Long Amalgamate Poems

Long Amalgamate Poems. Below are the most popular long Amalgamate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Amalgamate poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member To My Dentist!

In all my seriousness, I feel the need for a little light relief.....................

What makes a person want to drill 
and poke in peoples' mouths? 
To inflict pain and suffering 
then say 'just swill around'? 
To see the fear in peoples'eyes, 
to watch with glee as chlidren cry 
as they wave their baby teeth 'goodbye', 
must give them such a thrill. 
That one sided conversation 
(they know you can't talk back: 
they've packed you full of cotton wool) 
 -'Oh no! Your abcess tracked!' 
Your molar teeth are all decayed 
(that must have been the fudge you made), 
Your canine has a cavity 
(that must be all the herbal tea)' 
as she waves her prodding tools with glee... 
No matter how much Lignocaine 
they use to try and numb the pain, 
the sound of all that whirring drilling, 
the taste, the smell, the noise, the chair, 
is not exactly thrilling. 
Yet, if we're good, we must go back 
to visit twice a year. 
We sit with fingers crossed unseen 
as we're scaled and polished, 
scraped and cleaned... 
We hope the dentist soon will say, 
'there's nothing much to do today. 
Sign this form, be on your way - 
oh, by the way, do you have to pay?'... 
PAY! For all this sweat and grief 
as I mourn the loss of my wisdom teeth? 
Amalgamate my cavities 
and swish with flouride water 
Around my gold caps and my crowns! 
Yes, the dentist can be such a pleasure: 
a memory you will always treasure; 
a joy that will be hard to measure 
as you remember with a sigh, 
that if you'd only ventured 
to choose a set of dentures, 
you could've been spared financial drain 
and never visited again 
the dentist with her whining drill 
who seems to EXTRACT such a thrill 
from misery and pain! 

see you in six months ..........


The Face In the Moon

Blood drips from my weary eyes
Tears weeping for the tyranny of time
Villainy rapped up in the atmosphere
Raping and seducing the innocent without fear.
The baseness of aged old women
And the iniquities of hoary men
Mingling in dirty beds dining in public places
And sleeping with gray- haired jezebels. 
The ageing moments creeps slowly upon the door steps
Spewing out guilt and starving shame
Greedy guts packed with treacherous fumes 
Mesmerizing the mind of innocent youths.
The authoritarian amalgamate with them 
Laughing with them feasting with them
And shaking their bloody and filthy hands
Wounding hearts puncturing souls  
Yet half of the story is still untold. 
The music rattles on battered edges
Playing a sour disgusting tune
Gearing up for a perilous journey 
Hoping that it will give them victory.
I spent the entire night in the parking lot 
Crying out to my invisible God
Asking him to show his hand of mercy
And deal promptly with this vicious cruelty
I wept and prayed yet everything remained the same way.
But yesterday while driving around the block
Something magnificent happen right on the spot.
The big round moon with its glowing light shone directly through my
Windscreen and I saw a face in the brightly lit moon 
It was smiling as if it was speaking directly to me
I had to keep my eyes on the road so I glanced at it for a few seconds.
And when I circled around the block 
The face in the moon smiled at me again.
                                                                    
                                                                   ©2014 Christine Phillips

Our Journey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRj9jUpKhRI


Gliding down the river of dreams we take to the ore 
watching the last of the sunlight descend o'er the lake 
Peaceful wings soar above our heads and we smile 
as we shimmy through the waves  with an easy sway 
gliding down the river of hope alongside the drake 
Striding the waters slow as can be we keep pace 
with the swans as they slip through the stream 
like white winged angels and velvet black swans 
portenting the change through a sky made of lace    
we are the gliders, wandering for loves own sake 
Grappling with life, plucking our courage we slip   
into the meld of the water, we amalgamate 
shoring our Faith upstream we navigate 
as we shimmy through the waves with easy sway 
gliding down the river of hope, alongside the drake 
we journey....5/10/2020

Pleasant Spring Like Day February 17th, 2022 Part Two

Decreased dissension 
grudgingly did abate
unclouded protests trumpet
Trump to abdicate
irrefutable proof generates
activist voices to accumulate
linkedin over Green Party 
blessedly to administrate

hoop fully figurative tide
will turn and aerate
political atmosphere whereby
progressive minds will affiliate
otherwise business as usual,
cuz spewing deadly particulate
will only aggravate
dire straits, where 
webbed wide world series

of unfortunate events will airdate
prophetic apocalyptic fate
especially if nonprogressive
stodgy commander in chief re-elected
flush with bigotry and hate
increased chance (chants) ripe state
for revolution avast swath
of population to amalgamate,

and overthrow anachronistic government
absolute zero survival unless dramatic
nondestructive strategy eschewed
to supplant exploitation and mandate
radical transformation, which dramatic
shift off grid if lucky requisite
Earth friendly manufacturing
can possibly ameliorate.

Fear of the Unknown

The fear of the unknown has 
emerged every single sensitive gut feeling of hunger...
a hunger so excruciating that my mind calls out for all my immeasurable emotions and painstakingly feelings to amalgamate

The fear of the unknown left my humanity weakened - drowned by all its uncertainty
I am once more nothing but  a lifeless victim of...the unknown

Small changes of letting go of everything you were once certain of, frightened by the mere fact of something new and life changing

As my mind and heart plays tug of war trying to persuade me between letting go of feeling petrified or just to just linger for a moment and to seize the unrevealed

As all of this seems so overwhelming, I try to come to sense of my options towards as to what my gut wants me to feed it.
I know I need to feed it self-possession to ensure that I do not starve my inner conscious
My mind is now continuously reminding me that fear, is only fear itself

I'm once more persuaded by my gut to listen to my mind and to liaise in terms of letting go and to clasp onto the unknown


The Protraction of the Epiphany

The Protraction of the Epiphany

Complacency in a stilted light of regret
Vagrancy in a jilted sight of neglect 
Emergency in a wilted light of insects
The urgency of a curative substance to inject

Wellsprings of artificial truth and humour 
Hells things accumulate with the modern day consumer
A year in the jungle with the rare black Asian Pumas
A fear and a rumble of a growing brain tumour 

Excerpts of illumination beaming out through a crowd 
Concerts of contamination leaning forward and loud
An old hearse of consecration screaming lines of the Proud 
A written verse of invitation about what is sworn and vowed 

Desert storms inland from the sea 
Crescent forms of moonlight that shine down upon me
Elegant storms of starlight that are too bright to even see
Decadent norms shed for what’s right as you embolden the free

Elevated insights into the passages of time 
Nominated fights about the ravages of crime 
Consecrated rights about the rhythm of a rhyme 
Ill-created sights as we look to the night for a sign 

Refine the moment before you descend from your throne 
Define who owns it as humanity leaves you alone 
Confine who clones it before it hijacks all of your homes
Incline to hone it before the Queen turns to stone 

Perpetuate the intimate and sign up for the next sequel 
Commiserate the consulate before human rights become the prequel 
Eviscerate then integrate as you shout about it from the steeple
Amalgamate then consecrate the water for the people 

Divide the notion of partial responsibility 
Inside the ocean of martial comparability 
Apply the lotion of spatial inter generational exclusivity 
Collide the sojourns of musical improvisational proclivity 

Allow your sorrow to rise up and purge from your system
Now you follow the size of your urge to demystify him
How tomorrow through the eyes of your words make you thin
Bow to the borrowed lies of the absurd man with a grin 

What comprises the ultimate act of integrity?
Hot suprises to formulate the exacts of berevity
Not decided to promulgate the contraction of longevity 
Of the insiders I consummate the protraction of the epiphany 

 The End Copywrite Elizabeth Moroz
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Black And White


For the schematic inducement of compulsive being,
the transmuting tenet of identity
changes in the self-devised palette of color mélange,
while the conjured chameleon 
paints the shifting façade of contrast.

In the ostensible enactment of life’s drama, 
the performance perfected by obsessed passion
of playing the multicolored roles,
the sly shift from one actor to another 
is an axiomatic design of innate drive. 

As the colors amalgamate in the limelight  
on the visage of the virtual makeup,
the chromatic face morphs into a mirror,  
reflects the illusory actuality in shades of gray
with the perplexing disposition of ambiguity.

The spasm of contrived perception splits the mirror, 
the shards of shattered pretence 
scatter as abandoned obscure debris. 
Metamorphosis creates the absolute entity, 
shaped by the distinct contours of black and white.

Premium Member My Birth Place

Cape Comorin  (Kanyakumari) of Tamil Nadu,
Might be copious of the core concept called Xanadu;
Indian Ocean, Bay of Bengal, Arabian Sea, 
Amalgamate and mingle here, like mermaids, full of glee...!

Treasures of silver, gold, and gemstones within oceans lay,
Sea gods and goddesses; ghosts and angels; live here, they say;
The sun, like a pendulum pushed from the sea, rises up,
Descends and disappears, like a kicked ball, before we sup...!

The southernmost part of the Indian nation is this,
Men and women of many religions live here in bliss; 
Temples, mosques, churches, gurudwaras, and palaces antique,
Exhibit their inter-religiosity, unique...!

We don't have the Angel Fall, but a few falls we have here,
Young and old, at leisure times, play within them full of cheer;
Nature has made her paintings, lo, with green woods and forests,
Lullabies of little birds and beasts, never find a rest...!

Coconuts, Arrack nuts, spices, and tapiocas grow,
Bananas of varieties put up their fresh fruit show;
Goods trading we do; fish in terms of fresh tapioca,
We share, our simple love, in cups of coffee or cocoa...!

Jewelry, stone carvings, cane work, lace work, metal casting,
 Needlework, sculptures, and sea shell crafts go everlasting;
Coral grass mats, palm leaf designs, cane, and bamboo caudex,
Jute-based handicrafts and we have so fine fiber products...!

A dialect of Tamil-mix Malayalam we chant,
Though our mother tongue is classical Tamil known so grand;
Kalial, Bow Song, Karagam Dance, and Kathakali, 
We carry on our cultural heritage zealously...!

Rice, tapioca, coconut, seafood, legumes, lentils,
Mangos, bananas, and jacks are our food fundamentals;
Fishing flourishes; and farming into the inner land,
Toddy-tapping and rubber rearing too go hand in hand...!

Though our innate quality is love mixed with purity, 
Modernity, no doubt, has brought in insecurity...!
Trust in the divine and love for nature, yet, make us grow,
Inspiring us beyond the oceans, and the skies to go...!!!

22 May 2023 
If Your Birthplace-country was a poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member They Say He Is a Loser

To criticize a person with a crude controversy,
Is like stripping off one's clothes, in public, without mercy;
This has been, yet, a habit common in the social sphere,
Like drinking a cup of coffee or cheering in chilled beer...!

Lula da Silva, a member of the Workers' Party,
Trouncing Geraldo Alckmin, won people's support hearty;
He came to be known as the most popular president,
With wisdom and wit, he did blend his prime power advent...!

Poverty, inequality, joblessness, child labor,
Illiteracy, and infant deaths he did not favor;
Average wage morals and income modes molded and matched,
Ethos with education and health care got soon attached...!

Disputes erupted about him on and off like mushrooms,
Jailed and released as though a goat thief or burglar of brooms;
Elected president as though no speck of theft stuck him,
He was soon plagued by many corruption scandals grill grim...!

He fanned, like fuel wind, through fumes of filial fiddles,
Molded mildly and minutely, evil ethnic appeals;
Operation Car Wash exposed his treasure-hidden frauds,
He was found guilty of wads by all odds before law-gods...!

Nine-fingered (left-hand little finger lost in a mishap),
Like the Chinese cartoon rat escaped from many a trap;
Yet, when the hands of law and the divine amalgamate,
Could even a pirate great easily skate off his fate...???


21 April 2023
They say he's a loser Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Incarnate

Unlike flower essence, which becomes roses or lilies,
Unlike animal essence that's born into birds and beasts
To bring within humanity love, justice, trust, and peace
The divine takes the human form, and with it co-exists

Gods and goddesses, Hinduism holds, took the form of fish.
Hummingbirds, alligators, tortoises, snakes, stags, and boars
Into eagles, horses, peacocks, doves, vultures, and Ibis
The Greek deities took forms and fulfilled their earthly chores.

Impossibilities for humans are made possible.
Weak flesh and strong spirit amalgamate into a whole.
The eternal, intangible becomes accessible.
Each physical particle turns into a psychic soul.

Omnipresence, like flowers and aroma, becomes one.
All that is celestial, like the rain, descends on the earth.
With the Holy Ghost, herein dwell. the Father and the Son.
Each being, in the Holy Trinity, gains their new birth.
Form: Rhyme

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