Long Complimented Poems
Long Complimented Poems. Below are the most popular long Complimented by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Complimented poems by poem length and keyword.
#Beauty_in_the_beast
A crime scene, I must say
Blood stains, all over
Death has passed here, I can smell its ouder
Right in front of me she stood
Paddling through the least, of whats left of her
From afar, I could hear her stumbling heart beat
Like gasp, from being chased by voracious dogs
Her's was a voracious entanglement
A part of her, which refuses to let go,
Let off her dripping heart,
sprinkling blood all over her body
I could hear, a low reacting pulse, uncertain of continuing
All hope is depleted, she needed no voice to confirm it but her eyes spoken so many shattered glasses of what has been.
She keeps saying I hoped he would change,
I hoped he would grow up
And like the last beeping of a hospital life support machine, I hoped, she then dropped on the floor, lifeless.
Love and hope has taken her, who shall look after her children, I neared as I asked, and there she palpitated and asked who are you, to bring me back to life? I said, I'm a survivor of love and hope
I leaned closer to lift her up, our traumatic cord locked in our eyes, in there flames were still aloof
Like a wounded jaguar, I steadly held my tongue to not rage it further, my trauma evoked, for in there blood was still fresh and stenching ones nostrils, if I be not gentle, I might cause more harm, and put the last nail to this coffin.
I saw my similar scars in her smile, my soo not visible teary tattoos on her chicks, something in me died, and resurrected, this is me in a different body frame, I sighed.
Her pain, echoed my permanent internal bleedings. Right there in her trauma, I chose to see, her true beauty, I chose to see, her true smile, her long burried and unforgotten true-self. Fell in love with her scars, like they were mine, fell in love with her trauma for I too was a product from there. Saw her beauty and acknowledged it, saw her smile and complimented it, saw her value and illuminated it. I saw her, when she knew nomore who she was, even how she really lookedlike,
I saw her, in her beast state, and I chose to see her beauty, still
#Poetic_Ink
I awoke this morning to a beautiful autumn day.
It was 7am as I picked up the newspaper from the lawn.
This morning everything seemed more fresh and green than usual.
I live in Victor Harbour, South Australia on the Fleurieu Peninsula.
Our house sits at the top of a hill giving spectacular views from all sides.
Nature abounds, we have a view of the sea which is at the bottom of the
Avenue where we live.
I thank God for these gifts every day and realise how blessed we are.
The early morning sky, showing colours of burnished gold as the sun rose
behind a silhouette of trees complimented by a cornflower blue sky that
was slowly appearing.
When I bent down to pick up the paper a flock of ducks, flying low,
passed by me pursued by a large red fox.
The fox was airborne, he had become the hunter, not the hunted.
Everything happened so quickly.
I was amazed by this living masterpiece I had become part of.
It was a perfect work of art without the use of paint or brush.
I was spellbound.
A song I learned at school came to mind, All Things Bright And Beautiful
(written by Cecil Francis Alexander (c) 1848)
The author of this children's song encaptured in simple words my entire
thoughts and feelings.
I felt elated as I went back into the house to share my experience with my husband.
Years ago ... I once considered her my best friend
we would go shopping and stop for lunch or just tea
we liked to talk of all sorts of things
she complimented my writing and art
I liked her a lot
I trusted her too
and I thought she was loyal
I never imagined cruelty
that she would just turn
disappear from my life ... gone
with no reason or the explaining of why
I left messages
but with no reply
I got the message loud and clear
I tried to figure it out
for I knew that I had done nothing wrong
never spoke to her again or tried
and that's okay I was just fine with being me
though I did feel hurt and rejected, and
I felt like ... I could never trust again
_____________________
February 10, 2023
Poetry/Free Verse/Hurt and Rejected - IFL
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1524-474-10
All Rights Reserve, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, I Felt Like
sponsor, Charles Messina, Judged 02/20/2023
Second Place
I was excited to go to college a couple of months ago
I wanted to meet new friends and go with the flow
I was also so nervous and speechless at the same time
But, I knew singing was my talent and choir is so sublime
I stepped foot on campus at PCC one sunny afternoon
I was wearing a confident, yet sheepish smile, wiping off the sweat from my brow
I probably looked like a fool who lost his wisdom so soon
I’m afraid I’ll have to sing my best and run the extra mile somehow
I walked into class at last – fear faded away into the past
I looked around the classroom full of happy-go-lucky students – life is one huge test
I waited patiently for the teacher and he arrived so fast
Most likely, I didn’t look my best, but I tried to look presentable and leave out all the rest
I assumed that I belonged in the bass section…hopefully, my voice leans that direction
I was holding on to my backpack till I put it under the black chair
I saw my sister on the girls’ side, looking calm and reserved …I was, well, an exception
But, thankfully, I was good enough at hiding my shyness just a hair
Then…the teacher put us into our four sections and we happily accepted it
I was right all along – I did belong in the bass group fortunately
He picked out group leaders and I met eye to eye with him – he seemed legit
He introduced himself to me in a kind manner and smiled in a jiffy
We became friends fast and he taught me how to sing out more – he made me feel like fresh morning dew
He also taught me how to read music more effectively and accurately
His name is Ronald Spriggs and he hung out with my sister and I – we had so much fun and had so much to look forward to
He complimented my voice, so that I can feel comfortable and encouraged me
Lastly, he invited us to a Wednesday night karaoke event
Our cousin was there!
It was awesome – I was surprised how our night went
We lived life without a care…
Our cousin was shocked to see us and gave us a big hug
Ronald, me and my sister sang our hearts out afterwards
Before that, he ate a meal and carried with him a glass mug
Finally, we sang together in harmony like gracious birds
To money
With your power you do many a thing
Like rocking monarchs who ruled over the land
Powerful as you have passed into dust
Rich or poor depend on you for a grand
You seem reaching the needy walking on
Cores of hopes gleam upon many faces
Smile soon disappears when you move away
This is happening since long in races
Do you play games? Ask a common person
You never stood on your legs with any
You may be habituated to wheels
Never mind we if you stay or move on
Enough of you we enjoyed though tested
Won’t you make us live a happy life?
Look carefully into those struggling eyes
Enrich with abundance complimented
I just met a friend on line who
complimented my poems of verse and rhyme.
He saw something in it which I can’t describe.
As if we had became one of a kind.
It was as if I had become the poetry
Instead of it coming out of me.
My poems and I became as one
As the sky with the sun.
This is a feeling which I find hard to
Put into words, like a voice which
Had never been heard,
Like the final door that has to be opened
And you have the key, that will set your
Mind and heart free.
Is there really a point in life
Where we become what we write?
Have I really gotten to such a threshold
Or is it that I’m getting old?
I guess I’m getting old!
For this is the story that I’ve been told.
Ha-ha got to love it !
I wondered how that I could beat at my chest
It has been the worst season ever
A long lost winning, I had less goals to contest
Maybe form isn't in shape but losses have grown me fever
I believed in Arteta, a man of sparkling tactics
Though to Arsenal's favor, we aren't good by statistics
Ridwan scared me to death of his gut
Why would I watch the match?
I would rather stay quiet in my hut
And later ask of the result to save head scratch
It broke my darling precious heart
The one I have learn of Arsenal tore apart
I walked toward shadows so dim
I remembered how true our winning chance is
It definitely make me glimpse of how slim
And how Chelsea would win at ease
A lover, not a hater, yet I questioned my eyes
Will you watch this and be cool in guise?
I barely glance the big black book
The past slipped into a lot of dews
History has on our neck its tight hook
Barely did I read of any good news
Until I pushed it all away and stand fit
To stay come what may and never quit
In anger we were booed of deceitful act
But VAR clarified it isn't like that wasn't enough
Lacazette scored to make it worse intact
And we hope for the better through the tough
I packaged the fearful joy of my heart
Tightly and drove it in a secret noisy cart
A beautiful kick beautify my suspense
Complimented the patient stance
As Zhaka let his wonderful kick condense
A worrying heart playing part at distance
So some started walking away in anger
Most are the old, some young and few younger
I was at a crucial moment as I cried
I nearly cursed some reasoning
Fans cursing players though all tried
Understandable, the play got deepening
If not the essence of test, what is life?
When one side enjoys winning and laugh
She bragged about
Enjoying the embarrassment
Of being rich
She spoke of
Opportunities
That were available
To her thru those
Trends that complimented
What she already knew
And wasn't nervous
About doing
Her strengths were
The Reas n she bragged.
Her weaknesses came from
Those fears she kept hidden
Treasures the shame of
Wealth
Those who long for my
Attention are unattractive
And poor
There needs my ability to
Exploit?
Or might I provide service
To help those who need it.
Violino di Capra
The shoulders or
Hindleggs of
The goat shall
Be brined in
Wine, salts, sugars, honey
Cayenne, garlic, onion
Celery's and peppers
Rosemary, thyme, bay leaves
And the rest of citruses
Perched to cure
The Gods and Goddess
Of gossip minds you.
Gently lying on my bed with my slickly Pink Pajamas,
I fell asleep like a peaceful baby,
then the windows opened in complete excitement,
and the seas breezed in like a stampede,
raising my night dress from legs to Breasts
leaving me nude, cold but blessed,
then came this guy with a bad intention crested on his chest,
I could not picture his face but could see him so well.
As his tongue kiss and lick,
high voltage current crossed my cheek.
the wet flexible muscle moved quite oblique,
then every action from now on seem to click,
causing sensation so quick,
I suddenly became helpless, weak and sick.
He trade his plight on site,
causing hormonal sparks to ignite,
not considering if he is wrong or right,
becoming more real and clean in my sight,
my increasing arousal, making the moment bright.
His groans made the feeling mutual,
producing pleasure beyond the normal ritual,
and making his movement on me so casual,
cupped my Breast to make the feeling factual,
squeezing them like a newly baked dough,
wheezing sounds emerging from my passionate screams,
and making my freezing feet jerk as he plays with the nipples.
Then down the road he goes to my shin,
spreading my legs made the sensation immeasurable,
the gradual heat from his romancing hand, simply unspeakable,
summed up with his commanding domination like a constable,
began an erotic scene so irresistible,
and since I am already grossly susceptible,
I yielded to his masculine touch as though already compatible.
Steadily and slowly, he drives through to my thighs like a convertible,
causing a body rhythm and sensation so explicable.
Caressing them gently as I wished,
reaching the focal point made me feel accomplished,
hoping to treat my secret garden with a mood so selfish,
making it his possession and ecstasy fully nourished,
complimented with a fantasy already established
As he was about penetrating like a beam,
I already reached the next level and ready to swim,
as real as this experience may seem,
I immediately woke up to realize it was just a dream
Freedom
Sweet Maina and witty Parrot,
two pets in my mom's house,
Early morning ate chopped carrot,
and watched cat chasing the mouse.
Parrot repeated everything I spoke,
Maina would sing early morning hymn,
I would go crazy with their every stroke,
as they complimented each other in rhythm.
Getting home quick to play with the two,
always waited eagerly for the last bell to go,
Packing books fast that ended the day's blue,
saw affection in their eyes that ended my woe.
Days, months and years were gone,
sadness in their life I could slowly sense,
My thinking ability as if had sharply grown,
hiding loneliness, joys were a mere pretence.
Reflected in the songs was an unexplained grief,
craving to meet peers their own and embrace,
Freedom only could bring them absolute relief,
soft and kind they were honouring our place.
As I opened door of the cage to ease them fly,
clearly flowed deep love, for years we did share,
Reaching close, hugging to dampen my share of cry,
freedom was boon, spread wings finally afloat in air!
Written November 8th, 2014
For contest 'Fable to the rescue' by Carol Eastman
Awarded 2nd place