Long Smirking Poems
Long Smirking Poems. Below are the most popular long Smirking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Smirking poems by poem length and keyword.
Every moment is a potion mixing
in the adjoinisent wave.
Where possibility falls like raindrops,
leaving you with the wonder of knowing;
how things are to be, how it is to behave.
Do you remember a time the warm summer air
gave birth to hatchlings that cloud-bursted
into your makeshift oasis?
By the Sea a Pool or a Pond, River,
Lake or Stream.
Born out of the blue, streaking
and skinny dipping back in, like a fiend.
R-Will-searching for love's Strombolient Cave,
rippled in urging,- execution of means and way.
Bursting anew into a heat seeking ring;
a resurging the repurposing of will
and union and new beginning from that day.
A whispered hint, a sneak peek from one
that has a hard time keeping a secret.
I must say!
Condensation passes from Her dripping maw,
savors, in understanding,
favors our barrage of desires,
with flavors grinning long.
Possibility indeed falls like raindrops,
bursting wet and pure.
Standing at our precipice,
rapping at our gate,
demuir
circumstances courting you in a belly-dance,
around that trial by fire, pregnant with fertility,
forged by the desire of our contemplate, inspired nativity.
Mystery's lungs breathe in perfect timing.
The sigh, heard as an inaudible
bracelet rattle, singing, opining.
Skipping, smirking, teasing and tattling.
Mother Love in Love in the distance you can hear the humming feminine prattle.
Peddling, a dance of pounces onto bare footing,
for riding atop of and settling, saddling.
in happiness's tantric trance.
Gaia roundabout,
Straddling.
Fairied in a Feminine dream.
Ferried by empathy.
Stitching stitchlings into
hand-maidens and hand-maidens
into the fabrics seams.
Seems as if the Familiar lips,
the atmospheres sway of hips; adept
the sensor censer of Holy Smoke equipped
with Angelic Sound, an anonomous kiss,
above Consecrated Ground is not at all
remiss.
I did not think I was hungry until I wandered into Grandma land.
She had a stack of light fluffy homemade pancake a mile high.
Already stacked on my plate, oozing in warm tasty butter and syrup.
I started to beg off, but then I saw her crestfallen look.
I picked up my fork and took a tiny taste, which was not enough.
You added corn! I shrieked, delighted.
I had not had corn pancakes for years.
Grandma knew they were my favorite!
No one made corn pancakes like she did!
Just the top two, she told me. Wait until you get to the second layer.
Pancakes three and four were peanut butter pancakes.
She watched me devour them.
I was gobbling my food so fast, it looked like I was in a pie eating contest for a new car.
Grandma, you spoil me! I said.
She was smirking and happy and so was I.
This was the best day of my life so far, eating with my grandma,
hearing her stories.
I cannot look at a warm stack of pancakes without thinking of my grandma.
And how thrilled she was that she had gotten me to eat.
I had been worrying my mother, with my starvation diet at the time.
I was twelve, and thought I was “fat” when I was actually merely healthy.
the choking beat of conformity
coagulates internment in the minds
of fascist marches measuring time
shoving tubes filled with dictates
down the gullet of my spirit
wishing to be at least severed
from the instance of alignment
inherent in the laughing dream
which destroys ambitions of rain
-bows arching toward constellations
(a distorted and twisted version of the uni
-verse is still wavering alternative…
…dimensions into the crevice of an animal
eyeing and praying for nothing save rain
and prey to be plentiful despite their screams…)
must keeps the string extending
into nuclear holocaustic burns freezing
specters of old films dissolving
bubbles of arteries swelling grand
-father gasping at the why dangling
in the sky…stratospheric metaphors
…and off-key colors spill like incense
into the flame of creation harkening
dances of concubines combining
their hair like an enigma
lost in the tip of a hum
life splits the secret of the tongue
a hue reflecting djinns of you
releases peace in a white explosion
swimming a thousand curses in sand
blinding in the storm of suffering
until the palliating confusion tears
and the witnesses remain in the caesarian
-section of divided moons of elliptical doubt
orbiting the cloud of world-leaders
scratching the chin of sin smirking…
The Momentous Day
Kevin Davis 2024
They’d talked for weeks and planned it all, Prepared for this momentous day. Their gear was stacked with soldier’s pride; each item placed the proper way.
They’d mapped the angles of each step, convinced their scheme was ironclad. Their boasts to friends had sealed their fate— Today they’d prove how brave they were.
At dawn they slipped into the yard, The grass still wet with silver dew. They tiptoed past the puddled dips like veterans marching two by two.
A crowd had gathered—neighbors, kids— Some cheering loud, some smirking low. The boys called out for quiet air; The world obeyed and hushed its glow.
Beneath the oak, their treasure lay: Crackers, rope, a weathered crate. From here they’d rise to heights unknown, to claim the title “truly great.”
A coin was flipped. The winner stepped onto the crate with steady pride. “Like Armstrong,” he declared, “we climb for all who dare to dream this high.”
He grabbed a branch and hauled himself onto the limb with trembling might. He looped the rope, let down the end— His brother rose into the light.
At last, they perched on higher limbs, two kings surveying all below. The world seemed small, the breeze seemed grand, their hearts beat fast with quiet glow.
But through the mist a sound cut sharp— A voice no child could misinterpret. They scrambled down, reclaimed their stash, Adventure ending, pride deserted.
Their mother’s cry split through the yard, A thunderbolt of pure distress: “Get out of that tree before you break your necks— And wait till your father hears about this!”
My grandpa shocked a copper
Flashed him with a toothless smile
Dropped his trousers, bared his bottom
Like he’d planned it all the while
Nicked him good and proper
You'll be locked up for the night
You can't go baring all your bits
And giving folk a fright
Questioned later in a cell
Tell me why you flashed your butt
And why on earth you did it
Smirking like a mangy mutt
He blamed it all on grannie
Said that it was her idea
She had a strange solution
To the problem on his rear
The copper asked what she had said
To make make his manic dash
Grinning like a Cheshire cat
And giving folk a flash
Well he'd told her of the boil
That was hurting on his bum
He couldn't even take a seat
Which made him feel so glum
So how is she the reason
The duty copper said
You were smiling, you were flashing
And not at home in bed
She's always said a problem halves
If you will only share it
But this time all she said was that...
I’d have to grin and bare it
178 months, 129940 hours,
now only 10 minutes remain.
Sitting in cold eerie darkness,
he observes the rhythm of water drops,
slowly wipes away streams of sweat
with his withered trembling hands.
That aching fear, gnawing in his fevered brain,
spasms of fear demanding flight
yet none to be had,
his inner soul asking why he had lost his way
why had his sad life come to this?
What lay in the caverns of darkness ahead!
Wardens pace up and down like wolves,
stopping to stare with compassion less eyes - smirking.
Waiting for the clock to chimes 12 times,
and to shout, 'dead man walking.'
He sits savoring every last breath,
rapidly repenting for all his past mistakes,
deep inside he knows its too late for regrets.
All his apologies fall upon deaf ears.
Flashes past seen, his crimes, girls and drugs, what a blast!
Pretty girls, each taking a slice, of his hoarded treasures
and he indulging in theirs with total abandonment.
O' glorious were those dead and ancient days!
Then reality came back to bite and bite hard,
saying, " such foolishness was a dream and soon comes Death"!
Too hard to bear such truth, he rushes back into fleeting dreams.
Suddenly cold, very cold he feels the deafening bleakness!
Sees the finality in the concrete and iron bars holding him.
Cries silently, what he wouldn't give for another day,
another dawn out in sunshine and fresh air!
Then reality and Fate both spoke to him saying,
" Tho' you a doomed man, meet thy death as a brave one."
Each heart beat beats with each ticking second.
He clutches his worn bible, readying himself for what lies ahead,
anxiously contemplating if he is worthy of redemption.
Rocking back and forth, unable to control floods of tears,
his thoughts are disturbed with a truncheon rattling his cell's bars,
and the dreaded final summoning of his name.
Wolves smile with sly eyes, as the stench of death fills the air.
Fellow inmates turn their faces to the ground.
He savours every step, he knows they are his last.
God is no longer the master of his condemned fate.
He knows he can't erase the crimes of his past,
but takes solace, feeling his crimes were not premeditated,
but now he must face the hypocrisy of his own premature death.
Silent One collaboration with Robert Lindley
17 December 2017
Split two razors and a line of coke
Exhale the dimes and swallow the smoke
Nine-twenty-one, eighty-six
Gamble my life like lottery picks
Cry tears of blood and see what your god does
Bringing future problems
To those who so desperately want to solve them
And to think that I could be all but immortal
Swap Sorrow and throw my sins through a portal
How did you make my list
The elements that have gotten me pissed
Tears no longer fall from my left eye
What more can I do, besides consume meth and die
“Curious to know why”
No one wants “Sweet” to reach the top
Better yet pull out the heat and beg them to stop
Now I’m more than desperate to leave such an ungodly world
Depressed as a toddler that’s oddly curled
The accusations you brought
The courtroom battles I’ve fought
I’ll never make it to heaven
For I could never forgive you
The only punishment
Is to lift you from hell and give you
I’ve taken this community to a level
In which the sunrise ain’t even elevated, Ever!
Just another angel with forehead extensions
Suspect is inching
Next to me, your platform is a pondering invention
Only faces with political smiles receive honorable mentions
Got a purple heart, for smirking in the dark
Jotting things down with my right hand
Seems you got to fight to stand
And I’m back from the edge of town
Carrying a bloody sledge, my heavily hearted frown
Ours is one nation, under God;
a God who rules not by division
but by his children's combined strengths;
a God who governs not by inflicting
pain and suffering, but by healing; a God
who loves not power but the Power of Love.
A God who gives all to His Creation, furnishing
our needs as a mother nurtures her newborn.
A God who does not hoard and accumulate but
releases to share. A God that does not
threaten and condemn but reasons and
forgives. America has turned from Heaven
opting for a New World Order. America has
adopted the primitive religion of Instinctive Man.
Forgotten the realization that, the Devil is not always
a horned creature with a maniacal laugh...but,
in fact, more often than not, the evil reflection we see in
a mirror, the worship of a Godless smirking self.
Vote them Out!
CALL ME ALIEN
Finally, my blood began to coagulate
At last I was reverting to my true form
No longer that puny human organism
Do not mistake that smile for altruism
My smirking at your pain is the norm
Your form I’ve used and grown to hate
I have lived on Earth for so many years
I’ve done my duty and not complained
Gathering of intelligence to understand
How best to do what we have planned
This crazy species cannot be explained
And their end time is here, it appears
For me, I’ve played only a minor part
As into their society I have now grown
With none suspecting who I really was
Why did they accept me - just because
All the time believing they were alone
With feelings in that thing called heart
I’m glad that soon I’ll be out of here
Back to my original world so distant
None of the stuff claimed as humanity
I have even learned a little profanity
With my own values, it’s inconsistent
Let all these soft humans shed a tear
If I cannot get back, my duty is done
I’ll enjoy their pain, seen at first hand
It will start with a massive black cloud
And I’ll laugh as they all cry out loud
I will be relieved when my people land
And relish the warmth of a second sun
where are your eyes in the 11th hour?
do they roam to and fro, roaring
with insipid power, baiting the hook,
fishing for retractable men?
where is your nose in the 11th hour?
is it sniffing out a cesspool of plots,
hanging with odious men by the fire,
drawing in men with deceptive smoke signals?
where is your mouth in the 11th hour?
are you rambling out rhetoric, grandiloquent smut,
smirking, curling your lip, your serpentine tongue
slithering and snapping up every adamic crumb?
where are your ears in the 11th hour?
are they trembling with vibrations of horror,
jingling change from restless legs, harkening to
every pandering pain - every wicked wile?
where is your touch in the 11th hour?
are you reddening faces, tenderizing
every black and blue artery and vein,
darkening the skin of Eve like a cancerous cloud?
~ ~ ~
in the 11th hour, her kind eyes shower,
with rainbow tears, leaping upwards,
bowed in reverent fear, insightful and wise,
vigilant and circumspect.
in the 11th hour, her nose drawn to scents,
yes of honeysuckle and baby powder
but also the downpour of the poor and sick,
attentive to the stench.
in the 11th hour, her mouth soothes
with compassion, just and good,
sensitive to worn out souls, smiling
tenderly, speaking at chosen times.
in the 11th hour, her ears ever alert,
pierced by the outcry of Eve’s children,
drawn to lilting laughs, lullabies and psalms,
anywhere a helping plea sounds.
in the 11th hour, her touch gentle and soft,
changing diapers, dusting off tears, foraging food
for her family and the lonely, handing out hugs,
midnight feet tucking in the sheets.
~ ~ ~
Indeed, the 11th hour is here,
a time where good is called bad
and bad pronounced good.
In the overcast skies,
the spread of candlelight
like stars, so mercifully bright.
As midnight strikes,
each star is gathered like wheat,
the sun and the moon fall asleep.
4/2/2019