Long Enjoyments Poems
Long Enjoyments Poems. Below are the most popular long Enjoyments by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enjoyments poems by poem length and keyword.
Blessed by God as a full-blooded Filipina
I’m endowed with great cultural heritage of Asia
Distinctively that of the Benguet “Kankana-ey” tribe of the Cordillera
Enriching my country, the Philippines, of her unique role in the global agenda.
Grateful am I to the Lord for my tribe’s awareness of the Deity
Shown by my forefathers’ acknowledgment of the Supreme Being’s authority
Thru their festivities and rituals revealing their trust in the God Almighty…
Igniting my faith toward genuine Christianity and biblical spirituality.
I salute my tribe mates for their respect to creation and steadfast preservation of nature
Affirmed by their diligent gardening and productive, yet prudent farming venture
Making them stalwart guardians of their environment, their bounty-pasture
While invoking the Divine Providence against calamities thru sincere offerings’ gesture.
Gladness* couples my appreciation to our tribe’s close family ties and intimate engagements
During bonding moments over cups of coffee and meals along conversation merriments
Especially in clans’ get-together for weddings and feastings’ enjoyments
Aside from reunions in funerals filled with reminiscences of varied sentiments and predicaments.
My tribe with its peculiar culture is commendable indeed
Steadfastly strong in its identity of tenacious influential creed
As it welcomes changes of betterment and prosperity’s seed
Midst technological development toward progress-breed!
*Psalm 4:7 Thou (LORD) hast put gladness in my heart...
December 1, 2018
3rd place, "TRIBUTE TO NATIVE CULTURE" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier; judged on 12/15/2018.
Godzilla likes to terrorize
And bring fear in peoples lives
When he took an anger fit
Tokyo destroyed bit by bit
Fiery eyes full of hate
Not one second he would wait
To start tearing down
A big city he has found
And used as a fun game
While hotness and red flame
Rage out of his mouth and nose
Temper rises as he shows
His ability to cause
A lot of suffering and loss
To whoever's in his path
His postalness is growing fast
So run as far as you can
This monsters getting out of hand
And wont stop anytime soon
His enjoyments spreading doom
As he goes on more rampage
Using Tokyo as a stage
To perform a play that will
Go on cause he likes the thrill
(or, "Your Old Stomping Ground")
There’s a secretary that I know
whose husband recently died
But life somehow continues as before
She has to keep replicating the myth
that everything’s all right –
A savant of the copy machines
A mannequin in a megastore
There’s a child that I know
who goes to school with bruises
Just a shell of a thing bearing signs
of a nightly artillery attack
When did we start sending
our kids to the frontlines,
And when in the name of Christ
are we calling them back?
You just pretend
Things aren’t crazy
The bandleader’s not deaf
And the King is not a clown
So you defend
The last vestiges of confidence
And stick your flag in the last square
Of your old stomping ground
There’s a family that I know
they only speak in whispers
Afraid to raise their voices
for fear of an alcoholic’s rage
I wonder how they’ll fare
twenty years from now:
Will they ever rise up from their manacles
or their transparent cage?
And there’s a young man that I know
Has his whole life ahead of him
Still stuck on the diving board
over a pool of unemployment
Just wait a while, just wade awhile
Cling to your inflated promises
While you’re stuck in this limbo, might as well
Drown in your enjoyments
You just pretend
It’s getting late now
And the party’s letting out
The stragglers and the drunkards head
for another port of call.
Yet suspect the hosts, the powers that be,
in their senility, misplaced our keys
So we derelicts wander directionless
Like half-ghosts bumping into walls
But we just pretend…
so slowly -
I have traveled this way before
crept along this route with deliberate intention
allowing myself the enjoyments that
each next measure brings
savoring the odyssey as if for the first time …
that mindset -
allowing me the discovery around each bend
of sensations, new and inspiring
each twist and turn offering a new reveal
a perspective or feeling or taste
that my previous numberless journeys lacked
how many roads -
do we travel in life?
some over-and-over, in haste
and those footsteps, retraced, so often taken for granted
the world bustling by our window
without notice or regard
yet -
each time I make THIS sojourn
it reveals something fresh and wondrous
a tremor, a flavor, an aromatic scent, heavenly
feelings, sights, thoughts, even sounds, anew
that my previous courses missed
but, oh my -
this adventure!
never again shall I take a centimeter of
this trek as a given
for it is the wandering that matters
oh, the destination holds wonders of its own
but -
this sublime adventure is never to be hurried
for it is made on a vista, divine
a landscape of unequaled beauty and breadth
that unfolds before me in amazement and portent
the sugary softness and voluptuous indulgence ...
inside - your thigh.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Choice 12 Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Where?
When did you get me fully?
I was just like before
Still, I am the same
In the sacrifice of love, I gave you
Myself, my whole being
But at the end of your thirsty lustful enjoyment
I got my whole being completely
Except one only
I, it's the library, filled to the brim
And you had savored only Kamashastra by yearning!
Sorry!
I could not take possession of you also
You are plentiful also
You are the one who is full of natural beauty
In every part of your sacrifice
was crowded the poetic stanzas
but only one was enough to satisfy my shameless desire
You, the treasure of poetry, the unreachable godlike roots
And I have enjoyed only stanzas of passionate limbs
However, after all these enjoyments
are we not complete?
29.10.2020 Chittagong
she likes it when i give her an unexpected massage
especially the ones that focus behind the neck and the upper part of her spine
when i do it, i feel as if i eased some sort of stressful pain of life that has consumed her
her closed eyes is evidence of the escapism that i have blessed her with
unwinding for me is the medicine of winding down
unwinding for her is the medicine of being glad to be home
when we merge our respective enjoyments and use laughter as the nucleus,
the end result is relaxation times infinity
she likes it when i rub her belly
especially when she eats a bit too much and the fullness weighs it down
the slow, circular motions of my palms create a warm sensation and causes the bough to break
when the cradle falls, i feel as if i have doctored a truly loved one back to health and wellness
her snores of increasing volume is the evidence of the R.E.M. that i have blessed her with
.
Yogi. Arts
Aesthetics
There were
Times such
Disciplined
One trained
Disciples to
Ever Desist
Temptation
Gold & Girl
Lust & Love
Men trained
To overcome
Carnal quests
A sensuous body
Is but a leather bag
A celibate to discriminate
The monk stays unmoved stoic detached
In every woman young or old treat her as Mom
Breasts you suckled your mother’s as an infant
Real men do no seek carnal worldly enjoyments
Covet not temporal beauty that will fade in time.
Yogi seeks immortality
steadfast on the path of wisdom.
the celestial nymphs may cavort before
Temptations wordly. Consider them a test
Gold and Girl. rest you eyes
are delusions. on inner core
you overcome. body beatific
Cessation. is corpse
of impulse. Stillness
nerves o steel. is cultivated
to be attained. Is the secret
in all learnings. and constant
Sacrifice temptations. Yogi has a mission.
sacred thread, mudras and mantras
steadfast Self in discrimination
The Yogi Practices
Brahmacharya or continence to the extent extreme
Religion says- Marriage is fundamental to Dharma
Tantra says - The creative energy is the root cause
Yoga says - Bhramacharya is the essential bedrock
The Gyanis say that true Brahmachaya is not forced
Brahmacahrya is- Staying with Brahma- in whatever
No point in physical abstinence, if mind is wandering
Various thoughts different ways to overcome to grow
he taught simple terms.
simple word usage. he also taught
what was referred to as controversial.
words that had double meaning, and
words that spelled backward
were precursors to debate.
They called this session of teaching
Word Artricle or References to Wrong
These were the teachings of Platonic Order
a reference to Socrates
not the actual teachings of Socrates but
it was derived from the Fifth Century scholar.
because people who love music
might not think about what
a word spelling might signal or has
potential to cause, it is rightfully sound to show
and or teach an individual what might
be causing him trouble.
the word drum is an middle eastern word
derived from the
Low German word Tromme. But in english
when spelling the word backwards
the word is murd.
A violin has a beautiful sound, but does
a violin come from. Violin comes from
the Italian word viola or Violin
which also describes the sun.
the word violence.
Some people believe both the violin
and drum means that violence is being
referred to in the music the person is describing.
the meaning of the exercise is to warn those
partake in musical exercise or those who think
that people use music to set a mood are talking
to you trying to convey a message.
Does one need to refer to his lack of Urban
sense or Urban Etiquette when
it comes to the music of choose.
Those country evenings with a fiddle and a band are warnings?
or are they engaging evenings of collabarted enjoyments?
The mocking Seriously or a Platonic Dialog?
Whist than is either:
that the latter is most appealing.
Time can be defined as the experience of events between birth and death, and our
lives, I think, are defined by the association of friends and family who shared those
events. The quantity of events which are shared with them builds and defines the
depth of our mutual relationships and strengthens that mutual bond.
As the bond strengthens with each passing event, characteristics such as trust, respect and admiration are created and incubated in the blending of those traits. We come to expect and take for granted that sharing ... and enjoy it to its fullest.
Then ... after years and years, the bond is broken by the Call to the Other Side.
The void that Calling leaves is an open, searing wound. We tell ourselves that the
individual called is in a better place. We tell ourselves that whatever degree of stress
they felt is: no more. And ... those things are true. However, large, entire sections of our lives feel as though they've been involuntarily ripped from our being. Future
enjoyments of their camaraderie will never be constructed. The pain created within
ourselves at their loss, is selfish because we've become so accustomed to the joys
created by the sharing with them of each of our lives that we fell we "owned" it - but we didn't ... we only shared it, and now we feel betrayed by its absence.
In the final tally, the things which can never be eradicated from our minds are the
mutually created images of those events which helped define the lives we lived - and
shared - with those who assisted in its' construction.
Remaining are the memories as our personal chalice which contains every conscious
happening of our lifetimes, along with those who shared it - and our minds will sip of its' contents whenever reverie, and thoughts of them, demands.
So slowly ...
I have traveled this way before ...
Crept along this route with deliberate intention,
Allowing myself the enjoyments that each next measure brings,
Savoring the odyssey as if for the first time ...
That mindset allowing me the discovery, around each bend,
Of sensations new and inspiring ...
Each twist and turn offering a new reveal -
A perspective or feeling or taste -
That my previous numberless journeys lacked.
How many roads do we travel in life?
Some over-and-over, in haste ...
And those footsteps that are retraced,
Are so often taken for granted ...
The world bustling by our window without notice or regard.
Yet each time I make THIS sojourn,
It reveals something fresh and wondrous ...
A tremor, a flavor, an aromatic scent, heavenly ...
Feelings, sights, thoughts, even sounds, anew,
That my previous courses missed.
But, oh my, this adventure!
Never shall I take a centimeter of this trek as a given,
For it is the wandering that matters ...
Oh, the destination holds wonders of its own,
But this sublime adventure is never to be hurried,
For it is made on a vista, divine ...
A landscape of unequaled beauty and breadth,
That unfolds before me in amazement and portent ...
The sugary softness and voluptuous indulgence ...
Inside ... your thigh.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Choice 12 Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.