Long Cept Poems
Long Cept Poems. Below are the most popular long Cept by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cept poems by poem length and keyword.
I fly out of my lair
to land in your hair
You brush me off
as if I weren't there
Yet now you're infected
though you've not suspected
corona flu injected
no symptoms detected
You've invaded my home
stripped the land of my food
I'd have left you alone
'cept for your turpitude
Of rural China we speak
and the West, it does shriek
regarding sinister plots
but that's all for naught
For as you too encroach
on habitats you poach
from skunks, 'coons, and mice
Please know that head lice --
will seem mighty nice
compared to the plagues
that are heading your way
in a trice
What can you say
About kids these days
'Cept they ain't got no respect
Walking around
Like a bunch of clowns
Hey punks pull up your pants
I don't really care
To see your underwear
Or any skid marks running up the back
Put on a belt
And if nothing else
It'll hold in all that lazy fat
And what you call music
I'm going to lose it
If I hear any more of that crap
Back in the day
We had people who sang
That didn't sound like a half strangled cat
And the way you cover your skin
With ink from the pen
In what you think are cool tattoos
I wonder what they'll look like
Later in life
When all that skin is hanging loose
All those piercings you've got hanging
Some even dingle dangling
Pretty much match the hole in your head
If you took them out kiddie
I bet the wind through you would whistle Dixie
That's pretty much it "Nuff Said"
Thanks Grandpa!
~La' Luna De' Morte'~
As an scarlet blush,shadows th' land crim'...
She steals sting of death,with 'stonishing splendor
Beaut~full n' ablaze,her ambience flows in wake
Lighting th' air crisp,with her spark'nd kindled kiss
Comforting n' calm,she affords festive delight
Gath'rings 'round her pyres,her children gleam a'glow
Joy~fill'nd laughter,emits gaiety from their pleasance
Swaddled in her aura,'ven th' gloom'd come a'glee
Sweetly n' sound,becometh slumber in her night
Though th' amorous' desires,are th' more frequent for wait
For of Eros' myrrh,she is saturately immersed
Th' senses of her seduction,soothing to feral 'volve
Wholly loyals 'cept her due,ceaselessly crave her 'rrival
When her departure cometh,we lay yearn'd of next loom
Awaiting th' Mother's daughter,so lavish'ly arrayed
An 'ticipated nativity,none comparing so of...
...An Autumn's Full Reap'ng Moon!
~AZAZA~'09
In my nocturnal connection I live between two worlds
the one that is past and the one that has just begun
the sound of crickets tells me I'm not quite awake
but the glare of the screen tells me, I am not alseep
Forgoing the dream that was meant to be complete
I chose to knit the word before the break of dawn
not a sound do I hear cept' the sound of my fingers
as they meet the plastic keys of my computer screen
No happy thoughts come my way no sad ones either
though my pillow whispers alone I'm not discontent
for theres a beautiful lampost staring out my window
and it is eager to read what I am planning to soon seed
In my nocturnal visits I encounter the mainstay of wake
and only the crickets know where I am, for me thats OK
for soon the world will be abuzz with all kinds of action
and I will have to say goodbye, to the nights refraction.
Still a bit cool out tonight. I drove to my boomfield anticipatin' gentle winds
and sweet returns. All my booms impress and amaze me, 'cept for a
couple of 'em, which I know always takes me a few tosses to figure 'em out.
The air is sweet with the promise of Spring....colorful ducks and geese fill
the sky. Quickly, sundown approaches, winds abate and peepers from the
creek at the edge of my field begin their harmonies.
Suddenly! in a dead-calm wind.... I feel it, only in Spring at sundown!
a cool creek breeze, waist-high, slowly waves over me....redolent with
moisture-filled Spring perfumes released from their winter slumber, while
the air above my waist stays warm!.... a sensation unlike anything I've ever
felt or smelled before!
Then it comes to me.... hmmmm.....stationary warm thermal above...cool
air below.... MTA time! ( a special 'rang shaped like a small hockey-stick, called
maximum time aloft) ... I begin tossing sweet flights (for me!) and eagerly
catch 'em low, reveling in the different temperatures, odors and sensations as
I reach to bring 'em in near the ground. An overwhelming sense of well-being
floods my mind.... as I thank my boomerangs for taking me deep into
April.... in Minnesota.
Why sit and worry over things,
That seem to happen daily;
Little things that come and go,
That just annoy us, really?
Why get angry over certain things,
That those around us do;
'Cause people make mistakes sometimes,
And life's too short to stew,
O'er things that sometimes come about,
Without a soul to blame,
'Cept Happen-stance and Circumstance,
For want of other names.
To fume and worry constantly,
Makes mind and body sicken.
It doesn't solve a single thing.
It takes the joy from livin';
For God has deemed that rain will fall,
On fair and foul alike,
And what can grow without the rain,
As well as warm sunlight;
So take the rain and praise the Lord,
For sunlight and for showers,
And thank Him every day that dawns,
For blessings He's made ours.
"BUT I SAY TO YOU, LOVE YOUR ENEMIES, BLESS THEM THAT CURSE YOU, DO GOOD TO THEM THAT HATE YOU AND PRAY FOR THEM THAT DESPITEFULLY USE YOU AND PERSECUTE YOU; THAT YE MAY BE THE CHILDREN OF YOUR FATHER WHICH IS IN HEAVEN; FOR HE MAKETH HIS SUN TO SHINE ON THE EVIL AND THE GOOD, AND SENDETH RAIN ON THE JUST AND ON THE UNJUST."
Matthew 5:44-45
In other words be grateful what you have and don't sweat the small stuff.
Everybody has problems, you ain't unique.
we gathered lilacs
you&I
in that faroff land
distant
now uninhabited
unvisited
'cept by memories
those days so real
more real then
than this today
seen through a veil
yet
still indelible
imprinted forever
hardwired for easy recall
age has not aged
who we were then
passion
is not stilled in the breast
desire now
does not rest
but stirs
we drink at that fountain
of yesterdays
when
we were young
&
this love of ours
had just begun
we wander&kiss
the same&
remenisce
of that faroff time
I
remain yours
&
you are still mine
There ain't nothin' a cowboy is prouder of than his faithful horse,
Except that is, maybe his hat and his pointy-toed boots of course!
In sleet, snow and rain he'll pull the old hat down over his ears,
As he stands guard over the restless herd of skittish steers!
He'll wear his old sweat-stained hat to Saturday night dances,
And to protect him from the sun and rain while fixin' fences.
At the end of day he'll guzzle a coupl'a beers, his thirst to slake,
Plantin' his boots on the brass rail with his pards to take a break!
He'll wear his old slouch hat from dawn 'til at night he hits the hay,
Never doffin' it for nothin' 'cept if'n a pretty lady passes his way,
Or use it to water his hoss and feed him oats is the other exception!
For the niceties of society and the social graces he has little affection!
Maybe he can't afford a fancy pair of them Levi or Wrangler jeans,
And he must tolerate Cooky's tiresome chuck of bacon and beans,
But when it comes to his hat and boots he won't compromise.
The hat must be a Stetson and Tony Lama boots are what he buys!
He throwed his leg over his saddle horn one day and had this to say:
"Boys, when I come to the end of the trail and cash in my chips someday,
I don't want you fellers a-carryin' on and a-bellerin when I'm gone.
Jes' promise you'll bury me in my dusty hat and scruffy boots and carry on!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Hopes
Take my hand and follow me
There’s a new world ahead for us to see
Don’t look back keep straight ahead
Stay close to each other, you’ll feel no dread.
If you only do but trust in He
The one called ‘King of Eternity’
You can live for the time no more tears will be shed
‘cept tears of joy at the return of the dead.
In that world where no evil lurks
The eyes of the blind will admire his works
The ears of the deaf will hear the birds sing
The voice of the mute will praise our great king
The legs of a cripple will race with a cheetah
A motherless child will run to meet her
The fatherless boy will take his hand
Blessed are the meek who inherit this land.
No one will weep in hunger,
No one will cry in pain.
No sounds of gunfire
No dropping of bombs
Will ever be heard of again.
No threat of violence
No fear of death
To shatter your peace apart
But the peace of god that excels all thought
Will fill your mind and your heart.
Do you believe this is true?
Can you see me and you?
He offers it us, you can take it!
Just listen to him
And never give in
Together I’m sure we can make it!
A.Jarvis October 1994
This misanthrope lived
most all his life alone,
yet upon awakening
this very early morn,
mine eyes saw me prone
naked body adrip atop
blood soaked sheets,
that glommed to mine
lacerated flesh and shone
deep red as moonlight seeped
thru chink in the stone wall,
nothing else stirred
'cept myself abed,
but sinew and bone
suddenly alarmed
what demon slashed
into red ribbons,
whence fright suddenly,
I choked, gasped,
and loosed a groan
upon e'en the slightest movement
found me to moan
with excruciating pain,
while in thine head
did sinister demon fueled,
a wounded pained animal groan
maniacal cackling gradually
increasing to an ear piercing,
hounding and deafening tone,
whence hands attempted
to clap away
evil frightful shrill
ne'er heard nor known
afore this nightmarish scene
capped when nine inch nails
caked with thick
dried blood shown
in the dim light affixed
to monster sized brown
paws not my own,
yet latched to this
gruesome near slain
(bodily heap of mine)
ogre haunted nemesis over blown
sanity, and frightfully unknown
as like an accursed beast
methought hie got catapulted
to the outer limits
of the twilight zone.