Long Loren Poems
Long Loren Poems. Below are the most popular long Loren by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Loren poems by poem length and keyword.
Movie star eyes
Perfect caramel skin
Screech. That would be too perfect.
Change that to something pastier
Alabaster maybe
The monster in the mirror
Smiled with her green eyes
Vivian Leigh maybe?
She watched her face transform
But she added the caramel
And she looked more like
Sophia Loren
Maybe brown eyes? She suggested
The magic mirror was losing patience
Make up your mind it said.
Did it really matter
What you look like
When you lure a man to his death?
The mirror’s grin widened.
She patted her auburn curls in place
And picked up her cape.
She was ready for the hunt.
Written: November 27, 2019
Contest: Favorite Poem from November 2019
Sponsor: Julia Ward
thank you Lord for the gifts in my life.
the farah fawcett, the michael jackson my willy wonka,the muhamad ali, the al green.
the prince, the babyface, the elvis presely, the johnny taylor and b.b. king.
the john wayne, the charton heston, the sophia loren. the paul newman, the alfred hitchcock,
the spike lee. the bruce lee, the jackie chan. the david carradine, the johnny carson, the ed
mcmahon, the aretha franklin, the whitney houston. the last batman movie, the matrix
trilogy, the terminator. starwars, indiana jones, dark shadows, star trek, the twilight zone,
cassablanka. the billy joel, the kiss, the aerosmith, the sting. heatwaves greatest hit, the
temptations, the stylistics, the marvin gay. the sugar ray robinson, the roberto durran, the
walter payton, the o.j. simpson trial and marcia clark. the clint eastwood, the brook sheilds,
the richard pryor, the redd foxx, and joan rivers. the rodney dangerfield, the tiger woods
the michael jordan and ozzie smith. the johnny cash the garth brooks. the left behind series,
the internet. the rodney storts; an old preacher that died. and all my childhood heros and
stars. but mostly thank you Jesus for dying on that cross
The white man
In Algarve, I met the world's tallest poet
blessedly free of athletic prowess and
dressed for a warmer clime, perhaps Swiss
or some other country nearby
Alas, he suffered from high education and
tended to overlook people, which, in his
case was understandable, but he had
a great sense of irony
He spoke French to my wife, who came
into my study to tell me she looked like
Sophia Loren, who am I to disagree with
a woman who speaks seven languages
The tall poet and I went to the beach
I noticed he was white as unchurned milk
people looked like he came from Mars
whitest human they had ever seen.
One day, he disappeared, going back to
Swiss where people tend to wear solid
shoes, but I remember he recited a few
poems, full of wonderous thoughts.
The poverty
It has been raining for days, but now the sun shines
the walls of the old ruin look whitewashed and with its pride intact.
Sunlight makes paucity look nostalgic, a whiff of the old days
when life was supposed to be simpler; a movie by Sophia Loren.
We go on romanticising time of need like it should be an honour,
and the poor are so funny they speak grammarless and happy.
Nevertheless, we give obeisance to the past, a ruin no one in
their right mind will spend money on.
Ah, but I was wrong, and English gentleman- if this adjective
comply, often it doesn`t- has bought the dwelling, plans to
keep its front so it will be an old looking new house and will
live with a churning cement-mixer for weeks.
Whatever happens in the future is none of my business
today is a beautiful morning.
I’ve been approached, to write this Ode, by Michael:
he wants me to identify three traits
of his. I told him, life is just a cycle
of ups and downs. I cited one Matt Gaetz!
“Don’t count on your intelligence,” I said:
you’re bright alright, but that is where it ends.”
“I need a friend to do this,” he admonished.
“You have,” I pointed out to him, “no friends.”
Internally, he’s clever: outside, dead.
If anybody phones him, he’s astonished.
“So tell them, girls mistake me for George Clooney!”
No way. “No doubt,” I said, “You’re polyvalent.
But as for looks, you’re nearer Mickey Rooney.
Yet I’ll concede your literary talent.”
He seemed appeased by this. “Brigitte Bardot
would love the chance to glance upon my sonnets,
and Sofia Loren says she’s read my plays.”
“You live on leprechauns and Easter bonnets,
you sad buffoon.” I truly told him so.
“The nineteen fifties were your salad days.”
“Those times are gone! Get with the modern world.”
“I’ve got a brain, and I can write a bit:
we need another quality unfurled.”
“There’s no more in your favour. That is it!”
We scratched our heads. We pondered. Nothing came.
“I’ll put up money …” “Michael, you’re absurd.
You couldn’t, if you tried, put up a tent.”
The bribing-plan was stillborn. In a word,
he hasn’t got a penny. All the same,
there’s no-one would deny … the guy’s a gent.
Charles and my predawn jog was a sweat-athon and as the sun rose, a heat-dome brightness tattooed crisp shadows in every corner. Any lingering coolness was burned off - evaporated.
It was 94°f, 3 hours later, when I walked to campus - why don’t we use parasols anymore? Drag on, radiant afternoon heat, please.
That was 100 proof sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell.
Hot days seem to drag-on slowly, like waiting for a microwave or a droning, liturgy. It wasn’t in the forecast but I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear, “Today’s forecast is slow, really slow.”
Let’s start an Internet theory that the atmosphere is thinning or we’re just ants under a magnifying glass.
The finally setting sun left a blood red line under the falling blue dark, like a gash of wound in the skin of young-night.
Once my nightly obligations are done (classes, homework, reading), the silence can seem oppressive. I’m used to the never ending hustle, boiling drama and noise of seven suitemates - so there’s that.
On now empty nights, I’m tortured by the high-beating pulse of youth, and I pace my empty apartment, like someone restlessly waiting for their venti-mocha-latte at a Starbucks.
Can anyone suffer like a young woman left all alone?
Why, oh whomever, must I sip from this deep, bitter, undrinkably salty sea of solitude?
In this, my prime season, why do I only manage to exist?
My needs are in a shameful state of decay.
.
.
Cruel Summer by Bananarama
Habits (feat. Haley Reinhart) by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox [E]
All That I Need by Ebony Loren, Matthew Ifield & Sebastian Kamae
204.
Team PNoy – Iboboto Ko Nang Matuwid!
Iboboto ko nang matuwid
Para sa asensong walang patid
Buong Team PNoy – sa senado ko ihahatid
Sonny Angara – hatid niya ang solusyon
Para sa atin, trabaho't edukasyon
Bam Aquino – nasa dugo ang katapangan
Marangal, malinis na pangalan
A.P. Cayetano – Presyo, Trabaho at Kita
Ibabalanse niya
Chiz Escudero – subok na sa senado
Kabataan ay hindi mabibigo
Risa Hontiveros – tayo'y ipaglalaban
Ayaw niya sa korapsyon at katiwalian
Loren Legarda – marami nang nagawa
Bida sa kanya ang masa
Jamby Madrigal – kakampi ang mahirap
Galit sa korap
Ramon Magsaysay, Jr. – isa ring kampeon ng masa
Katulad ng kanyang ama
Grace Poe – magalang at maaasahan
Sagot siya sa kahirapan
Koko Pimentel – ayaw sa madaya
Katiwalian ay susugpuin niya
Trillanes – produktibo sa senado
Marami nang nagawang batas ito
Cynthia Villar – ang Mrs. Hanepbuhay
Siya ang ating kaagapay
Dadalhin ko sa senado
Mga pambato ng pangulo
Dahil kailangan sila ng mga Pilipino.
-05/12/2013
(Dumarao)
*My Yellow Poems Collection…written on the day before the Elections
Many are my favorite things,
but nothing is more exciting
that ravishingly beautiful sexy ladies:
those seen in a movie theater
who light up the wide screen under
the Califonia's palm trees swaying.
Marilyn Monroe was an exceptional beauty,
not to mention the elegant Audrey Hepburn,
who many times made my silly heart burn;
and what about Sophia Loren, the Italian sex-symbol,
who attracted men of all ages, and entertained them all,
right after World War II had devasted her beloved Italy?
Today there are more glamorous stars,
and Madonna is one of them for her fabulous
acting in "Evita"...and her, big blue eyes
captured the audiences as she brightly danced;
lots of folks thought she was lewd, but what other choice
did she have, if not rise to power and be admired?
Allow me to list some more sensational beauties:
Angeline Jolie with her dusky complexion and pretty eyes;
a powerful sexiness that woos audiences worldwide,
but is it her talent or sex appleal that people admire?
And finally, another gorgeous actress, July Roberts, who besides her stunning
looks, she was brilliant in, "Pretty Woman" and "My best Friend's Wedding."
Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci