Long Covers Poems
Long Covers Poems. Below are the most popular long Covers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Covers poems by poem length and keyword.
Adult X
_____________________________
Two sets of eyes locked in trance,
sexually speaking in advance
You know, I know she says
as if the answer was already yes.
Two sets of hands embrace,
both sets of feet move in pace
two sets of clothes hit the floor
they both turn and lock the door.
Both then untuck the covers,
such are two passionate lovers
both locked in mortal sin
both letting the other in.
Two sets of hearts loudly beating,
both with hunger needing feedings
two sets of lips connecting
gasp and moans and lots of sweating.
Two sets of moans loudly speaking
both sticky from the leaking
both spooning with the other
two people who love each other.
Sometimes in the heat of passion,
there are love and lust and even laughing
at least there will be no crying
for pleasure felt has no denying.
8/16/14-Jessica Thompson
Clothed in Season of Mists and Mellow Fruitfulness-
Autumn-Naked in translucent clouding dusk;
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness”
Your illusionist premises grandeur;
Fallen autumn, calm leaves me;
Brisk equinox clothed in breeze;
Over whelming weathers your view
Spring-Lavender spirit smells your soul;
Misted aire fallen dew;
Season of mist spring may I kiss you;
Midnight comes covers you;
Black clothed in dark;
Still a silken view;
Season change your wardrobe to;
Mist of autumn destitute;
Winter-Now falls winter time briskly shines;
The dew now snow, white you’re wearing;
Falling hanging down to your ankles;
Your illusionist premises grandeur;
Darling beautiful environmental dresses you wear;
Skies/sky-blue and white the color of your hair;
O’ as mine eyes witness…your;
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness”
Summer-Naked in ablaze in heated glare ;
Smoking people stare it’s so hot skin vapors liken a mirror;
Humid wears you the silken fabrics;
O’ as mine eyes witness…your;
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness”
1/29/20
For Famous poetic lines that inspire Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” Line By John Keats
I am an apostle
a listener
a Christian
am I yet not a child of God
I am mankind thinks it's odd
that I am a follower
Of a just just God
I hear the birds sing
I see the sunrise
In the mountains call out his name
The Fountain of holy Waters cover my friend
I am a follower in Jesus name
I am a flower of the king
I am a child of God
You think it's odd
I am a partaker
I am all things to all men
I am all things to all men
and did I mention I am all things to all men
I'm a minister, a teacher, a mother, a father,
a sister and a brother
I am a disciple, I am a temple, I am and I am
I am all things to all men for though I preach the gospel
I have nothing to Glory of All things
Are of the Lord's for one to me that if I preach not
For if I do still not but to do so willingly I'll be okay
And this we say I hear the birds sing
I see the sun arising
The monsters 3 call out my name
Where am I
The Fountains of holy water covers my friend
I am an apostle a listening a Christian and a child of the king
I am mankind thinks that I am this is quite odd
That I am a follower of all righteous God
I am all things to all men Hallelujah
10/16/02
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
Arranged music by Laphonso Thomas for Zozo music and corporated/ZOE Mii e
Of pale melancholy
And the infinite fall
Of broken machinery
Cast upon vast shores
Decimation reservation
The prodigal son returns
Jagged reigns of jaded egos
Amber suns stretching upon seas of sanctuary
Blue oysters cast a cult of personality
Here is where the mechanicals recoiled
Gears turned deep inside the obelisk
Onyx realms reaching to monolithic cities
Blacken the sky is on fire of desolations dawn
Volumes fills my fancies with arcane dreams
Milky white universe’s immaculate ejaculate dynastic
Covers pale melancholy machinery of it…
Drips and drains into serenity
Tides borne cryptic things from ancient depths
Fathoms different shores
Odd engines images forges, engages, enrages
Facades of the Deities
Castings from altered shores
Drudged up in desolate depths
Dark quagmires in nightmares explore
The Melancholy and pale machines implore
Something fetal feral twisted engorged
An abomination spills upon the floor
A pale machine of marrow and blood
In spines broken bones
Hooked finger Nails Nine Inches long
Pitch black eyes watch a haloed star
Of holocaustic blooms
In infernal flowers, flames, flurries
Something seeps, creeps, down deep, furies
Lurches on to heavens door
Breeds, seeds, forsaken monstrosities
Of pale machinery and mythic beings,
The melancholy of humanity,
A pale something expires
Eternal winter of
Broken Machinery
cast upon vast moonlit shores
Where am I
"A Silent Song"
Mirror Mirror on the Wall
Blessed or cursed
Morning shave
Coffee please
Write a verse
Remembers last night’s dream
Grabs a napkin, spills his spleen
Shoves it in his pocket
Walks to work
Sits at his desk
Carries on as usual
Chats on with the new study,
he’s on a roll, softly flirts
Quietly, silently, it always works
Groundhog Day that’s the worst,
Where’s the breaker to dive under it all
Every now and then a Tempest is called for
A heavenly thunderous squall
Just to shake it up
Move through the strung out long day pall
Cover his mirror with her fog and all
All the while
He’s talking it up, little work day dramas
Meetings minute cutlass pen thrust
Business as usual, balls to bust
Still underneath it all he’s thinking the stories frame by frame
She whispers out of nowhere ethereal in his brain,
“The best story is yet to arrive, it’s only the middle of the day…
maybe some gold glitter, a Llama and a Toucan that sashays?”
Empath on his knees by midnight
He’s writing melancholic love songs
The words are tight, verses short
Not long, he’s thinking Turtle Doves and short skirts
That won’t work…
scrawls it out, writing’s gone with the wind,
The best words for the story don’t take too long
He listens to some music, thinks of her and sings a new song.
Mirror Mirror on the Wall
Dreams flourish dripping words
black on white her familiar screen
pounding faster like raging horses hooves and heart beats
bleed vibrant colors mystic legions of wars and lovers
a foreign sovereignty her mind and wily covers her pageantry
Her eyes the windows of her world
Wings beating flying free
Cages broken, horses hooves hearts racing
She follows him on another shore a dream by sea
Praying prophecies
Empath on her knees
Two very different minds
Free to be
(Lovejoy-Burton/Feb 2018)
Music/ Paolo Conte, "Sparring Partner"
https://youtu.be/tzjdY5rmpCA
The night air flowed over my breath
The covers not quite keeping me warm
Dreams caressing my past
My lover whispers in my ear
Sweet words, with her loving touch
Times long ago, where tenderness would flow
Her perfume flys away with the wind
Happy days my only true possessions
ahhh but love is not as it once was
Age makes the windmill turn slower
My lover caressing my pain
Raindrops falling, aroused in the wet rain
She my life, now I live with thoughts inane
Shivering,
She releases me from both pleasure and pain
Dreams of her splatter all over on top
My cover only a cardboard box
Wet from the weather
in the alley where I sleep
At dawn, there is a sharp pain in my rib
"out your bum, get the hell away"
Kicked and bruised I grab what I can
All I can think of is to run run run
Limping, onwards to the park
I feel a firm hand take hold of me
Stop young man, its raining cant you see?
Shocked I try to escape, fear invades me
In a softer tone the man says
Come with me son, out of the rain
The shelter is over there, close to your park
A warm meal, and and fresh bath will do you good
Father O'Brien pats the new one Davey on the back
Welcome son, here's a book if you care to read
Davey still in skeptical mode, being treated as human
Father O'Brien see this in his heavy eyes
He looks at Davey and whispers
I was once you, you see
The hand of love
Can mend a thousand hearts
When like the seeds of blooming flowers
We spread the love we were handed
Time swiftly covers our way,
washing away our footprints,
as the sea upon the beach,
clearing it that we can write anew,
the things of each new day,
and in each new day,
time covers more of our life,
more that washed from our mind,
and although we lose much,
still we gain more in its place,
some that is worth more to us,
and too some that is not,
and of all we learn,
some of it will not be of our choosing,
will become lost to us,
and in this we change,
and are not tomorrow,
as we were today,
yet of what today we learn,
in tomorrow we will become,
for we can only be,
that which we have learned,
and of which we remember.
The whole world stopped turning,
and the air had run stale.
No, I cannot lie,
you've before heard this tale.
A desperate endeavor,
a pathetic attempt.
I, again, offer love,
but am met with contempt.
My soul is bled dry,
and my corpse left to hang.
My bones are left broken;
incomparable pain.
Another deception-
just more lies of a love.
At this point, he's killing me;
slow, just for fun.
He draws out my pain
as he carves out my tongue.
And reminds me my dream,
it will never become.
For all that I've wanted-
out of this dreadful life..
..was to simply be heard
through my hurt and my Strife.
He shamelessy smiles
as he tears out the rest.
Finds more pleasure in this
than he'll ever admit.
Can't be heard with no tongue!
And to him, it's no matter.
He tells me he's sorry,
and that things will get better.
But next on his list
are my ears and my eyes.
And its all for the sake
of maintaining his lies.
"You're simply unworthy",
what he says as he burns them.
Taking care to make sure
I can't use them against him.
But for some odd reason,
(?) still find out his deeds.
Pain too much to bear,
and I fall to my knees.
I'm mute, deaf and blind now,
so it does not matter.
At least, not to him;
as my heart, he still shatters.
Skin me alive-
(and) string me up a noose.
For I cannot handle
this deadly abuse.
Pushing me to the edge
just to see if I'll fall.
There is no pain in hurting me;
no remorse afterall.
A motionless face,
as he makes his decisions.
You see, he doesn't care
(as) long as there's no witnesses.
I'm dying in silence,
all alone behind doors.
Can no longer be heard,
as blood covers the floors.
I bleed & I bleed,
wishing I would just go.
For if I'm not worth loving,
I do not want to know.
Mutilated, dismembered;
my body in pieces.
But it does not compare
to what level my grief is.
I've wondered why this
is the way that I'm "Loved".
Or if I deserve it
for something I've done.
In the end makes no difference;
bleeding like a stuck pig.
Maybe, this time I'll die,
so my pain finally ends.
Pink Angels
In other universes not our own
Birth of angels comes on cuddled breath
Billions of them at a time spring forth
Soar from the cosmic womb
Holy Spirit sees to that with blinding ghost like speed
By the warmth, formed, translucent wings, unraveled mysteries
Long thin hair covers every solid soul
They fly and dance with stars
With instant knowledge from the start
Though they were only born today
Prayer and play come so easy
No force is needed in the dark
They find humanity in galaxies not named
Pink Angels hold sins like lit dynamite in amazement
Large round eyes figure things out quick
They are calm about their business
Blowing sins and all that goes with it
Into oblivion in just an instant
“Kafka Disordered”
Kafka disordered
never complete
in himself
burning stories
fuel for Nero
dreams of you
reading him
wrapt under
the covers
of his last pages
tattooing his voice
on your tongue
lips pass keys
legs entwined
love notes
never run
Metamorphosis
the trial
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Mirror Forever" / Weyes Blood
https://youtu.be/tQ1CH2_Arws
"Andromeda" / Weyes Blood
https://youtu.be/Aki1Xn36eJ8
“Every thing you love
is very likely to be lost,
but in the end,
love will return
in a different way.”
Franz Kafka
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Kafka
https://penelope.uchicago.edu/~grout/encyclopaedia_romana/gladiators/nero.html
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_macguffin_1054682
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MacGuffin
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizoid_personality_disorder