Long Doted Poems
Long Doted Poems. Below are the most popular long Doted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Doted poems by poem length and keyword.
Madly in love
with a turbulent world
in a swirling wayward bloom,
till I froze, swept by your comely face.
So, the dreams I once doted on!
Beauty bubbles in your presence,
blurred in my prime by a mirage,
a blinding illusion. Who cares?
Who dares steer off the broad way,
pull over and trace the virgin country
where nature nurtures beauty.
Pure as a lily, you ray like a rose;
and nod, a poppy in a delicate breeze.
Blinking dew, you wake with the sun,
splashing the canvas with seven colors.
A glow at crown of noon, you smile
like setting sun at the border,
clothing clouds in gold. Stars wink
their joy; the moon steps out in style.
Who wouldn't celebrate your beauty?
Even the blind, the deaf, and the dumb;
they see, hear, and shout your comeliness:
a germ tucked away from passing peep
until heart locks onto heart.
Now I dream your beauty in others.
Even in the filthy frenetic world,
love gleams on faces racing down
the superhighway hoping to meet
with you in the jam.
© 2016 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
The stranger is strange, pariah, leper sounds offbeat,
Neither truculent, nor relevant, all destined to encounter the doomed relic;
The bizarre outlander, alien to stimulate the instant pulse-beats!
The uninvited hobnobber, one despises to welcome in routine frolic.
The stranger is unsolicited, the object of latent fear,
As strange may be the ways of the unbidden ones' intentional cares!
The stranger is unfaithful: weird to tranquility, comfort and cheer,
For the sceptical one, we become anxious by a mere fateful encounter!
The stanger lies in our conscience; in a distant land in paradoxical disguise.
Masquerade, the image generates an uncanny fear to sigh!
Sounds delinquent to subjugate the wires of prudent conscience!
Nonetheless, cogitates as usurper of peace; an ineffable parti pris.
Self-centred, they are loquacious, spell bound like con stars;
Babbles from the masks, camouflages as the epitomes of pretenders.
Unknown, unfamiliar, stirs alarms not to mingle, to be away, to be cautious.
In disguise, comes the alleged stanger to ruin ones' peace to shudder and shatter.
But the most alarming of all preconceived archetypes, are the strangers:
Who lingers on, as routine friends and well wishers,
On whom we doted on, are the real dear strangers,
Who by feigning friends, acted quisling, an obvious stranger!
'Hold!' sometimes left us dumbfounded with their insensible fickle deeds;
Even when the unknown stanger might spare and stand by us in awful needs!
When our intimate ones deny to wink at the distress;
While busy in spilling the beans, our woes go unnoticed by the feigned well-wishers.
Indeed! They are the untagged apparent strangers, fugitives in our trials.
Beware of those strangers, whom we adore as near and dear ones, 'bosom friends,'
the agnates and cognates, to entitle the crown, “an actual stranger" who elopes in tmes of miseries!
All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
The strongest woman that I ever saw
was born thirty-four years ago,
to loving parents who doted on her,
told he of the great places she’d go.
She was popular all through high school,
never failed to pull down straight A’s,
was taught to be strong, and never take crap,
a path for women she would blaze.
She had not a head for the hard sciences,
but in business she quickly excelled,
got her MBA from the finest of schools,
a master of finance, and of what sells.
Moving to the city, she got a good job
and proclaimed one day she would be in charge,
she brought in accounts all through her twenties
and was rewarded with a salary large.
She shot up the ranks, quickly at first,
found herself in the office by my desk,
though we were in different departments
it was clear, she was one of our best.
But when she turned thirty she seemed to slow,
though she stood by her stated goals,
and every so often I’d find her staring
distractedly out of her office window.
All of it charged starting one fall day
when she went up for a big promotion,
but her numbers were down, and it went to
a workaholic named Danny Bagosian.
This spurred her on to work overtime,
by coincidence I was doing the same,
alone in the office we got to talking,
what she asked me nearly fried my brain.
She said,”I’m here sixty hours a week,
I’ve no time left for relationships,
and though this may sound inappropriate
I want to ask your opinion on this.
“I could use a friend-with-benefits
to relieve stress and have some fun,
you’re a handsome fellow and it has been
three years since I have had one.”
Now I suppose the right thing to do
would be to run down to H.R.
But a woman like this has a way with men,
and I said,”I’m game if you are.”
So began a secret and torrid affair
that no man could ever forget,
in hotel rooms and there in her office…
let’s just say that I have no regrets.
But as the months went on something did grow
as often happens with ‘benefits-friends,’
at some point we dropped the charade,
no longer willing to pretend.
And in her I sensed something new,
a sadness I’d not before seen,
it came out into the open late a night
when she woke me from a restless sleep...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Seventy-nine years old and counting
Got a whole bunch more years to come
Longevity is rampant in my family
I'm the youngest of ten children
Nine sisters and finally li'l ole me
Two died at birth... but
One sister managed to make it to ninety-four
Four lived into their eighties
And two lived into their late seventies
My mummy was eighty-two when she passed away
But my poor dear old daddy only lived to sixty-seven
Colon cancer got him
Usually when hearing about nine sisters
Most people say, “Wow! You must have been spoiled”
What does that mean... like meat that's gone bad?
I guess you could say I was doted on!
Loved it... I recommend it!
© Jack Ellison 2014
The new maid, Jo, walked out onto the deck,
Seeing the reclined form of Eric Dvorak.
He stretched out in the sun,
oblivious to everyone,
then leapt up quick, stiffness in his back.
Eric then stared up at a high window,
way up on the second floor did his gaze go.
Anger made his face a cloud,
he roared it all out loud,
screaming,”Cheating *****! I’ll lay you low!”
He tore up the mansion at a sprint,
she followed quickly when he did.
She didn’t see what Eric saw,
but she knew something was wrong.
When she caught up she was out of wind.
Eric stood in the door, onlooking,
anyone could see the fury in him cooking,
He cried,”I’ll show you both!”
Then into the room did go,
the maid walked up and she saw nothing...
Eric waited in the middle of a bedroom.
The rage was gone, but he wasn’t looking good.
From his face to his veins,
he was a pulsing mass of pain.
He slumped against the bed’s old hardwood.
Now the old maid Ellie came up near them,
and said to her,”Leave him alone now, friend.
None of this seems quite right,
But I’ll explain to you outside.”
So they went down to the backyard fence.
They settled in the shade near the fig,
and Ellie took a bit to puff an e-cig.
She turned and said to her,
“I trust you not to say a word.
Or the outside world will come and start to dig.”
Ellie looked nervous, but then continued on,
“Eric once has a wife he doted upon.
But once while sitting outside,
he saw two shadows in a window high,
and rushed upstairs, fearing something wrong....
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Rockwell) framed palette,
(sans dystopian
picture) outright
and despite whatever hardship,
with curtain call on this
November 11th, 2018 night,
a flickr ring, instagram, and
kickstarter motive might
be fulfilling tummy,
that ever so quickly
the dimming light
(when the scythe lint
covered grim reaper)
perhaps attired as
21st century LGBT knight,
the latter once
sip pawn a time...,
now he iz a
messenger simply bear
ring pleasant tidings,
and also an effort
to express, how
ye didst (aunt still do) care
(uncle Andy as well)
for Shana Punim,
who on a do able dare
to be doted upon, and offered
to go here, there,
and everywhere
experiencing a gamut of
eye opening globe trotting
(Watch out Harlem
basketball Boyz to men) hair
reed tailored, and swiftly styled
educational adventures
adding learning and zest
to life, liberty, and purrs
suit of feline doth wrest
good development
of character to in vest
patterning herself after
exemplary guardians
sometimes you might
be feeling beat,
when embarking upon
latest electric kool aid acid test,
nonetheless, this
missive of gratitude,
where thee darling daughter
doth conquer one quest
after another (principally attributed
to thee, who NEVER protest
obligations, but
launch with confidence,
whether feathering
the Gadshill nest,
or...furthering education keeping
body, mind, and spirit
sharpened as best
Yukon Mount attain.
Sitting on the cusp of dusk and evening
Placidly he ruminates where life has been
When she still believed in vibrant springs
And exulted dawning of purple mornings
Echoing exuberance of seasons’ calling
Fragile, yet colorful, as autumnal leaves
Delicate, aesthetic, as snowflakes falling--
Until she chose to surrender her dreams.
Oh! how fervently she cherished streams
Zigzagging ebulliently on their property
Digging lanes through prairies dark green,
Giggling, rushing, curving, on life-journey,
Pointing zealously, how to redirect destiny
Hosting daydreams of daffodils, milkweeds,
And tranquil bliss edifying lotus sanctuary.
Pity, neither did he feel her zestful appeal,
Nor could he allay those spaces left empty--
Between life as it is, and life that could be--
Saddled by incongruence defying harmony.
Lonesome he wailed tracing her footprints:
Cheered birds singing, doted stars twinkling,
Breathed-in her air scented with jasmines,
Buzzed in moth-passions of nocturnal winds,
Gazed deep woods where moon was rising,
And found her there, but not her meaning.
Yet, she came by, reminiscing through time,
Staying long enough, scanning the night skies--
But much as she tried, the Venus didn’t smile,
Alas! when she left, that was final goodbye.
April 28, 2021
Poem of the day on April 29, 2021
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Forlorn Hope
The virtue was being wronged, depicted his woeful tale of prey and innocence.
Gradually people gathered to listen to the poignant rhetoric.
blown away by the felon's aching, awful narration;
pitied the miserable plight, lamented the dejected tales.
There were babbling, the throng silently protested the unfairness, the injustice.
In innuendo, the protagonist raised the pitch of the tragic tale, the foul play.
one day, the aggrieved throng, broke the glasshouse of the pointed swindler of innocence to penalize,
rejoiced, contended, the folk were prattling the nature's law of justice.
The protagonist in awe, applauded the mob for the transgression, for the hold up.
All of a sudden, the cynosure of their eyes,
became bean ideal of rectitude and integrity,
applauded for the moral fortitude, honoured, doted on.
The proclaimed perceived upright hero was silently starring, astounded at the susceptibility of the mob, utterly blind,
subtly entangled in his devious, fabricated, intrigued plot!
The protagonist of the moving tale, removed the mask at the end quietly, with a sardonic laugh;
in triumph to give a puff to the credulous absurdity.
The machiavellian hero, was meticulously eavesdropping, peeping at the gross fooly.
The irony! The demon in disguise, is glorified by mercy of ludicrous asinine.
Her sinful origins
Lavish countryside merchandise
Sold as before therein
Therein her father's cursive
No escaping your mother's wives
Hours of gates in glass
Absconding measures hateful professors
Daliancing courtships of escaping slaves
Travel ignorant
Visit in spite where I succumbed too
Your mother's wisdoms I loved
Dedicated to Taryn Manning's Ancestors
kevin 11m
Sin Filled Residence
Sin filled Residence
Her sinful origins
Lavish countryside merchandise
Sold as before therein
Therein her father's cursive
No escaping your mother's wives
Hours of gates in glass
Absconding measures hateful professors
Daliancing courtships of escaping slaves
Travel ignorant
Visit in spite where I succumbed too
Your mother's wisdoms I loved
Dedicated to Taryn Manning's Ancestors
Copyright © kevin mathenia | Year Posted 2025
Taryn, the following piece of music captures New York friendship and that, I've got rent taken care of to that.
Un Doted Losses
Un Doted Losses
Huuhhg, huuhhg
Cried?! Call
Hallway
Ever cried
Call way
Rounded strings
Parent darings
Love you going
Eyes in minds spearing
To yell when it dries
A city inside
Rounded states
Hats tilting despair
Losing footing
In a hand worth turning
Parents darling
Missed the meaning of spent
Before you return
City squares I've made,
Steps upon all ponds
Travel days, nights as dawn
World's go to run
Having all dreams in done
Yet hearing the shore
Foreign and open latching boards
We waste under joy
Bereaved he'll stay a boy
Copyright © kevin mathenia | Year Posted 2025
Romance, jazz spent verses
#kendalljenner
Hoping won't pay for Linda Diaz
#tarynmanning #lindadiazmusic #blackpinkofficial
braising thoughts arose as my lifeless
body huddled in a fetal position i' d completed
thirty hail mary's an yet my macerated flesh
lay still as the sun began
to settle embedding itself almost oh how vain i was
thinking merely of beauty
my beauty taken in an instant on impact
how selfish i was addressing the father how dare you
why this isn't living an yet you promised
i shall die and live i doted on you believing every word
like a faithful child twitching kicking the paramedics
oh what a bad patient scolding the rescue workers
for saving my retched life
do they not see the father in view are they blinded
by the light the sullen hue
that consumed my being torn flesh from my face
ah in my lowliness my wisdom edified
as st anthony strolls by in a distant glare mending me
this sereme endeavor captured
my solace for peace although there was no peace
in my living i'd wandered deeply from earthly realms
a gentle peace in my dying bestowed me
i glanced at the road that swallowed me whole
leaving no sign of life it was then st theresa whispered
you are his child quickly i responded
oh no ma'am i'm not with child thinking only of my figure
she smiled a warm glow and whispered yet again
you are his child she gestured to another woman
st cicelia quite childlike to my eyes
she chanted you are woman you are child
do you understand i responded amidst my sufferage
for the sake of his sorrowful passion
i over stand his divine mercy