Long Ooze out Poems
Long Ooze out Poems. Below are the most popular long Ooze out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ooze out poems by poem length and keyword.
Some of us are secretive at first. We hide our poetry’s soul self,
gently letting her peep out; sometimes regretting it immediately.
Fearful of critiques from people who do not understand that poetry
is something we are compelled and born to do with our feelings.
Your diary entries may form themselves into goodness or badness
before you realize your calling as a poet.
Truths shockingly ooze out, surprising you.
Feelings creep out onto a page, in loud angry letters,
or romantic feelings daintily brush onto a crisp lined page
in the form of sweetness and light.
You are a word player, because you cannot
stop this obsession, but it does not define you.
This poetry gig is but a glimmer of a glimpse of yourself.
You might be a caregiver, or a wonderful friend.
People who count on your smile every day may not realize
you have a love affair with words, and an obsession to write them.
We are each a unique jewel, mined from God’s mind.
Poetry may initiate a whisper of a tiny facet of ourselves,
but our secrets are safe. We not merely poets. We are lovers
of life, and words. Most importantly, we remain gloriously hidden
and unknown to most.
Written 12-20-18 Contest: You Are Not Defined by Poetry
Sponsor: John Hamilton
"Join hands to sweep clean of all dirt and preserve the pristine beauty of Nature to enhance the quality of living. If not, fear her lashing us black and blue"
-by poet
Nature, you are God’s lovely creation,
Dressed in grandeur, decked in regal beauty
You give us much scope for recreation,
Preserving your grace becomes our duty
Poets chant and sing in honor of you,
Sages withdraw to your silence serene,
Beasts and birds have found you as their sweet home,
Men find their sustenance and thrive on you,
Dales and hills – add to your bright sheen
The sky with its stars form your golden dome
Dark forests and running brooks lend you charm,
Deep Ravines spell your profound mystery.
It’s our duty to save you from all harm
Sometimes you baffle with your trickery
Always kind you are, yet some brutish men,
Dismally assault you, they maim and mar,
They suck your life sap – they leave you dry,
They keep on committing sin after sin
Your beautiful frame, to pieces they tear
With their selfish acts, badly mortify
You were once so temptingly beautiful
You could amaze and take our breath away
Looked so elegant, lovely and graceful
In scenic beauty, you could proudly sway
You were Princess of royal lineage
Been decked in brilliantly colorful shade
But your thankless children carelessly spread
Toxic fumes, carbon and dirty garbage
And all your wealth they callously invade
They will ooze out your blood and cast you dead!
May.4.2022
Form O-Ode- New Poems Poetry Contest
Topic... Nature
Syllable Count-10 per line
Sponsor- Constance La France
I nearly took my life today,
No knife or rope or gun,
Instead, the weapon was the truth,
The bleeding has begun,
It needs to ooze out all my pores,
Before first signs of healing,
And sting from disappointment,
Of a life without much feeling,
It wasn't always like this,
You flourished for a while,
Until your id and ego,
Were fueled with your beguile,
You only meant to honor,
The gifts you gleaned from life,
But, when choices became harder,
You bailed and turned to strife,
Pain was so much easier,
To inflict and then possess,
No matter who the person,
Or what the instance did suggest,
No pain, no gain, some do say,
But with positive intentions,
Not for wicked martyrs,
Doing things we should not mention,
I watch the blood, it's flowing now,
It makes me strong and weak,
It shouts at me to get up,
And find a life to seek,
Not something blue and pearly,
Just some quality existence,
Which will appear like magic,
With solid, pure persistence,
As for others, as they watch you,
To see coagulation,
The only thing important,
Is your own self-jubilation,
If they decide to follow,
You'll know you're headed west,
Because the honest you,
Is the one they like the best.
(4/15/98)
The most honest, virginal, understood truths
Are given to us by the breath of God, or Holy Spirit
Validation comes in the form of peace and joy
When we are following the path He set out for us
Enthusiasm bounces out of us in an effervescent way
Our aura is pink, and we are glowing with wonderment.
Others feel us coming, and want to join in.
They understand that we are in touch with something surreal.
Honesty and integrity ooze out of us when we live our truth.
I glean my own truth through prayer and meditation.
Validity comes in two forms for me. Hair rising on my neck.
And an inner knowing without knowing how I know.
I feel these attachments to my chakra are from God’s messengers.
Angels have been watching over me my entire life.
I feel they help my soul celebrate when we are on His path.'
Our Truth Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Date May 2 2022
Cardinal, a bird of all seasons was seen flying
in a cloak of feathers in flaming red
and a small crest upon his head.
He looked an enchanting sight,
in the blue panorama of the sky
amid curling clouds and blurring mist.
As he soared, he was piping joyful melodies
Suddenly he swooped down, into my little garden,
where exotic flowers ooze out a rare fragrance,
where I stood unseen inebriated, under the tiara of blossoms.
The cardinal without second thoughts
alighted on a tall growing rose bush
where a red rose stood smiling, awashed in morning dew.
Between them, there was a hushed whisper
Is it the red color common in both
that conjoined them in love all at once?
With wind’s exciting whips and sunbeams’ sudden slips,
I saw him kissing hard upon her dewy lips.
In embarrassment, other flowers
turned their demure faces away!
Jan.8.2023
The Cardinal and the Rose Poetry Contest
Sponsor- craig cornish
Friday is the day to let out your hair
To unleash your freak, to dance without care
Friday is the day to look forward to five
To unbraid your mind, to increase your “alive”.
Friday is the day to dance in the street
To laugh with your friends, to be your best freak
Friday is the day to make yourself into a whirling treat.
To be yourself totally, to unleash your adventurous streak.
Friday, Friday, Friday, Friday, why can’t you be every day my friend?
The joy would ooze out of us, it might overtake us and never end.
But then would we love it as much as we do right now?
Get out of my way, and I will show you how….
To make every day feel like a tiny bit of Friday.
It is easy to do. Just follow your heart and play.
“Fear not the legendary vampires, but dread the vampires living among us, thirsting for blood!” ~ By Poet
Vampires sleep by the day and fly by night.
They are afraid to come out in to light.
They feed on human blood.
Their lips are scarlet red.
Their flaming eyes are luminously bright.
Vampires dance in the pale glow of moonlight.
Return to their graves before break of light.
They cause such severe dread.
They are souls of the dead.
Ooze out blood and leave the victim to blight.
April.21. 2023
Writing Challenge ‘V’ words Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
She was a lamp of light unto me:
The light was a guiding star,
Full of love and affection.
I dwelled in the warmth of the light.
She fed me and I grew with her thoughts,
She sowed the seed of virtues in me
And watered it day in and day out.
She taught me knowledge and wisdom.
The light shone in me and darkness scared to touch me.
I crossed rugged roads, yet she was beside me;
Yet He is ever with me carrying in His Arms.
She was my teacher of simplicity:
I grew simple; reared modest; nurtured meek,
She taught me the prayer of silence,
And in silence I learnt patience.
Thorns would prick me; yet she treated me,
She would never let the blood ooze out,
And I would watch her tears rolling down her cheeks,
And I knew she wept for my pain.
We have been walking on the path of virtues
Holding our hands together in the bond of love.
FORLORN! Her hands fell down, and I’m shaken:
I perceived the pallor on her white face,
It seemed it wept for me in silence,
And I knew even in silence she can’t forget me.
The Lord hath taken the lamp from me;
Yet the light of the lamp dwells in me.
I wept at her motionless corpse,
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
But could she know I had wept for her departure?
But I had known she wept for my pain
When thorns had pricked me in her presence.
The lamp is no more with me;
Yet the Lord shines in me thro’ my parents.
She was a lamp of light unto me,
The light was a guiding star
Full of love and affection.
The meandering Universe or tightly packed with no edges at all
The Universe huge and pulsing enough to give seed to the life forms is packed rock into a ball
The Universe did it know all along about Love?
Hey what is life anyway? Some say they know from messages above, within— without
Some say they know by analysis, some philosophers, mystics, priests, all claim they have the key to the riddle-- What do they know?
I have voyaged with Plato, and Aristotle feeling the firm ground beneath me slipping away,
I mourned the Passion, I have kneeled for Allah, Vishnu, Shiva, Yahweh, RA, Amun-Ra, Odin, and I have imbibed the mystic, elevating into a fugue
Hawkins, Sagan, Einstein have wisely spoken, I speak their words, “Where did God hide those confounded data?”
I have visited the land where law of religions becomes the external garb of man, atoms flowing rapidly energetically all from cloth to flesh and back again--
In those black holes I have held hands with Sagan, De Grasse
In search of other worldly terrestrial beings, and have floated into eternity embracing Hawkings into beauteous things— with water at the center of it all…
Plunged into darkness, and never found those dice,
What can I say, I am only man.
We have tried for millenniums to answer the puzzling riddles, what is the ‘mystery of inequity’, perchance it is of no substance at all, or is split asunder in the vital soul of man himself some slippery essence waiting to ooze out into the atmosphere,
The riddles are great, and the universe holds them somewhere in the abyss, of man blackest recesses perchance— Maybe there is no mystery at all… “Philosophy is a smile on a dog”
Some say they know by analysis, some Philosophers, mystics, Scientists, all claim they have the key to the riddle…What do they know?
In the desperate search of God we have despised our ways, Men have become haters of Love. I saw the birth of the humanist once upon a page-- Petrarch my father
He held the keys jangling with a smirk and rage…
Man disappoints man…
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts”. Rachel Carson
Mother Earth! In love and awe, we salute you!
Though you are just a speck in this vast universe
There is no other planet to match you in grace
Explorations to outer space have been there since long
But so far, no habitat like yours is found anywhere.
Dear Earth, we see you and call you as our Home.
You have birthed and nurtured countless generations.
You are decked in sprawling vistas, prairies and gardens.
Dressed in green, you soothe our eyes and ease our pain.
In you, there are running brooks and quiet creeks,
Snow-capped mountains with jagged peaks,
Sleeping valleys and towering hillocks,
Sunny beaches, dense woods, canyons and plains.
Wherever we gaze, whatever places we tread
We see a world of beauty and wonder with mysterious live forms
Oceans girdling you are home to numerous marine creatures
Deep in the forest’s shady realm, beasts roam and birds’ twitter
Fawns play, rabbits hop and squirrels dart up and down the trees.
If we roam through the landscape, glimmering with dew,
Listen to the brooklet's susurrus murmur,
Watch the starry eyed flowers with bees humming around,
Our ailing hearts will be soothed and stimulated.
If we contemplate on the beauty of the earth,
We will surely find great reserve of strength to last a life time.
Though Mother Earth provides everything we need
In us is a tendency to exploit and drain her,
Polluting and disrobing her, leaving her so vulnerable,
With carbon emissions and toxic chemicals,
Creating holes in her protective ozone layer.
Thoroughly deprived of clean air and crystalline waters,
She is left sterile, barren and ugly, so unlivable.
Oh, Mother Earth,
Benevolent thou art, still ever malevolent men,
We assault you and we maim and mar,
We suck the life sap – we leave you dry,
We ooze out the blood and cast you dead.
Oh! Pardon us!! ‘Spare your rod’
Lash not – we fall at your feet!