Long Pacifier Poems

Long Pacifier Poems. Below are the most popular long Pacifier by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pacifier poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Aura of Rhymes


This one goes out to a special poetry souper.
Dedicated to an unknown rhythmic ink trooper.
Her poetic pen is mightier than any sword,
she cares not for attention nor craves to be adored.
Not a daily poster, but like petals her words grow,
releasing deep thoughts like tranquil rivers flow.
Pouring out pain, portraying a life full of commotion,
she's never afraid to reveal deep repressed emotion.
Nonchantly, composing sonnets, prose and monorhymes.
A 'free verse' soul with a pure gift, ahead of the times.
Sometimes her humour can lead to hysterics.
Other times her words sing like melodic song lyrics.
From undefined uncertainties to unseen and unheard,
they're relatable verses, reflected through sentiments stirred.
Elegant as a redolent rose with that Midas touch.
Her art is like a masterpiece that needs no retouch.
Needs not hide behind metaphors to create her poetry.
Hails from an island of sapphire skies and turquoise sea.
I know her journey has faced a mountain of adversity
and living among devious souls has caused controversy.
Despite the darkness, she glows like a lantern at night.
In times of trouble, always finds the willpower to write.
When torment arrives, stabbing my heart with spears,
she's always there to ensure my mind's not full of fears.
A honest heart with the modest grace of a pacifier.
Has formed a legacy of an unassuming versifier.
Like a peacock spreading beauty - flamboyantly.
For me, the Aura of Rhymes is poetic royalty.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Thinking about Nevermind!

Thinking about Nevermind!

Skinny dipping soaked in bleach, albino by design 
Eyes burning, -Something in the way- future gives a sign
No pacifier needed, when remuneration’s on the line 
Keep calm it’s just rehearsal, will sink lower another time 

Born too soon, umbilical’s frayed by a toothless bite
Lure instills urge to swim, bypassing baptismal rite
-Come as you are- take a breath, be sure to stay airtight 
Nevermind the grunge, it’s less dirty with a soul of white

Zero in on bait, the watermark hides a sell by date
Perhaps-stay away- not much change at going rate 
Don’t lose sight of legal tender, it won’t always sate
Take a breather, rest assured, if lungs don’t reinflate 

Swimming in circles chasing what is never truly ours
Set in ripples, a reflection of mankind’s weakest hour ?
The dollar breaks, revealing depths we’ve yet to scour
In the murk, no god we trust, just a bill we all empower
Form: Ekphrasis

Running With the Devil

Some have chosen this path but many don't even know it
They've been taken for a bath and didn't even put up a fit
He is so much smarter than you are, knows you like a book
You're already this far and haven't even taken a second look

He knows your every desire, you, so unprotected for the taking 
As with a baby's pacifier he knows exactly Who you're forsaken
And now having you so preoccupied tied tightly against his web
You can only see his side seeming so natural just as things ebb

Trust me you're certainly not his first and you won't be his last
But for your soul he does thirst, upon you every trick he cast
You have but One Way out yet he always plays with your fear
Now that you are so filled with doubt he can see you so clear

Alone this fight you will not win, that is why he keeps you away
Telling you of all your sin that you're not good enough to pray
But it's all just a big lie but I see clearly that it's works so well
For he barely has to try and the whole family is headed to hell

Job 1:7	  |
And the LORD said unto Satan, Whence comest thou?
Then Satan answered the LORD, and said,
From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Grief

Grief
Trauma and loss, a child has died
That never goes away …don't even try
It's in every room,every breath,every step you take
When Your asleep and when your awake
Sometimes it is sneaky
It will hide behind doors
Or inside old boxes you never opened before
A smell of formula still clings to his shirt
An old pacifier covered in dust and in dirt
Griefs’ favorite place to hide and surprise?
when you go to bed and just close your eyes
His face will appear,the smile he wore
For just a few weeks,a few weeks before
Or in dreams he cries and you look and listen but he's never there… you just missed him.
It's in your husband's face,the look in his eye, when you believe it's your fault he died
Never spoken out loud or even whispered but you see in their eyes,such guilt that look stirs
Those days are misty… like fog over the lake
It hides in there too just waiting to break
For it blows the fog away when you least expect it  and pieces are revealed, bit by bit…it's cruel and its vicious this grief and this pain
And I'll never live a day without it again.
Form:

Trapeze People

Trapeze artists wear two condoms at a time
When performing at great heights
You can never have too much protection
Jumping on thin lines from way up high
Flying in all directions with blindfolds on

Smoke cigarettes but don't play with matches
Leave dangerous acts to the professionals
Lead metal wings add to the attraction
Gravity is such a wondrous thing

Concrete nets are used to save on cost
The show must go on and so must they
The ground is calling 
The crowds applauding
The baby is screaming so shut it up
Someone stuff a pacifier in its mouth   

Trapeze people are fun to watch
Their feet never touch the ground
Thin lines between reality are stretched
God bless them everyone
When they come down


Premium Member First Calling Of Nature

Write Eleven Beautiful Lines Poetry Contest
Constance La France

"A rush of excitement fills the air as their maiden voyage comes to a climax."
By author

Up in the sky, baby seagulls leave the crib
Taking virgin wings to the blue skies and puffs of clouds
The siblings' baby steps come without a rattle 
Only a blanket of wind at their backs
As they glide from their playbox in search of silver
Below, they see their mother lode
A pacifier, a fishermen's boat netting jumping sardines
Together, the seagulls fall from their highchair
And dive towards their food chain
That they'll hang on their dinner table with all the silverware
With their catches, the seagulls return home with their calling

Premium Member Sussing Out My Special Place

crowded, cornered —
   i suss out my special place.

tossing, turning,
   dendrites burning

the insides of my eyes.
   posit the tables

chairs, arrangement
   of girls and boys.

the chatter of calypso sticks,
   pages — like wings exhausting.

the glaring windows behind me,
in front of me, reflections

bursting at the seams.
   hardly a cool spot on

the woven carpet. crisscrossed
   late Spring legs, disconnected

eyes wandering.
lazy, cramped, braille-fingers

pulling at pacifier, gathering glue sticks,
   scattering cheerios

shaking them like confetti all around.
   anticipation, participation,

ultimate undulation of harmonious music.
   beautiful skin - small, smaller, smallest.

smile crescendo, even tears that grip
   the storytime rug, not prepared

to disembark the flooded ark.
   the lingering final moments

of the chosen eight
   ruddy faces, the chosen few,

apologetic —

   lost in their favorite time
with kith and kin.

   dramatic lighting, undulating of leafy green
and xanthous sun — i inhale

and exhale with oxyrhynchus-oxygen.
   all the whirling, twirling stars replenish
the universe. soul-lights in my night sky

behind my pillowed-eyes, sleep
   is peaceful.

a snowy-dove lands, satisfied
   by the lay of the land.

6/12/2019

oxyrhynchus hymn - invokes silence, a cosmic stillness

kith and kin - family and friends

Chosen eight - like those on Noah’s ark

dove - left Noah’s ark for good when it found land after the flood

soul-lights - the satisfied storytime kids

Premium Member Towers In the Mist

The towers are gone, but the ash and blood still whirl around...
Gone but not forgotten is our mantra...
Our pacifier
Our breath for the next war.

They want to build a mosque in the shadow of our horror.
They say its innocent-a friendly gesture well intended.
A brick-and-mortar center for religion- understanding and tolerance.
But history suggests that they build over sites of conquest.

I say let them build.
The winds of wisdom and truth 
will blow the sands off true intention.
I say let them build.
Let them taste our ash, manna, and brother karma
Over the hallowed ground of:
               freedom of 
                  speech
                   religion
                  Twin towers 
                  that 
                  can 
                  never 
                    be 
                   brought 
                    down.
                    Never 
                    gone
                    never 
                    forgotten
                      the 
                    golden 
                     chord 
                       of 
                       our very
                    existence.
                    Freedoms 
                         of 
                      infinite 
                       purity.
Form: Didactic

Life With Agrophobia

So agrophobia,
A most ridiculous phobia,
Illogical impractical and so unreasonable, 
The symptoms completely inconceivable,
A fear so irrational like a fear of ones shadow,
Although sciophobia is the fear of ones shadow, 
Both more ridiculous than the other what a phobia,
Plagued by a confinement of my mind agrophobia
Agrophobia a fear of leaving my home alone,
I seemed to have lost my mind and backbone,
The very thought of one step outside my front door,
To even consider confuses me to my core,
The fear is so hardcore its impossible to ignore,
Sweating, perspiring, hyperventilating at the open door, Theres a world outside I'm dying to Theres a world out there I want to see and explore,
For god sake I cant even pop round next door, 
I have lost the vigour of my mind,
I'm a prisoner held by an intangible fear I'm confined,
My four walls a cozy comforter my pacifier,
A shelter from the danger being in the line of fire,
The verbal gun fire, the glares that seem to transpire,
Amplified whispers with direct pointed gestures 
The outdoors a magnified paranoid panoramic picture,
Inclusive of the anxiety of potential social failure, 
All to consider if I make it outside the safety of my bunker, 
This is just another day in my world of agrophobia.
© Sarah Cope  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Lookie Loo

Within the metal, gnarled and charred
lay smoldering remnants of your car
the sign that screamed the traffic deaths
refrained from adding yours just yet

As traffic trickled to one lane
us Lookie-loos just couldn’t refrain
and all of us including me
couldn’t help but view this tragedy

The tire marks along the track
of concrete meant to keep you back
painted pictures of the scene
in smears of blood and gasoline

Through twisted metal, broken glass
how could one survive this crash?
It took a while to cut you out
several items strewn about;

pacifier, diaper pack
a little car seat in the back
baby bottle, beer cans too
I wonder what became of you?
© Gayle Rodd  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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