Long Kneaded Poems
Long Kneaded Poems. Below are the most popular long Kneaded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kneaded poems by poem length and keyword.
WOVEN IN THREADS OF LOVE’S FORGIVENESS
Time-tested love, bruised and battered,
Lay like littered crystals, sprawled out
Over the steel-plated stage of life—
Dismembered and crumbled—
Like stale cookies, whose particles have lost
Their electromagnetic-like attractiveness:-
Ingredients of envious spices,
Try to inhibit any and all adhesiveness,
That tough, threading love has kneaded:-
However, seaming forgiveness, knits
And weaves supreme love together:
Cocooning new soaring beginnings.
Indeed, the most fragile butterfly wings—
Soaring in monarch majesty—have conquered
Time-tested winds of trials and tribulations:-
Yes, “...to err is human…and to forgive, divine.”
May the weaving threads of supreme love, forever
Twine and bind, these blessed hearts of yours and mine:-
Argh resolution between
self and eldest
dear daughter more remote,
now then locating
a left handed monkey wrench,
cuz she feels this papa
did deliberate smote
her upside the head, knocking
Eden Liat stone cold
in an abysmal trench
thus, this dada doth fear a mill
stone shaped albatross
around thy neck aye will tote,
where rotting bird
doth emit fetid oppressive stench
gloomily decry death asper,
paternal progeny blighted love
epitaph finis fate wrote.
Methinks (nee knows) marital infidelity
steep dividend warrant wrought
chances greater finding needle in haystack
versus pointless thought
exercise regarding deus ex machina sought
forgiveness ex post facto, rethought,
yet miracle needed, viz
twill require against overwrought
progeny's psyche mor'n
solo requiem Te Deum never sung,
hence no guarantee
father as overthought
against embarkation entailing,
nor divine chorus baptizing can nought
assuage besotted dada's flesh, handwrought
hence fiery eternal damnation
no gunsmoke match e'en gunfought
by Jesse James, no penitence
bequeathed only dreadnought
visa vis admitting how affair
kneaded joyus kindling brought
philandering husband discovered
emotional refuge (against spousal
epithet strewn expletive language,
whence mistress besought
similar sexual satisfaction,
and subsequent fallout an afterthought.
retrospective reflection stills nothing
more serious then slap on the wrist
while engaged (~ January 2010) with
nothing sinful 'bout peccadillo tryst
understandable wife got sorely pissed
on the sly behaviour the missus
blindsided, hence over
looked and missed
and figurative wedge
cleft asunder nearly kissed
our marriage goodbye
extra-marital romp illicit,
though we nearly came to fist
sta cuffs, where salty crude name calling
in conjunction with execrable
derogatory cussing contribution complicit.
The early morning sunshine peeks
Over the majestic mountain peaks
The mother louse , would quietly knit
A butterfly sweater for her newborn nit
Twenty pounds of dough has been kneaded
For eighty-one cheery pies the VFW needed
On a beautiful , brilliant, Blue Moon night
A fair maiden :Rescued by Sir Valiant knight
My Heartbeats life again : it has found someone New
My Dearest Barbeeg, Barbara Jean : I LOVE YOU
“ I Thought YOU Knew “
In Dedication to Barbara Jean Gorelick
A great and Devine recipe
Alas He brew one day
The Gospel worked great wonders
Precious blood did make a way.
Hebrew vessels, chosen jewels
Their descendants were the prick
That Paul before conversion
Against the same did kick.
Many calculated numbers
Of ingredients he mixed
Negatives and positives
A spiritual arithmetic.
Unknown integers he added
On his name destined to call
Filling up the empty places
Of the ones that didn't fall.
Factors traveling a time line
Squared and powered, proposed to
Change the world of doomed and dying
To a beloved city, new.
When just a cup full of injustice
And a pinch of bigotry.
Jealousy running rampant
Spreading pain and cruelty,
Scoops of undetermined rages
Shredded truths and kneaded lies;
Seasoned slabs of accusations
Pots of reeking compromise,
Strained to slip into the mixture
To turn bitter all the sweet
So death might come to weary pilgrims
Needing rest and food to eat.
"Come drink my blood and eat my body
In communing, you shall find
The kingdom gates are always open
To weary travelers all the time".
Says Emmanuel , standing patient
Interceding at the door,
Whose blood is more than sufficient
For those who stray forever more.
RETA PRUITT
August 1, 2016
Welcome to the market place of the best in all mankind
buy paintings of imaginings with brushstrokes of the mind.
Words of vivd colour, tapestries of rhyme are shown,
your ears filled with the consonant sound of verses being sewn.
Watch as pots of raw emotion, mixed before your eyes
intelligently kneaded, put aside and left to rise.
Heated with strong passion piping hot straight from the bowl
with floating alphabet croutons to fill your hungry soul.
The Haiku makes a three course meal
and Senryus as well,
Acrostics you'll find satisfying, only for a short spell.
These artisans a hearty bunch, the kind you can rely on,
their aprons used to dry your tears, and
shoulders you can cry on.
The clanging from the wordsmith's forge, as new verses are pressed,
fragrant couplets blossoming, the nectar of the blessed.
A vibrant buzz in alleyways and shadowy secret places,
a warm and friendly welcome to the boatloads of new faces.
No haggling and waving hands, negotiating price,
from ABC to Villanelle it's all free (which is nice).
No chance of meeting Cobras here, so please don't be alarmed,
it's just the meter, rhythm and rhyme that leave customers charmed.
Enjoy yourself, feel free to roam, we're open every day,
there's space here for a stall for you, like us-
you're bound to stay x
To the right
Is where I slept every night
Welcoming tomorrow’s knowledge might
Shining bright
Illuminating intellectual light
Using my sight
To see
Me
And you together
Braving life’s tumultuous weather
Navigating thunderbolt-fast spears
Not showing, any fears
Since I am a trained, in how to communicate
Say what I need to state
Keeping our romantic conversation going
As we perform our daily rowing
Through debatable wakes
Healthy dialogue we make
To the left
I act like a ref
Hardly, judging many wrongs
From those suffering a long
After performing a miscue
Maybe being a fool
Heal is what I do
Not knowing who
The stranger I just met
Stomach said was upset
Prescription I scripted, ‘a hug’
Spread rapidly, diagnosed family bug
Grounded love
Delivered by, Almighty above
Chapel sunset
Is now what we get
Towering over us all
As we studied on the mall
Removing an international wall
Thoughtful kindness, strategy is the call
Standing tall
Keeping alive
Moral beehive
Buzz created
Attitude seeded
And kneaded
Baked with flour
Giving us the power
Kelly, Farrel and Weigand
Are the building we had our social academic meetings
Strength, we each other gave
And at times we did misbehave
Claiming lesson learned
Always concerned
Being firm
Completing the eight terms
Graduating at the end
Message we did send
‘It is our honest, truth
Raising the roof
Proclaiming degree proof
Future is ours
And direct us to the Holy Spirit bar’
One would think that the feeling of being a slave would create understanding
One would think that racism would die off and cease to overtake our surrounding
Equality has become but a faint memory buried with a man Africa once so greatly looked up to
Labels still floating around, separation amongst people. All subject to the race or ethnic group they belong to
Don’t you think there was a little furry passed with a law?
Just a little vengeance kneaded in, tables turned, no longer holding the short end of the straw?
So arose the system with a pretty name “Affirmative action”.
5-1 the number of bullets in the gun gradually making a subtraction
Acquiring our positions based on our skin colour instead of based upon or level of education
Supressing the “Suppressors” with lethal repercussions and lack of evaluation
So carry on placing the one colour above the other, turning us against each other until the streets run red with anarchy
Then hypocritically teach your kids about equality, living one foot in and one foot out of controversy.
One would think we as a nation would learn from a neighbouring sunken country. Stay united and grow far beyond expectation
One can only hope for these lines to be erased, for skin colour, gender and religion factors to be cancelled out and do away with exaggeration
The world is the way it is and shall remain as such, the universe will be the way it should be keeping the balance as top priority
So even if I cannot change the world. With my words I keep spreading the love! One of the minority.
Young Timmy procured a small lacertilian,
Envisioning quite a grand master reptilian.
It sat on the culinary table in state,
Gulping down the cheap scraps put on its plate.
The reptile expanded twelve inches a day,
And kicked the poor terrified house cat away.
It swallowed a massive, hand-kneaded loaf—
He’s a beast now, no longer a pet or an oaf.
Timmy watched while adjusting his neon-green cap.
It sprouted a pair of scaly wings,
Obscuring the view of all municipal things.
It perched on the roof of the family sedan,
And exhaled a smoke that choked the whole clan.
The populace panicked and called for the mayor,
While Timmy was grooming his saurian’s hair.
"He lacks any malice," the youngster asserted,
"He merely requires a land more deserted."
The city’s high leaders decreed it was best,
To kick the whole mess out into the west;
Now Timmy, astride his draconian prize,
Is roasting the cows on the pastoral highs.
Epilogue
The western frontier is now completely ablaze,
Obscured by a thick and administrative haze.
The boy and his beast have established a state,
Revising the regional tax structure rate.
The local department of wildlife agrees,
The dragon can nest wherever he please.
They manage the landscape with ultimate power,
Extracting a bureaucratic fee by the hour.
Another typical insipid day
the sweet, crimson glowing ember
falling revealing the lustrous serenity
of kaleidoscopic skies
Elysian whispers around
my remaining canvas of arid
Gossamer and prosaic filled voids
replaces citrine, saffron nirvana
Bodies surrounding shimmer effulgent colors
I'm yet to remain in my dull ashen-sparked cave
A sudden delirious shriek
gleeful, exuberant faces
twisted into pale onyx terror
An apocalyptic doomsday guaranteed
Terminal of mankind ; destruction of
of earth prophesied
Everyone's glistening resplendent canvases
splattered grim trepidation
Painted with oblivion; like mine
with included kneaded dollops of overwrought
Perhaps the revolutionary, prodigious hysteria
sparked fluorescent inspiration
My ebony pedestrian now being sparkled
in an euphoric nostalgic feeling
A persistent voice echoing;
...
An exploded erosion of scarlet filled emotions
I clutch my brush and become the creator I once was;
Amongst the cacophonic abyss
painting an ephemeral, nebulous word
into my perennial realms of cerulean hopes
Brushstrokes of light touched canary among daffodil fields
Turning into shapes of radiant marigold inspiration
painted over leftovers of monotonous drab
In the end's haunting echo of emptiness
I found my exuberant-buttercup passions of a sunlit meadow
My bolstering voice of ivory whispered inspirations
I am an azure propelling star among cobalt filled echoes
of forgotten melodies
I've reimagined my painted chiaroscuro perspectives,
crafting a bold artistic masterpiece
Lips, you pass so close
From a kiss to words
Corollas of knowledge
And of pleasure
What are you doing here
On this deserted face
Kneaded by a bare silence
Without a halo
Aren’t you afraid
Of being late bloomers
Of crossing your borders
Into an unreal land?
Yet your edges tremble
And the skin begins to see
As if the ancient spring
Reopened the evening
To see the day
Is to open the sky
To see the day
Is all of infinity
To see the day
Is to leave the shadow
And the primal water
Takes us back
(To see the day)
(It is to open the sky)
There, the eyes gather
A timeless light
It slides on the cheek
Like fruit on the sand
And this chastity
Is not coldness
It is a hand of a spring
At the edge of the face
Aren’t you afraid
Of being late bloomers
Of crossing your borders
Into an unreal land?
Yet your edges tremble
And the skin begins to see
As if the ancient spring
Reopened the evening
To see the day
Is to open the sky
To see the day
Is all of infinity
To see the day
Is to leave the shadow