Long Scowls Poems
Long Scowls Poems. Below are the most popular long Scowls by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scowls poems by poem length and keyword.
Strong women would like someone there,
just not to rescue them;
All of those alluring silver screen dreams;
No they don’t need him but they’d like to
give love a second chance;
Rehab for hopeless romantics;
Yeah we’ve seen it all in the movies;
All of those alluring silver screen dreams;
Blurred vowels kissed into deep scowls,
all of this rotten love for sale;
The words resemble dribble and leftovers
accompanied by a timeless type theme;
All of those alluring silver screen dreams;
Modern reality is so tasteless and bland
we’re left coveting wild salt water passion;
When you have happily ever after eyes
nothing can ever quite measure up;
Strong women would like someone there
to pull them back and rescue them,
from every alluring silver screen dream.
She is sweet and enigmatic
Her walk so conspicuous
How dare I go there,
With all her enigma
This surely won't end well.
She walks towards me
And courteously asks to sit beside
I hastily agree
Words that fall from her mouth
Are nothing but pleasing,
Dropping innuendos at every given opportune.
We delight in wine and she matches me glass for glass as she seems nonchalant to its effects.
Her eyes light up the room or is it the wine taking its toll?
Her beauty lies in comparison to none that my eyes have lay upon
I sit with an Aphrodite but yet
I wonder what she sees in me?
I stare at her as I fathom,
It suddenly dawns on me.
She is the kind who swallows cork for coin, The lady of the night.
That's the only conclusion I have
A woman all alone in a bar
What else could she be?
I decide to tread path on a more direct route
And arrive at point.
I ask her in whisper,what reward she will require for me to see what I was longing for?
Her dress part from her body.
She scowls as she breaks word
"I am a Lady seeking a Gentleman"
She stands and walks away like Cinderella only this time she leaves no glass slipper,
Leaving me mortified
For I sat with a lady and only just realized it Now.
Form:
It's the midnight dance, last call before the lights go out and the harvest moon glows brightly in the darkness. The room is full with partners sweeping close, hand in hand, floating liltly across the floor, snug and tightly wrapped in each others arms, lips upon their necks. Eyes drift up slow gorged yet wanting then frantic, eyeing every masked face searching for another partner.
Witches grin,
envied green flowing into the arms of passion burned red devils.
Pumpkins glow,
with eerie lanterns waltzing with the Headless Horseman's horse.
Pale ghostly sheeted ethereal spectres,
gently clasp skeletal fingers with dainty delicacy.
Superman tingles the webbing of Spiderman,
with Wonder Woman caught between them.
Batman scowls
at Robin's teenage angst closeted tights.
Scary menacing clowns
throw punches at pocked faced zombies.
A frail wall flower pretty in soft and elegant pink
into the arms of the muscular strong Huntsman.
A piano player plucks the keys in black and white
as the debutante swoons, falling graceful into his arms
and the dance comes to an end.
The puppet masters plot and weave, when first they practice to deceive
From Bush to Bush the fire spreads, a wildfire born from the Great Beasts bed
Intent, creates a new Zeitgeist to spawn a child, an anti-Christ
The seed’s been sown in Satans name the purpose clear, to God defame
No deeds revealed in tabloid papers Kept hidden their iniquitous capers
They mock our angst with rabid glee and crown it, a conspiracy
A sick exposure of the fact, success repeats the Patriot Act
Cruel fate awaits a Christian race the journey’s set at the Devils pace
From Hitlers hands their fortunes fed, a Rotten Apple, spiders threads
A Presidency on the cards their chorus rings from Satans bards
Twin Towers fall to Evils gain, Nostradame marks an old quatrain
Noahide Laws infused in society, Bush’s claim to the Devils piety
The terror laid at Americas shore, Homeland Security at its core
Involve our sons in fore-planned wars fuel Bankers interests near and far
To reign with iniquitous intent, the rule of money, purity bent
A system born to grease the palms, of those who seek the Devils alms
Indigenous inequality, why share what they can take
The Devils hands laid idle, write the rules for them to make
They form their words in whispers, they speak with a forked tongue
The parchment fresh, the quill’s been bled, the trap it has been sprung
Your liberty’s been stolen, a subtly sanctioned sin
There is no war on terror, the terror lies within
No longer called a prisoner, Genevas cause is lost to law
Detainees they’ll term us to be a welcomed lawyers flaw
Witnessed by a vanquished people, an American constitution
Set forth in pious reverence, genocide its resolution
Rockefeller spilt the beans a farcical invention
RFID for you and me their ultimate intention
Not for the good of those concerned,
Though pay you will, you’re chaff to burn
A single cause a twisted communion
Creates a North American Union
Though history repeats itself, its Trump card clearly dealt
The final thrust, centurions spear exposed, our innards felt
A thunderous cloud, the storms approach, the hurricane it howls
Gods hand outstretched, His children freed, as Satan sadly scowls!
Miles and miles of open country pass as the train moves.
A sudden thrust, jolt then nothing. The earth stands still.
Wind circulates pushing branches, leaves dance with the melody..
We sit..
Or movement halted by a slow moving freight,
we do an unheard of twenty five miles per hour.
I need a shower, shave, clean clothes.
A bathroom stench overwhelmingly horrific,
waste scented essence in the air,
mixed with the body odor of many
who share.
On the toilet seat,
look,
a pubic hair..
Finally, we slowly begin to move.
A conductor walks past checking destinations screaming:
"Next stop Chicago."
Passengers gather their belongings furious for the twelve hour delay.
Glossy eyes, scowls, a common look amongst the strangers.
Again, the train stops, deep breaths and a few colorful phrases
spout from a dozen or so.
A group of five sit and curse the situation,
hoping for a new permutation.
Hunger, fatigue, and back spasms corrupt my mood.
I am in need of food.
Sleep is not something that my body has seen.
The ride so far not peaceful, nor serene.
The delay has caused my lay-over to cease
causing me to jump trains hungry.
Where the meals range between $8.50-$15.00 a piece.
As I run to my next long acting bedroom on rails,
I smell food in the distance, hamburgers, fries, and chicken.
Oh, how this experience has sickened me.
........:JP)
“Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.”
John Keats Ode to a Nightingale
“Strange to find a sea captain quoting Keats.”
The Ghost and Mrs. Muir
She knows nothing
about the sea,
the sails or thee,
your perilous tongue
swimming with the sharks.
The captain dies
by suicide -
nay.
stupidity -
aye.
She’s protected,
captured
by his salty speech.
Oft the wind
carries
its scent of aftershave -
nay, again,
for the bearded captain
scowls,
transcends
with this blasted widow
scores
a poetic love.
11/19/2019
Up with the children at seven
For blueberry pancakes and ham.
Flapjacks enough for eleven -
How many will fit in the pan?
Lay out some slices of bread.
Spread with egg salad maybe,
Some tuna and celery for Fred,
And a “p,b and j” for the baby!
Fetch from the line all the towels
And swimsuits hanging to dry.
Ignore the grumbles and scowls
About sunscreen you have to apply.
Stack the pop in the ice chest.
With sandwiches, yogurt and fruit.
Pack napkins, chips and the rest
In the picnic basket to suit.
Pile out, and head for the seashore
With picnic, umbrella and chairs!
No room for anything more -
But then, nobody really cares!
Oh, joy! What a day at the beach!
We swim, jump the waves, and tan,
Drink our soda, eat a peach,
Its edges trimmed with sand!
Alack! Alas! It’s time to go!
Our homeward way we wend,
Not sad because we know
Tomorrow we’ll do it again!
The Head's
A narrative poem
Lionel Derbyshire
My grandpa is like the mountain
I strive to scribe.
Around a Indian ocean
Of her flat mountain
Twains a head and peak
Of lion and devil
Left and right.
Heft steady her burden.
It weighs rhino strong
Like my grandpa Rhino
The handle of Grandma
It wears a overall of green flora
There serene the mountain sits
Since Methuselah
And watched the many refusal
On how the ship's began to sink.
This the Cape ocean link
A sweeping place where
Rock and cloud meet
On her mountain flat
Labelled Table Mountain.
Growing up waves we always made ..
"Out my way
Flatheads! lay flat"
Grandpa scowls
And rhino bump us
Out his way
"Bless you .. bandit's"
The head whispers afterwards
Grandma would shake her head
To relief he did not drop us
From the mountain top.
Grandpa our lionhead
A headstrong patriarch
Was a devil ..
When you gambled him.
He neverminded
Anyone's business
And like the mountain
Still he sat ..
Watching ship's
Seeking refuge in and out.
He loved us with duty
And never abbreviated this.
We, his little blazer's.
A bridge to him we be.
On many times
Rhino would bark
"O life taste great !"
To a roar with pride
The times when
Grandma brought him chow
This claim she knew
Was his love for her
Right a top
A beautiful mountain
Her heaven on earth.
She's thwarted his advances for bluer skies
cat chasing her tail
to poking at nothing there
why is this such a fail
retrieving her blank stare
he tries again, his paws
grasping thin air
his teeth into her jaw
for answers to her impair
he scowls, then paces to scare
purring none the less
as his eyes scream and glare
at her mandates digress
come on what's up with you
he would say if he were a man
did you forget the screws
that drill holes into your playpen
hot under the collar he yells
get yourself ready, he stews
under hell bells
I'm taking you without further ado
she looks back at him and laughs
as a she sees a molly walk by
laying the wood into her chaff
sorry females are my bluer skies
connie pachecho
1/5/17
Awaken to the biting wind howls
while the sky darkened and the thunder scowls.
The distance sounds of birds flock across the darkened sky.
Sounds of crunching over the earth startled awake an owl to fly.
Flash of lighting then the sound, sending waves of fear, a pulsing heart;
lost in the darkness, of pounding rain, and gleaming darts.
She slowly turned her head to shadow weaving on her darken walls
from the flicker of leaves and trees obeying its calls.
Lighting so humbling, thins to a slight glimmer, and starts to stumble,
sounds of thunder wanes to a low grumbling rumble.
The night melts away to a light blend lavender and golden grain;
fresh sweet cool rain and earthy fragrance awaken again.
8/11/2017