Long Looks Poems
Long Looks Poems. Below are the most popular long Looks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Looks poems by poem length and keyword.
He is on his riding mower.
He looks like me,
only he owns a rich man's house,
a garden measured in acres -
his skin is better.
No picket fences; this is upscale America.
Long drives and old stone walls, gated.
A cultural dream
pioneering into new luxury,
the way covered wagons once did;
canvas closed, oxen quietly moving on
into territory that's hard to imagine.
I see him standing
near his wide columned front door
He is smiling the way I smile
when I think no one is looking.
I like him, and imagine his beautiful wife
in my arms.
We have left the wagon train,
have struck out on our own,
we found the green valley;
gold seams under our feet,
the land is already posted
to keep others out.
A FISHERMANS TALE
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
Blowering Lake in the Snowy’s is the place to be
To catch a Yellowbelly or Silver Perch
Or if you are lucky a Murry Cod or a trout
They all live beneath the cold waters of the lake
I flog the water with spinning rod and lure
Changing frequently my choice of lure
I try to entice a fish to strike…but no luck
At this rate I would be lucky to catch a cold
Along comes a regular fisherman, introduced himself as Wayne
Having any luck old mate he asks, not me mate I have no luck
No bloody fish here I says to Wayne, He says it’s not luck you need
It’s a worm on a hook and pure skill that will get you a fish
He sets up his rod and baits the hooks with wriggly worms from his garden
He casts the line out into the lake and proceeds to make a cup of tea
No sooner had he poured the tea when he had a strike, he set the hook
I’ve got a nice fish on you grab the net be ready to catch him
You lucky old bugger I says to Wayne, no luck involved just pure skill
A 2kg Yellowbelly as fat as mud he will go down well for tea
Not to be outdone I changed my lure and cast it into the lake
On my third cast I spotted the dark shape of a fish following
A strike I yelled as I set the hook and the fish- well he took off
I played him out till he started to tire, fetch the net old mate
This fish is a whopper; I played him out till he went belly up
Wayne rushed over and gently placed the net under the fish
Wow what a fish Wayne said the bugger is twice as big as mine
You were bloody lucky- I reckon I brought you good luck say’s Wayne
No bloody luck involved I say’s to Wayne, old mate
It’s just my good looks and pure skill
Take me away from the place I am
it's comforts have long ceded
Boarded are my old neighbor's homes
I feel as though my street I am alone
I bolt the doors turn on the porch lights
hoping to disarm any theft at night
sleepy edgy and ever slight
It's time for a new home
Well I miss the old spread
for decades in it I made my bed
Family and friends echo from the walls
so many tears and laughter to recall
The roses that bloomed every spring
in summer the smell of lilacs sing
The kitchen big the bedrooms small
the linen door that won't stay shut in the hall
Old and creepy worn and dim
looks like my house will faint, so many repairs needed
The city demolished the old Jones house
and soon to be gone is that of the widow Faust
I could patch up my house and make it swell
but I fear alone with vacant lots I would dwell
It's time to move but would my place even sell
looking for a new home
"House plants are such attention seekers!" -- quote by Poet
House plants in the nursery are all trying
to sell themselves; competing for attention;
pleading to be bought to Mrs. Greenthumb.
"Hey you, marveling at the flowering vines!
How about taking me home? Feel me by the touch;
glide your fingers across my soft blades
and gently grasp them.
Don't they feel wonderful? Choose me!,"
exclaims the Xerophyllum.
"Hey, over here! Pick me and you'll gasp in amazement
watching me clasp and hold pesky houseflies
you can't swat! They never escape...
my clutch of death. I promise!,"
swears the Venus flytrap.
"No, pick me! I guarantee you'll be satisfied.
I know you want me. I'm beauty personified,
hued in striking yellow or orange buds.
I'll be the star in your garden,"
goes the Yellow Oleander.
"Don't! The Yellow Oleander is very poisonous,
and the Xerophyllum just looks like a weed!
Try me instead. Inhale the pleasing fragrance
of my buds and your heart will soar to the heavens
with joy, " pleads the Freesia.
Mrs. Greenthumb buys the Venus Flytrap--
ah, cool choice---and the Yellow Oleander. Oh, no!
Writing Prompt - Grasp- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Required words: vines, glide, grasp, gasp, clasp, hold, clutch, hued, inhale, soar.
Date written: 07/04/2021
In HIM by HIM
I was made to be eternal
In HIM by HIM
I was also created to be a co-creator
Once transcendent yet still energy
Placed IN a vessel but not for all eternity
For my truest self shall flow rise and excel
I am the attributes of God
And in those attributes we share
I am loving I am HOLY I am good
Only in HIM through HIM I am just I am jealous the jealousy of God
I share my heart with no earthly idols
We share this such is trust His love I am merciful
I am sovereign
To the authority of the Most High God
I am omnipotent powerful knowledgeable
I am patient I am faithful I am spirit
My eyes are the windows to my soul
Which is where God looks out and God looks in
We together contemplate I learn of HIM HE knows of me
My character is innate WE begin to grasp each other
Glorious lovingly
All inspiring
And HOLY the person of the Trinity is upon me
And in me it's the only one Worthy of our alliance
Jesus Christ model these characteristics in HIS life in ministry
I want to establish
I want to glean from HIS presence I want to learn what it means
HOW to apply HIS self in my life
I can grow in the face of the Lord
My God my attributes the windows to my soul
Communicable these are the attributes
I share with God
I share with my Lord
These are the attributes I share with God
Selah
Hallelujah
4/1/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
All men have born desires
garland of the prettiest arm.
Want to meet in the loveliest Place
Where no hurdle no harm.
She was waiting to Mr right
Spider webs to trap just right.
The sea of sand was all over
But emotions not mood to over.
Mirage born ownself in hot summer
Desert to quench herself
From the blood of the craziest
Creatures , mad behind the mates.
The thirsty traveller no mood
To give up so easily.
Move forward in the Thar desert
With wised steps gradually.
She was standing in isolated land
The desert at not present water tank.
To hug her crazy moth which
Will add a more number in her hunt.
Mirage produces in sunny noon
In sand to catch unknown fellow.
My friend was almost mad behind Angel
Don't recognise the upcoming fellow.
The body and the soul were thirsty
Very strong these were both.
No one ready to move back
So he travelled to quench both.
Now the real world and the real goal
Feet scored miles and miles to go.
Which goal post he wanted to goal
Still, didn't have a hole to goal.
His breath was leaving without any alarm
My feet were freezing without cold.
Dearest few steps your can make me alive
If you want to save ,without delay hold.
Come on, come on my kind princess
Come on my sweetheart
I have left the world far behind
Come on and hug me , if don't mind.
Break hurdle from surroundings
Break chains of illusion own self
Stretch hands to welcome me
Come out from the fairy tale thyself.
Don't become very shirty
I am not behaved as dirty
Please, quench body and soul's thirsts
No one can do this except you buddy.
I am dying without water
Millions yards I covered for you
Looks insufficient to meet you
But remaining must cover you.
But regret she was unmoved
And so friend was lying unmoved.
You do not value me around, you’re alone
For all your life, alone-in-company
You call it family, but you are on your own
Love is a game you sometimes play, or played for me
Why did you choose me a few years ago?
If you can’t keep a word you voluntary give
No good deed goes unpunished kind of show
I get, cause all my love you can’t forgive
You’d be offended at my place, I’m sure
You wouldn’t expect from me what you can do
So your experience to bring pain looks poor
It is one-sided, and I bet you know its true
Return to me! I know you never meant
To lose me, like an earring that fell
Into the slot of time you never spent
But when you find it, nothing it can tell.
Mallory the cat needs a bit of a rest, he’s older than me.
Nothing to see, I tell the neighbors. He’s just up in a tree.
Gawkers come by and lambast me for letting him rest.
Up in his regular place, his tree where he is blest.
He has been sitting up there since he was a kitten.
He’s fine, I reassure them, he looks rather smitten.
Some want to rescue him, which is weird to me.
After all, Mallory is my cat, he is hurting no one up in a tree.
Cameramen from the paper came by and took a quick flash.
They put Mallory on the front page, and it made kind of a splash.
He’s out there today, sitting stoically, turning away from the street.
Loving it that so many coaxers are offering him a come-on-down-treat.
The air I breathe is
polluted with sins.
This is my world
where men become monsters
as they start to kill my home
that I’m trying to build.
The fire eats the forest,
slowly degenerates,
the lungs of the earth.
Many live in greed
and will live for
what is not worth.
It’s evil and deceiving,
Like an unexpected trap.
Their brains become ruthless
as they start to think
not a human like.
Everything is worthless
and such I believe,
“Life has no meaning
if I’m drunk of my sins.”
This is the world
where lives are taken
as easy as pulling the trigger.
Behind the modernism
is a fake progress
that I called
skeptical illusion.
I’m alive and weary!
I’m afraid to
look what the future
looks like?
I might drown one
of these days or may
be fueled in fire.
LeiStrauss2019
As I walk through the door, none looks my way
I was never important, not that many would say
I stand in the corner but nobody sees me
I speak but none turn, it’s the way it’s supposed to be.
The world looks different from the one’s I had seen
The evil still abounds, repeated daily, a bad scene
I speak but none even turns my way, Am I here?
A child comes to me his hand raised, in his eyes there are tears.
All this pain this sorrow, what the purpose can be
Hate, evil doing, never ceases to amaze me
More children come they pull at my hand
I gaze at the innocence and I understand
They smile and they laugh but others see us not
And yet the celebrations go on, but they all have forgot
I am here for them, all, the unhappy, unloved and deceased
They called me St Nicholas, but only think of the feast.
They made me a saint in the centuries long gone
Over prisoner’s and sailor’s and children every one
No one remembers except for the gifts on one day
But I looked after all, they made me this way
Nobody gives me a thought through out the year
But I collect all the children and wipe away their tears
We are the happy ones they all know to come to me
Not only on one day but through out the year you see.
There are stories and legends formed over the years
But if the belief were strong there would be fewer tears
I am the patron saint of so many causes
I am the man behind all the Santa clauses.
But remember my mission was to offer help to the needy
Not to feed all the senses of those that are greedy.
Remember I stand here, but no one sees me
I’m not given a thought, until they bring in the tree.
But I tried in my life to help those needy and wanting
Those that beatified me gave me a task that is daunting.
From the sailors to the innocent and all the children in fear
If you believe in me or not my I wish you a happy new year.
© ~GG~16/12/2012