Long Pearly white Poems
Long Pearly white Poems. Below are the most popular long Pearly white by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pearly white poems by poem length and keyword.
The meadow’s breath a gift to all, the mist, the morning dew,
a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you.
Green and warm, full of life, the forest's skirt, the Maid's delight,
where rabbits dwell in lovers’ dells, a dream in morning light.
Gold and bright, full of life, the forest's skirt and Knight's delight;
life lies in grasses high, where lovers sleep and passion cries.
White and fair, full of life, the forest's skirt of pearly white;
burrowers sleep in bowers deep, hearths alight on chill nights.
The meadow's breath a gift to all, the mist, the morning dew;
a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you.
The men have made the meadow home, no rabbits now play there,
no deer appear so near the roads for cars bring them dispare.
The meadow was home to many things, butterflies, birds on wing,
yet, few can dwell where men reside, the forest's skirt swept aside.
The meadow’s breath a gift to all, the mist, the morning dew,
a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you.
Some days I just wanted to tread muted waves
not knowing whether
what grazed my leg was a porgy,
or a Leviathan reaching out to me from the gradient depths.
The paranoia kept me afloat,
the fear drove me to swim to shore.
When I made it back to the sand,
I chose not to live as I did before.
Walking away, I looked back at the dunes, gray and dulled,
yet the sun cloaked the sky in an orange nightgown.
The ocean smiled that evening,
a pearly white grin born from the descending gleam.
From what I saw in the horizon
in the sheen, dimensions were torn from the seams.
the sea’s teeth melted away,
its dentures rotted into a violent green.
A craterous head, so alien, so organic
crowned with mesopelagic knickknacks.
Phosphorescent eyes surrounding its gelatinous skull
poked out of the boiling cauldron that was the Atlantic.
Its behemoth sized hand, with fingers gnarled and gangly
erupting so fast!
Contrasting the married sky of lavender and apricot
Levi, then gently waved me goodbye.
Her eyes a sapphire blue,
An awesome sight to view,
Her nose aristocratic,
She was so charismatic,
Her lips a rosy petal pink,
One had to blink,
Or been seen as staring,
Her nature a sheer blessing.
Her hair pure black like coal,
Her ears so dainty as if she stole
Them from a pretty fairy,
Her friendly attitude quite flirty,
Her peeking bosoms such a tease,
Begging for a squeeze,
Her tantalizing always alluring waistline,
Her demure look whilst sipping wine,
Her legs, toned and smooth,
The actual truth,
Those legs were the best in town,
Caire lived in a cottage down
The hill, her ankles slim and slender,
Her speaking tone ever so tender,
Her teeth pearly white,
Her nails and toe-nails bright
Red, wrists strong, fingers slight.
She was betrothed to the mayor,
Was this beautiful girl Caire,
To be married next week,
By a sandy beach near a sheltered creek,
Excitement was mounting,
Two days to go, she was counting,
Claire had ordered a Dior designed dress,
This was the perfect wedding, oh yes!
Her parents arrived the day before,
They were excited wanted to explore,
Mark’s parents acted a little strange,
There was never any form of exchange,
Of phone calls, no answer to a wedding invitation,
Future husband gave Clair limited information,
She looked radiant as she walked down the aisle,
She turned everybody’s head, unique was her style.
Happy as a lark to be her beloved’s wife,
She looked forward to her future role in life,
Suddenly, police sirens heard,
The noise moving closer, how weird,
Two cars arrived and, four or five policemen,
Walked towards the couple, in fact ten,
Cuffed her future husband, read him his rights,
Clair fainted, Mark was a criminal, many nights
She often thought he was too secretive,
Which made her sad, certainly not appreciative,
Claire dear girl, you forgot, habits are difficult to re-arrange,
Mark was set in his ways, so hard for you to have him change.
Mark was wanted for fraud, millions of pounds
Involved, had cooked the books, so out of bounds,
Claire's mom and dad put her gently into their car,
And took her to their home which was far,
Claire took some time to get past this catastrophe,
Over a man she loved and about to relinquish her chastity,
Ralph a divorced writer was her parent’s neighbour,
Who soon stole Clare’s heart and her chamber!
The poet's own;
Now alone;
I see myself as nothing;
No one would have me;
I was co-created by God/Mom/Dad;
In my day hospital cost about eight-hundred
Dollars
I am elated, molded and created by the
Father
I see myself as sure;
Was once insecure;
my self esteem, my self importance;
Has no relevance;
I believed that I am a chosen one;
I've always worked on a job;
When they allowed me to have one;
I don't like my teeth because there're not pearly white;
Now there's no hope inside my heart;
My minds all torn apart;
Lost my wife in 2016;
Lost 2 jobs in 2017;
Yet I have joy
What AM I HAPPY for;
I am elated, molded and created by the
Father
I see myself as sure;
Was once insecure;
My hope is longevity of life;
I'm widowed maybe I'll remarry have a new wife;
What is life if God not there;
Jesus holds the hands to all His children;
I've ran away in the past couldn't hide;
Did I say I got Jesus on my side;
My tears, I'll wipe them dry;
My fears, I denial and;
I'm a wretch undone, I'm the only one;
Who cares less about myself;
I just a mess;
I still want longevity of life;
Want to be one of those humans that see Christ descend;
I'm imperfect in every way;
But I'm on my knees I pray;
If I'm not good enough for me;
I'm not struggling, I'm evolving;
I'm not good enough, but I AM;
I'm not old enough, but I AM;
I shall not fall on my face, I won't
I'm covered by my God's merited amazing grace;
In my weakness I'm strong;
In my short stature I'm tall;
Nothing this world and the people there of;
No devil in hell gonna get me down;
Not even my negative thoughts of my self;
Gonna make me frown, make me hold my breath;
I'm God's first son;
The Poet's Own
08/22/2017
Oh, me, that smile
it shines a mile
those lips so sultry sweet
that mane of hair
so rich and slick
disheveled, still a treat!
Your eyes of blue
oh, what a hue
a glacier full of fire
those teeth that flash
a pearly white
a dream wrapped in desire
Your voice....the silk
the velvet plush
of luxury divine
the way it trembles
on each note
what it does, I can't define
the way you move
the way you shake
the way the rhythm flows
I move, I groove
my body melts
a rush that glows and glows
My answer'd be
to question asked
"Tell me dear,
are you lonesome tonight?"
"No, I am not
You're not forgot
These thoughts still bring delight."
Eileen Manassian!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GanoEE7VUc
Elvis at his finest! OH!!!
On a dark, dark night
two emotional vampires met
their teeth were pearly white.
She was suffering,
he was recovering,
he however kept his wounds
tucked within a left kidney
where they festered
and leaked.
She knew he was her savior, just knew it.
He backed off while moving forwards,
they clutched
they fed off each other.
She told and retold him
of betrayals, her abuse,
her medicated madness.
He listened
dripping a sweet venom
which he called love.
Of course
the relationship was a huge success.
She dug a suicide hole in his chest
and he carried her around
until he they both miscarried.
There is so much deception
Diluted reflections,
Alluding to perfection
But denying the resurrection,
Changing what was formed during conception,
While claiming they are an exception.
It’s only a matter of time,
Before the righteous shine
For these trials are benign
In the grand span of time.
All these tests,
Bring forth the best,
And separate us from the rest.
Some think they are so blessed
But they are goats, I must confess
They are breaches in this mess.
Selling daughters
To the Order
Draping sin
In fine linen
Making love… a financial gain
While your sons go insane
Drinking blood sacrificed to demons
Making wealth off a man’s seaman.
Idolatry clothed in the "common good"
Many have forsaken what God said they would.
Perfecting holy words to fit a style
Don’t you know God says its vial?
Fear of man rather than the one
Who can cast you to hell and heal your son.
The infinite power, love and grace
Has suddenly been altered and replaced
By doctrines of devils and smooth operators
There is only one God and the rest are all haters.
But many go along with the times,
As if time won’t stop and require a fine.
We all have a date with an eternal fate,
We all have a dance with an eternal romance.
The question is what kind of dance will you eventually partake
Will it be pearly white gates or a fire filled lake?
By: Sabina Nicole
Common
Quote by Voltaire
To be common is to be normal,
It’s to have the sense to keep your mouth shut
And your smile wide.
To smile is not to smile
For your showing your pearly white teeth
Your actual soul is nowhere to be found,
Is it so abnormal to have a sharp tongue?
To smile with actual joy?
That’s the thing about being common,
It’s no fun at all
Date: 2/1/22
My Dad, the Coalman
My father was a coalman ,when I was a little girl
Five ‘o’ clock each morning, coal-sacks on his shoulder he would hurl
Behind the wheel of a lorry at fourteen years of age
No driving licence did he have, for he was under-age
My dad he was a strapping lad, what you would call robust
Handsome, though you couldn't tell, face covered in coal-dust
When he would come home at night, he was quite a scary sight
All I could see was big brown eyes and teeth so pearly-white
He'd perch me on his saddle and wheel me up and down the lane
Even though he'd worked a ten hour shift and was in a lot of pain
He used to tell us stories, they always made us laugh
He told us about a lady who wanted her coal put in the bath
One day he was approached by an expectant mum called Florrie
She told him that her waters had broken, so he took her on the lorry
When she arrived at the hospital, her skin and clothes were black
She'd got there safely in one piece, surrounded by Nutty-Slack
Some customers would pay upfront, my dad his lesson learnt
When customers refused to pay for coal already burnt
If someone was short of money, he would fill up their coal-scuttle
But if he told his dad, the boss, his response would be unsubtle
Hardly anyone has coal fires now and this makes me very sad
But lots of people in the town remember the Coalman, ‘my dad'
I drank the blood.
Shuffled up to the altar,
pearly white shoes scraping over
faded white tile dirtied by the footsteps
of countless sinners.
(I knew, even then, that that same grime already claimed my soul.)
I accepted the golden chalice with shaking
hands and brought it
ever so gently to my lips.
It tasted like poison, but I drank the blood.
I’d never feel so holy again as I did that day,
wholly pure in untouched white satin,
bursting with life and joy
and the light shining from the proud eyes of the parishioners.
But the light of their spirit would soon curdle in my veins
from the hatred of false goodness.
I pored over page after page,
dutiful scholar I was,
and found nothing but tongues lashing like the Romans
they should’ve disdained,
not mirrored.
Every biting indictment corroded the gleam of my soul
until the only light remaining
was the reflection of that glistening chalice.
I am not the one who bit the forbidden fruit,
and yet the sweetness of its juice mixes with
the blood on my dry, cracked lips,
crimson trailing down, down,
down my ashen face.
A stain of my humanity.
A stain of Your hands.
I drank the blood.
The transplant attacked my system,
draining the life from my eyes
until I was left pleading You to sop up
the few lasting drops with a pitying rag.
Merciful as You’re written,
I begged you,
knees bloodied and scarred,
to transform me.
Make me whole
or dismiss me to the depths.
Fix me,
or allow the scourge and fire to purify me
for ever and ever.
I called into the night for year after year
before I realized it was as vacant as I was revolting.
Was I right?
I may never know,
but I do know something inside of me broke those days,
shattering me from the inside out.
I try to escape, peeling back rotten layers,
but it courses through my veins
steady and permanent as my beating heart.
I cannot claw it out, no matter how I try,
for I drank the blood.