Long Joie Poems
Long Joie Poems. Below are the most popular long Joie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Joie poems by poem length and keyword.
zealous woozily throbbing
quintessentially narcotic
karaoke humble ecstasy bubbling
yawningly vibrantly
singing praises motivates
ineluctable fancy caparisoned
zestfully whooping tellingly
quaking novel kindles
heartfelt essence
blubbering yipping vocalizations
sincerely pronouncing
myriad jubilant gleefulness
describing absolute x2c
unbridled rhapsodic
obeisance loosening
inimitable fabulous communication
zeroing wakened tremendous pleasure
marinating joie de vivre
gurgling dynamically aspiring xylem
unstoppably roiling
overtly liberal fawning calculus
zinging wordy tome
proclaiming motive jangling
glorifying divine adulating
x uber rants obediently liberating
inducing fantastic crowing zestfully
warbling tenderly quiet nursing kingdom
harkening enjoyment bestirring
x unnumbered remarks
outlining linkedin impressiveness
from crocheting zany way
this poet marries juxtaposed grammar
describing atypical xfinity urging requiem
oozing libation inside
fleshly corporeal Zen wordsmith thyself
questioning messenger's (mine) jabbering
gets decoded accurately.
Marvelous mitzvah "munchkin" minted
Thy eldest daughter Eden Liat
treasured more'n a pearl
(otherwise known as Rapunzel)...
donated cut hair to charity - you go girl,
ha, whereat your fine brunette locks of love
will be repurposed into wigs for kids,
and perhaps even don kepi
of trumpeting Bullwinkle, his Sciuridae
friend named Rocket J. Squirrel,
and/or his nemesis Natasha Fatale.
Kudos to thee savvy
twenty three plus year old offspring
voluntarily unwittingly hood
amazingly gracefully support
exhausting, flagging, grueling...
stricken young spirits and bring
joie de vivre during
treatment and convalescence
of challenging treatment ailing,
perhaps hoop fully nipping
terminal illness in bud
beaten into remission,
whereby family, friends medical staff sing
ode to joy cherishing
nothing short of a blessing.
Said sensible, smart and
stalwart inadvertent mentor,
a splendidly mirthful and mindful lass
yes, tis biased opinion, quite a
truckload of abilities she did amass
even fending bullies who tried to harass
attractive petite proportionate physique
confident smile shown back
courtesy looking glass
and papa cognizant,
how her art of humbleness
helped her succeed as top class
high achiever at Harriton High School,
especially acing rigorous
International Baccalaureate (IB)
(worldwide, nonprofit education program
plus even when just a little girl
attending Belmont Elementary
promise of success,
my feeble accomplishments
"star student" did quickly surpass
with flying colors earned free pass
concomitantly acquiring invisible
magic ring, and carpet made of brass
the latter powered by
Walt Whitman wrought leaves of grass
at University of Pennsylvania
earning stripes as Ivy League graduate
freelance activist while completing
internship linkedin with
University of Southern California.
Spellbound birth father
internally rejoices ta deum,
we knew e'er since Eden Liat
healthy growing fetus within the womb
whip smart progeny
undoubtedly healthy unbridled maturation,
I vicariously exalt storied accomplishments
accrediting and applauding
every iota offspring earned
blood, sweat and tears
created deafening sonic boom,
and where infinitesimal blazing saddle
burned blinding trajectory
catching eminent potential groom.
Far as the (ease)
severely myopic eyes can see,
nothing but polluted atmosphere
where skull and crossbones
memento mori betokens beware,
especially with increasing chronology
mortality becomes crystal clear
existential crisis yours truly didst despair
not so much death itself, but failure
(inadequacy) at livingsocial
mine life to the hilt
plain as day everywhere
casual attitude apropos
(pertinent personal paradigm
regarding aspiring poet)
equals laissez faire,
hence the following
his apt nom de guerre
emotionally castrated docile heir.
Minimal milestones attained he
blithely professes, grants, attests,
et cetera as general rule
barely squeaked by
(think graduating high school)
weatherbeaten and rust covered cerebral tool
smartly linkedin cogs and wheels
buzzfeeding delicate threads didst unspool
above mentioned metaphor near
perfectly, quintessentially, and realistically virtual
extempore description hoopfully edifies
thee dear reader figuratively yours truly
got swallowed into vortex whirlpool.
Maelstrom pitched me to and fro
hither and yon into damndest chaos
drowned me under dead end zone
fiercest storm ever
raging across Lake Woebegone
stronger than bajillion healthy
male primates oozing testosterone
empowered with indomitable strength
downing ordinarily toxic
(even infinitesimal quantity) quinone
think beefy hulking Hercules types
built powerlifters second to none
pulsating pecks, quaking quads,
and ripped reputations
far and wide known
with versatility now
smattering of lines
constituting this poem I hone.
Invisible omnipresent nemesis,
(perhaps the Schwenksville Strangler)
appears intent on asphyxiating,
and simultaneously forcing yours truly
to experience unbearable
oppression, humiliation, and agitation,
whereby joie de vivre extinguished
provoking sadness linkedin
with remembrance of things past
agonizing, kickstarting torturing
absolute zero ability to relish the present
essentially forced to recollect
nasty, short and brutish mailer daemons
characterizing diabolical ghosts
representing nauseating, and haunting
hurtful dirty deeds done dirt cheap
courtesy my selfishness
verboten fruit tasted within recent past
now the bitter aftertaste
analogous to Scrooge
suddenly horrified about his stingy self.
Joie de vivre courtesy Melitte A Goldsby -
NMLS ID#639704
Citizens Bank manager
in Trooper, Pennsylvania
lit up space like a live wire,
and I braced myself
against shaking our hands
(upon first greeting me
after walking thru the doors)
lest a shock pass thru me
analogous to a lightning bolt
striking yours truly out of the blue
after seeing her
standing righteous and proud
(as she rightfully deserved
acquired her station in life
courtesy indomitable perseverance,
I presume most likely never did tire
what with an outsize personality
that would charm
the skin off a snake
and the smarts to match),
thus prompting me
to dash off a feeble attempt
regarding this wordsmith
to resolve his
checking account quagmire
after being suckered
into one after
another centsless imbroglio
falling prey into poor man's
monied pipe bombed dream
gullible and naive to compromise
relative safekeeping his deposits
yet somehow found myself
at the mercy of short,
nasty and brutish
trolls rubbing their
weather beaten hands in glee
when ensnaring a once
happy go lucky boy
essentially being affected courtesy
an anonymous byte size notifier
that meekness and submissiveness
signaled to bullies think Charlie Brown
the renown targeted
victim as a vulnerable kite-flier
whose kite went no higher
than the kite eating tree,
whose foiled attempt
at a Lucy free empire
like a metaphor
for the writer of these words
stumbling into pitfalls
most of his own making a buyer
into the implication of the maxim
"if something is too good
to be true, it probably is"
disregarding a warning to be skeptical
of offers or situations
that seem unrealistically
positive or beneficial
taking the bait
from snake oil salesman
pitching me head over heels
into a grave situation
of my own making
exhausting every last ounce of energy
only to find myself
deeper in a black hole
where red is the new black,
especially pertaining to money matters,
and I pay thru
emotional/psychological nose
exacerbating an already
anxiety prone baby boomer
soon after the beneficence
as high a caliber individual,
but interestingly enough
none can exceed
the esprit de corps of Melitte A Goldsby
principally with knack
to rectify his out of balance accounts.
Mein Das-Stilled Vintage Spirits Score-Hitched...
From Bottled Up Rage
Daily app pair rent
revelation, observation, and
intimation invariably concludes,
this aging baby
boomer (albeit youthful)
inescapably lock up
(until death me part)
inside complex edifice
re: guarding self made trap
rocketing into orbitz
of mine twilight years thrusts,
upon this pop (sic) crack
kill forcibly to snap
attention back into
the present, yet unable
to shake off feeling dismayed,
viz hit ting head
with bleak recap
cha regular basis finds me
reassessing, reliving,
and reviewing
psychologically pock
marked scarred
psyche indelibly mapped
e'er since this narrator hapt
tubby a little boy at
tender preschool age
his esprit de corp
joie de vivre analogous
to a rat locked
in an undersize invisible cage
devoid of emotional, physical,
and spiritual equipage
with 20/20 hindsight, I attest,
he seemed bereft
of empathy gauge
as attested by donning
slovenly swiftly tailored,
unkempt harried styled
appearance, a foiled image
that any stranger, family
member, or classmate
could discern, sans
intuitive knowledge
Hawaii didst poorly manage
thyself and island
did self smoldering
wool worth deadly sabotage!
joie de vivre, joy of life, seize the day!
joie de vivre, joy of life, seize the day!
When I find a new term like this I have to use it right away.
joie de vivre, joy of life, seize the day!
Now if I just knew how to pronounce it!
she and I would be a much better fit.
the pretty French word, joie might sound like joy,
for what else would make sense, right, my sweet boy?
de is probably de, like b is b and c is c.
for whatever else could ‘de’ possibly be?
But vivre has me snogged and snoozled.
drawn and quartered, quickly bamboozled.
Is my non-French speaking mouth smart enough?
Can I figure it out without any kind of extra fuss?
joie de vivre, joy of life, seize the day!
joie de vivre, joy of life, seize the day!
When I find a new term like this I have to use it right away.
Soothing, lissome; render the facsimile of its
Heart; Such a spright with adore imbued.
‘Er pelt’s so sleek; as petite fry’s
In its nurse’s, gentle and suckling:
The only Cutie-pie on my heart.
Realism in its mettle glints joie de vivre,
As doeth molten chaste gold in the forge; a
Knoll of whose acme other inamoratas feign. Such
An Alkebulan nymph of finest of lustre imagined:
The one and only on the heart.
Nymph of great splendor so priced,
Guarantees anew that adoring even more I stay;
Or peril I at rivals shameful losses, awaiting
My heart’s intensely pricked – broken:
As if it weren’t the only Cutie-pie on my heart.
Beauty as embossed on it and in
Every milieu envisioned, of itself no ill utters;
Making it the solo etch on this conquered heart,
And of those who in split or full, fray pro-reign
Over the one and only on the heart.
Hells all abhorrence merited, it deters!
Anti-doting each time desolation's endured,
Thus, it insures my glee agst perils viable;
Agst rivals in places – a reassuring haven:
The only Cutie-pie on my heart.
In its blissful eye’s such an unfaked
Love that soothes like no cool draft does;
Optically reassuring in such ways it’s my
Venus, the finest of icons in the realms of adore:
The one and only on the heart.
Every songbird that hums its tune,
Yens for the arpeggio worthy the hymn for
One sylph in a million – for its admirers reverie;
‘Until fatality do us part’, in their self-deceited yen
For the only Cutie-pie on my heart.
Reminiscing and full of nostalgia
looking back over the years
A life full of joy and laughter
though some occasional tears
But no real regrets
Oh, maybe just one
For at this time of year
to my mind it doth come
So why before I die
have I never been to Glastonbury
watching from my old armchair
wishing it was me
wishing I was there
For despite
the rain
the mud
the loos
euphoria is all I see
with babes in arms
and sixties hippies
this place I really I want to be
sitting here full of joie de vivre
To see those happy hippy souls
festooned
bejewelled
leaves me beguiled
their visage truly says it all
they dance and sway the night away
a fantasy world of music and colour
this place is truly like no other
It’s never too late for me
to visit Glastonbury ~ my guilty pleasure
donning my happy hippy attire
strategically placing my stick- on tattoos
I turn up the volume ~ I'm ready to go
So singing and dancing the whole night through
at dawn ~ as I wipe the sleep from my eyes
I’m enjoying the luxury of my very own loo…
Written on 28th June 2019 – the first day of Glastonbury Festival
3rd PLACE
Contest: YOUR CHOICE SEASONS-FESTIVALS VERSE ,any form,any theme
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Just on the cusp of experiencing joie de vivre,
the triumvirate of Crooks and Quade
figuratively swoop down
to announce re: inspection
of apartment unit B44
whenever they deem appropriate.
Thus series of unfortunate events
(linkedin with bull limey
Lemony Snicket bro)
got sidelined nsync with
contracting a minor bout
with deadly Amish Flu
symptoms found garden variety reasonable rhymer
bedridden feeling a little horse and buggy (ha),
incapacitated to craft signature poetry writing.
An honest to dog confession
regarding hiatus spewing forth
vociferous versatile vocabulary
mine words - worth their weight in gold
(told woofer I do not know), nevertheless
included perusing a gamut of reading material.
The passion to engross intellect
witnessed courtesy immersing
attention, concentration, excitation
gratification, intoxication;
knowledge prized more precious
than fine spun gold.
Likewise crafting (albeit painstakingly)
elusive notions that flit
to and fro hither and yon
(analogous to ping pong ball)
within parameters of
microscopically crenellated
sixty plus shades of gray matter
also constitutes fervent interest.
This coming New Year
Brings with it scattered rose petals
Flowing tearfully in the air
And I dream
Of Love, picking them up one by one
To assemble them in some sort
Of unique bouquet,
Handing which to me
He would say,
Here, this is the love that you have
Been dreaming of!
The coming New Year
Brings with it angelic vibes,
Which would gather at Love's bedside
When he would be ready to fall into slumber
And would
Sing to him,
The need to open his soul
To the mysticism wanting us to be!
They would play those heavenly tunes
For him, listening to which
His heart would reach out to mine
With a sure and strong grip!
The coming New Year
Brings with it, a pen and a notebook,
Using which we would both
Write of our story here,
Of why we have chosen to be with each other,
Loving each other with all of our senses
Forsaking everything else,
And merely living for Death,
That power which would allow us
To be back there from where we fell,
There, where the Gods, in all of their manifested forms,
Want us to be!
This coming New Year,
Brings with it raindrops,
Which would be collected by Love,
And which he would use to
Mend my broken heart,
Healing me in the process,
And allowing me to say,
I knew I had to believe in that faith
Gifted to me by those skies!
This coming New Year,
Brings forth more dreams,
In the forms of revelations and insightful guidance
From those powers which we can grasp not
But which have chosen us for the purpose of love!
These will play in our waking moments,
As fluidly as do our favorite songs
And upon these, we shall walk on the way,
As mindfully as would a diver
Seeking to collect pearls from the bottom of the ocean!
This coming New Year
Brings forth fairy tales,
Horses, unicorns, duties, love,
Kisses, forgiveness and joie de vivre!
Why,
Are the New Year's dreams
Not romantic?
Are they not poetic?
Are they not fulfilling,
Heart warming even?
Of course, the magic with which they are imbibed
Rests upon the wills of faith
And I
Blindly adhering to these
Shall keep dreaming more intensely
Of those dreams of the new year!
Written on 15 Dec 2019