Long Be amiss Poems
Long Be amiss Poems. Below are the most popular long Be amiss by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Be amiss poems by poem length and keyword.
I searched 'ere the dawn, where could it have gone,
for now, it possesses me, as a mystery, till dawn met me.
I've no rhyme or reason that a loved entity goes awry,
having to comb with despair and melancholy choking air,
hence, I must cease or I will be deceased. I choose to
be, than not to be, mid the numbers of worth--counting.
Now that I've deduced the severance of said company,
to be amiss, or, lost as in unrecoverable. So, I will forge
ahead, much like this climbing star training its new day
as it's backpacking a whole quarter welcoming--it's Fall.
Oh my, much ado has gone awry, high and low, 'neath a
crooked sky. My thorough efforts abandoned my fruit of
labor, with harvest ripening fields, and the forests crispy
hues. I have forsaken a driven entity that proposes life.
A ray of hope, beaming from a drifting star hovering over
the lost, now found. There is still a sliver of time enough.
I must tighten the notches so that its stretch will be of
favor to the distant ones who'll all rise across the seven
seas, for I am the soloist. The powers that made me, an
Indian, task Summer to stay awhile to hear my drumbeat.
I would be amiss if I didn't acknowledge these
Reptiles in our fairy tales are real.
They're not fictionist.
This is so surreal.
I have something to reveal
Dragons do Exist!
I would be amiss if I didn't acknowledge these
Reptiles in our fairy tales are real.
I think it's a big deal
Because we coexist.
This is so surreal
These creatures have a magical and historical
Appeal.
Dragons live in South Africa, Indonesia, India,
Philipines, Malaysia, Southeast Asia, and in
Tropical rain forests in mist.
I would be amiss if I didn't acknowledge these
Reptiles in our fairy tales are real.
This is a big ordeal
I had to spread the news. I couldn't resist.
This is so surreal.
How do you feel?
To know this is not a gist.
I would be amiss if I didn't acknowledge these
Reptiles in our fairy tales are real.
This is so surreal.
I resume the world soap,
'Cos by celestials' rule i cannot cope.
Bind i myself to this world by luxury rope,
That by faith i'll be firm,even if a slope.
And to all my crafts entrusted and dope!
I will return never to that hood,
Neither will i to the beggars nude.
For to them was i presented as a food,
A flesh in their midst is qualified to be
consumed.
For that did i all myself seek good.
I'll retreat to the king's abode,
And will in anxiety and curiosity a-rode.
That i before him will again be a-mould.
That if peace tarry not,joy will be to me a-
load.
And to luxury will i eternally unfold.
Wealth,luxury,Grace,Joy,money,
Honour,heights in my lodge be.
Strife,death,indecisions,menace,worry,
Loadgers,panicking,illness,perish be.
From me an to me; Reads; pleasant thrills.
Clays,mortal,pestals; my guards are,
Iron,metals,gun are from me far.
For they to human world sketch scar,
And on destruction were they a star.
Let the formers be found with the potter.
I am what i choose to be,
A Potter,that'll all wealth fix.
That if joy and hope be amiss,
Or if they be slack; mend be.
That if Joy,peace and hope did slack,they'll
be mend by me.
I'm a potter,
To all slacks; an answer.
I'm the mending panther.
Moulding mortals,
The pot-ting Potter.
I AM
c.2017
Outcasts
Come; hear ye outcasts,
Ye lost in the shuffle,
You are chosen among those fighting,
for rank in the scuffle.
Your undying pursuit, though seemingly at a distance.
The unrelenting passion, fueling without resistance.
Come; hear ye rejected,
Cut from the mold of a different kind,
Says the Master of the banquet,
“Gather them all, they shall be mine.”
While never striving for position or the favored attention,
The last shall be first at His Majesty’s convention.
Escape to love, all ye dejected, love for you, meant everything,
Greater than the scorn you bore, for mere acceptance and love,
you would have given anything.
Your precious pearls were trampled,
under feet of the heart of swine,
But says the Master of the table,
compel them to come, now, they are mine.
Come; ye outcasts,
Ye forgotten children of the King
You are the elect, faithful, and the chosen,
He has heard your cries, your suffering.
You are gathered from the low roads,
the streets, prisons, and the bars,
placed at the forefront of many battles,
to win so many unseen wars.
Your story, is chosen for His glory,
His glory will never be amiss,
Your gifts the unknown allegory
For such a glorious time as this.
I'm starting to feel that some thing major may be amiss,
when I asked myself this am where is my water dish.
I truly love dogs but currently own none.
Could it be possible that I am turning into one?
I enjoy my exercise and like to eat alot.
Some days I now pant, especially when it's hot.
Most mornings I'm energetic but later my energies zapped.
I'll curl up with a book and take an afternoon nap.
My skin is dry and itchy.
I thought it allergies.
Could it be that some thing else is going on with me?
I love to greet people where ever I go.
I really hope I don't wag my tail to and fro.
They say that a dog lives seven years to are one,
so if I'm now a dog this life is more then done.
"There are fairies at the bottom of my garden"...from a song by Noel Coward.
In gardens, glens, and forest glades
That oft great banquet halls resemble,
On a summer's night,
If the moon is bright,
One might see fairy folk assemble.
One night, by purest happenstance,
I chanced by one such congregation.
I stood bespelled
At what I beheld
To be a fairy celebration.
But something seemed to be amiss,
Their demeanor was alarming.
No joyful tunes
Or ribald runes,
These fairy folk were mourning.
As I strained to hear, quite suddenly,
I kenned why they were grieving.
They keened and cried,
A fairy died
Because a human stopped believing.
It's no supernatural malady
Or some mysterious psychosis.
How fairies thrive
And stay alive
Is by simple symbiosis.
They need us to believe in them
To keep their ranks from falling.
And, yes, it's true,
We need them, too,
So listen for their calling.
May I never grow too old to dream,
May my heart, with age, not harden.
Then they'll not grieve
Whilst I believe
In the fairies in my garden.
I can hear their haunting music now,
Tantalizing and pulsating.
I must away,
I cannot stay,
My fairy folk are waiting.
My life is always in a mess,
Something must be amiss,
I'm not living the ordinary,
Things happening contrary,
It all began when I was young,
A better life I always yearn,
Nothing seem to add up,
All my life is ed d up.
Left right and center,
Every place I enter,
All I get is a blow,
When will my star glow,
I'm now fit to be independent,
But I still remains dependent,
I cant tell where I went wrong,
My days and nights too long,
Where there's a will there's away,
Dear God let your will be done your way,
Let this not happen to any other,
Neither should I see another.
@Tha Formidable Cheru.
#themonk.
Pirates often take grapes from vines
When the fruits of love taste so divine
Ownership is of no concern
They bury treasures later upturned
They make cryptic maps, with subtle glues
They sail their ships, filled with booze
Wine, woman and song, their daily pleasure
Some would say, is that not the treasure?
If a woman would give you a kiss
Would not all treasure be amiss?
For real treasures you keep in your heart
And never let real lovers to part!!
Oh but a treasure map is and enticing thought
If it leads to places you thought naught
So here I lay a treasure before you
Never has a golden treasure been so true
As you
No walls beat; it is the heart within my own chest.
Turn the key; open wide; you look a bit distressed.
The pulse inside my own chest, a throbbing mess.
Pick it up; won’t you massage it with finesse?
Your lips are red and trembling dear; say something.
Something seems to be amiss from your wan coloring.
Surely you recall when you broke it; I saved it,
Just so we might stroll heart to heart into the pit.
Dear, don’t look so dully afraid; turn the music key;
It’s our song. You don’t recall our breakup melody?
I know the heart looks cruelly bruised and irregular;
for a regular guy who’s tender, isn’t it spectacular?
I know you’d curse, if your lips weren’t burning blue.
Poor baby, it gets worse, you’re invited to a barbeque.
I’m sorry I curse at you with every breath.
I’m sorry I sometimes wish you death.
I’m sorry I’m not the daughter you wanted.
I’m sorry your dreams for me are haunted.
I’m sorry I detest STEM.
I’m sorry I love what you condemn.
I’m sorry you got kids you didn’t want.
I’m sorry I’m not someone you can flaunt.
I’m sorry for a great many things,
but I’m not sorry for everything.
I’m not sorry for wanting to be better than you
I’m not sorry for wanting a heart so true
I’m not sorry for not chasing success
I’m not sorry my life isn’t a game of chess
I’m not sorry for pointing out your flaws
I’m not sorry your preferences aren’t laws
I’m not sorry for having a favorite parent
I’m not sorry mom’s love for me is apparent
I’m sorry for a whole lot
but for everything, apparently not
I hope someday we can laugh about this
and that our relationship won’t be amiss.
I do love you dad
You just make me really sad