Long Its Poems
Long Its Poems. Below are the most popular long Its by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Its poems by poem length and keyword.
When will we awake to the damage
surely we can see the errors
the harm we are doing or will
we stick our heads in the sand
like blind folks and wait for doom.
.
People are like sheep following sheep
not stopping to think just acting
not seeming to realise we kill
this beautiful earth that we
are supposed to look after.
All of us need what nature
does for all of us
The sky that gives us
both rain and sunshine
the moon that lightens dark.
But be aware of the damage
that we inflict daily
with our plunder of resources
not stopping to care
that they are not limitless
That we are polluting the air
slowly suffocating everything
plunging every living thing
into peril for without plants
we cannot keep balance
I cry out to all to change
so that we can leave
An inheritance to our kin
instead of leaving them
a dying earth
Poet: Otieno Elvis Gikoi
Pen : el.oti.gi...
Now its me and you but nothing between us
Remember the times when the conversation would last for hours
Remember the moments when we would talk about the most random stuff
All that is now gone the way that sand leaves my palms
Now its me and you but nothing between us
Remember the instances when you would understand my words even without me uttering them
Remember the memories when we would stay awake late at night just smiling with each other
All that is now gone the way that water dries up in the drought
Now its me and you but nothing between us.
[email protected]
Why don't people lichen mold?
Is it cause they are afraid of growing expediential old?
Afterall Atum gave birth to Tefnut and Shu through the breath.
In breath lies the prefect breeding ground of moisture and air.
Then its not odd, but you ought to have mold.
Given the daily bread, my skin part of my body is comforted by mold.
Can the mold help shape and mold me better?
Just refueling my eternal furnace too keep awake the cold.
Sacrificing everything, that's bold!
Walking around the forest with a mesh bag.
Trying to fit in by being a fungi.
Just remember not to make a mountain out of a mole hill.
But ain't that life?
Understanding cellular biology through the lens of Venn diagrams.
Segregating, separating and dividing as long as the cell walls hold.
Mixing in hot water with tea, sugars, and a cold scoby.
Gives rise to the kombucha below.
Folding mold spores into a battleground for the strongest mold.
Under the watchful eye of EinRaa behold.
As I smile and shine transmuting lead to gold.
Sold - Sold - Sold!
I really can't understand
How holding a lovers hand
Can cause so much controversy
It doesn't seem right to me
That if its a couple of
The opposite sex in love
There is no problem when they
Are together, It's O.K.
But when it's the same gender
Wanting to cuddle so tender
There is anger and violence
WHY ???? It don't make any sense
Let them live in peace and not
Trample on their fragile heart
With words and looks that are vicious
All love should be treated precious
Its everyone's right to know
The way a strong love can grow
Into something true and pure
If you don't like it-- just ignore
The things your about to say
Shut up and just walk away
Magical winter and truly prodigious place of grace.
Pleasant poetic pleasure with a trace of lace.
Youthful eidetic memories chasing snow-white flakes.
Children engage in its white undisturbed lace.
Tats lace patterns on windows, charismatic in its grace.
Frost, ice, and snow stir to life in rhythmic music decorative flakes.
Winters kiss, a bitter frigid wind, and occasional flakes.
Obliging artistic talent, pride, and grace.
Seductive, picturesque heaven, sculpted pristine lace.
Absent from winters white lace flakes, to crackling warm fires grace.
2/22/2019
Poetry Contest: A Tritina For Messina
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
A Dream at its Voyage
A dream is swimming across the ocean of my sleep,
which I had weaved in my heart long ago.
It is faltering like a lonely wave,
that finds no shores.
It feels weary and cannot wend anymore...
Ho! It is drowning into
the unknown depths in the darkness.
No! It cannot perish in the halfway of its voyage.
Will there be sunrays to show the way in its desolation?
Will there be a bright dawn to begin again the new path?
It wanted to reach the shores of fame,
It wanted to blossom like a Wild Rosemary.
Hey, gain back your vigor and swim hard.
You were born not to submerge in the sufferings,
but to fly up in the sky with your endowed wings!
About This Poem
It's In The Jeans
The young man stood at the bus stop waiting for the bus
Along came the sexiest looking young lady he ever saw
She had on tight, stretched blue denims that marked her curves
Her shape was as the Coca Cola bottle as the saying goes
“Hi princess, can I be of any assistance to get your jeans off
I can imagine it will be a challenge for you without some help”
Smiling and blushing the young lady pass her hands over her hips
Letting the young man imaginations run wild like wild stallions
The bus came and he let her go up ahead of him, like a gentleman
She went into the nearest seat, he sat beside her claiming his territory
“So, may I come home with you so we can discard this intrusion to your beauty?”
“Well, since you ask so nicely and you are such a gentleman, of course you may”
They got off at her stop and she led the way to her apartment’s door
His eyes never leaving her blue denim clad sexy voluptuous curves
What a treat I have tonight he thought, I will make her want me over and over
I will slowly peel off that tight blue jeans while kissing every inch of her
“Can I get you something to drink,” she ask. “Yes, may I have a cold beer please?”
He sips his beer, she her tonic wine, while they try to get more acquainted
With every word he says he draws closer, destroying the space between them
Finally he touches her, peeling the jeans away, the prize within his grasp
He is kissing her all over her face, lips and neck. Not looking from the face down
Suddenly he looked to where his hands were busy. Hello! He is thinking. Where
are all the curves?
What is this I am seeing? All the loose skin kept in by the tight blue sexy denim was
hanging
Things did fall apart, all pun intended, because the young man ran like the devil was
after him
You came out of nowhere
And left me,
gasping for air.
I cant remember how to breathe.
Everyone tells me it’s not healthy,
(to need someone so much).
But God,
I just love you so f-ing much.
There is a little itch in the back of my brain.
I keep clawing at it.
My fingers are bleeding and tears are welling up in my eyes.
But, I know,
You are the only one who can touch it.
And without you its there forever.
A constant reminder of what I’ve lost.
You walk around in my thoughts,
And i’m trapped.
Trapped in my own mind.
Calling out your name and begging for you to save me.
You’re burning in my bloodstream.
This white hot heat in my throat won’t leave.
Why wont I wake up from this dream?
No, this nightmare..
I’m so scared.
I never wanted to be alone,
At least I was alone with you.
What your eyes see is a glass half empty,
What my eyes see is a drink that's plenty,
And after I drink, I can always refill,
Even if I drop it and happen to spill,
I'm clumsy, ya know, but see God already knew,
That even if I spill or share it, it's just something I do,
So he keeps an extra supply just in case,
I trip over my own feet, or give it away,
Because he's my supply and no one can take,
And if I choose to share, it was meant to be given away,
I'm not greedy, no not at all,
Because I trust he'll fill my glass even if I fall,
So pass it around, take a sip,
Its not the glass you see, Its what consists inside of it!
Roses have bloomed colorful, wearing
A symphony of red, white, and pink.
Gardenia and Jasmine pose in white,
Butterflies are fluttering in delight.
Insects are pollinating flowering trees
Devouring nectar, a fee for the service.
Apple flowers, pretty in pink and white.
Purple peach flowers, an enchanting sight.
The fig trees nearby have flowers too
Greenish blossoms hidden from view
The tiny buds, look like fruits indeed!
In fact, they're inverted flowers within.
Flowers' aroma attracts female wasp
Eager to lay eggs, as romance begins
Inside the Syconium of a male flower.
A mutualism yearning for symbiosis.
Baby wasps will soon mature
The siblings will mate with each other
Wingless males will die, females will fly
In a hurry with the pollen they carry
Searching new male flowers to breed.
Female flowers exude a special scent
Tricking the wasp to shimmy in the stem,
A one way street to death sentence.
Female flowers pollinate, don't reciprocate
No place for the wasp to lay its eggs.
Having lost its wings, it dies for a cause
The flowers in time digest the dead wasp
And grow into a ripened fruit we call fig.
Just this one time, mutualism lost its grip.