Long Fleshed Poems
Long Fleshed Poems. Below are the most popular long Fleshed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fleshed poems by poem length and keyword.
JAR OF LIFE....??
Like the thighs of a fresh virgin
The softness of your lips embraced my origin
You contralto voice like the echoes of the Moon filled the room to the brim
Each thrust into your thirty-two made my heart sound gbim! Gbim!! Gbim!!!
The awesomeness of your salivary gland
Like the pool of a wet nurse baptized my origin
Blessed is the angel that carved thy cheeks
More blessed is he that carved thy firm-fleshed riped fruits
In them my soul is buried
It is the sight of them that motivates my inner man
Watching you rise like the mother of dragons
Sent a wave of pleasure down the tails of my drogon
At that point did I say to myself...
If I perish, I perish
Indeed deep within your warmness truly I perished
The welcoming and opening ceremony of your sleekness
Succulence of your inner estate
Your solemn contralto voice of many notes
All worked together for the good of my adventure
In the business of your satisfaction
I was busy making profits till I felt the last drop of my last seed
Into your JAR OF LIFE...
©ABSOL
????????
FREE DREAMS, EXPENSIVE HUSTLES
HUSTLE: the power to hold dreams by the throttle
And run individual race like a hurdle.
DREAMS: You see her in abstraction, form-fleshed,
Holds the power to set the real you unleashed.
HUSTLE: He's your companion to the dreamland,
It demystifies obscurity & what you can't withstand.
DREAMS: the currency of the rich and famous,
the lingual franca of the poor and ignoramus.
Irrespective of economy, the DREAM is free,
the HUSTLE is sold separately & answers not to plea.
DREAM big but spend the HUSTLE currency well enough.
Big dreams are what big hustles are made of.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright© 28th October, 2022.
Community starts here
Under this tree of sprawling branches
With thighs pressed against sinuous gnarled roots,
Our heads nodding and shaking with whurring yellow leaves
Adorning our heads and fluttering off into the river beside us,
Only to stick to the dipping twigs of the tree in such cool August air,
Such a smoky light, community will start right here.
Community starts here
In this small over-crowded coffee shop,
with faces in late morning glow, as old friends reunite to
the clang of dishes and the sliding of porcelain
On faux-mahogany, elbow-elbow expressions brighten
from the whiteness of day: "I got a copy of my documentary on DVD
In my car that I can give you, if you like?"
"Oh really, well, okay..." This is the post-Sunday Mass air
Where light and love swirl as opportunity and re-emergence
And everything feels as natural as a breeze, with the fluttering of
Newsletters, roommates wanted ads, yoga lessons, and announcement
That a new spoken Word artist is arriving in town who's blind but has a dog and took the
bus from Ohio and reads his words like honey for angels,
This is where community starts.
Community starts here
On the playground of a hundred tumbling children
Screaming, tugging, jumping, laughing, crying, and dreaming.
Slow this time down and imagine them all 30-years-old with suits
And private thoughts and caged feelings and fully-fleshed with the
Citizen's kinetic energy to do right and wrong, good and bad,
Picture them as you, then picture how you're reflected in their eyes like
Revolving suns with times for dinner, and now flash back to the monkey bars,
Back to the open-souled shining young stars, here on their battleground,
in this galaxy of fun and terror our community finds it seedlings.
From the cafe to the riverbank,
From the playground to the People's Court of Whatever You Can Think Up,
Community starts everywhere,
Everywhere,
But my bathroom.
Mushroom soft bed hears lines we read aloud
Shapely verse rhythms arc like trailing waves
Goose-fleshed words uttered, pillow talk endowed
Teasing us closer, haze of misbehave
Silver dark night, perishable, shapes love
Rhythmic movement, a glow in your round eyes
A furtive look of courtship, passion's dove
Beguiling smile, pulled harp string of loose sighs
Arms like branches wrap 'round our oasis
To set free the bending tree bark, lonely
Whispered covert charm that shifts our basis
Desire's loyal touch that smites us slowly
To kiss skin cupped about in furrows
Till summer's dawn shakes us on the 'morrow
Sonnet composed: May 19, 2021
(In Memorium:
For Modern Singapore's
Founding Father,
Mr Lee Kuan Yew, RIP)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
See that body politic
In visionary brave tact;
See that action dynamic
In lovely outcome life facts.
A man of vision lived here
With a fierce, bold loyalty;
A man of passion most dear
Who forged purpose profoundly.
Once in a hundred years we
Are lucky to witness grand;
Once in a vital way see
A soul who fleshed our good ends.
The Singapore way today
Was crafted by bold daring;
The modern city state pays
A tribute to great forging.
Our once upon a time here
Is lived through the humble man;
The life we live now endears
All races to a clear trend.
As a mark of gratitude,
We the people honour you;
For forging faith attitude:
"Thank you Mister Lee Kuan Yew."
Your days upon this good earth
Are over now -- Rest In Peace;
We mourn yet feel a warm mirth:
Your Singapore blooms kind ease.
Leon Enriquez
23 March 2015
Singapore
Yes…feel me, temper my insanity,
hold my fleshed passion as I connect
with an audience to share how a night
devours monsters at the seams.
And yet, this refrain loses as the final poll
excludes my name. Why so? My lenses
run up and down the fourth time; my breath
skips : but the multitude of acclaim
from my readers inhabit my soul,
allowing me to shower my ink
with deeper hues as my inner congas
beat for another round of adventure;
this time more assured that by nourishing
my own desire to regard the heart's compass
first and foremost is what matters..
as always.
...............
Jerry T Curtis' Contest
12/30/2014
Haunted House was built on cemetery grounds
Completed at a time before the aliens in white arrived
Cold fleshed, green teethed, in gray seasons grip
Beneath the rocks in molded soil hidden
Bones lifted in a dig disfigured
More dead than alive, lost souls vacated
The spade laid down for a seconds spell
With crusted man along the dirty rock
To take a breath and gaze into the void
Sweat serene, glistening, dripping from the brow
Elongated fractured skulls rest settled
Reveal nothing to the nothing new
A grave robbers truth comes with uninvited guests
Moved in unannounced uncounted under haunted house
Under a blood drained moon anemic to the touch
Giant trees shrouded, doomed, draped in black
Fog hides dark sins, cast dim images, shed in mystery
Surmise a death spiral rising from the grave
Comes calling along the last crusted leaves revealed
Dried, turned brown, died, dead on the boughs
Hung over the inevitable advance of age
Blown hollow now on Winters wind deceased
Clouds gather at the ripe time harvested
Watch gouged out eyes inflicted by angry aliens
Nails sharp, metallic claws, ripping at the throat
Scratching at the vacant skies half maddening
Exposing a complex skeletal system poisoned
A cobwebbed network of limp branched bones
That fill in the nightmares shared by strangers
Fall collapsed, civilization followed, laughed
Cemetery house claims an ugly infestation
Aliens, lost souls, elongated skulls remain
Quiet, serene, for the time being
Visitors tongues are silenced
Cut out with a smile, glistening white
Poem created on 9/28/2016 for "Scare Me Good" Poetry Contest
“Why do I always try and fly Puddin’?
Still somethin’ feels like it’s pullin’.
Weapons, poison, I’ll go grab my mallet
dangerous bombshell come and get it!”
“I love you, Pumpkin Pie, get me out of jail,
I’ll send them a calling card in the mail.”
They went over such a flawless scam,
Joker and his protege’ the Harley Quinn;
Every idea a bit more convoluted,
they just want the guards executed;
Surrounded by doctors and locked doors,
eyes on destruction and a stolen car;
“I’ll just go make a couple of pipe bombs
Not to worry Mr. J soon we will be gone.“
“If we get separated just get kiting,
There won’t be a need for classless fighting.
All the pandemonium in the halls,
they won’t be able to watch us all.”
‘A simple goal for her.’ Joker thought,
Harley has been so perfectly taught;
The dance of the Arkham Asylum,
the condemnation of a dirty slum;
Psycho with a woman on her knees,
Bent psychiatrist she can steal the keys;
“Puddin’ can you imagine the frenzy?
They always seem to underestimate me.”
Joker looked at her “It will be fine,
they won’t see it coming this time.”
As they sat in closed session,
they fleshed out the coming deception;
Parted ways with smiles so bright,
saw freedom and fell asleep that night;
Delusions rose with the morning Sun,
they can’t stop until their mission is done;
Harley and the patient right on time,
handed Joker the keys turned on a dime;
Quietly he sat regarding their plot,
waiting to hear Harley’s first gunshot;
Hopped up with a laugh began to sprint,
monitoring the halls ever vigilant;
Found Harley heard the sound of the alarm,
Headed to the car running arm and arm;
Berserk Harley and Joker fit like a glove,
Happily ever after in psychotic love.
I saw evil last night,
evil in the form of a sweet fleshed beauty,
evil in the form of sparkling eyes,
with the fork of serpent’s tongue.
I saw evil, perhaps, not in its entirety;
as with goodness, evil is an abundant
and all consuming well.
So young, so stained by herself and others,
this child daily sought the flame,
stealing from anyone, anything; she could.
From the fragile, translucent, moth
to kitten’s lick, she enticed beyond bounds.
Her beauty narcotic, evil bathed in jasmine,
giving kisses to gain access to her drug of choice.
Failure’s false excuses acts dispensing sexual pleasures;
luring with ribald sensation with filthy lucre.
Flames leapt from the eyes of the sweetest face,
recalling the pill vials abundance and place;
recalling the ease of reach.
Her thrusting tongue-tip, licked and leapt.
at the drooled corners of her strawberry-pink lips.
The lips she would let his aged, sick, body, kiss,
all for the high, his legal drugs would bring.
She stay. She’d give him everything—
He didn't pay in money, surely, there was no crime?
So near death, he’d pray.
“Lord God please heal me.” He’d say.
She’d smile and the horned corners of her lips would rise.
He’d seek life’s affirmation between her thighs.
She’d stay—until he died.
"50 Words for Poe: Cerberus"
COME, Golden my night
Aristaeus thy husbandry
from the cracked honeycomb
of my broken broken
sleeps my dream
warm and tasted sweet
a token
Goddess
Apiarist
COME, walk in the immortal
of my heart where
bees grow from split carcass
bleeding life a New to drink from
in your hands my
body becomes a
territory strong
standing firm
conquered yet not defeated
COME, see the forests of my mind
where myrtle nymphs put dead Incubus to sleep
to transform his evanescence
fully fleshed into mortal adorned in robes
of royal purple, bronzed in the blaze of
Apollo’s sunset flaming
o’er my wet rain soaked bones
I pass him the Light to crown his head
dressed as King
to empower the charms
to loosen
even the hardest of the coldest
my Byzantine heart of cobalt made marble stone
COME, feel my Delilah heart beat
COME, feel my home
This for you Cerberus, most hated, standing before Hades shunned and feared so
3 heads to be tamed, become 1 heart with 1, n’ere forgotten n’ere alone,
1 to be loved
to be loved as 1
Gold in my Light becomes you dark son
Dark in my Light becomes your Gold sun
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/643bw5s_qI4
"Out of the eater, something to eat; out of the strong, something sweet"
https://youtu.be/WXU9lEaJBn4
“And after a time he returned to take her, and he turned aside to see the carcass of the lion: and, behold, there was a swarm of bees and honey in the carcass of the lion.”