Long Knacks Poems
Long Knacks Poems. Below are the most popular long Knacks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Knacks poems by poem length and keyword.
I remember now. Something was heavy, a winged
dragon that refused to fly from my chest
My eyes were secret mirrors, or a doomsday judge.
I remember morning as a flighty horse,
or like a new school year,
that first careful sentence written on a page.
Time became a sequel. Roads were rootless trees
racing by - Fog an x-ray – the night, annoying as a fly.
I had a misconception and her assumptions followed
every stray dog. I quivered hollow with a frantic yellow zest.
I ate from a dish of nutmeg.
I woke to the sound of dying frogs, impossible spiders
trapping rainbows in their webs, the nebulous orbit
of knick knacks in the room, my reach
too small for a mother’s heart.
Her seeds had such an element of surprise, her
plum lipstick, the zing of frayed nerves
she mocked death with a cup of sunshine
she kept an artist’s palette - adding
color to existence
Too late, the impossible demand on angels
Each bitter thought the baroque decomposing
of an empty optimism
My keyless lock - emotion
Premiere Contest number 12
Contest Judged: 9/24/2016 12:01:00 AM
Sponsored by: SKAT A
Placed 9out of 10
Entered in the Best Poem worthy of a Trophy
I have entered this poem because it came from
out of the ether. Some poems just do.
Deeply felt almost not understood but felt on a visceral level.
N/A’d
Such wondrous things that come to you from travels far and wide.
Trinkets and knick knacks you keep somewhat near at hand, and never too far from your side.
Throughout life's journeys You'll check on them for fear they'll be left behind.
Being of meaningful purpose; that's remembered whenever they cross your mind.
Naively not that you're rashly in love; although of them
your feelings are warm and kind.
Solely fond memories of notable times; ergo they're ne'er out of place nor ever hard to find
'Tis odd you must hold onto them whether your abode's a fancy home or merely a shared cot.
You realize as long as they're safely tucked away, in the place of "Forget Me Nots";
You're strangely better off with them__even if they're all that you have or got.
~~~ w 11172018
Good morning! Hear ye these forecasts so sure:
Today, we greet a cloudy disclosure
expressing to us “no-sun” exposure…
let’s bask under heavenly rays’ pleasure
thanking God for rainy weather’s pressure
to welcome great blessing-showers' treasure
abundant for sharing beyond love's measure.
Tomorrow, we can get out from barracks
unmindful of distress-scorching attacks
midst sunny mood toward camp with back packs
full of delicious and nutritious snacks
to be relaxed from storm-hit service tracks
oblivious of thunder’s deterring knacks…
By the way, be warned of alarm clocks’ cracks.
Next week, we continue our journey flight
since climate is so well before our sight
let’s keep on doing what is good and right
exalting the Lord, braced by faith’s delight
worshipping Him midst fair weather* day light
then praying before a sound sleep at night…
This is your funny forecaster, leaving you love’s might.
*Job 37:22 Fair weather cometh out of the north: with God is terrible majesty.
March 20, 2022
(Light verse Poem in Rhyme Form)
Edited on October 6, 2023
Coming out of my prison door
Accompanied by my companion
Not connected in any way
....but I knew him
Barren wasteland, behind
Freedom beckons my will
I do NOT stop for direction
But run headlong into the chill
Wrapped tightly in failed attempts
To connect to anyone with value
I struggled in the comfort
To rest in the battle
I came to myself....
I had traded lock down
For house arrest
No movement possible
In my shiny, white, vest
........of broken threads
"A little help, please"
My companion touched my white
The shredded hope fell at his feet
As he directed me to the right where I would find the light
Door after door
Window upon window
Always passing through
Never knowing the compass of victory
Til I have done all I can do"
....to stand
Stand moment after eternal moment
In nothingness....learning to trust
Calming down desire
Singing lullabies to lust
Silence is far worse than the stand
The incessant push to understand
.....something....anything..............nope, still NOTHING!!!
How can one connect to authority
Without yielding up self
Carrying out their desires and commands
And leaving yours to collect dust bunnies on a knick knack shelf
...........stupid knick knacks.......stop running.........you might break.........the pretties
Today....at this very moment
I understand things I didn't in my past
I see the dark laid out before me
Shall I stop my flow...to ponder
Or continue in my sorrow, believing I will know more in the 'morrow
Accepting that my yielded connections will have no more erections
..........to wonder......
...............................in the desert........
Written by Trudy Schrader on 03/30/2021
When we are walking…
and we’re stepping on a spiky ground,
Walk lightly without looking down or turning around;
Ahead of us always awaits the finest sand
where we can lay down and laze in the sun.
When we are climbing…
and we’re going to climb a scree,
Dodge those stones that roll down on us freely;
And if we feel disdain and in vain,
remember that we’re unique, with special knacks and strength.
When we’re swimming…
and we’re swimming on distraught of morass counts,
keep dancing the minuet of life in mellow sounds;
When sable clouds and torrents of rain teem down too,
swim at our best stoke, on those clouds we’ll always float and glow.
When we are loving…
and we’re loving too much from the heart,
It hurts, but Cupid also heals wound with his magic dart;
Keep on loving others, never stifle and give up
Love is a berth of comfort, a precious gift, a great reward.
When we are standing…
and we’re lashed by cataclysm that mangled our heart,
Cling to the Lord, He will restore everything from the start;
He will reshape whatever was deformed
And make us stand straight, a forever cypress amidst the storm.
Dec. 9,2014 10.50pm
©2014Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
-I hope this humble poem of mine can inspire or uplift. God bless! This was not entered in a contest because it’s too late but it’s ok with me.
Inspired by... All those houses that long to be homes again.
For our house to become a home forever
By Michelle Morris
20/08/2024
I walk through this empty house
And can see it used to be a home
Filled with joy and laughter
A family who shared fun times
There are photos suspended in frames
Filled with memories and smiling moments
There are knick-knacks collected together
Some funny; and some meaningful
Where the sunlight dips through the window
I can see dust motes dancing in swirls
The family dog lounges in his sacred space
On the chaise lounge near the fireplace
Looking closer you start to notice things
Like only photos of young children are present
Every room is like a museum
Or a shrine to a perfect past wish
For we easily forget certain facts and details
In our yearning to keep certain memories perfect
We want to be able to reminisce
And act like things once went smoothly
But the dust has thickened over the years
The cobwebs house spiders that have taken over corners of rooms
The light has grown dim inside this house
And inside hearts where love was once pure
Funny how humans can take something beautiful
And twist it up and test it over and over
Until nothing is left but hearts spent
Empty and oftentimes bitter and resentful
I walk through rooms where time has stood still
I walk through rooms where life has moved on
And everywhere, everywhere there is hopelessness
For love and light no longer reside here
Bricks and mortar and pretty fabrics
Only create a decorated space for us to live
We have to choose who we share it with
And we have to choose how we will forge our lives together
Only with compassion and kindness
Loyalty, patience and respect
Can we create a nurturing environment
For our house to become a home forever
© Michelle Morris, 2024
He still fills her housecoats on cold nights.
The cat will always be the shadow of his hand.
He dwells on in this home as a recycling
of images that she swirls now with a finger
in the kitchen sink
while cleaning the china plates
he once bought for her.
He still molds his shape
in the stained fabric of his recliner.
His presence decorates and
remodels her un-passing thoughts.
The widow mourns, not at the cemetery,
but from the other side of a double bed.
She acknowledges
new days and their empty dawns
by arranging once shared nick-knacks
by not touching them at all.
She does however
place some sepia moments
in a shoe box he had provided
before the days turned colorless.
Wet streets, like wet streets after rain
hitting pavement like the slacking
of vexed heels before the squabble
of sun battling cloud, sun to win.
Rapid transit, like transience,
like de-coherence with the fade
of transition. Which one? Which one?
This is much like how the dance goes,
your eyes to my skin, to my lips.
In multitudes of shades just like
the weather, touching beyond it-
physicality. Remember.
It’s glitter, glitter hard to sweep
away. Everything echoes,
how long? And will it forever?
And does forever stand quiet
as shadow juxtaposed beside
forgotten dreams that fade away
to nothing? Like yin to the yang
of expedited packages
full of things we don’t remember
ordering. Discarded knick knacks,
antithesis of you. Because
I can imagine with faultless
precision the feel of your breath
on my cheek, the taste of your kiss.
a thing going something like salt
of the sea entwined with sweetness
and heat. I was here. You were there
beside me squeezing my small hand
on the beach, while I thought of ways
I’d start a poem about you.
With a hidden innuendo
like wet streets folded up into
a reference to the city
I love. The one where I met you.
" Obsession to live on memories losing past invites nostalgia." - Poet.
NOSTALGIA
Nostalgic notion nags for those already depressed.
Overwhelming obsession to reminisce dead events.
Sickness to swing on search of old sentiments of bygone days.
Traveling back along path of memories longing for relishing fresh.
Approaching in vain to access on chapters of past life.
Lingering over lamentation or contentment met in adrift days.
Groaning, grating, grinding grasping forgotten knick-knacks.
Intense inclination to live on remembrances.
Alluring rumination of long-lost dreams once aglow now fading..
1/19/23
Getting through endeavors
Doing better
More focus on what is important instead of only pursuing pleasure
Even though ladies never give me the time of day
Like animals, I'm a stray
Just could not find my way
Deep down quite okay
I tell the truth, so it won't always be nice things I say
So much wrong in the world, no person should have been treated like a slave
Still today too many lives at stake
Jeopardizing people acting nice then snake
Regardless if they're asleep or wide awake
It's continuous occurring on since before the iron age
Is there any way to make the cycle change?
I have tried
24/7 at times
Took one step then hit landmines
Followed by a swarm of sand flies
I thought my heart had died
Because I flatlined
Now I just want love no bad vibes
It's what I always wanted, but I know that it's about damn time
If you let it too much toxic stuff can slide
I apologize if my mind is a bit hazy
Life get's crazy
I'm starting to like this lady
She thinks I'm similar to Slim Shady
Of our origin we still can't find a trace
Wake up we don't truly know if we evolved from primates
All these swines and fakes
These schmucks keep secrets and humans in a confined space
Had nothing to lose, then it turned high stakes
For too long was not in a nice place
Now got a better mind state
I still overdrink, and don't always hydrate
Like wild animals, I need to migrate
Much to achieve, so why wait?
Worldwide not just across five states
All this senseless violence and blind hate
I have improved
Back in the groove
Not the same old outlook and attitude
Working on making less bad moves
Despite being a lonely sad dude
I know that there is so much that I can do
And that that's true
A lot of bad luck
Instead of not giving a damn
In order to get through all the sad stuff
I had to become smarter work harder and man up
Making a splish splash
During the daylight or when it was pitch black
Often I'd give back
Having a profound impact
Occasionally I'll pop a tic-tac
Fiddle with knick-knacks
While at times in life it can get whack
Occasionally coming with whiplash
These clowns sweeter than a Kit-Kat
In a world full of endless chit-chat
Always over this and that
Despite speaking on it like it's a fact