Long Agitating Poems
Long Agitating Poems. Below are the most popular long Agitating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Agitating poems by poem length and keyword.
Outdoor party, music playing, couples dancing, bodies swaying
to the melody portraying in the evening’s raucous hum.
Cocktails flowing without saying, fruity drinks on guests are preying,
soon a dizziness conveying fueled by Captain Morgan’s rum;
mind conveying thoughts displaying, fueled by Captain Morgan’s rum
which leaves me in delirium.
Enter now a girl in waiting, moving slowly, agitating,
leaving lonely hearts pulsating, as, into the room she comes.
Beauty so intoxicating, stunning looks are captivating,
rising passions generating, causing conscious to go numb;
captivating looks creating, causing conscious to go numb
and leave me in delirium.
From afar a quick flirtation as our eyes meet in fixation
raising high my expectation of the moments yet to come.
Gone for now my hesitation, tempered by the night’s libation,
hoping that her inclination taking me where dreams are from;
offering her invitation taking me where dreams are from,
and join me in delirium.
In my thoughts my mind infuses, hoping to be who she chooses,
finding all the dreams she muses; can I pluck this juicy plum?
From within my mind accuses, deep inside my yearning oozes,
will I be the one she uses, sating sultry wants then some;
ever using fears diffusing, sating sultry wants then some,
and leave my body feeling numb
…forever in delirium.
July 23, 2020
I find bananas nauseating,
this sugary fruit really a berry;
a curvy yellow thing some call captivating,
I don't care- how many benefits dietary!
Odious the smell,
and just hideous as well.
After arriving home deteriorating,
looking like an alien creature scary;
claims of healthy so agitating,
and don't try to hide- a loaf creating!
The dark spots vile,
especially when in a pile.
_____________________________
January 10, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/My Blue Cheese is Bananas
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9815-13-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Like a tempest churning upward
on seething pinnacles of wind,
like a twisting, whirling violence
that is too cruel to comprehend;
thus the conflict of our nature
intensifies within the breast,
agitating all distortion
as it obliterates all rest.
Like waves, loud and wildly clashing,
tormenting both the sea and shore,
like the mouth of hell enlarging
forever craving more and more
is the plight of human spirits,
hungering always for release,
never finding it till yielded
completely to the Perfect Peace.
Like a Galilee once quieted
where Jesus spoke His "Peace, be still,"
thus the conflict we must forfeit,
the raging war of human will.
Lost in Him our plans, ambitions,
resigned to death the carnal strife,
impotent the vicious madness
in joyous, resurrected life.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, 1987
Kings and lords of powerful kingdoms
built castles with high towers on hills
to defend themselves from the invaders;
I've built no castles because my defender is God...
I've no need to build a fortress if He stands by me!
My riches lie in words and they praise the merciful Father
of compassion who protects anybody without an armor;
I seek Him not only in joy but in grief as well:
He's the river of living water that fills up my well!
Rich people guard their gold constantly and agitating
they toss in their turbulent sleep, I go to sleep peacefully
uttering the same childhood prayer when angels sang joyfully;
even now, unafraid of hose murky shadows: I hear their song!
My riches lie in words and they declare a faith with a yielding sword;
is a person defined by wealth or by the virtues he possesses inside?
Any treasure is sought by thieves although it is hidden and guarded!
If vanity is foolishness, shouldn't we pursue the essential things in life?
Copyright ( c ) 2017 by Andrew Crisci
A wounded sigh, an expression evincing the pain of hurt,
A bawl in solitude, turbulence of inner emptiness stirs,
When emotions clamor, simmering in angst of regrets,
When mute demeanor, of injured breath, wistfully frets.
Soul desperately aches for a special someone to talk to,
Someone who understands the language of quietude,
Someone who can soothe the trauma, of life gone askew,
Someone who brings to fore, hope of tomorrow anew.
Laments of past echo, moaning upon meadows of life,
Reverberating in heartbreak of grief, bereft of promise,
To rehabilitate devastation of savage emotional storms,
As covenants, deemed eternal, hesitate in broken vows.
Wounded hearts now trace moments of love, sadly lost,
When loneliness dwells in nightmares of past forlorn,
When the abandoned pledges of forever, callously mock,
As muffled wail recalls, life of joy and love, that once was.
Sorrows now seek solace, yearning compassionate voice
To soothe tides of heartbreak, agitating lonesome mind,
As hopes of morrow rekindle in womb of promising night,
When smile-endearing, subjugates cry of wounded sigh.
Rife are grievous echoes lamenting worldwide
From widespread disgust clamoring weary sigh,
Perturbed in lonesomeness, bawling in dark,
Clasped beneath shroud of tenebrous clouds,
Rendering world aghast in grip of distraught.
Battlefield is raging, tearing apart humanity,
Women and children are dying of atrocities
From bombs and missiles fired indiscriminately
Destroying buildings, annihilating normalcy,
As lives scatter, fleeing death and uncertainty.
Fueled by anger, pent-up distress is brewing,
Helplessness is stirring, caught in pandemic,
Lives once dynamic are static, unengaging;
Minds are bewildered, hearts are agitating,
Feelings, once solemn, have now turned eerie.
Oceans are heating, hurricanes are churning,
The Alps are melting, yet the rivers are drying,
Cities are flooding, neighborhoods are drowning,
In uncontrolled infernos forests are burning,
Unfathomable climate is plaguing farm yields.
Gales stirring extremes roil storms of suffering,
Lava churning desperation is boiling, bubbling,
Ready to erupt violently spewing angst volcanic,
Challenging fate openly, tired of venting silently,
Foretelling of warning: a blow-up is simmering.
November 4, 2022
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 14 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Tile chosen: Tinderbox
On troubled roads of life, when opposing sides collide,
Conflict of emotions clamors, agitating ego and pride,
While empathy warns: let forgiveness be your guide,
As benevolent angels, in missives of compassion chide.
Mired in wins and losses, when humanity strums offbeat,
Adversaries propagate hatred, and blatantly mistreat,
As meaningless conversations puff up, donning conceit,
While expressions of solemn amiability retreat in defeat.
A proffer of calm and goodwill, checks enemy’s reign
When sanctity prevails, calming a perturbed domain,
As atonement and humility heal, soothing angst of pain
And disturbed vibes seeking revenge, begin to wane.
As nobility of repentance tenders offers of mercy, grace,
Malevolent behaviors recede, ashamed in disgrace,
And enlightenment of intellect inspires vacuous space,
When hosting redemption, reformed enemies embrace.
In affluence of cognitive thoughts informed minds elate
Harboring tolerance and sympathy, discarding hate,
Being harmonious with peace, mundane life they liberate,
Achieving balance within, unfazed by travails of fate.
My palette is my imagination.
I paint pictures with my words.
Swirling colours of composition.
Mixing metaphors - agitating them
with the paintbrush in my mind.
My vocabulary is my keyboard.
Trilling notes of expression.
Crescendo of composition...
tumbling, falling....allegro, or
andante, and harmonised in my creativity.
My glossary is my tapestry.
Fixed firmly to the frame of verbal
inventiveness. Stitched in synchronacity.
Cross stitched sometimes - or
tacked in draft for later publication.
I cannot sing to you in thrilling arias.
I cannot paint for you on colourful canvas.
I cannot play for you in perfected pitch.
I cannot hang my works of art,
but I can write what's in my heart -
and, maybe, I'll touch yours?
i. Storm
darkness is a shade
stirring shadows afraid
then the zigzag plunges
agitating the cross
again and again sawing a thin line
blackberry wine
the brew of an angry soak
a curtain torn from top to bottom
the thunder ripping
high priest covers his ears
lest the truth storm in
unwanted like an orphan
ii. Orphan
six feet under
with no mother nor father
a Ukranian wonder
curls and crown
become somebody’s daughter
no frown
shovel pats down the blunder
iii. Grave
this grave circumstance
shown the door
He stands and knocks
her chance
America an amusement park
the plane her first ride
she’s beside
herself with excitement, a spark
in her step
iv. First Steps
she will take her first steps
the moon will watch
desiring the test soil
she’d have kissed it
with her wit
how many reps
strengthen the catch
watch out world
she belongs
10/14/2020
The ants and the beetles were all celebrating
As I wed the spider that I had been dating
And soon sixteen legs would be consolidating
I could say eighteen but that’s exaggerating
But all of a sudden the ground was vibrating
We tried to get clear but the plants were gyrating
We made for a drain with a safe metal grating
To hide from the beast and it’s red armour plating
We froze at the passage the beast was creating
By severing grass with its twin blades rotating
In fear of our lives we then started debating
To run off together or try separating
A not so near miss meant I’ll never be mating
Sometimes the obvious doesn't need stating
At least while my wife finds that rather frustrating
I won’t be her lunch when we’re done consummating
We tried to escape with some skilful pond skating
It helped that the air machine wasn't aerating
But there was a fountain that was agitating
The surface too much which was infuriating
I turned to the man and began contemplating
If spiders could ever do human castrating
But soon he was done and he started inflating
A pool with a puncture, he found that deflating
Reward and his effort were not correlating
And that made him mad, made him start salivating
And just when we thought that he might be fixating
His face went all blank and his eyes were dilating
He glared at us spiders, his ire not abating
So we thought it best to be reciprocating
But he had a brick in his hand elevating
I’ll tell you right now, that was not constipating
Perhaps it’s now time for some quick relocating
This isn’t the fate I was anticip.....