Long Flairs Poems
Long Flairs Poems. Below are the most popular long Flairs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flairs poems by poem length and keyword.
Tis quite a beast of burden to bear atlas (shrug off not allowed)
Atlas shrugged an impossibility
tantamount to skinny dipping in the lock nest lagoon
Tantamount to shrugging Atlas off mine bony,
ill suited, widower wizened shoulders,
would take naked fat chance in Fountain Head of virgin waters,
eddy fied with huge boulders
which preliminary sketches to maintain pristine
(pure as Snow White's booty) kept in folders
when collaborative effort called, the fore mid able,
trio, sans state of the artists
(within their respective trades as writer
fictional hero, and architect)
Ayn Rand, John Galt, and Howard Roark,
who undertook resplendent measures
affected resilient as omnipotent cable
tub ring plenti kickstarting linkedin gatecrashers
to a snapchatting halt
instagramming, crowdsourcing, crowdfunding,
held at equivalent asper Bay of Pigs
viz Pay of Bigs
(in this context identified as
(vudu trained stalwarts, petsmart outlook,
incorporating literary, metaphorical,
nautical staff comprising fable
sea Crete cure metamorphoses abilities, as failsafe method –
i.e., physically, instantaneously, architecturally rendering
modus operandi capacity asper quick as blazing saddles
(ponied up by young Frankenstein)
kept in fireproof stable,
where at dextrous fingers ala hocus-pocus prestidigitation
which chiefly buoyantly ardently, and hardily drafted imp pier re: hull
rock hull impediment for shore also cast evil spells should
any foolish soul, who dared
to maneuver past the near blinding pier sing redoubt
to access blue lagoon like watery oasis
shielded via reeking poor Island
(where an atomic rooster gargoyle shrouded parapet)
buffeted the crashing waves against
the lock smooth as a glass table
whose wooden sea legs solidly affixed
to hip, hip hooray three chairs
inviting two story book heroes plus the author,
unfurling parchment scriptural roles invited ad lib flairs
since threat of category five hurricane
manifested took writer by surprise,
thus requiring her to utilize cognitive gears
which necessitated modification of original plot,
now bumped credos with religion
vis a vis engendering prayers.
In a job where time and motion had an impact that was nil,
I was introduced to modern trends that mentioned soon I will,
but I could buck the system if I chose, by opening up me ‘gob’
although it meant that very soon I wouldn’t have a job.
It was a man of time and motion with a smooth and silver tongue,
who delivered his impression on how workers should be stung,
and then mentioned data figures that would see his work implode,
when he waved a note to caution these techniques at our abode.
This puzzled all us union folk who had listened to him sprout,
and we whispered all amongst us what this buggers on about,
then he mentioned of his married life and with a gentle notion,
he said there’s times that can be duds within his time and motion.
So with murmuring and whispers from us listeners in our chairs,
we tried to fathom proper answers from this question as it flairs,
and we pushed a proposition for an answer to his grave concern.
That’s when our tutor curtly answered on a lesson we should learn.
In a tone that had a scary trait with quite a warning he did say,
he watched his wife at breakfast with her routine every day,
and by working time and motion there were signs that un-fulfils,
so he thought he’d help a little bringing home his working skills.
He noted she made extra trips between a table and the stove
From cupboards to the benches back to the fridge she’d often rove,
carrying one single item, which time and motion couldn’t stand,
therefore time that she was wasting sort of brought forth a demand.
So one morning he was forthright with a plan to ease her plight,
and he mentioned a suggestion on his way to make things right.
Instead of going willy-nilly with her routine filled with waste,
he placed a ban upon discretion and a plot to gain her haste.
Instead of carting items one by one; he suggested two or more,
then his conversation’s interrupted from a bloke upon the floor.
“Did this save time with breakfast?” And it’s replied “No worries mate.
It used to take her twenty minutes - now I cook it in eight!”
Four legs quiver
like clumsy cabrioles
striking smooth gray rivers
of zig-zag sidewalk barrios
in rhythm with happy shivers
syncopated on a muffled drum
as we talk and stroll
On our way
hand-in-hand
we persuade and pretend
this day away
taunting and cajoling to demand
laughing “hide and seeking”
chasing and skedaddling
poking and peeking
like cuddly pandas
or canoodling otters
splashing and clambering
We roll and meander
impetuously twiddling all the way
atop gregarious green promenades
we pause in slight delay
as we prattle and prance
as we dance to the Crickets singing
nodding to their fiddling
frolicking with all the jiggling
Serendipitous stalks
of snickering flowers pop
to dazzle and razzle our wits
we glide in stripes of candy bits
of rainbows bright
Purple painted paisley
fragrantly flairs in pairs
of scented lavender sweetness
among black-eyed daisies
dusting the woozy air
in a meadow’s billowing bloom
sunflowers sunbathe in costume
We giddily tarry
as we carry
a feast of fancies and treats
artsy bits of charmed delicacies
filled with a peck of upcoming kisses
enticing fantasies that wink
Snuggling shenanigans lead us astray
as we find our rootie-tootie hideaway
hugs as we shy away
from tomfoolery jesting
to lay down and swoon
looking up at the soon to be stars
lingering for the coming of the moon
Murmurs of Starlings
gaggle their harmonies
of chirps
in cheeks and broadened beaks
thrumming tiny melodies.
Swallows sweep and woo
fixated on this unabashed swain
through songbird strains
announcing a shrilling review
broadening in sweet refrains
“I love you…I love you”
Fingerpainting the Monet sky
puffy white cotton words appear
from clouds passing by
while tiny violins spin in the air
piccolos peep
pigeon-toed Doves coo and weep
their contentedness to appease
trailing off the pleasant breeze
I fall upon my knees
My words explode to strew
like a thousand storms set free
“I love you…I love you…I love you”
Can words truly capture the essence of the lady on the hill
Whose womb bore eight but yet-
Has mothered countless others?
Whose hands dug deep to till the soil; to stretch outwards to care, to share, to bear another’s burdens
To reach upwards, ever acknowledging her Creator and God; to reach around to hug, to squeeze with compassion or delight
As I write
Can my words truly capture the essence of the lady on the hill
Whose ears were alert to hear the fear in the voices of each troubled soul
To support, to mould many a one through life’s turbulent maze
Whose eyes were quick to thwart the tricks of teenage ploys and tricks
Yet gentle to appreciate the ruse of youth and childhood frolic
Lady iconic
Can my words truly capture the essence of this lady on the hill
Whose feet have tread through communities, islands and lands
Ever seeking to break the bar of ethnic indifference or scare,
Touching cultures and peoples, near and far,
The Purcells’ star
Which words can capture the essence of this lady on the hill?
Whose lips utter timely cusps of wisdom,
Yet canny to deliver sweet quips in playful jest of laughter
Whose mind was quick to discern, while effervescent in joyful banter
Whose sense of style in head gear and African attire
Depict her spirit of life and culture’s flairs
Antigua’s dame
Her name
Adina, Hebrew in origin
Means delicate and gentle as the way she cares for each child, woman, man
And also noble, spreading a fragrance of peace and joy, permeating the hearts she touched
For she loved and was loved so much
By all
It pains to recall
But as I pause, despite the agony, I have hope and can smile
For she blessed us and promised, t’will only be awhile till we meet again
Her love ever etched in my heart
Will flourish like lilies in the dell
Tis merely a fleeting farewell
No, words cannot truly capture the essence of this lady on the hill or tell
Of the love and true worth of Adina Augusta Purcell
fter nine episodes
Our new generation must know
The whole thing started
With President Carter
Who was in the Commander's chair
And the computer dreamers were setting off Internet flairs.
Billed as a trip back to the matinee cinema of decades ago
It was a marathon sci fi adventure picture show
Star Wars it was called
And the movie industry was in awe
Starting off in the middle
This space air force tale was all the twitter
Starring one who made a mark with the name Hamill
During a time when Dorothy was not in Oz but doing a camel
Then there was Eddie's little girl
Who was cute as a pearl
Add a hunk named Han solo
This fantasy project was a Go Go
Light years past with everyone taking other gigs
But when duty called the troupe made the franchise their digs
With the final one released
And the storm troopers are now resting in peace
Taking over the Jedi force
Is Daisy Ridley who just graduated from the light saber course
Carrying only one-word name right
Rey dug in her heels with all her might
As she fought a fight that was her descendants’ plight
But this seemed to be all a dream with all the work in front of a green screen
Geared to an amusement park ride
The latest Star Wars entry tried
It was nice the characters brought everything home
in a saga where everyone found a friend when they are alone
After nine episodes the credits have run
Saying goodbye since the good guys won
Skywalker, R2D2, C3PO, Chewy
Your mission is complete
And Vader no longer has heat
Han and Lea what can we saya
Besides we hope Lucas now can a paya
Now with everything in the can
And you have created all these costumed hams
May the force be with you
and many thanks making all this look cool.
They came for the Gypsies,
The time tribe Romana's grand Gypsy trust
To manifest in feasts of fear, horrific best,
The Crucifixtion as a culture test
Is sycophanted phallic prophecies;
Mixing spells where river's dwell
And will reveal third eye infusions
That dillute foregone conclusions!
The starkest of illusion will confer
The dead of deadest property, I'm sure!
Pillaged by proud Nazi's reeling
Who have not a friendly feeling
One God-Fearing German village
Saddles soaked in sorrow
Silently seduced bone marrow
Or from sweeter water billage
With Genetic trace
In hemolytic face;
A truth no German yearns to borrow!
Where fallen angels care
And Gypsyfied the wounds
With age-old Gypsy healing rare;
Where tinker-tapping dusters dance
A dance to Gypsy tunes
On pointed pins appointed special flavor;
As pointed pins do point and prance
Well-pointed pins provide a good and precious savor.
Hemolytics is genetics with inscription
Inscribed inscription's indecision.
If Gypsy wounds could fill the forest
With this Gypsy dance so true
Then everything I thought I liked
I think I still would like in you;
In fact, the things I know I liked
I soon would love.
Genetic indescription must be fact
As power angels grab a power pact
The fallen angels with their power prayers
Heal Gypsy wounds nocturnal during flairs!
Fluoresence fills the forest
Where tinker-tapping dusters dance
As pure and naked dilettantes appointed
Point of every perfect pin's romance.
Crushed or a crush
I don't know but it's a rush
He sees you smiled and hesitant
Will he ever know the extent
Of what you feel for him
Of what you think you could be
It might be on a whim
It's a possibility
Seeing him sitting there
With personality that flairs
His style is tranquil
And time seemed to be still
Everything I saw made my heart warm
I could see it in his eyes it had my soul transformed
Imagining his hand into mine
Maybe that's what God designed
The only answer was on the tip of my tongue
I guess my words will stay unsung
Desire or be desired
If I said I was both I'd be a liar
He listens and projects
He might be perfect
when your
seeing him sitting there
with his piercings and radiant hair
His smile could cure depression
His words always left an impression
Of something deeper past all perception
Everything he would say
I would soak up day after day
Motivate, exhilarate, invigorating me to dream bigger than before
Inspire, aspire, admiring everything he is speaking for
He opened my mind and explained his conceptions
We walked all the way home and made a new connection
The only thing that I know
is I want him to like me so
Damn much
It torments
My heart
With segments
Of hope that departs
Will he ever like me it would be a start
In the middle of the night a door slams
The awful scent of cigarettes floats upward penetrates my nostrils
Insomnia keeps him up and restless
Lying here I hear, smell and know that the worst is yet to come
Huntington's Disease slowly destroys brain cells
Mutant form of huntingtin aggregrates within the brain
It touches the connectors and interfers with the synaps
Extra dopamine causes his need for instant gratification
I taste the tears as they spill tumbling down
Feel the his fear, his terror of what lies ahead
I can hear his hurtful words as his temper flairs
Thankful for his hugs when he is calm
I am glad that he is able to work for inability lies ahead
Unless some researcher somewhere finds a treatment
If not only downhill slide is inevidible
Destruction of the brain will leave him unable to even swallow
Let my tears spill down, overflow touch upon my face
Taste the salt as they touch my lips
Let me face the daylight hours with courage and strength
Today he might stumble and fall into the horrors of the disease
Contest: In A Relationship With Disabled Person
Sponsor: W. Thomas Markham
One famous person with Huntington's Disease was Woody Gutherie
If you care to you can type in Woody Gutherie on YouTube and hear him..
( A COLLABORATION BY ROBERT JAMES LIGUORI AND NATASHA L SCRAGG )
I look into the fire.
Many scenes play out before me
Horses galloping, people running
Or creatures dancing merrily!
Sometimes I just see the flames,
The autumnal colours that flair.
They warm the room, they comfort the soul
When it's bitterly cold out there.
Fire is a thing of beauty.
But like all things, it must be respected!
Any abuse or misuse of it,
Then disaster will be detected.
Fire is a fascinating element.
It can be humble, can be small.
But send it roaring through a forest
And it will consume all!
But can a scorched earth be admired...
From uncontrolled forest fires?
Or can we love the effects of tingling air,
Like produced auroras from solar flairs?
' One more log ' to watch the flames rise!
Let inferno come before us!
A play of charismatic plasma actors,
Dwindling down to piles of ashes and dust!
Close to the beginning of time,
Eyes upon eyes have seen its light...
Yes! Dancing merrily with creatures galore,
Of red, orange, blue, yellow and white.
Good and bad speaks to the place of this blaze,
That teases and taunts forgiving air.
But with an occasional flick of my lighter,
I just love to involve my mesmerising stare!
Tender is your age,
I must be gentle
and honor your gender
and the exquisiteness
it can show and offer;
a female is feminine,
not as rough as a male,
I compare you to a lily
that has purity
depicting its whiteness
and it renders
an unmatchable
example of ingenuity!
Beautiful are your traits,
refined, noble, and gracious,
but silence makes you restless;
and I must confess
how my awareness
delights in your flairs,
never expecting perfection
even from a spontaneous phrase
who is spoken eloquently...
wouldn't I praise it,
not considering it
an intangible malaise?
It's my moral obligation
to be attentive and protect always
your precious innocence
not tolerated by insolence
and from the constant harm
of heartless monsters
who easily bend a fragile will,
who defile a defenseless body
and also an unyielding soul:
a single bruise immediately
will sound the alarm...
and fling away my fury
with a glance of repudiation!
Tender is your age,
and innocent are your ways;
much you will learn from life
imitating who has lived enough to guide
your steps and make you victorious...
laugh hysterically amid the battles of rage!