Long Comments Poems
Long Comments Poems. Below are the most popular long Comments by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Comments poems by poem length and keyword.
Wild Horse Poets
Like wild horses, we trample poems for fun?
Leaving no comment!
Is that our measure of another poet's heart treasure?
I read some phenomenal poetry today.
Horse poets left no comments.
Hundreds of them.
And shame on them!
Over dweebish poetry, we lick their
boots.
While true poets, with wisdom and
originality.
We ignore with obvious ignominy.
What is commenting really about?
Some use it at a stage to flaunt their
insipid intellectual prowess!
But the comment shows who you are,
a clown, nothing more!
Maybe reading poems is a race?
I do not play that game.
I won't comment if a poem is inhumane.
But, I think these orphaned poems are
truly a shame.
Some far better than some POTD's
Left, under a gravestone, silent!
You fast typists, especially, gee, can
you type at least one word?
Do not leave good poems without
recognition.
Or are we only commenting to contest
winners for our selfish recognition?
June 19, 2020
8:30 pm PST
Poem # 1256
full bodied women
tantalize senses like wine
delightful to taste
cushions of comfort
everywhere soft to the touch
more luxuriance
curvaceous can charm
sexy is as sexy does:
get size wise, people!
Eileen Manassian
Footnote:
This is a repost of a deleted poem. I am not justifying being unhealthy, that goes for the ultra thin and the ultra fat. I'm promoting acceptance. Perceptions of beauty change over time....I'm glad fuller women are getting more press coverage these days....women like Tess Holliday. I follow her on Instagram and am shocked by the amount of hurtful comments she gets. Let the woman be....
Just today, I was scrolling down the infamous feed
Stopping for a couple of laughs, evading the ignorance,
soaking up some knowledge; not knowing my heart
would soon begin to bleed
And like that, you appeared with that smile that I know, oh
so well
It was the same yet different as if you had a certain
the story you wanted to tell
I continued to look but an unsettling feeling inside
began to aggrandize
So, I read the comments and oddly, they're
all in the past tense; disheveled, now tears filled my
confused eyes
We tried and we had one helluva start too, but we
just couldn't make it last forever
My hopes were always for your happiness and peace
as you sought life's treasures
Can't believe it! Here and then gone like that, got
me thinking
Others say it and we hear it, and we surely feel it
when 'the Reaper' comes knocking
Can't believe it! Sitting here, scratching my head
and rubbing my eyes, just asking, How? Why?
But who am I to question this process in this
existence? Just who am I to ask why?
Can't believe it! You've gone away from this life...
But I'm sure now you're singing sweet praises of JOY with
no more strife
JLH 3/19/68 - 5/29/17
Can you describe a baby’s smile? Let me try:
A breath of fresh air while the sewage tanks are drained;
That momentary silence when gunshots fill the air;
Cool palm oil on your tongue after your first crab curry;
when you shut your eyes to stop incoming traffic glare;
when a persistent cramp finally disappears;
Taking off your blistering work shoes when the day is done.
The pureness of the lines, and the innocence written in an infant’s smile cast all my stress away.
Unrestrained, untainted. The pure expression of appreciation that says: “Yes, you count”, “Thank you!”, “I love you” without uttering a word.
Those 5 seconds where everything means so much more, where nothing else matters than how happy this human being is of the mutual expression of love, as you smile back.
(c)Nyonglema
In the comments, tell us what your baby’s smile is like to you….
(Stream Of consciousness )
So peaceful. The sun still sleeps in its cradle and I wait for it to
waken.! As if it were my own, dear child.
What does this day hold for me? I know not.
No, I don’t mean things or events. I mean the inner breathing of
me, that shines ….and far too often is hidden
So very, still, now as the the candle-lights the silken darkness.I
can see a shadowed cat walking on the fence.
Moonlit auburn and beautiful, she strides.
I hear the hum of the refrigerator and the heater as well and I
hear the calicoed purrs of my cat.
I am not bound by forms of poetry right now, just existing in this
moment.
Like swimming in warm,aqua,tropical waters!
Being with you in spirit, conjoined ..wanting you to know who I am.
We all want to be understood and sometimes we are not but that does
not stop us and our poetry,does it?
You’re hungry to express your soul and I know that by your care and
sparkling smiles in your comments.
And the last thing I want to do…. is to make people-pleasing my goal.
Does that sound strange.? Perhaps! But not to this writer!
Is this written for a contest? Are you kidding me? No,this is me,talking
to you.. I would rather have a friend than a trophy any day.
In poetry, I feel comforted as I do with this soft blanket covering me.
Love God, and stop judging other people by their religion or lack of one,
but rather by the goodness of their heart.
And no, not by how many poems they write!
For the highest virtue is humility!
For life, is nothing if it is just a race to be king of the mountain and looking down on everyone else.How sad and empty a place!
I can feel it in my bones that one day,my life will end peacefully and beautifully.
Those are my plans ………to open my shades in my last moments……
to see the clouds in the sky part, and just walk with joy into God’s arms!
4-5-2023
I would liked to have had the chance to comment on a post,
but that was impossible by the author who is engrossed
in pointing out Democrat's flaws, but I'm not shocked.
So, I wrote this rebuttal because he has me blocked.
(Or maybe he turned off commenting because.... ?)
This political observance was posted on the site today.
I read it hoping to see something worthy it had to say,
but it was just another brow beating upon Democrats.
It's become a ridiculous civil war between crats and rats.
It must be quite a burden to constantly wear a blindfold
and believe Trump's lies to write something so bold.
This poet thinks the insurrection claim is out of hand,
but the insurrectionist's crimes he doesn't understand.
Yes, parents need to know what lessons are being taught,
He claims it's not Trump's fault, but if the truth is sought,
Biden can't be blamed either. He didn't hire the teachers.
Trump still cries, "Foul" to those who sit in his bleachers.
Drugs, crime, and border security, Trump couldn't control,
not when Trump was Pres, an office he says Dems stole.
I don't belong to either political party but on it I'll speak...
Neither one of these men are fit for the office they seek.
I'm permitting comments because it's everyone's right
to do so as long as they're not offensive and rude.
I read the Poems Of others, Poetic Sisters, Poetic Brothers.
I read the comments then write a comment or two.
More than two words, usually, for “Heart Broken” Carol, More than three.
Tamiviolet’s “ Visions “; John Boak’s “ Destiny “, Katherine Stella’s Haikus:
Ernesto’s “ The Truth, I Will Never Forget “, Vince’s “ Hey Old Man “ Has
Special meaning to me. The free verse of my new Beloved: “ My Dearest “.
These are only just a few; of those who help me Write.
There are so many, MANY more on the internet’s PoetrySoup site.
Inspired By the Poem: “Poetrysoup“--By Norman Purvis
Dedicated to all my Family of Poets at { POETRYSOUP }.
For my habit there is no known cure
I’m addicted; yes I’m certain, I’m sure
I’ve had this issue for over seven years
I’m in a happy place there are no tears
I’ll grab my fix any time night or day
It needles hubby, but it’s here to stay
Many people have offered me good advice
Helping me cope with comments so nice
I’ve tried to stop, but can’t go cold turkey
Because my addiction's writing poetry!
*Poetic licence as my husband is very supportive of my writing
Addiction Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Rob Levasseur
n/a in contest judged on 12/31/2020
12/28/28
Without the Soup,
My skies would be grey,
The sun wouldn't shine,
I'd wither away.
Without the Soup,
With its comments and contests,
There would be no challenge,
No striving for success.
Without the Soup,
My doubts would climb.
I'd lose confidence
In my writing and rhyme.
Without the Soup,
I'd be lost and alone,
Especially after
The friendship you've shown.
From all over the world,
We have come together,
A variety of poets,
Talented and clever.
I don't want to think about
Not having the Soup.
I'm just grateful I found you.
You're a wonderful group.
2/3/12 For David Williams "Life Without Soup" contest.
*Image of Aesteticness by Pixabay.
Boxed Souper
"I now wish I had your eyes...it wasn't yours, it never was." By the poet.
Still...
There have been a few too many,
I take into account,
those flatteries, good and plenty,
...that spurt, I do not doubt.
Cause and effect make the river stream flow,
Upward or downward and what beats the path,
Pleasant repertoire or a quid pro quo.
High profilers entertain muffled wrath,
Fewer chips on the table, losers throw,
All the same kind face my Royal Flushed--bath.
No contrast chancing with a quill,
few dotes, and left comments.
Nominal spew mandated nil,
hail those righteous contents.
...still!
2023 January 07
RZ & HMS.