Long Leve Poems
Long Leve Poems. Below are the most popular long Leve by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Leve poems by poem length and keyword.
a hundred thousand miles away
i know you wont hear me when i say
Just how much i love you, every single day
I know its too good to be true
but yet i stil lay on my roof and think of you
i look at the stars and realise how plain they are compared to you
beautiful in everything you do
dont try to argue, cuz you know its true
baby im the only ONE for you
yes baby i know wat ur gonna say and yes i love you too
kisses like crack
heart gone crazy for u its outta whack
lost in your heart and im never goin back
Your love is ecstacy
makes me wonder how much ur missin me
are u missin me like im missin you?
unlless u leave baby we'll make it through
best i ever had like drake promise you
ime the one that always has to settle
but yet i found you and ur hotter than a boiling kettle
i thought long ago my heart was made of metal
u lit the spark that brought me to life
girlie just told me that i get
the most amazing girl i ever met
the one ill never forget
even once you leave
ill be heartbroken but ill still belive
that your the only one for me
stay up late at night throwing rocks out the window till you see
your yard full of candles spelling out "i love you nikki"
lips like caramel, sweet and sticky
baby im so happy you wanna be with me
no ill never leave baby i cant help but to linger
nikki touched my heart and it wraped around her finger
stranger than fiction
too strong to even mention
girlies out of this world like a star trekk convention
thank god for cameras, they were the greatest invention
capture time the way you were wen you were mine
so i can save u in a box when you leve me behind
and then i can still have you when you are not mine
love is not willing it is blind
my heart is yours
delivered to your doorstep
wanna be my baby mama
come with me, heavens in you arms, stay there to get away from drama
dont ever leave baby, cuzz ill die from heart trauma
so when your gone and you get this
and im outside your window, throwin rocks at your window till you see
all the candles in your yard spelling out "i still love you nikki"
dont get mad.... just come back to me
cuz im sittin on my roof just thinkin of you,
wonderin if my heart would still be whole if i sent it to you.
"Le vent se leve, il faut tenter de vivre."
"The wind is rising! We must try to live."
-Paul Valery
Feel the gust that flows unnoticed!
Hear the subdued growths of air
That grow like a nearing beast
Ferocious, with a wild glare
For the wind is rising.
The glorious power of nature
That can awe yet make fear -
A spectacle of eternal dreams
With pace, approaching near
The wind is rising.
Lo! It comes with a sudden flow
That takes with it whatever resists,
Through the oak, over the hills
Beyond the boundary of all limits;
The wind rises.
Behold its might! Over dark meadows
It flows, causing the grass to dance
Now here, now there, uncontrollable
It vanishes in the moment of a glance;
The wind has risen.
None can match its glorious pride
Even the mighty trees bow before it;
The wondrous monster sweeps past all
Its toughened arms pick dust and grit;
The wind is flowing.
It rushes past the valleys deep
Triggers rocks down mountain slopes
Its speed and power, none can stop -
A free horse, it breaks all ropes;
The wind is rushing.
Invincible, it marches on
Like an emperor feared by all,
A dictator, with power not measured
Rise of a legend, never to fall;
The wind turns violent.
The silence breaks, the barriers too
The wind zigzags amidst mountain peaks,
It bellows in the forests dark
The young, fatigued willows creak.
The wind is at its pinnacle.
Then the drizzle comes, then the thunderstorm
And oh! The fierce, mighty beast
Declines as raindrops fall
Dies down forming mist;
The wind fades away...
Yet its marks are vivid on the landscape
A spectacle of its enormous strength
It will revive, as a vicious beast
It would return again at length.
Free yet fierce, elegant yet wild
The angel who visits the human world
And all is lighted by his trail
And the might of nature is unfurled.
The wind had risen
It will rise,
As a voracious beast
To have all that suffice.
May we rise like the chords of time
That hasten us into your greatness
Let my body’s brittle bones
Become refined
Sharpen me, madres!
Into the warrior I need the most
Valencia in springtime
Share the same sting
May we bloom in this darkness
And bear our burden’s light
Heavy is this weight we carry
But heavier still is the spirit of fight
For death cannot reach me
But it sure can teach me
The the love you bear is
Nothing compared to the love she prepared
You poured over into my blood
As if you were my own
my voice sings out cries of conviction
Her, mi madre, mi amiga, my hen!
Hovers over us now
In the mist and in the rain
God how I long to be near her
My dearest friend and sister
God how the pain reaches so deep
Like a dagger has furrowed itself inside me
My feet stagger like a drunkards gone to battle
My shins fall to the floor
My stomach screams me awake
Oh God! my chest cannot rest
Every night without you is worse
But every morning I rise as a tree cut down
Not fully awake, not yet in a dream
My heart shivers as it flows in this winter river
Take me outside and let me run and hide
Amongst the soil and sand
Bring me in all hooded creatures
For I have come to faint amongst treasures
Surely I will be buried here amongst the dead
The worms will feast upon my borrowed flesh
Let my bones rust covered with rust
Never finished only branded
My teeth sink into your fallen fruit
Eat sweet death what you have framed me to be
My head lays in the mud of the forest
My body blanketed and bare
My womb of the earth quakes
of another close stranger
I let loose a shriek that swells me into the still
My eyes blinded by the flesh of the earth’s mill
My hands have not defeated me yet
May I stand? As free as I’d fallen
Posé, Se leve
Ensemble, Adagio En Haut
If I could pick a memory of my precious only beautiful daughter. I would have to sit for a while for there's lots that I would treasure. From a tiny baby growing up to a toddler falling down ,from a teenager to a beautiful lady , dressed in her long red gown. Oh so many wonderful memories that I can recall but there's one that stands out from them all. it Is that special time that all mothers share the day you were born ,when You were placed gently into your loving mothers arms, So pretty and so small.To me you came from heaven Brought down by angels above , it was then that I learned of a mothers unconditional love. Now you've taken back that special gift you gave me that day. My little princess why couldn't you leave her with me and let her stay. I miss her so much every day and it does help God knowing your guiding her on her way.I love you my girl with all of my aching heart . I can't be leve your gone my world's now torn apart. Now a shining star bright as they can be . I no you are the brightest up there shining down for me. Sleep tight our angel you'll forever be in our hearts were your imprinted forever in our hearts you will be .
Caren Krutsinger brought back memories to me,
Re her poem,
Do not give Missy Mob Salami.
I do not know a man who wears a Russian hat.
I do know a man that wears a cat\
On his head,
The cat is dead
He lay on Mr John Wamsley's head,
Facing front,
With dangling legs,
Over Mr Wamsley's ears.
It looked natty, it appears.
This man, at his peril,
Hated animals that were feral,
He protested loud and clear,
He did not want these creatures near.
The wildlife park was Mr Wamsley's own.
Those darn cats would not leve him alone.
Until he got out a gun,
And shot those cats, one by one.
Some people thought this unfair.
They did not seem to care,
That the cats were causing strife,
For the survivng suffering, wildlife
To cut this saga short,
There is not much more to report.
After things got heated,
With things mulled over and repeated.
Licensed people can proceed,
Only when there is a need,
To shoot the cats that are a pest
And let Mother Nature do the rest.
You can find a photo of John Wamsley wearing a cat
on his head, on the internet.
A big thank you to Caren for giving me the idea for the poem.
i like the rain
becuase when you yell at me
and break my heart
i can go ouside
and no one ill notice im crying
when you yell at me
its everyday not only once
if i do one thing wrong
youll beat me until i regret every doing it
if i do something right
you reward me by not hitting me as hard
i have bruises on my arms
and my lefs
then strips on my back
made of blood
from the whips youll one day regret
i cant leve the house
or else people will ask questions
and my body cant handle that
i stay at home all day
cooking and cleaning
waiting for you to come home
i thought that after i gave you life
and took you in my home
went through everything with you
that you wouldnt treat me this way
why my son?
do you treat me this way
have i been a bad person
have i been a bad moher
was i not there long enough with you
i will be dying in a few hours
so i went outside
in the rain
and slowly died....crying
but no one will notice
becuase im crying in the rain
Souls arrive on earth compelled to survive dramatic impacts.
Each child of spirit will eventually reach for reasons to be here.
Living finds the soul striving for intangible roots, tangibly real.
Foundations are sought to lead, gift and uplift one’s true self.
Fertile roses grow blind to the forces aligned on their behalf.
Unconscious insistence diminishes man’s resistance to its menu.
Layers of intuitive insight incites and invites us to a spiritual level.
Colors of otherness within us highlight discoveries of all authentic.
Revealing layers of our source may be sought and found in prayer.
Uniting with God grants exciting stances on His supporting plateau.
Mindfulness is the plume of God’s rhythm that rhymes our bloom.
A mulher que se encontra,
de quando em vez,
de tempos em tempos,
Tem os olhos vivos,
Tem a pele morena,
Branca ou negra,
Ora baixa, ora alta,
Tem um lindo sorriso,
E tudo o quer precisa;
Para levar alegria onde quer que esteja.
AH! As mulheres que eu vejo,
Tem fases, como a lua.
Fases de andar escondida,
fases de vir para a rua...
e outras de ser sozinha,
E Tudo nelas mostra a verdade,
Com que se acredita.
A mulher que vejo,
Tem olhos vivos e acalma,
Iluminando as vidas,
Segue a vida,
Sorrindo, fazendo sorrir,
Mudando o mundo.
A mulher que vejo,
Contraria a natureza,
Ilumina como uma estrela,
Inspira suave como a brisa
Seque a vida
Realizando sonhos
Enriquecendo vidas.
AH! Mulher,
Aceita o encargo!
De um pequeno gesto,
feito de longe e de leve,
Para transformar e mudar o mundo.
Convocação de hoje
Quero convocar para ver a rosa em substância
convocar para viver as tendências do momento
convocar para sair do túnel
com um olhar claro, espantado e brilhante...
Tendência
não machuca,
nunca machuca...
tendências são como um vento
um vento que muda tudo àquilo que toca
nas vilas, nas casas, nas pessoas;
tendência não machuca.
A tendência do momento
é aquela da simplicidade;
a pessoa simples
faz o que faz,
mas não vê nisso matéria para comentários,
nem mesmo para reflexão.
A pessoa simples,
é como os passarinhos das florestas,
leve e silencioso sempre,
mesmo quando canta,
mesmo quando pousa.
Tendências são como um vento
o vento das tendências
leva para longe o atraso
ainda que tudo possa em breve voltar,
afinal, nem sempre o novo é sinal de progresso.
In my poetry I aspire to make beautiful literary webs of interlocked verses that move in the
nature of silk, yet I usually only produce cobwebs in the corners of scraps of papers.
I weave my webs any where that the fancy strikes me.
Like the silk of the spider my poems come from inside me
I work my poetry out of the vast dark shadows of the human condition.
Like cob webs there isn’t a central theme that holds my poems together.
They are just made up of what ever gets caught in my web.
Like the Theridiidae I hunt at night trying to devour a poem or two each night.
Like the spider I work fast and furious to justify my existance,trying to leve my mark,before
I’m reduced to a dried up carcus stuck between the
secretary desk and the wall.
By Robb A. Kopp
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