Long Mute Poems
Long Mute Poems. Below are the most popular long Mute by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mute poems by poem length and keyword.
Hello Sweetie, where have you been
It's way too long since we cuddled
How's bout making up for lost time tonight
Make my brain all befuddled
I'll make the first move, my love of loves
Then you'll show me your feminine guile
Remember how it always made me cross my eyes
Then I'd become mute for a while
Can't wait to experience that feeling again
Bet you're still damn good with your digits
Howling in unison as we writhe away
Screams of exultation were emitted
Then POW, WHAMMO, that ultimate feeling
Only you, sweet thing, can unleash
As we drift off into a night of sheer splendour
And dine on a sexual feast
© Jack Ellison 2014
Peaceful afternoon laziness
Shyness escapes Irish Cream -
In a coffee cup
Thin strings of steam belly dance
A mute black and white movie
Jumps images of a passing life
In a warm cottage, on a freezing purity
She's all alone although the lobby is crowded
Restless tourists looking for their identity
On the top of a mountain, proud of their shinny skis
The wall reflects her life and Charlie Chaplin's shoes
Once new now with painful holes in the sole
They made people laugh a careless, cruel laughter
Acting with such ease as if real: the romance, the Dictatorship
the New, foreign Times, the bars...
regardless of standard, acceptable height
people laughed until THE END.
www.scripca.com
I choose "Motion Pictures" for Amy's Contest
When love is too loud, and lurid,
it languishes in lewd, lusty lakes.
When love is silent, and steadfast,
it sings sweetly with soft waves on sea shores.
When love is motionless and mute,
it meanders to black mold and makes miserable, monotonous marshes.
So let me
love thee silently, softly,
with actions,
with adjectives and valiant verbs.
Saying I love you with
kind kisses,
empathetic embraces,
tender touches,
longing looks,
weary work, and
tedious tasks.
An underwater silence full of
graceful gestures and
mysterious moves…
…letting love lead, and last a lifetime.
Written for the contest, ‘Epiphany’
sponsored by Constance La France
________________________________
Trapped in a routine, not of my liking,
I saw my life spinning out of control,
through highs and lows atop fate’s Ferris wheel,
wherein outcomes any, my soul’s light dimmed,
on recognising conscience stood betrayed,
strangled by none else, my wayward ego.
Something deep within my heart was broken,
needing healing but I did not know how,
so poised in the dark dungeons of despair,
stepping back I became a mute witness
to labours of mind and my troubled heart,
looking at their movements with dispassion.
Relinquishing ownership over thought,
polarising consciousness so to speak,
my body-mind became an instrument,
used by us to experience earth life,
so in a mindfulness continuum,
my fulcrum slowly became void-centric.
Having discarded conditioned beliefs,
resolving to remain still forever,
it came to pass on a sunny morning,
my form was suffused with bliss magnetism,
felt within as rapture ineffable,
paving way for kundalini to rise.
In a single swoosh, liquid light then rose,
from the root, all the way up to the crown,
passing through a small orifice therein,
so to pass through, I had to choose to die,
by dissolving myself in this torrent,
whence my formless self went into the void.
In inky black darkness, I felt alive,
for within no-thingness, energy hummed,
wherein the voice of God spoke, loud and clear,
imparting wisdom known to very few,
at the source of life, outside space and time,
wherefrom all manifestations arise.
The following day, I invited God
to dwell in my heart, making it His home
and as I wished, so it was, instantly,
as spirit pervaded each cell of form,
in a manner clearly cognisable,
illumining me with love, light and bliss.
The psalmist makes a promise or two
to guard his mouth and his ways
holding his tongue so not to sin
when the wicked presence stays
But finds it so difficult to do
for fighting within is burning fire
causing his distress to grow worse
now he speaks to prove he's no liar
O Lord show me my life's length
show me the shortness of it all
you've made it only a breath or two
so my life is in a long stall
My hope is in the Lord to wait
so from my transgressions deliver me
remove your very heavy hand off
make my prayer's answer to see
Sojourn with you I will continually
despite my tears let me know peace
look away so I can again smile
before my life here will cease
(PSALM 39 (ESV)
I said, “I will guard my ways,
that I may not sin with my tongue;
I will guard my mouth with a muzzle,
so long as the wicked are in my presence.”
I was mute and silent;
I held my peace to no avail,
and my distress grew worse.
My heart became hot within me.
As I mused, the fire burned;
then I spoke with my tongue:
“O Lord, make me know my end
and what is the measure of my days;
let me know how fleeting I am!
Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths,
and my lifetime is as nothing before you.
Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath! Selah
Surely a man goes about as a shadow!
Surely for nothing they are in turmoil;
man heaps up wealth and does not know who will gather!
“And now, O Lord, for what do I wait?
My hope is in you.
Deliver me from all my transgressions.
Do not make me the scorn of the fool!
I am mute; I do not open my mouth,
for it is you who have done it.
Remove your stroke from me;
I am spent by the hostility of your hand.
When you discipline a man
with rebukes for sin,
you consume like a moth what is dear to him;
surely all mankind is a mere breath! Selah
“Hear my prayer, O Lord,
and give ear to my cry;
hold not your peace at my tears!
For I am a sojourner with you,
a guest, like all my fathers.
Look away from me, that I may smile again,
before I depart and am no more!”)
A story of nightmare's wish to stir and stay,
did you seek to awake?,
something is predator that now ply here day,
it could have sought to yonder hate,
to revert morning cool crispiness and cud tomorrow,
a sort of pounding did earth reject,
even if he were allowed to dream willingly now.
No bosom of unknown air serves it,
you may check nineteen summer and winter autumns,
here trees and leaves have by virtue fit,
nor little is accepted to mute their green's,
desist ply last century silencer scum,
of a copper factory of underground,
adventure, there could have been many more evils and sins of such a dream.
Oh!, offspring of earth's kind safe your,
children of this century to resist and deny,
it, if it were a plan to storm you, how unfair,
it is a false theory,
now, that they are busy to make attempt,
what does that sigh to?,
how should you throw that behind as mistrust?.
"Work pals who Zoom together, stay together." (taken from an article "36 captions for Zoom Meetings, not attributed to anybody in particular)
I’d never heard of Zoom before a few short years ago.
But in my teaching it became a thing I had to know.
It took about a week to learn, for I’m a little slow,
but after two years I can say I still am not a pro!
I made up terms: Zoom on; Zoom off. I only can suppose
that others working from their homes have made up terms like those.
These days I teach while in the classroom, yet up on the screen
are kids I bet are still in “jammies,” just their faces seen!
Some young adults opt to stay home. It makes things hard for me.
Games can’t be played when half the class is learning virtually!
Things can get crazy when somebody isn’t using Mute,
and you might hear some background noises not exactly cute.
We teachers know not everyone is focusing on class.
One good thing is no one has to know if you have gas!
Yes, it’s a crazy world, and even Zoom dating’s a thing,
while Zumping is the latest craze to dump a Zoom-time fling.
Feb. 2, 2022 for the Buzzwords Contest of Kim Rodrigues
An auburn glow
of freckled comeliness
not young not old
a little thick set
like a mature cat
When we pass a book
between us
our fingertips withdraw
scalded by small print
The room is crowded
but it is far away
like a story in a closed volume
We are alone
beyond the codex of morality
We both know
that I want to lay her down
on this tiled civic floor
to imprint a passion
upon a mute press
There is an understanding
a regard
that fast birds
and slow elephants have
for mutual journeys
I envision
her creamy thighs
lofted high
her sensible skirt
pulled over her head
as we grunt sotto voce
between aisles K to Q
I am an appendage.
I am a tool.
I am his accompaniment.
I am an addition.
I am an attachment.
I am the accretion formed from abuse.
I am nothing without him to tell me what I am worth.
I am only something when he loves me.
I am only worth anything when I am convenient.
I am supposed to be enjoyable.
I am supposed to be to his benefit.
I am supposed to be easy.
I am supposed to satisfy.
I am supposed to be useful.
I am told to be practical.
I am told to be appropriate.
I am told to be available.
I am told to stay mute.
I am told to be passive.
I am told to submit.
I am a person.
I am feeling.
I am alive.
I am not his appendage.
I don't have to be a wife before I am myself.
Before I am happy.
I am tired of how I am treated.
I am ready to be a combatant.
I am ready to accept the bruises if it is for the last time.
I am ready to feel like me again.
I want to be me again.
The balcony bows like a bridge unmaintained.
Song birds are silent, their hearts uninspired.
Grape vines hunker down as if never trained.
Scarlet petals fall, their fragrance expired.
Shattered is the night sky like sharp glass shards.
Sparks, once in our eyes, liquify the ground.
Minstrels are mute in abandoned courtyards.
Pitter-patter is the refraining sound.
Masquerade faces can no longer hide
from the truth that beauty departs with death.
A dagger divides a young groom and bride;
lamenting cries consume their final breath.
The script is flipped over like clover in mud.
Misconstrued love poisons life-giving blood.
8-15-2022