Long Frivolities Poems
Long Frivolities Poems. Below are the most popular long Frivolities by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frivolities poems by poem length and keyword.
~that she saw her mother as a child lying strewn on the kitchen floor black and blue~
~that the taste does not matter only that it should be sufficient~
that what you don't know won’t hurt you
~that she’d let those who don’t know her home feel the fight stuffed in her school blouse~
~that she has fraternal half-siblings with unknown identities~
that what you don’t know won’t hurt you
~that her mother had a secret child she gave to the church~
~that I am of Welsh descent~
that what you don’t know won’t hurt you
~that she wishes to see her only son more often than the present~
~that she dreams of her youth as she had to grow up too young~
that what you don’t know won’t hurt you
~that I should only save and not indulge in frivolities~
~that she has never left her hometown’s four walls~
that what you don’t know won’t hurt you
~that in her eyes, no one will ever be good enough for her son~
~that he, like her, never got to be what he was meant to be~
I plan to provoke him, Uncle Jim said.
He did a great job too, really riled him up.
But it was no use, Frederick was totally trained.
I should know. I trained him myself.
I am up to the challenge, offered Grandpa Pete.
I did not intervene, amused as he called him names.
He picked up a stick so I shot it out of his hands with a cannon.
You always did overreact he said. He huffed into the house, mad.
My totally exasperating sister came out next to join the frivolities.
I waited until she got within a foot of Sir Frederick.
Sic Her! I screamed. Remembering all the times she had bullied me.
She was gone in seconds; just a fizzle left.
I guess that taught her not to tease a dragon
Or a sister
Out of the pot of Nature's Heritage we were created.
The taste of originality to savor, such novelty to behold.
Fearfully and wonderfully adorned with a spirit nurtured as a replica of our being.
A magnificent culture of beauty who have under-taken as a task,
In the misconception of thousand ways to keep such aesthetics alight.
Rather than lived out the beauty of our souls,
Focusing on the weightier matters, are fastened on outward frivolities.
Baked earth marked with easy simplicity and freedom from artificiality.
Rather left a congenital appearance to be remarked, remodeled and redesigned with embellishments.
Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies.
Consider the great beauty in the heart of the Queen of many Queens.
One of Esther, a fair and beautiful maid of whom the royal crown was placed upon her head.
Bore and carried upon her shoulder the pains and burdens of her people, travailed much but overcame.
Abigail, a woman of good understanding and a beautiful countenance with graciousness,
Averted the mischief wrought by Nabal her churlish husband.
Reflect on the beauty of the courage Deborah seised, serving as a judge to the Lord's people.
Fought in the face of danger as Sisera was sold into her hands.
Contemplate the amount of love Tabitha a woman full of good works and alms-deed possessed,
That even at death her folks would rather she lived again than lay helpless to death.
Ex-cogitate the excellency of the fulfillment of everlasting covenant,
The lord established through a seed from the barren womb of Sarah.
Ruminate over the determination of a virtuous Ruth,
From a low estate Mary, blessed among all women of whose seed is the king of kings.
A chew-over ambit an acquisition of a quintessential perspective.
The coldness of the time of year,
Should outshine the season’s warmth,
But along with Christmas comes,
Friends, family, singing and parties,
Greetings of good health and frivolities.
The centre of Christmas is presents,
Today in cheer they have so become,
And the nativity story can be heard,
When a bit of seriousness is needed,
To understand the saviour heeded.
Truth occurs at Christmas time,
When you decide who you want to give to,
Who you want to to share your feelings with,
And tell your intentions for the year ahead,
Your view of god, Jesus and what’s said.
After your share, you know you’ve warmed,
The hearts of many of those around you,
And energy flows from your whole being,
Because you’ve enlivened and clarified,
The weed from the light purified.
Happy the celestial spark which does not blossom in an impure body corrupted by the vanities of this World.
It remains pure and luminous, escaping defilements and harmful influences, which can tarnish the vital essence of any human being.
Her flame shines brightly, radiating goodness, wisdom and love around her.
Like a precious jewel, it remains connected to the universe.
She stays true to her inner nature, ignoring the fleeting temptations and frivolities of the material world.
She is like a twinkling star in the dark, guiding those who seek truth and inner peace.
Her selfless love and unconditional compassion transform people's hearts and make them realize the beauty of simplicity and authenticity.
She knows her journey is one of constant learning and spiritual evolution, and she embraces each moment with gratitude and humility.
happy is the conscience that refuses to merge into the darkness of ignorance,
She remains eternally alive in the memory of those whom she touched with her grace and her discernment.
Its lights pierce the borders of time,
Inspiring damaged souls and illuminating enlightened minds, even after his passing.
She guides the lost and the afflicted to the fountains of truth.
His benevolent presence leaves indelible marks,
On those who crossed his path,
She seeks neither glory nor recognition in this dimension,
His happiness lies in harmony, peace and detachment.
Trials do not frighten him,
She knows they're part of the journey,
Each catastrophe represents for her, a chance to accelerate the release of the potential of whoever is her host.
She uses the chaos of adversity to absorb energy from the gloomy whirlwinds of fate she controls.
Years down the road we will be known as flappers
In 1929 we are known as outrageous open hussies
Shunned by the church-y women, loved by the nightclub crowd
We are to be feared and adored, yin and yang, laugh at our frivolities.
Play girls, fun-lovers, life enthusiasts, dancers, singers, swingers.
We giggle and jiggle our way into your hearts, or out of them.
Depending on how deeply indoctrinated you want to be.
Mesmerizing some, scaring your wives and girlfriends.
We have bobbed our hair, shortened our skirts, and we have sass.
We are tired of the hum drum staidness of life, we are ready for action
Retaining our youth; yet you are keeping daughters and molls from us.
We live our truth, reminding daisies to be themselves and shine.
They told you a lie
It is said money is not important but love is Balderdash! when you are old you need money as never before,
your house is falling down and you can`t do anything about it because you are too poor to get a builder.
Sitting on a settee hand in hand watching dripping, dank walls while watching a white & black TV fluming in a dank corner,
and you will regret money spent on frivolities when young
And lacking the talent needed to make money when you could and never mind about
the memory of women you loved most of them got on married rich, powerful men who died and left them with money
enough to paint the house and fix those pesky water leaks
Alison completed the triathlon in Rio,
With Hazel Smith, her guide athlete,
‘Cos she’s visually impaired, not solo,
And so needs Hazel to see the beat.
She comes from Dunfermline, Scotland,
Hazel comes from Edinburgh, capital,
She loves to sing whilst a cooking hand,
And worked as a physiotherapist vital.
She wanted to be a runner, but injuries,
Prevented this, so she took up triathlon,
With her friends’ persuasion, frivolities,
In 2014 it quickly became her profession.
Alison collected the bronze in Kitzbühel,
Austria, at the ETU European Champs,
And still in that year, 2014, a gold bushel,
In Edmonton at the ITU World Champs.
2015, and Alison struck pure gold again,
At the ETU European Champs, Geneva,
And then at the Chicago ITU World den,
She took for the two of ‘em another silver.
2016 and the ITU Worlds in Rotterdam,
The Netherlands, and Alison won gold;
She trains in Loughborough’s stadium,
And was born in 1987 as eighties bold.
I don't wear glasses in shades of rosy pink
and I don't believe that fairytales come true.
But when I dip love's pen into indigo ink
I create the man I desire. Could he be you?
I sketch with words, the traits I most admire,
Honesty, loyalty, with a dash of quirky sense.
Give me a soft sweet kiss, set my soul afire
Converse with me with lucidity, intelligence.
I'll be at your side, your warrior princess,
riding into adventures with my Sir Galahad.
I offer romance, roses, and feminine bless
dressed in lace, I'll be sweet Victorian clad.
I'll loose my hair beneath the silver moon;
lean in soft against your masculine chest.
Come hither, do not fear the windy dunes
They'll soon abate once passion has its rest.
I don't wear glasses in shades of rosy pink
but I do love quills, in softly colored ink.
If there's a chance you have such knightly qualities,
Would you be interested in sharing life's frivolities?
~A collaboration of Mystic Rose and Lin Lane~
December 15th 2015
Thank you so much, my sweet talented, Vienna,
for your romantic visions and soft shades of ink.
Whatever next, Whatever next.
They no longer feed babies from the breast
No longer need a mum or dad
Churn them out with a hollowed rod
Saving mankind, so they say
Or altering nature in a little.
Whatever next, whatever next
You dare not preach
You dare not protest
Big brother watches from the sky
Action replayed, you dare not lie.
Whatever next, whatever next
Carrying out neutron and atomic test
Duplicity of aim to natures call
Compounding wisdom
On the exterminators wall
If this is justice ,where would liberty be?
When we are caught up in a madness
Which will not set the spirit free
Whatever next, whatever next
Robotics, automation, space flight
Intergalactic enquiries, oblivious to the reality
Of man-made frivolities
While the eyes are looking to the heavens
Looses sight of the green grass
That has grown between the feet
In the dew of the night,
Embracing nature, giving life
Whatever next, whatever next
Humanity at war,
Poor people under duress
Some people starve
While others, belly burst.
Not a figment of my imagination
While in god we trust
Whatever next , whatever next
Outer cosmos sky-gazing
While others take flight
In desperate searches,
only to succeed with washed up hopes
On yonder sea shores and desolate beaches