Long Flesh Poems
Long Flesh Poems. Below are the most popular long Flesh by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flesh poems by poem length and keyword.
It is when we are most vulnerable that we have love come to us!
It ends up being a quagmire of emotions to calm a savage breast!
A calmness of proportions that are well endowed to bring our emotions into a bus!
Maybe it’s a best of comfort that causes the heart to beat calmy in comfort to the chosen one’s breast!
Big or small they offer the comforts of Proverbs number 5!
The rib protects the vital organs of the body!
Let it be that this calmness causes us to become alive!
It is the only safeguard to our heart that cannot belong to anybody!
Kiss me with love that is overwhelming as if I was drunk!
Only my rib can make me weak as it is the longing for this one flesh!
Because my heart feels like that of a person that is the metaphorical punk!
You are the part of me that is more than a mesh!
My love may be distant
But my heart is not distant
A thousand needles
with sharp shining points
cutting harshly in
tender soft flesh
burning hot needles
searing as they go
piercing deeper in
with every painful step
ripping caring agony
muscles ripping apart
in agony collapsing
on ground so very hard
weakly grasping lifting
strength and vigor gone
lifting climbing upward
unsteady standing barely
burning hot pain searing
piercing through tender joints
gasping sharp inhaling
bright shining tears appear
foolish belief blooming
desperate hope within
somehow just imagining
none is actually real
Insane self deceiving
imagined feelings are
unknown reasons fulfilling
unreal everything is
To my brother, from another mother,
I write from here, beyond the horizon...
That life is strange for everyone.
A ball of soft thread, without purpose.
We are what we all are.
Some machines that walk without wheels,
Sparking flames that burn each one,
One single road and no other way.
The asphalt and the hard gravel of life
Are tearing flesh from our whole body.
And with each sunrise and sunset
We become smaller, and it starts to hurt.
We greet each other, crying at the crosses,
And bid each other farewell at stops.
Then, we leave our places to other generations,
For in the race of life, in the end, we die.
Originating, like crystal drops, from Gaumukh glaciers,
Colorless, like frank-innocence, later, gleams and glitters;
Mingled with Bhagirathi; melt in Alaknanda, great,
Flows flawlessly as though baiting and defeating the fate...
Vishnu, the supreme, in his dwarf Brahman incarnation,
Took two steps, myths say, with an absolute confirmation;
To cross the universe; when treading the stern step second,
World got holed; thence, Ganges, heavenly-goddess, did descend...
===
Quencher of thirst! Giver of life! Meal of mind and body!
Oxygen source! Coolant of flesh, and blood! Antibody!
Haven of water creatures! Guard of great agriculture!
Source and strength of Mohenjo-daro, Harappan culture!
Greatness of Hindu traditions! Zenith of Hindu faith!
Place of pilgrimage! Entrance to the heavens after death!
Symbol of faith, hope, civilization and mental health!
Absolution of misdemeanors! Harbinger of health...!
===
When I see the Ghats, yet, where dead are burnt in Holy pyres,
Half-burnt bodies eaten by dogs and eagles and vultures;
Like half-fry meat, munched, then, by carps, mullets, and catfishes,
Rest swept away to seas as though fulfilling last wishes...
Abandoned bodies, like sharks, during pandemic, floated,
Not one, two but tens and hundred; as though river flooded;
Though life-taker, the Ganges, is like mother, life-giver,
River named, most holy, on earth, is, perhaps, no other...!
17 December 2021
—Prithee, Beloved, Tarry Yet Awhile—
Lo! from the crypts where buried hours conspire,
the past came flooding with a nameless force,
and pulverised the dreams of obsidian fire
I bore within my eyes along their course;
yet thee, beloved, whom those dreams enclosed,
the ruin could not wholly discompose.
A childhood afternoon returned entire—
dust silvering a bicycle's worn chain,
the iron scent that follows sudden rain,
a whistle thinning through the telegraph wire;
such trifles, entombed beneath the years,
rose armed with teeth and drank my inward tears.
Then memory unsealed its subterranean sea:
old names, old faces, departures without graves,
a schoolbell striking through the dusk at me,
the smell of wet earth from forgotten days;
each recollection smote the inward glass
and drove another century through the past.
Prithee, beloved, tarry yet awhile;
I carry thee where dream and vision meet.
Touch not the fragments glittering round thy smile;
their edges have grown treacherously acute.
I know not which small splinter shelters thee,
nor which has learnt the shape of wounding me.
Let me stoop slowly through this inward wreck
and lift each broken heaven from its place;
for some shards still retain the vanished speck
of dawn that once inhabited thy face.
One enters flesh; another enters thought—
I bear thy vision where the wound becomes an eye.
Then, without wind, the splinters turned to rain;
the dead stars climbed the wounds they once had made,
and every wound became a seeing vein;
the heavens broke, yet nothing fell or stayed.
I touched the glass—and understood at last:
the shard was not the thing the years had cast.
So tarry. Let me finish what I must,
lest memory's bright wreck should enter thee;
I shall remove the fragments, not the dust
of all the years that taught my eyes to see.
And when the final shard lies still apart,
I shall not seek thee. Thou wilt be the sight.
Oh Jan of mine
Allison of poetic wonderland
She of humorous funny bone
You make me smile
You make me laugh
Perk me up when i am down
Comment all the time 1 of
sometimes only 1
Yet better valued your 1 is to i
as far more meaningful it is to i
As friends we are i hope for
keeps as over time our bond
has grown
And though as face to face
and in the flesh
We may never have met and
probably never will or are
destined to meet
I'll lend you my pen and ear
any time as you have lent me yours
Me Casa , Tu Casa
Me Paper
You Pen
Brummie Manx Golden Girl
Victoria Wood incarnate
As Eve from Adam came, so I from thee;
I, flesh of your flesh, bone of your bone,
of all creation made to be your own,
soul of your very soul eternally.
We are joined by bonds of love, I and thee,
bonds which hold me close to you though alone.
I am engraved upon your heart; and stone,
by chisel and by hammer hewn, indeed,
could not hold my name as surely as thine
heart does. Though wild the winds of time may beat,
your love shall prove my birth, how truly thine
I am. Storm fade stones and thus defeat
the purpose of their words, but line on line,
my soul from yours none can ever delete.
Copyright, 1987
Faye Lanham Gibson
He walked along the beach a man forlorn
Forgotten were his dreams, his heart was torn
The gentle waves spoke of the years gone by
And drew salt water down from saddened eye
He saw some driftwood lying on the shore
It sparked his interest and he longed for more
He touched it gently, to his great delight
Sandalwood he’d found: passion to ignite
The need to carve once more came to his mind
A joy he’d lost and could no longer find
He took it home, that battered piece of wood
With hopes to turn it into something good
A mane of hair took shape beneath his hands
Flowing waves of curly wooden strands
Round shoulders of the woman of his dreams
And breasts and waist of beauty carved supreme
Gracefully her form began to take on shape
When he was done he stood there mouth agape
She was a goddess made of his desire
A love for her consumed him like a fire
At night he wished upon a falling star
She’d come to life and chase his sorrows far
He looked at her before he fell asleep
And smiled for he’d forgotten how to weep
He felt a stirring there beside his bed
A presence seemed to hover near his head
He looked upon his statue now in flesh
Her body like a breeze was young and fresh
She pressed her lips so gently over his
“I need to tell you, love, listen to this
I was discarded, battered, wounded sore
I chose to be a part of life no more
You saw in me my hidden beauty fine
Your wish has reached the heart of the Divine
I stand before you, answer to your prayer
Sent to give you love and tend’rest care.”
She kissed his lips, and veiled him in her hair
His tears she wiped, this answer to his prayer
With him she lay, her breast his pillow sweet
The richest fare of sandalwood, his treat
What else transpires is curtained from our sight
Burning sandalwood…..scents the glowing night
Eileen Manassian Ghali
beaming bleached grins of ivory predation
touching the tip of the steel heart severing love
eyeless lipless and formless feeling all life
forms wrinkled impulses warring like sexes
seeking paradise in the white exhalation of death
expanding minutes into eons of shadows feeding
cells populating the flesh of living loaves rising
being passed from mouth to grave nourishing reflections
deforming the scroll of experience scrawling live evil
…the wedded heretic
…time makes the law tick
…twitches of revolution stagnate
…in bacteria infested charters
seek the door—wider than the sky—hallowed candles sing darkened dreams…
Greek fornicators plunder Christ’s scream
within the gray clouds of Golgotha
sail the trembling ghosts…
Seeds are sown; seeds will grow
into a weed, into a rose
millennium passes into black holes
the sand will turn into glass
bones into dust-flesh into ash
eventually everything
blows back to the path back home.
There're no grand mysteries
only infinite, undiscovered truths
into the virgin soil of purity-[absolute]
miracles suckle from gravity's root.
The ego often forsakes the creator God
careens into the blackness -alone
the sirens howl from the abyss
when angels bow to laws unknown.
Only when it is lost- only when it slips
does the ego bend a knee and cry for home.
Seeds are sown; seeds grow
into a weed- into a rose
everything comes into its own being
the destiny of flesh is the soul's release
all will boomerang back home-infinity.