Long Penciled Poems
Long Penciled Poems. Below are the most popular long Penciled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Penciled poems by poem length and keyword.
"When tomorrow comes and I'm again with you,
I'll stand on your feet while we dance forever."
Quote _ by poet
Yesterday seasons waved goodbye
as we listened to sounds of joy.
Spacious skies ever made anew
from sincere blue to jealous green.
Crosswise threads wind and hours drew nights
penciled footsteps patterns drew faint.
A wanderer of aged mirth, glean
quintessence love set forever.
Underneath sun amorous view
sweet golden years, not a goodbye.
You and I, unfinished garden
of poetic dreams and romance.
My love, my being still feels your
touch and hear your whispers of love.
3/28/2022
Form L - Lay - New Poetry Contest 2. Romance
Sponsored by: Constance La France
“Kiss Me”
Purple is the color of
My true love’s hair
She tied it in a knot
And bound it with a yellow bow.
Said kiss me if you want.
Orange is the color of
My true love’s nails
She put a diamond on each one,
Said kiss me if you want.
Green is the color of
My true love’s eyes
She grew her lashes long
Penciled in her brows
Much to my surprise,
Said kiss me if you want.
Gold is the color
Of that jewel on her tongue
She put it there forever
Never to come out,
Said kiss me if you want.
Black is the color
Of an eagle on her back
She bought it in Saint Louie
From a man named Tim Dewey,
Said kiss it if you want.
So naïve am I
I kissed her everywhere
And still dream of eagle feathers
Way down there.
He blinks in and out in a wingchair,
overhears what visitors say
when patients
can be talked about
as if not there.
People speak well of the dying,
even of dying strangers,
to him their words
prematurely shovel earth.
The terminally sick
must be accommodated,
penciled into time slots,
eased gently into oblivion.
He listens as he slips downstream
on a raft of morphine.
These last trips are scenes taken
from childhood books.
His own life story has become
absurd, it is almost as if
he is a character in someone else's life,
a Huckleberry Finn
whistling through Dantes Inferno.
What he really wants
is a rocking horse and ice-cream.
A nurse brings him ice-cream,
but it's the wrong flavor.
He wonders if anyone can see
the horse he rides upon,
his ten-gallon hat is as white
as a flying nun's Cornette.
The occasional visitors
watch the dying in dreadful relief.
Hypnotic minds drone like trapped bee's.
Frank Sinatra jets in from wonderland,
hands him a coloring book.
If only he had crayons
to fill in the blanks.
Rushing through each day, as if I had not a care,
head long toward the sun screaming, "catch me if you dare."
Dripping drabs of liquid sunshine burn my deft eye.
While seeking answers to the question, why, why! Why?
Into the sun I run, my skin so hot and dry,
as the dusky penciled pastels of twilight smear.
Through tight clinched lids the sun glares, blind I'll be I fear,
always grasping for truth, but my head just can't clear
my thoughts on the tautly stretched canvas of my mind.
Race and run and fill my lungs, still I fall behind
playing catch with the sun, and all I seem to find,
I'm racing toward the horizon of tomorrow.
Please, one more chance, for a moment I can borrow,
but blithe sun denies me, leaving me in sorrow,
while in the distance the light slowly fades to dark.
Truth or naught, who can say, the end is cold and stark
the meaning is lost in life's fading rainbow arc,
enveloping me in my sadness and despair.
Dripping drabs of liquid sunshine burn my deft eye
as the dusky penciled pastels of twilight smear
my thoughts on the tautly stretched canvas of my mind.
I'm racing toward the horizon of tomorrow
while in the distance the light slowly fades to dark
enveloping me in my sadness and despair.
07/29/16
Angry clouds were above
Displaying hatred not love
With an angry growl
Came a heavenly howl
There are energy impulses
Crackling lights dished out in doses
Joined the powerful teaming downpour
Angels sending a message about this star gazing tour
Two men scheduled to be shot in the air
No return date set for the galactic dare
It took a little time
But the sun came out to shine
A natural cosmic luring test
Challenging earthlings wanted to leave their nest
Launch countdown never stopped
Plan continued from the pad lot
After placing the pair in seated positions
Patiently waiting for the ‘go’ decision
Commanding lift starting the space station mission
Clock under twenty
Big business experimenting investing their money
Word came to abort
Due to the weather who was the true judicial court
Safety concerns were the reasons
Canceling the spectacle during Florida’s rainy season
Temporary relieving the responsibilities for the dragon crew
Delaying a dream ready to come true
Mother Nature commanding man to be told
“This adventurous travel must be put on hold!
Until a new window open soon
And then it can resume
A space junket to the resort orbiting the moon”
Man penciled in a date
Saturday afternoon sounds great
Still the meteorology influence will have the final say
About sending this peaceful rocket on its way
Down that street. The big house, teeming transmissions
of penciled degrees from paper thin ‘pedes,
has basic nature themed accommodations.
Mud wiped under feet. White fresh carpet steamed
and obvious windows certainly so
I walk on hands. Here’s a photo I can’t hold.
Denver on rental skis on stolen snow
a sneaky crook took (much later it snowed).
Pencil thin frames. Too much foundation. Here’s more
in the kitchen. A pumpkin on the counter top
hands over a knife. I open a door
then I carve through a window. Snow hasn’t stopped,
but Cinderella (who’s a lunatic)
undressed before one (still) looks pretty thick.
12/17/2018
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98eIW6CN62k
Those Parisienne days of love beneath the Champs Elysees
I remember Paris 1949, drinking a glass of old Beaujolais wine
And I recall that summer when we kissed and you were mine
In those Parisienne days, you were always `Ma Petite Poupee``
`
Looking back at photographs, summer days warm as honey
corner cafes with creme brulee, pretty eyes a shade of rum
sharing penciled love notes and paragraphs, you ma tres jolie
together we did taste the wine, beneath the Parisienne sun
We toured La Tour Eiffel I must admit you were tres belle
with a french berret smile I guided you towards the lake
Bassin de la Villette, where you were happy picking shells
In those Parisienne days we were always wide awake
I recall that summer when we you promised to be mine
in the petit cafe, where we shared a bottle of wine.
Got my brand-new calendar;
It’s filled with empty squares.
With entries made, there’s not a chance
I’ll be caught unawares.
I mark down all important dates
So I can send a card.
When penciled in, in black and white,
It’s really not that hard.
Appointments, too, are written
So there’s no way I’ll forget;
And in my bag’s a mini date book,
Like a safety net.
My iPhone has a calendar
But so far I don’t use it.
When I have info on the wall,
There’s no way I can lose it.
So once a year, I make the switch
And transfer all my cues.
My brain needs these reminders
Or it’s apt to blow a fuse.
And as each little square fills up,
Just waiting to arrive,
Anticipation percolates;
The future comes alive.
Face framed ornate, or curl corner blu tacked up
Childhood fanciful daring must softly be contained
Dispicable hovers inside cherub cheeked adorable
Challenge for enamoured to create correct shape
Administer discipline with compassion entangled
Potential beckons infant innately curious
Toddler discovery meshed with messiness
Woven with wonderment routine can't limit
Succumbed mother disowns justifiable furious
Besotted witness, sure estate for mischief
Nudging daughters towards beings approved
Beyond old rigidity, modern option multiples
Youth spoken forums we're foreigners to
Images of genuine and fake indiscernible
Listened to lunacy delivers messages askew
Duty to daughters reflect our similarity
Penciled declarations stuck to fridge
Devotedness focussed on child precious
Inflated effort, parents' universal currency
Whether meagre expenditure, or excess
Snippets of your prosper are written in me
Lawyer loads clothes into washing machine
Submerged both classes in a world severe
Puppets of striving in fast passed society
Consumer boom boldly commandeered
Disparity reveals parental symmetry amazing
Faithfully accommodating girls' shifting needs
Working mothers, each of us 'unaccompanied'
Various sized resources serve child raising
Sacrifice made by dedicated souls equally
Providing guidance, friendship gripes quieten
Line of latitude curved by desire to control
Old school wisdom bolsters brains susceptible
Dramatised screen infused new century children
Content quickly spirals into unacceptable
Desperately hoping, we Mother soldiers
Shield children from future provocation
Hold fort, nest feathered dedication
Thrusted comfort, reluctant scolders
Admist mixed rails, reliable station
Within swayed pre teen trajectory
Sturdy parenting depots journey
Home stands firm from outside duress
Finances overshadowed by reliability
Partnered peers approve sole success
17th July 2020
For Sotto Poet's E Words Contest
17 June 24
POTD. First Prize
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"Enthusiasm is nothing more or less than faith in action" -- Henry Chester
I cling to reveries of youth, the tender sentiment of plucking words from summer roots,
That in my journal hours when the red
of skies are agleam...phrases extend long long as straw.
I burn language the way one does in
a flamed trance--amused, enthused,
seduced-- reeling into a daze beneath
a new moon, a blur of penciled happenstance flapping like a winged feather on river of late afternoons.
I would still scribble in hay where syllables grow into racy tunes , my faith abiding in passion deep...
And I could not help myself but drown
my hands in raw and humid lines;
Bury my eyes deep in verses' jammed.
I'm loathed to leave my untamed story
when twilight fades. Still and all, letters
drip and tradewinds see blown paper
curling like blotted fingertips!