Long Dreg Poems
Long Dreg Poems. Below are the most popular long Dreg by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dreg poems by poem length and keyword.
The moment that I met you
Was the moment that I died.
The moment that I touched you,
I was soon fit to be tied.
You gave me all these reasons,
Then you made it bang or burst,
After all these countless seasons,
There is nothing left but lust.
The energy you needed,
Was what I could not spare.
Should’ve seen early your nature,
But I was young, and unaware.
In one single college summer,
You wrapped me in your daze,
And now eight long years later,
I still mired in the haze.
It’s a tainted emotion,
Puts me up against the wall,
Out of time,
Your love’s not mine,
We’ll never have it all.
It’s a tainted emotion,
Fills me with cold dread,
Should be a dream,
But I want to scream,
When I lay with you in bed.
The feelings I imagined,
Were illusions that you craved.
The lies I told to keep them,
Went on far too many days.
What remains inside me now,
Is weather, tired, and cold,
Not even seen thirty, yet
I’m feeling so damn old!
The pictures we painted
Were shadows wrapped in shade.
The ideal you’re in love with,
Is the dreg of a younger age.
Too tired for pretending
That there’s something we can be.
Time now to cut our losses,
For both of us to go free.
It’s a tainted emotion,
Puts me up against the wall,
Out of time,
No longer mine,
I’m begging for the fall.
It’s a tainted emotion,
And if fills me with cold dread
I regret the day
Made the mistake
Of letting you in my head.
“Love with its inherent joy is a bait to catch souls. Throw it into the still waters and you can see water rippling with life around it”---- By Poet
Men are on an eternal quest,
To find joy, looking here and there
Not knowing true joy stems from within,
Like the musk deer ignorant
Of the scent emanating from its body.
It is a treasure worth more than any riches
One who has joy within,
Can spread it to others.
Is not this our mission in life?
Giving the gift of joy,
Spreading cheer all around,
Splashing in the clear pools of mirth,
Bobbing up and down in self-abandon!
Like the cool breeze that blows
Like a sweet symphony that flows
It thrills and delights,
And comes to nest,
In hearts, pure and upright!
Joy dissolves,
Like sugar added to tea,
Lending life a new flavour.
Sorrows sink to the bottom,
To be brought to the surface,
With every slight stir,
Like the dreg that settles,
At the bottom of a teacup,
Making it unsavoury to sip.
Know life is not all joy
Joys and sorrows together make life.
With him was a jar of blessing,
Assembled before him were different maiden for their own portion.
Nigeria: A dark maiden went forward,
And on she he poured half of the dreg:
Crude oil, Cocoa, rubber, timber,
limestone, gold, silver, diamond,
ore, Iron, Coal and numerous others.
Then America: A long-nosed colleen agitated:
'Tuteur, to Nigeria have you've poured half of the dreg.
Japan: 'It is but few to us is left'.
Britain: 'Should we by power strife on the remains? '
Asia: '154 countries, to have a drip of the remaining ointment?
And then he said to the maidens:
The wind blown retired to listen.
'I'll pour on you remains but little,
Go get the little used.
And of the dark maiden who's given so many a virtue,
Let's see, what she'll use them to do'.
And then he vacate the meeting.
And now he's still looking.
Nigeria, what have you used them to do?
18: 01: 26: 19: 43
Maybe i should become a toad,
And lurk in the british embassy.
Among the chairs and heart-broken files,
Sitting on millions of deflowered flies.
Then when they're boarding the plane
Will i hop and hop towards them.
And as they often do to me
Will they ignore and erect their attention.
And then will i climb the stairs,
And saunter till i get up there.
And beneath one of their shoes
will i shelter. That my safety can
in Joyful dreg abound. Then as
The plane takes off,will i be
elated,to behold Washington.
But what if he steps on me?
What if...? What will i do?
If i am a Jelly-Fish,
Glowing in pride beneath the sea.
And my existence is special,
To tamkalash and all disgusting folks?
Then will i swim from Nigeria,
To different parts of the world.
And as the dawn dawn will i
transform,when Washington is
Wrought in my sight.
But what if a wanderer wanders
to my path,coupled with his prey holder,
To withheld breath from me?
What if he catches me in his net?
What if...? What will i do?
Oh i know! I'll bid my worms.
Till i become an eagle.
And i'll soar and soar from
coast to coast,ridges to ridges,
Hills to hills,mountains to
mountains,valleys to valleys,
stream to stream and after
the long and streneous adventure.
Will i be elated by glittering roads,
flowered streets,virgin cars,
pleasant houses,gorgeous damsels,
diligent Juveniles,rigid electricity.
Boasting companies- Washington's regalias.
Then will i mount on a fig tree,
And transform to the real me.
And measure the beauty of the land,
With my heart,eyes and hands.
But what if as i soar in pride
My rival denies me of my stand?
What if her air blows pass me
And press breath out of my heathen draws?
Or if a egg-bellied littlun,
Fed with curry goats points his arrow
To make of me a fun?
What if he aim at me?
What if he aimed right?-
Heaven forbid!,stop thinking that way.
But what if?
What if....? What will i do?
But of onething i'm i sure,
And to my moistured heart is it pure.
That before the death of this year,
Loose the knot,i'll be there!
17:26:08:20:43
Dancing to Sisqo
like a dad at a disco
that ain’t the diss though
you’re a straight up pissed ho
handbag on the dance floor
where your sandbag **** fall
straps see you trip fool
your ugly face hit sore
wake up toothless
seeking a toothbrush
though it be useless
what a flipping doofus
go home harbour a criminal
brain damage acts horrible
talking his world of bull
so thick you believe the tool,
keep mans away and hidden
they’re out to get rid of him
swears on his kid again
but the kid don’t remember him,
causes trouble is he worth it
when all say he deserves it
pause, think, is he nervous?
6 foot under the surface,
when you’re just a pissed ho
out to dance at a disco
now granting a wish so
this dreg ain’t a missed bro.
My form of sonnet.
Ajosh Sonnet.
"Is their any that is left of the house of saul?
Any?,Simeon,Peter,Judah or Paul?
And so was he told of saul's servant; Ziba,
A bull that often pulled the trigger's rod.
Then dis David summoned ziba's legs,
That he-Ziba- may be hint on Saul's blood dreg.
Then "Thy servant is he" said Ziba,
With his promiscous heart pointed with desire.
"Mephiboseth Is Jonathan's fruit", Said he,
That he was lamed at course of his mother flee.
Then by the King's order did the lame governed as a ruler,
While the agile, till the land for him chewing; 'Yes Lord'.
Though,Mephiboseth was conspicously lamed;
But his God was not lame.
c.2017
The poem goes with the rhyme scheme: aa,bc,dd,ee,ff,bc,gg. It ends with a couplet.
I have no idea how long I sat weeping,
so tired, I close my eyes and breathe in the sun;
you whisper in my ear, I love you, and I turn the page,
back, back, I turn back the pages;
and the threads of my deepest feeling I have put to paper,
the penning of poems that one day will crumble !
I am lost in my thought musing and pondering feelings,
remember the day you got sick, so sick, mom;
and I held you to my heart, remember the day,
beyond all the weather-stained years, I think;
every life event- every scar on my soul,
every dreg of past sorrow has made me- ME !
A clutter of wood and dust and cobwebs in a sun dappled shed,
where tools on hooks wait, I weep for father;
oh, I have climbed from devastation many times it seems,
and with strength risen from pits of sorrow to stay alive;
till my last breath I will mourn, my mourning shall shatter hearts,
yet, inside of me is a strength unfathomable !
_____________________________
February 28, 2021
Poetry/Verse/Fragments of Me
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1333-059-28
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
All lines from my previously written poetry.
Written for the Standard contest, Fragments of Verse
sponsor, John Lawless, Judged 04/12/2021
Fourth Place
Water appeased her thirst momentarily,
would the dehydrated and weak lass
leave any dreg at the bottom of the glass?
With her lice-infested hair she strayed away,
by staring at the fence of barbed wire...
a wish for freedom scorched hotter than fire!
The teenager girl was not tied up, or held in chains;
neither she called for help, amid sun-dipped canyons
that only coyotes frequented: who would have heard it?
Years ago, she was abducted by a convict and brutally raped.
Before she drank the clear water taken from the rain-filled bucket,
she remembered how precious feedom was...having lots of fun,
running after a kite that flew higher than the blazing sun;
that was a beautiful world: this one was the ugliest place without escape.
. . . I am lost in a sea of memories
that scar the roadmap of my bleeding soul;
my words- the highway to my deep pain.
I follow a labyrinth of passages and corridors
curved and contrived- I am a child praying.
Oh, my withered dreams, my hopes, my aspirations!
Why do I dreg up my past sorrows
that come drifting like a dark death melody . . .
my grief comes unbidden to stain my years-
my tears hang from dripping branches in a
. . . graveyard where tombs stand in rows and rows.
Oh- grass grows greener in a graveyard,
and the happy hummingbirds hover in heavenly harmony
and red roses decay- the wind a violin . . .
(Blood seeps from the dagger in my heart!)
Barefoot, ragged, hair tangled- I am a girl
lost in the sad wail of violin winds;
. . . life stretches before me like a long road.
I am sick of all the sorrow- decay,
I want days as clear as sparkling wine,
to live a life of peace and serenity;
days brilliant blue and nights full of stars,
picture perfect, instead of this vast empty place . . .
Oh, bitter this life- yet a fire burns
inside of me and soon it will explode . . .
_________________________________
February 13, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/Oh, My Withered Dreams
Copyright Protected, ID 02- 875-889-13
All Rights Reserved, 2017, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, Best Free Verse This Year,
sponsor, John Hamilton, Judged 2017
Second Place
________________________________________
For the contest, Any Free Verse 200 Words or Less
Sponsor, Laura Loo Judged
First Place
Through tinted glass, I see cars have lined up outside, like a java-thirsty snake who waits to strike at the employee working the drive-through window.
I take a last dreg of coffee, then vacate the table for another caffeine addict to indulge in some dark-roast creation, while reaching into my purse for keys. Someone touches my shoulder and I turn.
Out of aromatic filled haze, her soft voice speaks into my ear, using my maiden name, which seems foreign to my own ears. It comes as a riddle, with question mark at the end, as if it were floating inside a bubble.
dust motes mingle with
the steam of French roast coffee....
someone drops a spoon
She slips into the empty place across from me, and I see familiar, but strikingly older, hazelnut eyes. They hold something unsettling, sad and seem peppered with weight. But she shows me a wan smile buried in a sea of nerves. She was an old friend, a good chum. How long has it been?
Just as I am about suggest a plan, a date to meet for lunch, she's running late, and must hurry, and has started closing the gate again.
espresso ripples
with element of surprise ....
an old acquaintance
We walk out together, ... I open the door for her, while she carries two capped coffees, and starts to head across the lot. We say a quick goodbye, I take care not to spill her load, as I gently hug her goodbye. She walks away in a rush, climbing into faded red truck. An unsmiling tight-lipped man , reaches over to the inside latch to open the door, that seems to be missing a handle on the outside. I hear a harsh, husky voice ask "What took so long?",.. loud enough that a few people glance their way. She smiles weakly, and doesn't look back to say goodbye.
under old tires
leaves are crushed into small bits...
a whirlwind of dust
my cell phone vibrates
someone misses me from home ....
sun breaks through the clouds
_________________
11/2/15 For Contest: Creative Haibuns
Sponsor Charlotte Jade Puddifoot