Long Glossed Poems
Long Glossed Poems. Below are the most popular long Glossed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Glossed poems by poem length and keyword.
This responds to “Operation Raise the Colours,” where some have painted the St. George’s Cross across streets, roundabouts, and takeaway shops. Claimed as patriotism, these acts are vandalism and an attempt to erase community spaces and stirring division.
Red bleeds across zebra lines,
slick on high street asphalt,
smearing over takeaway shutters,
stretched across roundabouts, stubborn as lead.
Rollers scrape and flake,
pigment cheap, sunlight shakes it loose,
drips into puddles,
history seeping through plaster,
like damp under primer that never hides the past.
The streets run red and white,
paint claimed by hands insistent on marking stone, brick, asphalt—
silence made loud in streaks and drips.
Roundabouts stand proud under fresh layers.
Slash Dulux over despair—
coverage meant to hide, but failing.
Paint bleeds over more than tarmac—
onto takeaway windowpanes, footpaths, shop signs—
a mural of identity, impulse, defiance.
Undercoat logic tries to cover the past,
but no sealant ever lasts.
Brushstroke patriots,
emotion disciples,
armed with rollers like substitute rifles.
The painting’s wrap is hollow,
decorating decline as if it were fate.
Every slogan,
a stencil sprayed on the breeze.
Pigment flakes with ease,
truth showing through the layers.
Heritage red becomes eviction scarlet,
brilliant white papered over target.
Crowns drip Crown paint onto stone,
monarchs in tester pots,
empires reduced to monochrome.
Borders cut by shaky hands,
masking tape straining against the straight line of intention.
Private bleeding edges,
lines never straight.
Revolutions run off into puddles of hate,
mirroring the sky distorted,
clouds stretched, colors torn thin.
Tins are stirred, paint slapped on the ground.
Every revolution circles round,
because property cannot be glossed,
despair cannot be mapped.
Whitewashed roundabouts cannot hide the cracks.
Paint peels, drips, bleeds into puddles,
but the fissures of history remain—
veins in stone, stories in asphalt,
layers no roller can erase.
Crowns, crosses, streaks of red and white
twirl and fall like the last dance
over streets that remember,
over walls that refuse to forget.
The cracks take the floor,
silent but insistent,
and they will not be painted over.
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
Earthdate/starttime: 11/04/19 01:10:26 AM
Earthdate/endtime: 11/04/19 02:55:46 AM
Poetic snapshot regarding immediate
actual, physical, spatial... environment
pertinent, relevant, salient... yours truly
commenced within fleeting electronic
date/time stamp indicated above bereft
attempts to describe character sketch,
whereat I sit within Apartment B44:
taking immediate lock, stock & barrel
ordinary repeated situation witnessing
garden variety *****sapien imbibing
familiar scenario, while spouse sleeps
near proximity, CPAP machine regulates
continuous positive airway pressure
offsetting sleep apnea breathe more so
she can breathe free and clear preventing
airway from collapsing when she inhales.
Nothing particularly spectacular wee hour
this ordinary moment beckoned, challenged
decided... attempt to focus (laser like) sense
and sensibility without pride, nor prejudice
essentially simply worded still life repeated
predictably, & regularity glossed over other
instances finding impetus preying upon pro-
fun ditties, and expansive vocabulary unsure
communicated printed idea understandable
aware some readers disinclined wading thru
thicket (quagmire) of verbiage, hence eureka
experience to corral immediate circumstance
(think Will Rogers' 140th birthday his home
spun extemporaneous anecdotal nuggets.)
Many occasions embarking upon complexity
aspire to elaborate intricate worded webbed
(wide aye bother) complex edifice ambitious
invariably confounding unsuspecting readers
suddenly sinking within quicksand helpless
against salvation, hence painstaking effort
to asseverate downplaying sesquipedalian
rather toning down syllabification sharing
trumpeting, undulating humdrum existence
verily reporting sleeping on floor - courtesy
restless leg syndrome, which affects the mrs.
Marriage basically no match heavenly made,
nonetheless dynamic linkedin travails values
wifely attentiveness to prepare unrecognized
frying object (best described as pop slop), +
she tends other domestic chore, viz washing
soiled clothes nsync of kitchen, whiling away
(think dervish) stoking chaos within invisible
re: nearly infinitesimal speck within Milkyway.
(or) Those Summer Days With Danny
Those Sun-Filled Days With Danny
Where We Walked Along The Shore
Beside Star-Fish Strewn On The Beach
Tossed Above The Ocean's Floor ...
Where Danny Surfed The Waves
and Raced The Crested Curls
& Showed How To Ride Water-Roller-Coasters
To His First Love's (Gidget) Girl ...
With Ocean's Roar In Our Ears
and Echoes of Found Seashells
We Would Kiss & Say ... 'I Love You'
& Write It, So Sands of Time Would Tell ...
... of Summer Days With Danny
Where The Sun Became Our Clock
The Day Stood-Still & Dipped In Ponds
As Spray Dashed Upon Pier-Rocks ...
Where We Sat & Made Our Plans
of A Future For First Love
Those Sun-Filled Days With Danny
Beneath A Beach-Umbrella-Cove
In Those Days We'd Met 'Rider-Pete'
Who, Many Had Tagged 'Beach Bum'
But Pete Taught What He Lived & Loved
& Was A King When He Made Surf Runs! ...
Days of Seventeen, Picnics & Parties
Naiviette' & Swim-Wear, Nearly Nude
Showed The Glow of Beautiful Bodies
A-Glistening ... While Gleaming The Cube ...
and Falling In Love From High Altitudes
With A ... 'Raindrop On A Dam' ... Attitude
In Those Days With My Hot-Dog, Danny-Dude
Sharing Thrills of Lightning Tunnels Thru Tubes ...
With Danny & His Big Dipper
Who Was Like A Raider, Raised On Waves!
But Me On My Glass Slipper ...
Knew Which 'Big Ones' Not To Chase ...
In Those Summer Days of Beach Volleyball
Throwing Frisbees With Moon-Doggies & Girlfriends
But Our Favorite & Most Fun Hangout Was
In The Forum of 'Hanging Ten' ...
Into The Great Rolls of Sparkling Ripples
Paddling Out To Rush Riptides- Poured
When Life Was Stronger & Simple
... We Rose & Raced On Glossed Surfboards ...
To Return To Repose On Abandoned Blankets
While Watching Glorious Sunsets
In Those Summer Days With Danny
And First Love ... I'll Not Forget ...
Those Sun-Filled Days With Danny
That Season of Sweet, First-Love
of Ocean-Wave-Chariots, Riding Me ...
Like Sunshine Rides On Wings of Doves ...
... aahh ... Those Summer-Surf-Filled Days
With Danny
Written & Copyrighted © : 5/27/2014
by: MoonBee Canady
Shock waved over from a puddle to form an ocean as Jake stood taking splash after splash
of emotions that rolled him not to understand on how he should react to this rude from her
remark yet pleasant from the feel of her hands on his shoulders position.
What?
He finally said without movement, still in a slouch to keep her hands where they were for
she was small in comparison to him and wanted the warmth to linger.
Ya man!
I never seen a stuttering stanley before!
Like I mean I saw it in the six sense, but that's a movie
I never seen someone actually have that speech impediment before!
Every once and while you hear people with lisps, but who cares about that!
She's crazy...
She has to be, it's like going up a to burned victim and saying O MAN COOL SCARS!
...wait now I'm comparing myself to a burn victim that's horrible...
gosh I'm full of self pity!
Jake still stood slouched still listening to this rambling, odd, no care in the world hair
covering one eye girl. This converse wearing, RIOT displaying, purple eyeshadow blaring,
rare type of girl. And he felt her fingers shift yet stay on his shoulders as she kept on
going with her interest of stutters, at least he thinks she kept going in the same
subject, cause he was
too surrounded by the feel of her hands, engulfed by the movement of her glossed lips,
hypnotized by the shifting of her small hips, and enthralled by the slight bouncing of her
soft perky-
Hey!
So what do you say?
(SNAP welcome back to the real world Jake)
What?
I said my friend bailed on me and we where supposed to watch a movie together
but I still want to see the movie and my ride doesn't pass for three hours either way
want to kill time with me?
..heart failing
skin sweating
must...find..reality check
A finger poked a side of his rib which gave him recognition that this was the earth and he
did not just fly to space.
SO are you in or out stuttering stan- I mean...what's your name again? My name is Genesis
Jake smiled and stood straight.
Hi
My name is Jake
and sure I would love to hang.
My soul's eyes look upon the past,
and see hers meet mine for the first time;
I watch as our love's die is cast,
as the bells signaling our fates chime.
I watch as the fires within us ignite,
as everything we will be finds its beginnings;
this love at first sight burns ever so bright,
making our hearts rejoice at their lofty winnings.
I watch every passionate, yet tender
moment flow by, again kindling my emotions;
to her, I watch myself surrender,
diving into her love's boundless oceans.
I watch as we smile,
as we laugh and love.
We were convinced this would last awhile;
that this was ordained far above.
Then, we foundered, led ourselves astray;
her passion whisked away as if by a thief.
At this, I strive to look away,
to turn my gaze from this pain and grief.
But no man can shy away from the truth
of what he had and what he's lost.
He must forever contend with the mistakes of youth,
tears shed in vain and pain his cost.
Therefore I watch as the embers die,
as she turns away, headed for that door.
I watch as what I thought would be our life goes awry;
as we fade away, becoming no more.
I watch as she sheds
herself of what we were, gives up on me;
I watch as she tears into shreds
the heart I gave to her, and scatters the debris.
At length, after much introspection
I begin to wonder and muse;
if I had a chance to go back and make a correction,
what would I do to prevent these blues?
Would I try to discover the source
of her disaffection and our loss;
or would I simply plot a new course
from the start, never letting our stars cross?
They say that it's better to have loved and lost
than never to have loved at all;
but my disconsolate heart thinks that this has glossed
over the true depth of a spent heart's fall.
The beaten, weary soul knows not whether to pay heed
to the maxims of those dead and gone;
knows not whether to concede
that there might indeed someday be a new dawn.
At long last I reach the end of this vision,
the tragic finale of this bittersweet reverie.
The sad reality settles on me, of our division;
no greater agony exists in my memory.
END TIMES : TWO
End time dramas continue
to unfold as foretold
tribes of Judah and
Gad united in ether
descending conspiring
to pull Matrix strings
across rooms boom
death Will hidden
documents forged
a trigger activates
illicit action
Centre remains perfection
resurrection
Claim no marriage for
money honeyed
both are paper thin
dust speckled dragonflies
glide into geraniums cry
Truth mourns
hen-chicken ferns
hush murky tears
car ignition fear
burns
Pain has nowhere to
pulse but deep within
stealth sidles sleep
jealousies bleep
forever laced in viral
lanced cellular haste
Antares and Arcturus
watch spiritual warriors
discuss hush actions
gush
Clothed in black head
to toe racing an Audi
making it glow, split
second disappearance
Light sees ass twitch
seeking protection from
words rained in past
reflections
Outgrown forms collapse
to usher in cycles of
initiatory synapse
What is this past anyway ?
Another man’s download
in a desert of dialectic
redemption fast
These end times hold
keys to Uruz strength
so wrenching deep
mouldy ceilings weep
glass teapot aches
growth changes rune
stone answers fake
Passages of Dark part
once again decay
death fertilization
gestation rebirth
this is progression
as mirth
Then Melchedzidek spoke
in cloak to Sham’s Forty
Rules of Love inked across
my marked forehead
mint plant pegged
ancient fern atop torn
garden statue stern
Who will take the
Leap of Faith leaving
to proclaim missions
without a fission
Spiritual warriors know
their inner laws when
writ in cursive upon
open doors
they care not when
orders to leave
fly thick and fast
not cheap
Miners died in vain cold
digging for gold sold to
adorn Draco throats torn
glistening gloat
forms dying disguised
as boss lost tossed
we know no collapse
will not be flossed
our timing spot
on glossed
We live life potent
respected radical
transition
seize a moment
seen the vision !
©GhairoDanielsPoetry
&Song2025
Take a deep breath, i say to myself as i
Slowly walk down the dirt driveway
Thinking about how inviting me must have been a Mistake
The door creeks open and the smell of marijuana hits me like a brick wall
If only that wall was the door closing on me
Because i am not someone who belongs here
I make my way through the crowd trying to find you.
Your eyes glossed over and wine spills out of your glass as you raise it to slur “ 123 drink”
But even in your intoxicated state you look happy to see me.
I feel like a burden every time i cross through the door
I’m just someone you tolerate.
Through your persuasion i allow myself
to drink with everyone.
It becomes a truth serum and allows everyone to over share anything and everything about their-self.
You sit across from me.
And i can tell that you’re thinking of something but don’t know if you can say it.
So instead you start multiple rounds of “ can i ask you a question”
Eventually we just move this party up to your room.
My chest is tight at the thought of every other guy you’d probably want to be spending this time with.
But it’s me you asked to join you.
But I am not a late night call
I can not satisfy those cravings for you
But still you welcome me in
In hopes that I’m drunk enough to let my walls down
As you let your pants fall down.
In the dark, you allow my hands to explore every inch of your body.
Crossing over your insecurities that quickly become more reasons to love you.
More rapid fire questions come and i can not find the way to answer them platonically
Platonically i say because that’s your favorite word with me.
The things you ask me are not something you’d be proud of.
But as long as they’re “platonically” done it’s okay.
And i do it even though i know i shouldn’t
And when it’s all said and done i know you’re still thinking about him.
And it’s hard not to compare myself to him when I’m sleeping next to you.
Because i know you’d rather wake up next to him
But there’s nothing i want more than to fall asleep next to you.
When looking at me what is it that you know you can see?
What does your self have to say to you about the soul that lives inside of me?
Can he see what it is that’s deep inside the back of my eyes?
Or is he the ultimate from behind the promise of my only surprise?
Maybe it’s not what it seems in the beam of this ray of light,
Or maybe he sees his visions glaring in this blend much too bright.
Yourself or you which is fool and which is wise?
Up and away we go riding all of the waves that our eyes can possibly see.
Coiling loosely and simply falling free.
My breath captured with my body soiled from the scent of the bliss inside of you.
Magic blends heating the layers of gloss that keep shining me all of the way through.
With my body hot my blood trembles beneath the feel of my bared and wet skin.
I’m all up inside of this glare feeling magical as it completely blends all of my needs safely in.
When looking at me what is it that you think you know?
What does your self have to say to you about the feel beneath the touch of my skin?
Does he see this glare of light with his visions sunk or just anchored by a strange hook?
Or is he the ultimate from behind the beams when they will only burn shining on dim?
Maybe it’s not what it seems when you’ve really, truly and even squarely looked?
Or maybe he sees these beams blending when his visions are adapted too his all time low.
Yourself or you, which is friend and which is foe?
Up and away we go calming the almighty of the highest seas.
Completely loose simply aiming for free.
My breath taken and my body covered with the scent of the blissful buried treasures in you.
Complete subliminal excellence in the magic that keeps shining me all the way through!
My body glossed and gleaming as my blood quivers in the light of this heavenly vision’s blend.
I’m up inside of myself soothed as the magic warms what is deep beneath my bared wet skin.
Yourself or You!
Which has vision and which is dim per glares in the currents of “The Magic’s Blend”?
they were having trouble in their marriage
so they both decided to go to a counselor &
he suggested a retreat,
so they both cleared their schedules &
in the attempt to preserve whatever was left,
they both made their way to the center
buried out in the middle of the Vermont
wilderness---
sitting in that circle seen in every romantic comedy
portraying something of the same
the two struggling individuals,
whose love for each other & mutual attraction
has gone the way of the dinosaurs,
go through the motions.
the trust fall comes,
as an angry bat would fly from “hell”
if there was such a ridiculous place,
and the couple in question gets up as those who had gone before them
with gushing dimples &
hugs, come to some kind of realization
that they still trust each other &
that this exercise alone has proved it.
turning around & facing away from her/his partner
said individual closes their eyes &
waits a moment, crossing their arms over their chest
as their partner makes their way a few feet behind them
holding arms out
ready to catch them.
as the master of these ceremonies sounds the verbal gun,
the partner falling, with eyes closed, lets their body drop backwards
into what they secretly believe will be the loving arms of their
partner.
simultaneous with the sounding of the verbal gun came a quick glance over
at another’s spouse,
apparently they were stretching & exposing themselves to
desire on behalf of the partner who was supposed to be paying attention to catching
the person in front of them, now falling.
and so while one partner was thinking about how they might get in the pants of
the spouse of some other gal/guy now stretching,
their partner fell towards them & with nothing to stop the fall,
came crashing down backwards, their head hitting the glossed dance floor first---
the way their head hit the floor sent their body reeling into convulsions &
they were carried off by medics to the hospital
ASAP---
the trust fall exercise was canceled for the rest of the retreat.
I try to push away
she said
As I lit my cigarette in hand
The gleam from the fire made my eyes squint
and gave me a sub version of her face.
All I glimpsed was red bitten lips and black stained skin
that trailed from her eyes; I guess from that mascara or eyeliner
whatever the hell you women wear.
Push away..?
From what?
I thought
Hmmm
I'm really not interested.
I just wanted to smoke and watch some hopeless girls dance.
That's right, hopeless;
Men don't come here to watch a seven
find a way to grab some dollar bills without her hands.
We get to see that there is someone out there that make us feel better,
cause we got dealt the better hand,
they just happen to have a sweet face and nice pair...sometimes...
So could I have one?
she said to me
I was so gone and dazed that I forgot she had spoken to me before.
Have what I said
She stared at the lit white duke in my hand.
I lingered there with eyes glossed from my buddies
Jim, Jack, Johnny and Jose;
Those boys sure like to ride those horses...
Are you even old eno- ah what do I care.
I hand her a one out of ten cancer stick,
her cracked lips pucker as she holds and looks to me for a light.
The fire waves hello and goodbye quickly
and we're back in the musk of things.
Not much for caring are you honey?
she seem to mumbled with a disdained smile
Without a beat I told her:
I'm not your savior baby
You've been watching your own time
And God only knows when that hand is going to stop at five
I'm not your lover darling
That hand's only clinging wine
And no man likes a sober woman, but no drunk woman be mine
I'm not your father lady
It's seems that guidance has gone and kept you lost
But it seems your mothers words you've tuned out or have shaped them boxed
And with that I took a lost drag and started walking out the door,
and as I looked back at her she sat there still not knowing,
not knowing what she's living for...