Long Idyll (idyl) Poems
Long Idyll (idyl) Poems. Below are the most popular long Idyll (idyl) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Idyll (idyl) poems by poem length and keyword.
fig tree stood sturdy in backyard
moon cried, sighed, shone nevertheless
lilies splendid we picked some sweet
breathing nature's savoury lore
rain showers continued soaking
we donned our brown velvet jackets
feet safe in crinkled leather boots
henceforth wrinkled folds golden holds ~
gold burnishes our folds henceforth
feet nails dissipate in ether
velvet frays to shreds in clouds bled
skin flakes in soft spring rain showers
breath continues octagonal
blooms tightly curled, first lily shy
moon fully undressed brings fresh corn
sighs ripple surface of fig drinks ~
This life has turned around
many curves past many
beautiful places that have
beckoned me to stop and walk
among the wild flowers.
I have stopped to walk among
the wild flowers bending low to
smell and gaze at their intricate
colors wondering if there is
anyone out there that would pull
me down and explore the
wonders of this world ?
I look for a woman to complete
me to bring to my world what I
can not give.
I dream of a woman that I will
pour a bath for , light candles
for that I will wash her back in
the moon light and ask her to
dance to the sound of the
waves.
I dream of a woman I smell on
the breeze , who's eyes I swim
in dropping all pretenses on the
shore. My skin is so soft that a
baby will coo when she touches
my chest.
She would appreciate me not
for my beauty, but even more
for the beauty inside my soul.
She has a smile that comes
from inside and some would say
rivals the sun.
She will move with confidence
and she will look for a man
whose touch is tender and this
touch awakens all who meet
him to the fact that there is love
in this world.
When ever she is near I will not
be able to contain myself and
my body will respond
automatically pulling her gently
to me.
My heart will always want to
make her smile. Yet she is no
twig to be broken.
She is strong and resilient like a
willow bending but never
braking in the wind.
Her sadnesses is deep he knows
the pain of this world, but her
joy brightens a room.
She calls to the man in me to
love her so deeply, to find every
way to pleasure her and she
wants to do the same.
I could hold, kiss , make love to
her all day and she would beam
when we stepped outside to go
for a swim. These are my
dreams this is the heart I carry.
I am gentle and I am
independent but I love oh so
deeply! Is it you my woman?
And in time... Mankind said lets make a god in our own image.
Let us describe him as powerless, let us emasculate him
Understanding He is not the all 'powerful God'
Let us do these things that we will be blessed.!
Let us create god as a multi-deity, god can be even female
Let us triumph over this god,
Let us name all the starry host, for that is 'not' the role of God.
Let us create stars of film and stage; instead of stars representing
believers.
Let us create life in laboratory's because there is no creation.
Let us teach of perversion and then bless it.
Let us turn from Him in our sickness's, and embrace drugs.
Let us push youth into deception for, that's an easy number.
Let us introduce them to debt at an early age
Submitting them to 'usury'
Let us tie two stones together that the
people may carry them.
Let us devise all types of distractions, let us remove
The one God from school.
Let us divide the family, that children will not know
One father.
Let us preside over the greatest suicide rates of people ever
And the great teachers and leaders, looked on all they had done and said it is good.
On this landmark an image stands...
statue of a man.
Man of honor and talent,
admiration of any man.
Born with great love for country
Died with one heart of chivalry.
Studied in different schools,
aced all subjects in drools.
A man gifted with excellence.
Shared great works in pickets,
Cured many patients without wickets.
A man of great stature,
No man may be able to equalize.
A man of great sorrow,
Sacrificed himself for tomorrow.
Fellowmen freed to visualize.
So much more can be said
About a man of enviable skills
Young and old have all laid
Heroism of a small man...
Bigger, higher than hills.
NO MORE LOVE POEM
“”..... Ander her picture when she cut her wrists and so the kid saw the picture and his prick went Whoop Whoop Whoop,,,”
- Trantino. The Great Blafigria Is.
“ … For I dream I know not how¡
And my soul is sorely shaken
Lest an evil step be taken,-
Lest the dead who is forsaken
May not be happy now.”
-The Bridal Ballad. Edgar Allan Poe
Please Stop.
I don’t want falling in Love
& being pretty smart
O mamma mia.
When the Train is Gone
I thrower in motion:
I don’t hit the nail on the head¡
I’m going wild against the Wall
Slap-up meal.
My brain’s been ****ed
When yr love is come
Toot toot
Damn ***** ate my dog.
Then haemin’s yr Ass:
Love is a silly thing
Fancying that
All over the place
And to die
Of a broken Heart, ja, ja ja.
Hey captain¡ Hey captain¡
My arm chaplain is incapable.
Hey Captain¡ Hey Captain¡
I think we’re gonna cum
In the twinkling of an eye:
The end of the love
Lies inside you¡
Do you know Do you see:
All lovers are Rapier pigs
bastard Gentlemen of rape
Looking out at all rissoles
In the churches’ streets
& saying:
” let me darkle
Or let me daze”.
With Langston Huges’ motto
As we live and learn:
“Dig and be dug
In return”
No more Love Poem
Darkly Vampire.
Carry me to Yr Black Ritual
Of bloody Love
Leaning lip-poised.
We tremble to receive
The darkly ****ing Eucharistic
To touch Perceive
Touch Explore
And yet with utmost Sinful care
Slide Melt
Devour.
The *****Cock
And Chicken
In the head of lustful night
Carry me.
A dog’s day
It’s not that I’m lonely I like the beauty of the landscape
without having anyone to interrupt my thoughts, telling
me how nice it is.
My dog sees my mini-Savannah as enemy territory
barks and birds take flight leave her in the car with
open the window and try to take a few pictures.
We are going out for lunch, my wife and me, food
is not as great as nature, golden grain and green vines
it is about forks and knives looking decorous talking
about nothing and chewing in silence
The door to the yards is ajar so the dog can go into
the living room when we are out.
She pretends to be distraught it is an act, she knows
I will bring her leftovers; when we return, she great us
theatrically, I know she has slept on the sofa, drinking
water in the loo and barking at noises outside.
S K Y
in my pocket holds
eu
PHO
ric elves who
forgot they need to plant
pumpkins and peas
s ~ K ~ y
Y
y
in my pocket lets
l o
O
s E
coloured clouds
landing on
your lap of
aloe aloneness
sky in my pocket weaves
wings on acorn ankles
reminding I can swiftly fly to
macadamia mountains high
sky in my pocket sighs
sunlight, then rains crystal
tropical tears into our empty bucket
to quench a thirsty
Love
She stands beautiful, pride in the sky
The first lady of my countryside
Watching over both town and tide
I'm gonna climb her one more time before I die.
Cast my ashes way up there
High into the Cleveland air
One hard morning still and fair off Rosie
Watch them come driftin' down
Settled now on hallowed ground
Home at last, safe and sound on Rosie
Madly mystical in Summer's glow
Autumn colours enhance her so
The Winter maiden decked out in snow
Flowers in Spring begin again her wonder show
Cast my ashes way up there
High into the Cleveland air
One hard morning still and fair off Rosie
Watch them come a-driftin' down
Settled now on hallowed ground
Home at last, safe and sound on Rosie.
In a graveyard not far from her
Stands a gravestone cherished with care
The last haven my parents share
Maybe my dust in the north wind's gust will carry there.
Cast my ashes way up there
High into the Cleveland air
One hard morning still and fair off Rosie
Watch them come a-driftin' down
Settled now on hallowed ground
Home at last, safe and sound on Rosie.
HEAR ME SING THIS IN CONCERT ON YOUTUBE: Louis Spence. Rosie Song.
ROSIE is the common local name for Roseberry Topping, a hill of 1000 feet
height which dominates our local landscape
THANK YOU
DAISY STAINS
Poor Daniel, so nice
Even when he was young
He made his bed
On telephone directories.
At the foot of his bed
Hanging from the ceiling
A Serrano ham
That cured at the end of winter.
His mattress looked like a hammock
From so much masturbation
That his mother thought it was
Because he brought to his bed
His best friend's daughter
Whose name is Grindelia Pulchella.
When his mother asked him
What those yellow stains were
That covered the sheets
He answered
That they were from the daisies
That he and his friend's daughter
Happily plucked the petals from
In a game of "he loves me, he loves me not"
Laughing out loud.
One day, when a glow
His mother saw leaving her room
She entered and saw her son
Putting his own cock
Into the throat of his arsehole
She was amazed
For she thought it measured
A yard and a half
Worthy of enjoying eternal glory.
She, compassionate, said to him:
-Son, I don't know why
Many more maidens don't come to you.
Cheerfully, Daniel answered her:
-Mother, yes they do.
Look how two spheres of asses
Like tailless birds
Who are both called Daisies
Split like watermelons at a glance
Escape through the window.
-Now, son, stay
With the four angels
Who guard your bed
And take care not to hit them
With your cock in the face.
Pink and grey walls rise like castle parapets
Reflecting the sunrise in golden hues
I ride along the canyon to the sound of leather
Creaking softly in the tranquil mountain air
Sweat and horse, with layers of dust
Well worn jeans against a speckled hide
Gently swaying in a unified rhythm
Languidly haze swirling about our feet
Around the bend we startle snow geese
Flocks floating, rising, settling serenely
Angling, landings against the lapping waters
Black tipped wings against wintry white
Sandhill cranes foraging for cutthroat trout
Reflecting blue beside the meandering creek
Majestically standing, patiently waiting
Blue dragon flies dancing within their reach
Off the beaten path we wander
Past yucca swaying in the breeze
O’er grama blue as sky beneath us
Cushioned carpet of pine and peat
Rock squirrels scurry across a Douglas fir
Scolding woodpeckers on a burnt oak tree
The chorus is merged by the hoot of an owl
And the clip clop against rocks as we proceed
Canopies of piñon line the trail
Mixtures of conifer shade the landscape
Grey blue greens with clusters of sienna
Cathedral spiritual within an ageless solitude