Long Indulge Poems
Long Indulge Poems. Below are the most popular long Indulge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Indulge poems by poem length and keyword.
Acquiescing to its allure,
you surrender your heart to love.
And, relinquishing innocence,
indulge in sexual pleasures.
Desire inflames your libido;
igniting smoldering embers.
And passion burns within your heart,
free of doubt, pretense, and deceit.
Sweaty bodies tightly entwine,
tangled in this moment in time.
And they experience feelings,
that approach pure exaltation!
Extraordinarily superb,
sex just keeps on getting better!
And within this fantasy dream,
happiness and pleasure abound.
Trust fuels two hopeful hearts on
their journey of exploration.
And sharing intimate movements,
each touch is dually enjoyed.
If I could do most anything
A week to have for my very own?!
I'd put away the mop and broom!
The paper work would have to wait!
No rush to work, ....so what if late?
I'd put my chores upon the shelf
I'd sleep in late, perhaps till noon
I'd take the car out for a ride
I'd walk about the countryside
And lay along the riverbank
And toss some sticks, and take a swim
And ride my bike, and play some pranks
Eat peanut butter with loads of jam
And make mud pies....because I can!
And watch the ducks and geese that gather
Those ticking clocks?....Ignore....I'd rather!
I'd sit out in the sun that gleams
Among the trees I'd lie and dream
I'd head back home, and whistle songs
I'd make a call and right some wrongs
I'd take a nap and eat a snack
Then put music on and do a dance
I'd take a good book from the shelf
Curl up and indulge myself
A mom like me who hovers...races...
To keep the pace, going places
Helping, filling needs of many faces
Never has alone time...spaces
So one week's worth of self indulgence
Sounds like bliss...could it exist??
Perhaps I should find a great disguise...
Would that be wise? Go undercover...
Just a week, sounds quite resplendent...
Just as long as it's not forever....
“When Harry Met Sally’s” most memorable scene
Was filmed in this eatery, where
Pastrami and corned beef are piled high on rye –
Indulge, if your arteries dare.
But here I’ll impart a sage word of advice:
Your ticket allows you to leave;
Misplace it or lose it and tsurris* awaits –
There’ll be trouble like you won’t believe!
You see, when you enter, a ticket’s proffered
And they punch in the price for your food;
That’s in case you line up at the counter buffet
Where the choices are there to be viewed.
If you sit at a table where waiters attend,
Then you still need the ticket to pay;
But my order was added to that of my friend,
Which we both thought was really okay.
So we got on the line where we’d settle the bill
And they asked for my ticket as well.
I’d left it behind, but our table was filled
With some just-seated starved clientele.
But somehow, my ticket was brought to the front
And they let me walk out of the door.
It’s lucky for me or I’d still be inside,
Washing dishes or mopping the floor.
There’s a lesson to learn – get the lay of the land
When you’re someplace you don’t know so well;
Or perhaps a distraction is what you can use
And, like Sally, just let out a yell.
*Yiddish for aggravation
Ask for good heart, ask for fond mind;
Note kind beauty, note face comely;
Now shapes and start, now blooms and glows.
Etch fine story, etch thoughts pretty:
Touch of pure bliss, touch of old soul;
Affluence of mind, affluence of good;
Niche of wise peace, niche of sheer whole.
Meet precious find, meet wondrous mood;
Urge in fond touch, urge in fine grace;
Indulge passion, indulge rebound;
Live more and much, live love and trace;
Inspire fashion, inspire profound;
Abide in peace, abide in grace;
Note feisty ease, note mindful face.
Leon Enriquez
03 January 2015
Singapore
Prime Minister’s Question Time
That Wednesday morning farce
That starts with the sycophants
Verbally kissing the Premier’s ****,
Followed by the Opposition Leader
Who begs and implores
Answers to his questions
Which the Prime Minister ignores,.
To indulge in propaganda
And very personal attack
When the Opposition Leader
Vey quickly bites back.
Those present in the House
All bay, yell and scream like fools
In way that would bring exclusion
From most decent primary schools.
Democracy in action
There for all to see
The Parliamentary equivalent
Of the The Goon Show on TV
Prime Minister’s Question Time
A misnomer indeed
Behaviour more fitting those
High on skunk, roofies or weed.
A most unedifying spectacle
But thats just how it looks
When any nation is led by
Hypocrites, spivs and crooks.
The honourable resignation
A thing of the long long past
As those in power cling on
Until the very very last.
And loyalty is rewarded,
When the opportunity affords,
By the lifetime sinecure of
A seat in the House of Lords.
We treat politicians with deference
In a manner that confounds
Forgetting they work for us
And not the other way around.
Whichever does be the season, my soul feels always the earthly tremors
Why, always does it yearn for these bouts of divine fevers
See, spring does come and brings with it those newly budded flowers
Roses then blossom and say to me, already are you and the divine lovers!
Summer then shows its nose around the corner
And its warmth and coziness over my head do hover
Why, how lovely to feel the sunshine on my skin
How lovely indeed, to feel the cool sea water up to my chin
Autumn does come along and does be my favorite
Why, the cold air does give me, of my own melancholy, a good treat
Yearn I still for the strong arms of that celestial lover
Yearn I for Him and wish I he would just appear around the corner
And winter does come along, bringing with it, the runny noses and the coughs
Even if I do try, no more can i indulge in loud laughs
Warming me does be my poetry, my ode to my muse
My celestial love, the one to chill us all with this cold breeze
The seasons do come and go, each year they do repeat themselves
My life do I live, ignore I that I am human, taking myself to be like the elves
But then, my love does be constant, my love does be not seasonal
Yes, trod I my way through Earth, hoping someday to be among the celestial!
3 April 2016
Break Free (original).
I decline to be bathed in abject defeat, I intend to break free.
My endeavour isn’t dead, intellect serves as a panacea for me
My muse and I must find impassioned advocacy to meet.
I intend to break free, I decline to be bathed in abject defeat.
The solution I submit, it will be extraordinary and unconventional.
A dramatic escape from all restrictions unintentional.
Break Free Opposing.
I adore to be bathed in glorious acclaim, I intend to indulge.
I feel so securely alive, my brain can’t divulge.
My muse and I cannot agree and will only cause deceit.
I intend to remain, I am going to accept hideous conceit.
There’s no solution, it will be mundane and true to convention.
A sorrowful surrender to all chains and detention.
If I must be a slave, let it be a slave to self-control. Let me be obsessed by perseverance. Let me indulge in discipline and determination.
If I must be consumed, let me be consumed by love and compassion. Let me be dominated by hope and infatuated with holy, honorable, and righteous thinking.
If I must live, let me live with passion. Let me step out with courage. Let me speak with gentleness, but also with authority and fervor.
Let me pray with earnest and zeal. Let me breathe in each moment with gratitude and let my light shine with intensity and joy. Let me swallow up each experience as a child does, as I'm seeing it for the first time.
Let faith and wisdom be my guides. And let God be my rock, my strength, and my salvation!
Hot corn bread and cold beer are waiting
for a finger to clack the ultimate picture perfect;
it could be the best abstract painting
for that artist running out of ideas and simply fret,
but after a while inspiration bubbles
and emotion flows as he mumbles!
Were it a stylish gal posing on a beach blanket,
I would fondle her gently and capture her with my charm;
imagination can create a false image of an object
meaning something else, but it can be considered as a whim!
Another perception would be eating hot corn bread,
while we sip cold beer and bury our feet in the sand;
a true temptation to indulge ourselves and laugh!
And chatting and drinking, desires will burn her breath;
on impulse, she will get closer and lead me to lovemaking...
kissing her, I feel the urge on her trembling lips as they become obsessive!
Corn bread sweet as her mouth, satiate my craving by allowing all fantasies!
Cold beer, make me drunk and fulfill her need of woman moaning!
Copyright ( c ) 2015 by Andrew Crisci
The feeling of dread as I hear,
“Come for dinner.”
All I can truly think about:
“How many calories?”
“Will I gain weight?”
I’m truly scared that this is my fate.
Sitting in front of my toilet,
Two fingers stuck down my throat—
It’s a good feeling,
All I can do is boast.
I haven’t eaten in weeks;
It’s not foreign.
Is this really my calling?
They always say to me,
“You need to eat.”
But I don’t want to indulge
Into any delicious treat.
It’s too fattening.
Fat.
It’s my biggest fear to gain those pounds.
It’s scary, so I won’t eat.
After a while I couldn’t eat,
And it led me to no sleep.
Keep.
It’s not hard to keep words like these a secret;
In this world, beauty is all I believe in.
Grievance.
I grieve for the old me,
The one who didn’t care about food troubles,
Or the fact that I want a McDouble.
But I can’t—
I truly can’t.
It’s a struggle to not eat.
I swear it’s killing me.
I can’t stomach it.
I’ll be like this forever...
Well, I’ll just have to dwell in it.