Long Ounce Poems
Long Ounce Poems. Below are the most popular long Ounce by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ounce poems by poem length and keyword.
What I'd like to give you, is an ounce of my perfume
Scented with smiles, laughter and inspirational love
What I’d like to give you, is a feeling of joy abloom
Pouring from the heart like a whisper from up above
What I’d like to give you, is a miracle we’ll presume
Compassionate promises that you can’t get rid of
What I’d like to give you, is an ounce of my perfume
Fragrant with light in hues of kindness, faith, grace
What I’d like to give you, is lasting praise to resume
Falling around your soul in the very warmest embrace
What I’d like to give you, is a pause of every gloom
Filling your heart with dreams more alive than anyplace
What I’d like to give you, is an ounce of my perfume
Coloring your thoughts in hues of creativity and vision
What I’d like to give you, is pleasure you’d never assume
Marked by truth and wisdom to control every decision
What I’d like to give you, is assurance you won’t find doom
Wherever you go will be light and love, stirring provision
What I’d like to give you, is an ounce of my perfume
So that you can smell the fragrance of honest hope
What I’d like to give you, is gentleness to fill the room
Breathing out a pledge of elation to help you cope
What I’d like to give you, is the desire to consume
Elation that defies all thought in its beautiful scope
What I’d like to give you, is an ounce of my perfume
An aroma to remind you that you are loved so much
What I’d like to give you is a love that resists the tomb
Love that thrives and survives, grows with each touch
What I’d like to give you is a feeling that will loom
Forever alive on the inside, thrilling the heart as such
What I’d like to give you, is an ounce of my perfume
What I’d like to leave you, is a pearl from the soul
What I’d like to give you, is a lasting, jubilant plume
What I’d like to leave you, is love that makes you whole
What I’d like to give you, is memories you can exhume
What I’d like to leave you, is love from the heart you stole
I’m going to bring you home, to a love that will never roam
Bring Me Home Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
September 25, 2021
Attending a Greyhound Dog race
Blowing dust in my face
Placing a bet
Hoping no regret
The race was about to start
Soon it will be a race of determination as a depart
The gates will soon hound’s maneuver
It will be swift and quick
Chasing an electronic rabbit encouraging them on
Those Hound’s never catch
They are kicking up dust in the wind
The speed using their legs
Every ounce of endurance
The Hound’s going around bends with assurance
Mustering who is the winner to be
Keen eyes like an eagle and wise like an owl
The race will soon come to an end
The victor will be announced
The last stretch
The winner is “BOUNTY”
Best of the best
Champion in cheers
Won my bet
Right choice having no regret.
I’m just a lost boy in the streets of Los Angeles…I am upset because I don’t get life and the purpose of it…then, I noticed that I lived for my family, friends and the Lord,
Who looks after me from day in to night out…He forgives me for all of the decisions I’ve made that are horrible, confusing and absurd
I don’t mind what goes around comes back around these days
I have seen things that are unseen by others – I hear your silent okay’s
I work better when I am alone rather than with people who don’t feel an ounce of my pain and pleasure that I’ve felt on Earth…which is a sweet and salty allegory
You played me on repeat…I thought you would pause me and forget about me for hours on end, but you did the opposite and listened to my side of my bizarre story
My mind is as speedy as the mountain zephyrs on a flight or fight zone
My spirit is wandering out of remorseful vexation of being all alone
My soul is shaking like a leaf on the last day of autumn as I prepare to fall
To meet my demise at the end of the day, hoping you would understand
Where I stand in the name of love from above – slowly getting on the ball
My mind is like a sympathy symphony in the wilderness
My spirit is like the clouds of shrouds from above and below
My heart is as courageous and compassionate as the soldiers on the strange war arena
And you don’t hear the seconds tick on by these days–
In dire want of your thrust of confidence, so that I can give it my all without a flaw
The stitches in my unwavering heart is splitting me apart from dusk to dawn
You changed me for the better; believe me– I will be your shoulder to lean on
Inscribed in all of your inevitable invisibility and invincibility
Don’t give in to the give-up mentality and truly face your reality
Remember to give it your best shot
To untie yourself from life’s knot
I know I need to act my age through thick and thin
There’s still a lot of happiness in store to engage in
It is hard to set a good example by the look of things…but we are in good hands
When will you be done with your shady shenanigans? When will you rise above the world’s demands?
Maybe I could turn you around – what goes around comes back around
Are you on the road of paradise or are you still home-bound?
I'm giving up this crazy fight,
no ounce of strength is left;
each love I possessed
was such a waste:
my silliness stuck
in this tight chest!
Can the smile of Elise's eyes
break this darkness
that sets limits?
My ship flows
in a troubled, misty sea;
no moonlight,
no starlight
sends gleams!
No eyes stare at me, it's agony;
winds rise and push me away,
Elise's angry eyes turn aside,
her breath rises the highest tide.
Ah, this stranded captain
has lost her needed guide,
I'm totally blind:
rescue me, queen!
Is my sky brighter
than Elises's pretty eyes,
if what I own drifts far
from the hope that
compromises, leaving
more pain than doubt?
Smashing slashing gnashing storm at sea
Tossed the ships, sailors, Sammy, Elise and me.
We clung to the rudder and the wheel too
But she tossed us around like we weighed an ounce or two
Hold on! The first mate yelled to the skipper.
I can’t! He yelled, as the storm gave us a new ripper.
The skies opened up and poured hail on our heads.
Ocean was tossing and turning, storm needed to be fed.
I have never lived through a storm like this to date.
It was the most exciting experience of my life, so great!
I loved it totally when it did me little harm.
Better than a roller coaster in a loud rainstorm.
Wrapped in watchful consoling arms of a silver lingering moon
Helplessly succumbing to the blow of a treacherous harpoon
Salvaged every last remaining thought for his heavenly bonnie
Confiding in the stars up above the rest of their love story
Refusing to close his eyes that long to find her exquisite face
And prolong every unfading dream of her seductive embrace
Serenaded with a rhapsody softly playing in his ear
He feels the quietus approaching ever so gently, 'tis near
He releases his miserly grip with no ounce of self-pity
Sets free his soul into the fathomless calm of eternity
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on March 12, 2018 for contest FIVE WORDS, PLEASE sponsored by BROKEN WINGS - RANKED 3RD
'Bitter beggar woman'- that's your version of who I am?
I who nurture your children a decade, almost a score
Contorting my body to an unwanted twenty pounds more,
Cursing my fate for the diligent years of labour.
Looking back now with nothing left to savour
While you hang out with the guys, recreating your youth
While you salivate over the neighbour
in her long-legged stiletto shoes,
While you ‘make love' to me --
infrequently and out of duty --
am I not entitled to an ounce of your charity?
If I am a bitter beggar woman,
have you not seen me beg for your time?
I have no pension or bounties for my golden years;
All I have are my still-fresh tears.
I beg to be free
But freedom isn't even mine.
I am married- a curse I must bear
Like a crown of thorns on my head, my fate I wear.
There is no place left to hide.
I must embrace the void.
Marriage is a great institution, but I'm not ready for an institution.
A dame that knows the ropes isn't likely to get tied up.
Every woman knows, an ounce of performance is worth pounds of promises.
When I'm good, I'm very good. But when I'm bad I'm better.
Every man I meet wants to protect me. I can't figure out what from.
Save a boyfriend for a rainy day - and another, in case it doesn't rain.
Ten men waiting for me at the door? Send one of them home, I'm tired.
When they say boldly go where no man's gone before, they don't mean the kitchen.
Honey when I said I wanted something to hang my hat on I didn't mean THAT!
Any port in a storm is a good way to divorce court dearie!
Titillating is not an excuse for going to girlie bars.
Anyone got a buck I could sure use one?
Grab a piece of **** will you, it may be the last thing you ever grab.
**** retentive? You don't say!
Lip service now there's a concept.....
*Listen for the drum roll!
I can hardly wait reading welter of books...
courtesy Karen Windle a gift horse
ponied up late afternoon May18th, 2020
over roan nay bore lee volition.
Unbeknownst how she raised (cane),
and loudly wrapped outside the door
every ounce of her eighty plus pounds
slip of elderly lady petite bow legged
spry late 60's though older looking gal
argh – I expect unpleasant fallout after
piercing eyes unexpectedly discover
references made regarding aged waif,
who inexplicably signalled presence
in toto i.e. presents to comprehend, a
bounty, nah, not worth causing mutiny
nevertheless heave on lee delight hup
pea zing helter skelter discombobulated
alienation courtesy coronavirus lockdown
concomitantly venues to borrow books
puts serious and perilous bind aggravated
assault upon cerebral cortex regarding a
forced hiatus deprivation to binge read
reduced to peruse the daily toilet paper
no stimulation for imagination to indulge
magical mystery tour thwarted helter skelter
ye silently ask rather infer "what me bored?"
Despite severely circumscribed choices
whiling away hours, who knows lockdown
courtesy coronavirus (COVID-19)
warrants near indefinite closure accessing
literary material buzzfeeding noggin,
an egg gone eye zing torture rankles
healthy predilection to binge osmotically
passion for written word all the while
authors unbeknownst evoke quintessential
pleasant provocation dredging up
10,000 leagues below the jewel bedecked
cease son bewitched (Alder time) tremendous
metaphorical pristine hinterlands
Matthew Scott's vernacular semantic
hodgepodge orientation withered away
figurative gripes wrath and rail against
series of unfortunate events ala defiant
Lemony Snicket, when despair plummeted
to all time low, who should unwittingly
telepathically hear plaintive SOS sent
none other than intrepid Karen Windle,
who's mysteriously rapping announced
dog send appearance bore deliverance
(cue Banjos), where ecstasy didst delve
where still waters run deep, nevertheless
welcome respite when printed material
weekly magazines offered scant respite.
I tried squeezing my eyes countless times,
But even up to date when l close them, folded scenes release their leash on me,
How could l even start explaining because we didn’t even do mammie and daddy,
Because mammie was only a child and daddy was an old hag,
I tried covering parts of my body with my tiny hands,
With fear written all over my face,
Not even a word could come out of my mouth,
All that could come out were whispers, mumbles,
He touched my body like he was touching piano keys,
But to me the keys were only cranking and making noise,
He kept on pressing me on the bathroom tub,
He started pounding and pounding and pounding and pounding,
As blurry as my vision was,
I could still hear screams, from screams to moans, from moans to groans,
l could feel his skin inside me, with which every bang came with pain instead of pleasure,
He became my body’s assassinate,
Not only did he take my innocence, he broke me,
And now l hate me,,
I could picture his face smirking his face,
Without any ounce of guilt,
Am filled with so many “if’s” ,
Only if l could turn back hands of time,
Only if rivers could go reverse,
Only if daddy had a conscience,
But daddy why?................