Long Finger Poems
Long Finger Poems. Below are the most popular long Finger by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Finger poems by poem length and keyword.
Nail slips between lace and hesitant skin
Trembling fingers
meander over virgin ground
Smallest gasp
as she breaths in
Further down
seeking fountain
uncouth
Stop awaiting
permission
Thighs part slightly
Moistened ruby lips
copy on her face
Her breath race
Finger trace
Her hidden place
Gentle or unsure
Wetness welcomes
More
moving inside
Wanton open stride
Eyes can't hide
pleasure
pain
decide
Betrayed by her sighs
as on my hand she slides
Legs shake
Teeth taste lip
Halt
held in perfect plane
Her eyes hungry and insane
Her look almost disdain
This is not a game
Entwined my hair
And pushed with care
my face to replace
The finger that never wants to leave there
The vernal pool of Heaven opens Lenore looks down upon LOVE lost
Lotus blossoms floating on air , swallowing the Sunlight and Die in the Frost
The softness of the Feathers of an ANGEL’S WING Touched by LENORE and I
True sadness Entwines Our Hearts Together, FOREVER as ONE in Each Others Eye
These are the Words of YOUR Earthly LOVER, Harry YOUR Husband, He LOVES YOU
Shh! Lenore Gestures with Her Finger to HER LIPS, My Beloves : “ Poetry; So True “
You are His Guardian ANGEL Asks LENORE : “ I am “ “ KASHINATH “ Forever LOVE”
Your wings Flutter so, “the Flowers Singing, Dew crying to the Hot Sun ABOVE"
Lenore “Take Words from My Heart, to My BELOVED : Serenade Him with Infinity
Flap Your Wings, ride the Wind of Heaven Go to him, and say I wait for His Eternity
Inspired by The Contest " Reflection " Sponsored By
" Constance La France " ~ A Rambling POET ~
By HGARVEY Daniel Esqure -- HG
Dedicated to Those Waiting For Us at The Pearly Gates
5th Place
Dictionary describes the word “dactylion”
As the tip of your middle finger
So if someone gives you the dactylion
They're giving you a zinger!
Have you ever been subjected to “gargalesis”
It's described as heavy tickling
Love being gargalesis in certain areas
Might even involve some licking
Do you know a word that accurately describes
Incessant or idiotic laughter
The dictionary describes it as “abderian”
Shaking the room to the rafters
When someone's eyes start to “oculoplania”
They're assessing someone's charms
I've always called it just plain old ogling
Not meant to cause any harm
The dictionary describes “slubberdegullion”
As a filthy slobbering individual
Known a few of these guys in my time
They leave a quite nasty residual
A person who hates smelling tobacco smoke
Is called a “misocapnist”
That's me for sure I'm surely a misocapnist
Probably number one on the list
And now to end with something distasteful
It's the word “krukolibidinous”
It's the act of staring at someone's crotch
What say you, had enough?
© Jack Ellison 2013
Self confident
I would feel inconvenient
to be dead,
Yet relieved in freedom
from trimming toe
and finger nails
and receding hair
advancing down wrinkling neck
and softing shoulders.
Although not confident
I could grow
satisfied with fictional fame,
self-grandiosing glory,
I remain curious
how timelessly satisfying might emerge
historically famous fictions,
glories of grandly granted otherwise.
Confiding ancient secrets,
I could feel confluent
intuiting alive
resilience in freedom to survive
culture's soft-spoken rhyming terror
flirting with authenticity
of memory's patterned identity
and difference,
identically coincident.
Faith
masquerading hope,
Light
fading dual-dark air without
within
True life
camouflaging trust's pervasive love
Confident
I would feel false
to grow prematurely dead.
the paper burned quietly,
no fireworks,
just a thin sick smoke
curling up from the courthouse steps
like a tired prayer nobody meant.
and the people kept walking
because hunger doesn’t wait for laws
and rent doesn’t care about ideals.
without that old spine of rules,
the street learned new muscles—
fists instead of words,
boots instead of ballots,
sirens instead of sentences.
a man got taken in the alley
for saying the wrong thing
to the wrong uniform.
no charges, no record,
just an empty chair at breakfast.
the churches filled up fast,
the jails faster.
every promise needed a gun to back it up,
every job needed silence,
every silence needed fear.
the rich hired walls,
the poor learned shadows.
rights became a rumor,
like a clean river
or an honest deal.
you could still drink yourself blind,
still fall in love with the wrong person,
still wake up wondering where it all went wrong—
but now there was no place
to point your finger
except at the sky
or at the man with the badge
or at the mirror.
and the mirror wouldn’t testify.
so people learned to whisper again.
they learned to look down.
they learned that power
likes an empty room
and hates a crowd.
freedom didn’t vanish in an explosion—
it leaked out slow,
through boredom,
through fear,
through men who said
“this is just how it has to be now.”
and that was the worst part:
not the chains,
not even the blood,
but how ordinary it all felt
after a while.
like bad weather
you stop complaining about
because it never moves on.
I stood in awe as she alighted like a bird upon some branch,
Belisha beacon to the abyss bound clochard.
Bonfire for uncanny scion adrift,
ignited by her
incandescent eyes.
Chanteuse of Arcadia on song and sound.
Halo at the crossroads, spreading out her wings to scupper animus
and bile.
Mystic lodger earthen yet ethereal,
hoisting every limb aloft from Bern to Betelgeuse.
Limelight vernal
queen blessed by open columns, healer on the arc where tangents dwell.
Silver tiptop finger nails a castanet with magic samba grooves.
In ritual or routine this lifeline Flora,
bright zoetic statue,
magnetising symbol for the bod without a bean.
Silken hands that rock the infant cradle,
quelling fractious babies, saboteurs of sandman’s mythic dust.
Moonlight moths that
flit across the glossy pages sculpted in her cheeks.
Backstreet lantern white knight,
echo in a mirror of chatoyant eyes.
Cast iron shadow coat tail,
destiny’s de lux edition bound but never gagged.
Damsel on assignment,
ever present vigil, soothing troubled psyches as they wallow in the waters of Lethe.
Nightingale who weaves an ample flourish,
band aid profile minder of a
cobblestone waif,
otherworldly migrant,
window on polluted quarters
harbouring those abject fallen figures,
bane of ghostly ushers when they prowl.
Heroine’s ascension ,
angel flying over heaven’s ladder,
waiting for that moment when her heart has found a home.
Her face
Her haunting eyes
The luscious red lips...
Shuffling midst leaves between his feet
Meandering emotions of desire
A fog in his head, swimming upstream
Then lifting, replaced by the pure heat of fire
Her soft auburn hair
The slope of her shoulders
The sway of her hips and her waist...
He plots his next move midst mounting fear
Would he ever whisper his passion in her ear
The rain poured down now, soaking his clothes
He'd ring her doorbell, give her that rose
Aloft in a mist
Lighter than air
A vision, enticing and fair...
He'd purchased the flower, shaved and showered
Hustled cross town, though late was the hour
Finger poised on her doorbell, his decision unmade ~
At the sight of two silhouettes intertwined on her shade
Why are so many people
So ing rude!
They all feel so entitled
With their “IT’S All About Me” attitude!
Disrespect has replaced
Common courtesy and good will
They would rather give you the finger
Or worse attack you or even kill!
How have so many hearts
Turned so evil and black,
Is it a growing sickness?
Or a sense of humanity they all lack?
I’ve now become a cynic
A distruster of mankind
Am I the only one who see’s and feels this?
Is everyone really that ing blind!
No more love or compassion
For our so called fellow man
It’s replaced with greed for money and power
And everyone who’s not part of their plan.
So I now live in my own little world
Where I am away from their greed and inhumanity
Where I am loved and respected
And away from all their ing insanity!
Every four years and it seems that every year in between,
Politicians prey upon the populace venting their usual spleen,
Promising this and promising that, saying they will deliver.
The scatological babble flows like a flooding tidewater river!
Candidates and their pals prowl about the nation to promote,
Anything they think we ought to hear, anything to get our vote!
They vow to build a local dam and provide universal medical care,
Lower the national debt and clean up the polluted air!
They promise they'll never raise taxes, looking us dead in the eye.
We've heard that one before - they'll increase them bye and bye!
When they proclaim, "I have a plan!", we become very suspicious.
They expound on grand schemes - most turn out to be fictitious!
Farmers are assured they'll get top prices for beef, corn and wheat,
While promising consumers they'll pay less for what they eat!
They promise new roads, bridges, schools and such,
But once in office, they seem so remote and out of touch!
Regardless of their party affiliation, politicians are all the same.
When things go awry they all point the accusing finger of blame.
And when at last that exalted office they attain,
Alas, it seems all those promises were made to us in vain!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
August 28 Scripture Meditations Based on Jonah 3-4
Key Verse – Jonah 4:2 And he prayed unto the LORD, and said, … I knew that thou art a gracious God, and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness…
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR BEING GRACIOUS TO ME
Thank You for being gracious unto me, being good merciful
Very holy are You --- though I’m sinful
You let me repent from my evil ways so awful
While bringing my soul toward becoming prayerful.
Thank You for being gracious unto me, since You’re slow to anger
Very compassionate are You --- though I’m tempted in worldliness to linger
You let me acknowledge my spiritual hunger
While touching my heart with Your loving finger.
Thank You for being gracious unto me, showing Your great kindness
Very gentle are You --- though I’m bent by haughtiness
You let me realize my arrogance-destructiveness
While abasing my pride for genuine meekness.
Thank You for being gracious unto me, and ready with Your presence
Very approachable are You --- though I’m sulking in self-pity’s license
You let me see my hypocrisy’s bad essence
While opening my vision toward Your glorious magnificence.
Thank You for being gracious unto me, as well as righteously mighty
Very powerful are You --- though I’m weakened by iniquity
You let me consider my ways against backsliding’s infirmity
While strengthening my faith upon Your truth-authority.
Thank You for being gracious unto me, with Your exceeding compassion
Very forgiving are You --- though I’m unfaithful to Your great commission
You let me recognize my previous hell-bound condition
While transforming my character through Your perfecting conversion.
Thank You for being gracious unto me, indeed always available
Very helpful are You --- though I’m incompetent and unable
You let me ponder on my mistakes, making me humble
While leading my steps to Your victory, by Your might that’s possible.
August 28, 2022