Long Juvenile Poems
Long Juvenile Poems. Below are the most popular long Juvenile by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Juvenile poems by poem length and keyword.
Suppose we ran it by a friendly Martian
(I’d say “by Martial”, but he wouldn’t be gentle).
You crave Armani, Hugo Boss, Versacci and
that Hilfiger who’s naff, naff. Are you mental?
This myth of exclusivity’s juvenile
(I’d offer “Juvenal”, but you’d refuse).
They’re mass-produced, ubiquitous, stock-piled,
your Sarah Jessica Parkas, Jimmy Shoes.
The Martian, then. We wrap ourselves in rags
to ward off cold, conceal the family jewels,
but put a brand name on those skirts and bags,
you’ll cough up ten times more. “You bloody fools!”
Apartheid is an evil thing, agreed?
South Africa once practised it. You struck.
You staked out embassies, until the blacks were freed.
Embargoes, sanctions, boycotts – oh, such pluck!
But none of you’s besieging Tel Aviv.
Our Martian’s wondering what the difference is.
Ramallah’s raped without a by-your-leave,
but you’re at Burghley, knocking back bucks fizz.
Perhaps we can’t extinguish all life’s fires.
Perhaps compassion tires, and needs its pauses.
Or is there just a chance that it transpires,
there’s such a thing we’ll call “designer causes”?
Fraught With IBS Irritable Bowel Syndrome...
Rear lee if ever suffices as an apt poetic title
amidst bookish canon - while
this writer (similar to other aspirants
in their respective creative pursuits)
aware arbitrary perusers may deem vile
core body of voluntary selective readers
mentally affix probationary trial
before unequivocally gravitating
toward my genre or signature style,
which unique modality
of expression eventually
accruing some degree of popularity
affecting unseen frown or smile
nonetheless, accepting, enjoying,
and tolerating how I playfully rile
aware that anonymous reader's
patience can wear thin relegating mine
worded persona on par with a reptile
unknowingly breaking fragile bond,
hence she/he might not reconcile
without awareness a valuable kinship,
dismiss me as puerile,
thus forsaking tenuous link, one
that may never bare tangible fruition,
yet all along self scrutiny occurs to refine
thy cerebral thought provoking profile
also intimating months gone by bias
arises toward my
figurative handily prehensile
expansive vocabulary, could
(and/or does) rank as a pile
of unpleasant gluteus maximus
sphincter muscle missile
imposing effort to tone down exuberant,
flamboyant, and gallant mercantile
flashing blindingly exasperatingly,
and inflamingly nauseating vocabulary,
not deliberately juvenile
but this luxe lavish embellishment
a labor of (lost) love with English
Language (inherent since...
in utero), thus...infantile
asper taking shape without conscious
deliberation, though imbecile
appellation possibly affixed
as lasting impression,
perhaps even engendering hostile,
whereat no effort to exhort
unconditional acceptance of me guile
will transpire, cuz this chap
recognizes how tenuously fragile,
the online choice to remain a steadfast
virtual friendship quintessentially fissile
oft times casting the notion how facile
mine arrangement springs from one
core textured intellectual domicile
that houses persona of one docile
amphibious descendent, whose forebear,
yes twas a crocodile!
Oh, how wonderfully innocent
and juvenile, 'twas for me.
You, scooting surreptitiously.
closer and closer to me.
Like a soft, gentle caterpillar,
slithering and smiling.
Making its way home in the
still of the night.
I clutched my lovely, flowered
handkerchief.
Then my gold cross with a
sparkling aqua gem upon it.
Really, wanting to not say, no.
My blue eyed Tommy boy.
In the Elmwood Park Spring, we
were about to kiss.
Fireflies came to celebrate this
celebratory bliss.
When we were moving beyond
flirtation.
It was as though heaven were
sending particles of stars,
To bless the softness of this
sacred night.
Of huge elm tress, your strong
arms about me.
Finally, those soft, tender lips.
There in God's silent moonlight,
I had my first teenage kiss!
August 30, 2019
Inspired by writings of Robert Lindley.Thank you!
Tingly skies full of surprise oh how I love when with surmise,
the little rascal aims his dart as if it were, poetic art !
The juvenile lyrical mind under infantile skin,
like the sweetness of the fruit ripe already,
will have the mute desire to reach and win
with artistic heart pulsating within puerile body.
Rising from the depth of ageless emotion,
spreading like waters of the flooding river,
love assumes a heavenly halcyon dimension
in a delightful art framed with platonic fervor.
When the yarn of yearning sews the closed eye,
on the flapping eyelids the bird of passion flies.
The flight makes all the dreams to rise high,
float like shapeless clouds in the seamless skies.
If in the same rhythm the two hearts beat,
time arrow will stop for you, making no sense.
Past forgotten, in the present two souls will meet,
sunk in the depth of blind love without pretense.
When cupid's arrow aims for you, there isn't much that you can do !
On a cold morning, heavenly dew kissed his nest,
the wind hummed a song he knew not.
He sat alone, his tiny chest burdened with grief.
Mama had been his shield, his rock,
and now, she was gone, never to return.
He gave the vast world a glance,
a void that he wished to explore.
But fear whispered into his ears,
its talons digging deep into his heart.
With death knocking, he was out of time.
His claws trembled at the edge of the nest,
the swirling abyss below waiting to swallow him.
a voice whispered to him, stay,
but this time he knew the voice was wrong
he leapt
To his surprise, the sky embraced him.
as he glided smoothly
The cold breeze rushed past his feathers,
with rays of the sun illuminating his path
The world had received him with open arms.
It was a new dawn
President Trump is well versed in the art
of exaggeration
and procrastination.
He constantly breaks campaign promises
despite obligations
and or demonstrations.
Always begging His financial friends for
generous donations
for favorite foundations.
He brazenly touts alternative truths
luring congregations
feeding aspirations.
He’s transformed lying to a form of art
declared declarations
spurring confrontations.
His juvenile vindictive tweets effect
market fluctuations
and global relations.
Because angry Americans voted
his administration
will harm generations.
Congress must act and pursue impeachment
or his resignation
and rescue their nation.
(Rhyme)
Jan. 2, 2019
Contest: As easy as ABB
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Chapter I
Part II: Power and emptiness
Mariah of Magdala!
Opulent woman yet juvenile
Did your 'hood' bestow upon you such affluence?
Look how youthful you are
Flawless beauty with an enchanting aroma
Like a spring in the wilderness
Of apparent mint breadth of solace,
Your velvet skin, Maria, of such cottony
How do you make your even delicate body soft, Mariah?
They make figures stick like Sahara honey on your sheath
Your eyes Mariah of Magdala
They see through a soul-like infinite
They see the pain and confuse them with pleasure
A short, well-lived excitement.
Where did you get those sharp milky teeth?
Well separated neatly arranged ages
Like a perfect green cob for export
Your Mona Lisa smile Mariah of Magdala
They make your face like the goddess
Did the same maker who created other women create you?
How biased?
For the best, you gained
Of perfect Eden plump on the season after another
They say thy fruits are the sweetest
We have the best adage than yours Mariah
Yet men threw stones at yours
They sneaked with weapons
Some dug deep holes ensuring no ending harvest
Some made wings with baskets
While others became your best of friends yet foes
Some were witty and gave you toxic cherry
Just for a piece of your pie
To have fruitage where they ever so desired
Each left with a piece of sweet melody
Their half-filled hearts thirsted
They longed to come back sooner than they had left
They fought among themselves
Did they slay for your Eden Mariah of Magdala?
Mariah of Magdala!
How did it feel to let them in one after another?
Did they hurt you? Did they make you happy?
Did it convey completeness to thy thirsting soul?
To see the sons of women destroying each other for you
Was it pleasurable?
Oh! Mariah of Magdala
Piece by piece they took off your humanity
Did they neglect you when you needed them most?
Did someone hurt your childhood?
Did they trade you for generational wealth, Mariah of Magdala?
Or did they curse you for the cleansing ceremony?
For that which made you this cardinal
Must celebrate in a cheer of win.
ROSE FROM THE DUST
Sixteen sweet springs she had seen come and go,
blooming thousand flowers on her dove eyes,
touching her tender heart with the cadence
of the whispering breeze of juvenile romance.
She had found a friend in the close neighborhood,
and he turned into a lover, when she didn’t know.
On her 16th birthday they met in a secret wood,
she was in veiled rapture as he gave her a red rose.
She kissed it and tucked gently in her black hair,
as if it were a rare jewel on the crown she wore.
Returning home a sudden gust of wind blew on her,
the rose dropped down a storm drain, gone forever.
She had silently cried her broken heart out,
for with the rose she had lost her nascent love.
Dust of dream got swept into closet of memory,
for he had disappeared, gone with the wind.
Life had taken her far away on the whirlwind,
when years later to her old home she returned,
and stood by the storm drain on a windy morning,
the red rose called memory rose from the dust.
February 27, 2019
Checked on PS Grammar Checker
The breast of this dada heaves
with remorseful painful ache
as if...the insides of my body
into a bajillion pieces break
though anniversary of birth,
I intended to write, but... did rake
akin to hot coals, an overwhelming agony
wrought urgent compulsion to slake
expunging sudden onset, shook me awake,
how this papa brought years of heartache,
upon an innocent newborn,
oh no...definitely "not fake,"
and her elder protective sibling Eden
(understandable not to forgive), - who lake
(like) an "uber quasi mother"
did welcome thee with a fair shake
(twenty Earth orbitz ago February 4th, 2019)
metamorphosed into such an adoring, giving,
and loving lass unbeknownst, when she did make
her debut (passing the
Apgar test with flying colors) for goodness sake
cuz, I betcha you studied while in utero,
thus said standard assessment involving intake
and outflow of breath
as seconds old infant piece of cake,
and unexpected eruption of despair,
thus found me sinking into melancholy air
and compounded as "mother",
and I became aware
how cognitive skills
(additionally low body weight) clear
lee delayed triggering screaming
bouts from thee dear
special Punim, and
oft times this papa flare
with frustration and volley with
reciprocated enraged voice
imbecile and juvenile antics of mine clear
lee heard outside 1148 Greentree Lane
neighbors possibly a grizzly bear
broke loose from the zoo,
or other beast escaped their lair,
thus prompting me to post a sign beware
of the ferocious father, and dare
to enter at your own risk,
and do not forget to mutter a prayer
lest ye be swallowed in one fell swoop,
and nobody would hear
from that person again
cannibalized by Matthew
Scott mailer daemon,
whose surly mood embittered by rare
stints of employment, otherwise we lived
dirt poor surviving on diet of worms, I swear
to be totally "FAKE",
but hyperbole to lyft shaky spear
writs.
Wisdom is garnered from time,
yet patience is new to youth.
And juvenile emotions;
seek flattery, more than truth.
Passions flounder, as hopes drown
on shallow shoals of remorse.
For navigating through lies,
Love begins to drift off course.
Feeling lost and unwanted,
you miss youth's laughter and fun.
And devastating your heart,
trust fades, until there is none.
You feel fledgling feelings flex
wings of hope: despite despair.
For, although intangible,
true love is beyond compare.
The fabric of love is an
intricate, delicate weave.
And like any miracle,
all it asks is you believe.