Long Punctuating Poems
Long Punctuating Poems. Below are the most popular long Punctuating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Punctuating poems by poem length and keyword.
the s p a c e between us,
is lined with full stops
and wistful questions~
tucked within "inverted commas"
of w e e p i n g stars,
but I'm lost in
suffocating s i l e n c e...
t h i n k i n g
l o n g i n g
d r e a m i n g...
as Y o u, my beloved
are enough...the poetic pause
breathing between
stellar heartbeats
of the mourning sky~
punctuating promises
mirroring the magnetic
equations of l o v e ~
a cosmic pyramid
glazed with pearl-dust
as herbs of henna
soothe this soul
swollen with g r a t i t u d e
sipping midnight mocktails
like a dressed devotee
worshipping the aura of roses
within serene scriptures ...
I sit here waiting for maybe a little appreciation,
I'm not asking for much just a little recognition,
from my fellow poets. I am the poem speaking to
you right now.
My writer has spent grueling hours creating, developing,
imagining, spelling, rhyming, punctuating, you get the
picture. Enormous effort not being recognized.
He is so excited to show me off. Wanting to share me
with everyone. Not one is commenting, I'm so sad. He's
so sad.
I sit here waiting patiently to hear from you. You
see, all this work doesn't mean anything, unless you
notice me, you show me love and appreciation.
I'm going crazy as I sit here waiting. Oh please won't
you take a peek at me. It's only a minute of your
valued time. Just one small comment will bring
joy to me and my writer.
I sit here in torment. All this effort making me
and no one is noticing. I feel for my writer he
almost feels like it's a wasted effort. Prove him wrong
poets, read me please
Hey wait a minute someone noticed me. Oh thank
you for taking the time to read me. Thank you so
much for your comment. I hope someone notices
your poem like you noticed me.
Michael Tor 9/16/2015
Comments mean so much to us poets.
Please show your appreciation and
spread the love with your thoughtful
comments. Thank you.
.
Double-dutch ropes slap the sidewalk -
snap - snap - snap -
braids whip air,
girls jump in, counting
uno, dos, three,
feet flick like drumsticks.
The ice cream truck jingles off-key,
icy lady shakes paper cups,
piragua man shaves ice into snow -
his knife scraping the block awake.
Pastelillos pop in hot oil -
spit, sizzle -
plastic cups clink with rum and cola,
congas crack, maracas shake salt in the air,
horns blare like chisme in heat.
Heels click-clack over concrete -
punctuating each spin,
each swirl of hips.
Whistles split the air -
one from the lifeguard at Jefferson,
two from the men on the corner,
three from abuela
when the coals are hot.
Somebody throws meat on the grill -
ssszzzz -
smoke climbs windows,
neighbors bring foil trays -
yellow rice, ribs, roasted corn -
each dish a downbeat.
Kids yell cannonball,
water smacks back,
lifeguard’s whistle cuts through splash.
Old heads tap dominoes on tabletops -
crack, slap, smack -
hands older than the stoops they sit on.
The block fills itself
the way music fills a drum -
the street hums under bare feet.
Tonight,
the moon will smell like charcoal
and sweet ice.
Carte blanche,
this scribe bandies, exercises,
and indulges inexplicable gravitas
drooling, extolling, and fielding greatness,
frothing handily, indubitably jinxed,
linkedin as some lingual philanderer,
which oral intercourse,
this sensate being suckles
figuratively das bosom
sans mother tongue i.e. english language
unbeknownst to this cobbler,
dabbler and fiddler with rhetoric
why those twenty six letters constituting
sole lingua franca known to him,
admittedly beheld captivate, fascinated,
genuflecting, high handedly
inflated educated cerebral cortex
aflame with fiery passion
asper language affianced to himself,
liberal minded radiant,
redolent and rudimentary scribe,
who would book chartered flight
per voluminous Goddess
to the ends of the Earth demonstrating,
hallucinating and punctuating affinity,
cupidity energetically gravitating ingratiation
knowingly manumission
only pleases queen rhetoric,
she thrives unequivocally
viz warbling xeroxed yapping
zestfully, amorously and beatifically,
charming dame, entrances fixation,
germinating hypnosis,
idyllically juicing kinetic love
mister nonestablishmentarian
obliquely producing
quintessential rhapsodies,
sonnets, rhyme less threnody
uber veneration towards prosaic
radiant, redolent romantic
in tryst ting worthily winsome weaver
doth frigate gently heaves illustrious,
joyous, kindness
livingsocial, merrily opportunistically profligate
overlooking many averse trait
viz zit ting this absolute brute,
cheating discrete envoy,
fantasizing glorious hedonistic insurmountable
barbed, blackened, and jazzed ken,
when, even as a haploid male or female germ cell
able to unite with another of the opposite sex
engendered genetically inherent
kickstarter mature oldster
quacking sociological product
tete a tete paramour the
reason aye wrote this poem.
In each thought
A vision, a memory, a little
Hope and faith, inspiration
Sometimes grace,
Peaceful whispers, smiles
Riding on the backs of light
Soft and flowing, glowing
Like insight, so bright
Dazzling waves of lasting
Sighs, silence breathing
Its shadow, hushing
Away all the darkness, the
Night, the soul’s melancholic
Falling away from the mind
Losing the battle for life
Without sorrow,
Life with no color, only gray
Laughing beyond the seas
Where joy beckons,
Caressing the eventide
With wings of feelings, so gentle
Erasing the wistful, blending
Truth and God’s will
So we can all know what it is
To give from the heart,
Pieces of hope, fragments
Like shards of our glassy memories
Bringing the mind sensitivity,
Adventure, the ability to restore
All the love that came before
The anxiety, the worry that assured
Souls of the mania who knows
This is life, who abides in the dream,
Life’s fantasy – will we ever see
This color, in hues of light,
Falling like rain, punctuating liquid
Wishes, welcoming starlight
Reflections shimmering in the dew
Erasing all the mystery with
The news that we are His creativity
Creations, visions, the reasons
He loves us without any conditions
We are the children and He is the meaning
Beneath prayers, convictions, praying
For the light who pours out love over the heart
The wonder who abides in souls who hope
Like there is only one hope and we can know
Without a doubt, it is His joy to bless us
With the warmth that covers us in His acceptance
Living death ,hotel for hypochondriacs?
Where there are rarely empty beds
But some bodies may soon be.
Bright curtains are there for all
To screen their shame and pain,
Though the final curtain will surely
On some soon fall..
Blue-jacketed staff breezily
Glide about their tasks
Smoothly and swiftly
Until becalmed by a lull
At the nursing station
Before a maelstrom erupts.
Suddenly a sour smell wrinkles noses
And the team sweeps into action.
Soothing and rancourless,
"You're a terrible man!"we hear them say
As they set about erasing
The evidence of soiled humanity.
Yet we see their neurosis
Over death-defiling bugs
In the continued wiping
Of bed rails and curtains of grime
And then there is peace
In our time.
There will be other flurries,
Punctuating regular routine
But, respite gained,they relax.
A question about the time ,
Is met with,"Ten past s***e!"
Cathartic laughter refreshes
Them for the long ,long night .
As the bus rode
through the molting pine forest and
the crumbling ochre rock formations;
bits of colorful cellophane litter brought the only relief to the eye.
Inside, behind a profusion of people,
boxes, backpacks and assorted baggage
babies slept.
The bus creaked, shook and groaned
its way down the serpentine,
asphalt, mountain track.
Passengers chattered away in Indian, Nepalese, Danish and English,
abrasively punctuating
a Universal discourse;
As the vehicle draped from roof to bumper,
careened from rock walls
to sheer ledges, beeping.
Stray pets and wayward cyclist dodged its downward flight
Into the valleys maw.
Quite mild winter weather bourne this way
within environs of Perkiomen Valley
since latter months of 2021,
but also since me
January 13th, 2022 birthday,
I predict minimal snowfall
for remainder of 2022 winter,
what with just couple weeks
until Spring Equinox.
Within lil more'n a fortnight,
as tempestuous slam
dunk March madness closes curtain call
“in like a lion, out like a lamb,”
twill hove tested survivability,
asper flora, thru harsh winter, and
those most see ring robust will pass exam
unbridled love bursting asunder
cavorting, frolicing, instigating
wham bam thank you ma'am
lollygagging, orchestrating, romancing
while birds and bees pollinate jam
ming, humming, fostering sensational slam
dance, where flora lifts, wafts, and yawps
invoke warble, gurgle,
burble from baby in pram.
Meanwhile latent Mother Earth
quite pregnant with
multifarious potent new life
vermilion, violet ready to burst
asunder from Gaia's girth
dramatically altering landscape
with expectant birth
of animal and plant species distilled
within crucible, sans terra firma hearth
quite a contrast, when
polar vortex wrought dearth
whence Spring begets plenti
kindling, snapchatting, and twittering mirth.
Also uniquely designed hue man
denizens of every stripe nurse
tender affection expressing
amorous poetry and verse
rejoicing, the dead of winter,
and attendant frostbite curse
frozen folks felled, thence carried
away in horse drawn hearse,
where heavy grief ameliorated
as natural holistic
narcotic brings pacific
balm, calm, and psalm snapping,
crackling, and popping
wide web with electric
ambient ancient, yet contemporary music
punctuating the air with lulling lyric
since time immemorial
recognized as greatest soporific
equally savored, whether
devout or atheistic
nonpareil eclectic dreamy
harmonic melange cathartic
aural, diurnal, integral
quintessentially converging harmonic,
democratic, and anthemic
congregation replete with fantastic
incorporation, viz diversity galactic!
Angry fists pommel a defenseless face;
racial slurs punctuating each black eye.
And as punches start to increase in pace,
a black man collapses; and boots let fly.
I've seen hate.
The needle twitches as you inject death;
while chasing a high, you slip into shock.
And overdosing, you gasp for each breath,
drowning in your vomit while strangers gawk.
I've seen fear.
Staring at the past as it disappears;
having lost yourself, you live on the street.
And a vacant look lingers past the tears,
as you sacrifice pride, and face defeat.
I've seen sad.
While an injured soldier cries out in pain,
a medic responds; undeterred by fear.
And his uniform is a blood-soaked stain;
as he tends to the wound, then drags him clear.
I've seen brave.
Icy currents grip the boy like a vise;
immediately, his mother jumps in.
And when frantic rubs no longer suffice,
she warms him up next to her naked skin.
I've seen love.
An infant is born an innocent dove;
with skin so soft it almost seems to melt.
And triggering unconditional love,
this babe embodies feelings deeply felt.
I've seen hope.
No particular rhyme nor,
reason explains to boot
within mind of this (boyish
looking) ole coot,
why sudden flashback didst
kickstart metered metrical foot
when during bout with anorexia nervosa,
I did not give a hoot
analogously harried and swiftly kicked
with barebones styled tailored jackboot.
Said eating disorder, sans
self starvation arose
without explicit explanation
this grown man tries
till he gets himself bluenose
to recapitulate an ill fate,
he conveniently chose
still baffled, thus
without aversion disclose,
silence of echoes
confidential matter
I willingly expose,
said trauma that
nearly did foreclose
emotionally mortgaged corporeal property
boarded figurative
windows, whereat up goes
for sale sign testament to
recalcitrant stalwart hardnose
father and mother felt
obligation to interpose
lest premature demise,
would invariably juxtapose
dealing mortal psychological
(albeit unfair) blow
to parents plus two sisterly kiddoses
perhaps family pets (cats and dogs),
whose meows and lows
punctuating equilibrium
volunteering, (when suicide
gripped stranglehold)
spurring personal tragedy
with sincere manifestoes
(mainly not a verse
to dabble with poetry)
striving to cater to nonheroes
to thwart tragedy, whose nose
(mine) sniffs fallout mainly upon me
woebegotten life somber
(time to cue oboes),
asper the plethora of
influences that predispose
one in the throes
of adolescent experiencing
oh ma dog...gushing hormones
analogous to young lives
loose then taut like mama's yoyos!