Long Engorge Poems
Long Engorge Poems. Below are the most popular long Engorge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Engorge poems by poem length and keyword.
I see their intentions,
In their trances of manipulation,
Mind-warping affection, they laid upon you,
And knowingly you feed on what I thought you were absorbing…
You lash out at me screaming, saying,
“Rest your distrustful inflicting,
Look me in the eye, accept me, and free me!
I will consume their darkness in a bleeding light,
Whilst juggling in the enigmas you cramp me in!
You wonder why I welcome all,
As danger tickles my curves, arresting your nerves
You most sacred, superstitious little butterfly
Cease your incessant, mocking lectures
Flapping your wings at me in a colorful warning
Yes, I know you have seen it all you perfectly transformed worm!
I know what you know even though you think I do not know it!
Your metamorphosis of completion is impressive, yes,
Yet in your expectations, you ignore the fact that I am shapeless,
Stepping into the open air to confront change with all of its surprises.”
My multihued resolve silenced her…
“I hear you! I hear you oh so clear,
You innocent, raw little worm of a girl…
So I shall allow, just know:
My mighty wings are here to shade you, not smother you
As your guardian, I will trust with sting
Swearing on my every heartbeat,
I will protect you as you engorge on the thorns you call beauty
I will lift you from the brushes to let you peek at the hungry birds,
And you will plead for me to shield you once more
Though when I do not, and the birds dive down to consume you,
In fear, in haste, you will sprout your magnificent wings,
You will call out my name,
And in tears I will watch you fly far above them all!”
For Justin Bordner's contest, "The Instincts of Innocence"
LBI, Drifting Sands
Good Morning, Spring. I know you’re awake. I see your color rising with the sun.
Through the open balcony door of our third floor suite, the sea breeze coolly streams into our room as the sunlight pulls time over the warming golden bed sheets.
My love so quietly sleeps, still to hear every breath of the ocean synchronized with the rising and falling of her breast.
Narrowly framed between the doorpost and half opened drapes, the sea stretches a blue-green carpet from the sands to the edge of the Earth. Porpoises dance briefly on its surface and dive beneath its nape.
Sitting comfortably, pen in hand, my eyes capture a picture, the subject of which has been painted in the hearts of everyone finding peace on the edges of the oceans. Sea grass is bending with the breeze, pelted lightly with drifting sands.
Now, it’s time for hot coffee and warm pastry on the balcony by the sea.
Below us across the wide dunes and sun bright sands, a few scattered walkers drag their owners by their leashes near the lapping waves. The stiff wind off the early Spring waves feels chilly, even through their jackets and hats.
As Earth bows in reverence toward her perfect partner, something, someone awakens within me with the warming of the Spring sun. Like sap pumping slowly upward to engorge the budding leaves and reddening flowers of my mind and spirit. Is this dis-order: to be attuned to the rhythm and flow of Mother Earth?
In orbit: that perfect balance of attractions. An effortless flow wherein the music of influence plays in symphonic perturbations. Mother Earth sings her harmonies to Father Sun’s melodies as she twirls in the softening groove of her recorded destiny.
As a flower opens to the Sun, when Spring awakens, so do I, picking back up the verse of my souls praises of the Sun.
Good night sea. Pleasant dreams. Pull the moon’s light gently to your chin, a glowing silver blanket shimmering on your skin.
Comfort me through the night. Come to me through my open door and whisper sweet dreams in my ear. I’ll rise again like the sun to warm you and praise the gifts of your bounteous life.
Come Father, become human and kind...
sit at my blessed and abundant table,
and have a dialogue with me!
Many questions assumed for myself:
like uncotrollable rivers flooding their banks...
pitifully susceptible to oblivion;
a disaster so real and not too stealthy...
come Father,suspend time!
Indisputible are Your commandments
that make the sinners tremble
and the mighty complain and ramble;
unchangeable are Your moral demands,
and the devouts heed them with reverence...
to diffuse them without diffidence!
Come Father,engorge this eager spirit...
descend to clear up contradictory opinions,
words dictated by the die-hard and undignified;
this is not a conception or a dilemma,
but an enormous and contemptuous enigma
engraved on the souls that engage in snarling tactics
to ensconce, not to enrapture what is good...
and in doing so they captivate people in sin!
I declare my faithfulness with words that prolifate
and have wonder and inspiration...
true words that express a genuine faith;
I am not prognostic...I rely on devine intervention,
and shun what lacks in importance...
not debasing what is sacred to satisfy their impertinence!
Come Father, have this promenade...
let's talk about their impervious minds
that collide with truth with impetuous haste;
come father, let's make them perfect and pious...
give them a plausible momentum of grace,
and make them victorious and vindicated!
So in the blinding light of times
A blushing sense of blinking occurs
Small, ridged glass shards
Engorge my view
And paint my soul scarlet,
always
Soaked in the scarlet ashes I grieved,
And to those ends,
the loss of my vision
and the future that was
Such miserable tears as I have
What am I to do with these?
They are my only legacy.
From torn-off flesh as victim as I was
Soaked through, perspiring pores
I crafted for my sake a skin bottle
that would house my only possessions.
That would Otherwise
be lost with time.
Flayed and gored
Being slaughtered in carnage
I pooled all my possessions through
this skin bottle of mine
With each of these afflictions of flesh
I made my deposit timeously.
How does it feel?
How should it have felt?
Each drop was the salvation
otherwise lost with nature,
aged through space
Long i cried, many days i kept dying
Dripping my possessions, so not to waste
These were my only legacy.
That atleast,
even the torment was real
I don't want to be an unknown
In the only world I have know
No trace i was ever present
Erased, as a beast of the field
Here one morning,to be
devoured by noon
So in my agony I'll keep dripping
these jewels into my skin bottle
There atleast my legacy lives on
And so i was here,
I was present.
Even if pain was my legacy
Isn't a name better that an unknown?
Or am I to die as the beasts of the fields
Known and remembered by none.
I must keep my legacy tight under my arms
a possession forged from my pains
Molded by myself for my own comfort
Even through the discomfort
As I plead, bleeding my tears.
Relieving them forward
into my skin bottle
My one true legacy,
proof I existed
When Winter lifts some clouds with heavy rain
The ones that write ominous across the sky
That engorge themselves on heaven's grays
So much weight can not sustain this vision
Peoples eyes can only take in so much distance
Elements weigh heavy on the mind in Winter
Cold has no boundaries when snow comes down
Crowds gather at the fireplace in center city square
Warmth made from frozen logs and matches
They are the only light created in this misery
Dim as it might be
It is the only thing worth seeing
When clouds surround the city
Winter lifts some clouds in our direction
They may come but never leave
When fog sets in
"Life being what it is when one dreams of revenge," ... Paul Gauguin
Light seasoning dash a chain last resort
as zephyr courses an edged clement squeeze ...
sun gods and goddesses front more ... last sort.
Muzzled chartreuse turtles exhale teal seas,
fed cool streams persuade a lush verdant spree.
Cascading falls echoed balanced wildlife,
aground or in flight where heaven's decree,
claimants amity free beyond the rife.
Hawaiian spun air spells a differing,
abated Summer rains, engorge their Fall.
Ocean water's temperate offering
uncommon to most except those who call
these islands, their home. The tourists share cold
tales, saying here's paradise--we've been told.
The cold chambers of my mind
Lacks happiness and a sense of belonging – I’m feeling soar
Under the snow is where you’ll find me
For, I’m snowed under by your heartless remarks, giving me the impression that you
used to envy me possibly
Under the water is where you’ll see my body
You can’t save me from drowning, so don’t make me change my mind…I’ll do the
impossible and I’ll do the opposite of what you tell me to do – let me go…help me,
somebody!
I loved you, girl…you were my darling angel
My dreams are broken because you abandoned me…carelessly…tactlessly…we used to
lack hands like two grand lands in agreement with each other – we’re those lovers
embracing each other lovingly and without a care
I’m all alone…I’m all alone…without a care…
I’m on my own…I’m on my own…everyone starts to stare
Can you look the other way someday?
Am I that attractive to you all? I’m sorry – I don’t roll that way!
You lead me to another lane…you knew where you were driving
You knew the course from the start; now, we hit a dead end, still surviving…arriving
undone
You ran me over heartlessly
You knew that I’d meet my fatality
You injured me inside and out
You hurt me badly without a doubt
Condescendingly, you burned away one of my favorite times of my life
I did the same thing to you, except I gave you space to regret everything you have done
to me – making me victim to your sinister strife
No apologies accepted…all will be rejected
In the long run, you’ll feel infected…
You are gonna be that orphan, all alone without blankets to wrap yourself around in –
having no time to commit even one childlike crime
You marinate and engorge in your abominable sin…spiraling from deep within you – where
have you been? You were my faithful kin once upon a time
Let me whisper in your ears
About how many times you’ve neglected me – for many years
You didn’t even noticed I have wept a thousand tears or more…you never reflected upon
me like mirrors
Don’t freeze my heart with your malicious, merciless words – its sole purpose is to harm
than do any good
How did you view love? Like a game?
Didn’t you feel this shame without a shameless name?
Don’t strike me with your perilous love…stop making me feel pity!
Don’t play rough! Play fair and please don’t neglect me…
Please don't neglect me once more . . .
Dusk descending on the shore -
My eyes engorge themselves on orchid and wisteria swirls
which frost a blue-cake cotton-candy sky.
Peacefully, deeply, I draw in breath to savor
that special flavor of the sea. Its salty tang
delectably has mingled with the lime of my man's cologne.
Suddenly,the screech of beach scavengers assaults our ears.
Coming to claim our picnic’s small remains,
the gulls, through sky now glazed maroon, are shadows swarming-
dusk descending on the shore.
Written 9/19/2015
For the MIXED SENSES - Poetry Contest of nette onclaud
THEME: Evening
Reveled in ancient times, words escape from the crevices of nature
Through soils that many have tread
The living and the dead
Eat everything and take a great big look
Something is waiting for you—someone is there for you
The history of mankind will not tell you otherwise
The vines of truth and peace surround your being
You are something new and true
And the words are willingly fleeing from my grasp
Life is a spinning top—it spins as long as you keep it going
Manmade trinkets are concepts of lives untold
Objects hold energy that are more powerful than mere words
The feeling behind the whole of it all is all too satisfying
Listen to the breeze
It whispers riddles that lift the spirits of the deep
I can hear it calling
Can you?
Humanity has closed its breadth of hearing
But they can always reopen!
Consume me—let the fires of your passion envelope me
I want to know everything I can before I leave this world behind
I want the living and the dead to be satisfied in luxuries
Luxuries of love, appetite, desire and cool water fire
There is a secret rhythmic chord in every brain
You must accept yourself
You must accept your surroundings
Let them curl all around you—let your heart turn from serpentine to
Clear fluid
Consume the waters
Consume me
Before the worms in the soil soak in what is rightfully yours
The earth will be your companion
Engorge what you may . . . but respect
This is a collaboration I had been working on with a friend a while back. We might change the title. Her name is Rebecca Larkin. She started the poem with the first line and from there we switched back and forth. Wrote it at the beginning of the year sometime; forgot to date it, oops! Anyway, enjoy!
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Like dust in the wind, we are doomed to repeat ourselves
Mingling past with present, we collect on the grimy shelves
Of past’s hard keep, falling on repeat
We gain from the pain and strange bittersweet
Taking in the reality-split dreams
The etching pangs of truth bursting at the seams
With every glistening drop of clarity
We engorge on the reliefs of now—a rarity
Thoughts pool in a sludge of black, gleaming like oiled silk
Denials spread like fires; saturated, we bilk
Pain and tragedy strike their resonating, dissonant chords
A darkness and sadness we can only desperately afford
Pain. . .strife. . .repetitious like a swinging pendulum
Achingly perfected rhythms gainst the beating death drum
Slivers of silvery hope shine through darkened clouds
Only to be covered again in menacing, smoky shrouds
Faith is left dying in a pit of despair
As the rest of emotion looms helpless in the air. . .
Nothing seems fulfilling anymore
The replay button fools my mind and cuts me to the core
Round and round it goes again like the jagged tick of a clock
Striving for purpose—screaming for love to find the lock
But only silence escapes, beneath the skin torn lips- nothing remains
The aftermath of quietude aches, scraping against endless pains
hope falls away into a deplorable state; waiting—hoping—for resurrection
And the painful power of truth is forced to gaze at its reflection
Questioning whatever has happened to faith and belief?
And why are the cliffs of sorrow so steep?
Like settling dust we merge our present with the past
Leaving the future on the shelf—too empty—too vast
Squandering the sand of time with nothing left, nothing left