Long Distal Poems
Long Distal Poems. Below are the most popular long Distal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Distal poems by poem length and keyword.
Unattached through my distal words,
uninhibited by my salacious actions-
I’ve find it fancy to be capricious and free,
and not once has it been a distraction.
Freedom to choose a lewd path,
one with happy-go-lucky friends-
On top of the Eiffel Tower,
where the footloose never ends.
My lovers delight in my libertine behavior,
immoral probably, yet that’s just me-
Deviant in between the sheets,
but, I’m footloose and fancy-free.
Lecherous and vigor in my barren skin,
sensually disturbed wearing a crown-
I’m the queen of lustful demeanor,
the most easy-going woman in town.
I find it fancy to be capricious and free,
only with me you’ll find true ecstasy.
May 20, 2017
"For Fancy-Free Poetry Contest"
Dark thoughts and desires are just that for a reason...human beings are prone to irrational thoughts, and we all carry secrets that drip into the blackness of our bleeding souls, extending downward below our fetal positioned graves.
Caught up inside my morbidity, concealed the mystery of my subconscious,
sinister stemming from evil, inside my dismal grim, I choked on regret and fed off your disconsolate lies and I believed them, as much as you believed...
I wanted to live...
depths bleed into hell
shared defeat only for us
morbid and alone
Living is nothing but a curse, stitches on my wrists, and spirals down into the oblivion of hell. My contradictions are breeding with my veins as I prepare for the longing of your misery....
...your misery is me.
I am your distal demon, sucking the life from your brave intentions, my weak intentions reach a depth, so far I can not see without hearing your screams. Your shadow's are killing me, but I'm needy for the weightlessness you throw at me daily...nightly...daily...non stop recurrence putting me to sleep, way too young...I tied myself up and kicked away your chair, left with out breath, and still, no one to turn to...
the fiend within me
sleeping in our graves too young
your curse inside me
There are two of me...
One.... broken and damaged...alone and afraid...yearning, longing to free myself from all the hatred bottled up inside my core. Fighting for life beneath the hell of destruction, worshiping black to find my grey..for there will never be white...
Needing you to show me every twisted path I believe should be mine. May your breath crack my bones and your eyes tear my flesh to pieces. Then...I am one who will stand up for your wicked endeavors and concrete sacred thoughts of me not being able to live anymore...
no more life to live
broken you and broken me
no more pain to give
Date Written: December 27, 2015
“The pining brine streams flowing from the
weeping eyes seek the course to the sea
of serenity”– Quote by poet
The cloud convoy of despair drifts slow
in the seamless smoky sky of sorrow,
as the storm surges from the dismal
horizon of mangled mind’s visage distal,
it melts in many streams seemingly shallow,
while from the tearful eyes torrents flow,
like the raindrops rolling in tortuous rills,
the drenched face of the foliage feels.
All the dark dreary clouds don’t melt,
the pain of the deluge remains unfelt.
A lonely clump clutches a frail fraction
of crushed epitome of entrapped emotion,
like the raindrops holding hidden grief
in the secret crease of the sodden leaf,
lingers in me to wail from within deep,
for the impulsive promises I couldn’t keep.
With the emotive brine’s brisk flow,
carrying the condensed pain of sorrow,
the teardrops get poised in pearly file
on the unfurled eyelashes for a while,
like the raindrops resting on the tip
of the leaning leaves to detach and drip.
They silently sigh sliding down slowly
with the broken dreams’ invisible debris.
Down the parched wrinkles sorely sleek,
of the pensive and pining pallid cheek,
silent streams’ cataract mutely cries
as angst cascades from the tearful eyes.
The touch of serenity in the psyche bleak,
melancholic mind strives solemnly to seek
in the course the teardrop torrents trace,
and in their consoling emotional embrace.
Written: August 26, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Oh world, all swollen with pain,
The opulent smell emits an almost harsh refrain.
Languor fills the air as the sun still hides.
Behind a shroud of clouds, where it softly abides.
Every surface is damp as the rain falls heavier.
Oh, world, don't welt the earth; don't be a destroyer.
Don't shush the air; let it whisper its song.
Don't dry the water; let it flow swiftly and strong
Don't engage with fire; let it dance and ignite.
It injects warmth and ardor on cold nights.
Allow me to fit in and wander toward my goal.
Let me speak; let me share with every soul.
My voice needs to rant, rave, and roar.
To echo through valleys and reach distant shores.
Let me walk and let me talk with fire in my eyes.
Whenever there's a flame, words can reach the skies
Oh world, all swollen with rain,
Let me speak my truth; let me not be in vain.
For the earth is in need of a voice that is bold,
To protect and preserve, to break free from the mold.
To remind us of all our duty and care,
To cherish this planet, this world we all share.
So, don't harm the earth; don't wield it with greed.
Let's heal, nurture, and fulfill our every need.
Don't shush the air; let it carry our dreams.
Let it whisper hope as it flows in streams.
Don't tumble the water; let it quench our thirst.
Let it sustain life, for the best and the worst.
Don't be angry with fire; let it guide your way.
Let it bestow light and warmth every single day.
Let us walk and talk with passion in my stride.
Let us spread love and wisdom distal and wide.
As long as there's a flame, my words might fight.
Someday, what I say could inspire and ignite.
Let us join, constantly rise up, and transform.
A higher world, where love and peace will swarm.
In the middle of the night, I can hear your sigh.
Shouting to those who stare outside the azure sky.
Your scent instills to my soul a feeling of calm.
Away from the abyss, reality at the edge of a chasm.
It's approaching from the insights of time; I'm aware.
As the stream of the tide is on, the echo tries to dare.
Who may tenderly persuade me to care tunes?
Who may soothe my soul with peculiar vivid boons?
And protect me with the fulness of his quietness.
Of life span glorious nights to the day's countless.
In a meadow of velvety, wispy willows by the lake.
In the chilling pre-fall breezes, we quiver and shake.
There is no limit to how distal and deep you might cease!
Currently, this still life scene is denuded of the breeze.
From swards, tremors, and wilderness to dull blue height.
The skyline is illuminated by a swarm of merciful light.
A few trees appear to be nuzzling the sky under the gray.
However, none can match the splendor of wood's hooray!
Written: February 10, 2022
What is a coconut heart made of?
O’ the distal taste of love for me
Hardening of my left side no longer bleeds
The heart of coconut the coconut palm
So sticks in my breathe
Close to the apex of the stem
Terminal bud so in love folded
Leaves and upper tissues of the stem.
Harden heart, liken Coconut
Heart is a type of heart by a buildup
Plaque sweet juices in side of thee sup flow to the heart.
Savory exterior and a sweet light interior
Coconut reaches it so peak nutrient loving sweet
I taste Saltwater Taffy Flavor
Oooh so favor
And unique, spongy, foam like texture.
Is coconut a fruit or a nut
How rare is a coconut heart
Rare and occurs exclusively middle- aged
Yet so I love the hearted heart
Liken the a shell milky coconut
How can I survive without you?
Minerals and nutrients
Such as potassium, sodium, manganese,
Mine vitamin B, copper, and iron
My beneficial flesh of my flesh bone of my bone
However I can't survive on a coconut-
Your hearten heart, love solid
Coconut my fruit — not a nut. In fact
So falls under a subcategory as drupes
Which are defined as fruits
That have an inner flesh and seed
Surrounded by a hard shell.
Hearted heart I love you ever so still
Botanically speaking, my fibrous one-seeded drupe,
However, when using loose your harden heart fruit
Coconut you be all three a fruit, a nut, and a seed.
Sweet rich milk savors mine lips feed
10/16/23
9th PLACE Win in contest
For “Coconuts Poetry Contest”
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
In my distal conception you shine like a lucent star
whose touch fondles the fret and strings of my guitar.
An image worth painting in oils with my sable brush,
your voice like the recherche love song of a thrush.
You are the faint break of day in dawn's somber skies.
A sanctum of refuge in times of angst and weeping eyes.
My ardent lover, seducing me with each lustful thought.
You are life's pulse beating rhythmically within my heart.
If I am blinded tomorrow, visions of you I shall not lack.
And if I were entrapped in a world of boundless black,
wavering shadows would not fill my heart with fright,
for with you at my side, I would not have need of sight.
No demands would I make, but humbly I would beseech
you to please make me aware that you're within my reach.
You are the assuasive waves that quell my restless soul
and I, a brigantine moored in the shallows of your shoal.
November 12, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 20 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
It is the grand pubah, Meebow Durchee herself.
Twenty Meegees of tar got excited and fell off the shelf.
You better button your lip I said to Bolo Scopey that day
The tornado took out Mary Booger’s barn, it went far away!
Billy Beatercheese heard me, even though he was late.
Have you heard, he asked, of John Cameron Dirtnose’s fate?
Billy is usually full of figloshistical honkidayleon, so I turned away.
Ya can’t ram it son, said backsheared bashturd, merry and gay.
Stovepipe Wedge added “stomper right down, son”, without hate.
Fazah gave him a shiglostada throwing in a bit of confisticate.
Sibey Sahbah was the last meegee to arrive at Birds Little A.J.
Saying “lighten up the chain and wheelie for a block, okay?”
I heard the last of “ya can’t ram it down son” from Stovepipe now.
Billy said “my back flushed the bird cage, it was quite a wow!”
I have been down on everything but the Titanic you know.
But with this conversation, I did not know where to go.
Bolo Scopey gave us a peek at his beegomometer invention.
shows ta go ya to Dallas, he said, at the married convention.
Let’s screw it on and went right up the wall, said another.
It’s a distal aclousal on two, said my wise meegee mother.
Distal to Dorsal the bofdy human
agility and flexiblity
Rest and recovery
a detailed
meme of wrestling stylus
heis works are a showcase
of atheletic showmenship
a marvel in the specticail
of chain wrestling
move and counter move
a great treat for an audeince
a championship A-lister
a Modern Classic in the making
afew among his peers
he's a sceintific techition
one move away from
being champion
trophied and contention ready
in-line to be champion
the right night
Pro-chored and ready
Guilded and a real deal
a contenders nightmare
and a partners dream
someone even a non-fan recognizes as great
he got the fans calling him great
he's got his peers calling him great the
guy's in the locker room wait in line toim
at his best there non other
out wrested he'll
rehone his craft
and come up with something to offset
any defeat
as rare as they are
W got the message let's
see if the cahmpionship commity get's it
a champion is wise to heep his eye on
this man
attention:attention:attention
they already know his ablity
what he does to get that huy
to look him right in his eye's
He never could get past the ego
his staus is well above reach
he better find a trusted freind
someone who doesn't mind
being apart of a big-deal
If the other stands in front will
he let him be championship quality
or will he undermind him
to reposition himself
the newness maybe off the champion
let's see if the number one contender
can bring his ball to the game
A trophied, titled contender
with a niche: he can walk out of here
champion without breaking a sweat.
However decorated all others mimic
him as Champion!