construes awake quake feats beats
the hour,
Therefore I'd wallowed jousting to free
of peals of laughter trifle trailing spree
feeble villagers thoughtless each share
of riddled backside amidst tabled stare
and counters gossip whispers consume
be their claim graphic God they assume
free spree share stare consume assume
the hour,
Remains of a last supper disrobed hang
amidst bunker migrating seasons pang
yond trained reflect stories trail facials
a negging crowded calls milds a rituals
saved I a memoir cloistered singularity
paved upon silken weaves a familiarity
hang pang facials rituals saved paved
the hour,
Bewitched canons riddled yon the altar
stacking of hymnals liberates Gibraltar
of liquefied gift cascading gratification
love stain pigments of my imagination
hues meld a silencing orchestrate suite
enhance the loyal thunder ne'er retreat
altar Gibraltar of love suite retreat
the hour.
“Hush the blush oh hermit, why needless rush ~
Shift from head to heart, let love and light gush”
- quote by poet
How may ultimate truth to us be known
Heart intuits truth transcends lower mind
We’re living light, this form is but soul’s clone
Bemused by desires, to God’s light we’re blind
Thus cravings of ego must be declined
Let us oh worthy monk, begin anew
Choosing love over lust, become refined
All concepts we held thus far, are untrue
We each must walk the pathless path alone
Awareness self-aware, in peace reclined
In tranquil silence, our sins we atone
Leaving all imagined knowing behind
Declutching soul from wayward ego’s bind
That childlike heart pure, like fresh morning dew
Transforms as living light, loving and kind
All concepts we held thus far, are untrue
As vaporised Self comes into its own
Day and night, with bliss magnetism entwined
We delight at our heart lotus full grown
Furrows of love and light on its stem splined
Effusing scents that cannot be defined
Coo of God’s love that continues to woo
Grace that accrues when we’re divine aligned
All concepts we held thus far, are untrue
Playing our life role on earth as assigned
With each breath reborn, we make our debut
We see God within heart, firmly enshrined
All concepts we held thus far, are untrue
A rickety old chair sits in a corner of our house…it’s a chair no one can fit in.
Which begs the question why hold onto a chair we never intend to sit in.
If you asked I’d tell you, “That old chair, the one in the corner you’re looking at…
Deborah’s dad made it with his own hands…we can’t get rid of that.
Our house is filled with children’s books…books we definitely no longer need.
Which begs the question why have so many books we no longer intend to read.
If you asked I’d tell you a secret…one every parent knows
They were all books we read to our children and our grandchildren…
we can’t get rid of those.
We have our share of knick-knacks…on which only dust accrues…
Which begs the question…why have so many objects we never intend to use?
If you asked I’d tell you…and I’m sure that Deborah agrees…
Every object reminds us of someone, some time…some place…
we can’t get rid of these.
By now it must be obvious…I believe my point…I’ve proved
The reason we can’t throw these things away
is they’re all too heavy to move.
Not too heavy physically….for we can lift them all with ease…
What makes them difficult to throw away…
are the weight of their memories.
Rhapsody of rainbow
morphs into morose mélange
of shredded exuberance,
bleeding colors
bleached from collapsed cloud
of twilight zone
embroidered by sunset spectrum,
profoundly permeate
as ingrained blemish
the lilac lattice
of the broken heart,
the sordid shades of blue
paint the linen of love,
f r a y e d....
Requiem of longing roses
resonates tragic melody
in melancholic medley,
wilting petals pine
for forlorn feelings,
the dripping tear drops
of mourning dew
on failing floral luster
desiccate in somber sunshine
of the deserted mind,
fading flowers make
weathered wreath
for decedent passion,
o b s c u r e....
Convergent cacophony
accrues relentless
in the entropic cauldron
of disharmonic music,
bemused chaotic symphony
dismantles incoherent
on discordant waves of refrain,
captured in
strained smiles,
sneering the inane scenario
of lonely life,
where sanguine songs turn
into nonsensical noise,
echoed by reflective soul,
a r c a n e....
Leitmotif of life
seen skeptically
through indolent cynic lens
of distorted essence,
magnifies manifold
into crooked contortion
of convoluted conscience,
a b e r r a n t....
I came where warmth had learnt to outlast flame,
Not by ascent, but by remaining near;
The vapour lifted, paused, then forgot my name,
As steam does—faithful only to the air.
The vessel bore the grammar of long hands:
Its rim worn thin by wrists that came and went.
One palm approached—then checked itself—no bans,
Just habit pausing into judgment spent.
This broth had practised patience twenty years;
I counted weeks—my age still learning weight.
Here time was tasted, not arranged in tiers:
What lingered longest proved itself most late.
A spoon mislaid its purpose in the air;
A line was read, misread, then left to cool.
My verse—still breathing—entered unaware,
Not finished, yet not asked to finish rule.
No sound accused the moment into law;
A nod occurred—small, private, easily missed.
Someone revised the word final with a drawl,
Then doubted even that, as cooks insist.
Thus sense accrues the way a broth turns dense:
By not insisting, by remaining there.
The carrot softens into acquiescence;
The onion learns the virtue of delay.
I broke my line—
it did not ask for pardon.
Not strong enough to prove, nor weak to flee;
It stayed, the way a bowl stays warm in kitchens
After the reason’s gone, but heat agrees.
So this—if names must be endured—is home:
Poetry Soup said softly, once, and set aside.
I ate among the old, unknown, unshown,
And found that belonging does not arrive—
it remains.
Happy You There
Holidays awe - That tine of year,
“you'll break – open your favorite bottle...
of Cheer, soooo...
“Spirits high – you may want to fly”
or...
just Hop on into your own air-O-plane,
“You're just going insane”
For a flight, off to visit whom or whoever...
Dah is not so near – though Oh!...
Yes..
They may flip out, should you arrive this year...
a wild crazy year or a teardrop here also there
though some joy you bring, to share...
“Not – to – fear, cause you will be full of cheer!
Just in time to make it back safely once again,
to see another “Great New Year comin' in”
Waiting nay, “You're popin' a top, of another...
favorite bottle of champagne, or be it soother,
like...
Rum, Vodka, Brandy, Scotch, or Gin...
You also others will holler-out on number #1 with...
your Cheer's, jumpin' high, clack your heels-together,
When this wacky thought accrues too, you,
Oh – My! Oh-Dear! My but Great Scot-cch...
( as it kicks in) Really! On (Time)?
Will I Do This, all over, again then next...
Happy New Year??
Penuriousness long did acquaint
yours truly, who feels loath
to lodge complaint
regarding series of unfortunate events
(Lemony Snicket be damned)
imposed monetary constraint,
now aghast with horror
(ain't no trick),
I unwittingly did faint,
only negative indebted interest accrues,
now if ever mister money bags I haint,
no gainsay purposelessness
to air principal plaint,
yet to fulfill personal daily quota
regarding poem writing
subliminally eases restraint
prompting good samaritan
deeds subsequent anointed saint
homelessness looms around
the corner crimping psyche
argh mental health depressed
courtesy poverty doth taint.
Seriously folks (especially Bugs Bunny),
I best coon sitter
turning over new leaf versus "fake"
gilded pretense success and posthumous
famous author doth leave me awake
nsync courtesy restless leg syndrome
shakes bed (lamb - spouse) like earthquake,
whereby thwack with her elbow
finds broken rib cage, when thus spake
Zarathustra bidding me to branch off
and leave writing... say kickstart
panhandling as faux grubstake
with global warming...
formerly deeply buried
untold bajillion dollars free,
for taking, thus best not forsake
golden, silver, bronze... opportunity
analogously swimming within monied lake,
or accumulate stash tall as Taj Mahal
and/or Trump Tower livingsocial footloose
and fancy free gourmandizing
till I resemble Mar-a-lago sized beefcake
recklessly splurging penny wise
and pound foolish
proudly arrogantly boasting
what cutthroat tactics can accomplish,
hmm... perhaps contemplating
on whim purchasing Greenland
for a song (infringing,
extracting, bilking... copyrights) swish
goes signature scribble to abolish
purposeless law meant as hedge
to sideline ruthless machiavellian brash
art of the deal done courtesy genius
eh... so what if the global
financial market doth crash, viz fillet of fish?
You read in the papers you watch on the news
Coalition soldiers amidst as the killing accrues
In these theatres of war we lose many lives
In these wars of man only death thrives
But every so often there's a turn for the good
A life is saved they couldn't do what they could
The lives of a family murdered by cowards
Shot in cold blood bullets they showered
But from this tragedy a life was saved
It's of a little girl and a soldier who braved
A Chief Master Sergeant in the USAF
Allows mans humanity to kindly show face
This little girl who was saved was shot in the head
He stayed by her side for she should have been dead
To see pictures like this in the theatres of war
Maybe it's understandable to see what we fight for
An alleged soldier in wanton family wipe
What takes a soldier to become their type
My heart goes out to this little girl
And all the other children caught up in this war ridden world
Written on the spur of the moment after receiving a picture from Sara Kendrick
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-4.php