Long Desires Poems
Long Desires Poems. Below are the most popular long Desires by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Desires poems by poem length and keyword.
We the victim's of incompetence
We the pawns of vain experiments
Imprisoned by oligarchic, social engine.
Our pains, reflected by gluttonous pride.
Fermenting in black boil bubbling greed
Modern slavery in it's prime, glistening
like polished diamond shine.
All pretentious, phoney entrapment,
lurking through time, the ideal system,
for a criminal eye, the perfect crook,
filtered on a system it built, it impressed,
and we undertook, now just mere
puppets,
Upon the ladder of fingers,
The shadow composer casting the melody
of subjugated illusion, laughing at ease,
gazing upon their resolution.
A famine of needs and desires, tortured
by the selected lot, who mock as we rot,
in the mould around the bars of our cot.
The misleading consequence of
innocence, of ignorance, of vulnerability.
The digital web of deception, ripples in
shuddered glee, it's next victim
screaming, and then hushed silently
among those chambers of conformity, an
commodity given a number and then
freed, for some years.
Next it's taught to adhere to the
requirement of 'our' society,
Pushed through any resistance,
Your ADD, labeled and branded for all to
see, your defunct from a higher form, an
acceptable sense of reality, the easier
chores of slavery,
and less material distraction, an extra
penalty.
In the sinister sweating perversion,
The passive exodus that moves in night
and day excursions, fossiled in a lava of
weary confusion.
We are the lost Generation on a path we
cannot see, in a destiny that isn't you and
isn't me.
Under a blue moon
He becomes my dream
A secret uncloaked
Emotion unveiled
A mystery revealed
Existence of warmth
between my subconscious
and implicit knowledge
..And it is there
`Neath the soft spot
of this heart
where crimson bleeds
its velvets
upon his bare breath
It is there
where my blushed lips
loose their virginity
Where my fair cheeks
suffuse with rosy glow
It is there where
fiery needs are fulfilled
Fervent desires scorched
Candlelit pleasures beheld
It is there
where alluring visions embrace
my suppressed memory
and take over this barren soul
As his ardent voice calls
in an enticing whisper
and a unique accent
into my left ear
My love...
Mon petite fleur..
Mi amor...
That is a preserved time
An uncloned moment
where my unwholiness
becomes whole
That is the minute
His glancing eyes
capture my own
Only until...
Mr Sandman leaves behind
Dry proposals on wet sand
Early mist envelops the bridge
Aurora glows in new awakening
Last zephyr breeze
fades from my cheek
Then He is gone
Forever gone
A revised repost~Not for the rose contest..but thanks for Vie's Roses contest and wonderful Rose poems
I decided to revise this post and repost,till the muse plays along.
In a quiet corner of the world, where shadows dance with illusions in steps of story,
Every four years a desert dream is reborn, a dream that a gentle soul will come to soothe,
The deep wounds of this world, but oh, what sweet deception, the sirens sing so sweetly,
Drawing us into the depths of delusion, for the president, that puppeteer without strings, is just a face carved,
In the sand of time, not chosen to lead, but to distract, to deceive our weary gaze,
With false hopes, with promises that melt under the sun's rays, leaving only echoes.
The world is run by unseen bureaucrats, by politicians with glass smiles,
Where the ultimate goal is a frenetic dance, of production and consumption,
We are caught in the whirlpool of desires that are not our own, a dance of others,
And it is whispered to us that only those who rely on themselves, those who do not lose themselves in illusions,
See the truth beyond the mask of power, are not enchanted by the gray temples,
Of false wisdom or the mystical power of a voice that resounds deeply.
They, the few, who do not seek support in others, but find within themselves springs of courage,
See how the president becomes a broken mirror, of our fears and hopes,
A controversial figure, fascinating through its contradictions, a master of outrage,
A magician of attention, an illusionist of power without power, just a shadow in the moonlight.
And in this theater of the absurd, where every choice is an act of faith,
Every vote, a dream sold on the stall of empty promises, we ask ourselves,
When will we open our eyes to see that we are the change that waits,
Beyond the curtain of illusions lies a world waiting to be recreated,
By our hands, by our unfettered will, by dreams that are not naive,
But powerful, rising like a new morning in the light of truth.
With every step you`ve taught me, this is my elaboration...
The motherly love, unique to all individuals
however, some not as fortunate as others.
Some born with silver spoons, to extreme empty rice bowls
love that portrays from your own, i do have a jewel.
A family of six, working the majority of her life,2 jobs
She being in her 74th year, active driving her car.
The thoughtfulness, caring for others, her nature that is
her everyday commodity, asking nothing in return.
Her humour, personality eclipses her wide knowledge wisdom, understanding.
Her home cooking, like when were kids delicious as
her Sunday roast, still serving them today
i can`t tell you the extent of gratitude, but you know i love you.
Now 14 years since this was penned, much change has evolved,
your age health taken you down a path of decline.
My pathway of Jesus the new Messiah, making a new identity
and spiritually intertwining, i filter out the dross, bringing you into MINE.
I spoke and told you before, " AS IT WAS WITH MARY , SO SHALL IT BE WITH YOU." You don`t understand. Mary gave birth to Jesus, also did YOU.
To be born into sin, this time around, to be born again, and go through
sheer Hell and filter out the evil for my Fathers purpose to...
Be took to Heaven and transformed into a new man new purposes new desires
to untangle and put straight the confusion and straighten cross wires.
For spiritual awakening enhancements authority to make changes in you
to kick out the devil and for you to SEE what is TRUE.
To restore to erase and replace, the hurts the pains the shame lies and guilt
for heaven and the results of the cross inside me is built.
As i spiritually destroy the works of Satan, the pains are so immense.
I know that you`re suffering as equal, to go through evil no man has suffered, so you are suffering too, to reach the other side of the fence.
Its all for LOVE, your rewards are heaped in heaven without measure
the pains today are being transferred to Heavenly treasure.
AS IT WAS WITH MARY SO SHALL IT BE WITH YOU , ROYALTY.
With much love from your son Jesus Paul xx
Written 2011 updated 2025
Paul Beadnall for:
Sponsor ~ ~
Contest Name Any Mother Poem*(Originally Give a Kiss Mommy)
He collected false teeth
Vintage wooden legs
Ancient wooden clogs
Toed with metal segs.
He hoarded his collections
Hidden out of sight
Would peruse them with joy
In the middle of the night.
He moved on to hairpieces
And didn’t give a fig
About the methods he used
To acquire a new wig.
When he met Mary Jones
New desires entered His life
Which became full of joy when
She agreed to become his wife
She was an avid collector of
Effects and trivia of Devon
And so in truth they were
A match made in heaven.
With their various collections
Filling their house to the rafter
They went and moved to Thailand
Where they lived happily ever after.
But she wasn't so wrong, I am an animal, after all. A sick one, I must say. And sick animals must be dealt with, must be dealt the only way they are. An ax to the head, splitting my skull, letting go of all those ill feelings, desires and ideas. To be put down, but I do not want to shed my own blood, not for her, but I would not care if someone else were to do that for me.
I am not going to be any longer a victim of your whims. I will no longer lick the ground where you walk on.To think it wasn't a question of "What do you want me to do?" as you told me followed by cursing, but rather "To understand what I meant and then we be sorting this out", to put an end. I can understand that what was done cannot be undone and that you had moved on, but still, there were things that weren't completely dealt with, and so I cannot do the same as you while these feelings still lingers. But you, as always, were unable to understand that. What I say I mean, unlike you... And instead of stretching out your arm, you gave me your foot, so I would lick it clean for you. The crumbs of affection you tossed to feed me, I am fed...
Now, I just I wish for a torpor of fifty years and twenty-six days, to only after that time to wake up, look around and then be gone.
But wishes are just that. A wish and none of that will happen, only inside my head.
And I know that is also just another lie, for I like to feel that, the desperation, the melancholy and the pain. The hatred.When life is more or less acceptable, less hateful, I do something that will destroy it all and then I will lose hope. Because I like. I am a animal, a sick animal. I like to lose hope so I can recede and cope the only way I know. The detachment of my soul from my body from these times are like a divine intervention, the bitterness of teh hatred will not let me feel these slices and cuts.I do not want to shed my own blood, but then this one will not be me, for I will be away, a spectator only able to drop tears. Something else will take my place, will take control and heal me how I deserve and have to be healed.
To split teh head, to bleed, to die, to be free of this torment.
I hate her as much as I hate myself. Or even more...
To drink you in like a spring of light, in the mystery of the night unfolding
Into thousands of silver threads, woven by stars on the sky like a silk canvas.
Your body, a cathedral of desires, beneath my trembling fingers,
Is a map of constellations, where our dreams catch and unite.
Your serene gaze, a crystal lake in which the moon bathes,
Reflects my longing, a wind that soothes and wears love like a crown.
And when your whispers dance like leaves in the deep night breeze,
I lose myself in their echo, like a traveler lost among stars and cliffs.
My hands tremble, seeking you in the darkness that envelops us,
Like birds flying towards a hidden sun, which they yearn for.
My heart is a clock that beats the rhythm of endless love,
And time stops, a painter contemplating his canvas, amazed.
With each kiss, we immerse in an ocean of silences and dreams,
Where the moon, a silver beacon, watches over our love, without warning.
The night is an infinite universe where only we exist,
In a cosmic dance, where our embraces do not unravel or fade.
When morning casts its rays like timid arrows of light,
We remain in our dream world, where love is a song without bars.
With eyes closed, I feel you near, like a scent that does not disperse,
In this eternal moment, where everything dissolves in love, without delay.
Drinking in your soul, I become an alchemist of the endless moment,
Transforming our love into a magic that will never be lost.
We are alive, this fact we know,
reaping the fruits of seeds we sow
and as into life we nosedive,
this fact we know, we are alive.
We feel hemmed in, in body-mind,
trapped by fears and desires that bind.
Deafened by incessant thought din,
in body-mind, we feel hemmed in.
To know ourself, we choose silence,
exiting thought flow violence.
With no agenda on our shelf,
we choose silence, to know ourself.
In timeless time, we feel God’s breath
manifest as love’s healing meth
and as we heavenward so climb,
we feel God’s breath, in timeless time.
Divine entwined, we feel complete,
as nodes within pulsate upbeat
and playing our role as assigned,
we feel complete, divine entwined.
Deeply dive into my Southern border. . again
again. . border around my existence ever so deeply
Somewhere over the Horizon
love is met gently
Images melt into one, opening the melody within- desires are found
found are the sensations leading to hills and tight spaces and soft images
Somewhere over the Horizon
fantasy meets reality
Kiss evenly along my Northern hemisphere taking the time to. . explore
explore. . delicate tips and melting lips and that Eastern border aching for a kiss
Somewhere over the Horizon
reality finds you and me
Trace the chills along my Western curves as pleasure whispers. . deep
deep. . into my Southern border once again, the melody you trace
Somewhere over the Horizon
we collide passionately
_______________
Just a little Scribble
~ Sweet Imagery ~
Rose colored glasses long ago shattered...
No time for phantom kisses...
Nor faux acts of love...
The keeper of this heart—
will captivate me unpretentiously...
Taking me as I am...
Sweeping me off my feet
sending my soul on a mission of surprise
mingled with admiration...
Whisk me away on his magic carpet—
to a special place with the prospect of sharing
a spirituality that’ll rival mythical God’s...
Build a trust that no one can bring to naught...
Be my hero—my gift with no expected reciprocity...
Hold me in his arms with insane intensity;
as if there is no tomorrow...
Make me feel loves heat
with no intention of starting a fire...
Awe me with his contemplation of my desires
without my asking...
Penetrate my heart with a percussion
that strikes a cord of sweet melodies...
Igniting a conscious love journey
that will renew time and time again
as we vehemently love each other veraciously...