Long Infant Poems
Long Infant Poems. Below are the most popular long Infant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Infant poems by poem length and keyword.
Since the begining of days when my heart became an advocate of concrete paths, I have
come to understand the joys that are unprecipitated fears and the fears that are purpose.
For so long I have adapted to the muddy waters that breed beautiful roses with thorns of
such pure poison. Taking into my lungs the fresh air, this same air that is only fresh with the
will of foul principle, yet some how law. Speaking the language that has no sound and
somehow it is always too loud for its own good. Induction in the chase for things that keep
my temperature down in the summer while making the atmosphere a little warmer. Like
something chilly for my wrist ,neck, ears and hands. In the most artic of winters things that
keep me warm like having a personal zoo, mink, chinchilla, fox, rabbit, beaver, and ostich
and yet winters are still so cold. Realizing that somehow winters burn the soul, as summers
tend to freeze the heart. Love is the sound of nature and its remeberance of present. Eagles
scream through the air, colts break the pavement with 38 and 45 calibers of pressure. The
floating of land crafts with special made wheels, stars, spokes, claws, blades, all in chrome
reflecting the spite of happiness in this life. Delicate feminims that perform the sweetest of
actions with the audacity to control the wheather of man. Sunny days, cloudy months, and
years of storm. Pleasure is found everywhere and yet it is never found, so pain is the
blessing of that same pleasure seeked. With each passing day I appear cleaner, except for
my work related smudges(from the parkway to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the
community). All the things I want I have and still I have nothing. Today has been here a
thousand times and only once,tomorrow will pass as yesterday returns. This is where the
truest kisses come from angels, yet the only blessings are from the breath of the demon.
This is home, the city of hustle in the divided states of atrocity. So much passionate turmoil,
so much un-affordable affection that is afforded by price and un-conditional purpose. As the
tears of an infant blend with the crying of the clouds this waters brings hope of a changed
existence. One that is the best life, not heaven or hell, not paradise, but life as it could be,
life in a drop...a single drop... Of Rain Water! Live, Suffer, Celebrate!
Form:
She said that this man, my grandfather,
held her head under the black pool water,
while up above, a German man leaned
out of his window, against the moss and brick
to scream violently: "Don't hurt that woman!
She is the most beautiful woman in the world!"
The tone of the man's voice, authoritative, cold
broke my grandfather's concentration and he
let her bob up to the surface, coughing, sputtering
in an almost drowned manner, while still maintaining a beauty uncommon to humans, as she stole a quick glance
to the heavens of heavens to acknowledge the saving
power of a stranger.
This is her story today, as she sits on three moth-eaten,
velvet pillows to make her tall enough to reach the kitchen table.
She has shrunk in her old age and is no longer "the most beautiful woman
in the world".
She sips her black coffee out of Russian demitasse cups with diamond emblems
until she reaches the grinds which have slept in warmth on the bottom,
to fool her, she thinks.
She nibbles her white toast with butter and honey and shivers in the air conditioning as royalty should.
When she has filled the remaining ten percent of her stomach (the other ninety percent was removed from the worry
of ulcers when technology was in it's infant stage), she continues her story.
It lasts all afternoon and twists and winds around the basic sub-plot that, somehow, her beauty and dignity was
acknowledged in the worst circumstances, and, with her infinite wisdom, the world was made a better place.
Her voice soaks into the wooden cabinets, and will remind me forever of strong, fresh-brewed coffee, and I think,
right at that moment as I look at my hands (which I know will resemble hers one day), that I miss my grandfather.
The most gentle man in the world, whose thoughts never amounted to more than wanting to garden well, or shape
the perfect pizza in his pizza shop.
This man, who set chairs on tables to clear the floor before he danced in pure Zorba the Greek manner, with a glint in
his innocent eyes.
This man, who looked at this woman, this fabricating, self-absorbed, once beautiful woman, with an adoration never
deserved.
I clean up the dishes, while still listening, and kiss her good bye on her forehead.
Jittery from stories caffeinated and old, I chose to walk the long way home, lightening my mood and shedding her
words along the way.
(following on figurative heals
sans, l'amour,
i.e.,and that bastard conception
of life, liberty, and the
pursuit by George - Marshall ling, Grant
ting, and Bing Frank.)
Expectant motherhood generates aurorean
sonogram x-ray zooms
bringing developed fetus
healthily shimmering viz,
quasi hologram seen
glowing halo, inducing
jubilant kickstarter lil bean,
administering capitalone
earthlinked joyful lyft,
natural pheromone readying cerulean
tommorrows, venerated ecstacy doth gleam
zinging bounteous
dizzying feelings hormones houseclean
jackanapes leviathon nestling
pinterestinly interocean
reaching terminus vista
xing zee birth canal mien
doctor readies Fallopian tube cutting
helping jiggle little nymphean
possibly ranking...
as future topnotch venerated Olympian
fast forward to joyful loving neuro
logically plain resplendent teen
knee weeny tiny
vaunted expanding zing
baby dripping Vasoline
like goo fully gesticulating
happy jolly newborn.
Which miracle whipped
purely by chance
given reason to the most orthodox
to sing and dance,
sans said singular biological
phenomenon does enhance
freshly minted parents,
or the mommas
and papas genetic
copy wrought grants
who already passed along
to a brood of offspring
gushing with excitement
akin to fire hydrants
spewing forth fountain head
treasuring such Kodak moment,
cuz such instance
and subsequent tender
wonderful blessed
Instamatic reverent cherished instants
will zip at greased lightening
via speeding hurled lance
sing remembrance of things past
during twilight years,
an eye blink those yesterdays,
when my troubles seemed so far away
and upon being centenarian,
doddering fogie gripping hold,
hugging intensely, indubitably decrying
how quickly of
decades long ex pants
didst elapse, when tendering
to a coliciky, finicky,
inscrutably lemony snickety offspring
wishing infant would grow up already,
now onset of autonomy
Das Agean sea sunned
father or mother
hood doth rants
at father time, he doth access
without a word an excel lent
power point demonstration
with near vertical line brevity
of how mortality slants.
Pre-chorus #2: You turned out to be so mean…you were so heartless… (you
make me feel like nothin’…make me feel like someone…somethin’ – your words
pierced me like a pin on the floor)
I’m not haunted by your callous night…don’t pick a fight (with me…we were
innocent like a newborn infant)
Our friendship oath is pure and full of reverence –
Then, all of the sudden, you make my heart thump with bewilderment
Our love was genuine before you discarded it with revilement…we need to seek
repentance
You owe me – pay off your debts now…how I loathe your resentment!
Chorus: Ahhhh….Stop being a tease…
Ahhhh….Being a tease…(my heart broke into two)
Ahhhh….Here’s a wound to mend
Ahhhh….Please, put my mind at ease
Ahhhh….You don’t see me, nearing my end…
Ahhhh….Nearing my end…(you’re left without a clue)
Pre-chorus: I thought your grass was green…I’m hopeless… (Oh funny, I
thought you were a good person…I was there for you through thick and thin –
you do not love me anymore)
I’m through with you...you…tonight…I long for God’s light (to shed on me…we
were in content & we were pleasant)
You turned out to be so mean…you were so heartless… (you make me feel like
nothin’…make me feel like someone…somethin’ – your words pierced me like a
pin on the floor)
I’m not haunted by your callous night…don’t pick a fight (with me…we were
innocent like a newborn infant)
Chorus: Ahhhh….Stop being a tease…
Ahhhh….Being a tease…(my heart broke into two)
Ahhhh….Here’s a wound to mend
Ahhhh….Please, put my mind at ease
Ahhhh….You don’t see me, nearing my end…
Ahhhh….Nearing my end…(you’re left without a clue)
Give me an excuse or a reason
To overcome these waves of emotions
Friends come and go like season to season
Dealing with vile clashing commotions
We landed on a dead end –
falling victim to regret!
I don’t mean to offend…
Bu we must pay up emotional debt
Our friendship oath is pure and full of reverence…we must accept that we all
need help, going through this circumstance – (we met in a odd place out of the
blue)
Then, all of the sudden, you make my heart thump with bewilderment
Our love was genuine before you casted it away with cold-blooded malice and
discontent…we need to seek repentance (I got to really talk some sense into
you)
You owe me – pay off your debts now…how I loathe your resentment!
Amethyst shades dazzle her mysteriousness
hiding black secrets in vulnerable mellows
though recognized in the forgotten marshes
she's said to possess dark onyx powers.
She smiles at lost passersby in the red valley
aware of the myths bubbling beneath wet soil
and they disappear in unexplored forests
seemingly safer than her uncharted evil mind
every full moon augments her fragrance they say
her Carmen blooms to entrap innocent souls.
A thousand false alarms wrapped in assumptions
for they'd never know she's a trampled magnolia
tattered spirits in frayed rags was all she had
dried oceans of scarlet tears in enclaves of fears
humanity died on a full moon night under heavy breaths
her weakened screams muted with lustful arms
blurred visions of a forced conviction in blood
her faint shrieks died in this swamp of tragedies
till her blood froze beneath slumbering snow.
Her burning spirit simmered mauve mists
slimy seeds sprouted the dirty green marshes
spring bloomed her courage to recollect storms
crushed to sprinkle colors on heavenly topanga
diamonds in her mind shimmer as she laughs
sending ripples of valor in perturbed oceans
embracing her flaws she sings a folk melody
trances of whispers blended in mellow symphony
legends of crimson valley float with her flute
a goddess calming oppressed souls to breathe
they've heard stories of sapphires burning
splashing colors of freedom and kindness
but all they see on drooping moonless nights
her pious caricature coming alive in dark
magenta petals blooming in layered fog of storms
turning mauve then scarlet glittering ruby
spreading wings from green marshes perfumed flowers
on elevators of courage to save scarred souls
infant butterflies arise in lilac hues of whispering hopes.
July 4, 2020
A Contest About a Goddess or God - Not THE God Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
~Winner: 1st Place
butter flies and marshes mellow Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
~Premiere Contest Winner: 2nd Place
I patiently wait for the return of his presence,
The return of a man whom I've once loved
And to this day my memories with him,
Completes me and helps me to believe
That there is nothing wrong with the way I feel,
And the passionate future that I can see
Let me explain how he made me feel,
Wrapped in silk was the feel of his touch
A nice hot shower was the feel of his love,
The innocence of an infant was the look in his eyes
And it's breaking me to pieces, I mean it tears me to size,
The comfort and understanding I felt with him
And the dreams I share at night with him,
And the love I have inside for him
And nothing else matters, nothing ever could,
I'm not sure how but I fell inlove and I will wait forever
Cause forevers not too long if he's promised to me,
As long as I'm able to hold him again
And make sweet love to him again,
To touch him like no one ever could again
And then make sense to what we've just done,
So I could stare in his eyes and tell him how I feel
And break down that brick wall we built within eachother,
Even if it's for nothing, he's worth finding out
Then the pain will slowly subside,
And the tears will quickly fade to black
And him being gone will only be a memory,
That we will no longer have to look back on
This is how I feel for this man,
And no one knew how that would make me feel
The risk with love I will take for this man,
And the barriers that I may face
But who said loving would be easy,
And that it would'nt hurt much
That you would'nt blindly do things for love,
That you never before thought you do
And that I would'nt cry to say goodbye,
Everytime we have to part
Cause no matter how he loses,
He's still in first place
Still the only man I wake up crying for,
Still the only man worth dying for
Yet still no onther man can conquer how I feel for him,
Dear: Jon Doe,
I know I may have been acting real strange lately
But it's really not your fault,
Love has made me bitter again
So now it's time to ease the pain,
And in him I see the recovery
To face this world with these scars,
To tell them my battle with love
And how many time I've lost the war,
But I wont rush things this time
And place that burden on his shoulders,
But love him like I said I would
Sincerely Yours, Delilah
Copyright 2007
Love Aligns
Of names given at birth, one blooms special.
Mary seems to me a popular name.
Common folks and royalty likewise called.
But no two named Mary are quite the same.
A young girl named Mary lived righteously.
By God she was favored, is history.
She willingly bore God's begotten son.
Obscure to man…virgin birth mystery.
Infant queen, Mary of Scotland, betrothed,
Had escaped Henry the Viii rough wooing.
Life's whirlwinds, deaths and romance havocked her life.
Politics sent beheading ensuing.
Mary Read of Devon County, England
Surrounded by death, raised as a boy.
Captured by pirates of the Caribbean Sea,
Became a pirate herself, lived wild joy.
Mother and Daughter, writers named Mary,
Mary Wollstonecraft, swayed by T. Paine, wrote
"A Vindication of the Rights of Woman," (1792)
The thoughts of a mother, by death made remote.
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, sweet sixteen,
Strong spirited, influenced by her mom
Left home to be Percy's mistress…outcast.
Sorrows in life are Frankenstein's where-from.
Mary Anning, a woman paleontologist,
Prepared fossils from Jurassic era beds.
Well-known by geologists, financially poor,
Put new ideas in scientific thinkers heads.
Famous women named Mary nowadays abound.
From Mary Anne on Gilligan's Island
To Mary Poppins flying through the air.
Each Mary, in her own way has some life brightened.
All of the women I have presented herein.
Have one thing in common: strength and chagrin.
But, there is not one Mary I read about or met.
Whose loves like my grandmother's was fashioned.
She, was a woman of strength, strong will, and *****.
But, tenderly, she comforted many a tear.
Teaching young children from her sewing machine,
She consistently worked to keep family near.
She offered fresh fruit from the family tree.
I know her sweetness from Heaven shines.
Without her love, I wonder where I would be.
When I hear the name Mary, love aligns.
© July 17, 2010
REFERENCES:
1. Mary Queen of Scots: http://www.rampantscotland.com/famous/blfammqos.htm
2. Famous Pirate: Mary Read: http://www.thewayofthepirates.com/famous-pirates/mary-read.php
3. Mary Wollstonecraft & Mary Shelley: http://classiclit.about.com/od/wollstonecraftmary/a/
aa_famousmother.htm
4. Mary Anning: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Anning
Sherri Mitchell invites us all
to gather more cooperatively in our search to avoid
once again in this Fifth Extinction MultiGeneration,
the entitled
privileged
win/lose colonizing
leftbrain dominant potential patriarchal terrorist
lurking within
our climate darkening ego identity.
How do I sabotage my more benignly intending self
repeatedly into predative win/lose games-manship?
How do I hate my lose/lose mortal degenerating nature/spirit Body,
And reject my own physical/mental
ego-natural/eco-spiritual
fragment/interdependent
universal/unitarian bicameral individuation?
A lifetime process of co-acclimation within EarthTribe
secular metamorphic transmutation
of sacred transubstantiating spirits
of win/win
left/right
dipolar co-arising
inform/exflow binomial correlation;
creative appositions
We all,
Mitchell responds to her own question
strangely
prophetically before she asks it,
following an Industrial leftbrain-dominant Revolution
leading away from rightbrain win/win
more organically compassionate moments,
In which we, more domestically together,
possess harmonic left/right States
of cooperative understanding
climate YangLight
and YinDarkness
infant/womb nondual potential fecundity
ego/eco-co-acclimating inside/outside attachment
primal connectivity
ego-interdependent win/wins overpowering win/lose detachments,
from our co-creative
re-creating win/win cooperative health development
caregiving/receiving communal green ego/ecological abilities.
Our metaphysical question,
Why me; Everything ZeroSum,
and not just nihilistic Zero-NothingCore?
Is not just why growing healthy consumers
developed robust competitive EarthMarkets,
but also how we co-productively show up
most powerfully to meet this depleting nutritional time
in which we lose to climate monoculturalism
We are most egotistically invested in
when not interdependently win/win
bicamerally conscious internal DNA multi-regenerational cultures
resisting win/lose predative climate-death trends.
How do we invite cooperative dialogue
rather than trigger competitive debate,
mere empty theoretical words?
Devoid of heartfelt rightbrain compelling experience
deeply learning through our win/win mutually co-invested actions
not of win/lose leftbrain entitlement
but of win/win interdependent engagement.
I am the bird that is in the cage
choosing to fly in the enormous sky
I am not a avaricious of liberation and exhale
Only deciding to display some absurdity
act the absurdity and live the absurdity
But, why my steps are barricaded by the boundaries
Only wishing to surface some absurdity
act the absurdity and live the absurdity
I am the teeny infant that is in the cot
Wishing to walk and cripple in this earth
I am not the avaricious of dependency and assistance
Only wishing to expand my limbs somehow
act the wandering and roaming
But why my each approaches are ceased by the anxieties
Only wishing to stretch my limbs somehow
do the wandering and roaming
I am a bud that is on the calyx
Wishing to bloom in this beautiful atmosphere
I am not the greedy of beauty and delight
only wishing to disperse my essence to all
Bliss others with my charm
But, why i am decayed by fog, frost and mist
Only wishing to disperse my fragrance to all
Bliss others with my charm
I am the girl child of my parent
Wishing to show courtesy and do my responsibility
i am not the greedy of praiseworthiness
only wishing to do my duty, i must
do what my heart says and my obligations
but why this social rituals and traditions are pushing my behind
Only wishing to do my duty and what i must
Do what my heart says
i am the citizen of this nation
Wishing to do some reformations and dynamism
I am not greedy of name, fame and popularity
Only wishing to do what an individual must
Do what i feel right and i don't care if others don't
But why this country is not acknowledging my tries and activities
Only because i am a girl not a boy of this patriarchal society
Or a victim of this already corrupted society that always drags me behind
i feel shame for this, even in this present century
our country is the slave of this belief
I am the freedom fighter, i do not say that
I am the reformer who brings changes, i do not say that
i am not the revolutionary person who brings revolution
I am only the simple girl who has big dream in her eyes
who has also the right to dream, the dream of happiness and success
i am the ordinary girl with some expectations
who has right to fulfill her desires
i am the girl who wishes to live and do her task in her own way
But why i am tossed among such conditions, why??
“The World’s Playground”
"Ring around the roses. Ring around the roses".
Jack the ripper, he slept with a whore, and became deadly ill
Awhile his wife Jill became suicidal dependent on the Prozac pill
Mother Goose lost all four of her children it was easy to ignore.
She was too busy being a **** star it was hardcore.
One had his brains fried. One died from electric shock.
One survived to an infant to be killed on the block
Last became involved in gambling, a financial debt he can’t pay
The mob sent the goose a bleeding red box saying happy birthday.
Welcome to our playground. The world is such a joy.
Every girl and every boy is a playgirl or playboy.
We have candy, video games, lollipop, and teens
We have Drugs, sex, alcohol, slaves, and atm machines
By raising the right hand shouting upon the witness stand
This is zappy land, this is zippy land, this is the zingy land.
Sparrow and Fly killed Cock Robin with a ball and chain
In a black pond the fish devoured the bird’s brains
Old Grandma once had delicious pie the night when Crow Man came.
She then had two children who took her life’s blame.
Hansel became a business man who took people’s homes.
Baba Yaga pimped Gretel on the streets of Rome.
Hansel lost his control. He cooked his old hag.
Gretel was cut opened killed by a douchbag.
“Girls and boys, come out to play,
The [stars] doth shine as bright as day;”
Leave your families, don’t be discreet,
“And come with your [fellows] into the street.”
Little children holding hands, "ring around the rosy".
Children dancing gleefully "with pockets full of posies".
Happily they burn the days away. "Ashes, ashes".
Going through life, "we all fall down".
Welcome to our playground. The world is such a joy.
Every girl and every boy is a playgirl or playboy.
We have candy, video games, lollipop, and teens
We have Drugs, sex, alcohol, slaves and atm machines
This is happy land, this is happy land, this is happy land.
Welcome to our playground. The world is such a joy.
Every girl and every boy is a Playgirl or playboy.
We have candy, video games, lollipop, and teens
We have Drugs, sex, alcohol, slaves, and atm machines
This is happy land, this is happy land, this is happy land.
This is the place to be.
"Ashes. Ashes. We all fall down".
Form: