Long Cotton Poems
Long Cotton Poems. Below are the most popular long Cotton by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cotton poems by poem length and keyword.
I’m pretty sure cringe is the most modern poetic style
Med-school freshman year is over - finals are over,
and if they aren’t already forgotten they’re fading fast
- my relief feels like achievement.
We haven’t gotten our grades yet, but I’m full
of aggressive patience and prom optimism.
One suspects the grades will arrive soon, but if they’re bad,
I hope they’ll have the decency to wait a couple more weeks.
The thing is, I’m no longer spiraling!
My moods changed from high-anxiety to summer itinerary.
Peter (my bf) and I are swiping-right on freedom, messy as that is.
Our mission is to re-write the entirely accurate school-year emotional-math,
from studies 100, boyfriends 0.
No more lectures, labs, and computer screen-time malaise,
we’ll tackle the ‘loneliness epidemic’ in a hundred ways
- because freedom always begins as a decision.
We’re on our way to the sunny-fair beaches of Heraclee
- on the French Riviera, where heaven’s in easy reach
and life can unwind, unburdened by consequence.
Our mornings will be sun splashed and surf-adjacent - I say,
“If youth must be wasted, make it a littoral squandering.”
In the evenings we’ll chase the dusk on rented bikes,
and watch the local kids flying 3D, sculptured kites.
There’s a rickety old merry-go-round that we can ride all night
on garish, multicolored sea creatures from B-movie features.
Busy Saint Tropez is right down the street (11 miles)
where there’s a rainbow ferris-wheel lit by 160,000 LEDs,
Hawaiian ices, neon lights, dance contests, and cotton candy.
It’s very festival-like, and while music spills from local bars,
we’ll sip umbrella’d concoctions under the stars.
I’ll be wearing cheaply purchased, beach-merch tank-tops,
that I didn’t own last week and I’ll donate in the fall,
with prada silk-mini-skirts so short that they’re practically earrings
- no fashion Interventions please.
.
.
Songs for this:
Hawt Heart by Born At Midnite
Celebration Lover by Chuck Senrick
Smash by Born At Midnite
.
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littoral = seashore
You sail in the wind
along the edge of the globe
The sea with white rippled waves
The sun shines through the sails
which is raining down from a rich universe
Driving wind,
salty lips,
golden wings
on cotton clouds
The longing,
the strength,
wide and blue
The moon and the tide,
eternal renewal
Joy and wonder,
has no end
09/08/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
monogamy ...
shredded by actuality
there, on the cold cotton sheets
lay the discarded remnants of my pride
torn into shameful shards and ragged strips of infidelity
and hidden deep within the shadow of a broken heart
no draft of recompense would be worthy barter
nor apt or artful atonement ... not anymore
I'd spied the cur's face, you see
the blackguard's gaze had found me upon escape
and returned it, did I, with exacting ire
alas, had it the force of a bullet, (oh, haste!)
naught but ruin would have stained those moments
those far-too-brief-but-endless caught-in-the-act moments
yet such looks are only messages, not weapons
besides, it was she with the bloody apron
she who held the blade, firm ... steady
who drew its rusty edge across my heart, and thrust ...
he ... merely twisted it.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "One In Four" Poetry Contest, Joseph May, Judge & Sponsor.
(Line chosen - "Within the shadow of a broken heart")
You are a jeweled gift sparkling diamond rock temple
One of thousand in the world touched petal by petal
Skies above true blue wrapped cotton white emotions
Arches over our earthly plains east to west one circle
Inside silk ribbon feelings tie the knot perfectly
With wings of a swan bound unto you eternally
In you who crowns the heart with passions ignite magic
When the sky was falling into the promised land chants
Carnation of a flower deeply stirring dewdrops rose
In light of the rainbow mountains shone glitter dust
Loving you morning and night never goes out of fashion
Amor helped to ignite flames that burn purely with love
A Collaborated Poem
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid
07.09.2016
(unrhymed couplets)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Favorite Poem Contest
Sponsor:Judy Konos
My sweet
mate love
soul brown
saliva and
drip black
ears soft
floppy as
wag PUPPY snow
tail walk
nose park
wet fluffy
collar as
red cotton
kids petting
from glances
smiles
Written By: Laura Urbaniak
Date:October 3, 2015
1st Place Winner
Thine distorted reflection rippled
within rain maker's pool
upon a midnight clear
full moonlight sonata
flooded shallow abyss,
cleaved fractal structures of silence
reverberating deathly hallow from 'ere
to infinity, whence magic wand
whipped out from
whereabouts unknown
wove disenchanting spell
atop me shaded noggin more'n
fifty ruffle lake suns
Dorian Gray pictured here
to fore, awakened
from drunken stupor,
whence sober self
saw repulsive trouper
fluid dynamic image jeer
at pot bellied, dead panned,
and ad libbed the mere
ore image lam bent,
mutilated spindled
various horrid aspects of
myself nine inch
rusty nails impaired
which, aghast at such
creepy distortion i didst rear
like a bucking bronco unclear
how this horrid, jagged,
limned paragon did wear
a grotesque disfigured Joeseph Conrad
lost within heart of darkness – maybe Zaire
or Zulu-land, this
soaked silhouette half bare
from waist to head showed unmanly
sagging overly engorged breasts
plus right and left elephant sized ear
egad, THAT CANNOT BE ME,
yet upon performing
self exam a glare
ring outburst ensued,
cuz thy once
bronzed handsome physique
now grist for a Joker to jeer
and fodder made
for television series created,
directed, and executed by Norman Lear
which role might be
temporary for Halloween, but near
lee every SINGLE day and night,
thy aged dusk fraught hominid jerked,
leaped, pooh poohed I ham ill prepared
to accept, roistering, rollicking,
rueing this Frankenstein scarred
complex deplorable edifice able,
ready, and willing to be tarred
rather than evince flabbiness,
gruesome homeliness, instance
when no objection would arise
to live out the remaining days of this life
as the world wide web turns, spins, rattles...
and voluntarily sign myself into a stew ward
with (at minimum ), a ghoulish, gnarly,
gummy self activated door
leading to privet hedge row trimmed
topiary resplendent yard
cuz every cotton pickin, friggin,
fingerhut lickin portal iz barred
dated Friday the thirteenth
with **** face on that card!
A grayish blue beluga whale arrived two minutes too late.
The whole committee yelled "no" before half past eight.
Fifteen minutes later, a filthy, smelly camel tromped in,
Making the whole committee laugh out of their skin.
A lion tried to enter, roaring with all of his might.
We knew we couldn't get him back out without a fight.
So we barricaded the door, and we shushed each other,
And we tried not to argue, which was hard for my mother.
There wasn't any problem until three days ago.
We had no beefs, and it had not yet snowed.
Our ideal window washer has been here forever and a day.
He’d be here still if the good Lord had not taken him away.
He was here yesterday, the big, giant cad.
But he's dead now, and we're all spitting mad.
This committee was hastily assembled in the aftermath.
Fred had been here forever and a day, our own smart giraffe.
He’d washed our windows, he’d sorted our mail, he’d spoiled us rotten,
And now he was resting outside in a soft fluffy field of cotton.
“No, sorry, we’d say quickly, without fear.
Wishing Fred would wake up and come running back here.
But the giraffes cannot go on after they're dead,
So we ended up hiring a stack of monkeys instead.
Shadows stretching eastward
Setting sun in daylight lost
Fall creeps in on chilly fingers
Grasses matted by morning frost.
Trees comply ablaze with color
Flashing signals in Autumn’s roust
To feathered, clothed, or furry creatures
Storing food or flying south.
Grey fog gauzing upward
Where Canadas vector in the sky
Above dark waters cooled over night
Honkie-talkie as they fly.
Pumpkins glowing orange
Bundled corn stalks stripped and bound
Freshening winds start groaning-whining
Hints of change for frost bound ground.
Cotton to flannel to fleece and wool
Make ready for winter’s unknown
Top off the firewood, gas, or oil
Secure the harvest - secure the home.
I'm standing on earth, on fresh green grass, with wind softly kissing my cheek.
I feel the blades, between my toes, the softness and calm that I seek.
The sun oozes down, from cotton filled skies, and light embraces the ground.
Colour and light, fill gazing eyes, as its happiness, in which I have found.
I turn my head, in a smooth and slow motion, as light blue turns to dark.
I see an ocean, so astonishingly large, as I stand upon a landmark.
The deep dark blues, that divide the skies, have beauty and wonder within,
The treacle sun that oozes down, upon waters that fish live in.
Turquoise and emerald, navy and gold, the sea glitters upon the light,
As small white boats, will pass on by, through sunset and into the night.
Crantock beach, the end of the road, but the beginning of peaceful mind,
I stand on the hill, and inhale sea breeze, and look at what I can find.
If I look to the sea, I see the calm, and shimmering sun lit waves.
If I look down the cliff edge, I see sharp rocks, where sailors have made their graves.
I look to the beach, and I see my past, a child running with a dog.
Then I look to the skies, where Buster now waits, through the clearness, and the fog.
I exhale my long and glorious breath, as my peace is found down here,
As I stand with my partner, I smile and say, "I know that Buster is near".
I feel at peace, not a care in the world, when I visit my special place,
The only area, in the whole wide world, where the smile never leaves my face.
- i miss you Buster x
.
wrap'd
with tint'did
sun
taut prize'd sheath
drape'd
with cotton
blue
diaphanous sundress
strip'd
with scantiez
no
with scruplez
no
edvard beginz sculpt'en
hern
*the astute artist knowz;
thuh sculpt beginz 'fore
yuh ever touch thuh medium
<]')