Long Partnered Poems
Long Partnered Poems. Below are the most popular long Partnered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Partnered poems by poem length and keyword.
Throughout the nineteen-fifties, times were neat;
full, long flared skirts and bobby socks gals wore,
while rock and roll and doo-wop moved our feet
to music slow and fast on the dance floor.
Each Saturday, we'd all go to Hi-Y,
where classmates gathered to have fun and dance.
Most partnered with their special gal or guy-
that music of the fifties did entrance!
A Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On,
would move our bodies- arms and legs so fast.
But, with slow songs like, Love Me Tender- drawn
to dance real close with partners unsurpassed.
So simple were the times we spent back then,
that dancing, for teenagers, was the best
treat we looked forward to each weekend when
we could relax and rally, unsuppressed.
Only You, and Rock Around the Clock-
It's Only Make Believe, and Peggy Sue;
Don"t Be Cruel, My Prayer, and Jailhouse Rock-
these drew our feet to each dance rendezvous!
March 8, 2020
~2nd Place~
Contest: The Good Old Days
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Judged: 01/17/2021
~1st Place~
Contest: Strand Pick 4
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 04/08/2020
~2nd Place~
Contest: Dance With Me
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Judged: 04/07/2020
Song Credits in order of appearance:
A Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On -Little Richard
Love Me Tender -Elvis Presley
Only You -The Platters
Rock Around the Clock -Bill Haley & His Comets
It's Only Make Believe -Conway Twitty
Peggy Sue -Buddy Holly
Don't Be Cruel -Neil Diamond
My Prayer -The Platters
Jailhouse Rock -Elvis Presley
She rose from the table moving slowly to the sink. This was not her favorite time, too much time to think. Her body moved from memory now, the right bit of dish detergent, she must refill that bottle soon, moving the faucets to memorized positions, water streamed out on cue, precisely the right temperature, “hot to clean - not to scald”.
She and water worked well together, having partnered in so many chores; laundry, toilets, sinks and floors. One plate now, one knife, one fork. Sometimes she would cut things like meat loaf or fish with the edge of the fork, skipping the knife, one less utensil to wash. Less time at the sink, less time to think. Against the outside darkness she could see her reflection in the kitchen window. How old she had become. Reminders were everywhere of how her life was dwindling, shrinking, shriveling. She felt too small for her skin, which hung loosely on her like a half-filled bag of potatoes, pouches and folds everywhere. She would need to put this dishcloth in the laundry after finishing. She always rinsed them in cold water to inhibit the bacteria growth but they would start to smell after only a few days. She had become accustomed to foul smells. The smell of dying cells and incontinence pads and bad breath, side effect of certain medicines. She hated eating alone, living alone, being alone, but sometimes she hated it even more when memories of better days settled in upon her. it was like a visit, full of joy and expectation, exciting conversations, catching up, and sharing fond memories. But it was always followed by goodbyes, the pain of separation, and a return to loneliness. She put her plate in the cupboard and was reminded of how she had put other things in her life away; her younger sister from an accident, her only son from someone’s war, her husband three years back from cigarettes she had threatened to divorce him over. She put her silverware in the drawer and closed it tightly, closing her mind tightly at the same time. It wouldn’t do to dwell on any of this, what’s done is done. The dishes were done
I've never been married but I'm a spouse as I'm
partnered with the spirit
These false marriages are underhanded so pay
close attention to discern it
Some things attach because they're desperate to live
through you & what you have
If you look closely it's not adding up but yet & still
it's about the math
Sadly this is where we're at after all the places we could
& should have been
We're engaged in battles without our knowledge but
the truth always fights to win
These soul ties are bound to happen & sometimes the
binds expose their flaws
Before you know it you're caught in the current being
swept away by natural law
Sometimes contracts are signed with disregard to what's
best for you & your inner self
Always take stock before you invest as it will affect your
inner wealth
They move with stealth to throw you off but keep your
balance & walk the line
Beware of false marriages as they cross boundaries as
well as spiritual & legal lines
Some bear false witness telling lies but this was always
how it would go
Eventually the masks will slip to expose the face that
was always meant to show
Estate sale, treasures only to those who once lived here.
Stories long ago forgotten, maybe to never be told.
A somber event, people move wordlessly, occasionally whispering a “sorry” as they wait on the stairs.
We are like vultures, picking our way through the dead-feeling debris, left behind by other scavengers, and relatives.
I stare in amazement at the volume of glassware. The queen could feed an army with it, maybe two.
So many dated necklaces, hats not worn since the 60’s, a volume of books, some written in German.
A hand painted raccoon on a flat dark canvas grins at me. I try to leave him three times, but I cannot.
He is signed Carolyn 80. I match him up with a frame and they fit perfectly, no doubt partnered before the sale.
I believe the owner of this dwelling might have been an art teacher, as there are many paintings here, different dates, different signatures, and those horrible old dried up oil paints upstairs.
Her sewing machine was my next big find. She sewed, she was an artist, and she quilted.
An infamous she, who is no longer coming back to her home, never sitting in those plushy lawn chairs,
Never seeing her home again. The thrill of my finds dampens a bit by this knowledge.
Someday I will be this “she” they are wondering about.
I envision my four hundred and twenty odd paintings thrown onto a bonfire.
No one appreciates your collectibles more than you, the painter of your own life.
I leave somberly, holding my new sewing machine, feeling strange.
ANGEL'S TOUCH
Did you ever stop to think,
What this angel's touch really mean?
Smiling at you at a flower's blush
Giving you the time to think and hush
When you wanted a melody to hear
She sang you a song in joyous tears
When you badly needed determination;
She is ready to give you inspiration
When only a joke could make you smile;
She flashed it to you in shortest mile
When you wanted a game to play;
She partnered with you in gay
When only an hour you swore to spend;
She wants to be with you until the end
When strings of thorns are poured upon you;
With arms wide open, she welcomed you
She comforted and gave you might
All these all she did with heartfelt delight
Now, I ask you...
Have you ever felt the touch of an angel?
____________________________________________
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
Contest Name: Beginnings Matter
Placed 2nd
©O. E. Guillermo
2:39 am, June 30, 2013
***my first ever poem @ fifth grade elementary.. :D? I was nervous when I posted but am excited and thrilled to see, how many reads it will get and the comments.. :)
Fears of Abandonment
I feel you need
and want me less
than I need
and want you,
and like you,
or how about exclusively
peculiarly
curiously love you?
adult with mature adult,
embracing EarthTribe perennial invitation
into nutritious co-habitation.
And yet I fear
we both would rather invest ourselves
in most any distraction,
entertainment,
idle gossip,
idol worship,
other than this sacramental relationship
of me with
and for you,
and you
with and for me.
Not despite all our decades
of competing foolishness,
but learning together through all our beat down
hidden longings
to feel safe daily respite;
to feed sacred partnered
sanctuary feelings,
covenanted thoughts
Of epic everyday co-investors
with no sacred or secular,
divine or profane assets
held in dualistic
disassociated reserve,
just in case life doesn't work out safely together
better than unsafely apart.
When sacred love conquers all defensive fears
and transparent invitation
redeems secular competitions in anger
overwhelming economies of needy greed
and selfish politics of envy,
When daily co-passion rules
not just left-brain corporate commodity identities
but also pervades our cooperative right-brain sanctuary
of primal relationship feelings,
deep learning connection,
robust attachment,
Then our mutual root system
and garden,
our forest of emotions,
our home plate defensive motions,
our core incorporations
for not abandoning compassionate Earth
as we know and love
all Her multiculturing incarnations
of co-empathic relations
further refine Golden Rules and Ratios,
Health-passion, slow-grown
co-arising emergent ecstasies,
co-gravity emoting climax,
epic wonder,
awesome win/win integrity.
Feeling cooperatively needed
wanted
heard
appreciated
through natural nurturing ego/ecosystems,
mutually-held and responsive invitations
to love all EarthTribes,
life forms
as EarthMother has win/win loved you
and me,
All Souls of regenerations past,
present,
future.
Light, essence white shines in beauty, eyes green,
human heart, spirit’s hull, please don’t despair,
life, your trials tinctured light-dark I’ve seen..,
you’re never alone; with you I am here.
Mortal being -- sainted soul -- hand in hand,
partnered; life’s pebbled footpaths, we do share.
Someday, we’ll traverse azure’s Promised Land..,
you’re never alone; with you I am here.
Free will; color palette pastel choices,
through hues of happiness or stains of fear,
muted disappointments, rich rejoices..,
you’re never alone; with you I am here.
Each tint a test each shade a solution,
lift song’s surrender to Him in prayer,
till final breath – Divine absolution..,
you’re never alone; with you I am here.
Susan Ashley
September 7, 2017
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Poems That Paint a Picture
Sponsor: Silent One
*based on painting by Saatchi provided by Silent One on contest page
Looking skywards, the Alsatian’s eyes glinted for a split second, connecting to a piercing sun ray.
The ray beamed onto dried semen ammonia. Hot dog breath puffed from his nostrils, onto my bare arm.
He sprung next to a sweating succulent, where a tiny kruisbessie leaf quivered human sperm cell display, in a whimpering breeze.
This was a filigree second, in a day of twenty-four hours times twenty-four hours.
Next the Alsatian’s back muscles rippled.
Coarsely-soft black-brown hair along his spine needled up. Four other police dogs whelped in frenzy. He gave a whip snort-sniff, then one sharp bark of achievement.
Wolf ancestry pupils dilated, penetrating that of his handler.
Time, matrixed into bruised, scratched body was a figment, my cells metabolising light and raw earth like the fragrant koppie bushes. Detective voices sliding sediment rock were parachutes opening, falling, dissipating __the helicopter an incessant mozzie.*
“Hy’t dit gekry.” **
The Alsatian with his helper dogs found the evidence of a brutal ripping of my young teen daughter’s virginity, by an impoverished farm worker, on a rugged hill in the Little Karoo.
THE ALL partnered with dogs for humans.
from my loins, a jewel
God connected sun with earth
violence, a teacher
_________________
*mozzie : slang word for mosquito
** “He’s found it.”
_________________
This lifetime’s moment is etched into my evolving DNA as experience. The power of seeing an Alsatian’s eyes connect in radar, with the heavenly Sun, directing him to dried semen on a delicate fynbos* leaf was astounding. Instant perception was one specific gift during great trauma. I chose this unrepeatable moment as it emerged from memory when I read the contest details.
No line was hard to write, though I shed a couple of stagnant tears.
I deleted how I was able to access the best sniffer dogs in the country, the Alsatian and his handler being flown in from another city. I deleted contextual details about the time.
____________________
*fynbos : fine sweet smelling bushes, some producing small flowers, indigenous to South Africa. Rocky koppies are often covered with them, making this type of hill challenging to climb.
PLACED NINTH : Premier Contest
Sponsor: Daniel Henry Rodgers
Feb. 26
THE GIFT: REBIRTH
Oh God, my Dearest God...
clothed me fine
with your love divine
upon magma pits that hid me
Oh God, my Dearest God...
take me, save me... Save me!
My life gnarled
old like cathedral trunks
deep rooted under brown solid soil ground.
Branching trials somehow
coiled and pinned me down..
So as dark cyclopean sins fog me;
shuddering my peace and sane.
Oh God, my Dearest God
how calm, oh so calm, you came.
How quiet, oh so quiet you cared
How gently, oh so gently, You cushioned me
Lovingly, oh so lovingly, YOu rescued me.
Tumbling twixt to pillars of dawn and twilight
Oh God, my Dearest God
With You, threading mountain to mountain of woes,
lead me to harvest free
to orchard gifts of wisdom, hope and strength
even to crystal stairs of limitless amber wonder,
You let me experience to pursue these borders.
Oh God, my Dearest God...
With our partnered walk
icy drizzle of snowtalk
melted gradually...
Oh God, my Dearest God...
By siblings of smiles and golden gestures
You permitted me to have anew nurture.
Oh God, my Dearest God
allow me then to hymn a psalm
let it be a humble hum
of my gratitude to Your matchless charm.
Barefoot, oh God, I will come
baring all and bowing down.
I will deliver my soulful cry
that my aged misty life is gone
And that,
now
is a present rainbow valley of rebirth..
© O. E. Guillermo
10:21 pm
September 02, 2014
Sponsor Verlena S. Walker
Contest Name The Gift
Placed first.. :) to God be the glory..
Inspire by Biblical Verse:
2 Corinthians 5:17
Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come...
HER TALENTS CREATED BARRIERS
FOR ALL OF THOSE WHO WISHED TO REPLACE HER
SOME CITED, THEIR BELEIFS INSTEAD OF SPEAKING
OF HER TALENTS. THE INCREASED COMPETIVE FEELINGS
AMONG THESE PERSONS, SOILED EACH OTHERS EGO
AND DID NOTHING TO THE POSITION THAT THE TALENTED
WOMAN HELD, AND STILL HOLDS.
ONE SAID THAT NIGHTS ARE SPENT SAYING HER NAME
AND SPEAKING IT, TO THE LEVEL OF GOD!
ONE DAMNED HER AND PLACED A CURSE ON HER
AND HER FREINDS, SAYING THAT ALL OF THEIR CO-SORTING
AND REHERSTING MADE HER MORE WISE TO
THE NEEDS OF THOSE WHO HAD PLACED HER ABOVE THE REST
BUT WE HEARD THE DIFFERANCE IN THE PITCHES, AND THE STREAMLINED EXCHANGES
BETWEEN HER AND WHO EVER SHE PARTNERED WITH,
"YET THE LION ROARS: AND ALL THOSE IN THE KINGDOM, WISHES TO
KNOW WHO HE SHALL EAT!"