Long Jewelries Poems
Long Jewelries Poems. Below are the most popular long Jewelries by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jewelries poems by poem length and keyword.
What is life without joy and happiness?
what is life without self honour and pride?
Upon this mountain hell i lay every day
Battered and frustrated
A man of sorrow, forsaken
My spirit groans for mercy which failed to come
All is taken away from me including the smallest pin
of what is life without a mother?
painted black and red
I mourn every seconds for that pretty damsel
swifter that the eagle, my heart pounded
Joy whispers sadness in my ears
and tears becomes my friend
In despair i feast and dance sorrowfully
they mock and throw me around like a forbidden coin
men are evil, my spirit moans
Raising my eyes to see my ears
i could tell of their wickedness
my goats, cows and jewelries gone
Hear me evil souls, the nature has its judgment
Once in life, it cometh and it hard to escape
It hard to escape the judgment
look at father native compound
it been taken away by strangers
those who once dance with us
In good fortune and share our breads and barns together
NOw, they are against us in fury
Dare point us in the face and laugh
Hear me old friends, nature has its judgment
The nature has its judgment, beware
In my old age. bitterly i weeps all day
in affliction and harsh labour
my foes had become my masters
the roads to my hut mourns
my compound groans and grieved
None to comfort me, all my friends had betrayed me
All the splendor has departed in the air
this is why i weep and,
my body shivers
My eyes overflow with water
All who pass my way clapped and laughed at me
Enemies open their mouth wide against me
my grieves are many and my heart fainted
i am in torment within, disturbed and distracted
I remembered my wandering and pains
In the dark forest alone
Covered my self with anger
perhaps my father had sinned
And i didn't know and,
we now bore the pains
Getting brad is at my life risk
Because of the sword beneath
look and see our disgrace
Those who pursue us are at our heels
my siblings scattered abroad sorrowfully
No one to caution us and drag us back
Till end i know the earth has it judgments
i shall sing beautifully with joy in other phase of life
when the gate shall open.
ALL RIGHT RESERVED (C) JOHN CHIZOBA VINCENT 2013
PARK AVENUE
I came across Park Avenue in Winter Park, Florida
many years ago, where I flew for my work to examine
a company for following its claims handling process,
procedures and the insurance laws and regulations.
While having lunch near the office, seated outside
in one of the pricey eateries, we noticed this is a
place of great affluence, for the ones with money.
Probably from the north to the south of the Avenue.
We noticed mothers dressed in designers clothes,
carrying designer handbags, strolling their infants
in expensive strollers while going in and out of
high-end boutiques, looking, browsing or buying.
We saw middle-aged women dressed elegantly,
bejeweled with their big designer sunglasses
having sumptuous lunch with their friends in
luxurious cafes, showing off their jewelries.
We decided to roam the Avenue from north to
south one day after work to check it out, go to
the Museum opened in the evening that day,
dine and see a belly dance in a fancy restaurant.
We saw trust fund babies having happy hour,
hanging out or checking out posh boutiques.
Well-dressed men having business meetings
in ritzy restaurants, having cocktails or dinner.
Women wearing couture dresses, attires or
suits admiring the exhibits in the museum.
Well-off families or affluent couples dining and
watching the belly dancer, where we had dinner.
If I want to live in fantasy, this is the place to be.
If I want to forget all my troubles, forget all my
cares, I will imagine this place, a place where
you do not see poverty, homeless, destitute.
Life can be a beach or a beef and when something
turns a little bit beefy, this avenue is the place to
think about for life is pretty beachy in this avenue.
Imagining myself doing what ritzy people love to do.
9/9/21 The Avenue Poetry
Julia Ward
Deep in dust
Lost in the swamp
Drowned by the heavy wind
Left alone to the dark
Left side, there's no hope
And no papa's touch
Then who?
Molded and melted in the truck of hope
And crying to be embraced in Mama's arm
There's no pleasure, there's no pleasure
Lost to the days
Gold and jewelries
Pounds and money
Paper and books
Ink and inks
Lost to the night
The darkness of heart
The pounding of pestles
Embracing tomorrow's joy
There's no pleasure, there's no pleasure
Flaws of the day
Blooming hibiscus
Running desires
So much to the chest
Intent is thy needs
Placed on the brim of rest
And comfort to the soul it brings
Kiss the palm,
For that's all it needs
Rest thy head to the brim
And call in a new day
For blooming hibiscus
There's no pleasure, there's no pleasure
Sun is for the day
Moon for the night
So as summer is for happy kids
And winter, tilling of grounds;
Hardened grounds
The hardness of grounds
The cracking of the tiller
Amiss, it goes to you
Tossing it to the back
And running away from today's pain
There's no pleasure, there's no pleasure
Wine rub with wine
Magnet with magnet
Likes to likes
And odds to odds
But there's no good to this
The bubbling sound
Take a sip from the bitterness of day
Then, the stomach rumbles
Sips and bubbles
Stomach and rumbles
The day is bitter
Deep dark is sweet
Big hugs like hammer
To console the day
There's no pleasure, there's no pleasure
Ironing and straightening
Folded edges to what we want
Big jars,
Empty fillings,
Brushes and brushes,
No oil
Scripted step
For all is nothing
Fetching the anger that is never wanted
And swimming towards the ice till the day is come
There's no pleasure, there's no pleasure.
She's a girl with fashion and passion
Full of life and adventure
She loves her shoes and bags
She loves her custom jewelries
She loves to accessorize her outfits
She loves jumpsuits and long dresses, they shape her taller and flow nicely
She has a passion for nail arts
She loves to paint her own nails
of course to rhyme whatever the season may be
One particular season is her best
... Summer... because she has a passion for the out doors
She loves to fish and ride on her boat
She loves the beach and the ocean
She loves to run and take long walks
She loves to eat summery foods
A chill white wine just tastes better in the summer after a nice long day
And while she's mesmerized with the transition of Fall
She loves to fall back and appreciate
the enchanting beauty Mother Nature display
She loves to go apple picking
She loves to cook and try new recipes daily
Winter is the best for pot roasts and soups
But there's nothing more comforting than sipping on a hot cocoa watching the snow coming down beautifully
Although she's afraid to drive in the snow
But she would love to learn how to ski
She drinks red wine all winter thru spring
It keeps her warm and relaxed
She loves cherries, they're her faves
And while she suffers the spring's allergy
She just love the blooming of flowers, they're the most delicate beautiful things
She's just a girl full of life and adventure
She's all about living the moment
For tomorrow has no promises...
Smile
Akkina R Downing
5-18-17
KEEPSAKE
My Mom Norma, who raised, nurtured and showered
me with endearing love, loved diamonds and why not?
She was an April baby and diamond is the birthstone.
She gave me a diamond ring before she passed away.
My eulogy was composed of poem, short story and
very short song “Norma in the Sky with Diamonds”.
She had also given me several jewelries through the
years when she was younger, stronger and full of life.
I treasure all the jewelries she gave me, as keepsakes.
There is one so special to me, a very special keepsake.
It is a very unusual pendant for I have never seen any
other pendant like it and I always get the same comment,
every time I wear it and also “what a beautiful necklace”.
This very special keepsake I call time glass gold dust.
It is a one inch pendant made of fourteen karat gold,
glass and gold dust or gold powder in the glass shaped
as an hourglass with upper bulb and lower bulb with the
gold dust staying in the bottom bulb when you wear it.
Instead of calling it time glass sand or hourglass or
sandglass, I call it time glass gold dust or secondglass
for when I turn it over, the gold dust goes to the bottom
bulb in a second, as I can only count one, nothing more.
Every time I wear this valuable, special keepsake,
I get compliments and I imagine her happy face,
smiling at me with eyes like diamonds shining so
bright and I hum Norma in the Sky with Diamonds.
9/13/21 "K" Contest, New or Old Poetry
Constance La France
FREEDOM (SLAVERY)
Our pride was taken
Our fate was decided
Our lives was meaningless
We suffered for no reason.
We were separated from our families
We were sold like a piece of clothing
We became slaves due to debts,food and servitudes.
We were beaten, starved, whipped and tortured
We wore chains as if it were the Royal jewelries
We were murdered without a second thought.
Our females were raped and molested
To satisfy their sexual urge
We dare not disobey orders
We dare not make our own choices.
We sailed on sea waters day after day
Dying of starvation and malnutrition
Anyone who didn't survive the sailing
was thrown into the sea.
Surviving the voyage was our horror
We were trapped in bondage against our will
Our legs,hands and mouth were in shackles
We lie cupped against one another like spoons.
Our masters were just too cruel to humanity
They hated us with passion
They treated us like we were nothing
Animals were better of than us.
They hated our skin and existence.
We were rode on like horses
Toiling night and day like ants
Having no rest whatsoever
Making us walk naked like a mad human.
But now! The struggle is over
Look at my hands, I'm free!
Free like an eagle soaring high
Free from slavery and captivity.
Yes! Free from the life I didn't choose
Free from the years of punishment
Free from the years of suffering for no cause.
Oh Yes! I'm free!
My worst nightmare is gone!
© Rita Oyewale 08|18
Chocolates, hearts and flowers are ubiquitous in the markets or stores
It is like a frenzy storm, like heavy raindrops rushing through the gutters
I am told at the big mall, it’s like Christmas Eve, where procrastinators
Are buying boxes of chocolate, flowers, candies of all kinds and colors
Candles, jewelries, intimate pajamas, and sexy accessories for loved ones
Wow! Love must really be in the air or something different is quaffing
The oxygen, which is necessary and essential for our survivals. Something
Is in the fresh air, where the moon is full and craziness makes no sense
In this fascinating world, where babies are slaughtered and innocent victims
Are cursed, beaten, jailed and killed: I ponder and wonder. They don’t care
It’s is a show of tradition, not a show of unconditional love. I cannot bare
Not to say anything about what I’m witnessing and living. Bad dreams
Endure; they don’t last. Nightmares see the devil in the dark in your bedroom
I guess, hope and pray that Saint Valentine can improve the current events
Yet, I am afraid of the hypocrisy, which behaves like evil rats and pesky ants
Yes, I am confused, shocked and bewildered by so much extravagance for only one day
I write and pray that true love rains and reigns, and tolerance shines on Valentine’s day.
Copyright © February 13, 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Colors will always make my life happier,
They also make my whole world brighter
What if there’s no color?
I think, I’ve no life galore
And I cannot make myself much prettier.
So, I’ve got a more fantastic idea,
To show everyone my color-mania
For Monday Luck, I wear red
From my feet to my head
Like a dragon of New Year in China.
Then comes the next day, it’s Tuesday
Keeping aura, I’ve color of sun ray
Yellow dress and jewelries,
They say, I’ve hepatitis
But, I don’t care no matter what they say.
Then comes the third day of the week,
More work are done making me weak
To conceal my exhaustion
Green color shows pretention
That my life and vigor are still at peak.
Thursday comes so perfectly great,
I wear purple , also my favorite
Purple fingernails and lips,
Its on me up to the tips
And I get smiles from whoever I meet.
Friday, the last day of my office work,
On this day, rainbow color over perk
I use multi-colored things,
Feeling of joy they’ll bring
No one says I carry myself like a quirk.
Saturday and Sunday are weekends,
Still, work and activities never end
Two days, I’ll be all in pink
People see me can’t wink
Tickled pink that I look so young my friend.
Sept. 22, 2012
First Place
Contest: Colors
Judged: 10/15/2013
Sponsor: Poetess Skat
I don't want to walk in this lane again
I don't want to be bless with no tale
I cover my soul with hatred but my body blossom
Forty three years i am, childless.
Yesterday, i was forty and a child promised
Yet i have no one to send an errand
My pillow watches my tears swing on it
A house wife tears not so good
Mother, i will be coming home, i've failed
Brother, arrange my unlock hut for me
Sister, search for my lost Bangoes and Jewelries
Father, prepare my dowry to be return to them
I have failed in marriage yet blessed at home
Words unsaid hurt more than an injury
Forty three years of barrenness and pains
Sorrow of a house wife seems too painful
My womb had developed the mind of their own
My utensils question my authority
The doors in my home laugh at me in a scornful way
I see the windows always mocking my moves
I want to move but moving becomes impossible
Sorrow of a house wife in forty three years
I hate to be a woman if this what they face
Tell mother i will be coming home he wants me no more
He had defiled our matrimonial bed and the bed want me no more
He is now a monster playing outside with a mistress
My Chi has forsaken me in dawn after dusk
I will be coming mother perhaps your arms will
Cuddle me and make me better like before .
Tell the world i've failed as a woman
But tell not my house hold for they already known
Quote:"All art is autobiographical. The pearl is the oyster's autobiography".
Federico Fellini
The Taos Indian crafted jewel,
A necklace strung with jade and some other gems.
Looked so pretty to me, I bought it on the spot,
Presented it to my wife, which she never wore in her life.
Once I asked her, why don’t you wear that necklace?
You would look pretty in it and would arouse some romance.
She looked at me and asked, have you ever judged jewelry?
Whoever wears green stone jewelry, I would rather buy a pearl necklace.
What is so special about pearl necklaces?
Pearl harvesters find only in one percent of oysters,
Its layers of sand, glued in oyster’s glands,
Still women love the bright white lustier of beady pearls.
She is gone for many years, the jade necklace I keep in my heart,
It’s not the value of jewelry, it is what it is sentimentally worth,
She wore pearl and other jewelries, and tried to look her best,
If she had worn my gift necklace, she would have looked her best.
Now I adore her picture on the wall,
With the jewelry she did not like at all,
To me she looks the prettiest doll,
Wearing this precious jade jewel crafted by love.