Long Clamouring Poems
Long Clamouring Poems. Below are the most popular long Clamouring by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clamouring poems by poem length and keyword.
Is your comeback a symbol of faith or vengeance
Let it be clear if to light or darkness you pay allegiance
Don't make men victims of ploys up your sleeves
Meting out on them wrath as thieves
Suffering for invested trust
Reaping from it the dividend of disgust
To whom much is given, much is required
Even that which is sought, solicited and acquired
For the fulfilling of desire comes with position
Propositions, dispositions clamouring for your decision
And the old stream of a mind must be stretched
To a lake from which nourishment is fetched
Ask yourself why some lead and others follow
Is it the bait of the lender on those who borrow?
Is it charisma, wit, oration and charm
Is it the strength to which weakness submits to avert harm
Is it a fixed ordination of a bloodline from the beginning
Is it learnable of its intent, design and meaning
Think of God who is continually believed and defied
Yet all life and breath have on him always relied
Patient that they'll freely yield to Him without force
Ye must fashion your ways after this high course
For ye take a heavier cross than most men consider
So let the highest of character surpass the highest bidder
K. Muitherero.
Untamed, wild they rise
flowers don't beg for kindness—
roots break through the stone
their petals flare, loud colors
lure bees to their greedy feast
weeds at heart they sprawl
never pleading for a hand—
only to be seen
their fragrance a ruthless lure
their beauty a cunning snare
perhaps I was born
to beg for love that I missed—
waiting in the aisles
clamouring for attention
while flowers thrive without pleas
I reach out for care,
while the ivy climbs the wall
not asking for help—
I reach out with tendril claws
but my quest is not fulfilled
where are my flowers—
gone to be weeds every one
petals fall like ash—
only weeds endure the light
feeding on what love forgets
Bunches of sillies are attacking my brain
Trying to push the mushy stuff out
Gonna be a knock down drag 'em out affair
From the rooftops I wanna shout!
Have no idea which one I'm rooting for
Mushy stuff has been doing great
But you guys are clamouring for the sillies
So woe is me, I'm in a hell of a state
So free and easy, gonna let it all flow
Whichever takes over is fine
This poetry stuff sure can turn my crank
Puts zest in my big behind
Now there it goes, the sillies are winning
But the mushies aren't very far
Really love life, it's just clicking along
Like out for a drive in my car
The wind, the smell of the morning air
A hint of jasmine we capture
The absolute freedom of the open road
Nothing compares to this rapture
Seem to be rambling on quite a bit
Losing control of my thoughts
Sometimes even I don't understand me
Damn sillies are tying me in knots
But have no fear, I WILL persevere!
Things will sort themselves out
Clicking along as if everything's fine
Till the winner wins out by a snout
© Jack Ellison 2013
Been called sexy, been called old and crotchety
Maybe I'm somewhere in between
I'm probably closer to the sex symbol type
With this body, you know what I mean
Young ladies are always clamouring around
For a piece of this gorgeous physique
Sorry to have to tell them, to take a number
For a chance at the thrill they seek
I'm usually an extremely low key kind of guy
But since building this stunning body
Females flock around, it can get quite annoying
Sorry, really don't mean to get snotty
I'm hankering for just a little peace and quiet
To recharge my batteries so to speak
Eventually all-nighters are gonna catch up
Leaving me real pooped out and weak
Think I might return to my overweight self
Less hassles with the opposite sex
Didn't realize all the women it would attract
Not something I'd really expect
Just funnin'
© Jack Ellison 2104
From a far, I was dazzled by your smile..
From a far, I was amused by that sweet laugh..
From a far, I was attracted to come over near..
From a far, You became the apple of eye..
Walking past a crowd of persons..
Eyes locked as I traverse to the path..
Beholding the gaze, unliking to break..
Excitement builds up, heartbeat thudding aloud...
Finally, We are face to face, unoicing the crowd..
Holding a quiet moment, staring underneath a smile..
I extend an arm, mindlessly falling to you..
Clamouring for your hand, squeezing polite...
Haywire, it might have been..
I do not care tor I haven't sin..
All attention focused fat not thin..
Mesmerized enjoying the romantic scene..
by: olive_eloi
22/09/2013
4:18pm
There's a flower that looks like a pair of hooker's lips
Strangely, they're called “Hooker's Lips”
Agencies are paid big bucks to come up with these gems
Crazy ideas at their fingertips
Got some brilliant ideas too, give me a call
Just charge a small fee for expenses
Extra if my ideas lead to a million dollar campaign
Then serious negotiation commences
Charge a fortune for these award winning ideas
But for you if you act before 3 A.M.
As well, there's a discount for a quick tussle in the hay
Seems a little off topic, not was my intent
Okay back on track talking about pretty flowers
Another unusual one is an “Escariata”
A Spanish word for scarlet or scarlet fever as well
Not too romantic, sounds a bit like pasta!
Now back to “Hooker's Lips”, gonna put some by my bed
To help me in my reverie each night
The hookers I frequent will be clamouring for me
And my “Rhododendron”, what delight!
Rejuvenating Proof
Counteroffensive cataclysms clamouring for defeat
Apprehensive magnetism that makes you feel complete
Comprehensive pragmatism that can sometimes drain and deplete
Recompensive vandalism that leaves you shocked in disbelief
Magnitudes of profound truths that create wisdom for the wise
Terpitudes that are uncouth and crawl around in unethical disguise
Servitudes that hold no proof but are doomed to eventual demise
Platitudes that contain the youth and distort the facts in front of their eyes
Laying on my back I look up toward the blistering sun
Praying for you to take it back as I feel inclined to run
Saying we’re living in times of lack would be understating the sum
Weighing up what has been in fact a loss of delight, joy and fun
Weaponisation of justice that could have gone for more
Legalisation of an armistice as the world prepares for war
Devitalisation of the harvest while we cannot feed the poor
Dehumanisation of the inquest as we ask what all of this is for?
Calcification of an idolisation that was devoid of substance and truth
Calibrations of animations that are manipulating the youth
Altercations of communications that are needed to prove the proof
Imitations of aggravations that require a detective and a sleuth
Rejuvenating the landscape from the environmental degradation
Captivating the escape route as they apply for abdication
Hallucinating the magnetic tape that restricts the aggravation
Ruminating on the holy saint that depicts the consecration
Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
"I quest for a return to the unappeased joys of my sweet past"- By Poet
Quench my thirst to get back to my past
When tame pigeons of joy nested on my eaves
And I could hear their crooning
With the sweetness of love outpouring
When innocent instincts ruled my heart
And I ran after every call from the woods or bush
Mesmerized by the whistles of the oriole and the thrush
Quench my thirst to get back to my past
When every rainbow and every peacock feather
Ignited curiosity in me as a child
And coloured my imagination wild
When, with friends, I sat in the mango grove
Plucking and savouring the ripe juicy mangoes
Careful not to let the pulp drip down our mouths
Quench my thirst to get back to my past
When we strolled along the sandy strands
Watching the wild waves' fray
And cooled by the kiss of spray
When we had watched at night
A hundred fireflies dancing around the *neem
Wondering if they were stars fallen from heaven’s seam
Quench my thirst to get back to my past
When, like breeze, we ran over the meadows
Looking for the bleating lamb
Singing in chorus, ‘Mary had a little lamb'
As memories come clamouring down,
Like the lash of cascading rain,
I can't but make a quest to return to the days of my past.
PALMWINE
The tapper ascends the height,
To get it from the palm sap,
The height he descends having the mysterious gift of nature,
Crystal like the caspian sea.
Grey hairs with their cups at hand,
Ready to taste the feeling of gladness,
Gladness with sweetness that fills the soul,
The dead and weak are awakened by its savour,
The rejuvenator of the inner man ????
Bring a cup full of palmwine,
A cup made of ivory to a bride,
Let the bride seek the love of her youth amidst the crowd,
Men clamouring for the cup till the lover is long searched for and found,
And the taste binds their hearts together
Hearts of men!
Simulate the palmwine of its purity,
Let the thoughts thereof be of its sweetness,
The sweetness let it not be spilled on the ground,
But let it be poured into the weary souls.
Drink with loved ones,
With the keg in the middle being surrounded,
And let the jars be filled with happiness.
HAPPY NEW YEAR SOUPERS
ANYABOLU IFEANYI GENTLE
.[for jolly][whatsapp:07061816037]
Often times when we glance at the mirror
Staring through its lens in powdered face.
We marvel, we wonder and ponder
Over the physical flesh.
O! Do you sometimes cry
Wishing you were carved from the finest of marble,
Or you smile when showers of compliment flood your being?
If only beauty was an antidote to death,
What would have been the faith of an ugly lass who walked the street?
So we eat to keep fit
And swallow pints of pill
To keep the body,
And care not of the withering soul.
If only the sight of a man's muscle
Who has made a home of the gym could scare off death
What would have become of a man who is as lean as a broom?
So here I sit
In this dark night
Staring at the candle light,
Listening to my thumping heart
Linking mortality to futility.
I can only reach you through words
I can only implore your mind
To trace back its step to reality.
All the clamouring,
And all the grumbling
Of being ugly or beautiful
Bothers not the treacherous death.
When the body remains still
And there seems to be no air in your lung's fill,
Then you realise that this body is meant for the maggot's fun,
When interred to mother earth.