Long Secreting Poems
Long Secreting Poems. Below are the most popular long Secreting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Secreting poems by poem length and keyword.
Particularly pronounce abscess,
when rites of spring accursedness
prevails, asper testament, sans swell
scored psychological achiness
recording minecrafted history,
viz secreting acridness
permeates profusely predicated puberty,
akin to ambling au naturale adulteress
plethora plush plumage plus perfume
presage prickly profuse inauspicious pre/
post pubescent and adult affectlessness
propensity poisons primary predilection
pummeling poking pillorying
perpetual purgatory with aggressiveness.
Now translated into bumpy
layman's/woman's terms, aye
communicate, albeit stylishly campy
adhering, colluding, and choppily try
trending without trademark obfuscation,
nonetheless, a feeble
attempt might still defy,
an honest to dog ambition to express
how blooming in the dales less
sons glee aware, how lovers press
lips close together, when yours truly
shuttered himself in bedroom
of boyhood home to cope with stress
thus denying, depriving,
and destroying bone
a fied hankering,
asper this pooch hood doth hone
ache, never to experience puppy love
til pooch later in life,
when he became at present
male version, sans crone
revisiting, reliving, and
reflecting being alone
without ever touching, savoring,
and rubbing smooth cheekbone
of a lass - see, this thy reason
Matthew Scott doth bemoan
observing young bucks,
who liberate kickstarter jangling hormone
he oozes with envy those whippersnappers
gathering rosebuds while they may intone
enjoyment, qua the vitality, virility, and victory
before youth fleetingly passes versus millstone
weighing heavier with each passing year
before the grim reaper doth phone!
You are loitering aimless crushing arrogant feral grass
growing haphazard on non-mowed meadow.
A rare chance to have a glance peeping through window
Perchance a happy happenstance.
I rush to face an emotive encounter enchanted on your elegance.
Moist dark sensation of wobbling heart to splash on daub of confusion.
Sudden gust making ripples on tips of crippled saplings
Butterfly flutters in frolic fashion adoring tiny flowers on thorny bush.
Romantic aroma roams wafting exciting ecstasy,
splashing fragrance on pearly passion secreting amorous nectar.
Rustle of breeze whispers your voice in my ear.
Dear, I am bewildered dominated by dormant wild desire.
Is it your voice or I am mistaken! You keep silent!
Feelings to flow in flood of bubbling blood craving closeness,
assuring strong bond neither mild nor feeble,
transcending folly of fast rash to fall in love.
Where To Find ?
Where to find my lost love,
so many years ago I left behind !
Now with empty mind in vain
trying to rewind forgotten past !
Being self - obsessed
I left my beloved at a nook,
now it’s useless to look back
on search of bygone days.
Throughout my restless life
I couldn’t sense any peace.
Two morose eyes haunted me,
I couldn’t let it go.
Those dreamy glances embedded in mind !
I have left behind my beloved .
Where to find my lost love ?
Amorous flow of nectar
secreting silent tears drop by drop
yielded a pearl of dolor.
Me alone in despondency
lamenting in my empty nest.
How could I return at her door step !
Where she escaped !
I do not know, where to go ?
Where to find my lost love ?
How to be back to my beloved ?
,2023.
With every gust of wind, secret taboo,
secreting a web a cocooned prison
of liquid knowing, flowing,
emulsifying impossibly old and new.
In the beyond of the known, stair-stepped,
desert bone flashed into
your consciousness a confident cajoling.
To stew, on the broth of you.
A teasing shot across your bough
of lost resistance and preservation
your eyes rolling white to the out of blue.
Sailing magnetic across it's salivate maw
and unflinching gaze
You are its pupil satellite Positron of drug,
positioned, strung shift of phase shift
of new vistas of truth and beauty unsealed,
inlayed in the naked language of the Angels, stage.
You are, quickened.
Quickened-Quicksilver, tuning, dimensionality,
Principality.
Hidden depths of self,
trigger emotion and thoughts
of infinity divided by three.
A black hole of obscene curiosity
swallows your mind.
Consciousness crests
in trans-mission inflated verbose
relay of Celeste divine? Freet?
You are a place of shipwrecks and mires,
Vagabound desires.
Who dares to sail beyond the horizon of the known retreat.
You come to an isle
of Precious golds and silvers
in frequency bands of holo-hold.
Land of spellcraft, music, heresy, thrones.
Centrigual placement of palaced
internment, camp of strange instruments,
beautiful adorned accoutrements, and contrived designs.
Rune of keys you can feel, the need.
To play them, a feeling, freed.
You shape the music into an arch entity
that offers you it's drink.
You become a dizzy swirl, unable to think to speak...
Of
Silk robes of every delicate fabrication of sin.
Jewels undone, in mythos biolocationed- transmogrifliquesatisfactions.
Yet the symbology remains constant
in it's sustain of visual topology.
Guiding you through the choppy waters
on ethereal landing
in land of the cloud of uncertainty, in hymnal,
refrain, refrain from it's hypnotic beat.
Hold on tight, Jane, Jason of the
foams and eddys and strangered things.
The exhilerating peril, in para parable.
Epic Tome, seasoning tomb of forner deed, denial plausibility causible.
Be ye not
thirsted for the salts of her drink.
For these are the Seven Seas.
It's the most playful time of the year. With the kids gone no yelling. She's clean and not smelling. Legs spread with no fear. It's the most funfilled time of the year.
It's the best best season of all. With two bodies meeting. Those juice secreting. Friends him it's a ball. It's the most s*exiest season of all.
Let's party, I'm hosting. It's so hot, we're roasting. Look we melted the snow. There'll be ones that are hairy. Oh boy that is scary. Cover that sh*it up and go. You'll be shaving more times next year. There'll be more faces glowing. Your parts brightly showing. I'll want you right here. It's the most beautiful sight.. its the most beautiful sight.. oh the most beautiful sight of the year..
I have a lot of questions
questions
questions
he repeats
slowly creaking
and dancing
on our screened porch
peaking swing.
Radiant
in fiery ginger godliness,
mind centering omnipotence
He is so far ahead
of answers,
I feel embarrassed
to share them.
But, in not sharing
I become lost in caring
what he might think of me,
feel about we
without sufficient daring.
He swings **** retentive
in a whole new light
of previously unrepresented delight.
Ah! that could not be my question.
A hypothesis, perhaps
meriting further research;
new questings.
It feels important to me
this questing
for high and deep best male alert
dessert thick
and creamy,
dreamy wave of carnal delight,
absence of fright
or fight
in last and long dark nights
on seas of swings
just f.....g right.
I want to squeeze
these pulsing questings
out of this maleness
female mess
so quickly
complexly asked
and chaotically given
Shriven
of clothes
but not masquerades
of closet questions
questing answers
not yet hard
and widely embraced
formed
invited graced gay notions
Of motions
and emotions
just right
and left
bilaterally in-between
bicameral lusts
and bisensual leisure
to swing all theories continuous
polypathic
polyphonic
polyvagal
polymetric
polyamorous ways
Of in
and out
and rebellious shout
for Earth's most carnal freedom
of re-connecting
polycultural con-scientific re-ligioning
questions about straight and narrow
meets wide and deep
Why 1
slides so sexily
through 0
shape-shifting chakras
of natural
spiritual co-empathic pole
and holistic energy
like nuts
round bolts
and male
inside female bipolarities.
So many questions,
he gloriously proclaims
in majestic awe
meets lusty wonder
As his bi-gendered feet
gently invite
our graced swing
to sweep and seep defeat
with co-passioned
revolving Earth
back to Spring
and forth to Fall
One late summer morning
on our screened porch
secret secreting swing.
I felt a tinge of frost on my cheeks today.
That indicates that fall is just a few days away!
Ah, autumn! 'Tis my favorite season of the year,
When upon my lawn a carpet of gold will soon appear!
I heard the plaintive cry of geese as I awoke this morn.
They were winging southward to begin their annual bourne.
Frisky squirrels were secreting their winter's fare about my lawn.
Old Sol arose a tad later to display a glorious autumn dawn!
The apples on my trees are tinted by the Master Artist's brush,
Some with hues of green and gold - others with a crimson blush.
The roses struggle to retain their fading blooms for a few more days,
But the chrysanthemums in colorful array are still very much ablaze!
Aspens on the mountainsides are assuming their brilliant cloaks of gold.
Anon, snow will garnish old Pikes Peak - 'tis a grand sight to behold!
Colorado spruce 'neath where antelope now gambol and browse,
Will soon have garlands of sugary snow adorning their spreading boughs!
A brilliant harvest moon shines over all casting its mellow light.
An owl perching in a tree is silhouetted against the moon at night!
Ah, glorious autumn! It has been my favorite season since my youth.
More so since I'm in the autumn of life and grow older in the tooth!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Across chasms of time
our eyes may meet
love long unavailed
will pull at restraint
tomorrow must come
and an adamantium sky
ripples the aurora borealis
above my meager crown
My admiration lies in hidden smiles
as this burgeoning lust rolls all eyes
secreting the ties that bound us
I deny its velocity and validity
As Judas denied christ thrice
I deny us and what we once held
hanging trees of knowledge bloom
the truth is undressed and undenied
Along the Rose line in all my dreams
A shrill coming together killed us
draped in silenced peace I prayed
knowing love burns ever brighter still
But in these awkward realms of glass
where destiny plays with solid rock
and deja vu awakes my middle eye
the blink of a universe trickles tears
Gently twinkling stars remind me
on the tip of my tongue a word
falters to only lay dead in my throat
to know love I must speak in tongues
Knowing this I kiss goodbye the earth
letting destiny take hold of my hand
Sometimes…
People will hurt
Their hearts will burn away
All the hope and bring only pain
Sometimes…
People will say
They’re right – even when they know
Their souls need to change,
Listen to His words, His grace
The light that reflects His way
Sometimes…
People will smile
When, in their hearts…
They’re telling you dark lies
Secreting slanders, deception
That would never be allowed…
If they followed His directions
Sometimes…
People will doubt
The love in your heart,
The reasons you smile,
The dreams in your soul,
The light that reflects
All the compassion you know…
Is the promise of your love
Sometimes…
People will hurt you,
Hand you so much pain…
You feel like it can’t be absolved.
Yet, you forgive… knowing…
He is the forgiver of all
He even excused your own sin
With understanding that begins with…
The cross where He died for them,
The ones who hurt you again and again…
The ones you’ll forgive because you believe…
In a Savior who forgave you of every wrong
A Redeemer who made you God’s child,
The child who knows forgiveness decides…
To give grace when the pain is so alive inside
That nothing on earth feels quite right.
Forgiveness, my friend… is the gift that gives
Again and again… love that never ends!
Matthew 18:21-22
King James Version
21 Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?
22 Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven.
Like fresh nectar secreting so sweetly,
Within bowls of immaculate flowers;
Like the sweetest silent sound so softly,
Blooming the buds into flower powers…
Like drops of water into streams gently,
Dripping and rippling and then brim-filling;
Spirit's sanctified souvenirs slowly,
Has showered in me blessings soul-thrilling...
With silence, prayer, trust, beliefs benign,
Contemplation cum action prevailing;
He has made his voice of conscience now mine,
He has given me his heart love-flowing...
God and love alone my conscience depends,
God, and love, for all, my conscience extends.
01 June 2021
Open Poetry 5 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charlotte Puddifoot