Long Shying Poems
Long Shying Poems. Below are the most popular long Shying by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shying poems by poem length and keyword.
Under the tree in Africa, we sap strength
from the songs of the sparrows before sunlight.
as we walk to the farm, the
morning breeze brush our
body from the billowing branches.
We pick up our hoes and cutlasses
and keep our basket and calabash,
the big Agbadas of the elders and our little
catapult hang on the bole as we plough and plant.
Under the tree in Africa we relish
the radiance of reality as we rest
after the rigor of raising ridges.
we break the dried branches to make fire
to roast the harvested maize;
we stroll with the spirits as we slumber,
listening to the whispers of the wind
and wake up to feast on the roasted maize
with some cold water from the serene stream.
Under the tree in Africa we share
the shield of shadows,
shying away from the sun
as we walk back to the village.
We use our traps to tame birds;
making some meat available mama's,
meal by moonlight, throwing stones at some
ripe fruits we have a feel of freshness
and get some fruit for friends and family,
we get locked in luck as we get lots of grains
and goodies that gives us passion and pride.
At twilight, under the tree is a place to be in Africa,
the elders drink from the cup of culture.
Passing the calabash with love; there is enough Palm
wine and bush meat to go round,
quarrels are settled, feuds are finalized as the echoes
of the evening resounds.
The day's delight are shared, friendships are
found and formed as fresh fragrance flows.
The children chant with vibrating voices, moral
melodies are mimed with clapping of hands under
the tree in Africa.
Graceful games and spirited sports go on as
communal creeds cruise in their conscience.
The elders feed their seeds with the water of wisdom
as they share folktales and facts,the children are charged to
be charming as they listen to the tales by moonlight..
In Africa the women sings with virtuous voices
as they make mats, beads, basket and raffia
under the tree.
nursing mothers keep their sucklings on the mat
for the cool breeze to caress their soft skin,
at twilight, women roll out local pots, mortal and pestle,
to prepare pounded yam and melon soup for their household,
as the food-is-ready alarm sounds, folks and friends
gather to dine and wine as the moon peeps through
the leaves under the tree in Africa.
She walked to the clinic
Her legs trembling
Her heart pounding
She had no choice but to agree with him
Its a decision my made together to do this
He was quite
yet a lot of noise was in his head
pictures of how many times he had done it
were playing in his mind in HD print
He remembered all the kisses
All the different romances
with different lovers
And felt like running away
From this sweet sixteen
They had no choice
he had promised her many times
never to 'release' into her
this time it had happened
Two weeks back
At the Casino
where she smoked her first cigarette
as he enjoyed the pipe
She was scared that her dad would kill her
He was afraid his faithful wife would find out
They were afraid of the disease
They walked together but like strangers
She remembered the first kiss
with him and felt strong
He looked at her sweet eyes
and courage flowed in his veins
like the Nile into dry Egypt
This was only temporary
as they reached the clinic
and met the physician
who looked at them and asked the man
Is she your daughter?
He didn't say anything
She looked down shying away
The doctor got all answers
As he stated the test
She prayed: Dear Lord if you get me out of this
It wont do it again
He prayed: Dear Lord if you only pardon me here
It will never ever happen AGAIN
A prayer God had answered
More than seven times
On different teenagers
She wished If all comes to the worst
at least she walks HIV positive without the pregnancy
He wished at least they find her pregnant than HIV positive
The doctor did well what he was being paid for
As he tested the blood did the urine pregnancy testing
Then came with the results
The way he stood before them it was hard
To predict the result
The man's heart beat faster
The girl breathed harder
The doctor stammered something
None of them heard it
The doctor decided to do the right thing
Give them counsel before the results
They sat like the saint peter's monk and nun
As the man he held paper that had the fate of there future
Spoke for one full hour
They all promised to take the right path
Then he gave them the results
ALL Negative
That night they chose to celebrate
The results together
And
They
Did
IT
AGAIN
Finally after twenty two plus
years of marriage,
a husband (namely yours truly -
hitherto known as Matthew Scott Harris)
exhibits glint of care and concern
toward his significant other,
which wife bemoaned
absent expressions of love
particularly before the
honeymoon even occurred.
I readily admit shying away
from emotional intimacy,
especially toward the gal
whose pledge I trothed
July twenty fifth nineteen ninety six,
(fifteen days hence)
yet even formative years (mine)
scant overtures displayed toward
me father, mother, plus
older and younger sister
(neither non twisted).
A strong suspicion predominates
neurological, psychological,
and social perturbations
commingled while said christened goodfella
developed in utero, whereat genetic quarks
sparked, manifested, and engendered
unforeseen grievous hardship
severely, inexplicably, and figuratively
dislocated, truncated, and uprooted
his promising, (albeit
short lived) blissful boyhood,
which happy go lucky preschool years
abruptly analogously came to crashing halt
soon after setting foot into first grade.
Impossible mission
to tease out telltale explanation(s)
only thru courtesy 20/20 hindsight
can hypothesis be formulated
regarding congenital
chromosomal cellular discrepancy
birthing what appeared a healthy baby
though prone to wailing
without rhyme nor reason,
especially if held
by any person except mother.
At a tender age behavioral blitzkrieg
rent asunder tenuous connections
shattering nascent aggregation
to allow, enable, and provide
healthy interpersonal development
unbeknownst what molecular processes
kickstarted, pronounced, triggered...
wayward son to recoil against humanity
(think how like magnetic poles
repel each other).
Most all mein kampf
scant communication brokered
never establishing linkedin bonds,
nor fostering emotional intimacy
despite witnessing overt caring
among parents who begat me
or siblings, who exuded
natural propensity to comfort each other.
Something so primal as to elicit
heartfelt sympathy I lacked
which aloofness generated offensiveness
essentially buttressed (with flying colors)
hermetically sealed existence (mine)
nsync livingsocial within alien nation.
Telepathic Confusion
It was a tense and passionate gaze.
It locked me in a captivating trance, drawing me in with its irresistible energy.
How could I feel the energy from over here?
Despite my initial hesitance, I found myself unable to resist the pull.
I'm shy but wide-eyed.
It got me wondering why.
Why would I suddenly feel such a pull?
It was as if my mature and composed exterior had melted away, leaving a sense of curiosity and vulnerability I hadn't felt in years.
My mind said don't be another fool.
Besides, this must be a silly phase.
I'm too old and mature.
I can't think of childish fantasies.
I would tell myself that it is impossible to feel such taboo things.
It is impossible to feel such things as accurate.
I can't even say it.
My Tongue twisted.
Even my mind tells me not to do it.
My feelings were intense; it never even made much sense.
The heart has a communication telepath.
The heart's invisible dimension leads straight to your path.
The sensation was inexplicable yet undeniably real. My heart and mind were engaged in a silent telepathic conversation, leading me down a path I never expected to explore.
I had to question if I was a true manic.
Oh wait, I'm not manic.
As much as I tried to rationalize and dismiss it, the undeniable chemistry lingered, leaving me exposed and uncertain.
I'm in a panic.
I can't believe it.
It's really happening.
It's an unrequited, weird, and daunting chemistry.
Of all the people, I'm feeling relatively weak as a dead tree.
It still has piqued my curiosity.
Despite my reservations, I knew I had to confront these unfamiliar and intense emotions with audacity and curiosity rather than. Shying away from them or pretending they didn't exist.
I'll reach out and truly see.
It was time to acknowledge and embrace this uncharted emotional territory.
I'm a fool, and I'm lying.
I could never have such audacity.
I'm timid, and I'll revoke.
I'll turn these feelings from warm to cold.
I'll act like I still don't know at all.
I'll block it out.
Chuck it up.
These are the feelings thrown at me that elevated how I viewed love.
These are the words that inspired me to put everything on pause.
Trying To Access Mine Excel Lent...
Pow War Full Pointed Outlook
As I ponder what to write
today august thirtieth
two thousand eighteen,
thy ploy doth in vite
a gamut of spontaneous thoughts,
that loosely cluster
before becoming tight
lee bound toward
quasi definitive agreeable, amenable,
and attainable in sight
with no deliberate intent
to suppress perspective
couched asper left of political right,
though mine embedded
liberal democratic ideology
automatically shifts, gingerly
escorts, inherently focuses,
and understandably dodges quite
unconsciously, naturally, and expressly
viz zit ting orientation trained mindset
spiked railroad ties to follow
a NON "FAKE" conservative track,
cuz existential plight
of this run of the
NON mill (let) airy night
owl hoot trumpets,
thru his pen chant
pedantic laden poetic might
(albeit gently modest)
with artful badinage,
garbage, and persiflage light
nsync with his (my) being,
an aspiring good (rook key) knight
calculating, formulating, intuiting,
where to shine
his (mine) figurative jacklight
asper shying away
NOT to antagonize
predicated on me
humble extrasensory insight
drawing, distancing, and detaching
metaphorical grip,
sans innate bias height
end from lifetime
steeped within progressive
(forward thinking atheistc) paradigm,
hence impossible to adopt
a totally tubularly neutral
point of view presents avowed challenge
to present opinions of yours truly
without instigating a verbal
and/or virtual gunfight
boot hoop fully friendship,
asper attempting tubby forthright,
and apologizing for
any stinging backlash
if accidental affront,
thus encouraging healthy
discourse without excite
ting vitriolic, toxic,
and/or dramatic dogfight
with this cat tug gar rick cull
poet hood dont bite!
I’m haunted
Taunted
By spirits of the dark
I’m no morning lark
Mournin’ in the mornin’!!!!!!!
So paper-thin…within me…
UNDER my skiN…
I made a new language –
Ignored…angered…an opened refridge –
Once cold, now warm
B/C
I forgive……………
You?
Shying away from the fact that I love you
I, maybe…, hate you??
No, I can’t…
Murder and hate go hand in hand
I just don’t understand
I’m in a COMA…
I’m DYSLEXIC
I’m a labeler to myself
I have boy Alzheimer’s
I have, oh boy, autism…
No offense to others who have these conditions
I’m white…
Despised despite
I’m black
In the inside with spite
But I need HIM…
Right now…
Patience and self-control is needed
Somehow…
So uncertain
So ashamed
In society - a secret curtain
Ove NO-Named
Resentful
Hurtful
Your words mean to me
Beautiful
Ugliful
My words are to thee
Thee saved me…
Didn’t you…oh I c…
See…for those grammar hoes…
Counting my foes…
On my toes…
Countless I must add
I’m a rad lad
I must subtract
Because I’m not exactly
Cute…to be exact
I’m ugly inside and out…frankly
Melony: Ah don’t be so hard on yourself ^^
Me: I must be to be handsome again
Melony: You are handsome though…
Me: Ah no you’re just playing…
Voices…
Can rejoice too
Shoo shoo –
NOISES………
SH!
I’m a rebel
Rebel
Rebel
Drums, come on in…
Piano…play my notes…
Where have you been?
In the rain with coats?
Drums…
Don’t dumb me,
Chips
Don’t mess with these…
Man ****
They jiggle with the remaining skin…
I’m skinny and I’m proud of it
You all are fat and wanna throw a fit
Fat people are awesome tho
So, don’t be offended if I were you
The person in the inside matters more than the outside
I love you, no matter what color
Or shape…
Don’t call me racist or judgemental…
DON’T be negative
And don’t be too +
Gotcha?
Ok good…
Geez la weez…
OMW to meeting some pessimistic freaks
And some mighty cute nerd geeks
In the first instance under the engine chassis,
Battling complex automobile designs in heat,
Struggles to displays sleek lines in tops delight,
Prayers from bystanders so the car never restarts.
Pay this one for pedestrians joy could serve for long:
Tune this second choice hear suspect toolbox voices,
Jack up the workshop bills while he calls you taxi's,
Nurse your headache as he lightens your bank balance,
Plays with the new car creating coughing modules;
He purrs to your call while the cabs enjoy the runs:
The third internet savvy links his performance,
Climaxes your F I formula breed on first date,
Smiles to trigger shivers down your crumbling spine,
Steps to touch land shying away from the moon shuttle flight.
Aspirant with NASA's body reduction fear:
Hungry fellow the fourth on a three wheeler drill,
Floating long white beard to check directional winds,
Deceiving looks to go straight he watches the right,
A four wheeler to bang around he would learn soon.
Reduced pay if you carry extra big burger's:
Forget the last four I am your best bet with gas,
Even bull carts envy my safe slender fast race,
Hundred miles a gallon 24 miles an hour to pace,
What if I need much tea sips to stay awake.
Veteran of Second World War generation:
The sixth battle weary survivor on the home front,
Can take on drivers in the front or rear attacks,
It is the body heat that makes me real mad,
Good Air conditioning is a must so beware.
Suspended drivers license fellows don't understand:
Last but not the least I am certainly not blind,
At night I don't drive have a wife to satisfy,
She worries about my blind date and kiss of fate,
As it is the bright ones do really scare me.
In the day you could watch the wet roads while I drive:
Throw a dice to bell the selected chauffeur real tight;
Updating your insurance cover would be right.
I gat no ing job
All I do is place a daring bet
Sometimes I hit the big stone with my toe
While if luck gat my back, it catapults me like a jet
Madness permits corncob
Yet remain hopeful to have a cot
How come seedling germinates below
When no dropping deposit could have actually clot
Life's race shouldn't be for only ace
Though one needs to be steadfast on his lane
And before hand tighten the golden shoe lace
To avoid the awful onlookers laughter-like-cane
Before pretence make you ale
Try be for everyday as sun and moon ache
Bottom-side-up, toughness won't make chance hale
Its way through fate's hopeful touch of the unknown at stake
On God I lean
Even as flesh gets faith to leach
Empty me of sins and make me clean
Every flaw is free of me but upon him is each
His strength is my will
Driving my steps off "I CAN"
And bless the anxious quills to thrill
Beyond the great proposed altitude span
Imagine a super hen
Grazing on a snowy lea
Then go ahead to feed in a den
Giving òsùbà to lion and lioness via plea
If never suffered acne,
One would simply pray to heal
Its skin lacking favor be put in a hackney
For other hens to learn first how to deal
What if a hand lance
Stunningly to launch and cancel
Will the super hen ever get another chance?
Placed before the brethren on the holy chancel
The pain in its body
Will not bail out the wish to live
In all ramifications be classified bawdy
Even at the expense of grace fortunes give
So soon sun shying
Shall shun skipping sky
So shy sailing saliva silently sighing
See soaked season secretly scouting shall shoot
Blessing unto every eel
In its own world that enrich feeds
Which are rare, lofty and hard to steal
Nutritiously blessed of adequate needs
That late-night messaging in WhatsApp
Will I not call that love..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she shares her frozen dessert with me
When I toss mine purposefully..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she attempts to cover her concerns
Behind her shying grin
When I pull her nearby towards me..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she requests that I book the corner seats inside the theater
So that I can make love with her ..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she snickers constant on my unimportant jokes
Also, I can't prevent myself from watching her..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she makes herself agreeable
In my arms on the patio at evenings
Also, I stray in her heavenly magnificence..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she shouts guiltlessly
When I give her spontaneous amazements..?
Isn't it love..
When after a warmed contention
She messages me.." I'm irate; persuade me"..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she spares each and every penny
The entire year
To get me the simplest birthday present ..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she attempts to call attention to her annoyance
In case I'm late and grins accidently..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she keeps even a chocolate covering
Given by me for a lifetime..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she is tensed more than me
During my test or result days..?
Isn't it love..
At the point when she gets up early every morning
In the desire of wishing me most importantly..?
I know, and I understand that..
Love cannot be defined..
Love indeed has several definitions..
Love has it's different meanings..
However, for me, love is clear ..!!
For me, love is "YOU"
I knew you'd take pleasure in knowing
That I heavily drew myself from the bed,
Feeling for parchment and the familiar cylinder of my pen.
Giving up the rest in favor of curling, inky words,
to unravel the scribbly blends in the stubborn cranium.
Like a geranium aching to bloom,
(A throbbing edge)
So I will say that you are a smug stepstool
To save my toes from a cold mud,
With one, shaking leg that will hold long enough
For me to barely reach a safe pasture.
I always wanted to save you.
I still do.
You scare them all, and your smiles are weighted by a hostile eye.
They are eyes that remind me too well
Of the fish in the drying lakes who swim in doomed circles, circles,
Finningly pacing and withheld the grace of one more pebble to gaze,
The water films and the mudseams split and crack.
I follow my own endeavors with this eagerness,
I trace the string excitedly, and I forget you are behind me.
The house you've begrudgingly withdrawn yourself in
Begins to be but a hermited shadow with a candled center,
A modest flame shying to a nub and finding it quite hard to breathe.
You hoard your waxy lump, your nurse the flame with small gasps.
I pity you.
The fire that once toasted your milky bones struggles
To warms your silvered magnet fingertips, I pity you.
And I go on, off, and away.
My face heavies as I draw the lax phrases to you,
The ones which have swam through hundreds
Of dry mouths and beggarlips.
It is best to decide that I won't give you the satisfaction
Of two pages, a loving couple of salted nothings.
If I did, you would stumble over the edge in a fit of rapture.
I decided to sleep again, with the weight gifted
To your martyry back.
Form: