Long Lock Poems
Long Lock Poems. Below are the most popular long Lock by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lock poems by poem length and keyword.
There is more warmth here
Curled beneath
The sickly, flickering halo
Of the streetlamp outside your house
Than I ever managed
To pull
From your skin
The heavy, reckless snow
Tangling in my eyelashes
Melts softer than your voice ever did
Evaporating with every blink
Until I can feel the stinging flush of blood
Creeping back into my face
A reluctant reminder
Of what a pulse
Is actually supposed to feel like
You were colder
Than the unmade mattress
On my side of the bed
You slept huddled up
Safe and cocooned
Like your mother still tucked you in
While my goosebumps
Became permanent fixtures
In the draft
“You should see him in my dreams,”
I confessed to your ceiling
In the hollow hours that chewed me alive
While my fingers traced
The little black curl
At the nape of your neck
“One touch of him
In that faded
Band shirt
Was like a swarm
Of manic butterflies
Diving headfirst into electric barbed wire”
But really an intimacy
Flatlining
Into rigor mortis
An ache so violently heavy
It calcified against my ribs
Like the residue of gin and bad decisions
So was it me?
Was I just a rough draft
Of someone else you wanted?
Did the quiet crush you enough
To play house
Only to want to lock the front door?
Did you just
Want to sleepwalk
through my lifetime?
Now I know
why your ceiling
never said anything back
But hey, at least it’s warmer here
I’m having a garage sale
Though I don’t have a garage.
Come check out all my offerings –
You’ll see a strange montage.
I have similes and metaphors
So old that they’re clichés.
There are sentences and verses
Budding writers can rephrase.
From a stack of nouns quite towering
Are so many you can choose;
Mix and match with all my adjectives –
You simply cannot lose.
There’s a vat of verbs just waiting,
Some with adverbs still attached;
And a box of prepositions,
With its lock no longer latched.
There might be a spare conjunction
Hiding underneath the rhymes;
As for interjections – Ha!
They’re rare as Mercury-head dimes.
Yet if you pay me a visit,
You might find the words you need;
I’ve been cleaning up my clutter
And there’s good stuff, guaranteed.
So come pick through my possessions
‘Cause I’m lightening my load.
Then feel free to write a sonnet
Or a limerick or ode.
For garage sales held by poets
Are, to me, the most inviting,
Since your purchases may point you
To the pathway paved with writing.
Ilene Bauer
September 6, 2012
(this was accidentally deleted from my poems list, so i wanted to reenter it)
I can’t help but notice Remain think Leave want to roll back the clock
as if we could again rule the waves with a million ships in the dock
they say we dream of an empire on which the sunshine never stops
using this assumption they’ve invented just to mock
They live with this idea that a bigger EU is beneficial
A theory I can see that in practice is unofficial
as what we have are law makers not subject to the law
weather correct or flawed they are all unaccountable
Meaning that we vote for puppets disconnected from their cause
waiting to receive direction from some unelected fools
who work within a system budgeted with no rewards
with loop holes easily corrupted and elite untouchables
What’s the point in elected locals who listen to some far away vocals
we gave political control to the colonies so the people made the calls
because a bigger sphere of influence means one does what one ignores
as a centralised government knows that one size don’t fit all
You must control your population the same way you lock your doors
to stop the overcrowding those doors connect with walls
it’s not a racist action when it’s the one most logical
and BREXIT was the only way to ensure ours is ours to rule
Going where the taxi goes with wealth you have amassed
yet you don’t drive or pave the roads you just follow the track
where traffic lights and junctions appear random on the map
as 27 others have agreed they should do that
I don’t believe that politics is what Europe dearly needs
it just needs interlinking ties existing mutually
so everybody benefits without a governing body
making sure we all have knowledge of our history!!
This was to be their first, grand journey.
Who would dare believe?
Sarah Maple, and Ol’ Bear
Her special, robot teddy!
Both, strapped inside Securely;
Await a lifetime ride;
Her heart is jumping, as
Her nine-ish, choc’ late eyes grow wide.
Fear mixes with Excitement;
Humility with pride;
When she realizes she’s
Histories first starfolk child.
Soon, they would be riding,
Fiery, rolling, thunder, cloud
above the humid dawn. Destination:
International Space Station.
Then, tucking one loose lock of
Coal-black hair behind her ear;
Glances sideward to Ol’ Bear…and gulps.
He gives one soothing wink to Sar. She smiles.
Then, hanging on
For all they’re worth,
They soon are floating
High, above the earth.
our heroes are conflicted
hanging cross-wise
riddled with choices
pock-marks on their skin
topographically hardened by
the spirit of humanity
from the instinctual urge to merge
with all its urgent need, the feast of senses,
those vital moments in the grace of salt-sweat
the sticky sand in her bathing suit
fingered open by an eager bull-dog marine
on her beach of girlish dreams, he'd
leave her there to shiver in anguish
bloody with catholic guilt
while the child she was, lay dying
she sacrificed herself
probing her wounds over 'n over
for some strength in the sore points
she couldn't avoid the larger mission
by going into caves of martyrdom
to float away on some dark ship of no return
she didn't understand social expectations
so became wrought by burden
and a loss for words
she'd refrain from back-room surgery
not knowing the cold-cut of stainless steel
nor redemption from her mothers religion
her blood retreated in shame
the lock was on the door
so she bore me in the secret fear she couldn't bear anymore
I woke up today and found
frost perched on my town.
It hovered in a frozen sky and gobbled summer down.
When the sun turns traitor cold
and shivering trees are standing in a naked row,
I get the urge for going, but I never seem to go.
I get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown.
Summertime is falling down.
Winter's closing in.
I had a girl in summertime with summer colored skin
and not another man in town my darling's heart could win.
When the leaves fell trembling down
and bully winds did rub our faces in the snow,
she got the urge for going and I had to let her go.
She got the urge for going when the meadow grass was turning brown.
Summertime was falling down
and winter was closing in.
The warriors of winter give a cold triumphant shout.
All that stay are dying and all that live are getting out.
Do you see the geese in flight flapping and racing on before the snow?
They have the urge for going and they have the wings to go.
They get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown
and when summertime is falling down,
when winter is closing in.
I'll tend my fire with kindling and draw the blankets to my chin
and I'll lock the vagrant winter out and alter my wandering in.
I'd like to call back summertime and have her stay for just another month or so
but she got the urge for going and I guess she'll have to go.
She got the urge for going when the meadow grass began turning brown.
All her empires are falling down.
Winter's closing in.
I'm so unfit for this, there's still so much in
me thats unfinished
I need to replinish catch me @ the brook
I dehyrated myself
With my lack of selflessness
So its evident what I'm developing
My battles with sin flesh & the devil got me weary
So I enslaved myself in the prism
Isolated myself from you sometimes
When you win you're really losing
And I lost most of me in the process
Solitary confinement with no lock pick
What I sinned and hurt God most with I cut it off
Count it as loss, my back against the wall
Standing tall to this giant I'm trying to slay
But like him I have no power...unless I learn
To be obedient and obey so in the end
Who really gets slain
Intertwine
I attain out my heart to you,
With the notion I have done foolish pride in them.
Aching for the attention of an adolescent to be put upon me,
And not imagine of the reality of things that go on in life.
But when I assemble and think
It’s all about the love of u.
I never knew my soul would undergo incomplete,
From not seeing you,
Or hearing your exquisite voice.
I just wish every night before I go to bed,
That God brings your posterior to me one day,
And not have me melting inside for you.
Every time I sense about the bad times,
There wasn’t a really bad time.
It was just two selfish souls wanting more out of the other.
Babe I love the way you smile and smidgen your upper lip.
The way you embrace me like I’m forever,
And we were heavens faultless equivalent of love.
My essential is for you to be my wife,
The one my child runs too,
The concession of my heart.
To know you can’t be with me at this time,
But then you aspire me and love me;
Keeps my warmth heart wanting you.
I shall perceive on with my life of dreams to accomplish,
But hope you draw closer back home to the heart that wants you.
You know other beings look into my eyes,
And distinguish the love I have for you.
Sometimes I fancy to tear,
But I cant.
I necessitate knowing that you’re here with me,
In soul and heart.
I crave to know that you miss,
And think of me like the messiah of love.
You are my revelation of true love,
And it hurts that I can’t be in your presence.
I’m sorry for the foolish things I say and done.
I love you babe be my wife
And make my completion of my life be with u.
I love you,
Be my forever and lock my soul.
Be the proverbs of love the world reads,
And the declaration God has placed on us.
If this is my ordeal from him,
I’m going to succeed this for wanting you.
I have never wanted something so adverse,
Till now.
You intertwine my conclusion of existence.
Form:
Contest: Pick-A-Title Vol. 59
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
My darling, you are to me,
What nectar is to a bee,
What soft sand is to the sea,
What ripe fruits are to a tree!
My love, our passion is hot,
We have what others may not,
You are my story and plot,
This love song is what we've got;
Dripping honey and sweetness,
You are my strength and weakness,
You perfect my completeness,
The measure of love's deepness;
You're my life's sugar and spice,
Everything that's bad and nice,
Summer's warmth and Winter's ice,
My beloved paradise;
I adore you and cherish,
Without you, I will perish,
Our devotion will flourish,
If we honour and nourish;
When the sea of life is rough,
We both will challenge the tough,
Overcome problems and stuff,
Together, we'll be enough;
May our love be strong always,
Our ardour burns like a blaze,
I'll love you all of my days,
You never cease to amaze;
My heart's a lock, you're the key,
Your affection sets me free,
My darling, you are to me,
What nectar is to a bee!
In the west any woman
can invite a man to bed,
but do that stuff in Iran
and they’ll huck rocks ’till she’s dead.
In the west any Christian
can get with like folk to pray,
try doing that in China
and they might just lock you away.
In the west any person can
criticize religious figures,
do the same in the Middle East
and they kill you with great vigor.
In the west we own up to
mistake made against Indians,
to this day Turkey denies what
it did to the Armenians.
In the west our women take part
in public like and politics,
in Saudi lands the women are
shrouded up in tent fabric!
In the west we’re open to
music of every kind,
in the Muslim world music is
often evil in God’s eyes.
In the west if a man steals
he’s gotta do time in the slam,
in Arabia they would rather
publically chop of your hands??!!
In the west we long ago
fought to free those who were enslaved,
but in Libya and Sudan
you can still buy them to this day.
In the west our poor people
often suffer from being fat,
how many North Korean poor
wish they could ‘suffer’ like that?
In the west we always expect
rule-of-law to serve us well,
in Mexico half the police
are working for the drug cartels.
In the west natural rights
are recognized the greatest good,
superseding even culture,
as your freedoms always should.
But in so much of this planet
naught but tyranny persists,
with cultures that deny the fact
that your rights even exist.
Professors say we’re all the same,
aren’t they supposed to be smart?
Results alone speak for themselves,
tear their rantings all apart.
Look at the ideas that have doomed
the once rich Venezuela,
ask how many people are now
desperately swimming to Cuba?
They all come here seeking success,
of that there is little doubt,
our ideas are so appealing
we build fences to keep them out!
Despite our past imperfections,
the cold hard fast can’t be missed.
when it comes to self-improvement,
the west’s running away with it.
Our history and our results
so very clearly can attest,
the cultures, they are not the same,
and the west really is the best.