Long Breathing room Poems
Long Breathing room Poems. Below are the most popular long Breathing room by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Breathing room poems by poem length and keyword.
I see the smile on your face,
But the truth's in your eyes.
That smile and your laugh
Are only covering up lies.
You're only playing a part,
So the truth you can hide.
But I looked into your eyes;
I see inside you've died.
A single mother with no help;
For you, life has been cruel,
Relentless with its torment,
And making you look like a fool.
You could never get a break
Or even a little breathing room.
Life just wore you down,
Making you your own tomb.
You found a way to provide,
But I see the price you paid.
If you could still feel emotions,
You know you'd feel betrayed.
You're so empty I hear the echo
From the fake laugh you give.
It breaks my heart to see this,
The way that you have to live.
Every day there're problems
You overcome and subdue.
Your kids right there watching
Completely amazed by you.
To those kids you're a hero
In their eyes you'll always be.
You battled life and the devil
And came out with a victory.
#14: Revelations 23:1
Human chain meant Starman ... breathing room trips,
H**** sapiens chose ... plus naught minus,
the apocalypse ... opts total eclipse,
self-acquaintance, he splits us, Linnaeus,
Con temporaries times, countdown it chills,
Adolph & Stalin it ticks and it tocks,
Pre temporaries times, pour down it spills,
Alexander, Khan drip sands as it stocks,
Once down on the time, leaves heaped reds and golds,
down on one-timers, the large waterholes.
Cause and effects--pause and reflect; Reserved,
Blessed manifest--Grace takes His Place; The Word.
[Bible scholars well-versed: book/chapter/verse, Reserved?]
Rising on island,
Mountain, with peaks of possibility,
Valley lush and green.
When my knees collapse, lightning and thunder -
Call it butterflies.
The palms warmed and cooled us, warned us, fooled us.
Explosive, our love -
Once conjoined, often drifting in the sea,
Eyes leaping with fire.
Hot Lava, Lover,
Have we been here before? You’re smoking hot!
Hearts of stone, lifting upwards, tears running,
Drifting on riffraff.
Outbreak of chortling might redirect winds.
La la…ooh…la la.
Sips of berries and pineapple; we share
Icy tropical
Attempts to cool things down; steam underfoot.
Ebb and flow of raft,
Seeking to poke embers - attentive ears.
Hot Lava, Lover,
Have we been here before? You’re smoking hot!
Collapse of civilization, in grass
Skirt, paradise shirt,
Atomic timing sans wearing a watch.
Heads buried in sand -
Lips meeting in molten-red, not passive,
Dirty and tender.
Swimming in sweep of lava lake, suntan-
Baked, gliding upwards,
Climactic eruption, falling with love.
Hot Lava, Lover,
Have we been here before? You’re smoking hot!
We ride the flume of volcanic weather,
Can’t raise the tall man,
Seek the insane chance of sane survival -
Valiancy in strife.
Man and wife seeking each other’s island -
Pieces fit just right.
Synchronic habitation, breathing room.
Volcano’s, how old?
In the end it shuts its mouth… a whisper
Hot Lava, Lover,
Have we been here before? You’re smoking hot!
Blue Monarch Faerie had been vacationing in the Bahamas
So relaxed and pliable now, quite unlike her double mama’s.
Just wait ‘til you get back, one said over her scratchy I-phone.
They are hovering near your mushroom, some not alone.
She was bombarded upon wakening the very next day.
They had come from field, meadow, woods, quite far away.
There was a smooth-talking snail who wanted all of her time.
He spoke in riddles, jokes, short stories, and gave her a rhyme.
Surrounded by her favorite flowers of lilies, and cone flowers too.
She decided all of this attention should be okay as admirers grew.
There were two curious squirrels and a caustic cawing blue jay.
She saw a miniature raccoon stealthily sneaking her way.
A sassy salamander and red tree frog were chirping her name.
She asked them all for some space, but they became a tight frame.
Come on! She told them. I have to have some breathing room okay?
This was her first day back from vacation. Her very first day!
kisses.
feel them
the tension and aliveness
they’re loaded with psychology and social context
its an intense observation
mouths connect our inner and outer worlds
they cross the exterior-interior divide
they’re simple forms of passion and expression
but they’re drastic and emphatic
I wrestle with wildness
I desire less breathing room, less layering
I riot with instinctive response
I long to obliterate feminine’ restraint
and share inner experience
.
.
A song for this:
Drive Me Crazy by The SoCal VoCals
Fly Into Your Arms (a cappella) by X-Cetra
Nothing Can Stop Us by Saint Etienne
Dexter John, baby calf was tuckered, he had been playing all day.
He laid down in the Kansas grass, brown enough to be harsh hay.
His fifteen-year-old human cousins picked him up without a peep.
Placed him in a green wheelbarrow, comfortable enough to sleep.
His mother was comfortable resting her teats for a little while
The sun came out and filled the sky for a delightful country mile.
Dexter John snoozed loudly, his dreams of barley, oats and hay.
He was being weaned from his mother, and this truly was the way.
Bull Daddy came across his wife, with no calf youngster by her side.
Where is Dexter John? He snorted, for Dexter was his loin-filled pride.
He’s in the barn, taking a snooze, giving me a little breathing room.
When he gets ready for some milk, he’ll be back out, probably quite soon.
The teenage boys heard Dexter John bellowing for his tasty mother.
They gave him pats and set him on his feet and he ran to join his brother.
Why did they put you in the green thing? His twin asked, was it a dare?
It was not so bad, Dexter John replied. I napped. It was kind of fun in there.
This Dissembling Man...
Trod thru three
score orbitz with air
tight (hermetically sealed)
lid on his emotions bare
reft of evincing
concern and/or care
ring forever guarded against
incursions upon fragile as chinaware
psyche foregoing giving
healthy breathing room
never to dare
risk challenging discomfort zones
skirting, hemming, and hawing
deliberately averting, shying,
sidestepping away against
welcoming awkward adolescent
romantic experience, thus
never playfully trying to ensnare
and/or allowing, enabling,
and providing gamesome
opportunities providing willingness
tubby triangulated ascending
ark hay yick teenagehood,
when deux dozen, foursquare,
nor eighteen candlebox birthdays,
nonetheless hungrily glare
ring with salivating
envy peers that hare
tuff hoar did gather
their rose buds...despite,
or perhaps because raging
testosterone overtook coy
demure lassie tude surrendering,
whence young womanly
primal urges let machismo insnare
whereat discovering prickly
"beau" vine love on par
with being a millionaire
despite tiffs that,
tested one's mettle quickly
learning the vital lesson
to turn/beat cutting
edge sword into plowshare
setting the figurative stage,
when feathering one's
nest to prepare
for legal covenant,
(a death do me part
binding resolution) endeavoring
to sustain a lifelong
commitment however difficult and rare.
Buried in an avalanche you
might see on "Hoarders buried alive"
back and foreground
white sheet with limited pay per view,
nonetheless sky scraping heap
(Uriah not kid) nsync with a 'U'-
shaped tube anchored securely thru
solid wood - sporting
towering, leaning, bulging, et cetera slew,
sans huge sized mounds,
this goodfella cockily rue
stirs memories while
almond joying sifting,
(comprising ream mains of outdated queue
vee cee paraphernalia, bank statements, old
fair maidens faded letters, phew
against unrequited lovely lasses
kissed by either gentile or Jew
us gal, during young manhood
confession stated, aye did accrue
now (said besmirched Casanova
wannabe across floor I did strew
said, no longer promising princess,
whose once tenderly fresh rose buds
exuded profusely courtesy ingénue
argh..., how frivolous to argue
with cowardly former self, hence
into the maw of das spouse (Sibyl)
she more than enthusiastically
masticates regarding unblossomed
(romantic opportunity) yours truly blew,
when flickr ring spark flame snuffed out
before profound love chanced to hint
of compatibility, ah... nary a blues clue
maybe best not to fantasize
going down nostalgia avenue,
but cast attention upon motley crew,
no matter I traversed
boulevard of broken dreams
(but oh this...pray lemme tell you
more on this cool spring green day)
ornamented with boughs of churrigueresque
mother nature's divinely wrought
sensational beauty procreative forces construe,
yanking fanciful thoughts back to feeding
pulpy material pages of me child's worldview
scribbled squiggly blurred lines
no doubt gifted artistic prodigies shew
did evince talent this papa doth truly value,
yet an excess of near identical curlique
leaves little breathing room, plus report
cards shows innovative smarts,
frequent affirmations this dada paid due
tee, which gushing praise
my girls never taxed for, yet both knew
this aging baby boomer father decries
being swamped with exorbitant clutter
hence effort now made to save whar grew,
some artistic embellishment and/or
intellectual award, the majority hesitantly fed
into jaw of thee missus the human flew
where hard copy quickly incinerated inducing
me to sneeze atchew!
#13: Close One, & Cigars
To the accords of The Book of Life ... cheers,
loose ends of the created stoic string
crisscross a heedless sea of empty tears.
In the facade of guilt, all seems trifling.
Metallica Horizons all are round,
languages changing from their Mother Tongues,
World Clock, reassemble to Zero down.
New tastes, new sounds ... The Song of Flower Drums
from Southerners, not quite, the cowboy type.
Bowls bleed of beets, ... have fun chow from Macao.
Americans, ... where? ... flagless world, all hype ...
Russians, Chinese, there ... steak, Mindanao.
Ex-lives work as one, building their Starships,
human chain meant Starman ... breathing room trips.
i seemingly slur
only a sigh
a maiden waiting
every rounded
syllable
diagrammed
breathing room
where worms roam
and angels fly
i pinch my own
cheeks, healthy
no blood rises
cherry juice
fills my eyes
when truth shouts
proverbial monkey
eyes, ears, mouth
covered
the fan spins
a pendulum swings
i ponder
honesty speaks
as snowy hair
from an eagle’s nest
a child rests
on her lap
leaning into love
learning to fly
cracking of shell
severe
the child grabs
for air
falling, feeling
the eagle swoops
releasing feathers
headdress rendering
wise wings catch
current events
survey the land
8/11/2018
(James 1:19-20 NIV) My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.