Long One word Poems
Long One word Poems. Below are the most popular long One word by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long One word poems by poem length and keyword.
He was a lonely man
She found him through his mother, her boss.
He is adorable, his mom had told her.
Sweet, loving, caring, a real gentleman.
Mommy forgot to mention he was an incessant talker.
They went out on a date.
His mouth opened and he never paused for breath.
He talked from the minute he picked her up until he released her.
She ran to her house, wondering how he had not noticed
That she had not said one word in three hours.
There was never a pause.
Never a break; he did not stop talking even while eating.
Mommy told her at work the next day the date was a success.
I think he’s thinking about a long term relationship with you.
She discovered they were planning a wedding with her as bride.
That’s when she left her job with no forwarding address.
B-52: a city on its own.
You mess with us, we’ve got technology.
I loved it when we flew into the zone:
as Ernie said, “We’ll kill ’em till they’re free.”
My job? To watch the black cascade of death
and myriad explosions in the woods:
Louisiana lilt – “You hold your breath,”
that’s Ernie’s voice – “delivering the goods!”
The pretty serpentine of falling bombs
that seemed to slither through the virgin air
distracted me from pilot intercoms,
and radar monitors’ unblinking glare.
We didn’t think – I only speak for me –
you’d have to ask my buddies on the crew,
if any made it out – of those VC,
or what our “dirty chemicals” might do
to people down below. We went along
with what they told us, Audie Murphy-like.
Neil Armstrong was, to us, just one word – “strong”.
And dinks and gooks could go and take a hike.
That lunar surface. Nothing down there moved.
“I guess they won’t be planting no more rice,”
- that’s Ernie. Our sophistication proved,
we sang the Sound of Music (Edelweiss).
By accident, I saw a TV Show
last week, some fancy name, “Unceasing Toil”,
about those peasants. Watching HBO
is not my thing. It said we wrecked their soil
and killed their trees. Who, me? I don’t know squat.
The gorgeous nebula when napalm bursts
is fun from up on high. I’ll tell you what.
Phosphorus bombs beat all your Damien Hirsts.
The flashy, thunderous announcement
of your unexpected visit on the hot summer day
scares the crap out of the pigeons in the square -
cannoning them into the air -
but soon
they are diving and gliding as they discover
that you are cool as you high-heel dance
the tarry breath out of tired and dusty roads.
But in the grasses of the park the sudden deluge
causes workers to abandon their burdens, and confusedly
hasten to save nappied babies and the queendom from flooding.
The sun worshippers temporarily abandon their religion
as they unbow their heads for a sparkling new baptism
but as their fiery god reappears, you take flight,
confetting the air with your one-word calling card:
petrichor
He looked down at his father lying in the bed
For now he only mumbled, but one word was clearly said
Over and over and over again
For this father was different from most other men
With a rosary wrapped around his hand
Said in words you could rarely understand
Yet each and every single day of the week
You would hear "Jesus" even though he couldn't speak
Noticing more and more, the son sat by his side
Seeing his own fate in store, he bowed down his head and cried
For of Jesus the son was so unsure, though he never really tried
And just when things became a bore, his father looked up his eyes open wide
He said, "My dearest son you need not be afraid
For all along, it has been for you that I prayed
I have left you so much, so many worldly things
Now I leave you the peace that knowing Jesus brings"
One being powerful sexual desire.
In my human sexuality
I have a biological urge and, needs.
lechery
lecherousness
lasciviousness
LUST
A standard function that was taken out of context
Negative straits that dictate
Lust and Love
To ouch sinfully what's not yours
Though words the same
Only one-word controlling in sin
carnality
lewdness
licentiousness
Like looking at a woman/man
In admiration over in abundant
Displaying and urgent contrary desire for one's not yours
Being sinful and not pure
Love and Lust
Do not touch
Though words the same
Only one word God ordains
Love is deep affection with control
A fondness with Godly intent to future hold
Hopes of tenderness
warmth
intimacy
Love is attachment
endearment
devotion spiritually
Love is adoration
doting
idolization
Love is passion
adorn
desire
yearning
infatuation
Yet in this premise
There are order patients and trust
Love and lust
Share the same house
But only love is a home
adulation
compassion
Caring
solicitude
Love and Lust
Do not touch
Though words the same
Only one word God ordains
6/30/20
Love or Lust Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: D.W. Rodgers
"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life. The word is love."
Sophocles, Greek Poet
Love is a sparkling flame that guides and leads
Lending a divine spark to all our deeds
It is a force that enlivens the world
A spirit that makes hearts joyous and glad
In our firmament, love is a bright star
Its laser beams erase all gloom and scar
It dispels darkness and cleanses the dirt
Kindling the soul and healing every hurt
It's like a forceful tide that calms the storm
To make life joyful, love is the sole norm.
Love is the power that rules every heart
Imparts all our endeavors a kick start
It's a burning lamp that shall ever shine
With love’s strong thread, let every heart entwine
Neosoul and swing a melonic groove
is how she fashioned his music.
A term of endearment.
They styled the ollabartions
from words
one word supported
the other.
A circa when with the lyrics.
A rich bold bassey groove to some songs.
And a strict snap and turn dance ska for the lovers of dance..
when the whoomps and the strings intermingle
with the woodwinds and brasses.
People jump from there seats
and be shaking there a$ses type music. Inspiration from
the orcheastras eagerness to
show how great they are. Some people look
at inspiration from
not finding the right thing to say.
But these cats walk on hot tin roofs barefooted
knowing what to do.. Bluestone Funk!
Sweet romance with no broken heart type
movements.
grooving to the groove makes
love songs that much appealling. Smile at you defeat
knowing your time is coming. Wear that strap Champion and
shake your thang at your reseption.
You are the ones who gave me life, Mom, Dad
You are the ones who held my very first steps
You are the ones who lifted me each time I fell
You were my entire world
One word changed everything
A stranger's claim became the truth there
No one listened to my silence
No one saw my tears
I never ran away, not once
I never bowed my head to shame
I never pleaded to tell my truth
I simply let time be the answer
Even today, your place remains unchanged
My respect for you has never lessened
Yet the trust that was broken
Still lives inside my heart as a wound
May truth reach home one day
May the shadow of falsehood step aside
May I become your son once more
May love never lose — not ever
After a long interval...
When I heard your well-modulated calm voice
through the phone receiver saying "HELLO"
Just a moment~ I blinked my eyes to recognise
the tone..
As soon as I recollected our last argument,
I felt an ultimate shiver in my heart
it was as though electric power was circulating
throughout my body
Heart beat thumping very rapidly.,
Perspiring continuously ----
brooding over past..
guessing the reason for this sudden call..
without responding ,Still I stood.
Emotions kept progressing untill I heard that
One word " Sorry " from "you"...!!!
When I finally heard it ,
Was back to "normal zone" in my life..
24-7-2020
Note:STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (13),any form,
any theme Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Brian Strand.
My poems propagate themselves
stirring ingredients like adjectives and adverbs
as I slumber, gloriously out of my mindset
I give my muse permission to pay attention
for I am not in body. Astral travel is my go-to-dream place
Taking no credit, I ease awake often listening to Trixie, my muse
whispering the last line of a poem she has apparently been working on
several hours before I wake
Am I being humble? No. I am giving credit
to a part of my brain that does not travel with my soul at night
the part that regulates breathing insuring my fleshly continuance
This is why I readily give my muse Trixie
credit for a great deal of my poetry.
Sometimes I read it and I think “Who wrote that?”
Then one phrase or one word will click
and I know that I know nothing about my creativity or my dream state
But I do know that it is much easier to give Trixie credit
for I am not one who knows what she is about
flying by the seat of my soul most of the time.