Long Beaut Poems
Long Beaut Poems. Below are the most popular long Beaut by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Beaut poems by poem length and keyword.
Loverboy staring out the window, the stars gleaming so prettily
The meadow's bathing in silver light of the moon; it is such a perfect night
Loverboy sighs at the darkness, candlelight dimming as the wind blows
The night of love is here with me. I have found the one to call my own.
Dear dear what is your wish, I shall give you the moon or the stars or the sun
I have known you since before I knew, that such a feeling can fill my heart
Loverboy looks at the sky he clasps his hands and bows his head
The night of desire is here with me, I shall ask her to be my love
Sweet sweet boy runs through the tallest grass, past the willow where he fell in love
Loverboy jumps over the little brook, where he met his friend and now his passion
Past the pine forest, loverboy flies, by the trees his love adores
Into the village, he skids and trips into others with their halfs under the skies of love.
Loverboy soars above the sky, conjuring a future where she becomes his, and he becomes hers
He dares not think of negative thoughts, deluded and delirious he imagines and dreams
Sweet boy turns a corner and two, colliding and pushing through the others who make him hope
One more corner, one more turn soon he'll be in his lover's arms
At the corner of his eye he sees a beaut, robes and ribbons fluttering softly in the wind
No doubt in his mind as fresh vanilla hits his nose, that his sweetheart is out in the night of love
But as the loverboy is about to run to her, he sees a man's hand entwined with hers
The way she looks at him and he looks at her, is the embodiment of the night of love
The loverboy stares- his love in love with another man
Slowly he turns his head to face away, he cannot bear the pain
He bows his head, dares not to look at the sky that gave him hope and filled his heart.
Through the village, past the pine forest,over the brook, past the willow he fell in love, he swims through the grassy field back to the window
Loverboy looks at the sky one more time, the brilliant stars look hazy and unrefined
One drop, two drops the tears well in his eyes, wets his cheeks and pools under his chin
Was I too late in making my feelings known? To whom shall I give the stars and moon?
Sweet boy closes his window unable to look, at the night of love and of desire
Pendelum to see the unsee able bug…
Driven mad inside your head
Mites a dancing in your bed
Toss it out also the pillow
Slept in tent wind was chilly
Tropical fowl mites so minute
Can’t really see them, not so beaut
Love to hang around your neck
Sticky tape will catch to check
Rats had got into my ceiling
Itchy bird lice I’m a feeling
Bombed the ceiling killed the lice
They came to see me once or twice
House infested with the mites
4 times sprayed, still had lice
Though they were gone
Felt them jumping still
Live nightmare unbelieveable
Pendulum I asked to see
If the mites were biting me
Is it now my imagination
Yes it said, mind elevation
So I checked each room
Divined and killed these bugs so soon
Little lesson have I learned
Trust a pendelum in me burned!....Don Johnson
I have been using a pendulum to identify where the mites are in my ceiling and the floor of the house….A pendulum can be a needle with a bit of thread held over a drawing of a room with the bed etc in it.. I use a clockwise circle as yes{as the clock hands move }and anticlock circle as no..If the pendulum moves just up and down no circle it means they are dead..YOU MAKE THE RULES FOR YOURSELF…I mark an x where the bugs are and spray them. Sometimes you feel the pull of the needle when your soul is showing you a spot yes.
This is just the same stuff as when you are divining water, and works on the invisible.
IT DOES WORK your higher self gives advice if you want it?
At 10 pm last night I tried the pendulum and found a clockwise circle in the room , so I sprayed the area…and went to bed…
At 2am I thought I was being invaded by itchy buggers felt small bites and became so convinced agitated I got up and went to the toilet…Coming back I asked the pendulum was it real And got no…I checked the bed area and the room by pendulum and got NO… bloody neurosis imagination I have been driven from my bed a dozen times before and spent bad nights …but the pendulum doesn’t lie….so convinced by the pendulum I went back to bed and slept till 7.30am…to see the unseeable….
Don Johnson April 16 2009
Is Mc'quarie bank loosing the plot? as it dreams gray digits
And attempts in fact a blot.! To remove the lifelines of cheuqe and cash, that bedrock.' Australia this is like a sneak attack smash grab.?
From surfers to cockys, townspeople.. All walks' if you are
Honest you'll agree (cash talks) it talks to me of an impulse
Spend' a day on the beach..Would sure make amends! for
Drab old lockdowns as davos ordered..Give me an ice cream
Sundae or a real good steak and large chip order.! With a little cash stash
Maybe I'd buy a new ute.? Or a vintage monaro on the road
Would be beaut.! Remember Peter Brock and Alan Moffat? the
Speedway duels each try'n to grab it' like rockets! that Bathurst 5000
Had!
Duck hunting season, the outside fires and laughs with
Some reason.' Hard men at work.' Yet who'd clown and play
Many minds alike are my thoughts today.? Yet its still there
I reckon.?? (THAT AUSSIE SPIRIT.) women and men who have
No limit 'who'll sleep out under the southern cross, whose
Eyes are sharp whose hands will turn, the wheel of life
Till the axle burns.' Their forbears cut the ironbarks down, they split
Rocks! drove the roads ( they played their part ) in heat and cold! and many of
Whom though were of limited script..Yearned for better and
Provided it.' Their sweat built Monash.' They inspired so
Many.' Now rise bronzed nation and don't take any.' Any more
B S... I say search your thoughts.!! And sidline those who
Were cheaply bought! Remove the cowards; the double
Minded.' And show this world that Aussie itself, again is finding! Your
Fame is waiting to be reprized! take the initiative all stand strong!
Front and sides..' sing out to each other' work to help like Simmo did.' Yet here on your own land' protecting the women and kids!
Support the true medics like Brighthope and Hobart
Listen to John Staoleton his journalisam is also part.'
Call out the ones who did you wrong, its all on the line now.!
Don't let it go, for just; a sad old cracked song!
There is no place for me to go
I'll spend my life right here I know,
I lost my job then lost my dough
Last night I lost my bride with adio'!
I stayed the straight and narrow road,
And carried, always, my own load.
Missed not a day of work, I'm told,
For twenty years. No pocket watch of gold?
It tore my heart apart you see;
They threw me out then tossed the key
Without a nod to loyalty
Or help me find a job at fifty-tjree.
So now I'm standin' over daddy's grave,
Ten days from calm to ragin' full-blown rave;
Hey daddy! I'm no good and I'm not brave
But I'll be killin' souls your God can't save:
I'm hopin for a score of fifty-three
One soul for every year of wretched me.
I do remember daddy tellin' me when I was young -
"I'm proud my son of every single song I've ever sung,
Because the wrongs I found in life to fire and ice were flung!
The Good Book said to cling to IT so to IT I have clung -
That Book was good to me young son and helped me climb each rung."
An unsophisticated man from birth until you died,
But damn it dad you took me to the brink of suicide;
I grew to be not me but you and you died satisfied.
But dad, life spent denying truth denied the Wolves outside.
I took a look at your Good Book and found profound its way -
Make sure you do to those who did to you and don't delay!
Hey dad, I thought I'd share with you, I bought my gun today
And it's a beaut you'd love to shoot and help me bag my prey;
But in the grave you stay to serve your well deserved decay.
I wish that I could do to you what I must do to them;
For you put all the evil in me I can't seem to stem.
My heart and body, now my blood, is turning pus and phlegm,
But when they're dead then I'll have fed my sweet revenge its gem,
So I can turn and kill myself and evil you did breed.
You lit your pious Book up bright, why not your evil seed?
Cara Mia
by Rick Rucker
How could it come to pass
I was viewing life through steam-ed glass?
Surely this was just not right,
Why was it in black and white?
At the time, not a notion
That it was all in slow motion!
Often in a comfort zone,
All is different when alone.
A tornado blew right through here,
Kind of scary to be near,
It took me to a place uncharted,
Breathing hard, my lips parted.
I do not know how I got here,
Is it far, or is it near?
Since I got here by a blizzard
I now must go see the Wizard!
Wizards make it all seem magic,
Even if the start be tragic.
Eye of dragon, tail of newt,
This spell is sure to be a beaut!
Before you can take the potion,
You really must cry an ocean.
Why is that, you may ask?
In self-pity you cannot bask!
Because your heart must be true,
Or it will have no effect on you,
My former one was just a token,
It didn’t work, too badly broken!
If I only had a heart,
Then I could love once more, and do art!
Hard to create artistic beauty,
If my heart won’t do its duty!
The Wizard is a fearsome being,
I was so afraid of seeing,
At first, I did not risk the sight,
Of so much penetrating light.
Is that movement behind the curtain?
There was something, that is certain!
Suddenly, my eyes did spy,
A beauty that did make me cry!
Oh, My! What has happened here?
Suddenly, my vision clear!
I feel a beating in my chest,
I now have been twice blessed!
Now I see in vibrant color,
The spectrum, at this moment, fuller!
Oh, and those lovely sounds!
Of angels singing, now surrounds
My grateful ears,
I can laugh, and fewer tears!
Could it happen just this easy,
Where I once cried, I now seem breezy!
I hope it will be ever thus,
What was “me” has morphed to “us!”
Did I ever want to be "ya?"
Not since I love Cara Mia!
After years here in the city with the constant traffic flow,
and the daily grind all based on work to have the coffers grow
or keep the kids in school and provide for what is middle class,
there needs to be an outlet where there is open space and grass.
And being brought up in the country, it is often on my mind ,
with the smell of freshly cut mown hay something never left behind,
but once the daily pressure builds up and the mental anguish grows,
it’s time to have a family day a city dweller rarely knows;
Where there is not a tram in sight or a taxi to flag down;
trains every quarter hour, or bus stops everywhere around.
But there’s a host of parks and gardens that fail to get a pass,
for they rarely are dog friendly or we must keep off the grass.
So our kids get all excited when we travel out to Grandpa’s place,
that is a block out in the country, where there’s miles of open space,
and there’s mountains in the background with a range of pristine trees …
a magic place to be and joined by native birds and honey bees.
And Grandpa’s yard is a property where the kids can run and play,
for there’s two acres mowed as lawn and nothing growing in the way.
All the native shrubs and trees encase a set out garden settee,
where we sat down together; had lunch and a lovely cup of tea.
And Grandpa’s from the old school, not like our modern family;
‘Grandma do this; Grandma do that; or get this or that for me.’
That would never work in our home, ‘you get it your bloody self!’
We treat everyone as equals, and all perch upon one shelf.
But it was alone with Grandpa that had me really shake my head,
looking at his brand new ride on mower, that is parked in a shed,
“This gadget sure is beaut” he bragged. “In no time I mow the lawn,
where it used to take your Grandma, one whole day and all next morn.”
The warm sand trickled through my fingers.
I wriggled my toes and felt no shoes.
Opening my eyes and quickly closing them.
The bright sun blinded me for a moment.
The gentle ripple of waves lapping the shore.
I sat up from my sandy resting place.
The day was hot and the air was so fresh.
I still had my party clothes on, and what was this?
A note in my pocket, scribbled on crumpled paper.
It read: What a gr8 party, Welcome to our tropical isle, please stay.
Slowly my eyes focused. I read a sign SWIM BETWEEN THE FLAGS
Shaking the sand off me as I stood, I tried to make out where I was.
Still groggy from those wonderful cocktails last night,
I vaguely remembered being too smashed to drive.
Not to worry, I am unharmed and had a great time.
It’s a beaut day, and this beach is pretty amazing.
I picked up my shoes laying beside me, heels weren’t for the beach.
Wandering along the shoreline, the cool wet sand underfoot.
A familiar sign on the life guard’s club house read :
Queensland, beautiful one day perfect the next. The Gold Coast
Laughing, I ran across the warm sand to the street.
Time to walk half a mile back to where the party was to collect my car.
I was in my own beautiful wonderful tropic Island.
Palm trees lining the beaches, sunny days on golden sand.
Amazing animals found nowhere else, tropical fruit, and coconuts,
Bananas and mangos and pineapple and my favorite pawpaw.
Clean clear water from our dams, friendly multicultured folk,
Cute lifesavers, Oh no way would I ever want to leave here !
So proud of my Australian, tropical island home.
1) MENTAL STORMS
I am not a poet
I have never claim to be
I only write down my feelings
Because it helps me mentally
It was kept a secret for years
never for others to see
A personal world
Where I keep my memory's
Focusing so hard
It's like I'm eating them on TV
dealing with the loss of a love one
Can come in all shapes and all forms
I just personally found writing to be
The way
That helps tackle my personal mental storms
You see when the storm peaks full force
it's has no remorse
It transfers lightning bolts of pain shattering strain electrifying the vains as it travels besides the bloods course
Then the pain inflames the brain
as it test the human frame
to see if you can regain
the inner strength to remain
strong enough to maintain
as you cope with the constant strain of handling one of life's cruelest games
So I don't care if my English is not the correct grammar
That really isn't my concern
The fact is I'm actually thick as when it comes to understanding all the proper punctuational terms
I don't write down my feeling for anyone to grade
I don't write them down for attention or praise
I don't care for the spelling mistakes or the ink stained tears that phase the page
Cause when I'm writing
half the time my hand barley keeps up pace
Often the tears flow blocking my vision as I scribble down words like an emotional race
But like any storm
They always pass through
Some are worse then others
But eventually the sky returns blue
As the sun comes out from behind its covers
So as the wind howls hard
the rain beaut down
It's a case of if you want to survive the mental storm
Or admit defeat and drown in your frown
William light
sleeping (( COLLABORATION * Don Johnson ))
by~ DON JOHNSON
The Nullabor it does abhor
the desert in it standing
The broken heart
he keeps apart
where Eagles are a landing
kangaroo is prolific cos good seasons bring in millions
they shoot them for the last hundred years,
Hoppy is still there in millions
Almost a plague after rain
The cure the joy the madness ploy, just catch a little Shiela
but broken hearts tend to self destroy
The one true love, to feel her
so searching for the lock of eyes upon the Nullabor
kangaroo does abound, dead straight the road for sure
Ironic tale sour grapes inhale,
He sleeps upon the plain
his swag is near the old Ute, and the dog is ever watchful
his protector is a beaut
~civilization calls~
he has to go back to the city streets
And searching ever searching for the eyes of lady sweet.
***by~ POET D:
Searching and searching till weak eyes fall asleep.
~civilization calls~
Calls the plague of raining streets!
The sleeping kangaroo took me into the abyss of sour grapes.
A wildlife with wildfire turned over by wildflowers.
Seascapes; full of sand that no one dared to understand!
Drowning underwater in a universe that had no expand.
Where the passer-by's felt the expression of sadness in his sleeping face.
All it took was experiencing the world with one lonely look.
A grain of salt, in the night sky!
Where clouds ‘walk-sneak and / clouds-cry like a whirlpool’,
Tears from a near by fountain deep in a valley.
Where we can sing for roo's sleeping heart.
Death in a wild flower mourning asleep on the hour.
Seeing’ is believing when Shiela appeared.
Drying tears with her sweet eyes over the desert lands.
A Collaboration with *DON JOHNSON
~MY COLLABORATION CONTEST~
The Red Devil Bronco Johnson 1950-2007
Oh he blew into Toowoomba in 1972
The GTHO Ford was firing left black tracks on bitumen too
Laid 200 feet of rubber they were still smoking in the street
When the coppers came to look he’d been and gone a red streak
The police they asked a local who he was and where he’d gone,
Heard he’d be back in Brisbane now the low flying Ford flashed on ..
Back in Brissy he then got another car
and came to the 5ways at the Gabba hoorah. (Brisbane Cricket ground Gabba)
A copper was a dancing cos he’d run over his right foot
Dickie Daniels was on point duty had a blister black and beaut
(Policeman Dickie was famous at the Gabba)
Him and I were in an accident at Forest Glen
2 cars destroyed in 75 I had some few bones to mend
The red Ford Escort was a flash, at 90 miles an hour
Old Holden died on impact but we lived still had the power
Mark and Wayne and I, we lived one time together
Sometimes Mark or Wayne had our Jane depending on the weather
Went to parents without parteners, others came also my brother
Mark went home with one shiela and Wayne he caught another
So Wayne was a telling me a Chris lived with his new girlfriend
I said I’d win her sight unseen, it happened and then
Mark went back to Jane I moved in with Christine
Stayed together 22 years my path was surely green (lovely woman)
You couldn’t track the Red Devil he’d learnt his craft too well
Just down the road he would wander, maybe Jonny White for a spell
Sometimes you would see him and sometimes gone and then
Down the road again , down the road again , down the road again …
Don Johnson……