Long Shinier Poems
Long Shinier Poems. Below are the most popular long Shinier by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shinier poems by poem length and keyword.
Sweet is equally sweet to all mortal tongues,
Choice morsels sate all men's starved pangs;
Brilliant sights of plenty charm every eye right,
And friends against foes for shinier spoils fight.
Why then do many in want of fine things stand;
Or, how come keenest mouths on gravel feed?
What alters those picky looks on life's shelves
That tell the greatest from the blandest breed?
Sheer wishful cravings for tasty bites alone,
Can't tear sumptuous meat from obtuse bone;
Nor can mere oglings turn fate's mulish thread,
That pins all sojourners on the hardened tread.
Life's fortunate farers got loads of apt swag:
Maybe just a weird tooth for plaintive rhyme,
Or a bankrupt itching to benefit others' souls;
Artful ploys to outshine the sly guiles of dime.
Prized strokes of luck eschew the clinical type,
And smile on stony folks immune to their hype.
I broke my personal record for days alive yesterday. Yea me. I feel great today. This morning I swear my hair looked shinier and more lustrous and there’s the slightest glow to my skin. I’m just saying. I’m out and about for the first time this semester and you couldn’t slap the grin off my face.
The commons dining hall was a rolling buzz of conversations endemic to university life. At the next table, the topic is how many people can someone be in love with at once. A girl named Ariana, is at the center of the discussion. She’s a film-study major and I think it’s the topic of a documentary she’s working on.
Ariana has choppy purple hair with bangs about an-eighth of an inch long. Today, (34° and rainy) she’s wearing a short-short skirt, thermal tights that look like sheer leggings and about four tank tops. “You should pick one person and give them your everything.” Ariana argued.
“Monogamy used to mean one person for life,” another girl states, “then it became one person at a time.” I hide a smile and try to look like I’m not eavesdropping. It’s hard to explain how much I adore these overheard conversations.
Soon it’s time to head for class and we're up, gathering our bookbags and putting in our AirPods. When you’re making your way across campus, the goal is to be fast, fierce and bouncy. I love Miley Cyrus’ “Flowers.” It’s Eden on so many levels. People try to shame Miley but the woman goes hard, she slaps - all the things - and “Flowers” is one of those songs that get you there.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Endemic: “existing or common in a certain place”
eden = perfect
slaps = is excellent
Heaven’s door was not as pretty as I had originally hoped.
I was not repulsed, I was intrigued actually.
I knocked once politely. No one came.
So I knocked three small knocks.
Nothing.
That’s not the right door, someone said.
I was shocked. How did he now?
His head was wrapped in a big bandage.
I followed him in spite of my reservations.
He had found a bigger brighter, shinier door.
He knocked and promptly disappeared.
I knocked and
nothing…..
Several other doors were found.
Keep trying! An angel yelled to me. You are doing great.
Everyone has their own door!
This was amazing to me.
Comparisons are unerring things at worst;
Every common ore yielded for shinier gold,
And tepid junkets given up in apt forfeiture
For tolerably pricier carats unsullied stored.
Far less treasured lots perpetually stand
In shrouded paths to more pleasing deal,
And more often than not emit lures bland
To fade jollities owners of finer gems feel.
Prudent choosers are harder to hoodwink;
They're grateful to know how to swiftly tell
Vast variance between wee penny's worth
And huger wads quiet past old minas' kink.
They're merrier types closer to Midas lips;
Smarter-thinking pickers noted with strips
Of fair Fortune's higher turns beyond taste,
Loftier than Fancy's dreams and her haste.
With comparative logic one never can err,
Since brighter minds cheap choices abhor.
...And then they speak of un-translatable conquests,
Though my face looks so much like your face
And our voices can get caught and surprised in mutual, glancing harmony
Over and over and then something else always occurs.
That altering conquest
Where the thing called "love" is pushed aside
For a shinier jewel,
Where your face is definitively strange
And you become the "other,"
And our union waits for the reunion;
And they keep speaking of it in warping language,
Salted from life's breathe,
Because we all learn as we go,
Finally finding that all rivers flow to the sea,
All conquests being the one multitudinous leap
Into that tongueless all-glowing haze
Where love bleeds into mouths.
Skinless and earthless we receive and
Exhale ancient space.
The space of permanent peace.
I remember the good old days of what now seems so long ago
The year was twenty nineteen. What parties we used to throw
Family and friends gathered for weddings and festive holidays
Smiles were seen before flashes of illness and dissension blazed
Parents went off to work; their children educated at school
Life was much easier then; and people didn't seem so cruel
We laughed and joked at neighborhood restaurants and bars
Hope in the future was bright, and shinier seemed the stars
It was a time when we took for granted, many simple things
When never would we have imagined the wrath of viral stings
Nor how much we would sadly miss the nearness of others
the signs of affection we'd still give, if we had our druthers.
There is one special memory from those "The Good Old Days"
that will never be forgotten in the grateful voice I lovingly raise
The blessed news of a new family member; a healthy baby girl
I pray her future will be worry free, as I watch her life unfurl
January 13, 2021
The Good Old Days Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
There were slimy spotted frogs jumping out of the oaks,
Slickest yellow raincoats worn by the bravest of folks.
And giraffes trying to hide in the daisy flowers.
While we were saturated with April showers.
There were earthworms as large as giant red fire trucks
Oozing and itching their way down the green grass
Rapidly squirming their way down the sidewalks of mucks.
Shinier than slimy wet spit on holiday glass.
It was the wettest spring I had ever seen.
The neighbors were so wet, they truly turned into mean.
It became even more wet in my backyard
When three hippopotamuses named Jack, Joe and Jard.
Escaped city zoo, and ran to my little known place.
They were mean to each other, slapping each face.
They tried to sit daintily on my pond’s lily pad.
Flooding my house, and making me really mad.
What would I give up for you?
My morning coffee
The newspaper I rarely have time to read
Maybe a few evenings at the opera
Or perhaps that newer shinier car
I see your image
Flash accross my screen
tiny emancipated body
Fragile
Sad
Glassy eyed
I feel
I see
I avert my eyes
What can I do?
Will it make a difference?
Can I love you who I do not know?
Guilt washes over me
I have so much
Will I be called to account
For my selfishness
Apathy
Ignorance
The heart I lack
My tears
I shed for you during late nights
Phone numbers flashed accross my screen
On my 60 inch HD TV
Remote control in hand
A choice
Do I change your life?
Is it easier to look away?
I can't decide
My phone glowing in the dark
Accusing me
Asking me
What will you give up
My hand trembles
I reach out
Dial
Stretch my heart
Across an ocean
To you
A life worth saving
A story to rewrite
Your village
People you care about
A well
Food for your table
Medicine
A blanket
A difference
I can no longer look the other way
I have seen your face
Looked into your eyes
My coffee
Your new day!
Inspired By Bindu's poem "Prey"
A child in time
Innocence was not youth, innocence was the times
We all sat at the dinner table
Discussions were lively, as adult’s sipped wine
That old Volkswagen, a trunk of memories
Now sitting in the graveyard of old rusty cars
Wishing for shinier days, and a fresh cold coca cola
Frozen in my mind, rusty bumpers, forever a time to cherish
Some dreamed of voyages to space
I dreamed of far away meadows
Where nothing ever changed
Childhoods magically suspended in time
Let me say, time is no ones friend
We spend it easily in our youth
We treasure it like frankincense with each passing day
Love captures our hearts, will time let it stay?
We see the world around us die
Knowing this is nature’s way
Pain, as loved ones fade
Wither away, as we linger on
Day after day
The same questions float in my head
Why do things have to change?
Am I not better off dead?
Love is bound by tears of the heart
A soft kiss or eyes that speak in lustful silence
It matters not, not at all
We must suffer this world as humans do
Me, I shall cling to yesterday
The days of abundance of spirit and youth
I shall dance inside these memories
These are the happy shadows of the past
Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or a secret gate"
to walk, skip, dance or glide through,into yesteryear,maybe centuries ahead.
To put our wrongs right, ability to see fate,avoiding pitfalls
our globe would be a shinier place,abiding what dwells from the secret gate.
I would have my wishes all come true,peace throughout the world
no wars no bombs,nor starving millions,equality nationwide.
The cure for painfull illnesses,would be iminant,purity in the air
a god like feeling tremendously,magicly to perspective.
Being able to view the infinity of stars,sheer beauty imminance
a bus ride away,a planetary outing,dazzling the eye.
Hopping on a shooting star,galaxy we do glide
or sloping down the half moon,pleasuring the slide.
Paul Beadnall for
Sponsor Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
Contest Name In a land called fantasy...