Long Closet(a) Poems
Long Closet(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long Closet(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Closet(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
Flutters…
the butterflies, a parachute of rainbow light
leaping from her pulse, her blond hair buoyant
heavenly honeysuckle wafting, immersing him
the daub of a fresh strawberry on her lips
Whispers of mystery,
in the dank closet, a couple strands.
a lovely blossom under her précieux top
perchance a predicament?
Happenstance, he thought happily
had bound two hearts, a pair of bodacious lips.
sinks his knees into the mire, they shake
no Virgin Mary in his mirror, mere...folly!
2/5/2019
Bardenesque Poetry Contest
Sponsor - John Hamilton
Words: Wafting, Daub, Whispers, Dank, Flutters, Perchance, Folly, Happenstance
Précieux - from the French, meaning precious
The large iron safe
has an old-fashioned locking system,
levers need to be pulled,
dials twisted, knobs turned
back and forth.
It is a closet, a room
to enter and lock behind you.
It is taller than a bent head,
yet its sides
are miles wide.
In a dream hotel
I have sequestered myself
for safe-keeping.
I have left my pants
laid out neatly on a bed,
shoes stuffed with newspaper
gagged upon a creaking floor.
Here inside the thick iron door
of this lock-up,
I can sleep in isolation,
until time crows
within my secluded heart,
then my body
once more is offered up
to be bolted upon the cross
of humanity.
© 12 mins ago
What's hiding in my bedroom?
Dark evil spirits of the night.
Always lurking in the shadows,
Forbidden to breach the light.
Constant whispering while I sleep,
Ever tormenting restless dreams.
Icy fingers clutching my throat,
Awakened me with fading screams.
Heart pounding as I look around,
In my closet; a stark surprise.
Peering coldly from the depths,
The subtle glow of angry eyes.
Stricken by fear and paralyzed,
Chills rush down my spine.
As the covers slip off the bed,
From below, a menacing whine.
A pair of hands tug at my feet,
And roughly jerk me to the floor.
Drug swiftly into the closet,
Then the sound of slamming door.
Tandem footsteps sprint down the hall,
Frightened parents come rushing in.
Now greeted by an empty room,
Never to see their child again.
Lisa was the very first love of my youth,
even her voice had the sound of a flute;
how funny she looked with those huge, black sunglasses
matching her blue bikini...honestly I had plenty of laughs!
I surely approached like any other boy would,
trying to mentally rehearse my intent...
and finding courage took a planned incident,
which made me conquer her with an insincere word.
"Sorry for messing up your clean blanket,
the hot sand burned my feet and I got mad!"
I humbly said with the tenderest voice to win her favor...
" No need to apologize. " she replied, touching her red hair.
And suddenly a summer steamy love began...
how delighted and how lucky I was to have gotten away so shamelessly
with my pretense, then she asked me to get off the hot sand
and sit on her blanket to listen to Cher...oh, she longed for her Sonny!
Lisa was the very first love of my youth filled with sensation;
when I open my cluttered closet, a withered carnation,
she put in my tuxedo jacket, still evokes our last date...
the eighties were a joy to explore with her without any haste.
A C A R D B O A R D B O X
C A N B E T H E B E S T TO
Y F O R A N I M A G I N AR
Y T W O Y E A R O L D ASA
S PA C E S H I P A M ONST
E R S C L O S E T A C A VE
T H E B E S T T O Y O NCH
R I S T M A S M O RN I NG
E VEN W H E N TH E RE AR
ELOT S OF O T H E R TOYS
A CARDBOARD BOX CAN BE THE BEST TOY FOR AN IMAGINARY TWO YEAR OLD AS A SPACESHIP A MONSTER'S CLOSET, A CAVE. THE BEST TOY ON CHRISTMAS MORNING EVEN WHEN THERE ARE LOTS OF OTHER TOYS.