Long Mess Poems
Long Mess Poems. Below are the most popular long Mess by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mess poems by poem length and keyword.
(Leo - our cat's name)
Dear Leo, this verse is about you!
It's being shared not out of the blue
He is the morning person of all
But he doesn't require a rooster's call
He likes going for a morning walk
Of course; only up to kitchen block
He gets delighted to stirring sound
And responds if he's in and around
He takes a stance by arching its back
And displays his prudence to attack
Wise enough to show his intention
Follows on to catch our attention
He does give no scope to any mess
He never takes food less or excess
Our casual talks filled with his bites
We feel proud to share all those highlights
Decodes signs like a flawless scanner
Wins hearts with an elegant manner
He always appears to be composed
With great love, the best of him disclosed
Oh no...I see her number on the screen!
I didn't answer calls from her last week.
One hundred miles away, cousin Colleen...
I know just what she wants! I want to shriek!
A month ago she asked our cousin Sue
if she thought I would lend some funds to her,
and Sue told her she didn't know, pursue
by calling me direct...what she'd prefer.
So now the answer's left to me alone.
Sue knew that this request would never fly.
I wish she'd told Colleen on that darn phone
my answer would be no, and she'd know why!
You see, cousin Colleen is known for crime
of begging money from a cousin-kin
and never paying back a single dime!
She's nice...this just might be her only sin.
Dear cousin Sue was hit hard just last year
and should have told Colleen, firmly and loud,
to never bother me! It's very clear
scamming another cousin's not allowed!
Now what to do with cousin Colleen's mess...
next time, pick up that phone...or let it ring?
I know...with my soft heart, I must confess...
...most likely I will help...absorb the sting.
May 26, 2016
~HM~
Contest: $
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
Judged: 06/22/2021
Actually...partly based on truth!
Stardust fading into the moonlight on an autumnal evening,
One lonely night and all the bad memories cling,
I fell in love and we weren't even something,
Whilst I was nothing, you became my everything.
A curse to be a dreamer, being everything and nothing,
Love for a lost cause is poison and that's the thing,
The day I let you go, I realised I took a rose for a ring,
Oh it dawned upon me that we weren't even a thing.
Your eyes tied me to your chest,
Where my broken heart could rest,
Us dancing a tango around the mooncrest,
I only ever loved once, goodbye, my best.
I will never let you go from my heart, for you are the heart,
Rejuvenation from flaming endings will make mess of every start,
Pieces of you I try to find in every piece of art,
From my silly love feelings you will never be apart.
I wouldn't take in any cats that scratch and fret,
even if they gave me them for free and begged;
wild and mean Rusty was my first and only cat:
I hated when his flaming red hair started to shed.
Man crazy things he did when he was left unattended,
he scratched my couch and torn my leopard pillows;
he made me scream, but he looked at me and meowed
in self-pity and tried to climb my leg with his paws.
The worst thing he has ever done that really made me go mad:
was when he knocked down my pretty Christmas Tree and started to run;
all the golden baubles and musical bells fell off its branches and shattered,
I caught him with swift hands and held him until he calmed down.
The carpet was the scene of a mess, shattered glass on the wrapped toys,
he stood on his legs shaking and quietly stared at me with very soft eyes:
apoligizing for his bad behavior, for the first time he seemed a different cat;
I picked him up with immense tenderness forgetting he had been such a brat.
What makes a home a home?
Is it because you are there?
Or someone there?
No
A home is a home when you can hang your hat down
and not afraid you will mess it up
A home is a home when you can walk around in your underwear
and not be afraid you'll be losing it
Losing what?
Lol
Who knows?
Your self control, inhibition, whatever...
A home is a home where you can express your feelings
and not be afraid that you will be judged
as too sentimental, detrimental, temperamental
judgemental
Lol
You are never that, are you?
A home is where you hang yourself to sleep
on the couch
and do whatever
where you are perfectly fine in your own world
come whatever what may
You don't stir up for nothing
Yeah
I hope you can be like that
Anywhere you go
Because a home is not a home
if it's not in you
Welcome home, baby
I know I am
:)
I stopped beneath a big oak tree
and tried to catch my breath
My body it was shaking still,
he scared me half to death
I pulled my notebook to my lap,
my hand it held the pen
And started writing poetry,
my love for her again
When then I looked above my place,
the branches filled with birds
They watched as I was writing this,
they chirped at every word
“Don’t let that old crow bother you”
I heard their voices say
“He wants to be the only one,
that’s why he acts this way”
“Just keep on writing poetry,
your verses are the best
Be yourself, you’re doing fine,
to that we can attest”
“There’ll always be someone like him
that tries to pull you down
But worry not, just wear a smile
in place of that old frown”
So that I did, I wrote and wrote
and didn’t have a care
So I could always send my love
to you I long to share
I penned for you a poem of
affections written deep
Hoping that close to your heart
my words you’d always keep
When then again I heard that voice,
my day then turned to night
“I see you’re writing poetry,
I knew that I was right”
“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do,
we’ll put it to a test
You write yours and I’ll write mine,
we’ll see who is the best”
I closed my eyes and thought of us,
my mind held such a view
I wrote some lines of perfect prose
to say that I love you
He scratched and clawed upon his pad
and with an evil grin
He tossed the page down on the ground
and said, “Let’s go, begin”
I read the words that he did write
and if I must confess
I didn’t understand a thing,
his poem was a mess
Several lines of gibberish,
hate in every breath
Calling names of everyone,
he even threatened death
And then he read my offering,
a look came on his face
His feathers black had turned to ash,
his head hung in disgrace
For love shall win out every time
in ink of gentle flow
“Go spew your hatred someplace else,
it’s time for you to go”
I watched him as he flew away,
a sulking fading bird
On silent wings he disappeared,
he uttered not a word
I often walk along that path
but now I wear a smile
For I’m still writing poetry
in my romantic style
Though I will not forget that day
as these words come to mind
“Hate will never pass the test,
it’s better to be kind”
Thank you for reading my poem.
~~No One... of Us Are Perfect~~
~We ALL have Done Things We Probably Shouldn't Have~
~Some Continue to Do Things They Shouldn't~
~Some People Learn from their Mistakes~
~Some People Just Don't~
~Some People Believe they Don't Make any Mistakes~
~Some People...Love Everyone~
~Some People are Just Filled with Hate~
~Some People Spend their Lives Helping Others~
~Some People Don't Help Anyone~
~Some People Don't Even Try to Help Themselves~
~Some People Ask for No Help Ever.... Even when their Life a Depends on it~
~Some People Extend an Olive Branch~
~Some People Carry a Stick of Dynamite and Matches~
~Some People Spend their Lives Being Walked All Over~
~Some People Spend their Lives Walking All Over Others~
~Some People ... Walk Beside and With Others~
~Some People Blame the World for ALL their Woes~
~Some People Know the Mess they have Made... Accept the Total Responsibility of it....But just Don't know how or what to Do about it~
~Some People Lie and Say or Do Anything to Get Attention, Pity and Sympathy~
~Some People Give Others the Sympathy, Pity and Attention Desired~
~Some People are Wise to People's Drama and Scams~
~Some People think Everyone Owes Them~
~Some People Want Nothing from Anyone, But Would Give You Everything they have~
~For Whatever Reasons or Justifications We ALL have~
~~We Are All...Who We are~~
~~No One... of Us Are Perfect~~
I see you
Do you see me peeking at you
From behind the rose bush?
Look at your lovely hair - a tousled mess
Those eyes, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight
I pull on your apron strings
Perchance a small smile
Oh no! Not a frown from you
I see you
Did you know that I was watching you
When you were busy making chocolate cake?
Just look at your sweet face
Flour on your nose and cheek
I squeeze your arm tightly
Mayhaps I get the spoon
Thank you for keeping me close
I see you
You don't know that I am looking at you
Wrapped up in your blanket
So cozy and warm - a quiet nod
A peaceful time for you
Can hardly wait for you to waken
I'll find a hiding place
So I can watch again
Pablo...according to me (Part 1b, continuation/finish from Part 1a)
Re Pablo Picasso printmaking exhibition at Bellagio Hotel's Fine Art Gallery.
(7) Photo - PP's living room (by David Douglas Duncan), Summer '57, Villa La California Cannes
I'm glad I'm not the only one who breeds mess, industry, libation, and managed chaos in the quest for genius. He found it. I'm still looking.
(8) Figure (oil/canvas, zinc plate, litho)
Helluva way to capture the lady and her virtues. I've never seen nipples and nostrils so exquisite and interchangeable.
(9) Woman with a Chignon and Yellow Hat
Wife (his) in all her glamour. I imagine the hand on the face is gesturing, "Pablo, finish up, the trash won't take itself out".
(10) Jacqueline with a Multicolored Straw Hat (series from carved linoleum, staged in colors, details and vibrance)
So we start with faint silhouette and baseline virtue, homage to woman as the world's foundation. Then follow to add glow (yellow), fire (red), mood (periwinkle), passion (purple), and beauty (full blown spectrum). Oh, women, you of hues incomprehensible and indestructible to man.
(11) The Two Nudes (his take on Goya's "La Maja desnuda" and Manet's "Le Dejeuner Sur l'herbe")
New muse, old muse. Threesome fantasy. It's getting hot in here, so take off all our clothes. What? One loses steam. Oh no! The other falls asleep. Darn, bitches! Rosie, it's all yours tonight.
(12) Reclining Woman Reading
She's skimming through "Fifty Shades of Pablo". Chapter 12, "Brushes and Booty Calls: How a Flick of the Wrist Seals the Next Tryst".
(13) Photo - DDD again, July '57 (same Cannes villa), PP in his studio looking at "Head" work in progress
Deep contemplation. 42 days until NFL Opening Day. I need to kill time. Hey, Jacqueline, any PBRs in the fridge?!
(8/1/15)
What looks broken is really whole, and what looks whole is really broken,
There is an irony in this through ignorance and comfort when truth is avoided or remains unspoken,
I have watched love unfold in the depths of despair,
More so in the poor of spirit, truth is revealed there,
I've seen people well off, yet their hearts unsatisfied,
Taking care of their heart was never their goal in life,
And yet where do they go when they can't take the ignorance anymore?,
Money no longer satisfies, they reach out to the poor,
But just moments before they ridiculed, and turned their nose up in discust,
They claimed them to be crazy and laughed and scoffed,
Look at their mess, their addictions, their mistakes,
I cannot be associated with people who live this way,
Oh, my image,,,they scream, it will be ruined!,
People will start to label me, then I'll look poor and broken,
I will fall into poverty with the company I keep,
Forgetting that the truth will set them free,
Where do you set your eyes? Where does love reside?,
What are you living for? Open your eyes!,
If one person's intentions don't match the other,
They bang heads,,,they can't live together,
They can come for a visit, maybe have a cup of coffee,
But then their out n about and off n running,
Until they get out of breath, then your their relief,
Until finally the truth brings them to their knees,