Long Expressions Poems
Long Expressions Poems. Below are the most popular long Expressions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Expressions poems by poem length and keyword.
It stands in the middle of the field looking furiously across the distance with its two ears shooting in the sky and its adrenaline rising up in its feet and running around with fear.
What is the meaning in this when you are trying to get away from the precipice, the corners around it are very steep and it is walking towards the middle of the street running around in circle and doing a double dance.
The morning starts off with a bang with lots of media bangarang , pundits and commentators, deal breakers and opinion makers all gather around the town looking at full moon, and the miracle to be declared at noon.
It has been months of wrangle tangling and more than a hundred thousand hours of deal making and trucks full of negotiation driving up and down the street.
It alone knows what it wants, and it can only be said in expressions or in a few words moving slowly from the lips; it is not to be written on paper or fold up in a diaper but to be tendered gently and delivered with the rush of the breeze.
The horse is still walking around the track with a miracle mounted on its back and the sole of its feet has a marking that will show you how to enter the dome and exchange the throne.
Two phases are over and some people have just crossed over, the mountain is clear but the ambush is drawing near, a chicken in the middle of the street will make your heartbeat, it is unusual to see chickens in the middle of a busy street when traffic is flowing in several direction, and if you see a reindeer coming out of the bush leave that place quickly it might be an ambush .
The grape is running up the vine, the tension has decreased and the officials have taken to the street to stand in solidarity with the horse and the moose. I am wounded but I am not done yet, I will make your body sweat, I will go the extra miles until you breakdown and cry and I will lift you up and mount you on the horse and take you home.
To hang your head in shame for past that feeds
the thoughts you cannot tame, rehashing deeds.
‘Look up! Look up!’ at blinding light;
His Grace: display of awful* might.
Relentless worldly worry brings you low.
Look up at blessings He on you bestow.
The world we might have seen through narrow lens
could make us very keen to jump the fence.
‘Keep t' faith! Keep t' faith!’ and remain strong;
with your beliefs you can’t go wrong.
It’s common to be led astray by lust.
Keep t' faith in company of those who trust.
Poetic form: Staccato, created by poet, Jan Turner.
*Etymology of Words
Words change meaning over time in ways that might surprise you. For example:
awful: Awful things used to be ‘worthy of awe’ for a variety of reasons, which is how we get expressions such as ‘the awful majesty of ~’.
Mandolin melodies harmonised horizons,
yet the only strings being strummed
were those of my heart.
In the midst of enchanting melodies,
where nothing else mattered, but her,
we wandered barefoot, hand in hand,
as the tenderness of our steps decorated the sand.
In the simplicity of pure beauty, lost in a moment of perfection.
We lay admiring the heavens, watching daylight drift away.
The jealous golden orb silently sank, as colourful skies summoned
illuminated expressions to light up a black and white world.
In darkness we lay and gazed
lost in the silent serenity of the stars,
until the tranquillity of her sequin eyes
hypnotised my soul and I danced devoted
to the magnificence of her delicate elegance.
The whisper of sweet sentiments
revealed our secret serenade.
In the distance an orchestra of humming birds
hummed the chorus of our passionate song.
Her arms like celestial wings, embraced me close.
Her surreal kiss guided my lips home.
As waves washed away our footsteps,
the moon closed its eyes, as millions of shy stars
hid behind a blanket of nocturnal clouds.
Silent One
Simple Musings
10 December 2017
Theory of distinguished alpha
Elements of sentences that intertwine
Philosophy of emotion
Antecedent through expressions
Conviction of confess
Formulates a test
Introduction into Poetry
Talking Poet in documentation
Creations of sentry
What the mind thinks comes out in words
Open words with the destination being the reader
What the reader sees is sensation
Inner thoughts and inner dreams
It is what Poetry seems
Impact and embrace of empowerment of what the Poet feels
Writing is always a Poet assignment
Commitment to fulfill
Courage to assemble
Contributes to enable
Professor Poe, a true leader in his own words
He suggests, now express to the world, write and be heard.
Poetry is a priceless treasure, the most exquisite art
A painting of one’s mood and expressions of the heart
Through creative words, we can graciously share
Our various experiences on murky weather and on fair
It portrays all things we love or hate to see
Abstract and concrete pictures of dreams and reality
From wordsmith or in genuine words flowing out naturally
Poetry provides us the richest experiences vicariously
Poetry delights, inspires or makes us cry
In its intensity where its true essence lies
Whether a reader is carried away or not
Poetry is beyond golden gem from one’s mind and heart
Poetry is more of a gift with its cathartic factor
An excellent counselor and a good doctor
To write with bleeding heart holding our breath and fist
Poetry hugely embraces us as our best therapist
Oct. 6, 20014 3pm
-not for a contest-
I think the French and Greek have the most beautiful expression for the word "wife" in their languages: Ma Femme (French) and Gynaika Mou (Greek), which when translated to English resonate with a cave man ring…yea….MY WOMAN!!!! MY WOMAN.....Can you hear Tarzan bellowing that Ahaahhhhh...AHA AHHHHAAAA. OOOOHHHHH!!!! I simply ADORE these expressions...I LOVE THESE TWO LANGUAGES!!!! My Woman!!! Possessive…Yea! The only way to be!!!
Ok, you polyglots...(a word with roots in the glorious Greek language..meaning Poly..many...glosa...tongues)...I know that you can also say epouse....and sizigos, but why would you want to be civilized when you can say......MA WOMAN!!!! Rock on, French and Greek....Hmmmmmm...French and Greek men....lovely! ;)
HA HA HA HA!
Yea...told you it was going to be a silly post!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Parlez vous Francais???? Melate Ellenika????? ;)
pictorial
pointillism
a little dotty
expressions
by
impressions
frozen forever
intermingled
completeness
as is
moments
dot
by
dot
frozen in mime
as our eyes
fill the
gap
painstaking optics
splashed
side by side
in moments
of passivity
bygone days
filled with poise
their then
our now
in pictures
we devise
of
gentility
stillness
of summer
promenade
in activity
static light
making a point
shot
joined up
by dots
in
slow
motion
frames
I met my child within, 'Amy'.
We talked, we played, we engaged,
We looked each other's faces
for expressions.
We looked into each other's eyes
for emotions.
I had a lot to learn from Amy.
I saw a toy truck in sandpit, Amy saw a 'dooger dooger' bulldozer.
I saw a kid, Amy saw a person.
I was bound up in multiple layers, Amy was uni-dimensional.
I was a novel, Amy was a preface.
I tried to make fun, Amy was fun personified, gushing.
I was inventive, Amy was curious.
I was burdened by past, Amy lived in the moment.
I was grown up, Amy was ageless.
I was biased, Amy has never heard of it.
I was constrained, Amy was forever hopeful, free.
Amy and I rejoined, made up,
when I clasped
my hands together.
Craggy-bearded, old gent;
cigar in-hand;
faded army fatigues,
thread bare from the years at war.
He sits, on a cold mall stool;
chats away with the passersby.
An old-timer
with more stories to tell,
than he has years left,
to live.
The crowd gathering ‘round him;
all curious-faced and half-smiling;
listen intently
transfixed by his war-memories.
The faces that he makes,
Expressions morphing,
into sadness;
at the relating of exploits
of long-gone comrades.
A frozen-faced,
young boy in the crowd,
absorbed in the old Vet’s memories,
says to him;
“Wow, you’re a real hero!”
Craggy-bearded old soldier
Laughs; points to the, purple heart,
proudly displayed on his chest.
“That’s exactly what they said,
when they gave me this medal, son.”
By: M.L. Kiser
Entered into, "Sketch-A-Character" contest
First Published on Poetry Soup: 10-29-14
"Darkness is but a door, scary not because it opens,
but out of fear that it will never close."
by: Johnathan Jena
In darkness, I sleepily stirred, petrified with fright
at the sound of raucous roaring beasts in the night
Creepy things crawled on me. I shivered at the sight
A bell tolled as demons tried to tear apart my heart
I floated on a stygian river, troubled by my thought
watching a specter aiming at me with a deadly dart
Phantoms danced on my bed until my pulse grew weak
My wretched end was near. My death they'd soon seek
In gloom of this macabre scene, voices began to speak
Ghouls wailed and pounded upon the bedroom walls
I cowered when werewolves howled within the halls
In this tenebrific nightmare, I heard thunderous footfalls
My teeth were chattering as the house began to shake
more violently than a volcanic eruption or an earthquake
Before my burial song would be sung, I prayed to wake
There was a deafening crash from just outside my door
I was near the point of fainting, then woke upon the floor
Beside me lay the crumpled page of Poe's sweet 'Lenore."
September 25, 2022
One From the Dark Side Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
November 8, 2021 "T" Contest - Sponsored by Constance La France
*With a nod to Edgar Allen Poe for borrowing a few of his expressions from 'Lenore.'