Long Compliments Poems
Long Compliments Poems. Below are the most popular long Compliments by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Compliments poems by poem length and keyword.
I see you each day in that big department store.
You have all the good looks many men would adore.
Your silky blonde hair compliments your bright blue eyes.
Such attractiveness is easy to realize.
Every day, you are standing there in the same place.
It is not hard to notice that beautiful face.
You always seem to be staring out into space
as you are exhibiting such poise, style, and grace.
You wear something different each time I see you.
It may be tights, jeans, jumpsuit, or dress of blue.
Whatever you are wearing looks so good on you.
I hear soon you will be replaced with something new.
The store is undergoing some more transition.
Another will be standing in your position.
Soon, you will be replaced with a new successor,
and destined to the fate of your predecessor.
When they disassemble your head, legs, and arms,
you will no longer possess any of your charms.
I'm sick and tired
of apologizing for who I am
whether or not I offended someone,
I don't want to be hated.
it seems as almost as if to be hated
is like being banished to Antartica
where the cold cuts through your bones, such a painful winter
What have I become
like a beaten down dog I
put my head down, slither away from confrontation
I used to be fun...
I used to have *****.
Compliments have become insincere and wrong
because the way the mirror's light bends across my waist, has become something I hate my self
doubts blinded my eyes from what's staring me right in my face
This is who I am, I'll grab my shadow from my past before the day when it's entirely gone
I'm going to yank myself up like a marionnette
Hold my head high, and defend my honour from those who try to disgrace it
splash cold water across my face to wash away my cynical beliefs
stare into the looking glass and be proud of me
Form:
Better than before
maybe this is the best
we doing our thing
and I must confess
i heard your tenors tone
through the cigar smoke
I laughed along when you
told that joke
you know the one with
the two baritones
the one who loved the soloist
and who wished to be alone
when he serenaded
the pretty woman
all stopped to see what
was going on
she smiled one day
and spoke his name
it changed everything
it rearranged
that's how I want it
with my gal
just like that
just like that
Gotta man thinking
he can be your everything
Thats the kinda joy
true love brings
gotta man changing from fool
to a man
thats the kinda woman
who compliments her man
got me feeling
you got me feeling this way
what can I say to those
that opposse
when they frown
and turn up there nose
what kinda words
makes everything okay
Can't satisfy everyone
work real hard
and have alot of fun
you got ah
fella feeling this way
I love my Lady
I'm her man
she's my Lady
I'm her Man!
The world roars wild wails of displeasure
Of contempt, of dissolution
Of amendment, of all and all
Yet one another we Jealous
And you I think I am
Profoundly ignorant of the heat
Carrying your Shoe is.
How amusing and insanely pathetic
But may, you also crave same thought
Wishing you be me or him or her
Or them but yourself
Never mindful or say Less thoughtful
Of mine, his, her or their hidden damness
Another insanely pathetic amusement
But, ever asked your pillow?
If all ate one food, all loved one color (All, in one taste)
All wore one fabric, all endured one occupation (All, in one way)
All loved one woman, all submitted to one man (All, caught in one web)
Where would the joy of difference and indifference lie?
Who would carry the excitement of exploration?
And bid the hunger for Adventure?
Who would smile to the diversity of nature
And cry to the intensity of pain?
Who would conceit in admiral admiration
Of the supremacy of our creator?
Who would even call you beauty and him handsome?
Or never know you that these compliments are lives in disguise?
See? We all and all we wish of another
Are but seem vain unconscious desires of lost hands
For by reason nature has called you Blue
And him Red and me Green
That by aggregation our offspring
Shall sprout out in abundance
Of our outstanding uniqueness
And all praise our creator be.
So, why the why him and not me illusion?
Hmm,
The world roars wild wails of displeasure
Of contempt, of dissolution
Of amendment, of all and all
And the Irony continues to build strong.
Old oak takes time to grow intense
Each year tumbles wrinkled leaves before the snow
Slow in the morning to rise higher
Shad covers mortality below
Cracking branches show maturity
Limp on the timber twigs
Lingering still beneath cold bark
Sparrow eggs in nesting homes up there
Oval is their nature; wait to crack
Smaller birds spin blue and yellow
Weave speed like magic on the air
Through dark ages of green foliage
Collisions are rare while darting tangled obstacles
In an out instinctively
Old oak compliments the activity
With good intentions the tree holds fast
Bare to exposure, the fragility of life
Through the mortal edge birds fly
I am Charmin’s favorite jacket, I feel her love.
Hiding out in the closet, with her hat above.
She likes to hold me very tightly and near.
We twirl together in front of her mirror.
I am a navy trench coat with a sharp little belt.
I have deep pockets, and a collar of soft tailored felt.
I am sharp, everyone compliments us when we’re out.
One day she loaned me, what was that all about?
I felt used, abused, enormously mad and incredibly sad.
I tried not to look perky, on the friend of her Dad.
She looked in the mirror but she did not see me at all.
She was a blonde woman, way skinny and tall.
Here is Charmin; she is giving me a light little brush.
There was a hair on my shoulder; a tiny speck of blush.
Don’t loan me out ever again! I tell her in a very stern way.
I am always her baby, each and every rainy Sunday!
Rains of compliments, floods of gifts,
unmatched gestures so pleasant, adequately accentuated by smiles,
obvious and noticeable, giving all the gratitude they deserve,
“thank you sir, I’m very grateful” became a constant in my speech.
My thanks, a huge but dangerous encouragement,
regularly visiting my desk and flirting in front of other colleagues.
All is normal in a man’s world
and happiness has always been my appropriate reaction
A boss acting timid is now a battalion of guts,
throwing abstract kisses and presenting sexual curiosity on a slideshow
with the jealousy of other surrounding females,
makes me reciprocate with a sense of flattery
Everything seem to go too fast,
unmerited favours convert me to a common enemy.
I’m worried, I’m concerned and I’m scared
But I’ll give him a chance of my attention to change this.
Misconception of the situation is inevitable,
his hands picknicking with my behind uninvited.
Everything suddenly stopped! Not without a resounding slap.
Then I tender my resignation
before a chain of more disrespect would follow
Old love can always make a plot.
Either living or dead it always has its spot
You wish to speak but you don’t know how
You reach for memories for the way out
Out of silence into shouts.
Out of strangers into clout
Out of damnation into salvation
Into reality of what it was all about
A few words of memories from out the cloud
The feeling of empathy growing from the ground
Which would be better the wind or a saw
Is silence a weapon or just a flaw
We don’t have to go back it isn't a law
I am what I am the same as what you saw
Am I just beginning or learning to crawl
I don’t need compliments or attention at all
Just give the understanding I no longer fall
You were special and that you’ll always be
And the time we spent together
You’ll never take from me
From nothing I came into what would be
A memory or clash what's to become of me
A shadow of marriage and then divorce
Words were wedding bells
My absence the fatal course
Words become admission and guilt
They also become the sorrow that is felt
Forgiveness would be a word or two
These words I speak you know only you
All I ask is just a picture of you
Just a reminder of that thing you do
I hold my sides wearily
pondering the lengths and strides I still have to take until I am authentic
My lies have become piled so high.... I have a lot of damage repair to do before this struggle
is through.
Afraid to expose the vulnerable
I stare in confusion in front of the looking mirror, trying to distinguish where exactly it was
where my smile
Lay down, gave up and died.
Weakened from my mind's inner war zone turmoil
Your compliments are cynical shrapnel to my confidence
Rebellious relentless disbelieving that I am what I know I am unique and
Pulchritudinous
I walk an unsteady line
tight rope of apprehensiveness
Unconfident
I want to let my hair down and just breathe..listen to the drip drop of a waterfall and sleep.
I remind myself to Speak with Conviction
I know
I am no longer powerless
dependent on desperately trying to win your approval, you will never be affectionate
I will not be Subservient or put myself at risk for the harms way of that subjection
Impotent of love you were feeble and weak, feeding on my youth and purity.
I resurrected my heart with the my rocket fuel beating life back into my chest.
It's a combination of
Passion, devotion, infatuation and a couple of years worth of
Tears, and sweat
It's a metronome of my steadiness
Invigorated from my second chance
Defiant to self doubt
I valiantly confront challenges that used to make me shake in my converse shoes.
Mother would patschke
early that day in the kitchen,
and recruit any guest, who
blindly ambled thru front door
suddenly trapped unwittingly
squarely (triangulated) into kitchen
forcibly impressed to help
set up buffet tables
and/or given carte blanche to prepare
some mysterious dish,
(a hodgepodge of ingredients),
that suffered no shortages of compliments
unfortunately could never be duplicated.
Guests harkened far and wide
word of mouth boastful rantings and ravings
superseded culinary Michelin Guides
to dole out seven stars,
which wordsworth meant "exceptional cuisine
promised hungry visitor
a special satisfactory journey."
"Time to eat" (usually bellowed courtesy father)
generated an orderly stampede to jostle in line
and commence maximizing capacity
testing sturdiness disposable plates could hold
scouting, shoe horning, staking...
place to become comfortably numb with satiation.
Amidst various and sundry masticating jaws
(with each respective mouthful
of food glorious food -
cue said Oliver Twist song title)
followed by draught of spirits
ejaculations of delight issued,
and punctuated the sound of silence
when not additionally interrupted
courtesy sibilant crackling
popping, and snapping
wood burning stove,
which aforementioned heat source
lulled well fed tummies
whereby heavy eyelids drooped
while heads sank into chest.
No matter hunger pangs quieted
evidenced by casserole, glass, pyrex...
scraped clean rumors heralding dessert
quickly awoke wine weary souls
analogous to sluggish animals
awakening out their hibernation,
when self anointed maître d'
showcased good n plenti desserts
(pies, ice cream, cookies and cakes galore)
she made house special
comprising secret ingredients.
Upon being stuffed to the hilt
(dear kith and kin mother
all counted as family
think taxidermist specimen
readied for mounting)
all pledged a unanimous
New year's resolution
vouchsafed to start on diet
come January first.