Long Chemistry Poems
Long Chemistry Poems. Below are the most popular long Chemistry by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chemistry poems by poem length and keyword.
A few Minutes, a few hours, in just a few days;
You have beguiled me with your wisdom and your astute ways.
I get absorbed in these feelings, basking in your glow.
You ease my solicitous mind with your amatory flow.
Curiosity is blazing with the questions I posses.
The wonder of your breath on me, and your vehement caress.
The distance bears no mercy, when I'm longing for your embrace.
You have altruistic tendencies, I see it in your face.
The addiction of your presence, shows no clemency to my mind.
Searching for solace, in your eyes; I hope to find.
The future is unforeseen, yet rushed by all this obtrusive time.
Making each moment so valued, making each moment mine.
Equations also refer to a specific human connection,
they must always be equal and have a balance in concept;
if all women are thought to be lower than us men,
refrain from being superior, solve the right equation...
no, don't sit at your desk for hours doubting it, then dub it.
Monuments are built with various equations of ingenuity,
admire them anywhere and be stunned by their immensity;
chemistry and biology use lots of them, they are imperative,
their discoveries are beneficial, but sometimes destructive.
Wars wouldn't have been won without these theories,
Man wouldn't have gone to the moon and explore it;
disappointment is delusive when all else fails in defeat,
solve your equations, be thoughtful and compare results...
are they perfectly thought out? If not, some disaster awaits.
Written on 3/10/2016
It could of been her hazel eyes that burnt like copper gold
The way her hair of golden blonde shone vibrant, strong and bold
Maybe her lips of ruby, scarlet rays of fire
Her radiant disposition
Like the sun ascending higher
It could of been her sadness
How it exploded into fun
How her happiness and sorrow
Entwined easily into one
Her tears were like the rainstorms
Her smile like the sun
A rainbow of emotions
That urged her spirit run
Capturing her beauty was impossible you see
For rainbows hold elusiveness
A form of chemistry
The way they form the perfect arch
The way they tend to bend
Yet once the rain has left the sun
The rainbows reign must end
Some people say she found her gold
She reached her secret place
Some say that she was born to live in this kaliedoscopic state
But I say she was my rainbow
Like a portrait in the sky
For whenever storm clouds gather
I know my rainbows real close by
Eye contact at a bar,
Laughter mixes pheromones,
Irises dilate as dark euphoria sets
Two unavoidable actions in motion.
His double action Adams apple pumping
As her lips glisten after a tongue bath.
Lightning cracks inside, deafening logical rhythm,
Channeling energy into porcelain-like
Vessels of desire.
Muscle tightens under skin, defining
Halted passion, sensual urges, and plasma thirst.
Blood pumps into veins, temperature is in flux,
Perceptions re-imagined, recollecting interests.
She sees his primal fierce eyes, sculpted body
Under a new light. A canvas to etch her
Screams in with red polish. Painful,
Pleasurable thoughts invade, creating
Memory before action.
He smells her fragrance, he feels her breaking
Resolve submitting to him. The chemistry of his
Anatomy pulling, swimming, clawing at each
Fiber of her being. Her skin’s cold and moist,
His, warm banana nut bread.
First embraces, friction, resistance, motions
In oceans of soaked sheets. Powerful
Contractions, condensation on windows,
Perspiration dripping beads over
Limbs. Forcing self upon self is
Maddening, to conceive, to imagine
Hard sounding drums pounding
Soft harmonic beats into one
Human melody.
Exhaustion, the wasteland of battle,
Blood and lipstick swirling eyeliner into
War paint. Carcasses lay strewn, scars
Ridden across back and thigh.
Tears fall down cheeks out of pure
Joy and affirmation of lust.
May I buy you another?
The best choice of words
Made a dream come true
For whom?
2025.05.13
Today, not as any other days,
When I always was the first arrived at this place,
Waiting for the piano to be available,
For me to clean and press on the keyboard,
To break the sound of silence
Of the well lighted open space.
Not far away, there was a chimney
Covered under a huge cone,
They were the centre place's icons.
Some of the personnel of this Centre,
Like the security guards, the cleaner,
The maintenance workers, the new train station constructors,
The goods deliveries staff and the train commuters,
They rushed and walked pass me.
Few stopped to pay me compliments.
Lately, I could not play the piano well.
There was one other reason
But I preferred not to mention.
Have I cheesed off with the piano?
Or was I fed up with the same old songs,
Played in the last 10 months.
Lately, my memory failed me badly,
I could not play new songs at all.
Normally, I was able to remember
How the music went
After listening to them over and over again,
But, now I could not do that any more.
My emotional pain supposed to settle by now,
But some how, it flared up again
When I saw him on the Mothers' day evening.
I was sure why he was there,
What a painful excuse for him.
Once a year to show your appreciation to a person,
Who carried you inside her womb,
Especially in his case,
A single mother to raise four young children.
Also according to his descriptions,
His mother was the slowest person in the world
When learning and understanding new things.
It hurt me when hearing those words.
The way he perceived his mother,
As a person who has low IQ and not intelligent.
To me, he appeared to be a very handsome,
Fit, strong and wise mature person.
Then why he remained being unattached.
After three decades of adulthood.
Well, it was because he was too picky.
I was not suitable for him, not even as a friend,
After all, I met only 66.66% of his requirements.
We had same level of intelligent,
Shared lot of common interest,
Strongly believed in healthiness,
Had 90% of the same passion
And point of view in life.
If that was not good enough in friendship
Then I had no idea what it should be.
Good luck to him in soul mates searching,
Good luck to him in finding a soul mate with chemistry,
Last but not, in finding a partner in life and having a family.
As golden Sun is shining bright,
blue molecules of light flow out
into our atmosphere to blend
and fill our space with soft sky blue.
The color blue is so serene,
as in our oceans' sapphire tint,
or lakes that mirror azure sky
in ripples of reflective hues.
Among the flowers of our earth,
real blue in blooms is very rare.
The few that are will thrill us, like
Blue Butterfly Delphinium.
There are no really true blue foods.
Most fruits have colors to attract;
like tangerine, orange, and plum,
or lemon, lime, grape, apricot.
In nature, color blue is rare
except for beauty of our sky,
or where our waters mirror it.
Our color blue, a gift, serene.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: United Colors: Blue
Sponsor: Silent One
Judged: 02/29/2016
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"Blue is rare in living nature as it is a color that is associated with organic molecules in alkaline conditions: few living systems have an alkaline chemistry naturally. The morning glory flower, for instance, starts off the day an intense cerulean, fading to an insipid mauve at sundown as the alkalinity in the flower decreases."
Source: https://forum.jackkruse.com/index.php?threads/the-color-blue-in-nature-is-rare.16477/
"The ocean looks blue because red, orange and yellow (long wavelength light) are absorbed more strongly by water than is blue (short wavelength light). So when white light from the sun enters the ocean, it is mostly the blue that gets returned. Same reason the sky is blue." Source: Google
There comes a season
when your spirit gets tired
of surface-level conversations
and people who only know how to love you
in convenience.
I know—
sometimes healing is learning
how to close the door gently
without reopening it out of guilt.
Some of the deepest wounds
came from friendships
that taught me what
abandonment sounds like
in human form.
And somehow?I kept shrinking myself?to fit inside connections?that could not hold my full weight.
But healing—?real healing—?is noticing how your
nervous system?begins to rest?around people who do not
compete with your light.
I am no longer searching
For temporary chemistry.
I want soul-level alignment
the right friendships?do not arrive as chaos.
They arrive like clarity.?
Like peace sitting down beside you?and saying,
“You no longer have to perform here.”
I seek to attract people?who understand reciprocity.?Who celebrate healing?instead of mocking it.
I seek connections?Who bring depth?instead of distraction.
Because I have suffered enough?to know this truth:
Not everyone deserves access to your becoming.
And the people meant for your life?will never ask you?to abandon yourself?just to keep them.
I realize the only way for the
Grass to become greener on the other side
Is if each side pours into each other
to help the grass grow.
X marks the spot to the treasure I seek on your treasure map; x is where I shall find the answers to all of the questions I have asked
And then there are x’s in place of my eyes, just like a cartoon drawing portraying my eyes as being shut, but truly mine are in a lust filled guise not appearing open wide
Was I just a part of your story an experimentation like a sickness you needed to cure, or was I an extracurricular activity that you used when you were unsure
You know an activity of the sexual deviant kind, where your body coalesces with unbridled passion in time with mine
Where everything is exceptional, a true masterpiece, nothing as perfect as the moment in time between where our two bodies meet
In that place where our bodies are almost touching and speaking to one another extralinguistically, where nothing else exists just the spark of our chemistry
And my love you are amazingly dexterous, the way that you can barely touch me, and I then cease to exist
Your love is a toxin, and my blood is the host, acquiescing to the pleasure/pain as though I’m almost comatose
Trying not to choke on the euphoria gyrating within my soul, and as it expands it is making me feel wanton and not whole
Making me question am I an exhibitionist, or am I only pretending to be because it’s you that I crave to be with
You that I ache to explore the depths of darkness with, and if I can’t have this with you then I simply don’t want it
Ex that is what you are to me, and although our love was exquisite it was our lust that was exuberant, in which it engulfed me.
We bathe in each other's
glances until we were
transplanted into a world
of obsession.
Our eyes disappeared into
one another's seeking refuge.
essence of our affection
could be felt in the air.
Imprinting our intentions by
holding the stare.
Our hearts began racing
and the chemistry was clear.
anticipation of your touch
was drawing me near.
Battling with the emotions
held deep inside
Wondering at the existence
it could provide
Blood courses through
constricted veins
Exotic fantasies begin
to flood our brains
Anticipation again
our great motivator
Leaving us exhausted within
the touch was this creator
A collaboration with a friend from another site!
This poem was too long to submit without premium membership, so I have submitted it in two parts, but it is meant to be read together.
Part one....
They say he is clearly psychotic, if knowing that was even a possibility.
The visible signs are all present, his behavior is a dead give away.
"Normal" people don't act this way, they act like everybody else.
When did being different, become the diagnosis of being clinically insane?
Their image of "normal" is repeatedly drilled into our heads.
Through the direction of our leaders, our education, multi-media.
The television and cinema screen their greatest tools for propaganda.
A man and his lovely wife, with their two point five children,
A duplex in the suburbs, undistinguished from any of the others.
a neatly trimmed lawn, a few hedges, a two car garage for their one vehicle.
A couple truly in love, rarely do they argue, with great sexual chemistry.
Working constantly through the better part of their lifetimes
making enough money to pay their bills, and splurge once a week.
their companies CEO, the bill collectors, and the government's tax brackets,
all work together in unison, to ensure that they are never more than comfortable.
At the age of sixty-five, they have a small nest egg saved up together.
Only now, well into their "golden years," are they allowed to live as they choose.
Their biggest motivation and desire, is simply to survive for another year.
When they die, their children discover they have no money in their accounts.
It always is a shock, revealing your parents have died completely broke.
Ideal examples of the perfect "American Marriage," left penniless in their grave.
Luckily for the children, they had purchased a small life insurance policy.
The payout almost exactly enough to cover the burial costs and funeral.
Even experiencing this unsettling revelation at their parents expense,
These same children are pre-destined, doomed, to follow suit.
Brain washed into believing that their outcome will somehow be better.
They spent less, saved up more, purchased a better insurance policy.
Unaware their parents shared these exact thoughts, forty years prior.