Long Noun Poems
Long Noun Poems. Below are the most popular long Noun by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Noun poems by poem length and keyword.
I don't have any money, means the check is in the mail
I ain't got no money, means the water's dried up in the well
black folks tend to use language, lingo and speech
that can be considered bicultural
they can speak as refined as they want or they can talk guttural
but the message I want most to convey
Is what we gonna do about the youth of today?
when young people kill and maim,
on whom do you place the sin and the blame?
Is It the fault of the parents?,
or Is It the fault of the children?
Is It the sins of the father that have been revisited since the beginning?
as sin Is a state of being, It's a noun and not a verb
so what are we going to do,
to make a change in this world?
as people of the faith It's time for us to intercede
before It's too late so the evilness can no longer breed
our youths are in trouble
It matters not who Is to blame
we need to take some responsibility
and stop naming names
so what we gonna do?
we either poop or get off the pot
show our children what Is Godly behavior and tell them what Is not
It's not do as I say, But do as I do
be a living testimony that the young can look up to
but in order to teach, you must be teachable
to reach out, be accessible and reachable
don't compete with your children
It's okay to be their friend
as long as you don't blur that fine line
that exists between parent and children
so what we gonna do?
either we'll be good role models
and teach our youth to take a stance
or be poor examples of leadership
not even giving them a chance
God is in control, but we are also in the mix
we can't leave the raising of our youth for God alone to fix
as parents we play a major role in our children's situations
as parent we have some measure of control
and considerable consideration
as children are taught by example
we must also be aware of our behavior
so bring them into the faith, tell them about God
and let them know that JesusChrist is their Savior
It's not exegesis but extra Jesus that the youth of today need
plus concerned, caring and loving adults
who will help them in life to succeed
Cherry blossoms stargaze as spring air comes;
East and west cross at Bells of Ireland: warm and calm;
Welling slowly to cede: tender sage thoughts,
Upon two hearts link, after hundreds of sought and fought.
Cathedral posts accent with ribbons of violets.
Congregate white orchids grin alongside the aisles,
Roseband sings tunes: forget-me-not to highest.
Wearing her lavender gown,Heather walks with smiles;
Clasp in her hands,tulip bouquet, guests she stun
Her Lilac in tuxedo waits: eyes locked tight in knot
Gentleness bestow from heavens, ever won
Their iris fuse glued; love radiating allot
Matching band's inscription: embroidered golden rings
Baby's breath, a grand wish soon very soon, will spring.
NOTE: All bold words are different flowers.. :) I always love flowers. I am always fascinated of their beauty and charm but more than these I am inspired by them: philosophically and emotionally as well ... :D
(c) Olive Eloisa
11:45pm
June 24, 2014
Sponsor Cyndi MacMillan
Contest Name GARDEN PARTY: VERB-alized NOUN-sense with FLORAL ACCENTS
placed 2nd place.. :) to God be the greatest glory :)
No petal knows the flower it helps become.
Yet every edge contributes to its net sum.
What petals cannot see, the bloom makes whole.
Each separate curve completing one shared soul.
A boundary gives every petal, grace and form.
Its edges hold through sunlight, rain, and storm.
We cannot grow by leaving limits far behind.
We grow between the lines that shape within the mind.
Perhaps transcendence isn't traveling so far away,
But opening wider to what's within today.
The bud becomes what folded silence knew,
By letting what was hidden freely move through.
So nothing leaves the pattern we pass through.
Bud, petal, bloom keep coming into our view.
Transcendence is to become, not to enclose.
Beyond the petal, yet within the waiting rose.
No petal knows the flower it will help create.
Each keeps its edge, yet joins a larger state.
What petals cannot see, the flower makes one.
The whole emerges as all the parts are spun.
Beauty needs boundaries; edges give each its place.
Petal beside petal slowly shapes the flower's face.
We need not break the borders that limits define,
But meet between and through them, to yours and mine.
Becoming, opening, flowering as we grow,
Participles trip wherever changing currents flow.
No finished noun can truly tell us who we are.
We're verbs still blooming, reaching past the bar.
So nothing truly leaves, and nothing stands alone.
Each petal joins a pattern never fully known.
Transcendence isn't escaping, what we yearn to be—
It's opening just enough to find, what we can't see.
Tuneful preludes play on whoosh of spring wind
as flowers spread their kaleidoscopic wings
Two quartets daze in awe while celebrating
a reunion with picnic and ballroom dancing.
The golden showers radiate and incandesce…
Tulips and jasmine nearby bloom so fresh.
Like utopia where ensembles are veritable
Birds of paradise hung their notes to warble.
Music plays…. in graceful moves…smiles scintillate
a luncheon together - each one will never forget.
Memories are all in photos with red roses
Big sunflowers are captured…jutting our faces.
I hold tenaciously an album in a bright clip
of families in garden party for close friendship.
July 7, 2014 11.10pm
Third Place
Contest: Garden Party: Verb-alized Noun-sense with floral accents
Judged: 7/15/2014
Sponsor: Poet Cyndi MacMillan
______________________________________________________________
It still hurting alot
Mother, it hurts so much
methinks my head is about to, I can
fathom that thought of my head will o
explode, bits and pieces of me scattered________________t
around for all to see the shiny in's
of me because of my denied dues
not to be like autumn trees and
thrush of life's breaths shedding
whites off my hair expose its amber
If I surrender will I get my summer,
our talk that soured will sweeten
the hour? Query on hold. Hold, 'tis
aching yearns for its light skin tones
some shade, some toning to
hide. A walking dead
they'll see--weird, beach
sand, I face yet ere me
a challenge be ca ut io us ly
taken out thy sullen pose fates
a wild, wild guess, be my knees subtly
repenting. Nay, not knees, essence. A noun, trickery. Shall I count the days spent within your tummy,
Mommy? Oh very well I will clean my room until the
day comes when I raise my hand and that all five fingers, you'll see thee racist who had emerged in my mirror of late, and cast then shadows just out of sight seize d--arrested in plain view by America's finest doing bet review to say
that justice is well seems to be in order
from what I see,
there are fingers of
contempt and to my
mirror grip negativity,
I offer thee the pleasure
of my knee, lest my feet get
in the weigh ..., of a deserving
kick, one goes awry like a brat such as I.
I liked her; she was a strong women,
she could bench press 200 Ibs.
We drifted apart
I heard she got into female sumo wrestling,
I guess that should have been a red flag.
We still corresponded on Facebook.
When she changed her name to Butch
and her preferred pro-noun to Z,
I thought it may have been just me
she was pranking.
Then one night we met by chance
In the same pub.
Tats, nose bolt and red crew-cut,
her I, mean not I.
All hell broke loose
when a tough looking drunk
wolf whistled her.
Fists flew and bloody mayhem erupted.
The guy has since transgendered -
he’s now a right pussy
and their dating.
Oracle
(Noun : a priest or priestess
acting as a medium
through whom advice or prophecy
was sought from the gods in classical antiquity.)
He speaks in Virtue
She is a sign language interpreter
He delivers in messages
Sad news. Sad news. Sad News.
It is all about an old scarf; old, but a nice one,
An almost invalid try to cherish a long-forgotten memory,
As life talks in many ways, through ups and downs, glum and glee,
Also, in a subtle tone, through the tremendous lens of wiser perception,
Only to find…
That fine line…
Between memory and fascination….
As time goes on…
I realized slowly…
In all the last efforts to see her glowing in my mirror,
In all the extra time of stirring to make the dish as perfect as her,
I was a mere shadow of a proxy, figuring a rather twenty-four-hour job
Never quite touched the finish line, never got spirited enough to cope up.
A sigh of relief, a deep memory of belongingness, could, still, hold the essence
An old scarf, an embroidered one, only enough to hold on to the long, long lost one.
It is all about an old scarf; old, but a nice one,
An almost invalid try to cherish a long-forgotten memory,
As life talks in many ways, through ups and downs, glum and glee,
Also, in a subtle tone, through the tremendous lens of wiser perception,
Only to find…
That fine line…
Between memory and fascination….
As time goes on…
I realized slowly…
In all the last efforts to see her glowing in my mirror,
In all the extra time of stirring to make the dish as perfect as her,
I was a mere shadow of a proxy, figuring a rather twenty-four-hour job
Never quite touched the finish line, never got spirited enough to cope up.
A sigh of relief, a deep memory of belongingness, could, still, hold the essence
An old scarf, an embroidered one, only enough to hold on to the long, long lost one.
When in the course of human events, issues, and circumstances,
one comes in touch with words that fit the reality of the situation;
and when we do, such words are assigned to the individual to explain
to us and our loved ones what ails us and what recourse or remedy
should be employed and pursued.
For the present theme, two words, one of which is a non-word,
come to mind. The non-word was quickly set aside when I learned
that it was indeed, not a word. The non-word was 'Apartmentalization'
which only came to mind because it 'sounded' the part. Next came
another word, 'Departmentalization', because it also had the feel
and the harmony, but was not the theme under consideration.
It was simply an exercise, not in futility, but in comparitalization;
Oops, did I just create another non-word? Let's just table that
figment of my imagination.
The elongated word and theme before us is the seven-syllable word,
COMPARTMENTALIZATION. As a noun, it is the act or process of dividing
something into separate and isolated categories, sections, areas, or
compartments. As such, I found it most interesting and useful in the field
of psychology. Dictionary. Com describes it this way: Psychology. the process
of mentally separating or setting aside one’s incompatible or negative emotions, beliefs, or behaviors: Coping with trauma entails psychological defenses—such as denial or emotional compartmentalization—that are inherently isolating. Wow! There is absolutely nothing figmental about this word.
This, in my view, best demonstrates the theme. It best defines both what I have observed in others and what I have personally experienced in my own life. Indeed, it is one of those 'survival mechanisms' that God has instilled in the human psyche. And whether it's halftime, timeout, or 7th-inning stretches, we learn to move ahead when we learn to 'label it' for a 're-visit' and 'set it aside', or to 'table it'. I can't imagine pants without pockets or a car without
a glove compartment. COMPARTMENTALIZATION. Don't leave home without it.
No other treasures have I to leave behind but this: A single noun and a single verb - Love!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
22 May 2016
* This is my ONE THOUSAND post and for that, I would like to thank all those of you who have helped and inspired me to reach that mark for it is certain that without your support it would have been impossible!
I also thank PoetrySoup for giving me the opportunity to post my writing!
Most of all, I humbly thank our GREAT POET of ALL, our LORD, for giving me health and allowing me some understanding for to comprehend HIS world in an very small degree!
Guilt
vile, caustic
tainting, degrading, crushing
stain, burden, gift, merit
purifying, uplifting, liberating
undeserved, salvic
Grace
Eileen Manassian Ghali
PS...the adjective salvic comes from the noun salve, an anointment used to clear eye infections. I'm not sure if the word exists, but in my mind, I understand it to mean something that clears the vision and lets you see what truly matters, as is mentioned in the book of Revelation. The Laodiceans needed eye salve to clear their vision. Grace does that for us.
Romans 5: 20- "But where sin increased, grace increased all the more."