Long Reused Poems
Long Reused Poems. Below are the most popular long Reused by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reused poems by poem length and keyword.
Yarn
Lovely…
soft material,
skeins, in colors…
of every hue.
Beauty captured…
in both fine,
and rough textures.
The possibilities…
the dreams;
held tightly,
in simple paper strips.
Wrappers showing…
measured weights,
and lengths
displayed.
The maker,
the vender…
and
the hopeful
tender,
of sheep.
The promise…
the action of sacrifice
of time spent,
learnng…
Practicing,
the skill and craft.
The precious twine,
the rope of variance;
sky blue, warm summer yellow…
all used and reused,
to make things…,
wonderful…
things!
Items to help keep,
loved ones stay warm.
Goods… to sell,
or even, perhaps give away…
to those, in need.
I love yarn.
We dump waste
To recycle, remade or reuse
But we hide our feelings deep in the heart
Never mean for recycling
Happiness to be appreciated, to be remembered
And sadness to be discarded
Or to be transformed into an experience or a lesson
We keep our knowledge in mind
Never to be polished after retirement
But the world is changing every minute
Some old knowledge have to be
Recycled, improved, reused or discarded
We adopted old habits and beliefs
Without ever dropping them
But old habits and beliefs have to be sieved
Those beneficial and true remain
Recycling will yield experience, new knowledge and truth
Which will indeed lead to a happier life
Answers were needed, like wind direction,
she could feel him heavy in her heartbeat,
it was a good weight, the kind carelessness brings to capricious carress,
his toe prints still in the trail of beach paths in her fantasy's shores,
were his words an omen of futurity's obsession,
is his face a language for love or lust,
could there be blessings in knowing his total nature,
is he alive as art in her soul, or is he a bore when brought before her banquet,
to the mountain mystic she journeyed with joltings in her guessings,
a Seer who fed the mountains spirit syrup from a collection of wasted wants
spread forth by reused wine bottles, labels changed but all blue from experiences,
the gypsy, to wise to be pretty, and too natural to be ugly
enquired of the woman with youth as a weapon and curiosity as a concern,
"What is the most dangerous thing you've ever done?",
and she replied, 'falling in love', smiling out of embarrassment,
the gypsy smiled too, remembering all that,
after being given the man's name, a simple photo, and a birth date
she stared into Time gone missing, exhaled from a soft stun
and told the inquisitive girl,
"He'll meet you in these mountains,
where gypsies speak of love in cards and legacies in crystals..."
J.A.B.
The movers came to clean out my house,
And said to one another
“Let’s remove ALL the furniture!
The baby carriage and accessories
have served their purpose.
That old stuff is nothing but clutter now.
Don’t let the mother see us
take everything out.
She might want to save her heirlooms:
uterus, cervix, tubes and ovaries.
They really must go,
and it’s better to move them all at once.
Let’s make it quick.
We’ve got other cleaning jobs today, too.”
My baby’s room is empty.
The movers sealed off the space and left.
Where did my baby furniture go?
Was it handled with utmost care?
Will it be reused or recycled?
As owner for decades,
why did I believe their “better out than in”
prevention strategy and problem-solving remedy?
Who decided that I could live
without furniture anyway?
Will that area of my house shrink
for lack of occupancy?
Will the vacuum bring ecstasy, grief or pain?
Will the plumbing to my bathroom expand?
Hist er rec to me!
Does anyone understand why the head of my house
grapples with questions at hand?
DISHES OF THE DAY - POETRY
Happiness à priori
Health well done
Peace to the right point
Love at will (á la volonté)... !
Even obvious lines
make sense
Abstract Ingredients,
they give concrete juice ...
The invisible becomes as dense
as the visible ...
Unused rejects,
reused are ...
Discarded
has also its time ...
Having some substance,
It's okay, it's not soup.
of stone ...
All together, it takes
to the cauldron in a water bath!
After cooking
in this soft fire,
cool down, and become
the table....
The poem is ready
al dente, primo canto...
Are you all served ...!?
Because She Craved the Very Best
by Michael R. Burch
Because she craved the very best,
he took her East, he took her West;
he took her where there were no wars
and brought her bright bouquets of stars,
the blush and fragrances of roses,
the hush an evening sky imposes,
moonbeams pale and garlands rare,
and golden combs to match her hair,
a nightingale to sing all night,
white wings, to let her soul take flight ...
She stabbed him with a poisoned sting
and as he lay there dying,
she screamed, "I wanted everything!"
and started crying.
Keywords/Tags: Rose, Roses, Flowers, Materialism, Possessions, Shallow, Shallowness, Greedy, Greediness, Desire, Lust, Craving, Cravings, Gift, Gifts, Gift-Giving, Ingratitude, Ungrateful, Ungratefulness, Pomp, Circumstance
What The Roses Don’t Say
by Michael R. Burch
Oblivious to love, the roses bloom
and never touch . . . They gather calm and still
to watch the busy insects swarm their leaves . . .
They sway, bemused . . . till rain falls with a chill
stark premonition: ice! . . . and then they twitch
in shock at every outrage . . . Soon they’ll blush
a paler scarlet, humbled in their beds,
for they’ll be naked; worse, their leaves will droop,
their petals quickly wither . . . Spindly thorns
are poor defense against the winter’s onslaught . . .
No, they are roses. Men should be afraid.
The Monarch’s Rose or The Hedgerow Rose
by Michael R. Burch
I lead you here to pluck this florid rose
still tethered to its post, a dreary mass
propped up to stiff attention, winsome-thorned
(what hand was ever daunted less to touch
such flame, in blatant disregard of all
but atavistic beauty)? Does this rose
not symbolize our love? But as I place
its emblem to your breast, how can this poem,
long centuries deflowered, not debase
all art, if merely genuine, but not
“original”? Love, how can reused words
though frailer than all petals, bent by air
to lovelier contortions, still persist,
defying even gravity? For here
beat Monarch’s wings: they rise on emptiness!
When
a part
of body does
not function properly it can
be repaired, replaced. We are neither
body nor a part of body
We are
soul
When
we find
it difficult
to breathe, artificial
respiration keeps us alive.
This proves we are not the breath. When soul leaves
our body we are declared dead
We are
soul
Our
body
does not work on
its own. Soul seated in
the heart manages all internal
activities of body. Our soul is
fragmental part of God's body
We are
soul
When
we die
our body does
not go away. All can
see it with their eyes. All organs
can be reused in another body.
Body does not die but we die.
We are
soul
Our
body
is a garment
worn by soul. When soul leaves
our body, the body dies. Soul
gets a new body, a new birth. This goes
on until we get salvation
We are
soul
References from Bhagvad Gita
BG 15.7: The embodied souls in this material world are My eternal fragmental parts. But bound by material nature, they are struggling with the six senses including the mind.
BG 15.14: It is I who take the form of the fire of digestion in the stomachs of all living beings, and combine with the incoming and outgoing breaths, to digest and assimilate the four kinds of foods.
BG 2.22: As a person sheds worn-out garments and wears new ones, likewise, at the time of death, the soul casts off its worn-out body and enters a new body
1 Corinthians 3:16 : Do you not know that you are a temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you
28.06.2021
Submitted to Ring My Bell contest by John Anderson
Syllable count checked at PS syllables counter
Yes…recycling is a good thing
Why let something valuable
Become a complete waste
Depleting resources
Already scarce
Why waste
When it can be salvaged
Remixed
Redone
Reused
True, true
But don’t you dare do that with love
Don’t you dare even think
To give me
Your recycled love
With me, all the material must be new
FRESH, CRISP, CLEAN expressions of love
Material that is then made into something beautiful
Custom made just for me…
Fit to allure the woman I AM…UNIQUELY ME
No tried and true methods to woo
No erogenous spots navigation
According to someone else's old map
No…every woman is different
With different guide
To the hidden treasure...
No….with me…
It's all got to be
Pristine, pure, virgin
Like a clear mountain stream
Or the unpolluted air
PURE
No recycled words
No recycled haunts you took HER to
No recycled love songs…that you used to make HER melt
I have an inner song that defies anything you can play
You will only hear it
When you get to know MY soul
I melt in different ways
I love different words
I see different colors
I visit different places
I hear different music
I WANT A LOVE THAT IS…..FRESH!!!!
Unrecycled
Pure
Clean
Clear
Of any past references...
I want the resources of your heart
JUST OR ME
To be used with abandon
For they are a renewable resources
Always available
Alwayas a new supply
Always ready to be used
To create beauty
To attract
To entice
To capture
ME…
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I do not buy a Christmas tree
(I’m Jewish, after all)
Yet wonder every year as people
Trundle with their haul.
What makes them buy one weeks before
Or just on Christmas eve?
Is Norway spruce or Douglas fir
The best with which to leave?
Do ceiling heights determine
If they splurge on one real tall?
Will it decorate the living room,
The entryway or hall?
I know that boxed-up ornaments
Are meant to be reused.
Will new ones join the party, though?
(I’m just a bit confused.)
My neighborhood is filled with stands
Of evergreens in wait,
So questions bounce inside my brain
Each year around this date.
STUFF IT!!
Want IT! Gotta have IT! Need IT!
Can’t be the only one without IT!
I’m entitled to IT!!
In ten years I’ve gone through 15 “phones”,
amassed a collection of 35 pairs of shoes and boots,
joined the recycling and environmental clubs,
put solar panels on my roof, and a fire pit in my yard.
I ride my bicycle to the golf course and Yacht Club.
WHAT!!! YOU SAY I DON’T NEED IT!!!
I should downsize, outsource, repurpose
the box I think I think outside of….
Stop being the source of high end pollution
at both ends – creation and destruction.
Where will we put the flotsam and jetsam of our lives??
How about in the proper recycling containers,
finding some place where they can be reused, repurposed.
The next time you Want IT!
Gotta have IT!
Need IT!
STUFF IT!!!
6/10/2015
For Stuff Contest