Long Peel off Poems
Long Peel off Poems. Below are the most popular long Peel off by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Peel off poems by poem length and keyword.
I dress with less for my body flouncing
My titties jiggle and my ass is bouncing
I prance around to ring your bell
And call myself an Instagram “model”
I make up my face and pout my lips
I put on the music and shake my hips
I do up my hair with lots of gel
Pretty me, your favorite Instagram “model”
I tease to milk men of their hard-earned money
You stroke yourself instead of me, honey
I’m here to make your life less dull
That’s the charm of an Instagram “model”
They call me an e-thot, fishing for a “like”
That Ho Over There all girlfriends dislike
‘Cuz I record these videos of my body to sell
Look at me, I am an Instagram “model”
Some women before me took to the street
They marched and protested, refusing defeat
They burned their bras with their rebel yell
Nevertheless, I became an Instagram “model”
Please hit “like” as a natural courtesy
The more I get brings me closer to surgery
So I can flaunt again, making my head swell
In excess for me, an Instagram “model”
Lonely boy, did I satisfy your desire?
If not, I can take off more attire
I’ll entice all of you so very well
For I am the ultimate Instagram “model”
This is what has become of me
Since my daddy paid no attention, you see
All he did was shout and yell
Propelling me to be an Instagram “model”
Your best relationship inevitably ends
When your girl saw your likes on “With Friends”
Social media’s suggestions often tell
That you adore me, an Instagram “model”
I’m blamed for all the love that you lost
My curves seduced you at a high cost
You lost your love and then hit the bottle
All because of me, an Instagram “model”
This is only a breeding ground for me
Up next on Only Fans is where I’ll be
Attention seeking as you cuddle your cell
‘Cuz you can’t touch an Instagram “model”
Deep down the many problems I face
Are hidden well in teddies and lace
But the emotions I hold are worse than hell
Since I am an insecure Instagram “model”
After you peel off all of the layers
And strip away all of the players
I’m just a little girl who desperately fell
Into the trap of being an Instagram “model”
And here tonight I assumed
This would be just another one
of those average dinner parties
With a stream of boring associates and
their plus 1 partner or other
But wow
Hey you
Are so different from all the other's
Why I am so glad I bumped into you
and for you taking your time to introduce
yourself and engage with me in
conversation
Bacause you are so
Insightful
Engaging
Witty
Knowledgeable
&
Informative
I am so glad you came
Where have you been my entire life
I'll have to take your number down
So you can tell me so much more
about how I can be a better person and
how I could live a more fulfilled existence
And also again please as I am sure
you will begin by reminding me about
all of the charitable works you do and
endless causes you deficate your
spare time to
Because I especially loved and was
interested in your story about how
you have come up with a plan to
tackle climate change
Because I myself unlike you who is an
actual firm true believer in God and do
believe
I so to do also believe nature is beyond the
realms and out of humanities control
and remit
So once again may I say thank you for
coming and the pleasure of your company
and forthright opinion
As who on earth wouldn't thoroughly
love having welcoming you a guest
into our home
Having to spend a night for fear being
thought of as inhospitable lacking
manners and appearing rude
Wouldn't then enjoy appreciate and want
to to be lectured to about and have
pointed out all the countless thing's
they are going and doing wrong
By all accounts no 1 else but
themselves has anything good
to say about
And never actually got or anyone
invited in the 1st place and the only
reason they are here is because
They have no qualms Inviting themselves
as do they have expressing and imposing
their own personal uninvited opinion on
other's
And did they also forget to mention they
are also vegan meat is murder rude
to serve and eat in the presence of them
Smoke kill's and and if you want to do
it kindly go outside
And do you know just how much damage
Alcohol causes then peel off random
statistics
So many fun facts
My mother’s daughter
“I’m not a monster. I’m a mother.” -
every waking day l am my mother’s daughter.
from the shining of the floors l sweep
to the dusting of the mukwa furniture
On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (novel)
I've always wanted to know who my mother was before she had me,
before she rearranged the shelves she stacked with her ancient ambitions
and replaced them with cups of responsibility,
I want to know who my mother was.
before I took up so much room,
before I took up so much space in her prayers
I want to know who my mother prayed for,
before she traded her skirt for trousers,
before she wiped the tears of abuse
and replaced with a beard that slithered in her new masculine life.
I want to know who my mother was
before she took up the burdensome role of becoming my father too.
I want to know about the girl.
my mother was.
before she traded in all her girl
to be my mother...
I want to know who my mother is
because I’ve seen so many versions of her
versions that look like layers l never got to peel off.
I want to know who my mother is.
because I want to tell her...
I want to tell her about the way I want to make her proud,
I want to tell her, her strength is what makes me keep believing in future love
I want to tell her, that I've always wanted to be her best friend
I want to tell her, that no one will ever love her the way l do
oh, how I want to tell her that I once liked a boy
oh, how I want to tell her, I know what heartbreak feels like...
Mom, how I want to tell you all this and more.
but I want to first know who my mother was
before she had me
for I am afraid I am the reason she does not smile often
is it me, mother?
am I the reason for your lack of happiness?
what did you smell like before you had me?
how many friends did you have?
were you happy before you had me?
mother, you were always an aunt to another.
a sister to your brother,
a wife to my father and
in all these roles,
this letter to you, mother
but who were you before you had me?
BY ELSIE TADIWANASHE TINASHE MACHINGURA
Volcano
The mistress of the unknown covered with a strange material
Residues of what's left after an erruption, looks like surgical
Reaction of the unwanted visits, the peace of a ' criminal '
Leaving behind the rests of a memory pushed way beyond critical.
As a wish to explore the truth beneath this skin almost untouchable
Scars of a dreamer passing from God to Loui sounds incredible
Brought to heaven to be finally with his angel, what a miracle
Ripped naked in the haunted forest with only a sign on him : edible.
Since the story began , going through things others believe unimaginable
The explosion is already on the road, try if you want, it's unstoppable.
Your enthusiasm gets the attention but no one is even close to capable
Even if you empty the dictionary in hope to understand the unreadable.
Because faith and hope left the soul of this rock freezing and boiling
Rifled with questions, explanations, expectations making his stomach twirling
Waiting for the burst to burn everything around ? It's working
Mistakes and regrets of decisions turned him unconscious kepp on hurting.
So don’t wonder, if you survive the fire you still race with the lava
Running faster, fatigue hits and now the smoke approaches you to coma
As the acid rain falls on your soft skin eating your flesh , calling your momma
If you survive the question is : was it worth all this drama ?
I'm not going to tire you any longer, listen closely to this one of a kind wonder
Legend has it only one person ever touched the magic hiding under
So special ever since that moment trapped in an eternal hunger
Resulting in a story which pasionates humanity sadly ,finished in murder.
Because the pain is stronger than ever making this so called life unbearable
Walls of the fortress built to keep him safe peel off unceasingly
Unless the angels win, the wedding so awaited as a purifying miracle
He's going to burn everyone’s dreams turning the most special day into a funeral…
Cordon
1
Wide Pine Corridors
Lined Up Soldiers
Green waving
Arms,
With the wind
Celebrate my
Coming.
Their Bowing Salutes
Returned With Snap.
2
Behind the Roiling
Files,
Soaring Black Wingmen
Peel Off In Spirals
Flaring Upon Flesh
…Warm Carrion.
Lumpy Low Clouds
Mist
Ore the Trumpeter’s
Blare.
3
Lush Green Carpets
Stretching To The
Sun
Lay Down At My
Approach.
Their Shiny Straight Blades
Glow White
Like the Stones
Lining My
Passage.
Once upon a time,
a heart beats with bliss.
As the clocks chime,
we part with a kiss.
As you fade away,
the snow blinds my eyes.
I pray as I stray
under various skies.
The tiny glow wanes
as I hold it to my chest.
The heat stirs chains
deep in my breasts.
Slices of valves peel off
when planes maim clouds.
How many more coughs
needed in a crowd?
Toes taint with blood.
The road is still long
for me to cross floods
and muds with a song.
Flashes of you strikes
My heart, it breaks
Into million spikes,
enough to keep me awake.
Fragments pierce my veins
and cut my nerves
As I vaguely see trains
in arousing curves.
I will catch that train
that you leave on.
I will chase that plane
that you walk in.
All whites encompass me.
I cut open my skin,
Count on three,
I’ll pull out all my sins.
Tearing all the memories
out and seal the shealth.
Streaks of blood hints jeopardy
on you and my deaths.
Broken, but not over yet.
Lost, but with no fear.
Nobody will cause me threat
as I see with eyes clear.
Some time in nowhere,
you will reappear like snow.
You feel not my cold air
Or know I am about to go.
Slow, sweet liquor. This is what you are when you move next to me in the middle of the night.
Soft, dazzling starlight on a summer night in the desert.
Passionate, wicked smile.
Melt. Into. Me.
Take me apart with your skillful hands and put me back together again my scientist.
Test your hypothesis, examine, postulate…Taste the experiment. Peel off layers, slowly, till there is just enough left, to let your imagination go wild.
In silence, I can hear the pulse, your footsteps, your heartbeat…
The music that your soul makes is sultry, like the jungle in the middle of the night,
Mysterious, adventurous, full of fireflies and tigers!
This song is like a symphony of cicadas and crickets that I hear when I lean my head against my window pane in spring and listen.
Your lure. Allure. Is subtle, sublime…A storefront window and I have money in the bank.
Your skin, all the little scars and marks, a constellation – it is my map…
…To the heavens…
I have found my way home, in tiny steps, interwoven with yours, playfully chasing a dream…together.
Like children, with the whole day to play.
Our breaths lock together, like the ebb and flow, like the ocean tides rising up and down pounding on the shore,
You sink into me like a wave, full of force and fury….
I am your desert beach, your island, yours to wander, to know, to wrap yourself in the warm bounty of,
To taste and savor.
And at times, to reckon with… The tempest within.
A torrential downpour of kisses is forecast for now though…
A long misty, sexy afternoon of daydreams.
Fantasies. Longings…Cravings…
Sink your teeth into my white flesh. Gently… I can smell your scent, on the breeze.
It is my honey. Sugar. Powder. Dust. Delight. Full. You.
Stars that fall gently on my skin and stick there for a night of dancing...
I want you to have them…
- Celeste
I down poison and sleep for days
trying to take the heart ache away
I swallow rasorblades to take the headaches away
but nothing matters its always the same
what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger
liar liar pants on fire!!!!
Overdosed and dieing
survived it and now paying with liver damage and internal bleeding
The car crash of the drunk driver
how relaxing
nail biting aftermath
and another reason to go out and party
for the celebration
of the alcoholic
who just took the life of his best friend
I'm the victom
I'm the victom
I'm the victom he says
but low and behold the survivors in the other vehicle
stronger than ever
all crippled and in wheel chairs
know that
they should really thank the drunk driver and condemn
all the hippocrits who know nothing of survival
so here i am
wishing to be more strong
why bother to exercise
they surely have it all wrong
why pay attention to science any way
all those cliches can tell you about apples and sunshine
but we know what doesn't kill you makes you stronger
so i think I'll cut off my leg
go play in traffic
or fight the wars by doing too much drugs
the place inside the fire can tell you
what doesn't kill you will only make you strong
A second lease on life
a new found reason to get up and go
and find god and praise life
and all the things i should have done
and all the newfound glorious reasons to cry
why oh why oh why oh why
thank you lord thank you Jesus
thank you wars thank you liars thank you lies
thank you doctors thank you poets
thank you psychologists
thank you preachers for truly understanding an age old cliche
I'll peel off this apple to keep the doctor away throw out the core
and know
if it doesn't kill me
I'm probably just weak
and after all the rehabilitation and speach therapy i still don't feel like me
'This or That, Vol 34' Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh 18/6/25
_________________________________________
"It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions,"
Quote by William Shakespeare
Watching his face carefully for nuance of expression.
My sweet boy had developed such intense depression.
Every night his screams of terror would fill the air.
A calm uneventful sleep for him, was my prayer.
As sleep befell him, his panic and terror would begin.
Wailing, face wet with tears, unnerved by a horror within.
Holding him tight wasn’t any help as he trembled in fear.
His tired eyes fixed on a demon that isn’t really here.
Aggressive yet scared, an abhorrence to be sleeping at night.
Despair, overtook normal living to find a cure for his fright.
A boy once filled with love and joy, now replaced by distress.
Doctor offers strong drugs for him, reluctantly I will acquiesce.
Handing me a box, and holding a ladder, a neighbor came to call.
Stating this is for Michael and you must be careful not to fall.
I was most perplexed so for an explanation I sought.
What was the reason for his visit, and the things he brought?
He explained that he had seen his father die as a child.
The experience had turned sleeping into a horror so wild.
The box was full of self-adhesive glow in the dark stars.
Included were a larger peel- off Saturn and Mars.
His family had placed some iridescent stickers over his ceiling.
This, he explained was the start of his healing.
He helped me to adhere every last bright star.
During the daylight it is impossible to see where they are.
That night they shone and twinkled like candles in the wind.
Taking advice from a stranger, I was chagrined.
Next morning he called quite concerned, he hadn't heard a peep.
"Shhh" I whispered, "Since eight pm last night, he is still asleep."
The stench crawls up the mossy drapery in a
house reeking with death. The sad part is
no one died here, just my soul. A mirror on
the wall is a remnant of the God forsaken war
among me and… myself.
A look in the mirror brings back lost and
confusing memories. Days of hard labor
and nights of manly pleasure. I try to
forget about the vile smell, but it’s just
too hard to let go. I cover my mouth and
hold my breath-
Madness masquerading in my mind's sheath-
Decayed dust drifts into the devil’s relief.
Trapped in a room with only three walls
I sit and wait for a breath I can muster.
The longing for comfort in my bones is
deeper than the fragrance of loss. I
live for loss, and I’d die for it too.
This I know.
I’m just a dirty soul who clings to death
like a suicidal maniac. I’ve been here
before though, many times. I’ve felt the
pain of delight as glass has ripped up
my feet, leaving nothing but the scent
of foul blood-
Shouts of sinister sins save my spirit-
Frustration foretells fever, I can feel it.
Strangers visit and violate my soul. They
stay for days and after some time the aroma
of my secrets lingers on…on…and…on.
I’ve hidden laughter in the depths of
my stomach and when I am hungry I
sit and weep.
I cling to malodorous moments. You
know, the ones that boil you so blazed
you have to peel off your skin for relief-
To me, relief is in my poor manuscripts.
I write plays of sadness and in the end
the Queen always dies from disease
or depression. I read verses and sense
nothingness. I try to forget the vile
smell of pain, but it's just too hard to let go.
I cover my mouth and hold my breath-
Fetid fragrances free me just to forget-
Sanctity savors my sadness as I stink of regret.
Fictional write for contest
Stink Contest
October 2, 2016