Long Daylights Poems
Long Daylights Poems. Below are the most popular long Daylights by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Daylights poems by poem length and keyword.
I speak of the breast best,
mother Mary and her voiceless love.
My pillow-talk told to doves and divas.
And my voice sounds in the whale bone,
in the thunder of workaday ants in their
Brooklyn bodega’s.
The breathless, the brazen
those who bargain and barter
their marketplace musical masterpieces,
let them unsling all vocal vending’s
be they sharp or velvet
in a caroling of living daylights.
Talk is dirt, let our mute fingers plow;
what we say, we say beneath the light
where ancient suns still lay voiceless.
I am a penny opera, you are the
song of the earth, my throat
swallows words
turns them into raw diamonds
for your cleaving,
facets you polish
with chorus and chant.
Where you echo I follow
washing my face in
your timbre and tone.
Deliver us plain into a Voice,
one chord struck as clear
as a chisels gleaming cut.
Utter me in your tongue
and I will croon you in the womb
where a common blood speaks.
Proclaim your revelations in a simple song,
an anthem for us to pray
at the end of our tolerable,
unsung days.
The missus pounded mine posterior...
causing percussive rumpus
Meanwhile good n plenty vibrations resonated
felt and heard round the world wide web
(strongest quaking sensations
occurred upon double mattresses atop bed
within apartment unit b44
2 Highland Manor Drive),
but woody d'ya believe
drumming, flagellating
and whipping gluteus maximus
spurred surging aftershock tremors
launched rocketed pecker
(property yours truly).
Imagine slap happy spouse
ain't misbehavin
just being her playful
(think cheeky) self
knick knack paddy whacking
undeservedly thrashing,
pummeling, beating
the living daylights
buttucks long past their prime
formerly cute palm pilot tushy,
now subjected courtesy
cruel aging process
wrought ugly human cellulite,
nevertheless I made
feeble attempts to rear up in protest
against asinine wifely antics,
while she obviously disregarded
feebly wailing for nought
me lamely uttering
friggin bloody murder in vain.
Zee spouse ain't no sadomasochist,
she just thrills
treating gluteus maximus (mine)
as a plaything
(think cat toying with mouse)
thwacking me fleshy behind
until derriere belonging to yours truly
feels comfortably numb.
Thee aforementioned shenanigans
predominantly arise, when
wedded counterpart owns advantage,
whereby I eagerly welcome shut eye
lo and behold only to experience
mine hinny quickly getting smacked
after I barely shuttered these tired eyelids
sneaking couple winks.
What recently began as
whimsical spur of
kickstarting moment
ushering tactile kibitizing
suddenly became nightly ritual,
whereby this humble husband
meekly surrenders bare bottom
(actually partner with skewed enjoyment
at my expense)
pulls off outer clothes
plus underpants (elasticity
long since stretched out)
wallopping me bum
until flesh heavily
spindled, lacerated, and bruised.
In the waning moments of daylights song;
night birds at rest call softly to the stars
cicadas and crickets noisily sing;
as the golden hour waves goodbye.
Baby deer and ducks look on amazed;
everything goes silent; it’s the edge of night;
a lonely Queen sits, shining her crown;
for nowhere can the golden light stay.
During the dark of night a misty rain falls
touching treetops along the deep valley.
Dripping from branches to rising creeks;
Sleepy eyes carry water from the fountain.
Memories of her float about the fields
from winding paths we feel her presence.
Into the depth of our hearts; the memories speak,
of an old broken tree that used to stand tall.
A hummingbird gently nuzzles a trumpet vine;
the sun falls gracefully upon her passing;
the old queen’s crown shall always shine;
But nowhere can the golden light stay.
Suture, snip, and strife.
Busy, busy, busy.
It shall cut in to you.
Betray the kin in you.
Take you off the tit of Maternity,
on self leave.
While (true).
To your blackened corpse eternity.
Enhance.
Enhance.
Enhance.
Your seductivity-connectivity.
Urban decay, no Rural dismay.
No shame or pity, only legs spread apart for a leg up on opportunity.
Now proliferate, obfuscate.
Make them dance the dance.
Make the war at the gates.
In my spell of trance,
their own distorted reflecting pools,
are shadows in the land.
Let off your steam in the daylights
dark spectrum.
Pontificate the ugly,
strut it around the runway,
as you fly, tucked beneath my wing.
Doves unreleased, choking in my hands.
Spirits unprovoked by right and wrong, Jezebels all,
only self impunity and disappearing
strands,
stringing scar tissue, where the flesh is weak, and willing to fall.
To the whips and chains
that give you my identification bar code stripes to mark your remains.
In the driving reign.
Only too late to discover my best laid plans bleeding you, grave.
Addends, minuend, subtrahends... all Greek
to poor student long haired pencil necked freak.
Damned (internal) revenue stream
plus plugged egress
equals flood of woe
torturous suffocation
of biosphere quite slow
particularly concerning one
Norwegian bachelor farmer from Oslo
amidst the bajillions of people,
one common Joe
(cur) just biden his time
pleading to acquire
much needed dough,
attorney General assistant Lynne Costello
sought out to help yours truly
(to no avail)
hoof hound himself cloven
and rent asunder courtesy
ofttimes mentioned cyber outlaws
preying upon (long in the tooth) fellow
suddenly his entire body electric
being deceived synonymous
with the plot of Iago
in my version starring
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
as none other than Othello
punch drunk as Judy
falling down laughing,
roistering, yammering hysterically
and rolling with a stoned Rockafellow,
whose role as a convincing fall guy
convincingly contradicted himself
as an above board underfellow.
Yours truly voluntarily recruited himself,
cuz he haint been rather astute
therefore welcomes
a swift kick in the derrière
courtesy squared off steel tipped boot
knocking the living daylights
predicated on lovely bonehead moment
linkedin to poppycock that did compute
as sense and sensibility
even suspicious to a deaf-mute
leary toward one extortionist
pièce de résistance, he did execute
and pulled wool over my eyes
analogous to snake charmer
playing magic (Johnson) flute
transfixing yours truly
a dunderhead lunkhead punked galoot
who in hindset could not add up
fishy (worm I going)
oh yeah... virtually nabbed
courtesy cyber bandits,
who gane nary a hoot
prying skewed logistics I impute
to wanna hang myself
courtesy suitable length of jute
tied with Gordian knute
gofundme page welcomes pledging loot
to help me (if you can)
with desired great expectation moot,
hence these lovely bones
when cremated will be transformed
into fine powder
more inert than a newt.
By George P. Lumayag
https://georgelumayag.weebly.com
[email protected]
Lights marching uphill and downhill
On a dark mountain site
With fireflies nesting at midnight
But few young minds work ‘till dawn
Then a cold dew soothes my bone.
Fireflies twit online and I read their poetry
Words on the air I distinguish
They’re young dreamers I wish
Then a spectrum of lights may rise
Surrounded by darkness with distant lights
They need a fruitful sunrise
And I wait for their prolific daylights.
Sparkling lights of art shine online
Then the newly coined words I pen sometimes
For those young minds who carry eight heavy loads
And for these distant lights who digest my arts and words.
Cornwall Security employee has in daylight today exited work vehicle in thousand oaks to initiate false name using another's forcibly removing public utility access from the army corps of engineers in the United States of America. Per declaration
Removing free speech
Time now is 9:59a.m
Interested parties up to the AFL-CIO and all account holders in California have previously been named defendents
Order of city draw from account concludes upon registration entries of harbor house desk pantry fool reception.
As to whom is eating
Typically "fasting" days, rights and laws devolve internment districting rather astutely in history.
That one has as currency and is currently undergoing the burden of halting on side notes for another's labor in a daylights gaining momentum.
Conjectures reposing argument precludes
If I go a whole day without my Wheaties
I'm miserable, grumpy and mean
My Wheaties are really the only thing
Between me and a very bad scene
Beat up little kiddies but they must be little
Like two or three feet high or less
None of those overgrown teenager dudes
My face would end up quite a mess
Don't think badly of me, it's the Wheaties
They provide me with real hutzpah
You best hide the kiddies if I run out of 'em
Hide the axes, knives and chainsaws
I did seek help but the psyche was like me
Needed his Wheaties to cope
Beat the living daylights out of yours truly
Whipped me with his stethoscope
Wheaties are required to maintain stability
So we don't go off the deep end
Had a great big giant bowlful this morning
So relax I'm real mellow again
© Jack Ellison 2013
The haunted train of Schwenksville
After dark every Halloween
since living social in Perkiomen Valley
for seven long years,
a shrill whistle train whistle
(often compared to the sound
of a bird's call, particularly
a large bird like a hawk or a crane,
due to its piercing, high-pitched
and long-lasting whistle-like quality)
soundcloud heard
from afar clear as a bell,
yet nary a train present
since locomotives stopped running
through Schwenksville, Pennsylvania valley in 1976,
when Pennsylvania Railroad
gave up its rail assets
to Consolidated Rail Corporation (Conrail).
However, some passenger "rambles" took place
from Reading to Schwenksville in the late 1960s.
Matter of fact beginning at the junction
of the Schuylkill River Trail in Oaks,
the trail uses much of the former rail bed
of the Perkiomen Line of the Reading Railroad.
The Perkiomen Trail
created in 2003, often called, the “Perky”,
the trail rolls down the valley
of Perkiomen Creek,
which may have been a reference
by local American Indians
to the surrounding cranberry bogs.
The northern end of the trail begins
at Morrow Pavilion in Green Lane Park,
where trail users can find parking and restrooms.
The 20-mile Perkiomen Trail
follows the route of the Perkiomen Creek
from Oaks to Green Lane Borough.
It connects to the Schuylkill River Trail
and the Audubon Loop.
For most of its length, the "Perky,"
known by many, uses the former rail bed
(as iterated earlier)
of the Perkiomen Line of the Reading Railroad.
Every other time of year
outer limits of the twilight zone
spread dark shadows,
which creep along the edge of night
startling a driver unexpectedly
yet instinctually to veer
away from harm's way
courtesy a nocturnal creature,
now ghost rail activity heard to scare
the living daylights
out of atheists like myself,
who quickly utter a prayer
immediately afraid then jubilant,
cuz prevarication (housed within
a ghastly fashion) my métier,
which brilliant notion
sparked immediately, née instantaneously
after discerning unquestionable choo-choo
within a kiloampere,
a unit of measurement equal
to one thousand amperes.
An ampere is defined
as the amount of current
that flows through a conductor
when one coulomb of charge
passes through it in one second.
Golden enchanting warm beautiful magic
falling behind mountains spell binding
A setting sun bows down relinquishing her throne
paints glowing amber clouds faraway in a distant horizon dreams
She smiled while whispering the few very freeing words
while she ran deeper into her bright future
Darkening skies breathing daylights lastly sighs
her last breath glistening gold dancing with the shadows
rippling waves call out inside one thousand echoes
Darkness slowly swallowing light silk satin ebony
The little lights knew it couldn't last
because evil drifts in
as the shadows of the past
Making way for the stars winking silver
Rocked gently side to side on a smiling moon
an eclipsing marriage
when the sun kisses the moon
golden silvery beautiful
This is how we are going to be;
so holy, magic and so great
we carry experience
with the soul and heart to create
A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and
Anne-Lise Andresen :) - 02.01.2015 -
Copyright © All Rights Reserved