Long Gyrating Poems
Long Gyrating Poems. Below are the most popular long Gyrating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gyrating poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s a holiday weekend, all of the ‘fellows’ have Monday off.
At lunch Wednesday, Lisa said, “We need a throw-down.”
So, we made some invites and started spreading word around.
“You know, we all work hard enough, we need to get down!”
We asked for RSVPs, and got 43, for the effort, a decent payoff.
My sister’s apartment has a balcony and plenty of space.
We spent Saturday shopping and rearranging the place.
Early Sunday, we hid all the breakables and decorated,
As people settled in, things took off - as we had anticipated.
I was surprised when I saw Quinn come in
I quietly turned to Lisa, mouthing, “Who invited him?”
The blush on her face, gave her instantly away,
“We couldn’t NOT invite him, we see him every day.”
More people were arriving, laughing and smiling, the party was thriving.
Everyone seemed to bring something, a bottle of Canadian goose,
a bucket of KFC, another of popeyes, some glowing aurora jungle juice,
taco dip and chips, a Boston Creme pie and a cake with purple icing.
When you feel right, you let the music ignite you,
the beat seems to drive you, the vibe helps excite you,
the bass starts to thump and, well, you’re only young once,
you forget all your cares, for a delirium that’s shared.
In this ocean of joy, I saw a sad and reserved boy.
It was Quinn, in the corner, slouching on the couch.
a model of insecurity, watching the party self consciously,
I looked at Lisa, rolled my eyes, and said, “Why ME?”
I maneuvered over and took Quinn gently by the shoulders,
“Come ON, Quinn, you’re among friends, so embrace the funk,
these GIRLS wanna dance, give ‘em a chance, you’re not a monk!”
I pulled him to his feet, and dragged him over to Monique.
“Quinn, Monique - Monique, Quinn - let the dancing begin!”
By the end of the night Quinn was doing all right.
He has a quirky, awkward style, reconciled by a nice smile,
he’d danced with every girl, leaving them a little beguiled.
“Do it Quin, DO IT!” A girl, at one point, had laughed.
“Oh,” he’d said, gyrating in his herky-jerkily away, “It’s being DONE!”
Who could have known our stuffy, Harvard Quinn could be fun?!
IDEAS
an
applied sense
of the literate
conceptions
undevalued
gratituous
but
honourable
in
curious phenomena
change places
a mark
of verse
fluctuating rhythm.
gyrating
emotions
so irregular
of
no consequence
incoherently
emerge
so freelyASSUMPTIONS
subtle &
many
illustrative
observations
in
layered
settings
on many
levels
amplified
foibles
in
an absurdity
of
unlikely flights
of
imaginative
action
so plausible
&
authorial
in
tone
from
ingenious
angles
recognised
or imagined
setting
to
&
create
restoration
to
illustrate
The ants and the beetles were all celebrating
As I wed the spider that I had been dating
And soon sixteen legs would be consolidating
I could say eighteen but that’s exaggerating
But all of a sudden the ground was vibrating
We tried to get clear but the plants were gyrating
We made for a drain with a safe metal grating
To hide from the beast and it’s red armour plating
We froze at the passage the beast was creating
By severing grass with its twin blades rotating
In fear of our lives we then started debating
To run off together or try separating
A not so near miss meant I’ll never be mating
Sometimes the obvious doesn't need stating
At least while my wife finds that rather frustrating
I won’t be her lunch when we’re done consummating
We tried to escape with some skilful pond skating
It helped that the air machine wasn't aerating
But there was a fountain that was agitating
The surface too much which was infuriating
I turned to the man and began contemplating
If spiders could ever do human castrating
But soon he was done and he started inflating
A pool with a puncture, he found that deflating
Reward and his effort were not correlating
And that made him mad, made him start salivating
And just when we thought that he might be fixating
His face went all blank and his eyes were dilating
He glared at us spiders, his ire not abating
So we thought it best to be reciprocating
But he had a brick in his hand elevating
I’ll tell you right now, that was not constipating
Perhaps it’s now time for some quick relocating
This isn’t the fate I was anticip.....
Ah! From the centreless fulcrum
I graze and caress each sensation
At play to the cadence of love rhythm
Renewal continual without cessation
Each node within bliss sensorium
Melding with the Ohm reverberation
Dance beauteous within my body prism
Polarities union heart’s celebration
Swaying to the breath pendulum
Seduction in gyrating slow motion
As both seen and unseen appear by turn
Essence of presence looks on in wonder
Magnetic currents bestow bliss burn
In resonance with the soundless thunder
Vaporised self has no niche for vibes stern
Disallowing cravings that would plunder
Subtle pulsations divine, I do discern
Mindful that no hearts be left asunder
Save love, all else false, life lesson I learn
Ensconced in bliss, purified heart tender
Vibrant exuberance is mine when alone
Nectar sublime does joy fragrance exude
The source, scriptures say is the pineal cone
So I wish not to be rude but prefer solitude
Imprints of love divine, etched in stone
Are ingrained in timeless time by fortitude
God bestowed benedictions we each do own
Radiating aura of splendorous beatitude
Thus mundane chatter, a noisy drone
Call it what you will; aloneness my attitude
08-November-2021
Leave Me Alone Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Fate with its fierce claws
swooped down on her,
fearfully altering her already fatigued life.
After the death of her affectionate parents,
with none to care, the blind girl’s life
turned dreadfully damp and dark.
An orphanage became her shield and shelter.
Suddenly left under a strange stormy sky,
she was like a bird with broken wings.
While other children laughed and danced
she listened silent, secretly sobbing inside.
The rhythm of music scrawled wishful waves in her
Its notes sifted down slowly into each sinew.
She tried to remember and recite them in silence
She sang them solitary in murmurous voice,
and her legs involuntarily tapped to the rhythm.
Then came the day of community celebration
As the tantalizing, titillating music filled the air,
she rose suddenly from her seat,
walked to the place from where tuneful trills flowed.
No one guided her, but with the melodious music
brimming and beating softly inside,
she moved to the center, brightly illumined.
She started to sway, though never rehearsed before,
with silken steps softly sweeping the floor
and feet fluttering and floating in flawless rhythm.
Before an imagined crowd, she swayed and swirled.
As a designated dervish, her hands weaving worship,
inner eyes emitting fire, her feet flawlessly moving,
she danced in frenzied joy, wobbling like a droplet
on an oiled lotus leaf, her body gyrating into loops,
like a practiced gymnast gliding.
On one leg, as she whirled and twirled,
everyone got lost in her malleable motion!
The paper sack left on the floor
has come to life. It’s haunted. Look!
It’s growling and gyrating now—
gone wild. It’s time somebody took
control. Aha! I’ve got ya now,
my little kitties in the sack.
I’ll get your lunch now, Pat and Pete.
Okay, I’ll let you ride my back.
Ouch! Watch the claws. They really hurt.
I’ll put thick blankets on my lap.
Then you can be so comfy but
won’t draw blood. Soon we’ll take our nap.
You’re fighting for the bouncy ball.
Sometimes you’re an aggressive pair;
but, after all, you’re little ones.
Sometimes my human kids won’t share!
Don’t climb the curtains, Pat. Oh, Pete,
you’ve overturned the water dish.
I see what y’all are staring at.
You can’t get to the kids’ goldfish!
You’re so much like the kids when they
were small—just into everything.
When they get home from school, we five
will have ourselves a happy fling.
Amidst this greenery and purple heather
Azure blue skies grace our naked souls
Beneath the Cullins on the Isle of Skye
Two in love sharing adventurous goals
On our tartan blanket facing each other
Noses in touch sharing kisses aplenty
Rapid they are in teasingly smother
Tongues now fence, complimentary
Wandering hands on porcelain skin
Gracing, caressing, she sighs as I do
Arching her back, her breasts in rise
Pert to the air, this soon to join two
Slowly in kissing crawl, to her lips I
Caressing undulations, blushing she
Our eyes meet, for they tell no lies
In loving clasp she welcomes me
Rhythmic we are in this rustic place
Seismic groans of wonderment cry
Skin to skin of loving abrasions
Two fused astride my manly thighs
Gyrating hips in sensuous grind
Internal flows await their desire
Passionate kisses now frenzied
Fusion of two in wanting transpire
In both hands I cup her breasts
With my lips her neck caress
A nibble or two upon each ear
What she holds in her hand makes my intentions clear
Softly I massage the small of her back
Then like kneading bread her buttocks attack
I inhale the aroma of her estrogen
Her moans and her purrs beg me to begin
With eyes still closed she guides me in
Hands on my hips control motion
Our bodies have now merged into one
In the bedroom window peeks the morning sun
Covers are kicked off tumbling to the floor
Bodies are gyrating a little bit more
She clutches the pillows in tightly clenched fists
The sun burns off the morning mist
The climaxes are both synchronized
I see swollen pupils in her blue eyes
We enfold each other in exhausted arms
For five more minutes before the morning alarms
at the old fishing lake
In a kingdom full of whitefish
And the mussels are never filleting.
~
at the old fishing lake
I remember I was oystering
That moment my soul grew scalloping
~
And the estuaries never reefing
Mudfish - mudfish – mudfish!
The lagoon laughed
As I threw in my line
Surprise carp and catfish whaling and barks
Dogs chasing squirrels onto rotten logs
~
look at the water
into the pond bubble-bubble
circles swarms
~
my line gyrating slightly moving and bobbing
guess the fishes are biting
at the old fishing lake
6/25/20
WRITTEN WORDS BY James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
(My old poem modified to suit the contest)
She heard the sound of pigeons overhead
Looking up she saw them whirling and gyrating
Forming ever emerging patterns in the sky
They soared on and on until they became
Fading black dots in the blue.
Such sights would have sent her to raptures
Sometime back......
But now when she sees them
She can only think of the years speeding by
And the promises broken
And her whole life- a fading black dot!
Why did he turn his back on her?
Why did he break his promise?
In her loneliness, demons of doubts
Come to plague her and drown her
Into a pool of deep sorrow and tears.
She is infected with a virus of melancholy
She walks with lacerations in her soul
Pain consumes her without flame
Forever she wages a battle inside
To drive out the demons of dejection
But she feels as if a sharp knife
Is cutting right through her heart
And she winces at every chop
Though she tries hard to cover her bruises
They bleed red and make themselves known.
Once with his presence, the darkness
Inside her was charged with light
He was her sky, her firmament
The ascent of her soul in the morning
And the bough of her homing at night.
But dreams have sorely betrayed her.
Now like a stranger she waits at his doorstep,
Wondering if he would let her in.
Pain has sucked her out
In a leaking vessel, she collects her tears
To water the parched terrain
Of her drought- stricken domain
Now she lives in perpetual darkness
Fighting with black shadows
Day in and day out!