Long Ana Poems
Long Ana Poems. Below are the most popular long Ana by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ana poems by poem length and keyword.
Wildfires of fall bring us whirlwinds of flame.
Black-scape throughout, life’s survival or death?
Spring blooms of dogwood. Renewal sustained.
Santana stampedes, she’s wicked, untamed,
through canyons of ages. We hold our breath.
Wildfires of fall bring us whirlwinds of flame.
Now Dante’s hellhound of Hades renamed!
Desiccation abounds where there were fresh
spring blooms of dogwood. Renewal sustained.
What brought this on us, is someone to blame?
Nature or mishap? A crazed soul's arrest?
Wildfires of fall bring us whirlwinds of flame.
Now charred, disfigured but memory maintains
the clear hills of May, June sparrows, content.
Spring blooms of dogwood, renewal sustained.
Flora in peril, all creatures the same!
Twixt ashes or mudslides? These losses attest!
Wildfires of fall bring us whirlwinds of flame.
Spring blooms of dogwood, renewal sustained.
Ana is a nickname used by those with anorexia. For some, it's a "superior" way of life. For others, it's a way to belong. Ultimately, it's a life ruled by fear; whether it's ever faced or forever denied.
If you suffer from an eating disorder, please try to get help. No one wants to see you die from your illness. Take care and stay safe.
Ana
By Michelle Morris
02/05/2023
Ana, Ana, Ana
Your name conjures up images
Demons and heartbreak
Anger and shame
Ana has been a part of my life for decades
She was my mom's best friend
She was a family secret
She was the biggest liar and manipulator
Nothing I could do or say
Would lessen her grip on my mom
I was sucked into her orbit
There was nothing I could do to avoid it
My mom was tiny
She was around 5 feet tall
She looked like a little pixie
But she could be a demon troll
I always loved her
I still miss her beyond words
But our relationship was complicated
By all the baggage and demons we had to deal with
It's taken many, many years
I accept that I'm not perfect
I appreciate that I don't have to be
To receive love and affection
But I still have super high standards
I'm still way too hard on myself
But I am grateful that I don't have Ana
Living in my life or my daughter's
Ana is divisive
She is cruel, controlling and dark
She'll never bring love and light
Sadly, she'll always be part of our world
If you have Ana in your life
If you believe she helps you belong
Please step back and realise it's denial
No one can show you love when you're gone
There's nothing superior about starving
There's nothing sacred about this way of life
You belong with those who want you to live
Please accept and embrace life and hope
You don't need to fear being happy
You don't need to fear the scale
You don't need to feel like an island
For you are part of life and you are loved
© Michelle Morris, 2023
In the Irish mountain "Breasts of Anu" I reside.
I am mother goddess, the spirit essence of nature.
Anu or Danu my worshipers call me with pride.
Dana or Ana my believers apply their nomenclature.
I am the female principle, primal vessel for all things.
I birthed the people of Dana, the Celtic race of gods.
As enchantress, my incantations are said by kings.
As avatar of river and land, I appear on many facades.
Revered over Europe, I grant my name to River Danube.
I even appear in Sanskrit as the spirit of the aquatic.
You will celebrate the fruity flavors of the jujube,
as I am prosperity and food provider dramatic.
I am Danu, goddess of Earth and river fecund.
I am Anu, mother of wealth to many I have beckoned.
Early on a cold March morning
a handful of men took a stand
in the year of eighteen thirty six
when a sabre drew a line in the sand
it was victory or death for the valiant few
outnumbered and out-gunned
surrender and be spared an ultimatum they knew
with a cannon shot by Travis it was shunned
even as the day was dawning
the handful of men held their ground
thirteen days in San Antonio
such a fearful sight a dreadful sound
Santa Ana gave the order,
'Fly the red banner, show no quarter,'
a bloody battle to the bitter end
while the Mexican band played 'El Degüello'
now the guns are silent the smoke has cleared
to this day Texians all say, "Remember the Alamo."
In the narrow gorge of the Pusa River, in Toledo
Ana Venero waited for me, legs spread wide
Showing me that throat of her vulva
A waist a yard and a half wide
All covered in hair
As well as her rear end.
When I approached her
With my erect
Which measured as much as my wrist
A quarter and a half
I didn't notice a thing
Where it went in because of the hair
Because I took it by the hand
Without knowing where it was leading.
It didn't lead me to her mouth
Or to ejaculate between her breasts.
I was horny for a woman
And I lifted her towards me with great force
As if I were lifting a load of firewood.
She, waking me from my dream
Entered into conversation:
-Serrano, this bud of yours is a very good thing.
And those colostrum that it releases
Adorn my colon and the sky of my very much.
So much so that even the Fallopian tubes were gurgling
Without anyone touching them.
I laughed my head off
While I came inside her.
I started pulling my out from I don't know where
Until she told me
That it looked dead.
-My dear mountain man of my
Don't let it die," she said scaring me.
Then I said to her:
"Please, Ana Venero
Tell me how many bears and dragons have passed
Through your pot and your final hole
Because I've entered you
Like Mate the greyhound in his mate.
-Look," she replied, pointing to her :
Through this carnal sphere
Important people have passed:
Nobles and commoners
Fathers with their illiterate children
Carters and bullfighters
Constables and mayors
And the ones I remember best, who are:
Lazarillo de Tormes
Don Quixote from La Mancha
Calixto, the one from Melibea's story
The Bogeyman
The pedophile priest of Ronchal
And even a very filthy fellow
Who liked the blood from my period
And they called him 'poor Count Dracula
They all left happy
Enjoying themselves immensely
Because they all told me
When they finished ing me:
-Now, Ana Venero, may God rest in peace
Because we've had our fill
With that hairy cake of yours of glory.
As I walked away from her
She shouted at me:
Come back, mountain man, come back!
Come back for the condoms you haven't used!
They're such pretty colors!
It's a shame to lose them.
Turning back to her I shouted:
-I don't care about them, Ana Venero.
Do whatever you want with them.
Starving stomach, food in the brain,
Some say disease, others say vain.
Her new friend Ana, showing the way,
Worshipping scales, twice a day.
To her, she is way more than fat
to others, way thinner than flat.
The built in rule, let food in,
And you will never be as thin.
Her friends find her weight an ordeal,
Ana’s at the sink ‘helping’, after a meal.
Pounds are lost, herself is lost,
Shirking her food at all cost.
As she dwindles, time deprived,
Remember before Ana arrived.
She eats through her eyes instead,
Frenzied with hunger, eyeing the spread.
She is a small ribbed frame,
She is a figure of worldly fame.
Meals alone, meals hidden,
Counting calories, craving the forbidden.
Lies to reassure, more lies to hide,
Concerns from loved ones, brushed aside.
No more than bones, too weak to fight,
She confronts her friend ‘Ana’.... Anorexia.
22/02/19
Within ageless canyons we hold our breath.
Ash clouds engulf us, survival or death?
Santana stampedes, pariah unchained.
‘Tis Dante’s hellhound of Hades renamed!
Chased from our homes and all else that we own,
Panicked we flee, to a refuge unknown.
Behind us a past we can never forget
The clear hills of May, June’s swallows…regret.
Sparked up by nature, mishap or misdeed
Transmission line wires sing songs we must heed.
Flora in peril. Restore what is left!
Redeem our planet for which we’ve been blest.
Wildfires delivering whirlwinds of flame.
Let’s pledge to assure renewal sustained.
Hey Jesus I got cut on my hand today.
I love you Jesus I was crying yesterday like I started feeling emotions
I want to protect so many people I love so many people and it feels odd
Jesus I love people all over the world
I want everyone to be ok
thank you Jesus for being my best friend
Ana is a friend again like never before she is like my best friend too
Jesus I saw the Theodore tug boat episode about how we can all be best friends
thank you so much for being my friends everyone
Jesus thank you so much for everything you do for me
I got hurt but my brother cared for my wound
and I remembered not everyone wants to be my friend