Long Eluding Poems

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


Premium Member Misbehaving of Zuleika-

 Zuleika, Zuleika
The misbehaved 
the wicked vindictive 
woman
Lie with me tells Joseph
 She is a African wife
  eluding her spurned 
Zuleika misbehavior wicked vindictive woman
 Lay with me she tells Joseph 
She is African wife of Potiphar
Lying whore the misbehavior wicked 
Vindictive woman lie lie down with me 
She tells Joseph 
She is African wife lying whore 
Play the misbehave wicked vindictive woman
Lie with me  Zuleika screams at Joseph 
She whose is African wife lying whore
Intrusion including her spurn
 Joseph On The Run he doesn't want her
He's gotten away 
with her beauty close
 she goes she is urged to be inverted 
Be avoided 
Be gone from me evil woman 
My spirit, soul, heart you shall not hurt 
Joseph says why I'm just a slave boy 
She wants to lie with me 
Powerful words come here 
Come to me boy 
Here come boy come 
Joseph seduce me come to me Zuleika
Joseph's refuses her vex 
He walks away from her hex
Zuleika eluding her spurn
 Joseph run Runaway boy run 
Run from her beauty turn run from her advances torn 
Run Joseph run misbehavior


6/20/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022


Sacred

It is a feeling, it is a place; it is a thought, it is a masterful race

It's often been said, "you don't miss it 'til it's gone."
Many young and old travel this path and sadly, they are left feeling alone

Money can't buy it, a thieving man can't steal it; a sick man yearns for it, an unenlightened man squanders it

Simply irreplaceable on this earthly plane is this hallowed place
Voluminous beatitude of mind, body and spirit

You can't win it; you can't fake it
You can lose it, so it's prudent that you choose it

Supreme potency, vibrancy and expectancy hover greatly as the 'big wheel' turns
No masquerading, skating or eluding principle
Just standing upright on the power of this mighty throne

Premium Member Yakety Yak What Was That

You're scolding me, as if I care
For tearing up another pair!
But, "blah, blah, blah"..... is all that's clear
It's miscommunication in first gear!
Yakety Yak!!

Don't you see that it's no use??
I'm just a mutt, (that's my excuse)...
Those scalding words you shout to me?
For floppy ears? ...... Eluding me!
All I hear is "Yakety yak"!!! 

What's with that??

You get upset when I bark loud
Or when I jump into the crowd
That time I chewed newspapers on the floor
Or when I jumped through the screen door

Yakety Yak!!!

You chased me once with that straw broom
Just because I wee-weed in the room
You keep on shouting this and that
But to me it's only "Yakety-yak"!!

What was that???!!!!!!



___________________________________________________
For Tanya Harrigton's Contest "Dog Gone Tales"
8/6/10
Form: Rhyme

Midnight Panther

Amazon is my night penetrating 
alert I sprung from branch tight
it is buck nutritious blood
observation stark from green-blue irises
beauty meets danger not looking away
lithe tongue saliva intestine surrender 

Muscles sinewy, handsome black the Sky 
claws ripping buck’s bones snap cracks
mitochondria leaps from atoms, stars dance
to splash spine fluid about sand wet soft
mirroring clear a rebirthing act
nature ascertains when to numb nerves to claws
no eluding life when hunger mud stalks

Iridescence watches flesh rip longing lick  
buck relinquishing spirit ~ cannot groan  
black fur transmuting flesh disappearing 
leather into charcoal night appearing
her thickening her for next week’s killing
time folding ouroboros
Panther curls, tailing 

_____________________________

[ Poet’s Note in Comments Section ]

Refusal

I embrace the dark as my own
Where shadows pale and absent light
Threads of time never sewn
Like the sun to never meet but a single night

And travelers grow but weary
Drifters sought for homes to stay
Evermore to never be constantly
Have I not yearn but a single day?

Out of phase, out of place
Everywhere is but nowhere all at once
Illusions and dreams, never again to chase
Have I a light from darkness to be given chance?

Allow me to refuse for a moment’s pause
If all shall disregard in kind
It is but treasured because its lost
That of missing, perhaps anew shall promise find

From light... was darkness my own?
Shadows but all eluding from sight
Time found, never promised home
And I see the sun absent shadowy night
© Joel Lee  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Paperbacks and Coke

PAPERBACKS AND COKE 

Two partners in crime, my love affairs…
Bookmarked pages dumped on my soft bed
An urge to roam among fays and lords,
With visions of despair or triumph
Knowing insomnia is the nemesis;
While Advil cannot comfort night’s plea
A hubris …firing my imagination.

While leafing through chapters, I find relief
From another quirk; an ally so sweet…
Oh,cold fixes of Coke Zero quench
This need to satisfy all day’s thirst,
Eluding water therapy…how bland
How tasteless when hero and villain
Begin a venture of mighty feat;
Jittery, hand reaches for the next soda
As my brain excrete adrenaline…
With paperbacks and Coke at 3 am,
I conquer twilight’s watch, quite drained!

But life is short, my love affairs agree;
Did I include the M&M’s cravings?



For rob carmack, A Vice You Love
11/21/2015

Premium Member Why

I spent so many lonely days,
many even lonelier nights,
asking of myself 
the whys and wherefores
of this terrible life.
To suffer such ignoble pains,
to be unjustly accused
of things I had not done.
 
I searched and sought
for reasons unknown.
Did I deserve such a life?
Or should I count the blessings,
a handful of good times?
Should I be content 
with what I've received?
 
Can I say I'm incomplete?
That I have not achieved?
Or is there a balance somewhere
that is forever eluding me.
Do I double count ill luck?
Do I half the good old times?
I must at least be sincere-
evaluate my life complete.
 
Yet if it's peace I seek
I must remember
that it is not for me
to ask why this, why that,
rather admit that happiness
comes only if we accept and say
"Thy will be done".
 
Then I'll need to trek 
uncharted roads,
fall into dark ravines;
meander through ugly days,
loiter through dreary solitary nights.
 
For I shall find all comfort:
the sadness I left behind.

Premium Member Multiplicity of the Self

Man is a jumble of contradictions,
I know, a hard nut to crack!
So unfathomable, so mysterious-
at once a Satan and an angel.

To the outer world I am someone.
But in the well-guarded cellars of my privacy
aren’t I different~
hiding my innards to light, as every other man?
Am I not a masked player in life’s pantomime? 

At times, I feel so proud, 
excessively in love with my own image,
like Narcissus, the poor hunter boy
fated by gods to languish 
on the bank of a pond,
over his own floating image!

However, with all my strength within,
do I not feel as helpless as Prometheus bound,
waiting for a Hercules to come
and save me from my plight.
If Prometheus’ bondage was God willed,
mine is self- willed…! 
Is the difference so very crucial?

Sometimes I feel I am Janus,
looking backward and forward
into my past and my future,
never living in the present.	
Or am I more a Sisyphus,
eternally rolling a rock over to the cliff
from where it keeps falling down?

Sometimes I wonder,
amid great splendor, do I not starve
like Tantalus of Greece in the pool,
beneath the tree, with the low- lying branches of fruits
constantly eluding his grasp,
and the water, ever receding before
he could take a drink!

As a poet, how I wish I could
equate myself with Calliope,
carving my mind on the wax tablet
with stylus, my pen and coloring it with my fancy.
Or Orpheus, so skilled in music
that with my sad musings,
I can make even Hades, weep
and the rocks to fall in line!

I shudder to be a Medusa,
turning everyone to a stone
with my sinister glance!
Instead, I want to be one of the Graces
and never one among the Gorgons.

Pitched in this gallery
of strange mythological entities,
I wonder how I appear to others
with all my multiplicities 
of character and identity!

Complacent Ones

Controlled by obsessions no longer can we trust. 
Cradled by your own indulgences for the cancer eating rust. 
The waste of time, sifting is the sand. 
Ever eluding conscience plight, 
Don't be your own dealer with rigored hand. 
Epitome just as black as night. 
A blasphmous horrid smite.
Those whom believe the lie are those he leaves behind,
The fact that keeps on slipping, contortions twist, bend and bind. 
The never-ending shifting wind, 
The ever-changing shapeless water. 
The repulsive reflection grinned, 
Scrying straight into the slaughter. 
Thoughts twist then drifted, 
Reality is you've been grifted. 
Epitaph will be all that's left of you, 
The fortune dwindles and you've never taking hold,
Simple are Adam`s atoms of a fu*ktard sold. 
Should of not contorted.  
Should have just aborted. 
Instead of playing the last card. 
The multiple ignorances of a fu*ktard. 
Is this just thoughtlessness or another rail laid on the track. 
Or can it be pure uselessness in a restless mind at nigh in black. 
And now that it said aloud and it's made so clear, 
You're lost in the complacent crowd. 
When you should have just drank some beer.
art
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member We the Doctors

We the doctors 


Unlike children of our age,
innocence fading into a sage;
Lost in a horde of books,
eluding everyone’s cynical looks;
Burning midnight oil,
unaware of the upcoming toil;
Time seemed to be on our side,
loveably rogued the good life;

Skipping scores of meals,
rolling tirelessly on foot wheels;
Deprived of sleep,
as patients came in heaps;
Working twenty-four-seven,
far from life’s haven;
Amidst ailment and anguish,
we could never relinquish;
Winds of sorrow came in gusts,
relatives of dying often outburst; 

Once listed next to God,
we now stand in the witness box;
Questions on our sincerity,
our knowledge, our interests;
Our reputation is at stake, 
Some soul searching,
and we can prove them all fake;

Worthy of faith, beyond any doubt,
Dedicated, candid inside out,
Kindest of souls, no personal goals,
Humanity, sole objective; 
With power of commitment,
Power of healing, power of words,
Power of logic, power to serve;

We are the doctors
that you be most proud of;
Humble and selfless
as one can ever be;
Serving at your doorsteps,
Defying comforts of hospitals
and conditioned offices;
Sitting under a tree,
Sun doesn’t scorch;
Winter doesn’t chill;
Whenever you need,
Always on our feet;

Be it an ailment 
or a social cause,
An ear to listen
A zeal to heal,
Whether the bright sun 
or the heavy downpour;
Even if a road block
or a Covid havoc;
We have a verve
are committed to serve;
By the head and the heart,
soulful emotions apart;
You can count on us;

We need no money,
just subtle words sweet as honey;
A drop of gratitude,
a sublime attitude; 
We are happy to be here,
for ones no access to healthcare; 
With such selfless intent,
our Sun sets in content;
Sending smiles through the day,
no one can measure or weigh; 

We, the doctors, 
are just humans like ya all;
Thy trust is what we seek,
We play no God.


Written Sept 17, 2023
© Dr Upma A. Sharma

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