Long Joint Poems
Long Joint Poems. Below are the most popular long Joint by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Joint poems by poem length and keyword.
I shot all the letters, my love, in the silent dawn of night,
From my last unread book, the pages remain unstarted,
The poems exchanged their corpses for impersonal words,
Full of blind ideas, like echoes fading in the valley unheard.
Turning the phrase on the erased spot of the final point,
A yellow, vegetal form becomes a banal detail in joint,
Leading us to the forgotten trash heap's communal grave,
A swirling fervor, a strange cross, a destiny tangled and grave.
After so many loves and insults, let's dream of each other anew,
Not just our most uncultured dreams, but in another view,
Conscious punctuation marks sent to the earth we embrace,
Old creations now hollow, a NULLity of words with no grace.
Let's lose ourselves in the silence of words that echo no more,
In an esoteric dance of thoughts flowing slowly to the core,
In a world where magic and melancholy meet and blend,
And in an eternal dream, my love, let's find and love again.
Kiss me when the sun sleeps,
When the bite grows, and seeps.
Tongue no longer restrained,
As blood from your face, drained.
Our tango, twist of fate;
Wiggle of charm was bait.
Removed your crucifix,
And set up candlesticks.
Was surprised to see dark
In your eyes, like a shark.
Cape stopped you from thinking.
In a coffin, sinking.
Down onto the mattress fell.
Now in your heart, I dwell.
Your scream, beside the point;
Jugular out of joint.
When dusk penetrates, fear
Aims fangs, quick, like a spear.
His beauty was a beast;
Doe-eyed virgin, deceased.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
Ulysses by Lord Tennyson
Tin Man : [squeaking] Dorothy : He said "oil can." Scarecrow : Oil can what? ... [Dorothy squirts oil onto the Tin Man and his arm loosens and falls] Dorothy : Did that hurt? ... Tin Man : Well, about a year ago, I was chopping that tree, when suddenly it began to rain. And right in the middle of a chop, I rusted solid.
Wizard of Oz (movie quote)
EDEN’S CREST
I travel only in my mind
now. Packing up my cruise ship
experience. I wait; I reiterate,
I wait, with unhinged joint -
rusty, waiting for the oil can
of the tin man. A long journey’s
night going in circles, on
the yellow brick road. Those bricks,
brittle and broken, rotting
apple cores protruding from the ground;
even the mad tree is bored. The sea,
does she wait for me - a long lost friend?
Does she perfume the long-long night
with extra salt and coconut oil?
Does her child kick at the waves,
bored and wishful for his friends?
And my garden, in which honey bees
fall out of the sky, with no soul
to buzz and bother. The birds flap listlessly
in horror, never before missing
human beings until their existence
was in question. We need each other,
on the balance beam, to wrestle,
to teem; the muscle of golden koi
exploding from a child’s eyes -
the pond in Eden’s crest. Oh God,
may I not freeze in time! Set this world
in motion; devotion of hands, knees
and fine chefs singing O Sole Mio
whilst the island-ship waves its flags,*
pure white excitement perhaps
with a dunk of gravy and biscuit crumbs,
dotting eyes as the voyage comes
to an end; the pandemic lasts.
8/4/2021
*napkins
Janet went down to the honky-tonk
for some line-dancing and some beer,
down to a joint called ‘Edna Mae’s,’
she always had a good time here.
Old Edna, tattooed, worked the bar,
three bikers player pool, one guy scarred,
a country band played Hank up front,
soon her first beer Janet had drunk.
She joined in with all the dancers
and did soon find herself besides
a blond-haired cowboy who moved well,
with such deep, haunting, grey eyes.
After working a sweat both took leave,
at the bar he said,”Hi, I’m Steve.”
Up and down Janet’s eyes did roam,
he was the type she could take home.
They both did shots, rot-gut whiskey,
then made their way back to the floor,
there they both kept up the hot moves,
for another full hour more.
In a corner the two made out,
she took his hand and led him down
the front steps towards her small car,
for adult fun, they would go park.
But Steve froze at the sight of it,
then ripped his hand clean from her grasp.
he turned and sprinted for the bar,
she’d never seen a man move so fast.
Confused, she followed him back in,
could not find Steve, started looking,
half-hour passed, he was not found,
she went to the bar, and sat down.
Janet told Edna about it,
who listened to what Janet did say.
Edna smiled, and asked softly:
“Did this man have deep eyes of grey?”
Janet confirmed the truth of this,
Edna said,”Come to my office.”
She took down a picture, carefully,
said,”Took this back in ’eighty-three.”
Janet gasped at the image there,
what she saw then beggared belief,
where, dressed in nineteen eighties clothes,
was the young, grinning face of Steve!
“He was my partner’s son, you know.
He rode the local rodeos.
But then in eighty-three he died,
murdered, in the lot outside.”
CONCLUDES IN PART II
This opened moment viewed together through the mirrored glass;
Reflections of tomorrows past with all the deigned and feigned
And foreign feelings felt. This moment deep into the next will melt.
Deep enough to fill the reservoirs of all eternity’s yesterdays.
Heart to heart and soul to soul pressed together in a binding, bundling way.
As stars collide, the air will whisper across the words of all that we could say.
My dear, my sweet beloved, gather close unto your heart the far flung feelings
Of the universe. For you are like the sun and all it does provide.
An amber droplet born, the crimson life of color torn, from pages yet unwritten;
With touch that marks the night with lightning fiery hot.
There you are, and there, and there, for wherefore are you not?
The edge of lining, all my reason, birth of life and cradle rocked.
Given to release and given to self-sacrifice and given to relief
And given to the well from which all springs,
Heart to heart and soul to soul the endless song life sings.
Your breath from some joint reservoir unites with air expelled
And there is never time enough or words enough or reach enough
To so embrace this starry starry world. There is no time or distance
Between the watcher and the watched. They are the same.
We are the same. This moment opened as a gift bestowed.
Unfolding you and I and all that may begin.
The opened moment beckons sweetly
Come in, my love,
Come in.
NEVER LET ME GO
Joint journey juncture juxtaposed.
Pondered, planned, promised to pursue in peace and patience.
Incidentally if I infatuate or induce indifference,
No negative notion: Neither ‘No’ nor ‘Nope’.
Once I lost lavender love and now shining sparkling like cynosure.
My ardent ardour, amour in glamour now to glitter.
Value our valiant venture vanquishing vanity and variance.
Luminous love lightens laden life not to lose liking.
Allure, attract, admire me to adore you.
Darling! Don’t deviate or distract disowning me.
Never let me go but to glow gorgeous glistening in glory.
Let your firm faith flow flashing fervid fervent flame.
03/31/19
Fourth place
'Pick up a Title' Vol 3. Alliteration Contest by Edward Ibeh
' My Lost and Found Love'
Contest by JCB Brul
Yellow rubber, swallowed by the wardrobe’s floor,
cracked wide across the instep where the plastic split.
They smell of wet rubber, mildew,
fear;
a pair of small boots, size twelve, seven years old,
caked in dried river-silt and salt.
A stranger may look in and call this precious,
a quiet snapshot of a girl who loved the rain
before her legs lengthened
and learned the art of running away.
How sweet to think I open up this closet to
reminisce an untouched girl leaping in the rain.
I never grew out of my yellow boots.
Perhaps I was torn out of them.
The monster does not have a face,
all rot and cold,
a mouth of shadows opening beneath the porch,
his heavy fingers smelling of damp earth and rust.
He never touched the boots; only the girl inside,
snapping her out of them like a bone from a joint,
leaving two empty hulls dropped flat upon the tile.
Each morning I reach into the dark for my coat,
and realize the closet is not where I hide the memory -
but where the monster wears my yellow rain boots,
waiting for me to slip my feet back in.
Debates and discourses galore
Trees and rivers are worried
Cruelty and hounding are torrid
A raped morning in the shore
Kindness smiles in the water
It fondles the skin still tender
Flying sands drop by to kiss it
Restive waves come on hissing
Intellectuals in the seminar
Shopping at fifty percent
Online bonanza for women
Pious hopes in the twitters
Success is celebrated globally
Molested school girls scoff at
Flesh is what the quest goes for
Pearls of friendship is a far cry
Sharks of powers and muscles
Untamed high-rise castles
Can’t we have joint umbrellas?
To share a grief or golf stick
Sublimate our glare of control
And avoid hundreds of shipwreck?
Discrimination will go away one day
We will need centuries to that end
Life will be the same celebration
For men and women together
_____________________________
It is at the half
And the Hammies have not taken a bath
Due to the rain
Schedule was changed and that was a pain
You see the UK had swamps like in Florida
Delaying the little piggy’s invitation to be slaughtered,
Playing Manchester City in the big blue house
Now having a Wed date despite not having a spouse
Going easy Man City had a strike
But that was it and after forty-five minutes the Hammies were psyched.
Are they the ones being taken?
Allowing Manchester City to collect the bacon.
Or will they escape the market trip?
In the prime time English Premiere football script
Early on West Ham stretcher made an appearance
Giving a Hammer substitute clearance
Man City had a miss calculated shot
And West Ham still looked hot
It was still
One nil
As West Ham got first aid
The Citizens made moves as an attempt to make the sports book grade
With another one put in goal
Manchester City waited for West Ham to fold
Throwing the ham on the frying pan
Manchester City shrugged off that well reported UEFA ban
Knowing it was time to coast
MC hinted to West Ham “it is time for that relegation roast”
Time is ticking and the Hammies are still alive
Using the sports book getting 2.5 message of ‘give it a good try’
Would there be another goal?
As they deal with reality being cold.
Extra time is now on the board
And the sporting midweek evening was headed for the door.
Refs put up a time of four
And even Bubbles The Bear said look at the score
Hanging on to the bitter end
The Hammies were able to defend
Making a spread by a half point
And giving a reason for a laugh at the sports book joint.
Next up London boys
The Industrial workers known for the rock and roll band that were toys?
Give it your best
The high pro filers may confess
As the people realize if you were out of the glitz and glamour
You could make real money using a hammer
AM I THE SOUL OF THE LIVING SPIRIT--
As a breath of fresh air
Lightly is the oxygen that passes in ;
My nostrils;
Can’t believe that I’m exhaling through my eyes;
As I look out my nose sees the aroma of the heated fragrant;
Breezes that flows through me;
~~~am I the soul of the living spirit
Myrtle and Jasmine be;
Honey bees;
Sweet is the hearts;
That ne’er parts;
I am made up dirt and clay;
~~~am I the soul of the living spirit
Molded by the great I AM;
I am physically compacted molded dirt and clay;
Breathe in a spirit correlated soul;
Molded joint together by All Father GOD in heaven;
Whom am I to ignore, deny or hate;;
Free will God does give , this we take;
So for all eternities sake;
I confess I relate I just a sinner saved by grace;
A filthy rag that needs to be washed in the blood of Jesus;
Whom am I to deny save me God whom am I;
~~~am I the soul of the living spirit
Just a molded piece of clay made up of dirt;
For all that it’s worth;
I have a spirit I have a soul;
Help LORD;
Oh! God your molded clay soul of a living spirit
01/29/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2019©