Long Diamonds Poems

Long Diamonds Poems. Below are the most popular long Diamonds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Diamonds poems by poem length and keyword.


Thick Skinned - What It Feels Like For a Girl

“Thick Skinned – What it Feels Like for a Girl”



When you speak 
it’s as if stars cascade
out of your mouth 
galaxies you produce
musical incantations 
that I listen religiously to 

I watch your lips 
form glistening cupids’ bows

they spread wide open 
like the subtle legs 
of a forgotten nun
whispering vesper wishes
before priestly sermons
and John Donne

your hushed and salient
remonstrations, you now
plant me in your 
sentence, 
no, that this should 
never have occurred at all

we are irreverent 
in our choices 

forming new begottens
you usher from the 
pulpit of your world
eloquent reasons
to justify wrong from right
right from wrong

as if your internal fortitude
consists within a 
mirror universe 
deep and soulful
it promises 
more than heaven 

those curves 
and waivers

contracts we signed
some time ago 
souls sunk in a 
bad marriage 
and hushed assurances 
of ‘til death do us part weatherin’

kissing the skin
against my throat 

the very place 
my comeback is primed
to be launched, yours
deliver that kind of 
loose compensation 
lathered in snake oil

and a clear path 
to redemption
that tie my hands 
make me mute 
I was launched long ago 
from safe harbour, 

now
off sure

to lay down all my 
naked vicious antigens
I have grown in 
the petri dish of my
muddy life to fight your 
viral love 

like diamonds 
your words 
they sharpen and glisten
cut through 
the thick tempered 
glass of me, 

through the epidermis
of a close-packed woman
you laser your refined tongue 
eyes viscerally undressing 
you address the wide open
tableau of me, knowing 

you adroitly twist your points 
penetrating through 
to the now 
all too familiar
subcutaneous
safe base chakra of me 

within a short space of time 
I am sold 

into 
your chicanery 
wanting little of the 
life that was before 
the unfortunate 
taming of me

(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)



"What it Feels Like for a Girl"/ Madonna , Paul Oakenfold (Remix)
https://youtu.be/tbtt0WTKqnQ














https://www.huffpost.com/entry/8-steps-that-explain-why-_b_9143360

http://www.hiddenhurt.co.uk/domestic_violence_poems_1.html#learned

https://songmeanings.com/songs/view/7940/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/What_It_Feels_Like_for_a_Girl


My Nose Is Hard

Murk Rammer froze as he felt the nuzzle
of a snub-nosed thirty-eight’s deadly muzzle.
Louis The Retch poked it into his back.
“The jig’s up, Rammer. I ain’t cuttin’ no slack.”

Murk had been tricked by a double-crossing dame,
alias “Frigitte,” he didn’t know her real name.
She’d been his undoing, that cute little louse,
undoing the buttons on her bulging blouse,
then slipping out of her slip and her hose,
and her holster too; yeah, she had one of those.

He’d fallen for Frigitte, completely deluded.
She’d come on strong, delightfully denuded.
She’d kissed him hard and let him get a good grab,
but when he dozed off she skipped out and blabbed.

The shamed shamus woke up and found a clue
and went to a warehouse -- a decision he’d rue.
He’d fallen for the ruse, he’d taken the bait,
and walked right in to a date with fate.
That darn dame had put him on the spot.
He was one peeved peeper who’d loved for naught.

The warehouse was full of contraband goods.
They belonged to The Retch, a sleazeball hood --
lead falcons from “Malta” and vases from “Ming,”
dubious diamonds and other blarney-ish bling,
a lading of lies from a smug little smuggler,
who played for keeps and went for the jugular.

And now The Retch had gotten the drop.
No chance for Murk to call for the cops.
“It’s curtains for you,” the Retched one said,
“The only way out is to go down dead.”

“You win,” Murk said, with a little shrug.
He knew he was beat and waited for the slug.
A bullet in the back was the final payoff.
Fat chance The Retch would decide to lay off.

Murk heard the click of a cocked-back hammer
and waited for death in his taciturn manner.
Bang! went a gun – but not the thirty-eight.
The shot came from someone hiding behind a crate.

The Retch went down with blood on his chest,
then high heels approached; you know the rest.
Bad girl Frigitte leapt into Murk’s arms.
She just couldn’t stand to see him harmed.
And that had been Murk’s ace in the hole,
playing so well the Romeo role.

He wrapped his arms around Frigitte’s waist
and their mouths joined together, such a spicy taste!
Then he took her hand and led her out
into rain washed streets where wet shadows slouched.

Did Murk turn Frigitte in to the cops?
Or let love fill his head with mushy slop?
The ending of this tale I’ll leave up to you,
but as for me, I haven’t a clue.
Form: Rhyme

My Sweetheart Part 2

MY SWEETHEART PART 2! 
This love is from the bottom of my heart
I love you my sweetheart
You are the queen of my heart
Your heart belongs to my heart
Your beauty satisfies my vulnerable heart
I know you won't break down my heart, 
But please build your space and echo in my heart
Your smile and your eyes make me proud
Because I know you have the Mona Lisa fraud
Stars, moon and the sun bow down for your beauty
They don't contain such beauty
My sweetheart allow me to name you Beauty
Sure case my sweetheart your beauty matches the nature's beauty
Don't allow me to say dark beauty or any beauty
But allow me to say you have an African beauty
We share cheers for charity
We love each other for surerity
Like I said earlier our love have clarity
As it needs good and excellent maturity
True love for you darling doesn't quantity
But it acquires strong and jubilant quality
God gave me a gift of charity
And I'm obsessed with that charity
I know you are going to change me
You are not going to drain me
But you are going to develop me
You are not going to exhaust me
But you are going to exhault me
You won't disappoint me
But you will appoint me
Seriously you won't downgrade me
But you will upgrade me
Sweetheart, I love you
You are starring me like you are dressing my dirty mind
You are so beautiful and merciful to me
Beautiful like diamonds in the sky
Beautiful like the moon shining on the sky
Beautiful like cirrocumulus clouds on the sky
Only God and ancestors can tell because they live above the sky
In our love, the limit of all these things will be the sky
Sweetheart, I love you my sweetie pie
I know I will be enjoying you more than a king pie
They usually call me the calf of the November cloud
And my feelings are pregnant like the Nimbus clouds
Not everyone like Nimbus clouds
Only farmers are in love with the Nimbus clouds
Others like cumulus and cirrus clouds
I'm sure my feelings have desire like can stratus clouds
Our love is as good as nimbostratus clouds
Let us fly like travellers
I am a singer plus poet travellers
Explorers are also travellers
Our love dont need intruders but we travellers
Travellers The Singer plus poet love you
I will make myself a man because of you
My sweetheart I respect you! 
My sweetheart I love you! 
Shiba Phumlani Vimbelasizwe (Travellers: The - Poet) 
MY SWEETHEART PART 2!
Form: Rhyme

Theres a Place For Us

“10And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God. 11It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal. 12It had a great, high wall with twelve gates, and with twelve angels at the gates. On the gates were written the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. 16The city was laid out like a square, as long as it was wide. He measured the city with the rod and found it to be 12,000 stadia in length, and as wide and high as it is long. 17He measured its wall and it was 144 cubits thick, by man's measurement, which the angel was using. 18The wall was made of jasper, and the city of pure gold, as pure as glass. 19The foundations of the city walls were decorated with every kind of precious stone. The first foundation was jasper, the second sapphire, the third chalcedony, the fourth emerald, 20the fifth sardonyx, the sixth carnelian, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth chrysoprase, the eleventh jacinth, and the twelfth amethyst.21The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate made of a single pearl. The great street of the city was of pure gold, like transparent glass. 27Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life.” Rev 21:10-12;16-21; 27

There’s a place for us
In heaven’s glory land above
Mansions of mercy
Golden streets paved with love
Living waters sweet
Fruits grown for our healing
The pathway’s narrow
Requires God’s special sealing

There’s a place for us
Made of diamonds and emeralds
Japser, sapphires; every precious stone
Twelve gates of large pearls
No pain or heartache 
Just joy and peace reign
Our loving Saviour is King
His kingdom forever will sustain

There’s a place for us
God planned long, long ago
A palatial,‘holy city’
With a sparkling river that flows
We are His children
Heirs to His throne
Each one will receive
His own rightful crown

There’s a place for us
It’s not just a dream
Revelation describes it
Enlightened with God’s glory beams
I plan to be there—
By His sweet mercy and grace
I want to meet you there too
With our Lord face to face.

2008-2012 Copyright Maureen LeFanue
Form: Rhyme

Culture Chameleon

In youthful exuberance I become a culture bandit
Well exposed, but never really learning.
Modernity taking a toll as Papa and Ante chased the goods
For my sake they said... No mistakes... deed was good
Nanny TV with her bright inviting light
My imagination on wide escapades around the world
And farther altering my personality by giving me languages, dress codes, and even an accent.
So I stole, other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere or so I thought.
And Yet
In all my juvenile delinquency I could never, tell an adult to his face you are wrong
Revering old age; what is that, where is that from?
In my Success in Corporate with policy of first names and no regard for age but ability and brain
I could never bring myself to say Pat.
Aunty Pat can you please email the document to me
Wait, what? Am I not her boss.
So I stole…. Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere, Or so I thought.
Drawn to the immaculate white of that gown
Instinctively I top it off with a colorful Kente Scarf?
The height I can rock in these 6 inch heels
but how Royal the Ahenema slippers makes me feel
This perfect perfect pony will do well with…. no not pearls or sapphire;
Animal bone necklace and earrings
Oh how perfect my manicure will be accessorized with these….no not diamonds
Bamboo bangles
I will wear the jeans,  But only with that tank top with Adinkra symbols
So I stole… other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere… or so I thought.
My true culture grasping at my core
As I gasped, when that little boy called his father’s friend Larry
When He picked the carrot stick with his left hand from the bowl serving the community I died
Though it didn’t make sense because as a right handed person I would say my left hand is as clean as dried
I smiled brightly when that couple spoke Twi, while we waited for the A- train on the subway
My Culturally biased heart coveting a conversation
So I stole, Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere
A cultural bandit … infused with other cultures… blending in well, or so I thought.
Without need of Affirmation, I have Ghanaian blood flowing through my veins
I know the voice of my people, the beautiful colour	
Of the soul that makes a Ghanaian.
In the mother land or not. Ghana comes with us.
From generation to generation Ghana is us
Perfect Culture Chameleons
We fit right in
Ghana is our heritage.


Culture Chameleon

In youthful exuberance I become a culture bandit
Well exposed, but never really learning.
Modernity taking a toll as Papa and Ante chased the goods
For my sake they said... No mistakes... deed was good
Nanny TV with her bright inviting light
My imagination on wide escapades around the world
And farther altering my personality by giving me languages, dress codes, and even an accent.
So I stole, other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere or so I thought.
And Yet
In all my juvenile delinquency I could never, tell an adult to his face you are wrong
Revering old age; what is that, where is that from?
In my Success in Corporate with policy of first names and no regard for age but ability and brain
I could never bring myself to say Pat.
Aunty Pat can you please email the document to me
Wait, what? Am I not her boss.
So I stole…. Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere, Or so I thought.
Drawn to the immaculate white of that gown
Instinctively I top it off with a colorful Kente Scarf?
The height I can rock in these 6 inch heels
but how Royal the Ahenema slippers makes me feel
This perfect perfect pony will do well with…. no not pearls or sapphire;
Animal bone necklace and earrings
Oh how perfect my manicure will be accessorized with these….no not diamonds
Bamboo bangles
I will wear the jeans,  But only with that tank top with Adinkra symbols
So I stole… other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere… or so I thought.
My true culture grasping at my core
As I gasped, when that little boy called his father’s friend Larry
When He picked the carrot stick with his left hand from the bowl serving the community I died
Though it didn’t make sense because as a right handed person I would say my left hand is as clean as dried
I smiled brightly when that couple spoke Twi, while we waited for the A- train on the subway
My Culturally biased heart coveting a conversation
So I stole, Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere
A cultural bandit … infused with other cultures… blending in well, or so I thought.
Without need of Affirmation, I have Ghanaian blood flowing through my veins
I know the voice of my people, the beautiful colour	
Of the soul that makes a Ghanaian.
In the mother land or not. Ghana comes with us.
From generation to generation Ghana is us
Perfect Culture Chameleons
We fit right in
Ghana is our heritage.

The Walk

"The Walk"



The most precious 
diamonds falling
every step before me
wet the ground 

bare feet
my blood, 
my gift,
our foundations

placed reverently 
before you
solidarity
I gave you 

gifted under burning
oath of Golden Sun
Where have you gone
In this dream of yours?

Where are 
all my children?
Bring me my children
the ones who meet me

unknown or known
singing loud and clear
to me, a ghost
in their dreams

I am that light that 
stills the storms
the truth of life
in its all, its broken seams

Victory in Love 
means more than darkness
to these ones 
in their dreams

My precious pearls
from their hearts
seeded and blooming 
through my heart 

they are the ones
who deliver
true wisdom
bring me the children

a new life 
evolving
too much talk now,
stand beside me

Come child
of mine
Be afraid no more
Walk with me

In the time 
of something
beautiful 
and astounding

Walk with me
you, the one 
who dares,
you know who you are,

The True Believer

(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
gvlm-llb





"A Black Sun" / Gary Numan
https://youtu.be/lIdlve4SsIg






"When I was a child, 
my life seemed endless, 
too far to see

When I was a child, 
the world was waiting 
and called to me

And everyone I loved 
would live for eternity
And everything I dreamed 
would all come true for me

But now I feel the end come
My childish dreams are undone
I cry under a black sun

And every song is unsung
You will hear me 
when the wind sighs

You will feel me 
beside you always
You won't see me, 
but I'll be with you

When I was a child, 
all love was painless, 
no tears to cry

When I was a child, 
I played the hero 
who held the sky

But now I hold you 
and love 
is more than I can bear

And when I think of you, 
love becomes a pain to share

But I hear loss calling
and this is pain talking
And I am fear walking 
and these are tears falling

You will hear me 
when the wind sighs
You will feel me 
beside you always

You won't see me, 
but I'll be with you"
(Gary Numan)






The Miorror of Lost Sees: Theophany
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_mirror_of_lost_sees_theophany_1263410

Sacrifice
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/sacrifice_1242920

John 8:12


LUX VITAE

Humble Nation , Congolese

Oh! good people ,
        Congolese of Democratic
                  Republic of the Congo, 
One of good and kind nations in the World
                      Very hospitable 
                       And Sociable
                         Peaceful 
                          And Joyful 
                           Pentient
                           And Loving 
                           Very tolerant 
                            And faithful 
Beautiful place where there are more natural 
     Rivers                                       Waterfalls                    
         Lakes                                  Islands
            Forests                         Beaches
               Parks                        Caves  
                  Gardens               Petrol
                      Gaz                 Salt
                   Minerals resources like:
                                          Tourmaline
                                      Coppers
                              Cobalts
                       Zincs
                      Coltans
                       Golds
                          Rubies
                              Diamonds
 Lithium,Uranium , Beryllium ,Silver ,Emerald ,Steel  Supphire ,Mercury ,Casterites manganese  ... ETC.        
                  
Country where people pick  up some minerals after heavy rains,
Second biggest African country with more than hundered millions people, 
Country of many ethnic groups with more     beautiful and wise women,  

Country with more national wildlife reserves where you can find:  Elephants ,Impalas ,Rhinos  Nyala, Buffalos ,Donkeys,Lions ,Mangroves ,Leopards, Snake,
Tigers ,Eagles,Gorillas,Cobras,Chimpanzees ,Peacocks 
Monkeys , and  Other sorts of animals and birds.

Oh! United people , 
humble nation on earth, 
People who know the real meaning  of forgiving and forgetting,  

People who were aggressed by their neighbours from 1996 to now, 
More than 14 millions Congolese died in the Wars,
Genocides, Massacres And kidnappings. 
People who always preach peace and love in the World. 

Cry , Crying with those crying in Congo daily, 
Pray,Praying with those praying for Congo daily, 
Assist ,Assisting Congolese to come out of decades wars. 
I share my pain with World.

Written 20- 2- 2023
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe Mussabwa Chris

Premium Member Woman In Chains

she carries the child on tired hips rested on chains ‘round her waist

wasted on freedom designed to serve a white man’s lustful desire

branded inferior as time repeats itself and the pain knows no end


a tattoo on her skin confirms her as chattel in self-righteous shackles 

festering wounds of Apartheid resemble the foul stench of humanity

as her child suckles from an empty breast and cries out for more


they did not really abandon slavery merely gave it a different name

too sweet are the rewards of exploiting the world as we know it

division of labour and they enshrined her firmly as an illiterate pawn


her soul wrapped in skin and bones and her eyes like rusted steel

an empty gaze almost gave up on merits of justice from hollow eyes

camped in concentration of power domination she is raped daily


of her dignity while she ploughs on in fields of plenty and the dust

of history and yet she never gives up on struggle for emancipation

some got the vote in a rigged system with dice slicing the fortune


disembowled by wolves in capital’s fangs her innermost treasure

has become hope that succumbs to memories of her forebears

born into poverty and meant to stay there she rattles her manacles


in vain in defeat because leg irons and handcuffs are made from

diamonds and gold in the heartland of theft and misappropriation

when her child dies she carries another from the master’s loins


expendable and forgotten her tears are salty and polish the gyves 

and just maybe might help to corrode bilboes and unholy bonds

because human emotions do not forget who triggered the hurt


outcast in a so called homelands or locations she requires a pass

to enter the kingdom of opulence in which she serves as a maid

but the young maiden has become old and dies cleaning their dirt


a stolen life is all that her daughters will remember with hatred

and when they rise they too will die by the greed of their captors

but one day the tables will turn and revolve in anger and retribution



20th August 2020


‘Apartheid’ in South Africa was the system of racial discrimination

Workers needed a ‘passbook’ to enter rich suburbs for work

‘Homelands’ were the allocated regions where black people would live

Their abodes where called ‘locations’ to sweeten the tongue of evil

Violet-Blue Death

1. Non-fiction

The bathroom faucet gushes nectar
drowns my hands in never-laughter,
"Sorry" is a specter
when you told me "0" I felt disgusting,
hopelessly deluded,
naked.

Last night I dreamed
that New York City was nuked,
another Twin Towers Lost,
everyone radiated.

But then I dreamed of you,
in a tight blue dress,
glaring,
cute pout,
"Is this right?" you asked
as you flawlessly played
Beethoven's "The Tempest."

I smiled. "Perfect."
I hardly smile these days.

2. Satisfaction

Deflection of your image is essential.
The closer I get, the more
those spiders right there
don't you see them
slipping on the stucco wall?
They remember the feeling
that satisfaction brings
of outsmarting us all
as the sky reflected in my fingernail
is a storyteller of love's plastic rings.

Is it summer yet?
This doesn't feel
adventurous, heart-warming,
sunsets, beaches,
grandfather, innocent crush,
my eyes in sugar rush,
and the books that told me much
so that I could die one day in your hush.

3. A Loss of Inspiration

Midnight's soon, the day's been wasted
thinking of worlds aside from This,
the walls' three dents from my broken fist
and the postcard she forgot she posted

in this odd room I fill
with jackets, wisdom, thrill,
come sundown I rush into wishes
that my jealousy could be just,
yet it's "brand-new in a landfill"
restoring your horrified webcam look.

Since you've gone and my love has died,
this pen's bloodstains have been my pride.

4. Medicine

Maybe you don't realize
you've crushed that tiny bug.
His funeral will not be held,
not until the walls cover their ears,
and blood diamonds ask for fears.

A refill
and a terror,
I can only see your purple sweater
bending once for all my vice;
Maroon Dream City is waiting for us.

These med heavens.
So addicting
until I relapsed into your eyes,
I'm still sick of it all:
the horizon never reached
and darkness perched and ready.
Stop confusing me already.

5. Hideout

Hey, why did
I miss you
Your smile from last June
And no girl will ever
I wonder
I wonder
Slow down, run me over
And laaaugh
Come walk beside this faster incompletion 
On a chilly night of sirens
Hey, why did
And my head pounds from lack of
Hey, if I were to go forever
Come to me in my hideout
and I'll kiss your scream
with eternity.

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter