Long Smearing Poems
Long Smearing Poems. Below are the most popular long Smearing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Smearing poems by poem length and keyword.
Since the corona
Faith in humanity
Is lost outta door now
Smearing safety protocol
Under the carpet now
The right to live not upheld
Brings out all kinds scandal ish
The look in their eyes so devilish
A staff nurse came with the flu on shift
Announced to us as patients
Fate brought me and Ismail's lives
A battle for survival
Coz his immune was down
He'd developed a fever
Then he remembers
The nurse's revelation
Made us out to be rebels
Ismail was tested for corona first
They've used my disability against me
With the Lord's help I fought back on
I tested negative I serve a God
He is alive and well
Coz of Him we ain't no
Dead men with no tale to tell
Now ain't no sunshine
Coz it's on
Now it is July
This I'm bringing back
I ain't hitting no road Jack!
You might be 'Gatesville melomed
You're gonna let anyone think
I was a pot that cracked
I Just brought out facts
Form:
Poems are sliding out of my eyes today
Running down my cheeks and smearing my fey
I tried to catch one, but it bit me on the petootsie.
That will teach her, said a new muse name Mootsie.
Mootsie! Where did you come from? I asked quickly.
He bared his pointed teeth and gave me a grin so slickly.
Where is Trixie? I asked, but there was no answer from him.
I think she’s in Calabash, down by the new gym.
Who are you? I asked this new loud interloper who stared.
Who wants to know? She asked. We muses did not think you cared.
My imagination is laughing like a hyena with a sandwich of buttercup.
I had better stop dreaming and make my hazel eyes wake up.
October
….. is mortally wounded!
It sways, strays
across the silken sky
quivering over rusty hedges
shivering through shouldered trees,
splattering, smattering
everything in blood-red.
On it stumbles,
On it tumbles
shivering over the valleys
spearing through the trees
smearing the water blood-red
while the ground offers no sympathy
just a hardened, frigid face.
On it goes,
On it flows
gasping and grasping
at clouds of bandages,
hobbling towards the horizon,
haemorrhaging life
in crimson splashes.
While winter,
no ceremony
nor propriety,
just the sly smile
of an Arctic fox,
coldly awaits October’s
shredded, dreaded last breath!
“Cream Pie”.
We never took a chance,
We wouldn’t make the time.
And I just didn’t care if you were mine?
No now you’re here,
and now I'm there.
You took his love, and his name,
then you married him, to get out of the rain.
And I just don’t care, is there something wrong?
With me?
You’re with him now,
but you can’t say, why?
and he dirties up, the floor,
smearing greasy fingers on decaffeinated walls
and down the hall, the road is overgrown,
all your butterflies have died.
Your river of love, has run dry,
I never said hello,
You never said… goodbye.
And we danced through the
And we danced through a dream.
I've lost all your letters.
I'm staring at the calendar on the door?
Cheap wine burns holes in my memories.
Climbing the walls with my fingernails.
But I just keep falling down,
again, and again, blood smears,
no tears on the ceiling…
I feel your burning embers,
A storm in the distance.
I don’t know what to say as, I walk through the sunset,
the darkness into the rain, again.
When the raging river, runs free,
and the wildfires have died,
you'll have no love,
and you'll have no pride,
Wake me up from this dream,
Only then will I eat… your cream pie….
in the rain.
I wanna eat your cream pie,
in the rain.
Written for Diane S Tar??.
Its also written about you..
(c) London F. Buss
But if you try sometimes...
“I saw her today at the reception”
My eyes filled with changing emotions
In satin gown and fire brand hair
A china doll beyond the display case
Happiness was breathing the air
“In her glass was a bleeding man”
A shadow of someone on the platform
I could see his face wracked in pain
Scars of here and prior altercations
Acid falling in the guise of rain
“She was practiced at the art of deception”
Behind that sequined mask she stood hiding
A smile painted in pastel red
Pretending a friendship is more than just golden
Wishing the other were endlessly dead
“Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands”
Pointing fingers dripping in excess waste
Smearing the drapes of lipstick poetry
Planting a seed of doubt deep within
Smirking as she said these words to me
“You can’t always get what you want”
Written with the help of the Rolling Stones classic - "You can't always get what you want" The italicized lines are lyrics from the song.
It could be true
I often wonder if there is a secret plot.
If the virus was human-made to reduce the number
of people living in poverty, and the old?
The minorities who live in inadequate cold housing have
high risk of catching the pest.
How can the poor keep the distance when living?
In tiny flats they cannot move, a lousy diet makes them vulnerable.
They die in record-high numbers.
It was like smearing the virus in liquid for on doors
and wait.
But the hidden elite was surprised who quickly the virus spread.
It affected their own, even a prime minister,
But he was known for having a loose moral and probably
Got it from a scullery maid, in his circle of toffs it is normal
Sleeping with a maid.
When a sufficient number had died of the vaccine was introduced
They had held back for many months it is free, and we are thankful.
And think not of revolution.
As sordid shadows sully somber skies,
lightning flashes; comb tangled locks of rain.
And thunder's echoing intensifies,
rumbling over and over again.
A ghostly wailing haunts a dimpled lake
pummeled by rain, as a loon calls its mate.
And while the treetops tremble, branches break,
as swirling winds wildly accelerate.
Trillions of drops plummet in a downpour,
and on turbulent waters, whitecaps form.
Waves tethered to the wind batter the shore;
flung by the ferocity of the storm.
Clouds, drawing outside the lines, carry on
smearing charcoal greys across cobalt blue.
Yet, right after, Nature's phenomenon
is followed by feelings of déjà vu.
A Name
“His name shall be called…”
A great statement of His glory.
Yet immediately we reason,
Let’s compare it to your story.
Many problems loom large.
Deafening sound takes the stage.
Often wronged in the attempts.
Your own advice, you are the sage.
We’re hard at life, trying
To keep from playing the fool.
But, it seems, as saying goes,
You’re whipped like a rented mule.
We see the world a worry,
That great misuse of imagination ours.
Expecting all the worst.
Any unseen good only jars.
Quiet in learned helplessness.
It’s always two steps back.
Blame, that great excuser,
Used as a daily hack.
Conceit, that great disease,
Affecting everyone but the carrier.
Changing truths to fit our wants.
Outcomes couldn’t be scarier.
Smearing lines to get ahead.
Or, behold, the over analyzer;
Fitting obscure things together,
It is the great paralyzer.
Comparison, “Is this the best?”
That great thief of joy.
Fear, the great what if,
Satan’s perfect envoy.
Pride, the great enabler,
Seeing you deserve much more.
There’s always a thing to criticize.
There’s always a complaint in store.
You could do it but why bother,
'The mirth of it won’t last',
Regret, brings on sadness.
That great placeholder to the past.
Discouragement, that great crippler,
'Nothing ever has the good outcome'.
Or you have everything in life.
It feels so nice to beat that drum.
To the sum then; Everlasting Father,
Wonderful, Prince of Peace,
Counselor, and Mighty God,
Will straying never cease?
Alas, tis a simple question;
Where does your power stem?
These, His names, are thus written.
Oh, but what do you call Him?
Love takes its toll on every faltering form
Minds are all a blur, a never-ending storm
They all in time take pleasure in other wretches’ pain
Relieving their blistery hearts, subsiding the pouring rain
And as they cite a verse or two, they write it from the heart
Though none of it makes sense at first, at least there is a start
Pandemonium takes the best of a masterpiece at hand
Letting it rot in loneliness, a forsaken piece of land
The mind is screaming sevenfold for comfort and a way
To make others see the good in all that lessens day by day
And the vultures soar upon the earth, with its rancid dead
Stealing away the masterpiece and detaining it instead
They cry in the gravel below for love to overthrow
Never will their cries be heard, and this I only know
For in a deathful life of toil they artfully may say
The words unsaid but written fresh, only to decay
To seep into the ground, and back into the trees
The lead and ink and everything…smearing us free
You ask the evening sun to wait a second in the background
While you stand in the crescent boat with the infatuated sun behind
A black passion in golden lining looking hypnotizingly romantic
The setting sun from behind wants to hug the silhouetted passion
Darkness comes and stands in front providing cover from public view
Enabling the two to get into an enchanting play of black with orange
The waters stand still the wind stops blowing for a fraction of a minute
They gaze at the woman in pitch black hue with golden curves at the chin
Neck and below, a black princess in a hairline gold frame from head to toe
Now in high tide and next moment in a low the boat in a rise and fall
Under the pink inhalation and black exhalation of their deep breath
I stare at for a long time and could feel the love in lovely black spree
We who are blessed enough to see such golden black whispers
As the sun descends gratified splashing orange happiness
And the murmurs of river banks make love with the sprinkled gold
We feel what else we need to have the taste of truth and beauty
Of this beautiful world the disease and death notwithstanding
Look there smearing the smell of silhouette the white owl has come
The beauty slowly disintegrates and dissolves in the shapeless dusk
The happy owl with its enigmatic eyes looking at the time in flux
15/09/2017
For The Contest Silhouette
Hosted by: Craig Cornish