Long Arms Poems
Long Arms Poems. Below are the most popular long Arms by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Arms poems by poem length and keyword.
Overlooking
The lake from his cottage deck
Like a captain last to leave his ship
My dad
Discards his cane atop the stairs
Fastens his wobbly hips and knees
Sideways
And to the rickety railing
He Inchworms his wrinkled hands
Across the slivers
Down he goes
Two feet
Each
A step at a time
Descending the 40 planks to Torch Lake
He enters the cold water
Strolling to the end of the rickety dock
Where his hands release
To a buoyancy catching him
Under his arms
My dad is young again
Springing high and settling back
Bouncy as a moon walker
Bending easily for pennies or clams
And no one dares cha-ching
At his elbow to help anymore.
He levitates on his back
Arms arrowed past his head
Like Superman
With his blue lake cape sailing behind him
Flying away across the summer.
Of words unspoken,
That you will never know.
Warm embrace,
You will never feel.
Tears not cried,
That I can’t wipe away.
Joy unsatisfied,
Hope unfulfilled,
I take them as my own.
To honour times never spent,
To sweet, bitter, forever lament.
Aching short moments,
I treasure dear.
Loss that lies deep,
In the pores of my flesh.
Your little limbs,
So perfectly formed.
Innocence divine,
Purity unrefined,
I will remember you always.
To honour times never spent,
To sweet, bitter, forever lament.
I cradle arms bare,
As I laid you to rest.
On blankets soft,
With teddies and treats.
The day I held you,
Oh, so bitter sweet.
Gentle blue eyes,
Premature goodbye,
I miss you all the time.
To honour times never spent,
To sweet, bitter, forever lament.
My true little fighter,
Right until the end.
You held on enough,
To look into my eyes.
Then you slept,
In my loving arms.
Rest assured darling,
Love’s nature guiding,
I will never leave your side.
To honour times never spent,
To sweet, bitter, forever lament.
28/04/2019
Although our world is in turmoil by a dreadful
pandemic and much hate.
Try to rise above it all and find your center.
Find the things that keep you grounded in
the midst of all the madness.
If it's your spouse, lean on them and become a
unified force.
Because you are much stronger together.
If it’s your kids wrap your arms around them
and love on them( whether they are babies,
toddlers, young children, preteens, teens, etc.)
For there is no age limit to a mother's love.
Or if it's any family member, mother, father,
sister or brother, aunt, uncle, whoever it is,
lean on them and become a fortified unit that
will stand tall all when all hell is beating up
against it.
Don't forget, dear friends, because they are
part of the family too.
If it's your faith, trust in God with everything that
you have, so you can rise above the noise to a
state of peace that only he can give.
Each dawn arrives with thrills forever new,
Each sunset brings delight beyond compare.
Allow the good Lord to comfort you,
Like a mother comforting the child in her care.
Let us enjoy the best seasons of our lives,
Let His everlasting arms cradle tight.
With trustful hearts, where hope and peace revive,
The dear Lord’s arms surround us day and night.
To guard, to comfort, and to lift our soul,
Let us live joyfully, cast burdens down.
Upon the Lord, who makes the weary whole,
In Him alone, our rest and peace are found.
Both day and night, He has promised to give full care,
In Him we live and move, forevermore.
What I see in stars above is extremely wearisome,
with useless inane details that I wish I never knew.
Light years, space-time, black holes, big bangs,
myriads of pricks 'n specks a billion miles away - who cares?
I've been over-dubbed, deluded, and robbed,
of the romance, songs, stories,
and delightful spiritual legends
that ancient master star gazers saw
in stars above.
Hunter and archers with sword, belt, arrows and shield,
A veritable zoo of animals - lion, ram, bull, bear, llama, emu,
goat, scorpion, fish and severed heads, under arms.
Pots and pans, the scrub-a-dub dish that
ran away with the spoon.
Regal Heracles, Achilles and Troy in battles raging skyward
Bickering Gods, Virgins, Kings and Queens with kids and twins.
Action-men Pharaohs, wannabee Gods,
leaping from pyramid tops,
onto the ladder of the Milky Way, which is -
The River of Heaven, Road of Souls
The Spilled Breast Milk of Hera the Mother God
The seed-strew pathway the mighty Emus trod,
pecking their way,
In stars above.
We all should get out and look up more!
Gazing with ancient eyes into the sky above,
reveling to see and enjoy what they saw,
in stars above.
Rays of sunlight caress our naked skin
ever so softly, through the leaves of trees.
And feelings of ecstasy stir within;
as gentle breezes titillate and tease.
And immodesty kicks back the covers;
exposing a tangle of arms and feet.
And a warm sensation cocoons lovers;
in a sweaty blanket of prickly heat.
Passion's pulse sets the rhythm for two heartbeats
that merge into one, then begin to race.
And with bated breath, like fevered athletes
they acquiesce; to love's tender embrace.
And melt into a heaving state of bliss;
while punctuating feelings with a kiss.
A week passed, yet no words drifted in my mind
I feared I'd become numb and poetically blind
so, I gave up, went to bed and turned off the light
but in the very next moment I screamed in fright!
"Procrastinator!" My Muse yelled, in a huff.
"You are made of much stronger stuff!"
I slid beneath the covers; she threw back the quilt.
"Oh no," she fumed, "you'll not fill me with guilt!"
I pleaded and cajoled, but she bought none of it.
She pulled out my desk chair and said, "NOW SIT!"
I obeyed and sat but nothing worthy came to mind.
I felt her staring at my back, 'twas of the evil kind.'
Desperately, I tried to conjure rhymes that would do.
She sighed then she asked, "What's wrong with you?"
I turned my head to look at her so we could confer,
but she shimmered away in a wavy transparent blur.
I called to her, and reached out trying to pull her near
My arms grasped only air, for she had disappeared.
"Come back, please. I'm sorry I've not been writing,
but thoughts you've offered lately are all about fighting."
She reappeared smiling, and before she took flight,
whispered in my ear, "Just pick up your pen and write."
I think I just experienced first hand
Consciousness
Cradled in the bosom of epiphany
Inspiration expunged from my fathers naval wake up call
Calling all hands on deck make a break
My call to arms each day
Formative dream educed sleep filled eyes oh sound awake
Was our lesson this
So long as we power the will to awake
We have been gifted the opportunity this day again
The chance to make our wrongs right
I don’t believe tomorrow comes furnished with any guarantee
Maybe just maybe today be my end of days
The moment fate hath predetermined
Today to late yesterday spurned
Departing such sweet sorrow
Non the wiser
Lesson not learned
Humilities bridge burned
Reduced all but to a desolate bed of frozen smouldering ashes
The End
He sweetly serenades me 'til we fall asleep.
He is truly the one whom I want to keep.
He captivates me so much, I cannot speak.
His voice soothes me to point I am so meek.
He lets me hold him in my arms so closely.
He rests his face upon my bosom tenderly.
He is so beautiful, especially as he sleeps.
His presence as warm as tea which steeps.
He softly sings to me and if I know the song,
We sing and realize to each other we belong.
We show each other true love in every way.
We wish to be together every day, someday.
We have met many times before this life,
Why we know how to resolve every strife.
We lived so similarly, though separately,
And now we met, we are no longer lonely.
In the garden of flickering neon trees,
where shadows dance with marionette leaves,
I met a man with a clockwork heart
and eyes like prisms, tearing time apart.
He whispered secrets in a language of static,
his voice a symphony of glitches and clicks,
telling tales of constellations uncharted,
and love letters written in binary scripts.
We wandered through a labyrinth of velvet mist,
where fish flew by on currents of twilight,
and the moon sang lullabies to sleeping stars,
cradled in the arms of endless night.
I found a river of liquid glass,
where thoughts flowed like mercury streams,
reflecting the dreams of forgotten gods,
and the echoes of interstellar dreams.
A carousel spun in an abandoned carnival,
each horse a phantom of forgotten lore,
and as I rode, the world unraveled,
a tapestry of surrealist decor.
In the distance, a cathedral of crystal,
its spires piercing the fabric of reality,
and inside, a choir of silent voices,
harmonizing in spectral duality.
When dawn broke, the mirage faded,
leaving only a trace of whispered winds,
and I awoke, clutching fragments of visions,
in the realm where the surreal begins.
:: 05.17.2024 ::
(c) 2024 EP Robles