Long Adjoining Poems
Long Adjoining Poems. Below are the most popular long Adjoining by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Adjoining poems by poem length and keyword.
It is always there,
never quite within range
where the mind can snare
some shadowy form, or shape
an outline and hold it long enough
to name.
It waits for the sun to go down
and the evening to draw in
like a taken breath when it comes
closer and nestles into what warmth
lingers there under the folds
of a gathered dark.
Sometimes when I am off
elsewhere and far away in thought,
I am sure it slips inside my head
and enters where memories are,
trying on a face, posing
in some familiar scene,
rummaging through what a child
left there long ago as if
it was searching for itself.
And there are mornings
when waking I sense its presence
in the dissolving residue of a dream,
a small footprint left on that
shore between awareness and sleep,
an indent, a scooped out hole
where something broken
took refuge and sought comfort
in being near.
There are dark times
when it almost becomes
a plumbed in part of me,
each bunkered in our own
adjoining rooms, held apart
by a wall neither of us
want to breach. We have spent
a good part of our lives here,
holding onto what should be set free,
fearing that if we did, one of us
would cease to be.
Once again I'm captivated as I look into her eyes
It's the way she allures me wearing just a smile
Wishing, I'm wishing for my hands to soon apply
Her palm raised I now know to await just a while
Soon I'm drawn in again upon viewing her thighs
Slowly towards me she walks, gravity now seen
My mind sees our future imaging our next scene
Slowly dancing naked so close but I can't reach
Taunting teasing pleasing poses engross my orbs
Languages of us yet there's no words of speech
Caressing her undulations soon to me absorbed
Soft tanned porcelain skin ripened like a peach
Close to me she's now, her scents sensed, sigh
My tongue secretly asps for my heart can't deny
Gestured outstretched hands, shapely hips met
Curvaceous lines of she addressed by my touch
Upon my lap she sits, I'm hungered wanting whet
Internal gears are turning amidst my driving clutch
Beating hearts soon to touch, adjoining we're set
Silken sheets now welcome adorned by loving two
Tomorrow night it's my turn, I'll stand in front of you
Dedicated to 'Olive Eloisa Guillermo' whom has my heart xx
Dihing, adjoining borderline with Arunachal, on the foothills of mighty Patkai,
In the encircling mesas of terrestrial plains of high altitudes,
lies the Assam Valley's tropical wet evergreen forests,
Named after its thick density of trees and profuse diverse ecology,
the Amazon of the East, the Dehing- Patkai Wildlife Sanctuary.
An abode to the myriad of endangered species, copious floras and faunas, a hotspot, the zone of world's richest biodiversity.
As amazing as Amazon's tropical forests, dark and dense:
The country's lungs like last lowland the evergreen rainforest.
Where the tallest of the tall trees with creepers are competing
for the sunlight forming greenish lavish canopies.
There, the animal kingdom awakens, whoops;
When the light falls, fathoming the density, filters in
The floras with the exotic species: orchids, lianas, epiphytes, are sparse and unique,
The faunas endless, the sole quirky reserve in the country with its' lush evergreen ecological system.
Nestled amidst the most picturesque valleys and hills,
Is reclining the lungs of the congenial climate for survival, of the region
A celestial abode on earth of the rarest IUCN red listed, on the verge of extinct species,
TheDehing Patkai, the richest part of the Sub-Himalayan region, a major carbon sink ecosystem.
.
The Amazon of the East, with its sacred biodiversity hotspot,
is apprehensive of it's extinction
As the relentless injudicious mining and digging,
Has taken away the pulses of the oxygen feeding lush terrain,
Imagine a world devoid of rainforests, where we need to carry oxygen tanks, the most unfortunate substitution!
It's sending signals after signals not to play with its' immensely diverse tropical bio- canopy region;
To save the last remaining unparalleled foliage, affluent lowland from excision!
As no amount of wealth will be enough to save us from the impending outcomes of destruction,
Pivotal to rescue and redeem the Amazon of the East;
the tropical evergreen Dehing -Patkai reserve, the richest rainforest of the region!
The sun caresses my skin on this hot summers day.
It would be wonderful for a slight rain to splash on my
skin in such a way.
I should love it if a cool breeze came floating by.
Time seems to be going by slowly these days.
I hear the words whispered from his lips.
"Don't go all shy on me now".
As his fingertips caress the length of my spine.
We lay naked on the top of the summer meadow.
A kiss on the lips, a kiss on the hips.
I saw the cranes fly, as I moved to his touch.
They flew from the edge of the pond, below us.
As we were spread out on the large quilt.
High on the peak, I with my book of prose.
Him, with his glistening body dripping beads of sweat.
I've come to these's highlands since I could remember.
This place was a staple of my childhood, in fact, this
mountain hilltop belonged to my grandparents.
His words rolled on the slight movement in the air.
" Be still", "it was our little game we played".
As he traced the nap of my neck with his tongue
And found his way to my lips, our tongues entwined
like ivy on the forest walls.
We had been friends since the age of twelve.
That's when his parents bought the adjoining land.
You taste like sweet mountain honey, " all mine".
He knew his touch inflamed my senses, as finger
tips caressed his muscles, as nails pierced his skin.
He knew he drove me crazy, as I drifted into bliss.
Though still fully aware of his every touch, every
rhythm of our heartbeats kept tempo with our inferno lust.
His every touch reminded me why I kept coming back for
the summer vacations, besides my grandparents being old.
In fact, this would be the last two days of summer pleasure.
I wouldn't want to lose my editing job, back in the city.
I felt his eager body quiver as we moved together in time.
As he pressed his hips against mine, it was all I could do.
Lovely woman, you are my summers favorite delight !!!
Jan. 7, 2013 Monday 10 pm
I haven't written one like this in about five years.
Thought I'd give it a try.
Disgrace
Aloof the satisfaction of my indifference, I identified this taboo that seem to chime deeper into the ears of my heart demanding the poet's write undivided attention.
I got cut off from the rest of the world in a Bamenda depicting swag
Tethering but leaving the serpent lair untamed.
With first sight of no country man problem, the Atanga's arouse and sustain the coffin man revolution and concur the name of colonial master.
And who could tell the contrary? When all you did was to brutalized, kidnap and terrorized the country man
To now deny and define taboo the same country man you came bargaining with and begging to buy!
In a usual manner of the 90's we applaud and witness country Sundays in renounce police murder And bogus uncanny theory of we are one and indivisible!
In slits of time and yet unnoticed, you purged those you marked extremists to the satisfaction of your Nkondengui dungeon.
Mobbing Bali, Wum and tagging Ndop with another colonial slap, you earned without need of an arithmetic proof the formulae of fear and confusion.
Like a fanatic of undivided attention, you repeatedly called for school effective resumption while adjoining a case you long lost even before putting them behind bars
Helas!
What a caricature of yourself you've made?
Leaving me with no description than a grotesque disgusting La Republique that need redemption and awakening!
Copyright DePoet 2017
Resourceful - conjuring bulk from brain brew
Remorseful - predictable poetry, spirit sinking
Perception - radically alters the same view
Pareidolia - open gate self driven thinking
Eradicate - enclosure - thwart cliche profanity
Enigma - drifts in layers of conciousness
Hallucinate - haunts the bridge adjoining sanity
Hypothosise - solidify vapour responsiveness
Fabricate - concocted charade materialised
Fantasy - unreal ideas give desperate relief
Establish - beyond bounds to tantalise
Erroneous - concealed, reveals new belief
Rampant written critters eat readers' expectations
Sabre tooth tigers exude from woodgrain exuberantly
Thumping words stir rainbow disco illumination
With sage persuasion, topic prospers convincingly
Slices of vivid visuals leave consumer inflicted
Scenarios spring suddenly, scorch on impact
Rage and rapture entwine, rapid zig zag ballistic
Buffed poem friction, grazed reader attacked
Written: 29th July 2020
Submitted for Contest: Pareidolia Poem
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
(In honor of my husband, a paid Firefighter for 27 years
who retired as Assistant Chief in 1986)
It's 3:00 am on a frigid, dark winter night.
A piercing alarm shatters the silence, and
he speeds away on a truck, lights flashing,
horns blaring, to respond to the emergency.
At the scene, all three floors of the building
are engulfed in flames, which are spreading
to some adjoining apartments on either side.
With selfless dedication and strong courage,
he rushes into that raging, roaring inferno.
He is a firefighter on a mission to save lives.
But many people never think of the virtues
which carry him through his difficult work.
What endless stamina and courage it takes
to race into a burning structure, alive with
flames licking at him from many directions;
to enter the interior filled with dense smoke,
where the visibility is zero and requires him
to wriggle on the floor, on hands and knees
where it is less thick, to see anything at all
with the perils of the floor collapsing under him.
But he forgets the risks. He needs to rescue
the trapped children, mother, elderly couple,
or anyone hiding beneath a bed, in a closet,
out of sight, behind a stove or refrigerator;
or those stranded and crying by open windows
where he leads them to stay calm and come
to the ladder to be carried away to safety below
where paramedics can assess medical needs.
Yet, so many times, he must face deep pain;
those lives lost, no matter how hard he tried.
This is courage.
When tons of doom filled nights fall on your head,
hot embers glow and fires burn unabated,
you recall her last breath and wish you were dead.
In a poem's sad lines you've been castrated.
From the heavens a voice thunders dire threats
about losses and breakfasts consumed without eggs.
Fumbling about, looking to hedge your bets,
you drink your cold coffee, down to burnt dregs.
On waking you find dawn's hard hammer fell
last night's burns are reminders of strife.
You stumble and look up from the pits of Hell,
recounting the reasons why you lost your wife.
Your clock chimes out vulgar curses at you
and your house bids you leave by peals at noon.
You think of the ancient, wicked dreams, too,
as night falls with its wretched lucent moon.
You dream of hungry tigers eating your boots.
Your house is perched atop two adjoining trees.
A hunter fires; but it's not a tiger he shoots.
Your second wife cuts off your legs at the knees.
With life's blood flowing from your severed veins
your heart bemoans that you married once more.
By morning you were free from nightmare's pains
but horrid memories linger behind closed doors.
What vast burdens you bear in fear of sleep
and hollows in your mind fill quickly with dread.
When your clock strikes twelve, I hear you weep,
" Odious anguish! I wish I were dead."
Shadows dance on your walls in candle light.
Dark images of her body pressed close to you,
waltzing in your arms on a moonlit night
but she vanishes when dawn's rays break through.
Which sort of dream scars your mind with more grief?
The ones in which you're butchered; burned by fire,
or when daylight steals her away like a furtive thief?
Will your penance release you from the leeching mire...
the terror you encounter each night as you lie abed?
Foolishly, you once thought love claimed your heart.
Therein lies the angst of what you most dread...
the vexing memories in dreams that tear you apart.
Co-Written with Robert Lindley based on the original
verses he offered in the open challenge on his blog.
In dream I saw a shooting star.
It scorched a purple crusted sky
Between the moon and rising sun
Where an ambitious wish could fly.
Pale plunging tail to distant views
An auspicious sombre trail.
Inviting hope for seeking souls
Hinting solemn quests,
Yet to fail.
Adjoining was a moody sea
Spacious waves, so synchronised
Pounamu tinged in stirring sand
Tainted truths, in sophisticated lies.
On land I see opposing peaks
Each splitting views of common ground
Defending sight from unseen flanks
Staunch guardians rising to confound.
Next soaring albino kereru
Flying in swirling koru paths
A karearea strikes one down
Leaving repugnant aftermath.
Suddenly the sun is blacked
In silent roar
Concrete jungles on the rise
Foundations built on measured thought
In new clothes
Green emperors look surprised.
Methinks it's time for me to create
A rhyme.
My marbles have been scrambled and
Methinks it's quite a crime.
To lose the grand red Highway running athwart my mind.
all my T's and F's and Z's are running amuck.
It is the Amygdala's disambiguation
Messing up my brain.
I was making such amazing progress!
I was starting to achieve,
Intrigued I am - about just how the Amygdala disambiguates.
Hower, mussitation in the definition of this disambiguation.
Have left me with a headache of metacognitive frustration.
* Amygdala - a ganglion of the limbic system adjoining the temporal lobe of the brain and involved in emotions of fear and aggression.