Long Engorging Poems
Long Engorging Poems. Below are the most popular long Engorging by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Engorging poems by poem length and keyword.
way before aye knew
the name Fletcherism applied
tummy uncommonly (recherché) atypical dyed
in the wool feeding and/or slaking thirst guide
did precepts sans hungry
deaf eating beast impossible to hide
(the ferocious growling harassing imp -
armed to the figurative teeth ready to pounce
viz casus belli sans reeling off
a pseudo say id dish us vicious jeremiad
me, this unrepentant conscientious masticator,
who re: lied
on self control unbeknownst to this pumpkin eater
unwittingly followed
the basic tenet of Fletcherism - custom made
modus operandi vis a vis exercising okayed
mandibular metered (when famished),
eyes kept closed while tongue gently played
adhered to practice of eating small amounts,
which discipline stayed
engorging self, and as a result
(consuming sustenance
only when hungry avoiding
(wolfing like an instantaneous blitz krieg flash)
found me aware visa vis master car ding
marginal increase in pounds meaning
thy body electric weighed
approximately for long stretches
when a habitue at one or another dining digs
stuffed nibbling on hors d'oeuvre figs
adequately satiating with with oomf
when contra dance caller Scott Higgs
announced "hands four," which signal
helped get my mojo back
and reel lee deuce home jigs,
which kickstarted, syncopated,
oft times espying Bobbie Riggs
who years gone back whiz Vic Tory huss
e'en when donning apparel of Whigs
like colluding trump petting molecules
that via tiff Fanny doth zags and zigs.
He is . . . so out of my reach
And his words are like royalty to my eyes
He cradles them like he’s dealing delicate roses
Spreading them out on a dirtied, lightly lit street
Obscure words. . .that make my spine tingle
In a certain. . .pleasure, I find me back again
Crawling into the crevices of his luminous lines
Only to fall under them, holding onto the words
That I am able to. . .reeeeach!
My heart is filled with comfort when I return
He neither catches me nor harms me
But allows me to hang on each time
Using my own strength. . . my own passion to twine
But against the odds, I willingly fall
Upon even more piles of words
Words I have come to relate to deeply
And words that have conquered me oh so completely
The wars of my mind cease to fight as I read
The first lines, till the end—I feed
I willingly eat and consume fire and earthy nutrients
Engorging like a lion on its prey
Never really getting enough…nor leaving enough
I take all in and wither away. . .
Reaching for the lines soon to come
In the wasteland wilderness of disappointed love
I find you
Haggard and famished
Ravaged by the blazing sun
I find you
Spent and on the verge of death
I find you
I kneel beside your still form
I wet your parched lips with my tongue of truth
Your eyes flicker open
And I see the fight for life dawn
With my hand behind your neck
I gently lift your face to my breasts of nourishment
Weakly, you start to feed on my love’s sustenance
I speak softly to you, words of hope and courage
Slowly, some strength returns to your frame
Knowing the need for solid food to survive
I lay open to you the scrumptious feast of my body
A rich faire of succulent meat in abundance
More than enough to bring life back to your wasting limbs
I call you to eat...
In a frenzied need for survival you devour
Tearing into flesh, you satiate your starved body
You feed, you feed, you feed
Engorging yourself on my love
Insatiable, unstoppable, indefatigable
You feed the demon of your hunger
The memory of your near death fuels the frenzy
There is no pause in your love feast
I give, I give, I give
Still in the onslaught of your primal savagery
Knowing this ravaging repast
Will bring life to your bones
I give
Until you finally lick your fingers and lips
Satisfied
The cool of the night approaches
I languidly make you drink from my fountain
the frenzy replaced by fantasy
the fervor for survival by dessert of desire
Refreshment for the journey head
I let you regain your strength
As you then slumber on my pillowed breast
Your last night in the wilderness of disappointed love
Reaches an end with the dawn of a new day
As I hold your hand and lead you away
Out of the wilderness
and into verdant oasis
Of my love
Eileen Manassian
Byte size food begets best bedeviled egg head benefits
re: visited today April 12th, 2023
Way before aye knew
the name Fletcherism applied
family and friends even
Smetana's bartered bride
would (tongue in cheek) chide
tummy uncommonly
(recherché) atypical dyed
ded if the letter “y” one did elide
in the wool feeding
and/or slaking thirst guide
did precepts sans hungry
deaf eating beast impossible to hide
(the ferocious growling harassing imp -
armed to the figurative teeth ready to pounce
viz casus belli sans reeling off
a pseudo say id dish us vicious jeremiad
me, this unrepentant conscientious masticator,
who re: lied
on self control unbeknownst
to this pumpkin eater
(me not named Peter)
unwittingly followed
the basic tenet of Fletcherism - custom made
modus operandi vis a vis exercising okayed
mandibular metered (when famished),
eyes kept closed while tongue gently played
adhered to practice of eating small amounts,
which discipline stayed
engorging self, and as a result
(consuming sustenance
only when hungry avoiding
(wolfing like an instantaneous blitzkrieg flash)
found me aware visa vis master car ding
marginal increase in pounds meaning
thy body electric weighed
approximately for long stretches
to enable safe passage for sturdy brigs
when a habitue at one or another dining digs
stuffed nibbling on hors d'oeuvre figs
adequately satiating with with oomf
when contra dance caller Scott Higgs
announced "hands four," which signal
helped get my mojo back
and reel lee deuce home jigs,
which indeed kickstarted and syncopated,
oft times espying Bobby Riggs
who years gone back whiz Vic Tory huss
e'en when donning apparel of Whigs
like colluding trumpetting molecules
that via tiff Fanny doth zags and zigs.
My epitaph writ large...
courtesy third person singular.
Mise en scène pour décès
pardon his feeble attempt at French,
a unilingual English language
quibbling, and scribbling mensch
strongly advises applying
left handed monkey wrench,
which custom designed tool
assigned impossible mission
to discern sense and sensibility
regarding following poetic thread
subject of a fool's errand.
Mein kampf witnessed, punctuated,
and evinced courtesy final breath
automatically triggering (tumblr
to activate) final curtain call
and unremarkable death.
As stipulated in the living will
cremation of his lifeless body
cremated into soft gray powder.
A prerecorded hashtagged obituary
downloaded to individual smartphones
and simultaneously appeared on
the following poetry websites:
COSMOFUNNEL, Hello Poetry,
Neopoet, My Poetic Side, Poetry Soup,
PoetryNook, PoetryVibe, Prose|
A community of readers and writers,
and All Poetry.
He hesitated and lost out
on game of life big time
even fumbling crafting reasonable rhyme
noshing, spending, and whiling
inordinate amount of hours
squirreled away in his bedroom
surrounding himself with reading material.
He amassed fountainhead of knowledge
quietly engorging cerebral gray matter
whereat noggin swelled up
rivaling globe, but Atlas shrugged
at him, whose head
resembled the first Chinese brother
who swallowed the sea.
Odd his voracious appetite
to buzzfeed with one
after another binary byte
zealous precocity to engross himself
with storied reading material
that does extremely excite
(at the expense of healthy socialization)
where his imagination took flight,
nevertheless myopic eyes of his
did glean insight
keeping his cute button nose
between pages of choice morsels
to appease hunger
keeping himself awake
drinking high test coffee
during darkness aided by jacklight
processing meaty material with might
experiencing abundant, exultant,
intoxicant, over-extravagant
joie de vivre day or night,
a balm, elixir, inebriate... quite
the panacea to abet emotional incapacitation
which entails crafting poems
oftimes spending efforts
with efforts undertaking rewrite
unwittingly garnering a fanbase
courtesy ideology doth unite.
Flesh was falling from the bone,
clumps of flyblown steak,
rippling the glass surface below
its reflection fragmented in the lake
bloods oily residue hanging in long tendrils,
leaving a stringy mucus in its wake,
coagulated, and black, it stained the decayed clothes
of the phantom, as it moved across the lake.
Campers unbeknownst, they tarried by the fire,
laughing and enjoying their night,
the firelight a homing beacon for the spectre
moving towards the light
as nature calls one left the circle
and entered into the woods
the wraith shifting its focus
deviating - an end; all likelihood
it found its target and extended its fingers
inserting them at the base of the neck
blood curdling screams were released
as the pain disseminated - oh heck!
it lifted the man off his feet by his skull
and flicked it with an echoing snap
and tore the man apart
from his shoulders to his lap
The revellers around the fire
did question the ear shattering cry
and stood to call out to their friend
who was "supposedly" nearby
Not a sound was uttered,
no response came to their ear
as the spectre was engorging on
the flesh, its lips a red smear.
Tearing the meat from the bones,
and sucking them clean
the discarded pile of the friend rising
as it drinks the man's spleen
The eye balls, the brain,
the sweet breads came last
like a delicate treat, he savoured these
tasting the lymphoblast
and licking his fingers
he sighed in delight -
for the entree was satisfying -
but dinner was by the fire light.
Thanks to Terry Flood who wrote, 'The Vicar Spied a Spider'
an "eight legged beastie." It was my inspiration to write
about the beastly arachnid in the following lines.
Roaming all around the farm was a surly beast
A black arachnid who chose to sit on a fence post
It'd had been weeks since engorging her last feast
Oh, how that demented creature loved to boast
as the first ray of sunlight appeared in the east.
Charla Webley yearned to be the queen spider
Quite a sinister creature, spinning her sticky goo
She's a creepy one, an old crooked legged strider,
always on the prowl for innocent prey to chew
but won't fit in cracks if her butt gets much wider.
Charla Webley's started a bad habit of flaunting
her hairy legs by pointing them as if bony fingers
at anyone who comes near, like she's taunting
them to cower in fear, hoping their fright lingers
but it's funny when she thinks she is daunting.
But Charla wasn't paying close enough attention
when a hungry crow then suddenly appeared
Those she baited didn't perform an intervention
by warning crude Charla her enemy had neared
They smiled at the moment of her apprehension.
Charla Webley heard the caw, although too late
for she'd been bitten by the bird's sharp beak.
The moral here should be very clear, "Do not hate,"
or "Bite your wicked tongue before you speak."
Spiders with a bad attitude always rue their fate.
-Read from bottom to up, left to right and help me climb this mountain-
Truly
Rejoice
To be free,
To reach the top
Just allow yourself
You are very strong
I am no longer afraid
Soon I will be at the top
It is so beautiful and bright
The luminous peak is in view
Birds and insects cheering me on
And laugh wholeheartedly as I continue
I recall Mother Abbess from The Sound of Music
By legs began to feel the tire of present but still I go
I can never truly feel alone in this realm of natural green
Alone I climb, accompanied with the music of my tempo-stilled mind
I scramble like a beast, engorging in my own energy and headstrongness
I fear no end of precious time—I certainly fear not the likes of you, you rampart
My head is whirling in the wood—basking in the smells and sights of the enigmas beyond
No rack of irrespirable doubt can dare to bring me down again—I simply, modestly refuse it
I am inwardly confident and free—eyes focused straight up to the flurry, blurry peaks of new
The sun beats down on my flesh—tough, warm love that has supported me from the beginning of time
Without further forbidding thought, I make my way upwards, looking up at the highest mountain in awe
-it may be a little too long at parts, but it DID fit on my microsoft word anyway...xD Enjoy my pyramid/volcano/mountain thing..-
Rituals
are sacred
when they reconnect
what LeftBrain dominant
straight white privileged man
has transcendently and monotheistically
disconnected secular nature
from sacred polytheistic spirits
Earthly nature
divorced from Heavenly spirit,
power
from light,
empowerment
from enlightenment,
autonomous theological identity
from interdependent ecological experience,
personal health
from transcendent joy
Like segregating
sexual health rituals
from sensory wealth of regenerative spirituals
sacredly enriching both Yang LiberalLovers
and more mundanely conserving
Yintegral every day
red-blooded green conservation
PolyCultural rituals
of resonant positive is not negative,
resilient health is not pathological
cancerous wealth
Lives fulfilling YangYin in-between
balancing rituals
reforming divinely sacred empowerment
and profanely prolific ecosystemic
enlightened health/wealth
co-passionate care
Rituals,
sexual and sacred
are ultra-nonviolent sacramental
celebrating EarthMother's sacred
holy
holonic non-zero zen womb
of Yintegrity double-binary
ProGenitive balance
with Yangish LeftBrain
patriarchal EitherTop/OrBottom
conservative reaction
to protect healthy/safe conserving EarthTribe
through co-empathic therapeutic wounds
of historic win/lose zero-sum thinking
Unaware of positive
socio-eco-psycho-bio-theological flow
panentheistically co-operative
intersectionally co-invested
dipolar co-arising
bipartisan health-wealthing Left/Right
PolyPathic = Not(NotPolyVagal)
P=N(NP) strategic win/win
ritualistic systems
for resilient/resonant
global justice/peace restoring outcomes
Rituals
both naturally enlightened
and spiritually empowering
for health/wealthy EarthTribe,
cooperatively DNA-enscripted
organic mindbodies
formed and reformed
by co-passionate neuro-sensory systems
Seeking pleasing
pleasure playful rituals,
like making slow-grown
universally uniting
engaging
engorging love.
Wisdom scriptures swell through every harmonic creed
each deed spoken across culture's regenerations,
singing multicolored psalms of Paradise
Earth rebirth again through anthro-chosen death
of stale humans only need apply
to and for heaven's ridiculously opened gate
Radically sensuous ecojustice
sung by crickets
feeding songbirds
flying on and on back toward sunrise
sweeping across EarthMother's original baptism
in SunFather's fertile rays of godlight.
Integrity's incarnate presence
without monocultural apartheid
or even anthrocentrism
Messianic light by which all have come,
by which all return,
no creature comes through Father Time
on Virgin Mother Earth
but through and with each co-empathic Other.
Bodhisattva nature mystics
learning to plant and harvest souls, Earth's seeds
of holy holonic consilience,
synergy,
authentic agape I AM
this integral erotic EarthTribe WE ARE
fathers and mothers of rich multicultural birth traditions
evolving revolving time measured light
remade in humane power's uncontrolling image
Re-creation re-imaging
re-connecting
re-syncing
re-ligioning
re-generating imagined
time's revolving warm
nutritious
nurturing
spacious light
engorging timeless night.
Puritan politics of mono-theistic unsensuality,
like cold mono-polistic economics,
is either consiliently enlightened
or tyrannically disempowering
EarthMother sacred
or monochromatic anthro-privileged hubris
uprooting polypathic unconditional trust
exploiting fear of monoculturally elite dinosaurs
devouring spiritual paths toward more complex
synergetic
polymathic win/win elegance
Political bodies engaging resonant peace
restoring economic EarthJustice outcomes
for CoMessianic depolarizing rights
to regenerative polytheistic practices
enlightening timeless past
empowering spacious futures
below/above
inside/outside
immanent/transcendent
inhaling/exhaling
en/pantheistic practice.