Long Pamper Poems

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


Premium Member Fancy Stress - Collaboration With the Amazing Nina Parmenter

There’s a party tonight so I bouffe up my hair
Pamper and powder my sweet derrière,
Arrive at the door, all done up to impress.....
Oh man, I forgot! Invite said “fancy dress”!

Pete and Sue are here, seems their theme’s ‘Tarts and Vicars’,
Sue’s skirt’s microscopic! Look at her tiny knickers! 
Pete’s in a nun’s habit; the image is scary,
I’ve not seen a nun with a chin that’s THAT hairy!

And there’s Spider-Man! (although I’m perfectly certain,
His cape is made out of his living room curtain),
His curve-hugging costume’s quite “cosy” in size,
I think our friend Spidey gobbled too many flies!

In the corner, a lady has come as Snow White,
Gee, her bosoms are out there, her corset’s so tight,
They look like two bald heads squeezed into a sack,
Glad my hubby’s not here - he’d have a heart attack!

In the hallway, a robot is looking well-oiled -
Her costume’s made out of three rolls of tin foil,
She looks more like a turkey at Christmas, so later,
I really hope no one is tempted to baste her!

By the buffet, Fred Flintstone is looking contrite,
I think he and Wilma are having a fight, 
Behaving all “caveman” has got Fred in trouble -
He showed his big man-club to poor Betty Rubble!

There’s a massive man-baby dressed just in a nappy,
The “milk” in his bottle has made him quite happy,
He’s shaking his tooshie and sucking his dummy,
And asking a lady, “can I call you Mummy?”

On the sofa is Princess Fiona from Shrek,
Blimey, Count Dracula’s nibbling her neck,
I avert my eyes to avoid his rising passion,
In walks his wife, and his face turns quite ashen.
 
His irate wife’s dressed up as pop singer Cher,
In her see through outfit she looks almost bare,
Then she lays into Drac just like Rocky Balboa -
She’s drunk as I skunk, I’m relieved I don’t know her!

Suddenly, Batman bursts through the door,
In his skintight costume - my jaw hits the floor!
He’s so muscular - bulges in all the right places,
If I play my cards right, could be me he embraces!

Well sadly I haven’t a costume of course,
Til I spot a young chappie dressed up as a horse,
I leap on his back - I’m a great improviser -
Strip off and shout “Hey I’m Lady Godiva!”

Collaboration between Jan Allison and the amazing Nina Parmenter

3/17/18
Form: Rhyme


How To Escape Depression For P D

Pretty pink pansies soothe searing souls; seek them; take walks.
Offerings of friendship to another can distract depressive thoughts; open your heart.
Evoking visions of amusing moments, absorb melancholy; envision funny times.
Talk about something else, like tantalizing taste buds, instead of tumbling into misery.
 
Depression debilitates, destroys, discourages, and devours; design a pleasure plan. 
Escape the misery; elevate merriment with music; sing and dance.
Serenity takes practice; so get started; find a serene spot in a garden; watch for sparkles.
Take time to pamper yourself; go to the spa or read a good book; relish positives. 
Relax at home or sit in a mall and watch the world go by; DO NOT SHOP! 
Overspending can lead to deeper depression; develop internal joys one thought at a time.
Yesterday is gone.  So, forget about it.  Today is a new day; make a fresh start.
Everything has a time and a season; trusting in God can help with anticipation anxiety.
Remember to grow and learn from every life experience both positive and negative.

After all, we are privileged to be on Earth where we can learn and grow, each day.
Never give up on yourself, no matter what; forgive yourself for mistakes; stay strong.
Determine to succeed at gladness; replace sad thoughts with happy ones…intentionally.

Demons can creep into one’s life; be sure to replace them with Heavenly hosts; 
Enrich your soul with scripture study and silent prayers; find fellowship.
“Pretty is as pretty does,” was a common saying back in the day; see your prettiness.
Remember that raindrops refresh all living things; let some fall on your face.
Exuberantly laugh as the wetness drips onto your tongue; breathe deeply, slowly.
Sunshine follows the rain both in nature and in life.  Remember, depression will pass.
Seek your own path; one that holds your happiness, stay on that path, strongly.
Individual self-worth is a way of thinking; pick positive worthy people for friends.
Overcome depression one day at a time, one thought at a time, effervescently.
Now is the time to embark on your happy future, feel better soon…lovingly.

December 9, 2014

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Fighting Depression (poems for PD) 
Sponsor	Shadow Hamilton
Form: Acrostic

Positions: Part Three

Positions: Part Three
Arabic Poem by: Bushra Al-Bustani
Translated into English by:
Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk)
================

         (5)
The Position of Grief
 -----------------------

Was the sky blue in any day?
 I have never seen it clear! 
 Sine the time of the Mongols to the Amiriya** day
And from the Amiriya day to the muddy days of the plot.

The two rivers are pouring from your fingertips, and I am thirsty
 There or here
 There is no difference 
 Since the globe is a ball for the blind to play with
 Forgetting that Earth is the inheritance willed to us
 The night is dark, as the stars have fallen in my blood.  
 
Since you departed, 
Moaning of the words has been obscuring the light from my paper
And digging a cave for my pleasure in the trunks of trees
 
Since you departed, 
The night has turned into a silent old man
Falling asleep on his cane
And I am withering as a wish did not come true 
As I court the tears of my waiting. 

Since you departed, 
Your voice has become an aching child in my blood, 
A burning flute
And a never drying tear drop in my wound.
 
Since you departed, 
My coffee cup has been extinguished
And two seats have fallen of the terraces of the stars.

Since you departed, 
The water turned yellow
And the fingertips of words have been dry.
In the last watch of sadness, I hear your footsteps
And see shadows walk away

The tavern keeper Sidori said:
“Pamper the boy who holds your hand!”
I replied:
“But they kidnapped the boy
Taking his hand away from mine...
A history of colors was sparkling in his eyes
And writing canceling writing
Amidst the ordeal whispers were faltering
But they may not dig graves for his heart and mine
As long as there are veins for water in the sand of my soul
And lamps that refuse extinction in the erased script.”  

====================
Translated by: Em. Prof. Inaam Al-Hashimi
USA
*Bushara Al-Bustani is a poet from Iraq
** Al_Amiriyah refers to a shelter used by civilians during the Iraq-Iran war in the Amiriyah neighberhood in Baghdad.  It was bombed by the USA Airfirce  with two lazer-guided "Smart Bombs" on February 1, 1991 where more than four hundred civilians mostly women and children were killed and a thousand were injured.

My Lady Lotus

(Bracketed words are not to be included in poem for they are only meant to bring home the phrase or word used)

From the eternal cake of her mother
There lies the eternal seed among mud;
Heaven born, a one mud cradled pamper.
Without love, light and care, how would you lug?
And to chase that you are a heaven born,
To tell beauty is chaste as was just sworn.

Her mud milk and cold water make her strong.
Dim infancy casts her spirit to light;
Must reach ken of patience as day's night's long.
Amongst dark, cold ,drown childhood her root's white.
And to straight this vile stage to once Eden,
To cue all that peace roofs each dreamt heaven

The anglers and fishes play hide and seek.
The gloom bait bathes in charm and fishes hunt.
All at once are they when she is in meek.
The joy they (fishes) had is what anglers must fond.
And so states untimely jolly is all worst,
To chirp midnight ends not the night to last.

She is soft, but not for breezy water
To make her quiver at a little breeze.
But for joy-zealers (fishes ,water), they ripple ever.
Only they settle when rude vase decrees
'Tis not you that stir but grow above them
And that love (love spirit of light ) make not live in mayhem.

And when morn steals the hearts, you wait your time.
Whilst bees jump for wine, you sleep for your morn.
You are a green pendant for clear sky to chime
That bell of dusty soil for rain or storm.
When convulsed gleaming crests lure your virgin,
You ball calm in air and tell what they mean.

Morning kisses sky when you kiss heaven.
With you, cloud, rain or mire boy is pageant.
Pious silk veils haze your diadem of golden,
Hides a wise pearl in your sea of delight
Divine smell of you - as you scented mud!
And charm with dust without any 'but'.

And when it is time for your loyal girls;
To seed this vile dust the voice you lived on,
At once you throw off your diadem and veils.
Without tears you face sky when they are gone
For you wot that dark mud made your Eden
And breeze could ne'er bear the base of heaven.

(A different perspective of HERO)
For the contest HERO dated : 20 Nov 2017
© Isor Chand  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Sang a Lullaby of Love

I cradled his head in my arms and sang him a lullaby,
     cradling the  m o m e n t,
cherishing every second more,
          then, when it was time . . . 
                    I placed him in his  f o r e v e r  coffin bed.

An odd bed for a little baby boy,
     his little head lay on a  b l u e  as the sky pillow,
he wore his new blue booties,
           an ivory christening gown,
and beside him a  b l u e  teddy bear,
                                  someone had placed there.

As I stood in the funeral home,
                I felt so  a l o n e  and hallow,
although many people surrounded me,
                               I was  l o s t  in thoughts . . . 
thinking of that empty baby room at home,
       there would be no babyhood,
  where, I would pamper, coddle and feed him,
                        no childhood fun, no youth or adulthood,
     no ripe old  a g e  for this boy.

No days or years to cherish him,
                 no beginning, just this sad end,
so, on the day of his funeral . . . 
             I sang him a  l u l l a b y  to last forever,
  and I handed him over to the Lord,
                     I whispered, Lord, cradle my boy in your arms,
until in your time, I can once more.

The cars followed the hearse in a long line,
                through the ornate cemetery gate,
and down the  w i n d i n g  roads with BENDING trees, 
                                        even the birds in the cemetery,
   stopped their  s o n g . . .
until at last, we reached the place of tears,
                                 standing there cradled by family l o v e ,
              all that could be heard, drifting,
was the lullaby,  I sang  . . . 

_____________________
June 29, 2016

Free Verse(lost love)

Submitted to the contest, Your Best Free Verse Love Poem,
sponsor, John Hamilton

Seventh Place
_______________________
Submitted to the contest, Free Verse About Love,
sponsor, Laura Loo

First Place
_______________________
Submitted to the contest, Free Verse,
sponsor, ?

NA


Attributes of Being Average

(alternately titled one me silly more till manufactured 
from go win addle American 
non refundable private parts) 

each set of twenty three chromosomes 
the basic biological building blocks
of life came out cervix 
when second hand of analog clocks 

barely and scarcely swept across dial,
wrought offspring appearance 
as a pier a docks
closely resembling a monkey 

perhaps...hmm...
maybe mother mated with a chimp 
assimilating chromosomal flox 
genetic combination brought about add hocks 

viz bouncing baby boy skinny and fair game 
as a pluperfect future target for jocks
when I took first gasp of air sputtered 
like an old engine that knocks,

now just easing into ma deuce score 
and xix year with hair reed locks 
twittering, snorting, rattling nonetheless 
became precious human dependent 

with mat chew anti body mox
see for father and mother 
to care despite expelling nox
shuss gas out derriere, which profuse flatulence 

natural immunization 
kept away infected kids with pox
nicknamed little buttock blaster 
now sits in a comfy chair and rocks

reminiscing about boyhood 
and a pooch named Socs
who told time applying faux paws vox
like ­tum make sounds resembling tick tocks

Nowadays every potential mom and dad 
disappointed unless offspring(s) feverish follow fad
decreeing qualified as gifted birth of lass or lad 
go wing great lengths to prod and push 
progeny until a genius to be had
rather tubby thankful and gratefully glad

regaling robust surprise 
packaged traits of yore 
inheriting genetics descended 
when early apes did de tour 

terrestrial virgin earth 
anatomically complete store 
reed awesomely astounding miracle from spore
sized fertilized ovum (healthy 
and sound baby boy or girl) hood roar 

if lionized, which feline bellow mew might mean 
change my dye ya pore
and pamper me sum more
gnome hatter wailing mama or papa ignore
thence nurturing baby pipes por favor
kinship knits omnipotent bond evermore
where tis instinctual to adore.

True Love

Thank God
         The sun is shining, somewhere
maybe i'd not be whining, were i only there
though here, rains wash over me, and i am chilled
thanks to Jesus, i live forever, here or there, live, or killed(hey, it rhymed!)

so am i cold and weary, taxed and bled
i only need to stop, and look ahead
in the direction of societies eventual correction
for a God, hard at work, in the Servants section

moving through, prompting, helping the good we do
my thanks to the Holy Trinity, and to you
seeing goodness revealed within the lives we lead
i am made aware that the world "has", and yet's in need

so i can look forward with eager awating
into the future with calm, anticipating
a moment, maybe today, or tomorrow
with no more feet of clay, or sorrow

when the goodness of God in man
will not be just a sign, or temporary plan
but merely a step, from okay for now, to a God"like",eternally
when we, who know Christ, will see

what we, alone, can never achieve
be "of", or "in", or even so much as believe...in...


.....True Love.......


we have no Love, such as "His", with which to compare
to be with God, in a real sense, to feel Him there
even in the vaguest way,to know that we are not alone
almost trips my circuit breaker, that my Maker would condone

to pay attention to me, a gnat, a mote
in the grand symphony of life, barely a note
still, 'tis i that Jesus loves, and you
and Him that i love, to feel, and to do

of His pleasure, as well as i can
which is downright embarrassing, being only a man
such love, that He would notice, or care for me at all
even listen, nevermind answer, when i call

such is True Love

as if we would indulge, or listen to a flea
to pamper, and coddle, and answer their every plea

all of them

to love them

really, we give ourselves far and away to much credit, most of the time, we really do

if you really knew God, you'd know what i'm talking about...

She Is Pregnant

She is pregnant.

Feeling a baby grow inside of her was the most magical time of her life
wondering what he or she will be like, knowing that one day  she would hold them in her hands is one of the greatest Joy a woman can ever experience.
Love, anticipation, anxiety … you’re just a melting pot of emotions right now.
She whispered to her husband, I will be a mother soon
The expression on her face shows she can't wait to love, care, pamper, tender, nurture and inspire the foetus in her uterus.
Everybody knows am pregnant even if they can't see, I only can feel it
I am pregnant with ideas
I am pregnant with purpose
I am pregnant with burning dreams
I am pregnant with great aspiration
I am pregnant to fulfill a divine mandate
I am pregnant to influence lives
I am pregnant to meet a need
I am pregnant for a better tomorrow
I am pregnant to feed the nations
I am pregnant to affect my generation
I am pregnant to live for you
I am pregnant to wipe tears
I am pregnant to inspire you
                       BUT
I can't denied along side am pregnant with fears, my limitation, frustration, intimidation that can perpetually abort what's inside of me
I kept asking the WHY, WHEN and HOW will all my longings come to manifest

Then I heared in a still Voice
 Trust in me with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding in all my ways am only permitted to acknowledge him and he shall direct my path

I heared again the vision is yet for an appointed time though it tarry it will surely come to pass

That gave me courage, determination and enthusiasms to press and never to give up
I know and i surely believe i can't die with my purpose living inside of me if I do then the world is at end.
Now that am still here, its either now or never.

Don't quit on your dreams you are closer to it today than you were yesterday.
© Ekoh Jones  Create an image from this poem.

Call of An Unborn Daughter To Dad

Call Of An Unborn Daughter To Dad

Dad I am your guiltless 
and innocent unborn daughter
who is anxious to step in your house
will you please give birth to your daughter

Will you be happy on my arrival
probably not, because the daughter is a curse
but I promise you that
I will never be the cause of your grief and sorrow
I want to enjoy my childhood 
in your lovely and caring arms and
look at the beaming rainbow in the horizon
but if you let me enter your gracious heart

Dad will you pamper me as much as my brother
the moon and the stars I do not want 
just wish to behold them
while shining in the moonlight night
Dad will my this dream come true

Holding your hand on the river bank
I also want to see 
the mischief of the colourful fish
I want to touch the stream of water 
Dad just let me step in your house

I also want to see the flowers 
blooming in the colorful spring
want to feel the rustle of the icy wind
want to hear the tingling of the leaves
Want to feel the weather chimes
I want to enjoy all this with my papa
only if you let me step in your house 

Peacock dancing in the monsoon
Cuckoo's melodious sound
chirping sparrow in the shade of banyan 
I want to enjoy everything with 
my loving, kind hearted and caring papa

Dad I promise you that
I will never disappoint you
nor let you ever humiliate 
never will I demand birthday gift nor
will I insist on Barbie Doll
one day you will surely feel pride
by giving birth to your unborn daughter
but if you open the doors
of your merciful heart for me

But Dad you also promise that 
you will not let this bud wither away
before it blossoms in your garden
I am passionate
I am excited 
I am anxious to bloom in your courtyard
Dad will you pamper your sweetheart angel
and tickle her rosy cheeks with tender fingers

(By Kishan Negi)

Perfect Girl:

My heart has gone on a wild frenzy.
Love makes you leave all the tensions behind.
It makes You enjoy and go crazy, it lives on.
In love, the heart becomes a beggar,
Heart & soul asks for the good will from others, it lives on,
Don't pamper the heart everyday,
Love has a happy impact, 
Start loving Yourself first.
You know everything about the world.
But You are unaware of Your own real love,
Take care of Yourself too.
Tear down the walls, make an outcry,
In the fun-filled love, You sleep and You awake,
She is doing as she desires and
She is not caring about how the world percieves it.
The snow glows white on the mountain tonight,
Not a footprint to be seen,
A kingdom of isolation,
And it looks like,
she is the queen.
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside,
Couldn't keep it in,
Heaven knows she tried,
Don't let them in,
Don't let them see,
Be the good girl you always have to be,
Conceal, don't feel,
Don't let them know,
Well, now they know,
It's funny how some distance,
Makes everything seem small.
And the fears that once controlled me,
Can't get to me at all.
I am one with the wind and sky,
You'll never see me cry.
Here I stand and here I'll stay,
Let the storm rage on.
My power flurries through the air into the ground,
My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around,
And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast,
I'm never going back,
The past is in the past,
And I'll rise like the break of dawn,
That perfect girl is gone.
Here I stand in the light of day,
Let the storm rage on.
The cold never bothered me anyway.
You are air, water and fire,
You are a betrayal, a donor and a stain.
Whatever You wish for, You become.
In my Heart,God pure love stays.
My God is never separated from me.
When I find myself, I find Him
By Miss Aliza Kashmala Kiran.
Form: Epic

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