Long Glue Poems
Long Glue Poems. Below are the most popular long Glue by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Glue poems by poem length and keyword.
Apart from our nice 3 piece suite the cat has clawed and shredded
it's knocked over a figurine that lies there prone, beheaded.
I'm quite adept and nimble fingered-
Have I got the knack
to use a tube of superglue and stick her noggin back?
The bottled glue is near opaque, unseen and so I doubt
if any glue is left inside, then all of it squirts out.
I'll grab the phone, dial 101 and get help if I'm able
to prise my thumb and forefinger from off the kitchen table.
Should I get free then this might be the chance to commit crime
since two of my poor fingerprints won't grow back for some time.
I've scraped and polished tirelessly but the table's still got glue on.
Should one more figurine get smashed-
I'll just go buy a new one.
Unity, the bond that binds us all,
Together we stand, never to fall.
In times of joy, in times of strife,
Our unity keeps us going in life.
From different lands and cultures we hail,
But in unity, we never fail.
For in our hearts, we all agree,
To live in peace and harmony.
Let not our differences tear us apart,
But let our unity be the glue of our heart.
For in our diversity lies our strength,
And together we shall go to great length.
Let us hold hands and make a stand,
Against hate and bigotry in our land.
For we are one, and in our unity,
We shall build a world of prosperity.
So let us unite, as one and all,
And answer the clarion call.
For in our unity lies our destiny,
A bright future, for all eternity.
I slid the slider to my art studio with cautious optimism,
Hoping to find my brushes and glitter and paint and glue
Somewhere close to where I had left them last night.
The bright pink paint I had specifically placed front and center was missing.
Let us not jump to conclusions, my socialized mind said. Maybe it was not last night.
Maybe you put it there the night before last night.
We were not out here the night before, my dendrites argued after they had connected last night’s thinking.
My paint water was in its usual place. My brushes were where I had left them.
I usually use thirty to forty brushes a day, so there is no way to tell if they had been moved or were missing.
Everything else appeared to be exactly as it was yesterday.
I immediately began convincing myself that I must have moved that neon leather paint at the last second before turning and shutting the slider.
Faeries and elves do not paint in here I argued.
That is absurd and realistically unsound. Right?
But what if they do move the paint, dancing and twirling through it? Creating new magic with their little ballerina shoes?
What if they come in here and slide across the canvases, dropping glitter and enhancing my stuff?
What if they are like the shoemaker elves, fixing my mistakes in the middle of the night?
Thinking I had heard a tiny little patter of a faerie foot, I turned and looked at my art table.
Whereby sat the hot pink neon paint that was not there a moment before.
What if?
Written 10-3-2018 Poetry Contest: The Paint Movers
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
The truth it has eluded me
Your promises are new to me
I don't know who to believe
But remember I do vote
Your cheating ways we'll overcome
Your lying days have made us numb
What you eat we get left over crumbs
I jot this down in note
You once were for the little ones
Your crazy glue has come undone
You've left behind what you once loved
A country in mid choke
You steal you cheat you swear you cuss
You think you know what's good for us
You miss the point we missed the bus
I wish we would have known
That you are one big marching band
We placed so much into your hands
You make excuses at our demands
As you wave from the boat
Wolf in sheep's clothing makes you a liar
Selling dreams like dope with us as buyers
Dragon smoke we breath your fire
As we take another toke
Hold on to what you've got by any means
As you take out the trash of our lost dreams
What little we have left it seems
How low will you go
To save yourself as we all drown
You're in your bubble inside your town
You hold us up to shake us down
But remember we do vote
The second hand smoke
Of a relentless pursuit of peace.
Projects the burned out forest
Of my soul. My tired trembling hands
That I return to my pockets
Because of the blood stains under my
Finger nails. Never finding anything remotely
Close to home, I am a careless visitor in my own skin.Black sheep,the shame swept under the rug.the claustrophobic cataclysm that nobody talks about.The dirty secret hidden in a box lock away
In shadows.Shame I have always carried to the name that never was mine to begin with.
Systematically hell bent on finding something worth what fight I have left.This battered broken glass heart of mine, the glue oozing
From the cracks is the metaphor of my whole life.
~JAZ~
I met friends at ten o'clock for our rendezvous
so we could attend a Halloween party at the zoo.
What weird costumes and sights came into view!
Three wrinkled witches were stirring a bubbly brew.
One of them offered us eyeballs of newts to chew.
"Oh," I replied. "I think I'll pass on trying the stew."
That hag cursed at me like a nagging old shrew.
We walked down a dark road called, Goblin Avenue
when over our heads, twenty vampire bats flew.
Zombies drooled near us while standing in a queue
as if waiting in that line so they could use the loo!
On we ventured, until I stepped in a pile of goo
that turned out to be bloody guts on my shoe.
I was getting frustrated, and about to cry, "Oh, Pooh!"
because my Frankenstein mask had lost a neck screw
but I was able to fix it with a dab of crazy glue.
We passed people dancing while practicing voodoo,
chanting mysterious words that sounded like hoodoo.
They transformed a slithering snake into a kangaroo
who charged at us to fight, using moves of Kung Fu.
This place was creepy and everything was cuckoo.
We ran until we could hide behind an elephant statue.
Thought we'd be safe there until it started to spew
yucky stuff from its trunk that smelled like mildew.
Good gosh, we stunk. So, now what should we do?
Searched for an exit, but where it was we had no clue
Just then we were assaulted by a screaming cockatoo!
Then we were surrounded by ghosts, shouting, "BOO!"
and heard the hungry howling of a werewolf, a lougarou.
Somehow we escaped from that horrendous hullabaloo!
October 19, 2021
Halloween Monorhyme Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
Yet another poem for my novel, " A thousand cursed lives". This is in the same universe as my poem, "An incomplete love story". Imagine a time gap of 20 years. Those who have read my previous poems are already familiar with the story. I am still not sure how I want it to end but maybe after 1000 years of incomplete stories, Bushra and Faereiz deserve a happy ending where eventhough initially separated, they eventually manage to overcome their differences and choose one another over the rest of the world.
Two souls being impatient of their loyalty
For there was a constant fear of this cruel society
Millenia was spent only in the waiting of one another
Cursed is the situation which caused the separation of two lovers,making them suffer
But today nothing mattered, no sunset, no imagery
For his life partner stood right infront of him
No space was left for words, neither did she need to say any stuff
Her silent lips had already said more than enough
The rain symbolized all the lonely tears the soul has cried waiting for its partner
With every single passing day, the waiting becoming harder and harder
O lovers of this world, tell what else were they suppose to do
All these years of waiting, yet their hearts were stuck to one another just like a glue
Hiding under a red umbrella were two souls in love
Their hearts were synchronize as one, angels marveling at the scene from above
For their beats had a perfect harmony
To love each other unconditionally and for an eternity
On this day, none of them waited for their destiny
For it was here, his with her, and hers with him.
They no longer looked for comfort, nor chased their dreams
For today under this umbrella, everything looked so perfect and serene
Not even hesitating for a second he pulled her close,
Her angelic eyes looking directly at him and realising that yeah he love her the most
His gaze was on her lovely face and at last her soft lips met his
Fate was bound to bring them close, for God couldn't write separation in a love so divine
5 Nov 2018
The magic you will always return to,
Isn't just the body of your love's quest;
Like the body, your burdened soul once glue.
The fragrance of her smiling face, pursue...
Risk of timing grace you never confessed:
The magic you will always return to,
Is of unseen peering eyes beyond clue,
To free the touching mind posing unrest...
Like the body, your burdened soul once glue.
Awful memories mind never subdue;
Through the worst, best moments wish be confessed-
The magic you will always return to.
Catching a glimpse of crime, love denied queue,
Trying to cover up pleasure... expressed;
The magic you will always return to,
Like the body, your burdened soul once glue.
Draft for life
everything by it's order
date
sense
on paper
will I die?
claiming that I look ridiculous
you're not laughing
you are terrified
that almighty glue
will dry in wrong lines
resulting as cracks over esophagus
then all over again
and
you can't do it anymore
I am feeling
you are what you eat
you are what you eat
you are what you eat
stripped down to the bone
I want to be a plant
dandelion
they die light
in wind's arms
I felt
it was already then determined
when
body in body stood
child
sister
friend
an acquaintance
child
you didn't want me
you
are crying
I
am happy
will I die?
they say lust is evil, but is it?
i want you to see it from my view,
isn't money evil, yet wee kill for it?
yes YOU!!!...
lust is no different, wee need it to notice her,
her figure, everything in perfect proportion and
symmetry, yes, her boobs and bum stand out,
she would be the water in a drought,
thats why you saw her and could not stop staring..
lust is but a feeling,
of wanting,
of needing,
a click in your brain that says you must have her.
are this not the motivations wee need to approach her,
be it being shy or scared, isn't lust what holds us together
like glue, helping us, in what wee have to do?
as a man, with a mission and passion.
confidence, lust, are they not but the same? for what wee need
for this game?
they say a journey begins with a step,
in this case,
love is the journey,
but lust... is the step.