Long Flavors Poems

Long Flavors Poems. Below are the most popular long Flavors by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flavors poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Mama's Blackberry Pies

Apples, cherries, lemons, pears, and peaches.
Perhaps I missed a tree fruit or two, but my
point is that all the above comes from trees.                                           Pecan is not a fruit, but it is a part of the list                                               of pies that my dear mother used to bake.

For my taste, no one made better pies than mom.
And one of my favorite pies was the 'blackberry pie'.
Obtaining blackberries required a lot more work, and
it could be dangerous because of snakes hidden in the
bushes and weeds, which is where we went hunting for
blackberries.

No one I ever knew was ever bitten by a snake, and I
do not remember being afraid of snakes when we went
searching for blackberries. Perhaps the anticipation of
mom's blackberry pie took all fears away. The snakes
probably heard us coming, and decided that they were                               no match for kids with blackberries on their mind.

In spite of the little tiny seeds, that deep blue color,                               
sweet sugary flavors dripping from our little lips, and                                     the thin layers of crusted dough was heaven sent                                       for kids like me, and made by a mother who knew                                    just how to bake them.  

No. My wife never learned to make blackberry pies                                    like my mom. It wasn't easy, but I forgave her.

072822PSCtest,Your Thoughts On Blackberries, Matt Caliri
Form: Narrative


Premium Member A Potpourri Chowder of Diphthongs

A symphony of spoons,
a poised poke of fork quartet prongs,
the clatter of knives
resounding, rebounding
in a chamber of diphthongs.

The boil and sizzle of oils,
crisping the chips, tempura and pakora to brown.
so biting the crust 
makes the cracks ring out loud, 
then softens to an ooze.
the slow chewing flows 
into a sing-along song,
as the tongue savors the juicy flavors.

A slice of ripe lime, bright green
a gentle, slow pour of warm wine, 
draws out two vowels to sound as one
as the mouth rounds on every morsel.

The steam sighs, rising up in spirals,
from the feast that hums and mumbles, low and strong.
Each bite a voice unfolding—
a choir of chew and tongue, sung
savoring the diphthongs
in each mouthful of potpourri chowder.

Premium Member Ah, To Comment

AH, TO COMMENT

Ah, to comment on the soup
too hot, too cold, too new, too old,
too “Hallmarkian”.

To praise – or not - their efforts,
to offer support - if not advice,
correction, critique.

To encourage – or not
the meandering meaninglessness
of the short form.

To observe – GPS like -
offering corrections
in recalculating tone.

To view, through glasses
different than those
of pen.

To voice our conviction
that poetry is
what we say it is.

Ah, to taste the soup
to sip at leisure – 
life’s spiced flavors.

To stop and smell
the roses - and the rot,
to shout “Vive la difference!”

To thank them for their words,
their poetry, their praise,
for being poets.

John G. Lawless
8/17/2014
Form: Verse

Premium Member Something New

Although retired, we'd wake up tired;
   sound, peaceful sleep, did not acquire.
We found a plan which we admire
   that makes our 'day' much more desired.

Our energy picks up at night;
   so morning hours are over-hyped.
By noon, sometimes, were feeling wiped;
   by ten pm our strength ignites.

Now something new that we have tried;
   our sleeping hours have been revised.
By two am to bed, obliged,
   and up at ten left us surprised!

We can accomplish much more now;
   our 'day' is longer, well-endowed.
And hubby with this plan is proud;
   we are in sync here at our house.

We're wide awake, as night flavors
   late movies, shows, we now savor,
or read and write past midnight hour;
    wake up mid-morn...'new' day is ours.


Sandra M. Haight

~6th Place~
Premiere Contest: Trying Something New
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Judged: 10/27/2018

Rules: Rhyme and Meter with Near Rhymes
(Lines of each stanza end with matching
 'near rhymes' per RhymeZone.com)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Autumn Symphony

Autumn arrives with nature’s kaleidoscope,
creates chromatic panorama motifs,
changing fast under the azure sky,
where wispy cloud wafts with hued lattice.

At the fringe of the fawn meadow
with grass crowned by topaz dew,
the verdant canvas of the waiting woods
gets a coat of vermillion and gold.

The depleting days of the wilting leaves
dawn with the collage of colors,
shaken by the northern wind,
from the bent branches they fall.

The gilded leaves whirl by my window,
float away to lie on the garden path.
I hear them create the rustle concert,
as the breeze sweeps them into a pile.

The crimson rays of the rising sun
shines the fallen foliage with aureate glitter,
entice me to walk on the golden path,
jumping in the pile of leaves.

I hear enchanted the sound of music,
as the leaves crunch under my feet.
The melody mingles with the whistle of wind
in the symphony of autumn’s rhapsody.

_______________

September 10, 2022
Theme chosen : Jumping in a pile of leaves
Contest : Fall Flavors
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh


Premium Member five senses -

all my senses ...

long to make sense ... of YOU
what greets my gaze is perfect imperfection
lines and curves and shapes and
colors and movements
mingled with sacred intent in sublime symmetry -
features that alone might be found disconcerting
collectively arranged in ways that
steal the steadiest of breaths
and define envy
for the gods themselves ...

then, a scent ethereal ...
weaving its quiet way into my head and blood
bewitching my mind with a rarefied air of
you and Je Reviens -
an intoxicating mix of essences, visceral
aromas that rival breezes from the
of Gardens of Babylon
and send the mind spinning ...
tumbling ...

to say your voice is music
would be doing it an extraordinary injustice
like some anointed dove from heaven
it lilts on the atmosphere
and when you press it tenderly to
my ear in wafted whispers
its voltaic song penetrates my coursings
and ignites my core
harmony and heat and will ...
aria and fire ...

I live for the feel of you ...
your skin is warm satin and silk
a catkin corporeality -
electric and responsively raw
sexy little bumps erupt at my touch
your perky bow lips -
an alluring mix of raspberries and chili peppers
and the indescribable perfection of
your hand in mine
as though your fingers were created from
the spaces between ...

and oh, your taste ...
the many flavors of you are like a
banquet of rare piquancy
your mouth a tangy, sugary bubblegum treat
dermal surfaces, savory and salty -
a tease for where they lead …
and your unique angelic nectar
like some exotic potion
created and sanctified to bind my
marrow biochemically
and render me ...
unhinged …

yes -
all my senses ...
long to make sense of YOU
yet I pray like a child that they never do
for the joy is in the journey ...
and the divine …

discovery.







~ 5th Place ~  in the "Five Senses" Poetry Contest, Viv Wigley, Judge & Sponsor.

Premium Member Farm Fresh

Gentle gratitude flavors life with heartfelt happiness ~ Quote by the Poet



The farm was thriving with cows, horses and chickens
Filling hearts with rewarding traditions
Whispers of visions sent on winds
Resonating stillness
Gentle comforts from our adoring Creator
Blessing our spirits with hope, faith and love

Soothing, intimate joy sent from the Lord above
Pleasure sent down by One who is greater
Providing dreams for tranquilness
Powerful faith reminds
Working with our hands in happiest conditions
Nurturing peace in the heart who quickens

Bringing out compassion that family thickens
Breathing gracious hues of glad ambitions
Inspiring passions of all kinds
Raising cures for illness
Pain that is healed by the greatest mediator
Who frees hearts with love that fits like a glove








A Little Memory - My Invented Form - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France 
December 26, 2020
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Both Sides

Every coin has two sides 
It's either heads or tails
 On one side your fortune may ride
 On the other your fortune fails

 A sad song on a rainy day
 And thunderstorms 'neath skies of gray
 No butterflies in my garden play
 The storm had scared them all away

 Lemonade on summer days
 And ice cream cones with flavors sway
 Then all those flavors melt away
As the fiery sun has its say

Pyramids on desert sands
 And the August moon glowing grand
Then by sand storms they're shrouded
 While the moon's obscured as clouds crowd in

Love has a sweet flavor at first taste
Then betrayal lays it all to waste
 And as your  tears  begin to  fall
 You find that you really don't know love at all
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Mlk Way Today

As we look back on the path blazed by Jr MLK. 
Seeing the progress wondering what he’d say. 
The work has begun and the game changed. 
But there’s lots more minds to be rearranged. 

People wear blinders, seeing black and white. 
Naïve to all the many shades in our plain sight. 
Fifty shades of grey shouldn’t be an S&M flick. 
It’s the mindset of the racial colors yet to stick. 

Whites are ivory, beige, tan, peach and pink. 
Blacks are brown, almond & espresso I think. 
The caucasians are rarely the color of chalk. 
Its more like the shades of your local sidewalk. 

AfricanAmericans are rarely sky at mid-night.
More like flavors of chocolate before the bite. 
We know Hispanics appear white and black. 
So it’s time to give everyone else some slack. 

We now have many options for sex on forms. 
Progressive of gender and preference norms. 
But when it comes to appearance of our skin. 
It requires the change of our mindset within. 

So the next time you look at people to decide. 
Think like an artist and set the old ways aside. 
We can change our view and cause a surprise. 
Unlike our pets, we don’t have colorblind eyes. 

If we adjust the lens we view color of skin.  
Improvement in mutual respect can begin. 
When we evolve our palette of the two races. 
USA elevates to reach MLK Jr dream spaces.
© Adam Segal  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Salt of the Earth - 1

Salt is the seasoning, the spice of life
The reason for giving out
Flavors to heal hurt
Herbs to relieve grief
Suggestions that fill minds
With hope, faith and love

Salt is the zest of giving
The tang that touches
Upon the heart’s feelings
The additive that suggests
We all need God’s healing
With the adoring light of living

Salt is the flavoring, the hint of
Hope that rises inside one
Who knows that love is there
Alive on the inside of the soul
Where the Holy Spirit lives
And guides us toward much more

Salt is the sense of truth
That beckons to our minds
Heavenly suggestions of joy
Inspiring the spirit to delight
In the wisdom of sending out
Laughter, smiles and gentleness

Salt is the aroma of tears and sunshine
The grasp of feeling inside one
Who knows that faith is alive
Providing a sense of assurance
Insight into the scriptural blessings
That thrive with pure inspiration

Salt is the touch of color pouring down
From the edge of the rainbow
From beginning to end, shades
Of pastel gentleness relieving souls
Of the sorrow, worry and fear
Sending love through that stunning arc

Salt is the essence of God’s breath
Sighing with the whisper of a caress
Gentle appreciation sent down to us
Who know that He lives and sends us
Quiet joy, hope, faith, serenity and more
To fill us up with unconditional love






Matthew 5:13 King James Version
13 Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.






Salt Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
February 25, 2021

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