Long Poetically Poems
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Poetry In A Mix
Here I sit, writing as I do,
God's gift to me that I can gift to you!
If I couldn't say things in poetry,
they wouldn't come out,
and be put on display?
Life's a journey; this is true.
Adventurous, thrillable,
the ups and downs, too!
God give me this gift,
this wondrous act it be.
Poetically displaying words of expression,
these things you can see?
I thought I'd write a poem
and introduce myself to you?
Hi, my name is Bill,
A pleasure to meet you, too!
Sit back,
relax,
read a line or two?
You never know where my words
will take you,
as I'm writing when I've something to say?
All you need to do is,
open your mind,
to a world to your imagination?
Might our journeys take us back in time?
Something else with this poem is relevant innovation,
and I'm ringing up the chime.
At post teenage
some day at tea a committee
my mates same age
while seated a round wooden chair
legs crossed, sipping coffee
did asked me
why do you speak in proverbs
poetry they mean to say.
I air to them in strong verb
living poetry is great pay
In poetic pen
pour my tears
my write for men
in verse
on the tables of my mind
is engraved poetic rhymes
poetry is fertility to my kind
like fertilizer the farm
I smile and chime
On the day of my birth
to this world I ushered
I vest in shirt
to enter
POETRY was there
to curdle me with care
SHE smeared me with her
poetic cream on my curly hairs
and as a toddler
when I blink
am full of laughter
with my poetic winkle
my poetic milk teeth you did see
as an infant
you did gaze at me
poetic baby you did me call at instant
Am Poem grown now!
Stamp my attitudes on my write
customize my plight
to copyright
My lyrics in verse
of my tears
It sheds
Prose penned
my mind
in kind
Poems
to tend
my dines
I feed
I live
believe
to succeed
I hunger in poetics
I so eat poetry
I thirsts in poetics
so I drink poetry
I air in poetics
so I breath poetry
I feel bored without poetics
I love cling poetry
I dream poetics
so I live poetry
I sing poetics
I speak poetry
I sleep poetics
I sit poetically
smile poetics
chime poetically
walk poetically
laughter in poetics
work poetically
after all in poetics
am a Poet
with
a bleeding
pen.
7th place
Your fave poem 2020 not written for a contest
John H
4/19/2020
back a small number of years thee diva of this domicile
exhibited an aura, charisma, enigma…devoid of any guile
boot of late turned a cold shoulder to me and I’ll
avoid denigrating, haranguing, and lambasting said dell lisle
la, whose avoidance behavior toward me – who goes a mile
out of her way to ensure our paths do not cross – noah din nile
per the above – well, perhaps a slight bit of hyperbole
viz this, mine swift tailored, harried style
per potpourri of puzzling perturbation evinced
by said olde world germane German dame we lease this duplex
treating us, as if we committed some egregious crime
subsequently forced to stand trial
viz aversion toward this convivial, frivolous and introspective chap
methinks said realtor/renter joined a coven den
where doe eyed zen of thieves
occupy teaching rubric of mean-ness while
taking appropriate and selective pages from play book of sarah palin,
which tension unlikely to cease for the next nine months till the deed
doth expire, where by this witch a taw hook cans ass (ours) will be freed
of renting a long and fostered, roach and fox infested, century21
from once salient sympathetic ear this now manifested Scrooge like greed
reminding us (essentially via cessation of any interaction),
how she once did heed
to our various and sundry travails – though neither myself nor spouse,
the latter whose vociferousness regularly exudes loathsomeness
toward key per, once a vouch saving storied angel without fail and indeed
wife tis not shy to vent where a plethora of expletives lead
rant and rave toward an impending crisis that will me send out an SOS
ever felt compelled to join Hemlock society or drown sorrows in mead
yet disappointment arises, when formerly positive dynamic now im peed
did by reasons unbeknownst to me,
who feels grateful ye chanced to read
my babbling of poetically irrational from a regular Joe,
who doth not sport Harris Tweed
nor (despite any immediate intimations)
doth newt smoke booze nor drink week.
All blessing great and small come from God in heaven above. Many we see, know and love. Many just pass us by in life like a flying dove.
Abundance even when we were poor
Blessed everyday with much more
Cupboard you filled when I went to the store
Daily prayer upon life's shore
Enthusiastic for you I went to the bookstore
Finding a new book I adore
God sometimes I feel like I am in a war
Happy when you bring peace to my seashore
I know you have all the answers I am looking for
July you married us my Lord
Knitted us in one accord
Love kept us from Satan's sword
Many days life was like a checkerboard
Never stopped blessing me and I was floored
Over and over you were my reward
Praying for things we could not afford
Quick we could now pay the landlord
Remembering Thee I will never flee
Singing heavenly songs to Thee
Thee has brought me much more than brie
Us with you brings glee
Very happy I wish God we could have some tea
Weaving God's life with mine on my knee
Xmas I could not wait to see
Your blessings grow like a mighty oak tree
Zeal with thanks to the tenth degree
Date written: 7/15/2020
3 Place SHARE YOUR BLESSINGS POETICALLY Contest Judged: 8/18/2020 Sponsored by: Beata Agustin
The following initially crafted approximately three and a half years ago and presently brought a much sought after surge of satisfaction while meandering along the information superhighway.
Panglossian Perspective
Pivoting Poze Pretentiously
Pacific, pacifist pampered papa
parading par excellent paragon
parent (parenthetically parochial
particularly partisan) parvenu
passive, passionately paternalistically patient,
paunchy, peaceably pepped, perfectionist,
perceptive, perennially perky, permissively
persevering, persistently personable,
perspicuous, pertinent, phenomenally philanthropic, philharmonic
picturesquely pious, pioneering, piquantly pithy,
playfully pleasant, pleasurably plucky, plummy,
poetically poignant, politely pontificating, popular,
positively potent, powerfully practiced pragmatist,
praiseworthy, prayerfully precious, precise
predominant, preeminently preferable, preparedly
preponderant, presently president, prestigiously
prevailing, priceless, princely, principally pristine,
privately privileged, prized,
proactively procreative,
prodigiously productive, proficiently profitable,
progressively prominent, promisingly prompt,
prophetically propitious, prospectively protective,
proudly proven provocative,
prudently psyched, puissant,
punctilious, punctually purposeful pygmy.
At the Feet of the Goddess
by Michael R. Burch
“What will you conceive in me?”—
I asked her. But she
only smiled.
“Naked, I bore your child
when the wolf wind howled,
when the cold moon scowled . . .
naked, and gladly.”
“What will become of me?”—
I asked her, as she
absently stroked my hand.
Centuries later, I understand:
she whispered—“I Am.”
Published by Romantics Quarterly (the first poem in the first issue), Penny Dreadful, Unlikely Stories, Underground Poets, Poetically Speaking, Poetry Life & Times, Little Brown Poetry. Keywords/Tags: Muse, Goddess, Erato, Beloved, poetic, lyric, divinity, Orpheus, Sappho, poems, Poetess, poets, poetry, inspiration, God
The Stars Have Had It with Me
Oh, No!
Orion came here last night in a fury!
And wow, he took me to task!
I cannot repeat the words he said to me.
Alas, not even is jest!
But he warned me, in a saturnine
way, to grow rhapsodically!
And to stop using he and stars in the
constellation, so endlessly, poetically.
Oh, inside, I was quite choleric!
I tried in vain to explain, that stars
and even butterflies,
Are the bedrock of many poems.
Alas, not any sympathy was I shown!
At which point,Orion had it with me.
And in a kaleidoscopic mantle,disappeared!
With a shimmering gold dictionary and silvered thesaurus, Orion has left for me.
There...In the moonshine ever so gleaming
Under the arms of a loving evergreen tree.
I will follow Orion's advice
Discover topics truly meaningful~
And put the word "stars" on ice!
Using English words, I hope...
That are truly lovely and purposeful.
Panagiota Romios
4/26/2019
10::30am PST
Fading Shadow
Just as a memory I seem to be a thing of the past
Never ever being first seemingly always last
I am sort of like your shadow forever walking with you
Faded within your background the unspoken forever true
Waiting for the chances you swore were yet to come
Only to see them taken now alone poetically numb
Sorry that I refuse to be your beck whenever you call
I am the only one strong enough to catch you when you fall
Maybe you need that release so your angry side never wins
Or are you just looking for unhappiness all over again
The pain felt as you fuss over your new insignificant other
I thought I was the one remember, "The Worlds Greatest Lover"
Loyalty has cost me precious things that never can be repaid
So within the depths of your shadows away I'll slowly fade
bmdavey@2012
How do you define love?
I mean what is it really,
How can I feel so much love for so many
people here that I barely know
...because I do.
You have all been so kind and accepting of me.
Many of you know how I feel.
That I know I am not a poet.
I am not fishing for a compliment when I say this.
I know how kind you all are.
People have been more than complimentary
of my work here.
It is how I feel and I do not want to get
long winded as to why.
It is what it is.
You have an amazing community here
don't let any one trample over it.
Keep supporting one another
Keep your loving ways.
No matter your religious beliefs
there is a light here that shines bright.
So I won't impose my beliefs but I think
I can safely say without offending
anyone this community is blessed.
Forgive those who stray, many of us here
are bruised some worse than others. We
make errors. Again I love the people here.
All the people here.
I have not been able to comment on others poetry
as much as I have wanted to of late.
I am especially sorry to my friends whose poetry
I have not frequented lately. How rude of me.
Everyone deserves their wonderful poetry read.
No excuses just I am sorry.
I want to thank all the people who placed me
in their contests and also thank those who
didn't. I believe in my heart of hearts people
always judged fairly. Sponsoring contests
is difficult everyone second guesses you.
In retrospect I learned and I grew from every
experience. Thank You.
So my loving friends, I am not here to say goodbye.
I am here to say au revoir!
I will be taking a small break from Poetry Soup.
I hope to return soon. To learn my limits poetically
and to stay within them. Enter less contests,
read more, comment more and post less.
I don't know how I can thank you all for your
unconditional kindness.
So many of you have touched my heart,
made me cry.
Sometimes sad, sometimes happy tears.
I am sorry because it is hard for me not
to love you all so much and I know it
must sound insincere but it is me
this is my heart, this is who I am
I love you because of your poetry,
because of your comments,
because you supported me even in my blindness
held my hand and showed me a path I could walk on.
How do you thank someone for that.
With All My Love Always,
Armand.
Here wood-shedding in the cave,
my mind seems to have gone into
an eerie state of suspended animation;
leaving words sitting around and chatting
as if they were in an induced drunken stupor.
When aroused, they seem to rise up
and hop onto a lexical merry-go-round;
or just sit there screaming as if in a dangling
seat of a stalled fairish wheel jammed in mid-air.
Being poetically comatose is
a revelation of the vacuous nature
of spiritless weaving of words void of
purpose—whorl pooling emptiness sinking
deeper into illusionary nothingness.
Pregnant poetic minds do not just exist;
rather, they are living realities of the fertilization
of fertile wordings anchored in endometrial
contemplative cognitive growth.
The poem is not merely a mental ejaculation;
rather, it’s the result of spiritual incubation in
the mind’s womb and when the Supreme Creator
deems so, it is delivered:
the she-shed and man-cave are mere waiting rooms.