Long Drank Poems
Long Drank Poems. Below are the most popular long Drank by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Drank poems by poem length and keyword.
She tasted like honey, like apples ripe,
A sweetness that lingered in the night's sweet light.
With every breath, I drank her soul,
And found in her touch, I was made whole.
She tasted of sugar, a kiss in the breeze,
The flutter of wings in the tallest of trees.
She brought the sun when my skies were gray,
And melted the frost that clouded my way.
Like rainwater pure, she rushed through my veins,
Washing away all my sorrows and pains.
Her laughter, like rivers, ran wild and free,
A soft, soothing current that carried me.
She smelled of the earth, of green fields wide,
Of wildflowers blooming in places that hide.
Her scent was the dawn breaking through night,
A breeze full of promises taking flight.
She came like the spring after winters long,
A melody whispered, a forgotten song.
Her presence, a whisper, both soft and strong—
I was home in her arms where I belong.
And when she was near, the world would glow,
With her breath like the wind’s sweet ebb and flow.
She tasted like honey, her spirit divine,
In her touch, I was hers, and she was mine
Hemmed in within the boundaries of form,
I looked in wonderment at boundless space
and melding therein felt bliss stirrings warm,
rising from heart as outpourings of grace.
In time dissolved stillness, I stood thus still
and without any doing on my part,
soma nectar flowed; I drank to my fill,
throbbing with rapture, adding love to cart.
Space then God’s womb and body a bubble,
I shifted attention to the vast void,
feeling breath by breath ecstasy double,
no longer thereafter by fears decoyed.
Free and unbound, I’m now one with life’s flow,
transformed as a bliss mist, always aglow.
26-December-2022
Feel Free Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
We used to be young, and dreams where free
We used to wish for love, and run without a care
And now the seasons change so fast
The leaves they fall, they never last
We had our wine, we had good times
The days of spring, filled the air
Love was young, and filled our hearts
We had are dreams, seasons in the sun
We used to dance, pretty girls at the fair
Under starry nights, we reached for the moon
Now is time to say good bye
Think of me, times end too soon
The flowers will bloom, and hearts will always weep
But I have run out of seasons, run out of time
Too much wine, I leave lost hopes, nothing left to keep
We shared good times, and now the seasons have all gone
I was dressed in black, for this last dance
I drank from the glass of love for a final time
Prey for me, as I fade away
Our memories linger, as the children play
Eating a whole lemon meringue pie
I could be dead by morning
for I am old
Devouring him with my eyes
Showing him a true cougar
for my childish side is prominent
I never expected to live this long
I drove over a hundred miles an hour
more than once
I drank myself into a stupor a couple of times
and still got behind the wheel
of three or four cars I totaled. Walking away, sneering.
They say when you do dangerous things
you have a death wish
Bungee jumping? Why the hell not?
Wrestling with a crocodile might be a stretch
I am five foot two
my arms are stubby and soft
I lived and loved fast
Did all the things I wanted to do
I was supposed to be dead by thirty.
He loved me with a liquid love
that never weakened, disappeared or vanished
He poured it into me with affection
so deep it felt like the ocean drank me
He loved me with no fences, bars or walls
not for one moment did he waver
His love was more profound than love itself
intense as the touch of a burning bush
He loved me from above and from below
not even once did I have to walk alone
inside this Universe of spirit and bone
He loved me with Angels at His side
and with a razor mouth that spoke all truth
Words of connection that only God could whisper
it was then that I knew, He was drawing me home
with His liquid love...
Who ate the biscuits
Who drank the milk
It was not the cat
Neither the rat
The platter is empty
the milk is drunk out
Is that YOU ..... it`s not ME ...
I think Santa has been here
Do you believe ?
26.12.2012
A-L Andresen :)
Continued from Part 1
“Upon your knees in golden naves, while peeking through the slots,
You horded thirty silver pieces, downed a whiskey shot,
Then crossed yourself and wrapped yourself in furs of ocelots,
And danced on cleated cloven hoofs in purple polka-dots,
Then drank His blood from chalice cups with pious afterthoughts.
“You’ve treated men like mongrels chained, like little flies to swat,
By doing what you wanted to, instead of what you aught;
You’ve wiped your nose with dollar bills and paid your serfs with snot,
But when you’ve paused to preen your pride, you’ve scrubbed a scarlet blot.
“In ashes of our victories: the diamonds that you sought,
The crock of gold, the Golden fleece of bogus Argonauts -
In mirrors of your lifelessness, the evils you begot.
“The haunted winds strew leaves of time across a shallow plot
Where now, beneath the frozen stones blanched bodies bathe in rot,
Disintegrate, return to dust to feed Forget-Me-Nots
Amidst the bane and pits of pain where broken bones lie caught.
“In fields above the catacombs and tombs of Camelot
The black and withered tree of Death arises from the spot
Where oft beneath a bleeding moon you hid your gold in pots
Embedding doubts neath barren bogs where roots of wormwood squat.
“While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
From branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
Your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
With dangling pearls and diamond studs mid dripping crimson clots
And gaping wounds with bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
For wrapped in chains around your throat, the Reaper’s grim garrote.”
Yes, that’s the fate of all your kind, disclosed by Wise Men taught.
But that was, oh, so long ago, by now you have forgot…
End
We went back to my house,
our hands not holding
but lively nerves under our clothes
still slow groping the unseen.
The moon raced ahead of us
like a thirsty dog.
Mama wet her knickers earlier today
and she yelled at everyone
for she did not see it coming.
It made me think;
I pushed down the saturated images
with fresh quicksand.
When we latch-keyed in
the empty house begged us to come together,
it leached through dry walls
and made the Hummel figures
hide their cherubic faces.
The porch light danced
in the center of a moth fandango,
our ears were listening to the road,
our shadows acting out
before we could stop them.
Evening heat and coyote calls
trembled knees
as we
pledged and drank-in
that catcalling evening.
When they all showed up
I was laying on the bed
cocooned in an afterglow
that would not stop itching.
Mama bustled around the house
like a Nile queen
singing her ***** little songs
that only hoot owls heeded.
Dad sipped a late cold one
and remembered with a grunt
that tomorrow was still only Wednesday.
Sis flopped into an armchair
wishing she were dead or far, far away.
By then the moon had got so big
that I thought it might turn us all
into a story told
between old astronauts.
I yelled for less noise
but by then the house was silent.
[Afrikaans Poem with English Translation]
Ek onthou jou toe die spiese naby my was,
En die swaarde het uit my bloed gedrink.
Maar ek wou die swaarde soen,
Soos hulle gegrom het soos jou helder glimlag.
Ek is dronk van die rooiwyn van jou liefde,
So van so 'n dronkaard.
Moenie die hart vra oor die geheim van my hart nie,
Want liefde binne ons... kan nie met die tong uitgespreek word nie.
English Translation
I remember you when the spears were near me,
and the swords drank from my blood.
But I wanted to kiss the swords,
as they wave like your bright smile.
I am drunk on the red wine of your love,
so from such a drunkard.
Don't ask the heart about the secret of my love,
because love within us... cannot be expressed with the tongue.
* Dear PoetrySoup members. I wrote an Afrikaans poem and I understand that many of you do not understand the Afrikaans language and I wrote the English Translation of this poem. Enjoy reading my poem.
Weeping Demon
Beautiful old and magnetic antic cemetery
So nice, old, silent walk. Old monuments
Names. Dates. Old stones. Old cards
Hmm. Just walk on the path. I walked. Sad
Yeah. This way. In life. In my alone
Just walk. Emptiness. Deeply in the land
A cemetery. Love of death. Dark wine
Of my life. My soul here smells like
Graveyard. Tombstones life cards
I am just watching them. Old friends
Hmm. Or I'm laughing at life. Is this?
Stones, monuments are dancing
Just dancing around me. Lives of death
I don’t know my life. Mortal? Immortal?
Still alive? Or just walking dead? Hmm
“Hmm. You are not alone”, said a voice.
A deep, metallic, like ore, a friendly, sad voice.
I turned around to find the origin of this sound.
A demon sat on an old, beautiful gravestone
A man. A demon man. Around four meters high
Wise, aristocratic, noble old face. Sad wings
Unearthly gaze, all-seeing eyes. Demonic intelligence
“Yes, your fate is not a serial case.”, he said
“Nice to meet you. Why are you saying this?, I asked
“Because I am immortal. And your sad life is my all the time.
I live here always, in this cemetery; the human world is not my life.”
He answered. He just cried and cried. I had a wine in my bag
I always keep a wine when I am walking. We drank together
We toasted. The glasses were cemetery vases. Blood wine
Hmm. Reel blood. Oporto. My grandfather has this grape
Oh, yes. I loved. I like this wine. My grandfather made wine
We drank in this English cemetery the memory of this blood
Demon said, “ I love this noble wine. Good friend.” Oh, yes
I love to remember my grandfather. “ He was a good man.”
Demon said. Hmm. Yes. But he is in another cemetery.
“Not here. In Hungary. Then you visit Hungary. Flower. Please.”
I will do. I said. “Okay.” I don’t understand this friendship
A good, hearty demon. And I. “Look, we can’t accept humans.”
“Are you a human?”
“Look for that.”
“Bodily”
“Soul
Is
Demon
Like”
I am
Laughing
Smiling
Now
Demon
Is
Heart