Long Lady Poems
Long Lady Poems. Below are the most popular long Lady by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lady poems by poem length and keyword.
AFTER I finish this poem and all
the alphabets are in bed
you can walk with me down the hill
where the stream is, lady
where fish dream they are stars
(now this blows my mind -- but
there they are)
Looking within their eyes with a
suddenly unsaid voice they spoke
while smoking mexican grass
And the toads croak lightly
singing, "Run upon the stones
across our river"
I ran and stepped across all
the stones and crevasses
and I found myself upon the Mountain
And there came a poetess who sang,
"Come, hold my hand, along brittle
treacherous bright streets
of memory -- ooh, come my heart,
you idiot, yealing like a drunken man!
We can be asleep, elsewhere our dreams begin
run upon my stones:
Ici? Ah non. Mon chéri, il fait trop froid.
I say again, "Here? Oh no. My drear, it is
too cold!"
The farm is in ice so Chevaux do bois!
:: 06.05.2024 ::
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
Warm sunlight
Dance of fond beams;
Touch of magic
~~~~~~~~~
Lovely lady
Walks with beauty;
Blossomy bright
~~~~~~~~~
Day hurls
Shadows flee;
Sun beams smile
~~~~~~~~~
Uncertainty
Presides well;
Only men wallow
~~~~~~~~~
Drop by drop
Pretty things gather;
An entire ocean
~~~~~~~~~
Somnolent weather
Hot and humid;
Sticky intrusion
~~~~~~~~~
Petty characters
Argue and fight;
Drama in a flash
~~~~~~~~~
Waltz in sure spill
Bliss ever thrills;
Whim moves will
~~~~~~~~~
New playground here
Childlike moods swings;
New buzz glows
~~~~~~~~~
Look and see
Beauty blooms;
Mystic moments
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
07 April 2016
Singapore
To the lady who sees me as I am,
To the lady who sees me as a book,
Turning through my pages,
Straightening its dog ears,
Reading between the lines.
To the lady to whom I stand as a mirror,
Reflecting beyond my charm and calm,
Reaching for the hidden part of me,
Seeing the night that comes to my room,
Knowing that I add stars to its sky.
To the lady who said I do,
Despite my shades and fades,
Polishing my weathered surface,
Waiting for my shrivelled meadow to bloom,
Anticipating the sprout of my feeble boughs.
To the lady who knows my mother has a pride of place in me,
She has read the ode I wrote to my mother,
But still knows that she’s not barricaded from my heart’s door,
The fragrance that pervades my room,
She’s the purple flower in my garden.
April 29, 2024.
Who are you
Dan McGrew?
You sound quite mean
If rumours' true
You lodged yourself
Inside his head
Some seventy years
Still, now you're dead
A tale of love
Of bars and booze
The wheel of fate
Alas, you lose
The west was wild
Back in the day
As danger framed
Each male afray
But what of Lou?
The lady fair
Of unkissed lips
And tousled hair
A broken heart
May never mend
A scar unhealed
Until the end
So as our story
Precious told
Still held in head
Though tired and old
A life not lost
No shooting here
Just words uncovered
Crystal clear
By man with joy
For life, 'tis true
May soon reunite
With his own lady Lou
Marquees are bright with neon lights, where crowds line up for movie night
Holding hands, we're in 'The Strand'. The velvet carpet guides us in
Popcorn smokes, .. we're drinking cokes,... and cracking jokes with Bing and Hope
Lamour's along with more sarongs,... , her luscious lips, and cigarettes,
She fills ashtrays with smoking tips, and tosses guys like poker chips
'Movietone' intrudes with news, and soon we're in somber mood
Third-Reich goosesteps march again, ... an evil presence in the wind...
Cary Grant , (a news reporter), loves his girl, and his typewriter
"His Girl Friday", plot is witty, sometimes crazy. But Cary loves this ditzy lady....
William Powell and Mryna Loy..., Asta barks, and finds a toy, ...a ploy? a clue?,....
...an earring gold. The mystery is clearly solved.-- A crimson sun, is rising cold!
Movietone in black and white,... graphic scenes, where soldiers die
Another night, suspense on chart. 'Correspondent' , Joel McCrea.
Saves Lorraine, and claims the Day. BUY WAR BONDs !! They'll pave the way
Bogart, Bergman bring to light, a valiant flght , within their grasp
Airline ticket, in her hand, they must part, and do what's right, no questions asked
----
It's movie night, but you aren't here, a troopship took you far from here
Allied troops are moving tanks. I wait for you..God give me strength
I'm in the Strand, within the dark, there's no one here to hold my hand
I'm all alone...........I heard the news....................You left it all in Anzio
_____________________________________
For Contest Chopped III Sponsored by Craig Cornish
11/23/14
Foundation of the piece.
Mother's play such an integral, important part of a child's early life. And expands into everything else.
If you're lucky.
This piece is just a simple representation of that lasting legacy.
Did your mother leave a secret room in your heart, where she still lives?
Title:
Lucy
(A lone voice whispers)
I once held tightly
With small arms
A white candle that burnt with the heavenly perfume of total joy
Loved lighting and embracing its light whenever she called around
My mother
Lucy
To my bedroom to tell me such remarkable childhood stories
Hold my hand
When I was her little boy
When Love burnt so bright
And that flame seemed to last throughout
Every long scary night
But now that heavenly flame no longer burns
For to Heaven's Great Gates
She has returned
So here I am
In Saint Paul's
Lighting a votive candle
This Sunday
As I enter its four alabaster walls
For even though my white candle has gone out
And the long nights
Seem so much more darker
Our deep love forever takes a more profound meaning
Whenever I see her beautiful face
In our favourite silver Elsa Peretti picture frame
We picked together last May
On the twenty-first
At Tiffany & Co
When my wife and I covered her
In our pink and blue wedding confetti
The first lady to love me when God sent me
To go
Face the trials and tribulations
That comes with living on the earthly plane
And now that deep love resonates and vibrates into oblivion
For even though she had to depart
She now lives forever in a secret room
In the centre of our beating hearts
Proudly smiling and watching
Me and my Kelley
As our love for us
And her
Like an eternal white rose
Too Blooms
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
The Aging Cello
This aging Cello’s beauty starts to fade,
and once taut strings now sadly stretched and frayed,
but still her luscious curves remaining staid,
yet silent are the mournful notes she played.
The rigid Bow that once caressed her strings,
and brought soft sighs that lifted up on wings
and drifted with the gentle breeze of spring,
no longer there to make this lady sing.
The tender notes that drifted in the air,
and gently wrapped around this lady fair,
no longer bring these coupled hearts to bear
the tender moments of their sweet affair.
Without her Bow the lady’s on her own
while standing in the shadows all alone,
and gone the mournful melodies once known
as aging Cello’s tender dreams have flown.
December 4, 2020
My great grandmother had about 49 children, so she also, probably never slept at night.
They were a large happy-go-lucky farm family, so somebody had to do those great big chores, right?
My own grandpa was the oldest boy, who lived because some of their babies died before they got here,
Which meant grand pop and grand mom kept busy, making more neonates to replace the lost dears.
One time when we had begged to spend the night with great-grandmom, who was about 83,
We convinced her to make it a real slumber party, you need to invite some cousins, at least twenty-three.
She said the next morning, “Why do they call it a slumber party when not one of these children slept?”
But we didn’t hear her, because the twenty-five of us on the couch were snoring logs, as all around us, this tired 83 year old crept.
Grandmom had to bake the bread that day, so we’d have plenty, after all, at the store they want a quarter a piece.
She had to wash the clothes, and build a swingset, take down the chicken house, and scold her lazy slept-until-five-a.m.-again niece.
She had to chop some wood, ‘cause that little house’s heater had exploded in the middle of the nice.
When we woke up we were clamoring for another slumber party, but she said,”Fool me once, but you dead-heads could certainly not fool me twice.“
This little lady was about four foot eight, yet, 18 children were in complete and reverent awe of her.
Twenty-seven of her grandchildren were at her beck and call, and twenty-one were forever near.
My grandpa, Harland, was twice as tall, but when she pulled him down the ear, he went, sadly and quick.
She was a lively little thing, with pretty dresses, and a life that was amazingly slick!
She lived to be 105, and a half, easy life? Try to have 49 children, if you dare!
I can assure you, people readers, and you’d better believe, you will never be lonely, or have a care.
That’s not shared by 49 relatives you have created, a slew of amazing worker-bee people you love.
And death stops nothing. NOTHING! To this day, I feel my great grandma McCormick watching me from above.
I want to know where love is". Where have you been looking?
"Love will turn you around". How do you know?
"You want twice, three times ah lady". Wow, I want that many lol.
"I remember how you love me". You'd better haha.
"Baby, I want you". How much do you want me? lol
"Hey, you got to hide your love away". Why? You got to?
"You are everything and everything is you". Lol, really?
"I never dream that I need somebody like you". Do you dream of anything else? haha
"When I need you, just close my eyes then I am with you". Okay okay I have too much of this
I think I will stop for now. All these dreamy songs are putting me to sleep. Good night.