Long Gloomily Poems
Long Gloomily Poems. Below are the most popular long Gloomily by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gloomily poems by poem length and keyword.
She slipped clumsily in a
café
Looked all around her
from the corner of her
eye
Felt all eyes upon her
Bit her lip
and flushed crimson
disconcertedly.
He was sacked, literally
fired
Got down in the dumps
Was down and out
and was left feeling blue
so gloomily.
He gave her a blossomed
rose
Blood rushed to her
cheeks
She blushed a deep red
so joyously.
She watched her rival
from afar
Summed up her
envy in reflex
and she turned green
jealously.
It looked hale and hearty
Ooh the cherubic chubby
cheeks
Baby looked in the pink
as it babbled away
innocently.
She heard of a loved
one's demise.
That was a shock indeed
She went white as a
sheet
as she then wept so
woefully.
She saw a teeny-weeny
spider on her skirts
Talk of arachnids and
phobias, yikes!
She turned a pale yellow
in fright
as she screamed fearfully.
He found his sweetheart
in another man's arms
Doubted his own charms
and his face went purple
with rage
almost immediately.
He faced his lifelong
enemy
Hate brimmed up in him
as his bitterness found a
vent
He shot him a black glare
most scornfully
well well, it might seem
that the worst of all the
human hues
are the melancholic
depressing blues
But I think being green
for jealousy
and the black of hate
top the list in deserving
poohs.
Mind you these human
pigmentation of emotion
are a matter of reflex
for you can't choose
which of the human hues
you'd like to wear, on
party day
and which you'd rather
not use.
A face of age, a septuagenarian that magically reverts to my twenties when I turn away from the mirror.
My hair of silver does what it pleases to cover my face. I can't move one side of my face, a condition they call Bell's Palsy. Flirty, half fallen, silky gray hair that helps me cover the one side. My forehead smooths out from the left and slight creases on the right. My eyebrows are small; a student describing them like commas.
When I was younger, my large brown eyes and long dark lashes were the focal point of my face.
As the years moved on, erosion has chosen to leave me with bloodshot eyes; one normal the other droopy and dry as the sands of the Sahara Desert whether from the constant irritation or the countless sleepless night.
I've always had a round face with freckles and a small turned-up nose that is a beacon of shine if it's not powdered. I am very fortunate, I have no wrinkles around my eyes, but two smile lines that crinkle on either side of my nose.
My lips are not like a lot of women, plump, I inherited my father's small thin lips. As a teen, I would gloomily glare in the mirror hating the way they looked. My teeth are not quite perfect, but I might remind you of a chipmunk. They're not noticeable since I am not able to smile. If I don't, I look very normal, but a look of scowling.
A face of age yet beautiful.
12/26/2019
Poetry Contest: The Metaphor Of Your Face
Sponsored BY: John Lawless
Oh ,what a terrible tragedy it was! He murdered the complete chickens brutally. Webcam showed the horrible scene cause. I was shocked by his act of gloomily
He was only bitten the venomous reptile But the story of disaster was different here Planned to kill the killer of vile Nice nylon net was covered the cage clear
Pungent odour had come from the decayed chicken. I thought that it would tempt the beast. Had the hope to catch him quicken
He was seized in the strong net in twist
His audacious attack ended in failure. He couldn't be triumphant in the tireless endeavour He was avoided encounters for my favour.
His intelligent behaviour attracted me however
I recalled Rudyard Kipling's story Rikki-Tikki-Tavi.
The wild animal symbolised fearlessness and rebellion. It was the vehicle of the god of wealth maybe. I hesitated to kill the social animal of the civilian.
Decided to free him from the strongest web.
Then he went on the path and disappeared. Though it was a superstitious act of rapid step , I believed his path would bring good luck neared.
Argh resolution between
self and eldest
dear daughter more remote,
now then locating
a left handed monkey wrench,
cuz she feels this papa
did deliberate smote
her upside the head, knocking
Eden Liat stone cold
in an abysmal trench
thus, this dada doth fear a mill
stone shaped albatross
around thy neck aye will tote,
where rotting bird
doth emit fetid oppressive stench
gloomily decry death asper,
paternal progeny blighted love
epitaph finis fate wrote.
Methinks (nee knows) marital infidelity
steep dividend warrant wrought
chances greater finding needle in haystack
versus pointless thought
exercise regarding deus ex machina sought
forgiveness ex post facto, rethought,
yet miracle needed, viz
twill require against overwrought
progeny's psyche mor'n
solo requiem Te Deum never sung,
hence no guarantee
father as overthought
against embarkation entailing,
nor divine chorus baptizing can nought
assuage besotted dada's flesh, handwrought
hence fiery eternal damnation
no gunsmoke match e'en gunfought
by Jesse James, no penitence
bequeathed only dreadnought
visa vis admitting how affair
kneaded joyus kindling brought
philandering husband discovered
emotional refuge (against spousal
epithet strewn expletive language,
whence mistress besought
similar sexual satisfaction,
and subsequent fallout an afterthought.
retrospective reflection stills nothing
more serious then slap on the wrist
while engaged (~ January 2010) with
nothing sinful 'bout peccadillo tryst
understandable wife got sorely pissed
on the sly behaviour the missus
blindsided, hence over
looked and missed
and figurative wedge
cleft asunder nearly kissed
our marriage goodbye
extra-marital romp illicit,
though we nearly came to fist
sta cuffs, where salty crude name calling
in conjunction with execrable
derogatory cussing contribution complicit.
I have a picture of a barren land,
a moldy tree devoid of fruit and leaves.
Above the moon amid clouds rise gloomily
as no rays reaches the muddy land.
Look behind the tree, you'll see me there.
An evil stench carried on the night breeze,
sounds of horror coming from the dead
as clouds hide even the small consolation
of the rising full moon, yellow and bane.
Virulence rules, malevolence masters.
The breeze turns into a whipping wind
moans of ghouls and demons uncouth,
peace and common sense buried in the mud.
A cat named Satan walks up to a tree,
Scaly, sallow skin, corrugated and cold
evil eyes, oozing blood, look balefully at me.
Yet I am strong, I never give in.
I fought the inner demon and I won.
Tribulations come our way,
Temptations come, temptations go
for God will always care for me.
Twas darkness upon the quietly residing heath...
And deathly was the sullen red sandstone tower...
Standing gloomily inside the masons dry-stone walls
Amidst toppling granite slabs and the faded, wilting flower.
Solemn was the chime of the hollow, mournful bell
When tolling out on midnights grimly sombre hour;
And thinly the swirling, unearthly mist
Did so wend abouts her silent, melancholic bower.
Where from a fronded yew of venerable years,
Besides ancient trunks of ivy-entwined gnarly oak,
A chilling screech from a sudden ghostly apparition...
Summoning upon waking resident souls - did thus invoke!
For pale his form in soft white downy flight...
But none paler than that of me...
As across from the stream, held by an unblinking stare -
My shaky fears are transfixed so unnervingly!
Oh wise old feathered sage of long owl-lived age,
Unctuous incumbent of learned perch within black night,
Allow this the moment to calm my pounding heart...
And catch upon my fleeing thoughts - after such a wicked fright!!
Needing desperately my time on the porch
The cloudy days have gloomily encroached
Upon my emotions so that I could cry the tears
Equal to the rain that is pouring down around
The sun has already risen
Hidden behind dark gray
Blanketed clouds weeping
Moisture on all the ground
The only gold to be seen
Is the golden Helianthus Maximilianii
Prairie Sunflower that blooms
It definitely has to be the sun
On a day like today
The trees are holding
So much moisture
That the leaves weep
Onto the saturated ground
Is God weeping
Over the whole world
From his throne
In the third heaven above
So much is wrong
Moral decay
People lost for what
Life is all about
People feeling that
There is no hope
That all is lost
Financial ruin for many
The rooster still crows
And the crows are
Crawing from a different
Locality far away
There are dogs
Barking down
Across the creek
Where the fighting roosters stay
Like there is something
Wrong down there
Maybe a hungry Bobcat
Or wild dog herd
Responsibility calls
Need to go and leave
The peace and comfort
Come down from the mountain
Form:
Mango season, for us, is a celebration,
Our eyes are on enthusiastic elation;
In sunlight, they shine in golden green,
We children gather to witness the scene;
Though we have our mangroves,
Neighbor’s is tastier; reason none knows;
As throwing stones at them prohibited,
And plucking these get us exhibited;
We wait for some good crow or parrot,
To push one for us as though some merit;
Bird-pecked mangoes seem tastier,
‘They’re God’s graces’, some whisper;
When one eats others seem to salivate,
To bite the bitten one, for our turn we wait;
Stealing mangoes is a childhood fun,
The owner’s dog chases us and we run;
The owner joins his dog and leaps,
Though within him childhood peeps;
Mangoes hundreds we may have at home,
Yet, each stolen one is a diamond dome;
Once the season goes we get gloomily shut,
Like the squirrel that loses the mango-nut;
Our dreams we cherish golden mangoes,
Sucking them merrily we dance tangos;
Though not thieves, we do good stealing,
Guavas and mangoes with no guilt feeling;
If you too have been doing so please tell us,
If what we have done is sin, kindly forgive us!
14 June 2021
The length of the sky
has no set limit,
allow me to take you
to the infinite...
to the endless blue!
Soon after the gleams
if the awaited dawn,
I wake up and find you near me;
my hands touch you softly
with gentleness,
such mornings should be
the happiest ones
for anyone feeling down
who eases his mind
by calling forth pleasing
thoughts and wouldn't lose
touch of seeing
them around...
when he looks
at sadness gloomily!
The length of the sky
has no set limit,
allow me to take you
to the infinite,
to the endless blue!
Soon after the present
tore apart the past, now bygone,
delightful days and warm nights
await us so eager to know
the pleasant satisfaction
and to reconsider the lost happiness!
The length of the sky
inspire us of being free,
if reaching the destination
if that unknown somewhere hidden
from us, that try to measure
the length of the sky!
Let's spend a minute in contemplation,
let's not test his greatness,
because in our observation
we may find ourselves speechless
facing the mysterious sky
that can't keep secrets from us!
The length of the sky
has no set limit,
allow me to take you
to the infinite...
to the endless blue!
alone, forlorn, lonely
with a heart darkened by sorrows
I felt my thoughts become like arrows
Piercing through my lost happiness
Lost and abandoned by pleasure
My feelings were like tears falling
On the heart that beat gloomily within
Reminding me that I was haunted
By failures, faults and flaws
Desolation weakened my hopes
shouted through the silence in despair
making me aware that I was without a chance
of finding the answers to soothe away my pain
Vanished were the dreams that breathed light
Into the blackness of a mournful night
Leaving only tragedy in hues of silvery gray
And feelings of solemn grief to give me the chance
To know that my dreams didn’t have the grace
To discover the brilliance found when fate
Brings the feathery sight of butterfly delight
Alone, forlorn, lonely
With a heart darkened by sorrows
I felt my thoughts become like arrows
Piercing through my happiness
Until love burst through, like starry flames
Filling up my soul with joyous rays
From the sensations that happen when someone prays
And a heart is lifted from the shadows
Taken into the light that melts away the blackness
And colors the entire heart in crimson praises
For the One who knows that love
Can relieve any dread that comes
With a sense of the peace of God
Who answers prayers with the assurance
That real love is the answer to every fear
And God knows, in His wisdom, how to bring cheer!
The ultimate surprise comes alive
When, finally, I see God’s light!
Surprise Me Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina
June 21, 2021