Long Slide by Poems
Long Slide by Poems. Below are the most popular long Slide by by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slide by poems by poem length and keyword.
i
when the sun is erotic
and the moon lyric
the winds turn tempestuous
in the orbit of love
legs slide by calls of nature
ii
you and I alive
in cold winter night feeling
warmth of your body
through erect nipples
after days of abstinence
iii
before the foamy
water could sting her vulva
a jelly fish passed
through the crotch making her shy—
the sea whispered a new song
iv
swirling spiral
of her skirt spills tides of dream
and memory:
I breathe fire in the dance
forgetting bends and twists
v
when I wanted to change
seats my friend said she can
only if the door’s locked
the light out and her mom
in another city
vi
when I have no home
I seek refuge in the cage
of your heart and close
my eyes to see with your nipples
the tree that cared to save from sun
vii
the smile you weave splits
the sun I lose my direction
in clouds that cover
the banks darkening the white
of the lake moon kissed
(From: my collection of poems Sense and Silence: Collected Poems
(Jaipur: Yking Books, 2010, pp. 200-201)
viii
love’s spirit descends
and melds into her body
lending it new life:
I’m amazed how the unknown
becomes one with her beauty
Time
Stone-faced clock with big black hands
Circling the face time and time again
The second-hand rolls by a recurring space
Never touching the clock with the concrete face
Twenty-four hours slowly slide by
Not to be changed regardless of tries
A second from now, it will be yesterday
The time clock moves forward twenty-four hours a day
It would be a challenge to push the big hands back
Rotation of Earth's twenty-four-hour track
The big black hands are always on the move
Passed memories are all you can choose
By the time you read this poetic line
The second has circled the face of time
How many times a day do you glance at a clock
Or hear the sound tick tock tick tock
Time sets schedules for things to do
Just like a clock, you're on the move
When your face to face with a timepiece, keep this in mind
You can change your clock, but you can't change the time.
Wilapics Art.
06-19-2023
A simple roof to shield from wind and rain,
A tranquil house devoid of stress and strain
Where the flashes of faith and love do shine,
Renders a home the shrine of the divine.
No need for ocean of wealth, grand and vast,
But a peaceful spirit fostered to last,
Harvesting joy, strolling beneath the sky,
Staring at sparkling stars slowly slide by.
To use simple bricks homes to build, isn`t shame,
So it`s with words we choose, verses to frame,
No need for pompous, grandiloquent art
To touch the innermost depth of the heart.
Simple words cutely used sparkle delight,
Illuminate the common mind with light,
In humble verses, the inner self gleams,
Reflecting life's limpid lingering dreams.
High sounding verbiage sounds harsh to ears,
Grips the mind of the bulk of souls with fears~
Simplicity isn`t mediocrity,
But the mirror of true humility.
12/5/20
Are you really on the right side?
Drawing a fine line
Very little or a lot of content on the timeline
Sippin' beer, red and white wine
Hard during the night time
It's almost always hightime
Getting sky high
No reason to always take my time
I've only got a lifetime
In the dark and where the light shines
Going to leave you on the sideline
Saw it coming, nice try
Never did any good being a shy guy
Okay, I'll speak the truth, I am drunk and I'm high
Let's be honest, why lie?
A lot think they are Einstein
Only if needed, will use any of various lifelines
As I continue to heed guidelines
Near and far from a pipeline
Continuing to climb high
Way off in the distance the skyline
Into so much more than Sci-Fi
Stars in the sky shine
Bigger than "Primetime"
Got to make the best of it, or opportunity will slide by
As "Juice Wrld" already said "I don't really like how time flies"
Not looking for a sign, I'm
Going to fight my
Own battles, proving the point of why try?
Because otherwise I either OD, or I die
I'm in my prime and a nice guy
Not a dummy, a wise guy
Don't need anyone's approval or a high-five
Not always going to abide by
People and their demands, in areas with or without Wi-Fi
Really I tried
But was always out of my mind
The cause of my destruction, always being a high guy
More than twice I
Paid the price by
Messing with dry ice
And being greedy when it came to a slice of the pie
Got to cut you off, no longer my guy
Girl you did me dirty, life is finite
It's far past time I
Say bye-bye
Unable to let feelings come to just slide by,
all poets feel life in tender seeing eyes.
Life marinates in a poet's empathy-rife heart,
to then cradle lay emotion in their core
until every angle of feel has been stored.
All a poet reality-feels is written unconcealed
as is somehow required of and for their zeal.
If a poet lives it, they give it deliberate depth
for such is essential to their very breath.
Poets wear a same colored, large-sized bruise
from years of hearing devastating world news.
New's blues lights many a poet's tender fuse.
Empathy demands a poet's sympathy clarity.
Poets take from piles of desperate density
to hopefully give it credible, helpful intensity.
Love, birth, death, life's complexities and simplicities
charge poetic awe, humor and emotional flexibilities.
The sheep in the nearby pasture
Heard what the cows had done
In the building of their rocket ship
And they too wanted one
A few of them shaved for pocket money
Black market wool brings a hefty price
While some went out to Las Vegas
To try their luck at the roll of the dice
First thing they did with the money
Was to spring for Sherman's release
The only one in the family to go to Harvard
Though it was for experiments on his mind which apparently they fleeced
Right away they noticed something odd about Sherman
Something that just wasn't quite right
But passed it off as genius quirkiness
And let that idea slide by
They told Sherman what it was they wanted
Said he had a mad...um...master plan
All the sheep turned and Baaa'd together
What was that, that he just said?
For weeks all they heard was banging and clanging
From inside their farmers shed
The only activity they saw outside
The massive delivery of Dominos crazy bread
One day the shed doors flew wide open
There stood Sherman as mad as acid rain
No doubt among the sheep in the pasture
He was Bonkers, Loony, Loopy...okay Sherman's insane
As he drug his creation into the open
Not a one in the crowd uttered a word
Till little Bobby Black Sheep spoke up and said
Is that a cows udder?...is that what they think that they just herd?!
Sherman took that moment of bewilderment
To swing onto udder #4
Strapping himself inside of his contraption
And shooting off for the stars
Sherman is still up there circling the planet
Did you hear about the phenomenon in Spain?
Just the other day something amazing there happened
There was the pouring of milk instead of rain...
But we know how that miracle happened
And that it came from the udders galore
Cause when your traveling through space like Sherman
What else would udders be for
Just heard from the Pigs...
They too want a piece of this action...
As I prepare to get started with my day
I get hung up along the way
No matter how hard I try to slide by
This man in the mirror that talks to me
Why does he seem to have some kind of hold over me
When I find myself looking up to see
This reflection the mirror cast on to me
Now why won't this man in the mirror just let me be
Why can't he see he has no control over me
When I try to slide away from this
Man in the mirror who stares back at me
He quickly reminds me he has the key
That will set me free to see all that needs to be
What if I disagree with what he is telling me
Yet what the man in the mirror is trying to say to me
He is but a reflection of what others see when I'm being me
Letting me know that it's important to live in reality
He cleverly confronts all sides of me
In a flash, my memory plays out in front of me
Amazing how it plays with the mirror talking to me
Because the man in the mirror is the man in me
Helping me be the best man people see
When I grow to be what I want to be
The man in the mirror puts this reflection on me
So when Jack loses track of jack I will see
The man in the mirror who reminds me
Of what people see and who I truly want to be
8/9/21
So quick to judge me and my life
Fast to stab in the back, causing damage by knife
Quick to turn it into fight time
It's pathetic, are they in their right mind?
Is it better to tell the truth or a white lie?
Only got a lifetime
Why lie?
It's high time
To get it done, before I die
No matter if it's day or night time
Now is prime time
Instead of just being a nice guy
And staying on the side line
I don't give a hoot about the password to the Wi-Fi
Challenge me, and I'll show you a lot worse than what you saw on Sci-Fi
Life is finite
One thing you can never do is buy time
My my
How time flies
Make the very best of it all, since we don't have nine lives
Or the option of having five tries
If you let it opportunity will slide by
Standing there all bright eyed
Are you really on the right side?
Whether during low or high tide
Hard to always see the bright side
Took a night ride
To clear my mind
Who knows what I might find
Before it's officially bye-bye
Dabs all day and night, I'm high
And drunk off this sake, I mean rice wine
Nah f*** it, it's also been beer, whiskey and white wine
Can't control myself, not heeding the guidelines
Wrote about it on my timeline
I drew a fine line
But could never just stay on my side
Seeing the star light shine
While looking up at the night sky
Far too many think they are Einstein
Others are sickos like Weinstein
And some are respected like Feinstein
I am going to write a poem about what do you believe
I believe there is fairy tale
The fairy tale that is written in heaven
The kind that one can only dream of
I believe that it could come true and it does come true
I believe that whatever you want you shall get
I believe there are things in heaven
But you can have them right here, right now
I believe you make things with your own hands
whether making things happen or create a thing
I believe you come full circle - whatever it is
I believe things can only come by the orders of God
I believe in savings - whether it is saving a life or saving your grandma
and lead her to the kingdom of God
I believe in society and that people are good - just misguided
I believe you come for whatever and leave for whatever
But the ultimate goal is give
I believe you cannot give if you can't receive
I believe there is no such thing as hypocrisy
Because those will be weeded out by God
I believe there is no tomorrow as tomorrow is today
I believe the sun will shine on me and on everyone
I believe that rain will come to water the earth and so are storms
I believe God is the ultimate judgement of all
He see things and He knows things and will not let you slide by
So watch it
I believe you can be dullen when you don't listen to God
And ultimately you don't listen at all
I believe you can only receive things from God and only that
I believe things are promises - promises from the God on high
Given to you long ago and just come to effect
I believe things are not mattered if you don't have God
I believe that you reap what you sow
I believe that things will come - whatever it is- if you just believe
God is the ultimate judge, model, and everything one can hope for
So what do you believe?
Poems creep in like spiders, capturing me in web so fair.
Poems slip in like mice, sticky traps holding them in place.
Poems prance in like majorettes, throwing batons in the air.
Sci-Fi dances around in my muse’s brain, taking all the space.
Poems twirl around my dendrite highway, waking me up.
Poems shake me off the bed, landing me squarely on the floor.
I hear the last line, and I think “was that word buttercup?”
Poems laugh at my consternation, their humor I deplore.
Poems slide by on the wings of undiscovered pretty galaxies.
They jump into my head at restaurants when I cannot find a pin.
Poems dive bomb my bed at night, witch-like in their hex-ease.
They throw themselves at me in bathrooms; I simply cannot win.
I do the best I can though, amusing poems in ways I do not dream.
They throw down words I have never heard, and so I look them up.
Poems own me, taking me hostage in a pretty hostage stream.
Did you hear that? I have to know. Was that word buttercup?