Long Romanticizing Poems
Long Romanticizing Poems. Below are the most popular long Romanticizing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Romanticizing poems by poem length and keyword.
Meat galore going for cheap in the stores, meat galore piling up on your shore. I cannot believe that the world is starving when tons of chickens and assorted meats are scattered everywhere in the street.
The loaded truck overturned spilling packages of meat on the ground, lining the sidewalks and filling the gully, everyone is moving in a hurry.
The truck driver was lucky to come out alive so he calls the people to have a feast with the raw meat. He said that he could not reload the truck because the meat had picked up dust and the insurance would pay for it, and so he waited for the wrecker to come and pull up the truck. People start jumping in bushes loading their bags and boxes and anything that they could find to stuff the meat.
Let everyone come and eat, pull the covers off your feet, sprinkle water on your face and get ready to start a brand-new race. There is plenty of meat to eat, pork chops, veal, and beef, mutton, pork ribs, and whale, kangaroo meat cooked with brown rice and delicate frog legs sent as a gift from Paris. Let everyone come and eat there is plenty of meat to eat.
The dogs are barking, the roosters are crowing and the hens are dining and romanticizing. This is the period for the hens and so you have leave the lion's den before the clock struck ten.
The mice are running around on the floor and they are climbing through the door, they are running up and down the wall with food in their mouths and cookies stuck in their throat .When the hens are away the mice will definitely play, puss in boots has several meals to choose and just as I speak of it the cat captured it with its swollen lips. Let everybody come and eat.
Mr. Charity is no stranger he is a mega donor you will not be short of anything when you move in with the timing. There are lots of things to share but Mr. Charity is on the run because has accumulated a fortune in the hot sun.
He has created fake web pages to channel money from all races, he has a secret bank account to run short errands in the town and when he accumulates enough, he stuffs his gut and run and the website disappeared. Let everyone come eat, good meat is wasting in the street.
you crawl the wicked shoreline
looking to begin
in sea-snail-soft surrender
curled on fours ~
courting the soprano’s sorcery
while skin of sky remains
chained to the esoteric externa
aching amidst love’s veins
caressing the curvaceous
corners ~ my clawed constant,
O perfect panacea
the pulse that throbs
in sync with
sage thunder ~
write to my soul
speak to the inner sibyl
tell my quiescent quill ~
I am right
you belong to the
deep prophetess poetry
of my heart tonight
reveal
the life-lane
receive
the addictive potion …
I know the tantalizing
terminology ~
the art of romanticizing rain
to tranquilize the fears
between petal-kohl clouds
turning vulnerability into
verses voluptuous
for I face the
heat of saffron stars
like a black dahlia
longing to be traced
without a word
to be learned as the
law of arced lines
I shall crown you king
in valleys of vibrance
where vines harmonize
my silhouette’s silence
igniting twilight limbs
pleading to obey
the river’s rhythm ~
fingers f l o w i n g
into warm interstellar field ~
trust, flagged and inked
like vertical vibratos …
Cinnamalls all in bloom
Their bright colors eliminate the gloom
Muffinflies buzzing around
Bumblesnake rattles a new sound
The razzle vines love to climb
They will reach the sky given time
The Bibiannas all purple, yellow, and red
Make sure all the birds are feed
The smell is tantalizing
Which leaves one fantasizing
With thoughts romanticizing
Of evenings scandelizing
The tigerphant lets off a sneeze
Due to the pollen in the breeze
The monkabear hangs from his knees
As he plays within the trees
The muskrays are in the sun
Dancing around and having fun
The wonkawils have no means
As they lay within the leaves
The water reaches the vines
Feeding flowers and creatures of all kinds
When the sun is right
The water sparkles so bright
This special garden grown just for you
A perfect place for two
With all the flowers in bloom
All covered in the morning dew
Romanticizing inside my lone mindset
Hypnotizing myself until I get upset
Abide by my side and hold me oh so close — I chose to be sincerely happy I suppose
Handsome groom and beautiful bride hold hands high together, kissing nose to nose
Hands interlock and intertwine
Soon enough, you’ll be mine
It’s divine that you and I are fine and doing better
Till the day I die and you live to hold on forever…
Hands held high together
Understand that I’m a shield for your sanity’s sake
Running errands and exploring each other
Hands held high together
Understanding each other
Forever…I do adore you
Never forget our amen adieu
Remembering the good times we spent,
Wondering to myself how things went
Sharing our lovely love together forever is a wish and prayer I have for us two
Before we do our vows and love ascending amends and our little amen adieu
Hands interlock and intertwine
Soon enough, you’ll be mine
It’s divine that you and I are fine and doing better
Till the day I die and you live to hold on forever…
Hands held high together
Understand that I’m a shield for your sanity’s sake
Running errands and exploring each other
Hands held high together
Understanding each other
Forever…I do adore you
Never forget our amen adieu
Get a hold of me…hold onto me…
Grasp me softly, yet passionately
Get along with me and you’ll see
I’m hopeful I won’t relapse lonely
Hands held high together
We are like a bird of a feather
We bid our amen adieu…I vow, won’t lie —
We are an embracing view…you and I…
I was told I was many things
and yet no one asked what I felt like in my own body
they said those stretched marks on my belly,
made me manly
They said my ears were pointy, almost inhuman
and for the first time, I wasn't offended
infact I agreed
maybe that's why I ran to women instead
they understood better, I said
never knew it was called love
well not in that kind of way,
till I saw her undress, and I felt a sense of admiration, sensation, as if I didn't have the same body
and for a while, I questioned myself
for having these thoughts towards her
and yet my mind seemed to be drawn to her, I wondered if it was love
but how could I look her in the face
and say I'm in love with her
And maybe I didn't need permission
to love her the way I did
It just had to show through the way I listened,I spoke
In the way my attention shifted to her eyes
like I was enthralled by a painting
but she was my landscape, no bad thoughts, just pure love, I said
Then I realized it wasn't just her, I looked that way,
that I enjoyed the touch of a woman
like would a man
And for a while I looked at myself in the mirror
wondering if this is who I really was
if it was possible for a woman to remember another's figure and explain it so vividly
not just that, but the kind who failed to remember her own brother's features
I wondered if it was wrong to wear hoodies and biggies and never a dress
even when going to church
I wondered if I had failed my own mother
for all she spoke about was marriage
though not specific, I doubt she would think of a woman
And yet that didn't stop me
from buying a woman flowers
they didn't mean much to me
guess it was just my body that's a woman and not my mind and soul
I liked romanticizing the thought of it.
I thought I left romanticizing the future in the past
I thought I left this life
I thought I left the life of worrying about what depths my present actions will result to
I thought I'd never be in a delicate situation again
I was wrong because I live remembering the past I thought I'd never see in my future
I thought I quit being in situations that let me think about my future being on the line
Now I stand faced by the fully awakened thoughts of my past
All this isn't bad per sa ,it's Just that I never thought I'd do it all over again and at this thought I never fail to suppress a smile
It breaks me
(A tired voice whispers)
It was 3 years ago that I first saw it in my long mirror.
A black dog watching in the shadows.
Then 6 months later, in full view but at a distance. Watching.
Now four years later, it's my best friend.
He follows me everywhere. Sleeps beside me, and lately I can hear him talking.
Talking about my father and about his end.
I went to see Old Shala, and she read my aura and said I was being stalked by a Lylak.
She asked if I had lost anyone. I said my wife, and she said depression had opened a portal, and it had gotten closer and closer.
So with her permission we had a ceremony. Candles, incantations, and incense.
Looking in her long mirror, I sensed and watched my only friend leave my side with sad heavy eyes, and slowly move away to the shadows.
When it was in the shadows, the mirror was suddenly broken, trapping it, and another thing happened, which I cannot say to this day.
I paid and left.
Now back alone.
I still see its red eyes in the dark.
Everywhere in my now empty home
Shall I call it out?
That old friend of mine or ring up my real friends?
(C) Copyright John Duffy
This poem is about:
Grief after losing a spouse.
Depression becoming identity.
The danger of romanticizing pain.
The loneliness that follows healing.
It does not glorify the darkness—it shows how seductive and persistent it can be.
The voice is reflective, aware, and conflicted. That self-awareness is what separates this from despair and turns it into literature.
For depression doesn’t vanish cleanly. Even after treatment or ritual:
Traces remain.
Fear of relapse lingers.
Familiar pain still “looks back” at you.
If you're feeling depressed, talk to someone. It will make all the difference. Try never to face anything alone. Salute.
If rain water could sing, as it fell from the gaping skies
Would we not have sought to dance outside
Naked and barefoot
Letting its words teleport our soul
Into dimensions we have never dared imagine!
If the sun could play an instrument, as it glared at us
Would we not have chosen to waltz
On every single day of our lives as long its rays would tickle us
Into elevated heights of joy transgressing space!
If the moon could paint, as it glowed, so gloriously in the dark sky
Would we not have posed in our most eccentric attire
Just to please it, so that, pleased with us
It would shine brighter and fill our bosoms with freshness!
Why, if Earth herself could mime
Would she have acted out sadness and dread
So as to make us realize the weight of our burden
As it pressed against her womb?
Pray, if time could speak, mind you
Would it have comforted us, as we worry incessantly
Or, would it have warned us, of the traps that lie ahead
Or would it simply have bid us to learn to live lightly and freely?
Pray, surrounding my ethos, are the sparkles of my whims
Compelled to toil in a fallen plane, they keep romanticizing
About the mystical and the mysterious, the uncontrollable
The unknown power which has made them as they are!
IN THE RAINBOW OF REINING JUSTICE
Red is the flowing blood of liberation;
Black is the blood that flows from arteries
of those systematically murdered and
denied justice by the systemic tools of
racism imposed upon hued lives walking,
running, driving, or merely standing still
in the land of the free and home of the brave.
Beneath its tarnished green hue, white
is the statue of liberty; and Ellis Island
welcoming stories tell tales of bigoted pride
that laid the foundation of founding fathers’
ease of documenting a declaration of racist
oppressive servitude of red-blooded blacks.
Thus became the red, white, and blue colors
of the racist inequality of an outlaw nation
with its counterfeit law and order legalities
that enabled it to nearly extinct one race and
enslave another—all in the name of liberty.
And while the written his-story of its startling
beginning has been a romanticizing saga of the
home of the free and equality for all, the truth
of such molded lies has been shattered upon the
red, white, and blue anvil of God’s promised justice.
Today, a rainbow cultured determined people—
energized with unique fueling of peace and love—now
seek to sterilize a recovering nation of its bigoted systemic
racist infestation; and remove from its socio-economic and
political systems, remaining cancerous tumors of varied hate.
Foundation.
An elegy and meditative reflection on the disturbing emotions created by loss.
Some suffer with in silence.
Rather than romanticizing the line — time will heal, it reflects the raw and unflinching pain.
Emphasizing the speaker’s agony while criticizing the simplistic assurances often offered.
A piece created to embody and stand as a witness to those whose inner despair persists, though they may seem fine on the outside.
The line relating that
grief is compared starkly to organized crime, portrays how love’s departure typically feels unjust, cruel, and violent—especially when someone beloved is gone.
Have you too heard the sometimes hollow echo, of well-meaning platitudes, that ring untrue to someone still deeply grieving?
Or even told someone, without really thinking, “time will heal, you'll see?”
Title.
The Woman lost to Marius.
(A lone voice whispers)
Some say time will heal, even though it doesn't seem real
And seeing is believing
But how can they see what you're feeling?
When you start grieving, while the black hearse of loving is leaving?
Leaving all once treasured things behind
Things like sweet love letters
Wedding rings
Perfume filled white sweaters
Memories and all things once kind and divine
Which once made your soul sing
So to me, it's a cruel lie, saying time will heal what I'm feeling
While I live through each day, alone now, but inside, quietly dieing
Listening to some still say
Seeing is believing, time will bring healing
And knowing
How can you see what I'm still feeling?
When I'm obviously still grieving?
After watching the black hearse of love, leaving
And quietly going out of my mind
Like a victim of organized crime
After your marriage to the hand, you once loved
Has run out of earthly time
And is no longer in your realm
Breathing
(C) Copyright John Duffy