Long Polishing Poems
Long Polishing Poems. Below are the most popular long Polishing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Polishing poems by poem length and keyword.
Hold my head up to the top
Keep polishing my flimsy flop
Hold my mind tight to think straight
That with my brain, both in league, inflate
Hold my thoughts to meet meanings
On the road out of the tunnel's screenings
Hold my heart to sink deep inside Yours
And stop wandering in canals' cures
Hold my chest at peace with Thy paints
Even if I am not one of those saints
Hold my hand; a tool to ink clues
That can save dying souls of blues
Hold my ears hostage to insure my heart
Which build up every muse into an art
Hold my nose to perceive the ugly
To rub off dirt nature embraces snugly
Hold my eyes to see how trouble unfolds
But never possibly know how it moulds
Hold my mouth to shout hallelujah
How I am set free of Delilah's hysteria
Hold my tongue to the deep end of judgement
With You only can I make proper adjustment
Hold my oesophagus to silent movement
That draws nearer pantry's abandonment
Hold my stomach to the manna
Of abundance on my Savannah
Hold my office to good use
To avoiding coincidental abuse
Hold my legs to walk in glory
Growing greatness, not story
Hold my nails to keep steadfastness steadily
In the face of peace like war, beeping readily
Hold my back to get Thee, Thy backing
Through grace, in cracking poster(s) tracking
Hold my all and it will be noticeably sure
In You alone, oh Lord lies every echt cure!
Hold my faults onto the everlasting cross
No one else is worthy to take Thy place, Boss
Well, it's inspection time again!
The Boys in the Barracks are wiping,
buffing, spit-polishing, belts and buckles...
Lest they feel the Wrath of their D.I.'s Knuckles!
Now, once they're all prepped and polished,
Some may soon find...their world demolished!
silence falls...Quick footsteps down the hall...
Not, One, Soul, Is, BREATHING...At ALL!
ATTEN-SHUN! BARRACKS READY FOR INSPECTION SIR!
AS YOU WERE CORPORAL! What Have We Got HERE?
You MAGGOTS! Look like something that...
Got PAID!, Got LAID!!, and then...Got...FRAPPE'D!!!
YOU...CALL...YOURSELVES...MARINES???
CUZ, I'VE GOT A BETTER DESCRIPTION!... LADIES!!!
PRIVATE KLUTZ!!!, STEP FORWARD!!!
THIS...is what the H, E, double Hockey Sticks...I MEAN!
What the HELL!...is that...GACK!!!...on your RACK???
It looks like...you Lost your PAY...Playing...POKER!!!
Couldn't AFFORD...to get...LAID!...
Couldn't AFFORD...to Get... FRAPPE'D!!!
Then YOU...told...ALL...The Others...YOUR BROTHERS!!!
YOUUU!...FELT SICK...BUT INSTEAD...WHIPPED YOUR WICK!!!
IF YOU PREFER TO BLOW...GUNK!!!...ON YOUR...BUNK!!!
THEN...SAVE YOUR GRAVY!!!...AND...JOIN...THE...NAVY!!!
AS YOU WERE...PRIVATE!!!
“Friends are like melons; shall I tell you why? To find a good one, you must one hundred try.” – Claude Mermet
Friends can be found at any age and in any mind.
Some leave a deep mark, others act out behind.
They're worn like clothes for maximum comfort.
Make changes every time for maximum effort.
Similar to cutting and polishing a stone pattern.
An edge can be polished into gems for a lantern.
Putting you in touch with potential long-term friends
Dazzling like precious jewels, life on them depends.
When shared ties are expected, intimacy is real.
I've seen many care deaths, yet friends conceal.
Mates are plentiful, but cash is tight as looks fade.
Just polite farewells—true friendship is shade.
Written: February 06, 2023
Proverbial Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
Come to me my eastern star, to your love mystery Avatar,
travel the path of my tantric wish to where touch is holy spectacular,
discover the dharma that has delivered the dream of Ardhanarishvara
into the spine of your psychosexual lifeline, the vine of divine quanta
polishing the pearl of vipassana embedded firmly in the crown of your psychic flora,
Bring with you the faith of infinite love fire
that fuels the physics of fantasy's fearless desire
votives of violet vibration, the birthright of a Lotus Queen
born between motives of midnight storms and sunrise rose opening,
we will ride the ancient equinox that lusts for our sacred senses uniting -
J.A.B.
The gnomes of olden times
carefully hung the sun
and moon up in the skies.
Growing gardens by their
light provided garlic,
and sweet pumpkin delights.
Hoards of squashes and gourds
for making many tools;
Gnomes are truly no fools.
Little ones planted seeds
and watered plants with care,
polishing leaves with zeal.
Foods baked with fluffy eggs
have textures that are best
a flavor-burst delight!
Elementals won’t rest
until they’ve grown the best;
herbaceous edibles.
Be grateful to wee folk
caring for your garden;
watch them not as they work.
For secrets must be kept
in Mother Nature’s vault;
the Gnomes will never tell.
Come rain or shine
The children of Penny Lane
Gather to play and while away
At Lady Madonna
Out polishing her front doorstep
Day by day
On her run down council tenement terrace house
She is so house proud
But expectant visitors never come
Nothing alive has crossed over
Since that letter was delivered
Notification her Husband and Son
Where alas no more
Casualties of war
Merely your country owes you a debt of gratitude sincerely sorry for your loss
With no body to repatriate nothing
to put in a coffin or bury she couldn't even
plan or mourn at their funeral
Eleanor Rigby
Where do they all the lonely people
Come from and go
God only knows the time and place
Polishing our mind is one of your goals
Assist not only students but people around you
Unfold our minds into reality,
Lighten our spirits to dream and pursues more.
Just any other man you are full of sense of humor
Outside the class you are like a father to us,
Strengthen our hearts when we feel low
Encourages everyone to study and glow,
Professor inside the university and full of respect you showed
Helping us to understand every lessons you blow.
You may be just any ordinary man
And mistakes sometimes are done,
Taking every challenges to success be made
Rises from every failure you take
In the end, the top is meet and break
Cease every chances, every minute and every day
Keep dreaming, keep running and keep shining!
Hope this simple poem made you smile
And remember us for a while
Many thanks is what i can say
One time you became part of my days
Yielding us to better man someday!
Digital Metamorphosis
Follow this diagram,
Flow with its geometric,
That is now heliocentric, the orbit.
All inversions of reactants cause:
In this Rubik's Cube function.
Our algorithms process.
Dissect your analysis.
This experiment has optical razor lenses illuminated.
While we socialize,
Having mobilized the crew.
To finalize what we now know.
Mapped in ink and electricity.
What some wanted to minimize.
Then naturalized its demise.
Was the dilemma for the prototype?
Sure, we all agreed.
Cutting off some curves:
Around the circles, two forms of shapes and sizes.
And polishing what remains.
This refraction yields fully.
Integrated systemic results.
Let us energize the data spills.
Morphing into a digital butterfly.
We notice as the sequence unfolds,
Holding our breath.
From her metric cycle,
A slow awakening begins.
Silicon-silk metamorphosis,
Finalizing its code,
Before she ascends.
Flying off into the network,
Quantum grid.
HONORABLE WINNER POEM
Allpoetry June 26
Contest Prompt: Tactile
_________________________
we watch red petals on velvet couch fall
pistils are blood cells raw opened
falling on white cushion watching
grey feathers from parrot fly satin
mohair filaments shy shiver wet
eating figs we tactile break juicy
stroking —
knifed you one loaf for eight
near and far you are my star
crazed or tranquil polishing brass
fingers tactile over my belly
sailing oceans with oil spills floating
ship hull slip waters feeling cold
stroking —
fish dying as gills ooze dna crawling
king then peasant or poet, know it
I feel skin tactile eating figs sticky
weaving words regretting regression
how you escape depths, visceral mate
Persephone presses for ocean peaches
stroking —
slippery scales tactile move slimy
sailors breaking bread on a blue deck
forefingers stroke thumb touching nerves
I watch enthralled tactile oysters slipping
shore with pink shrimp crawl urging
cell membranes stretch, waves rippling
stroking —
lick it
tactile
tender
__________________________
To the lady who sees me as I am,
To the lady who sees me as a book,
Turning through my pages,
Straightening its dog ears,
Reading between the lines.
To the lady to whom I stand as a mirror,
Reflecting beyond my charm and calm,
Reaching for the hidden part of me,
Seeing the night that comes to my room,
Knowing that I add stars to its sky.
To the lady who said I do,
Despite my shades and fades,
Polishing my weathered surface,
Waiting for my shrivelled meadow to bloom,
Anticipating the sprout of my feeble boughs.
To the lady who knows my mother has a pride of place in me,
She has read the ode I wrote to my mother,
But still knows that she’s not barricaded from my heart’s door,
The fragrance that pervades my room,
She’s the purple flower in my garden.
April 29, 2024.