Long Sensor Poems
Long Sensor Poems. Below are the most popular long Sensor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sensor poems by poem length and keyword.
Eminem Protege 2
Don't care what you think
I need Ten Shrinks an Ten Pens Full Of Ink
To Let my Inner Wisdom Tink
Colder Than Ten Penguins In A Rink
My Spirit Fitness & Physique at it's Peak
Adrenaline Obese
Extinguished to Concrete
Out the Pyramids Extinct
Into this Physical Dimension as A Sphinx
Face of a Beast of a Lynx
Idiot Beliefs placing limited reach
on my limitless fatigue
My Old Image Obsolete
I stole Potion from Ten Witches An Ten Wishes
from Ten Genies an Ancient Magicians
an Buried the lamps in the Ditches
while I summoned Ten Fighting Spirits
of Venegance as My Apprentices
I Opened my Sealed Syllabus
to Reveal my Ventriloquists
Just left Hells Kitchen with Skin Itching
with Skin Blisters open Skin Pigments
Stealing Lucifers Instruments
to Use them Against Him
To appear as Glitches
against the System
I cook Hot Meals with Mittens
an make him taste the Illness
I'm Inventing
But only an Sample for Interest
for His Taste Senses
cause Hells angels can Sensor the Sizzling
I'm Fly like Ten Twin Pigeons
with Eagles Precision
I'm a Scientist but I ain't writing Science Fiction
with Knowledge that would leave Einstein Winded
I been Fighting for Living
100 percent Percentage
an no less than a Percent difference
Still Power in my Engine
to keep the Ignition Driven
You can't Compare to these Rare Characteristics
the Judgements from your Conscious
is InTolerant to my Unresponsive
Mental Doctrines
Im use to Antagonist
Real Hebrew who's a Zionist
False Prophets who Diabolic an Jewish
Judaism Created with Iron Fist
in A Luciferian Science
of Enlightenment
Jewish Hybrids Of Pirates
Stolen Israels Environment
I ain't Racist
Just apart of a Nation
Created
Created Generations to Generations
Heritage Invaded
an Culture Undertaken
Perpetrated
by The Synagogue of Satanist
my fire been Penetrated
the fire in the eye of the Tiger formulated
stripes on the tiger Blazing
I'm Judahs Inspiration
an Judas Envy Craving
But I'm not Babylons Patriot
Bablyonion Doom Waiting
Doomsday
when the Moon Change
The Wolf Rage
Waging Spiritual Shade
against Ravenous Wolves in Sheeps Wools
is Game
Sharpened Tools
my Sword is Shaped
Cut open the Wolves
an Bathe in the Pool
of Blood til It's Drained
I'm a Prophet in the Apocalypse
Death of I-Kons
In my life, I have seen many movies.
I watched wonderful animation,
tell stories that touched my heart,
over the years of my life.
Now they are stabbing the elusive
cartoons with sensor-driven remarks
and woke-ism that cuts and shreds
like a trash machine,
in the kitchen...
compacting and changing
the shapes of all things
it is fed,
or chooses to consume
on its on.
(EATR Machines, Military Robots)
I have read many books,
texts on history and science.
I was blessed and attended college,
to learn about business
and the world at large.
It was enough to get by,
and make a life.
They taught ethics and morals,
and math to me.
Now on TV, they change the rules.
They do as they please,
hire for the numbers,
and fire for the color of their skin...
to win at some kind of gamble,
no one knew or agreed to take.
(Gambling was legalized on March 1, 2022
legalization of betting on and off-reservation lands.
Now Advertised directly on the TV)
The parks are full of tents.
There is nowhere to take the children,
that they will not see, the evil of the day.
There is no protecting them,
from the darkness that is consuming the land.
The only hope is the Hand of God.
Resources running out,
wasted by the powerful...
taking jets to lunch in Paris.
Food unimportant to those that have full pantries,
and ice cream in their favorite flavor,
ready to be consumed,
at leisure.
(Gourmet flavors for the head of Congress
at $14 a gallon.)
I grew up on "good wins over evil".
I grew up on do the right thing,
because it was and is the right thing to do.
Grandma told.
Grandpa told me.
And, most importantly God told me.
So why is the world upside down?
Why do bad people hurt so many,
and so few do anything about any of it?
Frosty is melted.
Rudolph was hunted down,
and given a vaccine.
Twenty-eight food sources,
factories and processing plants,
have been leveled
in just under two years.
Two by plane alone.
But who would really believe that?
The energy supplies have been cut off,
or sent to other countries,
by our sitting president.
The citizens go hungry,
and the children cry.
But that is okay,
they are meant to die.
All part of the plan.
Did you vote for this?
Did anyone?
Written for and about my eldest daughter, Freya Lily (Pickle).
Ive loved you,
from the very first second I saw you,
you are my beautiful first born.
So the times when I see you upset
frustrates me and I’m torn.
Because you truly are lovely,
And trust me when I say
that I look at you every day
Filled with so much pride,
That i can hardly contain,
it makes me want to burst inside,
You’re as sweet as the classical music
you play at night.
Because it only seems like yesterday.
you was that gorgeous little baby.
sat in your high chair,
lacking any eye brow hair.
chucking food down to daisy,
the most lazy,loving dog
Who would always follow you around the house,
With her ears pricked up,as if
her suspicions were aroused.
It’s like somehow she knew
you was up-to no good,
or really I think she was just waiting
for you to drop more food.
I will never forget the the time.
when your mum called me to say,
you had poured red paint on the carpet that day.
I could only imagine her shock and despair.
As she desperately tried to scrub
The paint from the top of the stairs.
Your poor mum was in such a distress,
As she told me later that night
she was cursing my name,
as she cleared up that mess
Because apparently me and you
are like two peas in a pod,
We play fight in a supermarkets,
and be mischievous
like a dad and daughter should.
But as I sit looking at you now watching you grow.
I love you so much.
that I thought you should know,
what a wonderful young lady your going to become,
your loving and kind,
with a softness and innocence.
But at times you have a worrying naivety.
Also I think that it’s fair to say.
and I’m sure your agree with me,
that getting you to tidy your room
doesn’t come so easily.
other then that don’t ever change
as your doing just fine,
We all love just how clumsy and silly
you are most of the time.
You have a brilliant sensor of humour and
your a fantastic young artists
With dreams of designing fashion
And moving to Paris.
And You will,
with some heart and desire.
So Never lose your love,passion or fire.
You can do whatever you want to do.
and be whoever you want to be.
because your my beautiful darling daughter,
My Angel face,
Freya Lily.
( pickle)
I was looking out the window and saw my neighbor across the street on a ladder, putting up an American flag. Both he and his wife are school teachers.
I took that moment to go over and tease him. I asked if he was putting the flag up to honor my husband.
I have been living here for ten years, and they had never tried to be friendly, except when they needed something. They have two sons and two golden labs. They all-stay locked up in the house with the curtains drawn. If, someone comes and knocks on their door, they are greeted by two frantic and not-so-friendly sounding barks, that bump on the glass window, but their owners won’t answer the door.
They have a motion sensor light over the middle of the garage door. I told him that the flapping of the flag was going to set off the light all the time. He laughed; he hadn't thought about it. I purposely went over to tell him that my husband had passed away four months ago. He was shocked. He apologized and said he didn't know.
With tears, I turned and walked away. When I'd gotten to the edge of the driveway, the tip off my left sandal caught on the edge of the asphalt. The sandal stayed; my arms started flapping, like a young bird in its nest trying to fly. Flapping, flapping, I kept leaning forward, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Trying to righten myself, half-way to the other side, my other sandal flew off. I suppose I might have looked pretty funny, running to the other side, bending over like I was trying to catch a hat that had blown off my head. My arms still flapping, waiting for a landing, face first on the asphalt and the gravel under my feet. All I could think and see was the blackest tar and gravel rising to meet me, how painful it was going to be when my face kissed that dirty tar.
However, by some miracle, I had gotten to the other side of the road and caught my balance. With my heart pounding, my neck and back aching, and the bottoms of my feet sore, I survived not kissing the dirty tar and gravel. It was like God's angel spread its wings and wrapped them around me, and straighten me out. I should have had a very serious relationship with the first kiss, but not that day.
Thank you, Lord.
Thank you, Lord.
12/29/2018
38.4154017°, -76.5341214°
A waterwheel, raceway, grinding stones (bedstone and runner stone), gears, shafts, and a hopper for grain, Diet. The crested honey buzzard is a specialist feeder, living mainly on the larvae of social bees and wasps, and eating bits of comb and honey(qilaat)Inuit The People at Funks Pond.Analog-to-digital conversion.absolute event.a combination of shutter speed aperture
that determines the amount of light reaching the camera's sensor. manufactured by Kurtis Kraft in 1949 and 1950.Punganur Made cars and had a Milling Mill on the Creek. in the 1930's they built Sports cars and sold hovercrafts in the 1933 the sold shares of there company to the public. They became famous when the wife woman began infusing honey with vanilla beans:infused honey is made by adding whole Vanilla Beans to our raw and unfiltered honey. It's a perfect balance of sweet and vanilla taste.They shut down the company
and moved all the equipment to an undisclosed place Selling the Motor Company to Frank Muntez
Expenditures/costs negotiated/spent before filming begins, including source material rights (for adaptations) and salaries for director, producer screenwriter, and actors.
Whammy Bar ( Little Black Egg.....)
Funks Pond(revamp)
(RUMOR HAS IT) Ernest T. Bass was involved in an interracial relationship with black model Donyale Luna_ they had a child in 1967 he never recognized the child. In 2001 his unrecognized granddaughter began tossing stones at a Mall in Mississauga Canada. It was said she was sing "The Creeks to Dry" skip along in bootie shorts, a white tee shirt and a sleeveless blue jean vest. It was said that she had large beetle bugs in her purse. Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!)
Written By: Pro.Tuum Proximus Maritus
and Doctor Uxor Eius Est
of Wobble Board Fame Inc.
Red Cow Music and Lyric Company
British White Recording Academy
Belgium Blue Sound Prep Inc.
all Produced and Ex-Produced
By Black Angus "Jumpan-Pumpin"
with permission by Star Anise Leather Co. LLC
Copyright Pending
Patent approved
"Cheezey-greazy sour Dill
with Yeasty rolls: Man thats
deliisous!"
Written By:
Huba Datl Chol
Circa 1969
Revised the other day(2023)
An infinitesimal slight speck tickled
nostril follicle – activated via an itty
bitty, nitty gritty dirt band noah bigger
than a mole luck yule set in motion a
chain reaction, whence mine sensitive
proboscis honker (wheeze - hilly little
bridged fine tuned pug nose aroma
sensor), got unexpectedly in gauged
(in holy matt trim mo’ knee) to achew,
and eschew pledging troth (in favor of
hanky-panky) found this chap feeling
phlegmatic because an endless string
of faux allergic emanations, which
upon subsiding left me throat rather
raspy and voice some octaves deeper
akin to a coterie of celebrated jumping
frogs from Calaveras County, California
took residence and refused leaving
stranglehold upon math rote upon
awakening from a hard day’s journey
into night across the outer limits
of thine twilight zone resurrected
during slumber, yet upon awakening
felt much refreshed and hungry enough
to eat a horse – nee – make that forced
whore – gulped down within a hoof
n hour and now recount how back in
the day when zooming thru the Lilies
of the Valley (whooshing mass elf tubby
an aeroplane) frequent bouts with uber
twittering snapchatting sinus attacks
besieged crinkled, doppelganger expeller
for germs hunting with his clean X
instantaneously for nasal passages
to enter surreptitiously the fecund
effluvia dripping, oozing, and seeping
clear liquid as wintry cold air looses
droplets from out a near frozen nose,
which bloke knows not why frigid blast
stimulates gallimaufry of sniffling
to spurt into a volume of one after
another gesundheit donning, snorting
trumpeting unwittingly confusing
Canadian geese, who misconstrue
the honking from midway centered
facial organ, which angry birds
in tandem with flock of Seagulls
quite perturbed to espy one curmudgeon
chap clapping hands over (what feels
like Smashing Pumpkins on face)
in an effort to stifle subsequent gummy
emissions, which residue expectorated
with heave hoe shove
schnoz el tov blowing into snot-rag.
Wrong bread for Fred
here I am sick in bed
got the chills and aches in my head
called the pharmacy and spoke with Ned
was told of a remedy of oatmeal bread
thought that was new so I tried it instead
smeared some butter and jelly was spread
laid down with a book that I hadn’t read
Did not like the novel , the cover mislead.
still feeling the blahs I was getting worse
hoped that I make it without calling a hearse.
got the bible out and looked for a verse
thought it might help to relieve this curse.
I called back to the pharmacy asking for Ned
was told he didn’t work here, it’s a bakery instead
I had dialed the wrong number to get the med
they thought I was ill from not being fed.
that’s why they told me to get some bread
I went to the bakery and told them I was Fred
Ned was there and told me he had misread
‘ ginger bread would have been better instead”
bought some gingerbread and some whipped cream
thought this was unusual and kind of extreme
perhaps a remedy, am hoping not a scheme
I’m sick enough to just wash downstream.
the gingerbread went into the oven to bake
ate most if it but then my stomach began to ache
felt dizzy enough but not like floating in a lake
what could be wrong with me, it was only a cake.
was admitted to the hospital, had an abdominal scan
they asked me if I had eaten cereal with bran
told them I made a cake in a non stick pan
added some prunes that I had in a can.
was put in bed dressed with just a flimsy gown
wasn’t enough material to go all the way around
where’s the rest of the sleeper I asked with a frown
‘there is none, you’ll be spotted in case you skip into town”
I need to find a way to slip out the door
where’s my bag with clothes that I wore
the bed has an alarm sensor if you try to soar
using a bedpan will be quite the chore.
wrapped myself up in sheets, hiding my buns
ran down the back stairway before morning comes
Security frantically searching and yelling to everyone
“gingerbread man is on the loose with the runs”!
Every moment is a potion mixing
in the adjoinisent wave.
Where possibility falls like raindrops,
leaving you with the wonder of knowing;
how things are to be, how it is to behave.
Do you remember a time the warm summer air
gave birth to hatchlings that cloud-bursted
into your makeshift oasis?
By the Sea a Pool or a Pond, River,
Lake or Stream.
Born out of the blue, streaking
and skinny dipping back in, like a fiend.
R-Will-searching for love's Strombolient Cave,
rippled in urging,- execution of means and way.
Bursting anew into a heat seeking ring;
a resurging the repurposing of will
and union and new beginning from that day.
A whispered hint, a sneak peek from one
that has a hard time keeping a secret.
I must say!
Condensation passes from Her dripping maw,
savors, in understanding,
favors our barrage of desires,
with flavors grinning long.
Possibility indeed falls like raindrops,
bursting wet and pure.
Standing at our precipice,
rapping at our gate,
demuir
circumstances courting you in a belly-dance,
around that trial by fire, pregnant with fertility,
forged by the desire of our contemplate, inspired nativity.
Mystery's lungs breathe in perfect timing.
The sigh, heard as an inaudible
bracelet rattle, singing, opining.
Skipping, smirking, teasing and tattling.
Mother Love in Love in the distance you can hear the humming feminine prattle.
Peddling, a dance of pounces onto bare footing,
for riding atop of and settling, saddling.
in happiness's tantric trance.
Gaia roundabout,
Straddling.
Fairied in a Feminine dream.
Ferried by empathy.
Stitching stitchlings into
hand-maidens and hand-maidens
into the fabrics seams.
Seems as if the Familiar lips,
the atmospheres sway of hips; adept
the sensor censer of Holy Smoke equipped
with Angelic Sound, an anonomous kiss,
above Consecrated Ground is not at all
remiss.
September 12th, 2019...12:00 p.m.
inspection/ emission finally possible
but...hopes dashed to smithereens
August thirty first
two thousand nineteen shortly past,
no matter 2009 Hyundai Sonata at long last
scheduled with ample funds
checking account blitzed
now back home
(Highland Manor apartments)
absolute zero money left cents lessly gassed
exhale incomplete sigh of relief
cuz necessity to dodge fast
escaping deafening police
ear splitting siren blast.
Congenial customer service
representatives at CJ's tire,
and automotive dutifully require
loose fender securely attached,
but hood latch replacement more dire,
thus postponing mechanic
to affix inspection sticker,
no matter old one did expire
once again driving on borrowed time,
cuz both driver and passenger front tire
plus rear right TPMS metal sensor
re: passenger rear tire
malfunction functionality
hoop fully explains this wire.
Your truly uber verging wreck,
no complaints regarding trained tech
very competent mechanic
even for peripatetic pluperfect prospect
reference I recommend unsolicited
advertisement plus aye inject
relieving anticipatory anxiety
oh yes, said vehicle
in good hands absolutely correct,
no matter sucker punch
to checking account
doth severely affect
mine psychological aspect.
More legal (zooming) tender
zaps lion's share of this thrifty spender
wannabe, which cruel tread full fate
unquestionably, ostensibly invariably...
every year without fail doth render
finding me in poor house
desperate to pray divine
rolling rocker alms lender
whether he.she major criminal offender,
nor no preference regarding gender.
Fat/slim chance
wishful fantasy will become true
escapist mindset bolsters
this hen pecked forlorn rue
stir standing glum within
long fostered, and winding queue,
this dirt poor dude intuitively knew
bubblegum, toothpicks and glue
holding psyche intact turned hue
man into sad sack... boo hoo
minus auto body work
undertaken by trained
heavy metal punk ken cutting crew.
Lust's Sickness throws off the yoke, of cure?
Defiant in-body, pleasures obscure.
A mask, of pride, a lost soul-in vogue capture, a hell-ride in the belly of a beastly whore.
The salt crystal shines your thirst back to you in a drowning mirror that blinds you.
It's image, in-retrograde.
Worship of false idol,
self, made, self that binds you.
You are tapewormed, pinned at the head,
eating the loop of tale.
A process processing by lassoing,
the masochism of sin.
The Harlot, riding an illusion abiding,
of perverted grandeur, aboding the Vale,
in a warped game of intelivision in the City Dell.
Rally the standard, flags, censors,
sensor a game, of shell, of humanity being played,
like a fiddle, rung like a bell.
Their humanity wanes,
from defiant song in the harmonic scale, of fever.
Their body a signet, of times despoil.
The occulus hourglass abacus mirror waxing cold,
fusion spirit, ether, spell for sale, sold.
Doors closing double
folding into the dimension of troubles.
Shopkeepers of the gates of Hell,
and souls falling onto the other.
Neon is in the blood, signed, *** - 666,
enter, the veil.
Apocalypservices,
the last vomiting throes of Society's-former Dale.
BDSM by Hollywood (wand not for display),
at the demonic re education menagerie.
Self's gallery for sale, while burning,
nativity to ashes,
carbon to polish our looking glasses.
Sold-out to the oil of midnite.
Snaking, on a torch lit by the way
of political prophet-eering incite.
Insight of conscience swayed
by field communications, too near.
Of Olympus-apothecarried by the scales in motion,
weighed by fears'-musings-fear.
By Reptilian, Orwellian, modern, progressive notions caught doing.
Explosive, fiery things.
Burn us to death, in house arrest,
in-deed to fuel one's own un, manifest.
Doing, one's undoing at the behest of the WEF