Long Mira Poems
Long Mira Poems. Below are the most popular long Mira by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mira poems by poem length and keyword.
Her Cheekbones, smooth as pebbles
Grasped tightly in his sexed up hand, sweating indelicately
Resembling that night the thoughts between the sheets were conceived
Weighing like soaked white carpets
Beneath flea market stands
She Is Beautiful, she is beautiful
Belladonna, noxious
Dusty eyes and wavy hair
Neruda book shoveled away somewhere deep
Inside her closet full of chewed up bones
Illumination, dying in Latin never seemed like
A juxtaposition before the closing of the soul
At least his eyes are a Cambridge blue
Jazz muted in Mortality sings on dangling participles leaking out
From the saxophone
What is that worth?
Thick waist, hourglass coke-a-cola
Mama-sita, mira mira
Lolita-like N.Y.M.P.H.O.ed up eyelashes
Coating tears with manufactured glob
Somebody put in a bottle
The higher your skirt the more your face value
Goes up, up, up pass the mystery between monogyny and the thighs
Right between the slit ice
Like Mmmm, and he slides past the first three bases
Oooh Girl you look so good in those Six Inch Heels
What is it worth,
to throw away your
Worth
For a toaster oven and a washed up guy sitting on your back porch
Scratching his head waiting to be given a pardon for his misdeeds
While American Media stole him away
And blamed it on the graffiti on the Church Walls when it was really
Hipshot for the Hip-Hop , This shameless act of cytotoxicity
when it was really
The Devil trying to slow dance with the pretty girl behind the stage
Eyes that lie time after time and are almond shaped but see no further
Then 6 feet deep and a saxe blue sky
Baby girl, on auction in the club
(Going once, going twice, it’s okay we’ll sell her half price!)
Like a slave, a sycophant child to some sick twisted game
Dancing in the Matrix style of killing the clock
Biting off the hands, to chew them up, spit them out
To pretend like the world isn’t ending over our heads
Seven kids, bloated waist, waitress fingers and lips
Smile, Misfortune dotes on you, Lucky One
What are you going to do when your looks run out?
Heyyy girl, what’s your face value?
______
\ /
my thoughts
have reached
your heart, li-
ke a solo star
that's wishe-
d on for mira-
cles. I pray y-
our well my lo-
ve, yet guarded wit-
hin my mind, my soul is
close. Like a star that gleam
in a flash we share the same
desires, though miles apart, so
now our bliss souls rest oceans away, our
fine love still shinning-----When my message
finds you at the shore line, I pr- ay you
read it in time, I admire you an- d adorn
you with my joyful tears. The da- y nice
to us, possibly this note will find you
walking bare feet along the shor - eline sand
a wine bottle among your feet un- expected
your soul will find me-----through light
years. I pray you place your love inside this
blissful star, return to the water,
and I will hope one day soon,
i get to hold you near~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
my soul ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
my gracious love~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
one day~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blushing Russian and Triangle Affair
Trump our minds likes to be littering;
Us suffer from experiences debilitating;
False accusations making not quitting;
Loose orange hair and logs often splitting.
(Can you imagine Trump like a log splitter
who was Lincoln not telling lies known as
Honest Abe not sex with a babe.)
Trump's mind is caught in a quagmire,
Surrounded by women he does desire
More of them expects a proliferation
While at Mira Lago on his vacation.
To look for book Trump went to Library
Of Congress and as usual quite contrary'
Through members searched and hunted
Never finding anything he had wanted.
Women he wanted were always Russian;
Had hand up behind and caught blushing
Big show for Trump on they were putting
Just like she did last time she saw Putin.
All of them were embarrassed as can be
There in bedroom we did detect all three;
Was a companionship beyond compare,
Well known as Russian Triangle Affair.
Here is called beckoning Bermuda triangle
When you are either in Mira or Key Largo;
Women are considered as excess cargo.
I wrote this just for Andrea who I presume
and assume is still watching a movie with
her handsome husband. If he looks anything
like she does he must appear to be exceeding,
extraordinarily outstanding. Hope she doesn't
laugh out loud and bother every body sometime.
Do you think Dean Martin's ghost may be sitting
behind them?
On Attack: A Rainbow Six Siege Poem
By: Jacob Wallihan
Time to prepare
The drones are on the field
Rolling right towards
The building called “Coastline”
Callouts for the position of the bomb
Not Kitchen
Not Bar
Not Billiards
It’s Penthouse
Spotted the enemies
2 Roamers
Caveira and Ela
3 Anchors
Pulse, Mira, Rook
All spotted picking up
Rook’s Armour
Drone’s all shot
Pick the spawns
Pool is mine
Let’s Go
Spawn in
3 minutes on the clock
A 5 man squad
Montagne with Blackbeard
The hard breachers;
Hibana
Thermite
For Intel: Lion
Enter the building Hibana
Through VIP window
Frag the Ela
5 v 4
Montagne
With defuser
Walks into Guitar
In doorway to Penthouse
Blackbeard watching Monty
Sees the Rook
Reacts late
4v4
Hibana places a claymore
VIP hallway
Runs back to window and vaults
Lion activated “Big Brother”
Hibana rushes past Monty
Lion
With grace
Bounds through bathroom hatch
With Hibana
Picks off Rook and Mira
4v2
Monty smokes
Goes for the plant
C4 below
Sends Monty out the window
3v2
Defuser down
Thanks to Lion
Pulse
Activating the claymore
Flies into the courtyard
3v1
Caviera
Running quietly into theatre
Downs Lion and Hibana
Throws a hail mary
Monty doesn’t react in time
Cav gets the defuser
Over the coms
“OPFOR disabled our defuser”
“Mission a failure”
Señor Che, ¿duerme?
No, Paco. Pero dime que pasa
O, Dios... Nada!
Pasa que pasa, compañero. Habla!
Cuenta el dolor que cada
El dia pasada lo pone en las noches
Habla...
Señor, tengo un sueño en mi almohada
Pero un sueño tan estraño
Porque mi almohada
Es llena con el cuarzo
De la arena fina
De Orthents de Sierra Nevada
Vamos a comer nuestras bocas
Vamos a beber el agua de las estrellas
Vamos a mendigar en la Vía Láctea
Vamos a dormir por siempre
Da igual
Tuve un sueño estraño
Ya no lo se si es de buena suerte
U mal
Cry, baby, cry
For both of us know the reason why
Cry, baby, cry
Cause I'm coming
Oh, yes, I'm coming
I'm coming to you
I'll be back home tonight
No hay ni mar ni rio
No hay ningun océano
No hay nada de nada
Solo la arena en mi almohada
Mi padron, por favor, reza al Dios
Pasa que pasa, pero, amigos mios,
Tenenemos que cambiar
Nuesto camino. Este lugar nos ofrece nada
Y ademas, mira el cielo, gran hermano del mar
Los ambos dicen: Vaya con Dios, Paco!
Este mundo no mererce
Ni tu sueño ni tu sangre
Aquí o allí no hay nada mas para luchar
Llora, mi amor, llora
Moja con tus lágrimas la tierra
Un mar ya va a nascer
Entre mi desierto y nuestro lugar
Llora, mi amor, llora...
Esta noche llego en tus brazos
Y nunca mas no vas a llorar
Tall and willowy she stands
out from all the other women;
her face most expressive
when the choir sings a song.
"Out on the Mira, on warm afternoons..."
her voice blends so easily,
a tone clear and strong.
I glance at her occasionally
noting with pleasure
the pleasure on her face;
singing with others
is her special place.
I stand and sing in the bass section
trying to follow the conductor's direction,
but, admittedly, I am distracted
by the long-legged alto
standing several feet away.
I want to engage with her...
not sure what I'll say.
During a break,
I catch her eye by smiling...
her look is demure
and so beguiling.
I try to be funny,
to "be cool with the lines"
but then I stop myself;
it's best to be genuine.
We converse with small talk,
I see her face brighten;
my own nervousness eases,
I feel my mood lighten.
She says her hands feel cold,
I say mine are quite warm.
I reach out to hold them,
a boyish attempt to charm.
She does not pull them away,
in fact, they relax.
We seem to have
made a connection...perhaps.
My heart jumps,
a feeling deep emerges
so real, so true,
and then I smile and think
"I'd love to fall
in love with you."
Mira… Lo que paso con el mundo
The streets are wastelands -no longer safe- desolate
Look at the sky full of gray nothing, dead from idiotic spews
Look at the children, rasied from ghetto ideals, chasing futile dreams
Look at my mother, saddened by grief and a broken back from carrying
Shards of generations, shattered from hammers of the “just”
Look at my religion, faded and jaded once all the old people die
Look at my neighbors, locked doors and hiding behind blinds
Look at my hands, my heart, my mind, my soul
All cut from trying to pick up jagged pieces of an already destroyed vase
Mis amores, mis flores, te amo con todo mi Corazon
Even flawed and tainted I see the beauty in it all
Every molecule, atom, nucleus combined makes good and evil, together
I give this knowledge to you
Don’t you love how the air heals wounds that seem insurmountable to the eye?
Happiness wouldn’t feel as joyful if pain wasn’t present, wouldn’t it?
Would you take it all, and embrace it?
Note__
I wrote this for my A.P Lit class, I thought it was good enough to share. Take that,
English Teacher, I do more than just sleep in class! heheh.
''Mighty: 'Mira, have you seen the dam's reservoir level rise?''
Its water spills over, a dangerous disguise
Mira: ''Yes, I have, my friend. It is a terrible sight
The flood brings a destructive might".
Mighty: ''The Engineers, they say it is all for good.
To generate power, for the people's hood.
But what about the homes and lands below?
The waters rage, will they ever know?''
Mira: ''The dam stands tall between us two.
A symbol of man's power, but also their woo.
Nature's force, cannot withstand.
The flood's fury will sweep through this land''.
Mighty: ''Oh! Mira, I fear for those downstream.
Their safety and homes seem like a terrible dream.
The water's rise knows no bounds.
Its power is immense, it knows no grounds."
Mira: '' But still, we stand strong, like guardians of old.
Witnesses to man's might, and to nature's hold.
And though the flood may come, with all its might.
We'll stand here forever, throughout day and night".
So let the flood rage on, with all its might
For man and nature, will surely fight
And though the dam may falter, and the water may spill.
Our strength will stand steadfast still.
under this gray sky
to the name rose they gave sharp thorns
to the name nettles nothing to suggest the itch when touching them
maybe it's just fate and nothing but appearance
although
every sweet arrival is preceded by a steep path
and every profound evil is hidden to the world
only if whoever whatches has no heart to see
...........
sotto questo cielo grigio
al nome di rosa hanno dato affilate spine
al nome ortiche
niente che suggerisca il prurito al toccarle
forse è solo il destino e nient'altro che apparenza
eppure
ogni dolce arrivo è preceduto da un ripido sentiero
e ogni male profondo è nascosto agli occhi del mondo
solo se chi guarda non ha cuore per vedere
..........
bajo este cielo gris
al nombre rosa dieron espinas afiladas
al nombre ortigas
nada que sugiera la picazón al tocarlas
tal vez es solo el destino y nada más que apariencia
pero aún
cada dulce llegada es precedida por un camino empinado
y todo mal profundo está oculto a los ojos del mundo
solo si quien mira no tiene corazón para ver
Marco Bo
Your once familiar voice sounds
Foreign
and garbled
and angry
it burns more
Than any of the hot sorrow
That I’ve allowed to sink into me
For a year too long
Im realizing more and more
Just what species of person you are
Y mira, cabron
It’s a bad diagnosis- and I’m not one
To deliver bad news
Unless I can laugh
Or unless I could unearth the vast store
Of the pain you’ve wrought
At a snap, at a blink, at a raised hand in defense
Could I even begin to think
Could I remember my burning stomach
Or the shaking fingers or the ringing in my head
Or how you’ve killed me a thousand times
Or have I’ve damned myself, just as you said?
Probably not… and I probably can’t
Even when a burn gives me ash and flakes of skin
A cut gives me a tool to hone my bloodthirsty nails
And every reason in the world straps shoes
To my tired feet
Puts a shovel in my hands, and instruction in my heart
To find my mouth again
To find a smile and say, hey! I’ll give you what you deserve
I don’t know
But either way
Today,
I love less.