Long Crush Poems
Long Crush Poems. Below are the most popular long Crush by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crush poems by poem length and keyword.
Here I stand, a godless monk
Without account, my soul is sunk.
My name won’t make the Book of Life
’Cause I’ve been such a cruel ex-wife.
I cursed you in a thousand ways
(There’s been no “high” in holidays.)
The one with whom anew you’d start:
I wished she’d crush your faithless heart.
I hoped in Leadville the spill you’d take
Would leave your back with chronic ache.
A gleeful anticipation would start to thrive
While imagining you cut a wire live.
So, here’s my prayer, albeit unholy:
I wish my thoughts were a bit less lowly.
If I can’t be good, at least I hope to find God
So I can achieve a peaceful facade.
Though rage may be slow to subside,
This year I hope to turn the tide.
While never shall I wish you well
Next year, no longer I’ll hope you in hell.
Just a girl child, just a woman.
After all's said or done - a human
running through open mind fields
patched with white wheat yield.
Seeds sown groan-grown
piecemeal pockets among throngs
of lilies leaping up in colour song
acapella red, blue, orange, pink
white, yellow - genes garbled ink
across a fertile landscape thrown.
Solomon's glory dethroned.
Symmetry of beauty and form
reflection repeats patterns torn
straight out of tangled bloodlines -
ancestral kaleidoscope redefines
her story as she turns stones
over in a search for the unknown
undistilled divine. Pretty pigments
pile on palette, ready for the brush
with life and death's indifferent
strokes. Will her touchstone crush
Springtime fractals fresh new green?
Old patterns mirror reversion - silkscreen
repeats on new fabric, and paper sheets
are tailor made paper boat fleets
for furious fight and fragile flight.
Sins of the father float her form downstream,
Times gorge rips apart her heart upstream.
Rock hard walls bounce back sing-song
lament and lullaby echoes out of sight...
Today's throes can't dent the past long gone.
Polyphonic sounds stream her away
in rhythmic rituals from day to day...
Hope will not fade to whispers feather light,
further on in future's distant sight.
In sunrise sky life flies up proud-
Her heart echo beats in time, are loud.
Doves and Eagles, lowly or great in their own just right,
know no fear of unknown depths or unknown heights.
Airfields are heaven high above, or on earth below...
Wingtips merely move over heads of wheat,
While lily leaves are sunshields in the heat.
Aqua Marine. Just Musing.
Posted 3rd November 2024.
Politicians are the devil's foot soldiers.
The media hones their swords.
They crush the walls of our faith.
To them, our tomorrow is a disposable baby
conceived in the rage of rape.
They yearn to guzzle power.
Always putting knees to our necks.
They play us like broken piano wires
and we dance straight into the purring fire.
We've invited their poison into our veins
our discomfort has always been their gain.
Wake up, folks, they're playing ball and jacks in our heads
and shell games with our peace and happiness.
Politicians are the devil's foot soldiers
and the media hone their swords.
You can't read a mind, but you can read a face
Just watch over time to see emotions that race
Expressions revealing rejection or jeers.
Enough to chill anyone, confirm paranoid fears.
There's the expression "We will crush you"
And "You just don't get it, but we hate you."
A face that can't hide a nasty plan
What can I do? I'm just one man.
There's the face that says I'm a cloying fool
Then there's tones I never heard in school
There's the tone of dripping contempt
How do I deflect that, even make an attempt?
There's the face rehearsing how he'll beat me to a pulp
I look at it and let out a nervous gulp.
Skeptics say I expect to see, then I fill in
But if half is true, my future is grim.
The are the words too, that sometimes come along
But the interesting aspect is the rest of the song
Maybe it's the brain controlling muscles, controlling eyes
That makes the inner feeling break through the disguise.
This preceded talking, in our evolutionary past
Another way of knowing, that some dismiss too fast.
You can know much about a man, just by the way he laughs
Know with who to hunt the wildebeest, with who to forge your path.
A stairway that leads to the white borders,
Of edges pointed where condensation forms.
Untainted transparency reflects the glaring Sun,
At the side cushions of white and brown
- a tired mind's sanctuary.
Stilted conversations fly across spilled drinks,
Become waste with a price unreasoned.
Men and women sit alike but have unlike minds,
Choke on bitter tea upon nostrils they spit.
Black souls served behind the counter,
Plastered confidentiality jealousy arises might,
For alas one hands a slice of chocolate cake
To a girl of crippling thoughts; alone, desolated
Tongue twisted around the fork her heart quickened
Tripping guilt lies on the plate she ate at previous.
Angriness burned bright fueled by unlike minds,
Reflections obvious once darkness spread fast,
Acid of sweetness churned in her stomach,
Fullness unbearable calls the unwanted desire
To leave the Glasshouse, to go home and purge.
Somehow their eyes met and he smiled
Was it wrongful for her to feel glee,
So tad yet so pure?
Form:
“FAKE” Festering Marital Spite Only Backfired...
More than a bajillion painful eons
after pledging troth
with thee missus,
whom I definitely blindly wed
comprised great ta ra ra boom
de ay ye blood red
boomerang/ domino pizza pie
effect pronouncing lead
din saucy impact inducing
mushrooming reverberations,
she continuously smacks me with dread
naught (Hawaiian punch style)
upside the head
jarring delicate anatomical
soft as freshly baked bread
gray matter, qua delicate
psyche got skull fully outspread
knocking down intelligent quotient
less than porcine Nellie, one smart
pig in poke farmstead,
where unseen hemorrhaging bled
scarring, seething, and suffering
practically indelible contusions
finds me whirling back from Sheepshead
Bay to stone age of Fred
Flintstone, where shmoo zing schwilly
found yours comfortably numb,
and yet kept on truckin as if grateful dead,
asper decades worth oven
po' whetted unleavened bread.
This insufferable afflicted
brow beaten doughless bro
tantamount, viz time
and again forced to eat crow
yes (ma pet) even as prank no
joking even derided by (thanks to Yo
yo ma spouse) innocent looking Elmo
nsync with mouths of scared
bullies vitriol, which did flow
exploding like embers
kindled within me plenti glow
wing with blood lust vengeance
antithesis trademarked ho ho ho
wing of Santa Claus, intending
to crush indomitable of this Joe,
whose spit fired spirit, also
suffered strafed bruised flesh
indistinguishable from indigo
girls or goo goo dolls know
wing no better than dodo
bird than besiege this hobo!
Black Night! Black Thoughts!
merging into one
No sword shall sever this Gordian knot
that binds my being
in thoughts of longing and despair
My tortured soul cries out
filled with a longing
to crush the things that torment me so
I see them with the mind's eye
and would strangle them
but they recede into the shadows of night
to mock me anew in ripened time
But now let my soul be at rest
even for a fleeting moment
for I am free
Free!
The very sound is music to my ear
filling the mind with such fantasies
that leap to the heavens
and leaves me panting just alive
As a man who is spent
I rest
and waves of gentleness flood my soul
The thought of a tender kiss
the smell of a rose
Jove's nectar
soothes my being
and sets my soul at ease
to gather up courage
to face another day
Step one:Go to the bus stop and be quiet (Meet the person who you would want to fight for)
Step two:Go to school always sitting next to your partner (Really you wanted to sit next to the person you just met at the stop)
Step three:Always talk to them for a few weeks (Smile at them when they are at school)
Step four:you don’t see them so you go to school with a friend (They end up telling you he’s dead)
Step five: Till this day you can’t say goodbye (You loved him and you never could say those three words that day you were told because you had a plan to tell him and you were feeling bold)
I can’t believe it’s been a year since she’s passed away,
But the memories I have keep her alive in my heart.
I always thought that I’d see her again someday,
But I guess life got in the way and kept us apart.
I regret the fact that I didn’t take the time to keep in touch.
She was always a good friend to when we were younger.
We went to different schools, but attended the same church.
We always had a lot to talk about when we were together.
I had a crush on her from the very beginning,
But I’m quite certain that she never even knew.
I enjoyed her company because she love many things
And she saw the bright side of everything, too.
When we were in high school, we went on a retreat.
It was a church event with many of our friends.
Pam was so excited about all the people she’d meet
She could hardly sit still during the whole weekend.
One of the fondest memories of my time spent with her
Is from Sunday, July Tenth, Nineteen Eighty-Eight.
We went on a day trip to an amusement park together.
It was one of the best times I’ve ever had on a date.
Pam was eager to go on all of the rides.
She wasn’t afraid to be the first in line.
I was very happy to spend the day by her side,
And quite fortunate to call her a friend of mine.
Pam was the kind of person who always smiled.
One of the things I miss most is her laugh.
She always made others feel worthwhile.
Pam was the friend that everyone was glad to have.
crushing defeat
in
abyss
of
nostalgia
for
overnight
reminds me
of
you
& city lulls
tumult
of
memories
from
neolithic
times
to
celebrate
words
of
believer
of
love
& soulmates
listen
to
chirping
of
birds
mellifluous
sounds
in
perfect
balance
of
angst
& blithe
similar
to
heartbeats
when
colliding
of
love
happens
&
dusk
unhappens
smiling
teasing
holding
hands
in
belatedly
yin
& yang
in
Edenic
dreams
psalms
of
spring
breathlessly
blossom
beyond
blurred
verses
&
cursed
cravings
covets
kissing
&
erupting
under
elysian
edging
achings
drip
in
gold
& cream
to
smitten
singing
a
name
with
brilliance
& limitless
pleasure
Written: April 04, 2023
2nd place contest winner
A Brian Strand Premiere No 1206 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
NOTE::THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' (intuitive cadence)& so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.