Long Nails Poems
Long Nails Poems. Below are the most popular long Nails by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nails poems by poem length and keyword.
we drink ambrosia from goblets within our Hearts
browline meets browline you drink your own
which dripped into mine hush hush the surfer
and soldier homed, drinking ambrosia honed
yin-yang becomes yang-yin as frequencies ripple
from nerves slashing nerves when point pulse
point, nails dig nails, light entering wet wounds knuckles balloon, merged muscles sting sing,
bring strands blowing in west wind, leap peep
so deep to sleep, we drink ambrosia link link
cells bell into sounds spear sharp piercing thorn
horn, blood dripping under eyelids hot spot dawn
wolves howling across white space owl hooting
race, we drink ambrosia, drink as know bow
fades into breath within breath, nothing’s a mess let’s confess, house frames go up no shame ~
vertebrae calculating fame, down twig huts jut
rutting fall, drink ambrosia drink ~ magician
holds pentacle, cup, sword and wand, veined
eyeballs sprawl haul, drink ambrosia on brink
exchanging sonnets her mind mine, yours
divine, red butterfly sings on Mozart’s wings
we drink ambrosia as moths gain eyes to see
sight a blight bright seeking missing light
obscured to find from behind hills for the mill drinking ambrosia… lamb bleats at soul feats heralding unions near, silent lips turn dear
irises glance ears to hear tongue tasting
tongue, skin rum in sum hum ~ love tangles
a tango feeding volcano hot smear, rock
point brings pain rain, we drink ambrosia kink
surrender rains ambrosia, drink surrender
between toes in rows piano keys jump a
rump oh ! how blessed not to respond with
frightening haste the race and miles exposed
like star splinter acid into skin, no more lies no
more mask no more escape or rules crossing T’s
as I see your freedom futile fake on faded pleas
rake forsake, we drink ambrosia drink, then blink
do not ask it is His to give as He pleases, we
drink ambrosia, ample ramble drink the record
from loftier heights, drink ambrosia or S I N K
The end of the world is foretold to arrive any time soon so I am leaving a message in this bottle for anybody with advice on how to survive if this should happen again.
In the Bible it does state that the Earth will go on for eternity, so it must be something that will be at his hand that removes us from his creation.
The bottle you have now opened contains my favourite wine and I hope it is still drinkable. There is a warning though and some advice you may like to follow.
Red wine, they say, is good for the heart, but then they changed their minds and tell us is will kill us. So stick to white wine so instead
Eat plenty of fibre it’s good for you; you do not want to be stuck on the loo when the end arrives.
Eat five portions of fruit and vegetables a day; you want to be healthy at the end of the world.
If you see a large mushroom formation in the clouds, duck and cover, they told us they had disarmed all nuclear devices but I think they tell lies.
Find out who THEY are, we never did.
Don’t burn the candle at both ends; you want to look your best at the end.
When you wake up and find you have gotten old and it sneaked up on you and all the aches and pains that come with it, go out and welcome the end of the world.
As you have found this bottle I have to presume you have to start a new race just remember life can be a b***h so don’t marry one as well.
You will never find the missing link, so don’t look, accept it that some people really did fall off the ugly tree.
Never go to sleep angry at the person you are with, make sure you swap them regularly.
Remember it is not the Stork that brings the children, it is the lark in the night, buy a bird scarer.
That is all the advice I can give for now I need to get my nails and hair done in case it happens now. I want look my best, so go forth and multiply.
© ~GG~ 24/12/2012
Author Dana Redricks
April 2, 2024
In the garden of boundless grace, under heaven's embracing gaze, where whispers of mercy gently flow, and streams of compassion forever grows, lies a tale of love, so pure and true, a love that forever renews.
Lord, I stand in awe of Your magnificent love, a love that descended from the realms above,
willing to bear the weight, the pain, the strife, to lay down Your majestic, celestial life.
For me, a soul so frail, so flawed, You chose to bear the cross, to endure the nails, the scorn, the loss, You, who command the stars and sea, Lord You cried for me, bled for me, died for me.
In this world, where true love is so rare, and hearts are often filled with despair, seeking solace, seeking repair, no one can match the depth of Your divine embrace, You the One who knows every contour, every line of my face.
Your love, a fortress, unyielding in its power, a refuge in my darkest night, in the most desolate hour,
in Your arms, I find peace, I find rest, in Your heart, I am known, and I am truly blessed.
Lord, You're the only one who truly understands, the only one Who sees the invisible, Who hears the unspoken demands, in Your gaze, I find acceptance, in Your smile, I find grace, in Your presence, a love that time, nor tide can ever erase, or cease to be.
So, I sing of this love, so vast, so wide, a love for which You, Lord, were crucified, no greater affection have I ever known, than Yours, Oh Lord, for me, You have ceaselessly shown.
Let us stop talking of the light,
and instead walk unminded in it
as we do in our shoes
and the nails of our toes,
so delicately intact.
A cigarette here and there
will not keep the blot of grey,
this white metal railing framing
this narrow patio fixed
between me and all possibilities,
Love then like the wings of a butterfly.
Though let us not speak of love,
But gaze, simply gaze, upon the fluttering,
real or not, as it floats over the cold
smooth iron. Let all be, with our heart
touching all beyond the boundaries
of the varied weather of the soul.
Though let us not even speak anymore
of that ghostly key, for forever does the
door swing open with a swish, swish, swish
With the sound of swinging silence.
This alone we should rest in our communing,
faith-filled movement.
The sound of young voices in the night,
and the soft light of indoors, now,
with faried voices leading me down
this path...
Desolation smoothed at the calming of the swell,
begrudgingly accepted solitude, vacationed in Hell,
nails are sore and broken from the scratching of the well,
strengths gained through weakness? Only time can tell.
Inhalation of mist so that I may envision,
a clarity, a beauty, an historic masochistic decision,
a heart, a soul, birthing from an optimistic excision,
building blocks erected, no hope nor want for precision.
I walk now, I breathe the air that others may begrudge,
this history within me, in the grand scheme is just a smudge,
a beautiful mind now thinks of me, and with her thoughts I budge,
for sometimes to be strong again, you need an aiding nudge.
The sky looks so much brighter now as I search it for my star,
darkness and clouds need not affect the people who we are,
I have learned to look beyond the dark, to a new and fresh bazaar,
I sound so much more beautiful now as I sing to my guitar.
My layers peeled and my inside revealed, this look suits me now,
no need to yield or keep afield, nor take a solemn vow,
to the ghost of death that stole my breath, It's retreat I do allow,
as now I am bare and I'm suited right there, I am happy again somehow.
Standing defiant, her feet are apart,
Black fishnets from her thighs to the ground,
I’m mesmerized by this woman standing so proud,
She leaves me completely spellbound,
With black boots on a heel, short skirt and a shirt,
Buttoned half way up to its top,
I’m blown away with her blazing blond hair,
As she stands inside the book shop,
Gently pushing, with dark reddened fingertip nails,
Her glasses to the top of her nose,
Her red lips smile at me, as I stand like an idiot,
My mind emptied, I stuttered, I froze,
For this short moment of the day, I belonged to her,
I stood like a useless small clown,
I stood in front of her dominant stance,
My mysterious woman, I fell in love with, down town.
I got bucked off a mule, a horse, an antelope and a kangaroo.
I was so irritated I called my friends and gave them heck.
I am sure some of them said to themselves “she’s a pain in the neck”.
I did not care, for frankly, I did not know what else to do.
My stepmother yelled for me to hang up and get a life.
She never did like me as much as she likes my sister Sue.
I did not care; even she no longer makes me blue.
I still wonder why Daddy married her; was there no other wife?
I baked her a pie with nails, wallpaper paste and Elmer’s glue.,
But did she appreciate it? No, she did not even taste it!
I did what any thirteen-year-old girl would do; I had a fit!
And my Daddy ate it all up. He asked for seconds too!
I got bucked off a mule, a horse, an antelope and a kangaroo.
I was so irritated I called my friends and gave them heck.
I am sure some of them said to themselves “she’s a pain in the neck”.
I did not care, for frankly, I did not know what else to do.
My stepmother yelled for me to hang up and get a life.
She never did like me as much as she likes my sister Sue.
I did not care; even she no longer makes me blue.
I still wonder why Daddy married her; was there no other wife?
I baked her a pie with nails, wallpaper paste and Elmer’s glue.,
But did she appreciate it? No, she did not even taste it!
I did what any thirteen-year-old girl would do; I had a fit!
And my Daddy ate it all up. He asked for seconds too!
Her abs are exquisite,
And how 'bout dat ass?
Her children are ranked
At the top of their class.
Her life's on display,
Seems that everything's great,
From cars in the drive,
To the food on her plate.
The lawn's nicely manicured,
So are the nails;
The business is booming,
Just look at the sales!
But inside she's drowning,
She's empty, she's dead;
The dark's closing in
And she's over her head.
Those thousands of follows
And hundreds of friends,
But none she can call
Just to make it all end.
This life's never perfect,
It's often a lie.
So reach out, connect,
Go beyond a trite “Hi!"
Get out to the deep,
To the who, what, and why.
To schedule some face time
Just pick up the phone;
Get into her life
And out of your own.
PARALLEL ARE THE RAILS
(PRE-VERSE 1)
Feeling all alone
Cast away like a stone
Few friends what I got
True friends can’t be bought.
(VERSE 1)
Living is a joke
Think I’m about to choke.
Lookin’ at you
Lookin’ at me
Mirror is true (but the reflection is cracked)
False truths won’t set you free.
(Pre-Chorus)
I got my time
I got my rhyme
Beggin’ for a dime
Beggin’ for your time
(Chorus)
Bittersweet is the love (Sweeter than the lime)
Smellin’ like a clove
Burnt up in a stove
Rotting in a grove
Shrapnel of hardened nails
Pouring down like the rain
Storing away the parlayed pain
Parallel are the rails
Parallel are the rails
Parallel are the rails
Parallel are the rails
Parallel are the rails
(PRE-VERSE 2)
Heavy is the stone
When you’re all alone
Many friends were not what I thought
False friends are easily bought
(VERSE 2)
Drowning in the smoke
Deception is no joke
Reflection of you
Reflection of me
Mirror is true (but the reflection is cracked)
False truths won’t set you free.
(BRIDGE)
Dreaded are my locs
Dreadful are my thoughts
Locked away in my cerebral box
Cast away like abandoned lots
Got dreadlocks down below my needs
Beatles in the sound
Help me get around
Got hair like my ancestral Swedes
Brain damaged by Floyd
Brain examined by Freud
(PRE-VERSE 3)
Can I get a fix
Feelin’ a little sick
Like when I was six
Trippin’ over a stick
People like to stare
Like I’m some disease
But, I don’t care
I do as I please
(VERSE 3)
Ridin’ on a train
Lookin’ for a change
Freedom from the chain
Leaves me feeling strange
Lookin’ a little strange
Beaten by the chain
No time for change
Ridin’ on a train
(Pre-Chorus)
I got my time
I got my rhyme
Beggin’ for a dime
Beggin’ for your time
(Chorus)
Bittersweet is the love (Sweeter than the lime)
Smellin’ like a clove
Burnt up in a stove
Rotting in a grove
Shrapnel of hardened nails
Pouring down like the rain
Storing away the parlayed pain
Parallel are the rails
Parallel are the rails
Parallel are the rails
Parallel are the rails
Parallel are the rails
Lyricists Inc.
D.A.P. / Digital Analog Productions.
David A. Porter 3/??/18