Long Ropes Poems
Long Ropes Poems. Below are the most popular long Ropes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ropes poems by poem length and keyword.
How limited the page by set of sail…
I cannot come to you except, I tack,
I sail into the wind, the ropes all wail…
You’ve crossed the sea, now, and cannot come back.
Thus, Time blows in my face, bids me return,
And, there behind, a Fisherman hooks me…
The Sun, too bright, is sure my face to burn,
And all my grief is not enough to free
Me from the Veils that roundabout me swirl,
That hide you from my searching, test my mind,
To THINK! I’m rapt, and wrecked, over a girl…
The One I Married, who left me behind
To fly into the Sun with wings of wax,
And Orioles greet… I greet the ocean’s wracks…
Nightmares of a past I wished was long forgotten
Haunting my every waking moment again and very often
A mere child, jump ropes and swings were my delight
No knowledge of these things, that were for adults at night
Awakened from a childlike slumber, only to be touched and
Become so encumbered, fondled by the most immoral, corrupt
And vile man I will ever know. Family he was Supposed to be,
a horrible nightmare he had become to me.
For a long time it was as if it never transpired,
I thought it was wiped away from my mind, forever to be left behind
But deep in the dark recesses of a brain so mired
A place always avoided, it has became quite glaringly clear
That I couldn't break free from the violation of that year.
To this day over forty plus years, my thoughts always become full of sorrow,
Anguish and anger for that little girl and the sadness that would follow.
As you journey under the sun;
Differing people you meet.
There are those who walk into your life,
And reveal the beauty engulfing the fruits of life.
There are those who share leaps of their dreams,
Encouraging you not to dream, but wake yours.
Those through their perseverance to up their lives,
Show that diligence really pays.
You are bound to meet others,
Whose lives revolve around service-
Their one goal- to make a difference in others’ lives
And perhaps their loyalty to change, however tiny,
Shows, everyone has a role of service in the life’s script.
Through the mockery and criticism of some,
A stronger character within you might evolve.
The tribulations of some-
How the try to keep the light in their eyes from withering,
Gives you the courage to hold on to the ropes of life.
Those, whose faces are wrinkled with uncertainties,
Of shadowy days, forthcoming,
Show you, it matters not – how small, how big;
It’s worth returning thanks for.
Each meeting, a new verse in our lives.
A foundation to strong friendships,
Even eternal vows.
Each meeting has a path to different perceptions of life’s anticlines and synclines.
A class, this world is;
Our successes, our lowest points-
Our experiences - lessons to a glimpse of wisdom
©GraceM Composition
!
hell
above
the tree line
man digging in
implanting spikes
deep in your rock skin
chaining with ego's ropes
the mountain fighting back
with ice pick wind and avalanche
sweeping ticks to the dark crevasse
man wants to steal your diamond crown
plant their skull and crossbones in your soul
your wish is to add another bone to the brooch
The smell of sense enchants a Lover
Behind the screens of silk and cover
A shadow of a figure touches me.
Tightens the lace to heighten pace
My breath in short as his fingers trace
The small of my back...
He inches way to control the dark
of my heart, he cinches lace to create
his art, as he pins into place his name.
Marked on my soul I succumb to flame
What burns in the fire is a body of shame
Pleasure delivers in the form of pain as
Ruby lips wear the glistening stain, of sin.
I strain not to smile as I allow him in...
Lover, my knees indeed weaken
Erotic treasure behind the scenes
Given to the pleasure of your hands
Forbidden mystery I've yet to know
Tightens the lace and binds the ropes...
I lower my eyes... and submit to 'control'.
Folding over is a hole in Time
Shattering light penetrates my mind
Eyes of Storm turn a spiraling wind
as forces grow at the base of my spine
"...Master, I saw and built the line..."
A naughty touch of my Lovers hand
A space beyond the desert sands
A golden glow in the eyes of a Man...
Lace on my nipples dance, ripples,
tingles, singing on my lips, subtle and
supple, the nibbling riddles, reach me
there and here in the middle...hear...
Behind the screens of silk and cover
A shadow of a Lover, teaches me.
Raising my eyes, I submit to Be.
Form:
Expert skiers ought to know
That skiing ever faster
And off the beaten track just might
Precipitate disaster.
The specialists who gauge the snow
For slickness, depth and such
Put warnings out so all who ski
Stay out of danger’s clutch.
Yet more and more, those athletes
Who love risks and taking chances
Ignore all the advice and yield
To daring circumstances.
And so an avalanche occurs,
Which causes pain or death.
I wonder if regret’s expressed
In someone’s dying breath.
For admonitions only work
If they are sternly heeded.
A dab of caution is the dose
Of medicine that’s needed.
I sympathize with those who’ve lost
A loved one to the slopes;
But those who died so recklessly
Were those who knew the ropes.
Fear
loathe
pity us Not
We scars
so judiciously brought into existence
by silent shreds
of emotion:
Jagged sighs,
wretched smiles,
come journey Dysfunction.
We beg your brave outsiders' senses
to peer
Are you
Perplexed by soft whispers
that emanate Clear
from each
line?
Does our breadth
of a slice
of depth
of vice
the stripping of seams
to bloodlines
within,
defy perfect dreams
of sweet nectar
skin?
Dare you touch these velvet ropes
muddied
from cold steel
hue
now dry
in caked puddles
of lost hopes,
once winding
thick
through?
Fear
loathe
pity us Not
We scars
so judiciously sought into existence
by silent shreds
of promise:
Sound larks
of empathy's
song,
Heed the marks
of our concern,
liquid and long...
We merely yearn
to be forgotten
in realms of healing
Hope
begotten.
Mastications In One Movement
Lathering on the ranch dressing,
mixed with honey mustard grunting;
these inhaling engorging souls are
finding the emotional precipice,
high up and dangling,
hanging by french fried ropes,
smothered in thousand island arrhythmias.
here come the fat waiters,
pushing arteriosclerotic meat carts,
spangled in barbecued thrombosis
and chocolate-covered infarctions,
served au jus on peanut butter trays
filled with maple syrup cherries and
white-creamed heart palpitations.
You know what I mean?
You’ve smelled those words before,
tasted their glazed cordials,
licked the candy flowers
as they swayed there, and
sucked the inner pap of the sweet melon
with perspiring brow; now
having a reason to wake up, it is
time for cupcakes and cinnamon churros
with the vanilla-skirted girls,
marinating inside bacon and lettuce taxis,
dipped in onion teriyaki, sizzling
delicious smoke with au gratin effusions.
"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
— Mary Oliver
From the deepest whisper inside my soul
There comes revelations, who flow
Through broken words and bent phrases
Poetry who grows…
From my heart’s elation
From my spirit’s joy
From the night, darkness revealing
Secrets, silence, sensations…
Who awaken me from a deep sleep,
Reveal the meaning of true peace
Serenity that believes and sings…
Graceful as the starlight shimmers
Beckoning from the night
Quiet blessings, warm caresses…
The kiss of a moon who grows
Full into the nocturnal memories
From the breathless inspiration
Muse of my spirit – a stirring so revealing
Laughing through the purity, the penance
Poetry unrehearsed, a limitless supply of words
Caressing empty pages with stained and faded…
Thoughts who know…
It is life, real life…
Kissing the emptiness with a complete rhyme
Rhythms who hold the key to light…
Elegy darkening the abiding imagination,
The truth grows from a delicate prayer
Prayed by the soul who knows poetry…
Rises to share a heart, a soul, a light
Poetry is the place to come home to
And the place who is new with every word
Poetry is a life-cherishing force Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
November 18, 2022
HENPECKED
She’s written all over his back:
“Kick me” “loser”
She holds the reigns.
“Whoa… where do you think your going?!”
His children walk over his cobblestone back
With their ten pound clown shoes
Those aching feet whine endlessly:
“Father, I need more money!”
He gallops to the pub
And drinks the dregs of sin.
Spends his own hammer and nails,
They shake in his brown ale.
He returns home when he’s nowhere
Near sober, says his prayers whilst in his coma.
The bed squeaks with all his flaws,
His wife doesn’t feel him at all.
She nails herself to a 10 foot cross
Though she keeps sliding down.
Neither nails nor ropes will keep her.
The children burn the wood in effigy.
“Ring-a-round the roses,” they sing
Trying to fit into each little chair.
The psychiatrist just scratches his chin.
And ka-ching, the sound of alms for him.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017