Long Basque Poems
Long Basque Poems. Below are the most popular long Basque by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Basque poems by poem length and keyword.
Dear Santa
I’m writing early this year
Especially after the debacle of last year
You delivered the sexy underwear and the two-day hotel break to my wife
What the hell were you thinking
Does my wife look like she can get into a size ten
You useless fat bastard
Two days I had to suffer the wife parading herself
It was psychological torture
Swear to god, if I could’ve got my hands on you
Still swithering on suing your fat ass
This year I’m going to lay it on the line
Deliver it to the wrong address
Your Ho ho ho, will be, Oh oh oh
Do I make myself clear
Now listen up
Face pack and support tights
They go to the wife
Basque and French knickers, hotel included
To the lover
Don’t make me go back to that hotel with the wife
Or, I swear, you’ll be wearing those reindeers
Do you need a reminder
Have you got it now
Oh, and merry Christmas.
Young Emily sat gazing at a door, that with careful strokes was painted..
a starry, but moonless night.
In wandering dreams of far away lands, nameless artist unacquainted,
she wond'red what lay beyond the door held tight.
Her knees, now drawn together, gently touched beneath her chin,
were clasped by all ten fingers,
cloaked in silky smooth skin.
Just then did the door utter softly, three words from four worldly tongues...
in Mandarin, Hindi, Gaelic, and Greek, as if from heroes long dead and unsung...
Though Emily sat listening to each word that was spoken,
she understood not even one,
languages left old, yet unbroken,
from under a forgotten Sun.
Like a great bard the door, in even older languages said aloud.
In Tamil, Persian, Hebrew, Irish, and Basque...
As if finally by fate the three words "Please open me" were endowed...
Emily, now standing, said...
"You needed only to ask".
Life might be an enigma wrapped in life , full of intrigue and an abundance of riddles to entice the spirit and the mind .
It is a hallmark on the soul that invites all to basque in its array of forums , thus fuels the the fire in the abyss of the heart in kind .
Full of dreams and nightmares , wishes , truths and lies , this brings forth the might of an iron will .
Where in the conception of this immaculate design , allows one to be ensconced in the fulfillment of freedom to infinity or when time stands still .
Life has wonders and heart ache , life can be dark but one can wield the sword of love to make it shine like the most precious of gems .
It grows like a majestic oak seeded by a single acorn , as time goes on in this tree of life that is renewed in its vastness in which it stems .
It may be a plight , fight or flight , on the stage of life the mirror wears many faces .
A story of many pages that is an everlasting odyssey, for some a rigorous drama , for some a tremendous ease that was set through its paces .
Life will set sail in a vessel of emotions that cascades over wave after wave to the journeys end .
A world of fantasy or contradictions , it’s peacefulness that conquers the latter , caring and kindness is the way it mends .
Like a whirling dervish the winds blow life and scatters it like pixie dust .
The undeniable moral of this allegory is that we alone make it what it is and in this we trust
Semi naked she stands
In her stockings and basque
Long black velvet gloves
Being sensuous is her task
Her long black flowing hair
Cascades down her back
Her beauty captures all
There's no lack of that
She has me on my knees
Kissing her black leather boots
Luring me into temptation
To savour in our fruits
Her body pert and proud
As tattoo's grace her skin
For we join in another adventure
Like the playing of a fine violin
Our music starts to play
Heart strings touched and tuned
Orchestral in join
Like the earth and the moon
Our passioned ensemble
Creating notes of joy
The meandering of our hands
In continuous employ
Our music plays for hours
So many many songs
Stockings, basque, tattoo's and music
All night long
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-6.php
Sitting outside a cafe as I watch the world go by,
Then from out the blue is that really you, as again her eyes met mine.
And as we chatted on what has happened, since those long and far off days
An image of rekindle love seem just a thought away.
Memories of once forgotten time as we walked along the sane.
The gentle smells her perfume gave, still intoxicates my brain,
My mind plays like a movie with every twist of fate.
And yet the end eludes me through the thoughts I try to make,
Melodic tunes come from the streets,
Its brightly painted bars.
Like pearls the Basque on the water’s edge,
As they seem to touch the stars.
The little bistro where we sat and those gentle sips of wine.
Her youthful playful nature we thought we’d have the time,
But war its head then lifted and all our world turned grey.
Like a knife that stabs right to the heart our world now ripped away,
A hand across the table, then reaches out for mine,
Transported in an instant back from that void in time.
Her body seems to tremble so, hit by the evening air,
As I drape my coat around her but she says she doesn't care.
My mind keeps coming back to why I let her go,
With hopes of what the night would bring and some answers it might show.
Back at her apartment she offers me a drink,
We settle on the sofa to reminisce and think.
The feelings that we once had, could stand the test of time,
Regrets and broken promises, again as lovers we entwine.
N Windle © 20017
I’ve not written to you for many years
Santa, I’m quite different from my peers
Not fancy or frilly like girly girls
And I don’t hanker for diamonds and pearls
Today I got the most terrible news
My muse abandoned me. She's on a cruise!!!
She’ll be sailing around the world for years
I'm bereft and can’t stem my salty tears
Oh Santa dear, please take pity on me
I need a skilled muse to write poetry
I’m heartbroken without her by my side
Could you bring one to me on this Yuletide
It would be the most perfect Christmas gift
Please tell me that this year I won't get stiffed!
~ ~ ~ ~
You may not have my name at this address
But Santa, it’s time for me to confess
I've been on your naughty list all this year
I'm the one who put Ex Lax in your beer
And I thought while you were stuck in my loo
I'd try to tempt you in my basque of blue
But you clutched your tummy. You looked quite sick
With loo roll in hand, you ran out so quick
You chastised me as you dribbled brown gloop
Said you’d seen my name at Poetry Soup!
You'd read my poems and you wouldn't be hard
With my dire style, I’m no threat to the Bard
Last Christmas was such a catastrophe
I apologise, will you forgive me?
~ ~ ~ ~
I’ve divulged to all how I’ve misbehaved
and beg the laxative mishap be waived
(You’ve not visited since I was a child
when my behaviour ran totally wild!)
I’ve taken my punishment on the chin
Bitter medicine swallowed for my sin
If you can find forgiveness in your heart
I will try my best to make a fresh start
Santa, please deliver just one present...
A new muse would make my life more pleasant
My old one left and she might not return
My pen is poised; for witty words I yearn
A contest win with Phillip Garcia
Would rekindle my poetic career!
From My Lips To Santa's Ears Contest
Sponsored by Phillip Garcia
10 syllables per line checked with How many Syllables
12-05-17
In the Basque tongue of Spain, it means “merry festival”.
This is a very fast-paced game designed to enthrall.
Players with very long wicker baskets sling a ball
at vicious speeds to bounce off a high front fronton wall.
It is just one of many versions called “pelota”.
A goat-skin ball is volleyed with a “cesta-punta.”
It is played between teams on a court called a “cancha”.
The game draws gamblers in New England and Florida.
Plenty of excitement is there when the games begin.
The teams of players score seven or nine points to win.
To many spectators, it is exciting and fun
until they lose all their money and become undone.
pronounced "HIGH-lie"
I can still recall the look upon His face
Each thought still makes me go to that enchanting place
The vernal air was floral sweet and honey breezed
We roamed along Venice's zigzagged lanes and cobbled streets
On our secret rendezvous,We hugged affectionately under pastel gothic galleries
Greeted by the aromatic smell of freshly brewed roast coffee beans
Strolling along the pigeon-filled piazza San Marco
We wandered hand in hand,in the serenissima ancient floating land
Street musicians played their flutes.as We sat on a roof-top wooden terrace
We glanced at merchants sell hand-blown murano glass
by the picturesque Doge's palace
We ate a snack , then walked away towards the old opera house
which now has risen from its ashes.
We sauntered forward through little alleys
from where He bought me ,a gold painted venetian mask
To my surprise ,He had another gift,a wrapped up scarlet sheer laced basque
I peered at him through my dark lashes,He raised his left brow and flashed a smile
Expressed his charm in playful ways,in a flirtatious endearing style.
Boarded at last on a black gondola,cruised the lagoon and the canals
A few light kisses,a few soft brushes,waiting the bell's toll whilst in his arms
There we lay in waiting beneath the bridge of sighs
We sealed our kiss and promised lips,to the harmonic sound of chimes
He leaned on me,I welcomed Him,our spirits been entwined
Above,the sky has changed its colour,I watched the sun set in his eyes
All I am,I gave to him,my enduring heart- His sacred shrine
All that He is He gave to me in once upon a time
Not for the contest,but thanks for the 'Lovemaking in an ancient place contest,inspiration'.
This post is inspired by Ancient Venice and the tale of 'The Bridge Of Sighs'
The tale goes-If you kiss your loved one with the bell's toll of St,Mark's Basilica,
at sunset,beneath the bridge of sighs,the couple seals their love forever.
There is another tale to it,a sad one,but preferred to share the happy one : )
They say
?There are a million ways?
To say I love you
In this day and age?
I could only find
?In my computer’s brain?
The words
to say I love you?
In 53 languages
of the 10,000 languages
?Spoken on this planet
Someday I may be able
?To say the simple words
?I love you?
In all know languages?
This will have to suffice for a start
So I will say it
?Loud, and clear?
Just so you understand:
I love you (English)
Mein tumse pyar karta hoon (Hindi)
?Tu Tane prem karoo chu (Gujarati)
?Ame tomake bhalo bashe (Bengali)
?Me tula premkarto (Marati)?
Hum apse mohabbat karte hain (Urdu
?Mein thoda prem karanga (Punjabi)
?Man Dooset Daram
(Persian)
?Ana Ahabik Yanooni (Arabic)
?Havala (Hebrew)
Yongchon(Chinese)
?Aloha (Hawaian)
?Cinta(Indonesian)
?Dangshinun sarang hayo (Korean)?
Ajo (Japanese)
?Kasih (Malay)
?Phom tirak khun krap (Thai)?
Akoay Paginghe ikou (Tagalog)
?Toi yeu ong(Vietnamese)
Renmen (Creole)
?Jesuis L’amour voies(French)
?Liefdle (Flemish)
?Estoy amor tu (Spanish)?
Yosono amore tu (Italian)
?Estou o amore tu (Portugese)
Dashuri (Albanian)
?Maiteizam (Basque)?
OBHYAM (Bulgarian)
?Ljubav (Croatian)
?Laska (Czech)
?Jeger en kaerlighed du (Danish)
?Ikben houden van jig (Dutch)
?Gra (Gaelic)
?Ich bin lieben tu (German)
?Agape/eros (Greek)
?Ami (Esperanto)?
Armastama (Estonian)
?Rakam (Finish)
?Envagyok szeretet te (Hungarian)
?Elska (Icelandic)
?Ejekirin (Kurdish)
?Milestiba (Latvian)
?Meile (Lithuanian)
?Eu dragoste tu (Romanian)
?JHOBOEL Lubush (Russian)
?Elske (Norweigan)
?Easka (Slovak)?
JBYBAB (Serbian)?
Jagdan karlek du (Swedish)
?KOYATH (Ukraine)
?Benin sevi sen (Turkish)?
Ahava (Yiddish)
Ngingu u thando ungu (Zulu)
I’ve got a flat tyre.
Congratulations, hope you’ll both be very happy.
Can you fix it?
Are you going to a fancy dress party?
I’m getting married, Sherlock.
Wow, kept that quiet, who’s the poor sod.
Nigel, and I’m in a bit of a rush, so if you don’t mind.
Leave it to me, that’s what us ex’s are for. You wearing a Basque under that dress.
Is that any of your business.
Just making the usual ex’s conversation, don’t lose the garter.
Yes, it is traditional, now can you get a move on.
Can’t get the wheel off, but not to worry I’ll drive you there, wherever there is.
It’s the registry office.
Okay jump in, where’s the honeymoon.
Skegness.
You’re joking, it’s freezing in Skeggy at this time of year.
His mum died there, so it’s a sort of goodbye.
So he’s a mummy’s boy then.
He’s not a mummy’s boy, it’s just a nice thing to do.
Do you want me to walk you down the aisle?
Why the hell would I want you to walk me down the aisle, plus, there isn’t an aisle.
Just the thing ex’s do for the one they love.
Don’t you start, just get me there?
Okay, but don’t cry when I start crying.
Piss off.
Four hours later, the phone rings.
Could you come and get me?
What do you mean come and get you, you’re married?
He’s brought his mum into the bedroom.
Well you did say he’s a mummy’s boy, so he carries her ashes about, think it as something old.
She isn’t in ash form.
Jesus, tell me he didn’t get her stuffed.
She isn’t dead.
This is brilliant, only you could get married into the Münster family, send me the photos, so I can show them to the guys down the pub.
You just get down here and pick me up, this is an emergency.
Oh! I don’t know, I’m sort of liking this marriage of yours, it’s slightly weird, but in a good way.
Do you want to see what I’m wearing under this dress?
That is blackmail, will mummy in law approve of this kind of talk.
Last time, do you want to see what I’m wearing.
Bombing up the motorway as we speak.