Long Bine Poems
Long Bine Poems. Below are the most popular long Bine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bine poems by poem length and keyword.
Sans Whole Body Out Of Country Transplant
hmm...methinks mebbe aye
can empty the ocean
one teaspoon at time bine bye
and after about
a bajillion years cry
tears of joy, when mine
petrified organs of sight decry
solid sea floor to mud dill
across to Iceland eye
would readily forsake
United States citizenship,
and buzzfeed akin to a human fly
hooping genuine emotional
physical, or spiritual
philanthropic gratuity
could be accepted
'pon being bequeathed
from this guy
'course after friendly
bantering initiated with "hi"
and once settling upon lingua franca
as modus operandi
this wholesome casual
conversant chap would appeal
himself as (non GMO gluten, and
monosodium glutamate free) bonemeal
suitable *****sapien reserved
quite pleasingly congenial
to shake hands after
mutual agreement reached,
whereby roundly accepted
apprenticeship contractual stipulations
understood asper "Art of the deal,"
an awesomely empyreal
corroborate burning man
Matthew Scott Harris
in effigy "FAKE"
immolation funereal
faux "cremation ashes"
topped with goldenseal
thee initial process
to detox and psychologically heal
from Trump Bite US strain A
(or alternate spelling
D. trump pen lumpen throat
or a similar
facsimile concocted "FAKE"
illness thereof - NOT IDEAL
for man, woman, or child,
who quickly become fodder material
(a bio-hazard devastating
entire folks future generations genetics)
symptoms easily mis
taken for nasopharyngeal
infection, where optimal
cure comprises bland oatmeal
with jelly beans, thus I app peal
to provide sanctuary else this real
threat to life and limb
will find me to suffer fools
unless via quaffing hemlock
rigor mortis from grim reaper ICE steal!
In a far off field are dark green blades growing and a lovely daisy nodding,
In a far off meadow a king-cup stands there, with a yellow primrose so fair,
In a far off glade there is green grass growing, there I will rest my feet,
A warm bright sun shines in the sky and a warm breeze closes my tired eyes.
The grass in the glade is sweet and long, softer better than any noble bed,
And the sweetness of the grass and the warm sun made me dream many dreams,
Then suddenly awakened by the low roar from from a waterfall from far away,
I realized it was raining and the noise was from a thousand drops on leaves.
Now standing under a tree the rain is soft and gentle, gracious and warm,
New life came into me as I stand beneath an oak tree listening to gentle winds,
The steady rain wets meadows and mead's, down through cracks in the peat,
It travels underground meeting the other raindrops to flow as spring water.
Clear springs are feeding the runners, swelling brooks making its way to rivers,
There are silver drops on the glade flowers and trees, far away faint rainbow,
The sun returns, the bright beams reflects from the wet grass as little prisms,
And a bine of crow's-foot entangled in the branch of an elder tree, glistened.
In a far off field are dark green blades growing and a lovely daisy nodding,
In a far off meadow a king-cup stands there, with a yellow primrose so fair,
In a far off glade there is green grass growing, there I will rest my feet,
A warm bright sun shines in the sky and a warm breeze closed my tired eyes.
The grass in the glade is sweet and long, softer better than any noble bed,
And the sweetness of the grass and the warm sun made me dream many dreams,
Then suddenly awakened by the low roar from from a waterfall from far away,
I realized it was raining and the noise is from a thousand drops on leaves.
Now standing under a tree the rain is soft and gentle, gracious and warm,
New life came into me as I stand beneath the oak listening to gentle winds,
The steady rain will wet meadows and mead's, down through cracks in the peat,
It will travel underground meeting other raindrops and flow as spring water.
Clear springs feeding the runners, swelling brooks make their way to rivers,
There are silver drops on the glades flowers and trees and far away is a rainbow,
The sun returns, the bright beams reflect off the wet grass as little prisms,
And a bine of crow's-foot entangled in the branch of an elder tree glistens.
A delusory pleasure bristled the solitary abator
And the dusky night rides down the sky
An ethereal beauty demoed with her au naturel demeanor
The solitary abator bumps with illusions, thus far realisms high.
Elated with red-hot mysticisms the abator closed his eyes
And mildly felt the zephyr over the mum wispy time
She reposed in her bareness beside his devout envies
The abator fluffed up ca-cacing his limbs to ease with spirit and bine.
An awaited soul perked up with flavour of lust and zeal
And the midnight silence prolonged to be livening with insidiousness
She abreast herself over his frvid spirit of unreal
The abator matte-up bosoming her with barmy tenderness.
The ravenous abator intimated himself in the same state of bareness
And the dark moonless night beamed with perfect ecstacy and elan
She ooohed legalizing the demon-ridden enduringness
The abator held himself with an abrupt spasmodic movement of his organ.
The wonky estrus abator coaxed himself with the pleasure of onanism
And the gentle breeze was felt to soothe the pragmatism
Slowly her au naturel beauty faded, idling the eroticism
Bequeathing the abator's midnight oneirism.
Apprenticed to enamoring aviary, Love's cerebral chords to refine
To interpret the alluring tones in each, captivating line
Overhead, a snow white dove in the pure light doth shine
Innocent libido's inhibitions to illumine
On silted ground, turtle doves in beautiful harmony fealty bine
Every silky neck strand in seamless congruence to twine
In enchanting Lilac tree, song birds in melodic chorus rhapsody pine
The titillating rhythms of amorous romance to define
On fibrous pulp, wood peckers their virile aspirations sign
Artfully tracing each groove on hull bared and supine
In golden pond, nubile swans in tantric dance align
With graceful movements gently stirring the foamy brine
Hovering , humming birds' wings vibrate o'er suckling vine
Then with salivating tongues on frothy nectar dine
At dusk, Nightingales' guttural groans in palpitating soliloquy whine
The moonbeam's enticing spell on unwitting lovers to assign
Ebony-caped crows bellow bewitching chants o'er listless ravine
Each ingratiated soul with lustful thoughts to incline
Stealthy hawk with piercing eyes each svelte fiber doth divine
Then with dexterous agility swoops down on silky ermine
STALKER (I Got A Crush On Velvet) by James Edward Lee Sr.
Hush, don't talk;
Allow me too cross the line;
As I come to you I walk;
I cry, and yes I bine;
Hoping, developing;
Poking, enveloping;
I'm not a stalker I got a crush on Velvet;
And this love for you never shall regret;
Trying to find the common ground;
Wandering and wondering the right time;
As I pray within the night;
You'll continue to come around;
This will be so right;
Don't be so blind;
I'm not a stalker I got a crush on Velvet;
And this love for you never shall regret;
I come to you with open arms;
Oh, I'm confessing my love;
Please don't rebuke my charms;
I wish just to be only yours;
Allow me to continue to adore you;
Instead of me just viewing from afar, boo;
I'm not a stalker I got a crush on Velvet;
And this love for you never shall regret;
I long for you;
I promise to be ever true;
I love you;
Honey hush;
I got a big old crush;
On you girl whose name is Velvet;
I'm not a stalker I got a crush on Velvet;
FOR CONTEST: Stalker
Sponsored by> Silent One
The Ash has died, bare-branched
Throughout this summer.
Odin's gallows, Dreamin' Tree,
Died back like every other.
Though autumn leaves begin their fall
Bare Ash stands like a Christmas tree
Embraced, entwined, adorned
With greening from another.
Wisteria's bine has jumped the gap
Between the gardens at the back
To cover Ash tree to its top
To all the world alive, but not.
Half way up this dreamin' tree
A pigeon mounts his mate
A fourth or fifth time in this day
Though autumn's love is late
And well before the Spring.
Corvid's watching blue-winged Jay
Sits low upon his gallow branch,
Planning how to rob their nest
To scalp its precious fledgling squabs
Before they're raised as offspring.
These clatter doves with life long
Mates make glimpse of love's display
But all of God's creation groans
Awaiting when that final day
Finds freedom from frustration
With birth pangs of a better way
And longed for last redemption.
Come on life , come
fill my heart
a drop of emotion...!
The black centered eye
i was arrested by put piece of shadow
spreading seven colors.
Relationship nailed in heart wall.
Bend the memory bine
Lage head down to a deep drop
birth to dry heart, spark the eye water
I step like river!
Shadow river run in the ocean heart
Almost hit by wave of wing struck the mind
Open your heart
I can drop half of my sorrow
Open up your life
I can drop tear sea ..!
If memories covered with aculeus
love to cuddle me tied shoulders
Crash the callus formed hollow bones
Give strength my rusty arms...!
On my slender face half of new moon shadow
Spread me half of your happiness
Let lough happiness line If have time
Let them flow wrinkle channels if have Location.
Griefed emotions inside the heart
this goes much deeper drop fence around
Let them again suffered days
Let the color buried dreams....!
-Ravi B.N.Murnad,INDIA
Undeva departe
Emo?iile ?i-au facut adapost
Afara ploua ?i e frig..
Ele, tremura, sperând la un anotimp mai bun
Înainte de pisc, au fost îndrumate de un calugar
El le-a urnit din loc ?i le-a dat direc?ia spre Vârful Exprimarii
Dar când au ajuns acolo, le-a parasit cum s-a înnoptat
Iar ele înca se întreaba daca e pentru ca a ajuns sa le cunoasca
Tremurând, î?i spun pove?tile lor personale
De la întâmplari fericite ?i pâna la trairi terifiante
?i în tot acest timp afara e bezna
Iar ploaia devine zapada
Diminea?a vine cu o întrebare:
"Ramânem pe Vârful Exprimarii sau coborâm în Valea Reprimarii?"
Acolo în vale este cald ?i tihna.
Nu e nicio durere, dar ?i nicio placere.
Oare cum e mai bine?
Aici sau acolo? Acum sau mai încolo?
Oare mai au o cale? O cale ?esuta din pove?tile pe care tocmai ?i le-au spus?
Dupa ce au fugit de Valea Reprimarii ?i au suferit pe Vârful Exprimarii, care e calea catre Marele Echilibru Interior?
Candva am stiut
exact de cate ori vreau
sau trebuie
sa-mi indoi hartia de impachetat
inainte sa trimit
un colet social.
Pe vremuri, hartia
era atat de importanta,
uneori la fel de importanta ca si continutul,
iar livrarea- momentul-
urmaream sa fie perfecta.
De-alungul anilor
am avut indoituri,
linii, urme, scris frumos si
chiar si rupture. Ce bine ca exista scotch!
Desene, mai rar…
Trecutul meu emotional
tot pe hartie
l-as asterne daca pachetul de azi
nu ar carboniza
insasi mainile care incearca
sa inghesuie Totul si Nimicul
intr-o cutie singulara.
Pentru fiecare intrebare
pe care am sters-o mai mult sau mai putin constient,
pentru fiecare umbra lasata de colturi ,,nota bene”,
pentru fiecare taietura incapatanata
ce-mi forta vindecarea din ore in zile,
pentru toate
vreau sa materializez acum,
inainte sa ma ridic cu picioarele de pe pamant,
un ultimatum:
"Let it burn!"