Long Sleeved Poems
Long Sleeved Poems. Below are the most popular long Sleeved by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sleeved poems by poem length and keyword.
Someone help me please,
I feel so lost,
The snow is deep,
The streets are dark,
Unfriendly people
Come at a cost,
I left my red scarf
As a mark,
It’s gone,
But so sleepy, thought,
I’d have a nap,
Last I remember,
Is my yawn!
Has been a busy night,
Santa and Rudolph
Will miss me,
To make sure,
Will tie my
Shoe around this snow
Adorned acorn tree!
Only a short snooze,
For I fear and dread,
To be left behind,
What would lay
For me ahead?
A villager passing from
A nearby farm,
Heard my sleepy voice
And from beneath
A pile of snow
Saw my blue sleeved arm,
And one tiny
Shoeless foot,
Half frozen,
The man knew
He had no choice,
But to awaken me,
For I’d surely freeze,
If left there,
In this bitter breeze!
A hot glass of milk,
A buttered bun,
Sounded to me,
To be a lot more fun!
I’m lost, sadly sang the elf,
Santa and Rudolph
And the gang,
Must have taken off,
I fear to see a
Wolf with fang,
What should I do,
Will you help me?
Address North Pole
Is all I know!
Villager and elf walked on
Hand in hand,
Leaving footsteps in the
Fluffy snow like sand,
The stranger seemed
So kind,
Was this villager
Assigned?
Of course he was,
And with a spin
And whirl we found
Distraught Santa,
Inside his house
Beside his spouse,
Address, North Pole!
A miracle Santa declared,
And looked around
But there was no one there!
There it stands, desolate and alone
That roofless shell where the winds
Still whisper of the past
When scampering children's squeals
And wheeling seabirds' cries
Rose thinly through the air.
A thatched croft from which a healthy living was scraped
A shirt-sleeved man, braces showing,
Bald pate bunneted against the sun,
Bent over to tend his plot
An aproned woman cheerfully shooing away the hens
To collect the eggs for the evening meal
Beside a silvery sea stretching
To the horizon
Hiding the city lights and its imagined pleasures
Until those dreams drew the young away
Watched sadly by the elderly pair
Their exodus damning
The island to its desolation
Where still the birds' cries squeal
And the wind through the grass softly whispers
Surrounding the now silent croft
In the salt sharp air
What homely pleasures such a life once offered
Now the graveyard of fading memories
While the once busy city streets
Stand empty drained of life
As the virus continues to take its toll
Look in my closet and what will you see?
First is the shoe holder hung on the side of its door.
It holds shoes sometimes not matched up and some I rarely wore!
Tightly pressed together are many clothes you’ll see.
I think you’ll find them hung here quite haphazardly.
There are lovely tops and sweaters in many style and hues.
Many are clothes from which an average sized woman could choose.
See the cute black velvet-feeling top I’m looking at now
with its many white-faced cats saying “Are you kitten me right meow?”
A nice, red button-down Christmas sweater has black beads for trim.
It hangs close by a bunch of leggings ready for the gym.
A sweater that’s embroidered with flowers pink and blue
hangs near a long-sleeved dress with flowers on it too.
A practical black shawl is hung above a pair
of faded blue jeans which at times are too tight to wear.
A Rudolph top so playful hangs nearby an aqua suit.
A modest skirt this suit has and a scarf that is so cute.
Another skirted suit outfit has black stripes over gold.
Near it is a dark blue dress with a slit up the side quite bold.
Oh, here’s another suit of gold and checkered in design.
The pairs of jeans in here (if you can locate them) must number at least nine.
A leopard leather jacket with sexy pants so tight
is near a flared-out, long, bright skirt and a blouse that’s white.
A long blue fluffy bath robe hangs aside a purple-dotted top.
There are so many other things, I think I soon should stop.
On the shelf above the clothes are many purses; in a box
are lots of different types of belts and some holiday socks.
You’ve seen enough by now. But oh, my summer clothes!
They’re in a spare room’s closet. No time to show you those.
President Elect Alexandria Ocasio Cortez - 2024
Circa...Approximately one month
following her thirty fifth birthday
October 13th, 2024
AOC became the first
female commander in chief,
and youngest person ever
to assume Oval Office
amidst landslide victory
among competing candidates
ousting current establishment incumbent,
elected to serve United States
despite being neophyte,
she received most
votes of any contender
since founding of Democracy
to assume modestly furnished
Capitol Hill - Washington
District of Columbia
most powerful post
within the United States
immediately electrifying North America
with her megawatt smile
crackling, snapping, and popping
with positivity, integrity, energy...
Deafening applause swept across nation
upon ascending dais prior to uttering one word,
she immediately wowed
darling of the hour received standing ovation
across greensward donned bajillion crowd
cheering, imploring, pumping...
green sleeved fists acclamation
action speaking decibels
louder than words bowed
young lady brought to genuine tears,
asper bona fide accreditation
understandable that newly
minted ma'am felt proud
to stride rite, (an air of modest
confidence) did enshroud,
sans an angelic halo augmenting
as optimistic words heard aloud
heralded sincere charming, intimating,
radiating... no frills accustomation
as if pledging troth to every citizen
(inclusive every flora and fauna) vowed
to steer ship of state toward ecologically,
environmentally, essentially...activation
away from fossil fuels shifting energy
consumption vis a vis alternate modalities
sow rejuvenation plowed
back into Earth prioritizing monied allocation
(dollar amount well worth investment) actualization,
where future generations will be grateful
to dead recent forebears for gift endowed
worth more than fine spun gold regarding
preservation of Gaia, how *****sapiens adaptation
made existence for all living creatures
(animals, plants, even this fungi) healthier allowed
populace to breathe easy and rest assured
quality of life for billions (ushering universal
family planning), despite tense adjudication,
especially when linkedin with
nuclear warheads disavowed,
but eventually kickstarted synergistic administration.
Through shoeless feet I feel
The ground trembling
I thrust my fist into the air
And pump it up and down
The blast of the horn drives me back a step
I yell, but my voice will not rise above the beast’s roar
My heart’s beat begins to match the rhythm from the sound
Of its massive wheels and my head swoons as I watch the cars gently roll from side to side…Powerful and terrifying
It seems to lift me off my feet and pull me closer
I am afraid the steel monster will devour me
My legs will not let me back away
At last I see the bright red caboose
I wave my arms wildly and in answer
To my exaggerated welcome
A grey sleeved arm
Slips out the window
The gloved hand waves
The roar subsides
The trembling vanishes
On weakened knees
I cross the tracks
I have seen them stand outside my door,
pleading mother to help stage their show,
on our verandah with stony floor,
tattered clothes, hungry child, wife on tow!
dusty robes speak of miles he walked,
two woven baskets on wooden yoke,
usual wares with which he embarked,
a venomous trade to feed his folks!
with widened eyes I saw him sit down,
his sweat pouring down in summer heat,
mopping face and brow with long sleeved gown,
asks favour of water, food to eat!
rested and nourished his show is on,
a crowd of urchins get a free peep,
melody like from an old car horn,
he blows sharp and sweet but yet so deep.
speckled cobra nearly five feet long,
rocks in anger with an open hood,
heat of summer is no time for song,
disturbed from slumber, how very rude!
As child was overawed by his skills,
such deadly snakes controlled by his Been*,
there is tragedy behind each thrill,
truth of life, often hidden unseen!
snake charmer’s life is twin tragedy,
education denied from a child,
for snake it is to be in custody,
to lose their freedom to rule the wild!
let’s solve this tale with education,
help their children go to a good school,
use their skills to help conservation,
so the snakes roam free, the wild to rule!
*Been a musical flute made from a coconut shell used by snake charmers to distract the snake
Premier contest winner (3)
Written 4/01/2021
9 syllables each line except one that has 10 syllables
‘The Snake Charmers’ poetry contest
Kai Michael Neumann sponsored
The torch is raised
To the height of an elbow
Its flame pronged
To the flicker of a pitchfork
The sunrise charges over a hill
For old man
Winter
And under this sun on March One
The eave troughs of our house
Still cling to the grip of winter
Growling silver fangs
And crying long tears
Resisting the pry of the flowering season
Finally succumbing
Plummeting
Through the sponge of snow
Below
To slip away forever
Into the streets steaming
Like opened rivers of fish leaping
Hooked on lines
While chunks of ice
Dislodge from corners outside the house
Avalanching
Loud as silverware drawers in the kitchen
Opening and banging shut
Makes you turn
Look
And wonder who is so angry and why
Downstairs
A boy
In a short-sleeved shirt
A stoned graveyard digger
At the end of my driveway
Uncovers the drain
And its copper coins buried from autumn
And with that iron resurrection
The afternoon is engulfed by a rush of waterfalls
From rooftops and balconies
Banks of snow
The whole cliff of the planet
Washing away
Cleaned to its streams and lakes
Some of us
Lift our feet
Before, we too, the worn and tired
Are swept away by this light of spring.
Ragazze o Pagliacci?
The lavish lips, exaggerated eyes
are painted on an hour before we meet you.
The art lies in our impact, when we greet you.
You see emotion, but it’s enterprise:
The punter gets the treatment while he buys,
but not for long. The trick is to repeat you:
to suck your proteins out, and then excrete you.
There’s nothing real about us – colour, size,
emotions. All prosthetics, patches, dyes.
Before we pull you down, we overheat you:
distraction is our tactic to defeat you.
You’d blame chameleons for their disguise?
Go rail at Nature. We’re designed to cheat you.
The static smile, laconic laugh, are lies.
A Functioning Drunk
Let no-one doubt that Canio’s in control!
A true-born leader, that’s how he’s perceived,
relaxed-but-ready, square-jawed, rolled-up-sleeved.
Protagonist his predetermined role,
in pole position (emphasis on pole!),
the sort who, should he feel himself aggrieved,
turns vicious. Preternaturally peeved,
not unacquainted with libation bowl
(or arma bianca, so the clown alleges),
as blunt as basalt, brittle as obsidian,
he might at last have passed his high meridian.
Look closely, and he’s frayed around the edges.
His pack, who’ve started driving in the wedges,
will turn to Baal-Berith on the death of Gideon.
Wanting the Shaft On
I think I’ll name your thingy “Solomon”:
the Queen of Sheba really liked his wood.
I love it when I get your column “on” –
it’s all to do with stimulus and blood.
I serve you in two offices, like Taft.
The other? No, he’s never understood.
Good skippers keep a watch-out, fore and aft:
I know he’d like to, not so sure he could!
I’m built for seamen. Such a nimble craft,
impressive hold for such a shallow draft,
and very steerable at either end
(one thing that he will never comprehend).
You want to move me? Make me feel the waft
of wanton winds, and see my sails extend!
BANG
BANG
BANG
A repeated rapping on my door..
Weary eyed and drowsy,
I lost my balance and met the floor.
BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
"Open up you lazy bum, open your door!!"
I gather myself after the fall,
stumbling into the wall.
It took me a while, but I reached my goal.
"About time"
my friend said ..
He wanted to hit the strip club.
Depressed from lost love.
Hungry,
with the sex munchies,
reluctantly,
I gave in.
I get dressed like a female
so it took some time.
I had to grease my braids,
cover with a plastic cap,
to shower..
Shave my face...
What to wear?
as I stand naked and stare.
I chose a white long sleeved under shirt
Ralph Lauren jeans.
A red pullover vest,
strapped silver around my neck,
With high top Jordan's on my feet.
Red,
To match my attire.
Tie my Durag tight,
white,
covered by my NY cap,
red.
which I had bought the day before.
I am big on my appearance.
We started the night of right,
put something funky in air.
Alcoholic mixed drinks,
This is how we prepare.
Glossy eyed and tipsy,
pear shaped booties everywhere.
Short mini skirts,
spaghetti straps,
and stiletto's.
Chances to flirt,
inspired and relaxed,
my confidence grows!!
another one night stand,
perhaps....
I dance!!!!
Jared Pickett
1/23/2010
Asavvy1
I watched, fascinated, as the tall lone boy
in line to ride the Scrambler
stuffed handfuls of peanuts in his mouth.
This was the same boy I had spied just an hour ago
further down the way
where thirteen seemingly ravenous, foolish people
bent their heads to plates, and with hands behind their backs,
plunged their faces into myriads of pies.
He hadn't won the contest but had come rather close;
the nuts he was eating now replaced the pies he'd fed his face.
But telling stains of blueberry and meringue remained
upon the long sleeved shirt.
The line for our ride proceeded at a turtle's pace
till finally we got into our seats.
Secured inside, we waited to begin.
Close by, I saw the boy unbutton
the top of his already loose baggy jeans,
a timely gesture I would say!
Then folks around us howled
as round and round we went.
Perhaps some screams held terror.
Mine held only delight.
And when the ride was finished,
we exited as quickly as we could
though giddy from that sweet rush of adrenaline.
I glanced a final time at that strange lad.
He stooped and sputtered something to the ground:
a few whole peanuts and a couple of blue tinged chunks.
Disgust was worn on the faces of the onlookers around us,
but only I was well aware of all the food
he’d still managed to hold down!
He wiped his mouth on one long sleeve
and stared right back at them;
well, I declare,
he headed straightway toward a fragrant hot dog stand.
.