Long Moist Poems
Long Moist Poems. Below are the most popular long Moist by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moist poems by poem length and keyword.
His mom always yelled at him,
" Get up, Jed and get to work;
move your lazy butt, sitting duck
and stop hanging out with Kim! "
" Wait, until I finish my gin, mom! " "
He sarcastically replied with a grim.
These silly words were shouted with contempt
by Jed, as he watched Kim play with reddish loam;
yuck! his lips smelled of Gordon's alcoholic drops!
" Let the horses get hungry and thirsty,
I need a minute to get up until dizziness stops,
I'll feed them hay, but they should roam
and eat pasture grass ..that's more healthy!"
" Do as I say, or your salary will be less than you expect! "
His angry mom brandishing a wood rolling pin,
" Get up and tend to the horses! " She ordered with disdain.
And stumbling on logs and branches
Jed complied by sticking out his moist tongue,
" I am as stubborn as a spoiled brat...
nobody can change me with tools and threats:
a cowboy's habits are hard to break like his image,
I comply and put on this straw hat! "
I was disappointed when I saw the plant she had chosen.
I have tried to raise these, and failed many times.
A philodendron, I said, pretending enthusiasm.
They like a dark place, not much sun, she told me.
I read up on them this time. They do not like their feet wet.
Okay. They like moist soil, not damp. I tried for three or four days.
Then I forgot she existed for a week. Her leaves turned yellow.
They dropped on the floor.
I picked them up and felt guilty.
Why a philodendron, I wondered?
This time I decided to name her.
I began to sing to her, I touched her gently daily.
She began whispering ideas to me.
They were good ones too.
Pretty soon she was lengthening herself up the wall.
Is that a philodendron? People asked, Amazed.
I said you may call her Magi.
One day I dreamed …
There was no longer any 'Third World',
Just a united 'First',
Famine clearly vanquished forever,
And no-one died of thirst.
Power was never used to enslave,
And wars were fought no more,
Man's resources were pooled together,
To help aid all the poor.
Man respected his fellow creatures,
Living in harmony,
The oceans free from all pollution;
Helped by 'green' energy.
People didn't need to live in fear;
Crime a thing of the past,
A planet no longer fragmented;
A one-peace world at last.
I awoke in time to catch the news;
News of crime, famine, war,
Moist-eyed I headed back to my bed,
To try and dream ... some more!
"The Dream of Her Untouched Sea"
Caressing Her tidal pools
the floor of Her Oceans rise
Sunlight through the crystal canopy
shines on Her
song of the siren mind
meeting the Majesty
all commanding
they commune with Her
within Her greater depths,
the Emeralds and Sapphires
of Her pristine sanctuary
kind and perilous, She is,
then all at once -
a tempest sanctified;
Love is all there is,
baptised in Her holy waters
kissed by Her grace
under Her god like body
no virus will survive
There lives in dreamlike state
another Kingdom
that breathes in plumes
nebulous then immaculate
Neptune sees freedom
bathed in light and dark depth hues
Christened in Her eyes
there floating before Her, You,
begotten, borne again
skin wet against Her mouth
hushed and warm
Her body opens and pulls you in,
you are lulled
by the velvet comfort
cool and calm
of Her silent reckoning,
the crest of Her waves
the rise and fall of
Her smooth satin,
She is sensuously moist
welcoming and forbidden
enticing you with
Her serene eminence one day,
the next, you’d gladly drown
to swim with mystical untouched souls
swallowed in Her voluptuous hallowed waters
salty skinned and hair all tangled
black and glistening
midnight blue
like seaweed and sea urchins
strung up and strewn
with ripe wide opened
red sea poppies
all wrapped around
your fingers
no ropes to pull you in
you are caught up in Her
all around you
you are hypnotised
She is dangerously close
and closing in
like you’re a sea leopard
caught, you’ve roamed too far
a hungry sea wolf ensnarled
and grinning in Her freedom net
you are swimming deeper into her
seduced, just longing, yet
to somehow be
the deeper not the shallow
in the dream of Her untouched sea
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
How to find the art of living,
how to find the art of love
To find the very art of harmony
circulating from above
Native trees shrubs and tussocks
growing down along the creek
Birds, wallabies, frogs, echidnas,
that's the kind of life I seek
Planting seeds in the garden,
building a wooden fence
It's the nature that surrounds me,
that really makes so much sense
Lying on my back in the sunshine,
watching fluffy clouds go by
Sometimes a wedge tailed eagle
glides across a clear blue sky
Running on the grass bare feet
naked in the warm moist breeze
Exhilaration fills the body,
with so much delighted ease
Found the very art of living,
found the very art of love
Found the very art of harmony
circulating from above
April has a lovely appearance.
The clocks are set forward by one hour.
April showers fetch May flowers.
The soil is kept moist by gentle rains.
On the kitten's paws in the early dawn.
Soft, soothing breezes soothe the senses.
And ocean sounds to soothe your soul.
It's time to let it arise; April has arrived.
Even in April, the nights still cold.
During the day, it was pretty calm.
It's difficult for us to observe the flowers.
Overshadowed by the shower glower.
The flowers bloom with the moment.
Followed by the leaves in April and May.
Filling the flowers with a delicate beauty?
There were a lot of flowery, citrusy scents.
Licorice with fennel and aniseed flavors.
The happiest time of the year.
Summer and spring are merrier.
We sowed the seeds in the garden.
After the last frost had passed.
Most likely, we're eager to yield it a whirl.
To feel the warm scent of April.
It's optimistic and charming.
As it stretches, and as we admire.
The month of April brings sureness
various types of tinny songbirds are active.
By tomorrow, April will have moved on.
I'm ecstatic with the lovely May blossoms.
April will conceal tomorrow's tears and redness.
April is a month of sobriety.
April shudders at the fun life.
Faith and hope are constant companions.
We're thinking around our rebirth.
Anything that is in the routine of being renewed.
There will be a lot of family pets and newborns.
Thank you for resurrecting the dazzles, April.
We've been dealing with heavy snow for months.
God was merciful, and the earth was in his hands.
In April, this is a symbol of God's line with the spirit.
Creating a delighted and equitable society.
Written: April 11, 2021
Edited : April 24, 2021
All Yours (Apr 25) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Go ahead and celebrate the harvest season
You drove the machines, you cut the grain
Plan a banquet, you don't need any reason
You plowed and sowed, even when in pain
You drove the machines, you cut the grain
Sun sizzled brightly to heat ocean's weather
You plowed and sowed, even when in pain
Sun, wind, and rain worked well together
Sun sizzled brightly to heat ocean's weather
Moist air rose high to form clouds in the sky
Sun, wind, and rain worked well together
Winds brought rain when fields were dry
Moist air rose high to form clouds in the sky
Seedlings grew rapidly in the misty sunshine
Winds brought rain when fields were dry
Farmland vacillates with its yields so divine
Seedlings grew rapidly in the misty sunshine
Amid the evening wind that eagerly blows
Farmland vacillates with its yields so divine
As steady rain from the skies willingly flows
Amid the evening wind that eagerly blows
Plan a banquet, you don't need any reason
As steady rain from the skies willingly flows
Go ahead and celebrate the harvest season
October 3, 2017
HM: Strand select S by Brian Strand
The Gargoyle Yawns
The Fogwalker searches for clues in the moist darkness of early morning. The mist feels it's way through empty alleys and vacant lots.
Cautious footsteps crackle from the gravel pathway lined with broken glass and dry leaves, evidence the Autumn Equinox has smothered the last breath of summer.
Gangways between decaying brick buildings echo from dogs sounding an alarm with menacing Baskerville howls and barks.
A garden of flickering street lights blossom under the black canopy of darkness. These twilight flowers reach for a lazy moon with the dim enthusiasm of jaundice fluorescence.
The Diogenestic odyssey by the nocturnal straggler is an exercise clothed in failure. Honesty dressed in shabby clothes is disguised as a fictitious conviction. This quality that measures the value of character is a virtue that few possess and is rarely practiced.
Who does this best policy of honesty benefit? Is it the one divulging the truth or the recipient of honesty? The best part of this said truth are the lies.
Standing at the edge of night peering over the ledge into dawn the Gargoyle yawns.
Amazon mist and rainy mornings green as the day God made them
dropping from a moist sky full of even grays and sheltering light
peaceful music playing from the spheres of a dense forest dream
we are little humans in a big big giant cave, .... the rain
Pitter patter drops on thirsty tree in a world that is evened once again
sheets of rain fall from my window and I click click click and glean
a slow memory of old, photographs of mom and dad inside the garden
we were small and happily drinking in the scene .... the rain
Sentinel watches from soldiering evergreens I lived there before
the white washed walls of peace and the age old chanterelle danced
as the raindrops settle in my soul, I compose a poem about downpour
Petrichor scents permeate my living space as I listen to ... the rain
Rainsticks and drums Native chants and Pagan dreams of old I remember
Lady Gianne and her healing chants, how she lifted her face to the winds
"Heal me now and make me whole" * " Bring peace and love forevermore"
As nature creates pathways to equity, the rain loves US, .... the rain
For those of a military cast of mind
There are many poems they can find
Which do embellish battlefield glory
In the telling of their story.
But for me there is another field of play
Where merry pleasure is ne'er far away.
Not for me delight in weapons martial
Rather the joy of parts venereal.
Your soft hair framing your face
Your soft lips yielding with grace
And your soft darting tongue lambent
with the sweetness of heaven sent
That elegant and graceful neck I next address
Whereon a gentle peck and soft caress
Lead to the ruby roundels of your swelling areolae
Atop which stand your radiant and pert papillae.
How the gentle smooth curve of your skin
Gently and softly draws me in
Until, as brave as stout Cortes ,
I rest upon Mons Veneris
Nestling in the ***** is
The magic of the ********
Whose caressing works like a charm
To trigger a mighty ******
Then down through those wisps of hair
Until I joyously find where
Your ***** moist and moistening
Do invite my tongue to paddle in
That divine nectar of your welling spring
With legs spread wide signals me come in
To fulfil the passion of our play
And unite in loving ecstasy.
'Twas Ovid with his Ars Amatoria
Explored amoris ars gladiatoria
Wherein your scabbard could sheathe my sword
And that is the purpose of this world.
Where military men are needed
To keep us safe and undefeated
My plea to make love,not war
Is my carmen et error.