Long Homebody Poems
Long Homebody Poems. Below are the most popular long Homebody by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Homebody poems by poem length and keyword.
After much reflection and introspection I am making an alphabetical list of the things that make me, me. I'm sure there are more that I could add, but for now this is who I am:
First of all I am of the female persuasion.
I am AMERICAN by birth,
I am a BAKER of cookies and cakes (nothing fancy),
I am a CHRISTIAN by faith,
CARING and COMPASSIONATE by nature,
CREATIVE and CURIOUS,
DEARLY loved DAUGHTER (though my parents have passed),
DAYDREAMER extraordinaire,
EMOTIVE EMPATH,
FAITHFUL FRIEND (I'm a good listener),
FIRST-BORN child,
I am completely FALLIBLE,
GRATEFUL for all my blessings (God is good),
A GRANDMA to six greatly loved grandchildren (my biggest blessings)
I am a HOMEBODY with questionable housekeeping skills,
IMPULSIVE at times, but mostly cautious,
INQUISITIVE, always ready to learn something new,
KINDHEARTED,
LOVER of God, cats, chihuahuas (and other small dogs), music and chocolate,
I am MARRIED and the MOTHER of two sons.
NORMALLY NON-VIOLENT and NURTURING,
I have OLD-FASHIONED values (never going to change),
ORGANIZATION eludes me, (You should see my desk!)
OVERWEIGHT (pleasantly plump, maybe?)
I am a PEACEMAKER, a POETESS,
A QUIET introvert (is there any other kind?),
An avid READER (my Kindle is maxed out),
I am RIGHT-HANDED,
I am a SISTER, aunt, niece and cousin,
SAVED by the grace of God through Jesus,
I tend to be SELFISH (but I'm working on that),
I am SHORT in stature (I've actually shrunk an inch!)
TEA is my beverage of choice in the mornings,
The THESAURUS and dictionary are my friends,
I am UNDERSTANDING (but not always understood),
I am VALUABLE to my family and friends (or so they say),
WIFE to a loving, faithful husband,
I WORRY too much, (should pray more)
I love WORDS and WRITING makes me happy.
List Poem
Revised 7/11/24
Yesterday I thought of going to the gym
for a minute considered going for a swim
then I remembered I had better things to do
convinced I could come up with a thing or two
Today I was thinking again of going to the gym
but soon gave up on that reckless silly whim
instead stayed home to bake a chocolate cake
planned our supper and thawed a ribeye steak
Tomorrow I'll likely consider going to the gym
but save myself the trouble and just pretend I'm slim
afterall life's too short to waste it breaking in a sweat
while cocktail glasses await to be filled with somethin' wet
AP: 1st place 2025
I'm beginning to feel odd,
hermit like if you will.
I refuse to believe all the lies
they tell wrapped up nicely like
presents presented as truth.
they even get our youth and act
like their parents when they
have none of their own.
believe me I'm not trying to
throw stones I just peep what
I know therefore I'm a homebody
where I know the truth unfolds
before my eyes in the privacy of
my home while I pray to the Upmost
author of truth for discernment to know
what He wants me to know
the veil can be removed and the light
can shine out and from within
then I have the boldness along
with courage to speak the gospel
to whomever will listen since it's
my intention to reach as many as I
can and help them understand real
love and salvation that is waiting for
them
a hermit I can be no more
If I were famous – wanting to remain unseen
I’d have a secret way to leave my house.
While I’d sneak off as quiet as a mouse,
I’d have a “double” leave by limosine!
My house would have a pool inside and out!
My rooms would be so lovely and pristine
because I’d have myself (without a doubt)
a trusted staff to garden and to clean.
I’d use my money for good causes, and
I’d travel in the comfort of my jet.
Despite all that, I wouldn’t act all grand,
for never domineering could I get!
Perhaps a movie critic I would be.
I’d have a screening room. Friends I’d invite
to view new movies in my house with me.
At Oscars, in attendance I would be.
Though famous, I’d be like I am today -
still down to earth and working with my mind.
A homebody most likely I would stay,
and always I’d remember to be kind.
March 16, 2021 for Joe Sandler's If I Were Famous Poetry Contest
brown eyes that sparkle in the sun
inspires me to take turns i thought
i would never take
i thought surely that there must have
been some kind of mix-up in God's Master
Plan
however i never questioned or challenged
his logic, meaning, or purpose
instead i just go with it and let the unsung
art of presented discovery overtake the
homebody philosophy which was my norm
when i just let go my eyes became saucers
of surefire delight
there were times when i had to pinch myself
and wear green for personal reassurance
now i live life happily with my head in clearer
clouds
instead of searching for a temporary escape, i
now search for the second, third, fourth, fifth
take and beyond.....
Everybody knocks on Homebody's door,
Everybody said hi I'm looking for Somebody.
Homebody told Everybody that
Somebody went shopping with her cousins
Somewhere, Anywhere and Everywhere.
Everybody left looking for Somebody.
If Busybody was a gossip queen,
Then Homebody is a match maker,
Trying to find a match for Anybody.
Anybody who's sexy and sassy
and a walking wet dream.
But Homebody was more than a pretty face
being thick and sexy.
Both of then, were single and on the market,
Only Nobody was available.
Busybody told Nobody that he should
go out with Homebody,
But she can be a little bougie.
Nobody said that he's not picky,
that he'd even go out with Anybody.
Somebody knocked on Busybodies door
looking to have more than a few words.
Meanwhile Homebody was taking a shower
and then she put on some not for company clothes.
There was knock at the door,
Homebody yelled come in thinking it was Anybody.
And Nobody showed up with flowers and chocolate.
Nobody came looking for Anybody
He looked around and didn't see Anybody.
So, Nobody asked Homebody
if she'd like dinner and a movie?
Homebody found a reason to get out the house.
And Everybody is still looking for Somebody.
Proud pirate flag, peacock, pumpernickel pie,
Perfumed prairie pinwheels, paper two-ply.
Happy hanging homebody having healthy hi.
Heaving hitting heartfelt Harry hopping high.
Ballooning blissful blossoms beaconing blue Babe,
Luxurious lumberjack licking lemonade.
Merry mashing marshmallows mysteriously made.
Fine frolicking French frankfurters fearful and afraid.
It is fun to throw some alliteration into a poem like this.
My brain is laughing at the silliness, it’s like a gentle kiss.
So when you think I have no more ideas, I am simply out.
Make a list of P words, or K words, and give a little shout.
Your ready muse will be happy that you are writing anything down.
It might not make any sense at first, but it will stop a little frown.
The thing is to keep the pen moving or the fingers across the keys.
Your muse so excited, when you make cute little poems like these.
A poem unlived
is a poem merely written --
sustenance our words
let the body digest with heartfelt
regurgitation – a poem unlived
is a poem merely written
as well as tasty center, a healthy chew
needs skin-like peachy, tickly sensation,
emotive mastication – best often
lost when discarding fussy peelings
also feelings
a poem unlived is a poem merely written
endless editing...crumblings tossed
our salads before the main course
heavily garnished
each poem with a dipping
thread link – we warm at
the lava lip...deep, glowing
convulsing start, long before the page is stirred,
shaken – ready for bubbly tip
a poem unlived is a poem merely written
the sea we sail both tranquil and rage
creation an unkempt voyage of possibilities,
a nameless work rocks back and forth
cradled it longs to escape wild fluctuation
and transverse,
seeking theme and form – sanguine
transfusion, repetitively jabbing for fluid release
we call upon the mariner, captain, surgeon of
ancient crafts -- muse of many incarnations,
sage, fool of countless courts – both wallflower
and dancer – homebody and restless prancer, where
we have been and yet beam
to go – uniquely fermented we uncork
for a spotlight blow, for grand revelation
introduced with a toast, a click, a sparkly
crystal glow
staging both our fond darkness and
light – an author preparing to take
literary flight
a poem unlived
is a poem merely written --
like stopped midstream
without a river flow, banks
turned away
tepidly applauding….
A stagnant sip before the
moved-by lauding….
Though poetically smitten
dearly kittened
a poem unlived
is a poem merely written...
Aardvark, audience, aim, address.
Double creature feature, sign sore stress.
Poets, penury, paucity, peak.
Prophets of the pack never wet the beak...
Carrion chic? Run raw revile.
Roundabout the dugout, crocodile!
Reptilian art in forgotten caves.
Knolly, unholy, goal, giant graves...
Mercy saves. Greed kills. No pain pills.
Mighty steel walls hemming in the hills.
Lemming, when you fall, do you see doom?
Certain curtain call, boulder seals tomb...
Flickering foxfire, foregone fate.
Heaven and Hell, horror and hate.
Tormented tornado and tired typhoon.
Chemicals dissolving in my spoon...
Queen of Carthage Dido, homebody high!
Stay with me forever in the bye and bye!
Fair as a naga queen in angry mood!
Hit it with wit if it's talking rude!
Buoyant like the hopes of a matador!
Quicken with thy cape, vampire! Be sure.
Yellow priestess, ritual sleek!
Alliance Black Abyss, plant one on my cheek...