Long Personification Poems
Long Personification Poems. Below are the most popular long Personification by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Personification poems by poem length and keyword.
Too long since smooth sapling skin
bent supple with the slightest breeze;
now stretched, fissured and furrowed -
bored, burned and bent -
sliced, scarred and carved, yet
I have lived wonderfully and fully.
Old limbs that once swung
a laughing child and sheltered
more than one forbidden kiss;
the only witness to many lonely tears
and, at least as many hopeful prayers.
Why pensive then, when so many
would desire my fate?
Perhaps those melancholy desires
for what was, when I stood not
quite as tall, when many
proud elders surrounded me,
wise and strong but now gone.
I will soon join them but
today a Robin tickles my brow -
a home for one more brood
and October will find one last shout
of crimson beauty ... I am still
proud.
We had heard the rumors of Old Galavere being revived
But who could believe it? It was another myth, a fantasy.
Some optimistic young storysinger must have thought it up.
We are Vikings, we do not put much truth in these tales.
Warriors we be until the day our bodies turn into dust.
This march has been hard on all of us; we are losing ground.
No fears! Someone says. Old Galavere has been revived.
He is resurrected! He will save us, lead us into battle.
The army is not fooled. There is laughter in the air, disbelief.
Most are discouraged, disillusioned, unnaturally despondent.
‘Tis true, I had a vision! The young pup whined. With hawk in hand.
I gave him further attention now; few knew about Galavere’s hawk.
Only the oldest of the wisest of the medicine men knew of it.
Who is your father, knight? I asked the young one.
He named a leader whose fame is well known in Viking lore.
I turned to the woods, believing, as Old Galavere came toward us with hawk.
Beautiful and bold she paints my imagination
Every flowing dance move a total inspiration
Ssmiles adorn every face even if covered in lace
Movements made elementary through elegant grace
Lights reflect all the colours of her sunny saris
Rainbows flow to music becoming a safari
Bengal tigers roar a mosaic of emotion,
carrying their sound far over the deep Indian Ocean
Strong imagery makes her show a potent hot curry
Partaking in this bowl can’t be done in a hurry
Your tears will flow but your heart will fill surly not fold
Her gold henna hand draws you out from the freezing cold
Hollow and cold Hollywood sneers at soft and pretty
Black blue and bleeding is what feeds that heartless city
IS THAT THE LEAD? Is all that he says,
And he says with a joyful surprise,
He thinks these words all by himself,
And speaks with the look in his eyes,
Then his tail it thumps, he jumps in the air,
Lands, pirouettes and turns,
And impatiently waits for almost a second,
To hear the most magical words,
“The river!” OH MY GOD, YES FANTASTIC, LET’S GO, YOU’RE THE BEST,
NOW LET’S OPEN THE DOOR,
AND I’LL PULL YOU TO THE MAGICAL PLACE WE BOTH GO,
His barking I cannot ignore.
Every day at four is my dog’s favourite time,
His daily walk when he rushes outside,
And we go to the river where he swims all he wants,
And he leaves his boredom behind.
Hello, guys! am I new to you?
Don't be scared I am just a virus
I came to the human cycle recently
As some Chinese eat wild animal
Come on! Let's tell you something
About my attitude toward people
Even some people have been killed
Actually, I am much soft tempered
As a matter of fact, I don't want to kill
I am trying to dwell well in a new life
And trying to be your friend as possible
Come on! Don't feel too scary, friend!
I am right turning to be another flu
I will leave when summer is coming
And come back as the weather is cold
And now I am ready to leave!
And may I visit again alike another flu
Don't allow little demons to sweep you off your feet,
let float like weed,
and your boat will cross with ease-
serious feed to cattle you are,
don't stray too far from a tree top tower-
or better yet a shower,
at the gym,
or with the powder,
can't go wrong with earths little hours-
when you listen longer than your age allows,
can't sing too many songs-
it just wouldn't be right,
can't ever breath too long,
unless it is time to fight-
the light,
the time,
or the swipes,
oh the car that drives me around outside!
Oh the dangerous doer walking on his own with stride!
Simple but still swine.
I don't need!
I don't pry!
I clean myself-
no need to understand another mans price,
because whats mine?
I don't calculate a dime...
unless its a dime,
the pocket change overflowing out of my mind,
some call it waste,
some call it device-
I call it the youth I am still so unable to deny!
Oh no, I can’t do it here!
And my feathers are a mess!
Can’t a clucker have a little privacy?
I don’t know about the rest of you
but I can’t just pop out egg after egg
like I’m a plastic PEZ dispenser!
And certainly not in front of that pushy
crower, Chanticleer.
Cock-a-doodle-doo, Cock-a-doodle-SHOO!
There’s not even enough straw in here
to fashion a two-bit bedroom.
And the walls are crate paper thin!
You’d think this was a hen party!
I haven’t heard this much cackling
since the Chippendales came through!
No, changes WILL be made if they ever
want to taste my omelet!
I am a paper bag.
I am only as good as what I can carry.
I am a paper bag, I am.
I’m not the smart one,
I’m not the successful one
I’m not the tall one who always won and
Then died.
I am a paper bag.
I’m only as good as what I can carry.
I am a paper bag,
I’m not plastic, not I.
I am paper: rough, brown and thin
I’m not waterproof, you know.
And I can’t hold any liquids or gases within.
I only have room for the stuff that matters.
You know, I’m a paper bag.
I’m only as good as what I can carry.
I am a paper bag.
Wrinkled and used and often abused
Thrown on the floor.
Buried deep inside your drawers.
I am a paper bag.
I cannot ask for anything more.
I’m only as good as what I can carry.
https://tinyurl.com/y5c4pnet
River Ethiope has swallowed another big
fish
River Ethiope has swallowed another big
fish
She waves her tail large the size of her
teeth
River Ethiope has swallowed a big
fish
Her hungry is a mystery
feed
Her fangs cold like her broad
hips
She is a regurgitating
beast
chews her cods
slowly
she raises her prey up down
up again and down then up
the third time and. finally chews
after some days in the belly
vomit it prey
stiff
stilled
ill
many forgotten souls lie beneath her. deep
River Ethiope has hijacked another student
Like a hawk she dives prickly
On its prey at a glance sweeps like cyclone and steals
At the brink
of her mouth another
Final year scholar she drinks who
Gone to be with the swim
is gone into
thin air only to be seen
days later on
top of her skin white, stiff still
Eyes pop out.
River Ethiope is a. beast
She never get filled
River Ethiope is found in Niger Delta area
Located in Ethiope East, Delta state in Nigeria
This poem is based on a true life story
With close personal experience
In my university days,
Delta State university , Abraka
5/6/2020
I am but four walls painted purple, I remember that day,
the girl of raven hair, standing on a ladder painting me.
I was laughing because her hair had streaks of purple,
and she was dappled all over with dots of me, you see.
The next few days, I was left alone to dry in quietude,
then came the antique furniture and mauve drapery.
Art work was attached to me in hues of purple,
my whole essence was lovely and I rested peacefully.
I liked to watch the girl dance around in her pretty dresses,
looking at herself in the ornate, oval mirror, so pretty.
Often she would sit at her desk writing in her diary,
with tears in her eyes, head bowed, I was full of sympathy.
One day, she wore an elegant dress of white lace,
she danced and pranced around the room smiling happily.
I was so happy for her, but not exactly sure why I was,
but I should have been sad because she was leaving me.
Years my door remained closed, the furniture covered,
then one day, an old lady walked in holding the hand of girl.
She stroked the raven hair of the girl she called granddaughter,
and told her, "this is the room where I used to dance and swirl."
_______________________________
September 4, 2012
Poetry/Personification/Wall of Years
Copyright Protected, ID 09-418-309-04
All Rights Reserved, 2012, Constance La France
For the Standard contest, If These Walls Could Talk,
sponsor, Black Eyed Susan, Judged 09/17/2012
Third Place