Long Laminate Poems
Long Laminate Poems. Below are the most popular long Laminate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Laminate poems by poem length and keyword.
Oh how I miss it the rush the roar
Feeling with one more push yet I could soar
I felt it in many ways and at many times
That a moment in the future would be perfect rhyme
There were three types 'pon which I could expound
Three times of moment, of philosophy profound
One is the When, when the air was to shriek
When speed built so great and heart craved final leap
Another was blood, of fist and of flesh
Springing from deep rage, of fury tempest
The last was surprising, in dichotomy, appearance
That love could climax, make di-saster imminent
For the first I paid money, and thought it unjust
Bought as it was with a temp'ry, pointless rush
The second brought pain, and a glimpse of myself
Troglodyte 'neath skin, released but now shelfed
The third was a shock, which for long I did hunger
And when was found surprised, pulled in with soft succor
There it held me with its sweet soft embrace
A constant taken granted, of satin and lace
Yet from which did I learn, do I agonize
As I move on through life, constant analyze
Maybe the first, for I saw foolish youth
And see my impulses, for all they - uncouth
Possibly the second, as it showed me the power
Of the demon which inside each of us does glower
Of most moment is third, that constantly beckons
It consumes all man's mind, makes constantly reckon
Yes, for now I do contemplate
And ponder my fate
As I career and seek sate
In my painter's laminate
My longed-for mate
Is yet to amaze
I thought I had made
But she left, at last spate
Now I imagine one other of late
But she is born either of love or of hate
I know not now which, for it is a race
To see which blooms first, my love or my hate
Two battle for soul, one light and one dark
They both see me true, but one must depart
The one who loves without reason or guile or mark
Must decide whether I can be light or my current dark
The one who does not try, yet holds me awry
Must one day she straighten, decide love or lie...
I hid
Bricks formed into a patchwork ochre cuboid
The planet
One side in unforgiving chill
And the other
Nauseating dry light
I hid
To avoid a swollen face
And sores on my head
No desire to become an eighties horror victim
To counter the boxed equinox cool
I tanned water
Released refined stimulants
And lactic secretions
The shadows were faded but still shields
Even at their stretched translucent corners
But a spiced wind tricked
And whetted a need for wetness
Plastic clashed and rolled
On the seared and warped laminate
Toes thumped
A T-Rex charge
To the kitchen
We, however, spoke of banal
Boring, grown up tediousness
Spent leaves rustled in black
A stained spoon
Rattled and ricocheted
To bleed on steel
My weathered pale lips pressed
And did a series of tiny sips
In the shrunken extension
I reengaged the exchange
And contrived
A blueprint for the next 168 hours
Then IT happened
I felt flesh tickle
On his palms and patellas.
Just in plain white pants.
One peck.
On top of my right foot.
"What are you doing?"
"You told me. That in some
Places people kiss each
Others feet to show them.
That.
They love them.
And.
I.
I LOVE YOU."
My chest felt hollow
And my legs felt magnetised
Consecrated by a toddler
I hesitated mid inhalation
And descended to pray
A spine formed a low bridge
As I kissed both of his soft feet
Twice
It was one of the greatest gifts I ever received
All I could say was
"Thank You"
I squeezed his
Naked chest
I was washed by a lobster pigment
And in three seconds a blink away from a tear
I pray to God that it will be a brighter day;
I want his warmth to clothe me day after day
Someday, the sun will erase all of my doubts
and push away the clouds…
I want to be a positive schoolboy – but the clouds
Cover me like mesmerizing, despondent shrouds
I want to be a positive youngster – I need to stay
True to my unaccomplished goals everyday
Lord, I know life has its ups and downs – but, I must keep a steady pace…
I want to develop a stable mentality with no trace of pity
Lord, I know life gets problematic in the long run – I FEAR I might fall on my face
I just want to be content – I want my dreams to become a reality
I'll be loving you forever…
for you’re the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep at night
I’ll take a moment just to ponder…
About you and our time together – thinking about you restores hope, joy and might
our love is wholesome and so much more…
our love will grow on forevermore…
our love is real and it’s a great deal…
our love is beyond measure and it’s totally real…
Our Love is oh so surreal
You melt my anguish away…
Our love can heal a broken heart
You cherish me in the month of May
You blow away winter’s dismay
I pray to God for a more optimistic mindset…
Hopefully it doesn’t result in forfeits
Push away the gray…and laminate it with a striking sunset,
I’m drowning in his inclement, rainy regrets
I’ll make sure to embrace competition…
for you're my reason I run the extra mile, winning honor and applauds
I’ll take a moment to pursue my ambition...
Of being with you always and forever – I fear I might lose all of my odds
With you…your heart isn’t pumping with vile frauds
Every single second spent with you…
Makes my spirit soar anew...
I never experienced such surreal love
Our love flourishes rapidly from up above
I’m sick with a love flu *cough* *cough*
IF YOU MOURN FOR ME, MOURN HAPPY
He sat on the laminate floor reading poems he had written years ago
He read them and asked himself did I really write these?
He was surprised the poems were that good
After all these years, they’re still good and relevant, he said to himself
Though he had been published in a few magazines many years ago
he was never considered to be at the top rung of the list of poets
The more he read his poems the more his tears flowed
memories flooded his mind of his ill-fated expectations
But Life is what it is
only passing out a few genius tags in any field
when looking for glory in any artistic endeavor
leaving your ego at the entrance of the work room is critical
Mindful that all work is only as good as the artist’s diligence
It’s the work that’s ultimately important he told himself
In his youth he looked for the payoff and waited for glory but
unable to comprehend Life's vagaries, expectation died losing the dream
Later, in understanding those truths
Reality became more evident
He had gotten old and wiser
But not necessarily smarter
Adulthood might have shown up sooner with patience
but comprehending the end times are around the corner
is like knowing the rent is due and the landlord will kick you out
or when a good musician disappears in the ether of a killer addiction
Or like God’s benevolent hands around your throat
with happy Satan laughing in your face
or the pathetic smile we display when remembering
the man that was and the words he wrote as an old man
Today if by chance you see me lying dead you may mourn for me
let your feelings go as a bluesman lets go into the blues
a lesson in acceptance and surrender
So if you mourn me, mourn happy.
For the first time
since the end of Summer,
Mr. Nobody wears his socks to bed,
a sad admission that
things were going to get worse.
Can't count on the
warmth of mother nature's breast
to keep his mammalian nature intact.
When he wears his socks
and he pulls the thin duvet and the
extra purple woven Dacron blanket
up over himself he feels
warm enough to sleep.
The cat, Missy, who sleeps on his bed
wants to go out. This is Mr. Nobody's worse fear,
like a fear of urination
a fear that keeps him from resting.
Mr. Nobody throws off the blankets, rises,
swings his legs over the side of the bed
and rests his feet on the cold wood laminate floor.
He shuffles to the door
Missy follows.
Opening the back door, he feels
the dread of the betrayal.
Missy scoots out.
Now, before he can sleep, Mr. Nobody has to remember
to find her and let her in again, realizing now that
William, the male cat had been let out earlier.
He will have to recover them both.
Mr. Nobody doesn’t know why he cares so much
about the discomforts of the cats.
He doesn't know if they suffer the terrors
of the failing pact with nature as much as he,
probably they do not.
Mr. Nobody returns to bed, pulls the cover-sandwich package
over his legs then over his chest. He rests,
planning to rise in an hour to go out and find the cats.
Mr. Nobody is certain that when he calls the cats
after an obligatory time
they will agree to follow him,
almost as if they know what's
good for them.
"A silenced tongue weighs heavy against the soul," quote by poet.
I sit amongst a single light,
light illuminating a hand-built oaken desk,
desk with pictures of the past lay out randomly around me,
whilst I hear the whoosh of her oxygen machine droning on—
breathing life into her failing lungs.
Drowning in overwhelming emotions,
I seek an outlet to release control from my quietly weeping heartquakes.
Opening the drawer, I reach for a piece of aged parchment paper,
resting beside an unused fountain pen.
Wiping the tears from my ears,
I begin to scribble with fire-tipped ferocity.
As the rain starts to descend, sliding down my window,
a dam breaks in my psyche—words pour forth,
releasing tortured moments long dormant beneath countless masks.
One by one, they slip, shattering to the laminate floor,
releasing the marionette strings from my breaking back.
Against her wishes, I enter my stinging words into contests—
rejection followed by acceptance, followed by rejection once again.
But with every acceptance, her voice ~ not quite silent ~ not quite kind ~ disapproval grows quieter,
until it shrinks into nothing but a mere blip,
lost among endless affirmations.Affirmations that, with each win, chip at the rusted chains
encasing my silenced cage.
And even within the confines of the losses,
I've been rekindled in faith
that a voice once stolen will sing again.
*heartquakes ~ inner conflict, vulnerability, emotional storm within, grief..
I am thankful;
That my life was blessed,
For the very best,
By yours-
I know of your trials;
The great depression,
This is my session,
To let you know,
I may not be,
Ready to go,
You’ll understand,
You’ll take my hand,
I hear of my dad-
Makin that bottle rocket,
He was so out of pocket,
When it busted open my aunt’s thigh,
And you can’t explain why,
Your father left those ones and wine,
But you insist we find,
It-
And ****,
I took you for granted,
When I angrily ranted,
Over such petty things;
Those gypsy rings,
This special memory,
And what you’ve said to me,
Will always stay,
I’ll never stray,
In my remembrance,
All those Estee Lauder scents,
And each time you put your two cents,
In-
How you always wanted ME to win;
B-I-N-G-O;
I think you outta know,
This changed my life,
Though debilitating strife,
It’s washed me,
Guided me;
To the right location,
My imagination,
Run wild with-
Images of,
You above;
In a perfumed garden,
My heart hardens,
When I realize,
Never again crystallized,
In front of me,
Will you be-
I’m missin you,
It’s too true,
But you would be proud,
Your shout would pierce loud,
Seeing where I am now,
You were my treasured pal,
No more-
And I’m on the floor,
Mourning on the laminate-
In front of your corpse-
But I’m thankful;
Because I’ve been blessed with,
Your angelic presence.
Achieve greatness by running a race.
Break sound barriers- just go to outer space!
Climb a mountain to get a good workout.
Deliver a speech- you'll probably have to shout...
Earn some money by helping clean up.
Film a video where you put on makeup.
Graduate college, online, of course!!!
Hire for the future; build a great workforce!
Improvise a sketch and perform it for all.
Just watch a sad movie, and prepare to bawl.
Kidnap an animal, then keep it for yourself...
Laminate bookmarks and organize your bookshelf!
Make some yummy cookies, brownies, or a cake.
Nestle in; watch a show where all they do is bake.
Optimize your storage; start with the dresser...
Poke around a bit to find some hidden treasure!
Qualify for a job, or just peek at the website...
Read some poems; mine are sure to excite!!!
Sleep all day, then pull an all-nighter.
Take some time to become a songwriter!
Unfold some origami, and then fold it back again.
Vandalize something, if you can't, just plan when...
Wander around, and pretend you're mist.
X-out something on your bucket list.
Yammer on about your favorite subject.
Zip your zipper obsessively- jeez... are you occupied yet????
The sadness is creeping
It is taking over my whole being
The insecurity, the self loathing
The constant longing to be somewhere else
Someone else
The endless days
The endless nights
The endless nightmare
That is my life
How I wish to be happy
How I wish to be carefree
How I wish for days gone by
To be the person I once was
I am stuck in this never ending circle
It goes around and around
I can't break through
I am not strong enough now
I have been worn and torn
And am no longer complete
I am broken inside
Like a shattered windscreen
Just holding together by a thin laminate
It is like being stuck in a well
Looking up at the world going by
I put on a front so that nobody knows
I don't want to see the pity in their eyes
I don't want then to know that I am weak
So I keep on keeping on
Smiling along at them talking
Though not really taking them in
My eyes glaze over as they tell me their stories
Though all I think about is my dark place
The place which is now my home
The place which I dread I will live forever
This is my bed and it is here that I lie
Like a stone at the bottom of a lake
Heavy and lifeless
Muddy and worn and being buried more each day
One of these depressed, depraved, morbid nights
I shall awake to the God damned game of life
And sit under the graying light
Of the foolish full moon
And laminate upon my luminance
And chew up the garments of past lives
And cry my soul
But no one will hear the plight of my mind
On strike for better wages
And more love
Thus, I will sit, and think and dream
Dreams that no one ever before dreamt
It is so very lonely being a foolish lunatic
But then as I drink to oblivion
I begin to think
Of all those things that I have not experienced
And wonder with a vengeance
Why God hates me so
Or is it only an illusion?
When will I awake
Or do we just sit waiting for more beer
To cover up
The stench of putrid rotting flesh
Waiting for death to take us away
To the Cosmic garbage dump in the sky
Trying to communicate across a gap
That is light years’ long
And will never close
For man was not made to know
The real thoughts of another
Man was made to suffer, cry and wait
For the party in Hell afterwards
, let’s us die and be done with it
Or live without our God damned dreams
Running our thoughts
Into pits of depraved madness