Long Detailing Poems
Long Detailing Poems. Below are the most popular long Detailing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Detailing poems by poem length and keyword.
It's over, my nightmare has finished,
I no longer feel any pain.
Now I can tell my story in your dreams,
Tell it again and again.
You see, the kid next door had a gun fired,
Fired through his small tender head.
It woke me so I went over to help,
But he was sprayed all over his bed.
Then the judge, the jury, the town, the people,
All pointed their finger at me.
And I was locked behind bars awaiting my fate,
Of hearing the gas machine key.
And while I waited I was raped every day,
And beaten and broken on a whim.
I had no safety for the health of myself,
When they snapped each innocent limb.
And each night in that jail the boy spoke in my dreams,
Detailing what had been done.
That the last thing he saw was the judge in his room,
The judge holding a big shiny gun.
im irish
outta new york
your 2 turn in a table
gutter pork
fake brass rings detailing how
wedding ventures
meet her news cow
ill and straight
the dhali llama's
trying to show you
how nazi's brew
throw in one jew
now celebrate the kings wife
she's hung like dmx on top of kobe
these are some objectives and adjectives
help sums grow up
grewsome's is a vowel
mispaced the sentence
outside your lyricist, my old acquaintance
clauses and gangs go back like jezebel
she his daddy, he dont ask for lunch
dumping registers at confession
the worlds gonna die
hes torching fella's
back to the doctoring
thats he has a phd
in patching news in
just as the aorta implodes
now momma's family used to drive mr patton
gotta clue about how robotic his dvr habits
i all alone, my lifes work is about housing laws
just for the hell of it, i'll describe why
people grow up in democracy
get flushed out in american
thats a credit card
nazi's embezzled our granparents with 'em
like holocaust bars
same old owner on the ship
rocking chairs and social security hips
oldest cons in the game
very honest
still nobody to guillotine and blame
his bank account never dark budgets
me im a egotistical calculator in your village
All around campus there are these little black balls, like hanging
alien eggs. Glossy, obsidian bubbles concealing cameras that
record time-stamped, audio and hi-def video.
Could this surveillance footage ever be sent to parents?
*Imagining letters sent to parents about campus/dorm surveillance*
Dear Mr & Mrs Vionet, we have observed countless kisses,
disheveled morning walks and late night visits which indicate
that your daughter is a scandalous little wh0re. We just wanted you
to know, in case you want to know more. As campus security it’s part
of our business to keep a full, digital record, detailing her sluttines$s.
Your friends in campus security.
P.S.
Would you care to donate to the University endowment fund?
-----------------------------------------Tharsisan Dispatch---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Week of Sunday 14 of February 2027-----------------------------------Volume VXXIIIIII-0000000001
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------==================================================================
NEWS GRABBING THE PUBLICS ATTENTION
EXTRA/EXTRA!
By: Rumbfert Hueknuckle
Seems inappropriate to put the nut ref here but in summery of of report: it is all the likeliest of likehood that a press conference detailing the ' newly invented' SOUND of the century has been purchased with all rights of ownership belonging to Production MIZZI a futuristic Media group with
Purpose. Aquisition .Syndrome.INC. (which to has been purchased) by All Means Media. The sale means more phatbeats and groovey tunes. Headlines from Maine to New Mexico: from Florida to Oregan all have confirmed the sale." It means allot to the general public" said Dingal Daz of Fyter Magazine:" from opera to rock: with gospel ,rythmn and blues to the POP charters, all included. The newly vamped GENRE WON deal has people in the industry and those external to the business buzzing!" "Revenue from last year topped 1 billion in sales with only 7 months reporting, this is big news!" Spoke an interupting Cuas Cleppertun of Bizzy Bouis Gazette: tours this year will keep millions entertained, worker in several major industries will make alot of money! Tour Forge is also into Frigat racing and Venue Rentals, They rent Big Places cheap, groups, churches, small bands and orchastras will have a house to entertain from. This is a big deal!
Varuna what your hobby?
Penning delicacies
Like chocolate eclairs
Lemon chiffon
Colorful words, affairs
Of the tastebuds
Delectable shares
Light and appealing
Nothing compares
To heavenly puddings
Sweets like prayers
Promising goodness
In poetry and prose
Scrumptious words rise
Detailing mouthwatering
Thoughts, lovely pies
Capturing the silent joy
Twinkling in the eyes
Of those mouthwatering
Desserts who baptize
The tongue in delight
Nothing can disguise
Such yummy satisfaction
The empty page cannot know
Ways to cleverly melt
Prose with pleasantness
Here in the bible belt
Where we know our sugars
Blended with heartfelt
Palatability, allure of desserts
Who bring such deep-felt
Ecstasy from the soul who knows
Appetites are alive, indwelt
By such luscious gratification
Writing of honey loving tastes
In saccharine hearts, devoted
To pleasant flavors,
Both tangy and light, quoted
By legendary authors
Poets – writers who noted
The savory enchantments
Found in confections, coated
With powdered sugar
Floating in syrupy delight, voted
The best part of life
A Merger With Food Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Natasha L Scragg
May 5, 2022
I am overcome with a sense of dread,
when hearing talk of that leg injury.
It becomes an atrocious time machine
throwing me viciously on to my couch.
Will it ever feel like normal again?
I wish I could just flush bad memories.
My mind is now flooded with memories
and I am vibrating with rhythmic dread.
I’m stuck in a fractured body again,
frozen in place with a rough injury.
Miserable and crazed on an old couch
my mind is back to a high-low machine.
I’m not able to tailor the machine
to only play back happy memories.
I cannot simply throw away a couch
to avoid a head full of instant dread.
That piece stolen by a chance injury
lets me know I’ll never be whole again.
I would love to be my old self again,
not repaired by a doctor or machine.
It’s me I made it through an injury,
but I’m done being cuffed to memories.
An overactive mind detailing dread
happens at a certain spot on the couch.
Oh, horribly uncomfortable couch!
Here they all come emerging once again.
Why is furniture setting off this dread?
It’s not a doctor’s surgical machine,
still it calls back my fading memories.
I’m haunted by this ghost of injury.
I just want to bleed out this injury,
let myself relax on my cozy couch.
Now I am cursed with levied memories
whenever I lie back and try again.
I’ve got to silence the roaring machine
that’s instigating this feeling of dread.
These memories bring chronic injury
that is fusing my dread into this couch.
A Phantom raised again by my machine.
The day is done. Travel dispersed, no more roaming.
Between dusk and sunset, it’s the gloaming.
I settle to watch, inspired by that instant moment,
When day gives over to night a regal bestowment.
Lights begin to shimmer, as we near twilight.
Across the horizon created a radiant glow so bright.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby hue.
Detailing an exquisite hefty crimson etched in view.
Streams of color blend seamlessly in swirls of delight.
Heavily embossed across the faded sky, birds in flight.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold,
As night’s velvety blanket begins to unfold.
Whispers of a breeze wafting gently, flickers a scent.
Evokes aromatic bursts, sensual yet earthy by intent.
With a sweetness, and a warm tranquil overtone.
I am nestled snugly, captivated by joy I've never known.
Capturing my imagination of a candle in glorious blaze,
My breath extinguishing it to create the dark night haze.
“Capturing my imagination of a candle in glorious blaze,
My breath extinguishing it to get ready for the dark night haze.” The Poet
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight,
I settle to watch, inspired by an instant moment, so true.
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Across the horizon created a radiant glow so bright.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby hue.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight,
Streams of color blend seamlessly in swirls of delight.
Detailing an exquisite hefty crimson etched in view.
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Heavily embossed across the faded sky, birds in flight.
I gaze as the sky bids farewell to the last glimpse of blue.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight.
A sweetness of warmth, a tranquil overtone so light,
As the velvety blanket of night begins to unfold so new,
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Whispers of a breeze wafting gently, it flickers a perfume too.
Evokes aromatic bursts, sensual yet earthy right through.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight,
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
The earthly experience, a creature of emotion.
Counting the turning of worlds, the ecstatic whirling.
The Knowing in near real-time, making the heightened moment.
To read of yourself in print, detailing your fifteen minutes.
All of the revolutions, each one nearing the last one.
When the mind learns the secrets, of persistent illusions.
The unexpected dreaming, speaks of new destinations.
A new soul experience, with agonies and ecstacies.
Each dimension a bit higher, the actors are more refined.
Where there is learned the next phase, of becoming who you are.
On the eternal caravan, of life among stars!
Sponsor Mark Toney
Contest Name 2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 3
The day is done. Travel dispersed, no more roaming.
Between dusk and sunset, it’s the gloaming.
I settle to watch, inspired by that instant moment,
When day gives over to night a regal bestowment.
Lights begin to shimmer, as we near twilight.
Across the horizon created a radiant glow so bright.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby hue.
Detailing an exquisite hefty crimson etched in view.
Streams of color blend seamlessly in swirls of delight.
Heavily embossed across the faded sky, birds in flight.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold,
As night’s velvety blanket begins to unfold.
Whispers of a breeze wafting gently, flickers a scent.
Evokes aromatic bursts, sensual yet earthy by intent.
With a sweetness, and a warm tranquil overtone.
I am nestled snugly, captivated by joy I've never known.
Capturing my imagination of a candle in glorious blaze,
My breath extinguishing it to create the dark night haze.