Long Shallower Poems
Long Shallower Poems. Below are the most popular long Shallower by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shallower poems by poem length and keyword.
Who laid his lustful eyes on you had no feelings
that matched yours palpitating with tenderness;
he had nothing to offer you truly but pretension...
not caressing you and making you feel his passion.
What seemed true was shallower than empty words;
his possessiveness never brought any smile of gladness,
any sigh of hope beside a burst of casual laughter
you could have done without in the midst of anger.
Some say that delights are very short joys,
those escaping moments never to be seen again
in happier days when time stopped ticking minutes;
who can erase them from a mind that couldn't condemn
lies but forgive them with a gullible innocence?
Can truth be hidden under the mask of pretense?
What seemed true seemed shallower than empty words,
more painful than an open wound that resisted healing;
is it worth chasing a lovely dream until moonlight becomes
that invisible glimmer when darkness starts disappearing?
It all started when I moved to the West Coast
And lived on a San Francisco Street called Post.
An experience on Post Street forever changed my life.
Until then, I did not realize that my heart was lost.
Nevertheless, I found my heart in the soul of a vagabond.
I was a believer, but too blind and busy 'to show deep love'.
That gentle man taught me things I thought I already knew.
My 'people love' was far more shallower than I realized.
Before him, I never knew my heart contained so much stone.
Reuben, the vagabond, challenged me to go above and beyond;
His heart was lost, but so was mine in a different kind of way.
He was alone, homeless, and hungry when God sent him my way.
Moreover, God knew that each of us had what the other needed.
Encountering him forced me to do things never dreamed of before;
To pause and put 'Love in action' in ways I'd never done before.
Everyone enjoys cruising easy street
Hits keep playing around the clock
Everything flawlessly falling into place
Puzzle pieces effortlessly interlock
Humming along until hit a speed bump
Your momentum derailed by a detour
Diverting your good vibes off track
Unsure if you will be able to endure
Then reminded of our ability to bounce back
That has craftfully carried us this far
Have tackled tough times like this before
Know that we'll be able to raise the bar
So now when we find ourselves in a rut
Realize that it is shallower than before
Because the bottom begins to get filled in
Restored with resiliency from our core
My Beloved,
Can you read me between the lines and verses,
Can you feel my tender scarlet heart throbbing,
with intense drumming emotions?
Can you feel my fragile spirit,searching for you own?
Searching in the corridors,reaching for your soul?
as my ivory skin burns in flames of crackling fire.
My Baby,
Can you feel the depth of wanting, and longing?
Can you feel the aching for your touch?Can you
feel me in your dreams,as my fingertips run down
your spine in vertical motion,Needy for each and
every part of who you are.Needy for that special
man I came to care for and desire.
My Dearest,
Can you close your deep warm eyes for just a moment,
feel my pink soft lips brushing yours,as our toungues
play in melodies of passion and love.
Yes,Love!Lust alone isn't enough for the broken hearted,
Everlasting Want is what we live for,two hearts lost and found,
Two Candles flickering in the darkness'Vast.
My Love,
Can you feel these Multitude of feelings,that I'm feeling?
Everytime i mold your face in my imagination,sculpture
you and all you are in my sweetest fantasy.Everytime I
hear your voice echoing in the alleys and valleys of my mind.
Can you feel these never ending emotions,shallower than the
Missisippi River and Higher than the Alpi and Appenini.
My Sweet dream,
Can you feel me in the Hiss of the night?In the gentle waft
of waves hugging the rocks and secret caves?Can you feel me
in the Wind'scented breeze,caressing your face?In the lullaby
Of The Nightingale in sweetest melodies,till you fall so fast asleep,
and dream,as a red robin dreams.
My Love,
If you feel what I feel,and dream what i dream,Hold me in your
Misty dreams,and if you wake up to find me gone,Remember!
Just remember,I love you,You live in my first awakening thought,
and in my deepest lasting dream.
Form:
Where meadows gleam and blaze after a rainfall,
beyond balmy hills appears an inimitable rainbow
that His mind wanted to create, not manually draw...
feel vibrant life as you breath joy and wait for nightfall!
Immersed in the spectacle of Creation, each one of us
mustn't believe that it came from matter as they declare;
belief is not faith, it is shallower than the falsity of words...
gaze at that rainbow: wouldn't anyone proclaim His name?
Unbelievers, in our materialistic age, have set aside their trust in God
and have rebelled against Him to satisfy their selfish egos...
not understanding that what He has created is for our good:
happiness is not found in gems and gold, but by contemplating rainbows!
Once I believed like them, denying everything beautiful and grand,
but something inside troubled me deeply, I stopped and prayed....
and suddenly revelation came to me transforming me entirely:
my look travelled far to meet the blazing red sunset ensuing serenity!
Johnathan, Innsley, Marie, and Paul ---
Tom, Trish, Bea, and Jack: all of them.
Black, white, asian; Jew, gentile, zen...
Sex, art, love, mores revolved,
entering ever-shallower circles of discovery.
Clear ice cubes clanked on glass;
religion, sex, quality imported Scotch
and Cuba made the rounds.
Conversation calmed, each with his own idea:
the ultimate word.
Fake furs, donned, drifted into oblivion.
Feeling alone, J. C. cleaned up.
From the dulled Johnson's Wax luster
on a genuine Duncan Phyfe table,
his distorted rumpled reflection
stared up at itself.
J. C. looked away, noticed four new white rings,
picked up a soiled Canon towel,
and wiped away three beads of water,
a few ashes, and himself.
Balance of time slights the recurring vigil
Country's pride gleans the depleting residual
Annual tears water the artifices above manicured ground
Unextinguished pyre of tinseled youth still seethes 'neath clodded mound
The drum roll of spent days serenade each, muted mime
As ceremonial taps grant ingratiated minds trite stime
Into heroic feats rendered in soldiers' splintered prime
Human shadows hover in the solace of peace sublime
Sodden warriors' token sacrifice remains layered in lime
Sentient wreaths shroud shallower graves
Each, calcified bone now jading memory's slave
Stoic crosses reincarnate the souls of the fallen brave
Devoted progeny patriotic reserves from depleted fibers shave
Blackbrush -- Coleogyne ramosissima
the dominant understory shrub
in the pinyon-juniper canyons.
Mountain-mahogany -- Cercocarpus montanus and ledifolia.
Single-leaf ash -- Fraxinus anomalus
and possibly a western hophornbeam
by the small birch-like leaves
and the shredding bark
in a moist stretch of joint trail.
The joint-fir, green ephedra
looks like an ocean plant.
Could the wind or white water rivers alone
have shaped these sandstone, red rock forms?
Network of canyons, inverse of mountains.
It had to be ocean
ebbing and flowing, emotionally, like wind,
moving atmosphere, thicker
shaving, scraping, polishing, gouging, digging
fish canyons
then, shallower, dinosaur swamps
now, dry, rock gardens.
Explain the human history with water:
did the Anasazi visit neighbors
along the canyon rims and deep within,
combination caves and red-rock houses
small windows, doorways, just crawlways,
with corn gifts on summer evenings
when the canyon bottoms held permanent, not intermittent,
streams? After them
came the Ute and Navajo, Spanish and English.
Ravens dine on road kill.
A few long red roads connect some canyons.
The unprotected flats are overgrazed, rabbitbrush.
It is interesting
that as I learn the woody and herbaceous plants,
walk the desert foothills, I too could stay.
Perhaps not the Mountain -
Perhaps even not the lone hermit, atop said mountain...
sitting as still as tea leaves, left in their jar.
Perhaps not the Mountain.
So unneedful of needs.
Of deeds.
Now moving as imperceptibly, as slowly, as wakefully
as the ‘still’ tea leaves, damp on the saucer;
unfolding like mornings in morning’s new light.
Perhaps not the Mountain.
So unmindful of mind.
Of mankind.
Perhaps not the birds, resting in nooks in rookeries
by snow lines and greenlines.
Perhaps not the lizard or sheep,
one sharp-edged like the low-edges of shiftrock,
the other white-topped like lost-edge of the hightop.
Perhaps not the leopard, rare as the swear
from the hermit; still stretching...
out her morning.
Perhaps none know the mountain
is a slow wave
of Earth.
A Slow Wave
come crashing
so slowly into
shallower Earth.
A great primeval upheaval.
The sound you make are for attention;
But did I ever mentioned that I can't hear you;
Shallower whispers newt silences
Glorify the quite
Psst!!
What ya say?
Making bacon on the barbeque grill;
Racing chocolate milk cartons;
While all the while the dentist jackhammering the wisdom of your jaw;
The motorcycle is coming down the hallway, just exiting the bathroom;
While currently curtains of Camelot presidential parade s;
All this fuss is amongst us;
Yet I can't hear a word you say;
Psst!!
Cantaloupe swept use surprise;
Only at library, funerals, and nap time for babies and the elderly;
What ya say??
Can't hear U;
Git on up open your mouth!
Robbers got their chewing gum!!!
Start yelling hush, better run;
What ya say?
Can I have your tent and can of beans, please...
What ya say!
Before I roll up out of here;
Small mouths are loud can' t hear what I say;
I prayed today that my words would be heard;
Psst!!
What ya say
And right away I forgot what you said;
I can't hear you for all quietness
Thank God He ordained
Attentional whispers huh!!
Psst!!