Long Sociallove Poems
Long Sociallove Poems. Below are the most popular long Sociallove by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sociallove poems by poem length and keyword.
Examining love from all different angles, one can come to appreciate the connection
how it is so often used as the vehicle, by which we share with others our deepest
affection
and this love no matter how much we have, never do we seem able to get enough
yet had we been forced to live without it, we would find living in starvation just too
tough
This constant need to possess a measure of love in our life, must be part of that
divine plan
enabling us to maintain our emotional health, and affording us a way to become a
better man
perhaps an additional reason might also be, to share a little of our love with those
in need
we can become so lost in our materialistic world, easily forgetting to pursue this
noble deed
The greatness of man’s creation exists from within, and lies dormant for us to find
accepting the fact that we are spiritual beings, and the most unique of our kind
innate potential to reach the highest of heights, in the service of our Creator
choosing wisely to do good, while rejecting evil, and thus becoming even greater
Fooling yourself with alluring transitory pleasures, this world leads you astray
fleeting momentary happiness, causes you to believe you are here to stay
furthest from the truth you could never be, because ultimately all will see
when the end of that long road arrives, you too, will be just another deportee
Only with constant toil and unremitting effort, could we think it possible to overcome
to successfully subdue evil that is now a part of you, would be nothing short of
awesome
better to consider the end, when your immortal soul will be in need of an abode of
its own
what a tremendous loss it would be indeed, for your soul to be left in the dark and
all alone
Spent your whole life scrawling runes in the sand
your whole world etched out in tropes
arcs from beginning and end unto skyline
been there done that, I can comprehend you
don't wanna ever be there again though
I miss my time with you
I loose my skin to let some air back in
sinking in at the speed of time
what sound does it make when you stop to look at it
not the steady tick of the clock at all
more a soft scream into the thickening moonlight
I tense at the chill of the megale wind
dead men studying dead men that studied dead men
but who here really wants to live forever
raise your hands and we knock you off
overboard, buh-bye
Hygieia, for the breath in my lungs
Dionysus, for the drink in my veins
Le Moirai, for the lines I've crossed
Tyche, for the lines I shall remain
The blood taste in my mouth makes me wince
it's not overbearing, it's just that
it's barely noticeable at all
so I think of the one and his taste for blood
perhaps not lust, but a form of negligence
The crescent wisp, the knife in palm
striking earth where the crumbs have fallen
yet I meet you here and now
on the waves with no ship
dance of the salt and sun along the northern branch
Mon coeur est triste
j'espère que vous savez mon chemin
ma naissance est une disjonction
entre l'honneur et la famille
Artemis, for the food in my belly
Demeter, for the crumbs in my bowl
Hera, for the woman of my life
Eros, for our love and love alone
It’s New York’s very own,
Making Poetry-Soup his home.
For we all know his caring heart,
From his loving, caring, honest remarks.
Not only does he remodel homes,
His watchful eye loves to roam,
On Poetry-Soup late at night,
To bring us humor and delight.
There’s times he speaks of things,
That pulls on our heartstrings.
He’s his own masterpiece,
With loving beauty that’ll never cease.
I read his comments everyday,
And love what he has to say.
Michael Torres you’re our friend,
Someone special I’d recommend.
You’re a kind and loving soul,
That we’ve all come to know.
And a fine contemporary bard,
This poem’s for you, with my regards.
Michael, this poem is for you and it's my way to thank you for all of your beautiful and loving
comments. You have been a blessing and an inspiration in our lives and in our poetic
journeys. Your love overflows in every area of your life. Poetry Soup would definitely not be
the same without you, my friend. I hope my words are accurate to some degree, if not drop
me a comment and I will correct them, Your poetry and comments are more than a piece of
literature, They’re more like the chronicles of Michael Torres. With love, peace, and respect
from one poet to another...Raul Moreno
Love takes time to grow ever eternal
They say love is blind, though I do not think so.
The bond is breathless and overwhelmingly vast,
Building of new friendships and more to know,
Friends may stay friends or become lovers.
Lovers may forever bond or drift back to past
Building of new friendships and more to know,
The bond is breathless and overwhelmingly vast,
Two may depart but stay so close at hand.
Both, either or, may decide to let it go
The bond is breathless and overwhelmingly vast,
Building of new friendships and more to know,
Future endeavors make it hard, not to concede.
That will always be memories that last.
Building of new friendships and more to know,
The bond is breathless and overwhelmingly vast,
When children are formed by the bond between two,
A link formed forever in their beautiful glow.
The bond is breathless and overwhelmingly vast,
Building of new friendships and more to know,
Whether successful or not, a true mystery is love,
Each of us continues to fall as love spells are cast.
Building of new friendships and more to know,
The bond is breathless and overwhelmingly vast,
Form:
O joyous Love-Of-Things Day,
O LOt Day, coming near,
I've bought a lot
To give a lot,
To lots of friends so dear.
And lots are coming my way,
Of flashing things so good,
And in a lot
I'll take a lot,
Like every Lot-man should.
For I'm a Lot-man, it is true,
I love a lot the things I do;
I love a lot of each live day
I work a lot for my loved pay.
I plan a lot for coming dawn,
With lots of profits piliong on;
I think a lot 'bout doing right
For all my keenest joys so white;
And then I stand with hands on hips,
A smile of pride upon my lips;
I see a lot of things around
That men have stood up on the ground,
A lot of towers, lots of cars,
And lots of spaceships aimed for Mars;
A lot of music moves me, whole,
And fills me lots with beauty's soul,
And lots of lines of happy poems
Come skipping through from sunny tomes,
And inspiration, lots on lots,
Grabs me with its perkling plots,
Till I, a real-man, sing my praise
To Merry Lot-mas all my days!
O Merry Lot-mas, made by men,
Bring them lots of joy again!
And Merry Lot-man, man that's me,
Make your lot prosperity!
With my hands held high, I'm stepping up & I'm stepping out,
to show my love of life, as I hold true to myself,
true to my word, which is to be seriously accepted & positively heard.
There's no mistaking just where I start or where I end,
There's no hidden message , when I call you friend.
I, can't be denied the love I have for my heritage,
or be judged by the color of my skin.
So don't look behind me, there's nothing to see,
Don't judge who's around me because, there won't be
Don't hold back, when it's not me
or lie because you're not sure what to believe.
Allow the words of my soul to soak in & through you flow,
For my word is, what holds me to be gold.
In these fields of words, there's treasures to be, told.
While I lay in the brown color of my skin, my heritage
my house hold, where I, was, brought up in
We can't be segregated or divisibly separated
due to our skin being shaded.
We can't fall or be evaded.
We rise to make it or nothing at all,
We strive with no reason to hide.
Pushing on with, our sworn love to our Brown Pride
A young man holds a man.
He holds his lover softly,
And he finally understands that he can love someone purely.
He never thought he could.
You painted them perverted and confused their desires,
But as the years grow cold their love grows strong,
And they finally see what they have always dreamed.
A young man lies in bed at night and holds the man he loves tight.
He holds his lover purely.
Their hearts beat chest to chest,
And the warmth of bodies becomes a gift.
You cry for families where children are raised,
But love is the pleasure of the marriage bed.
They hold each other,
And share all they want to be.
They fight together with love.
They are a family!
A young man sits beside a man and wants to hold his lover openly,
But locked, cold minds
Would never take the time
To see behind
Their ancient set of values.
A hateful land
Would not understand,
Would not even try.
That is enough to make a young man cry.
Well you have picked a subject; I do not like to talk about anytime.
However, here goes what I think about and try to live by, in my days.
I was not liked well and I was shy, a real loner in my prime.
I know I think way to much, all the time, every minute, in many ways.
I am quiet, except when I get to know you, my secrets I never tell.
My feelings I keep to myself, only letting them out in poetry accounts.
My life mostly, made up of work, whether on the job, or home as well.
I am a complicated man; so deep, my split personality mounts.
I feel my heart is pure, though I know I am a sinner, I try my best.
I have had many friends, but never any best friends, that have been forever.
However if you are a close friend to me, I will give you all my total zest.
All my poetic words I recognize, they flow from my muse, who is clever.
I love the simple things in life, and live to love my mate with all my might.
I hate laziness, deceitful people; I believe the New Testament is the only right.
Oh, I Love Poets …
Here is Why: Explore-It …
I Love The Way We Speak
I Love The Way We Think
And Seek and Link and When On The Brink
Of The Flow of Life … The Way We Drink …
I Love The Way We Pour-It
On … and Oh, I So Love Poets
Oh, I Love Poets …
Here is Some More-of-It …
The Way We Exercise Freedom of Speech
Sometimes, We May Actually Even Teach
All Times … We Are Truly Trying To Reach
at least One, if not Each … (while We Preach) …
but, They’ll Overlook or Get-Over-It
Oh, I Do So Love Poets
I Love Poets …
Simply, Can Not Ignore-It …
We Are Determined to Make Talk, Très Chic’
All Topics, from Looney-Tunes to Tolstoy-Tragic
Deep Thoughts and Themes and Tags-Unique
“for A Rose by Any Other Name, Would Smell As Sweet”
… but It Would Not Sound So Fantastic !
If It Were Not Said, So Poetic …
So, I Do Love Poets
And What They Do, I Do Adore It
New or Classics and How They Wrote It
Oh, How I Do Indeed, Love Poets …
We clad ourselves in colors as we march,
saluting independence through a foggy dream;
gazing at the night alight with flashes,
sparkles,
and firefly screams.
Rockets made in China, cascade/
to the backdrop of the Star Spangled Banner;
a flutter to the wind blown flags made in Brazil
and "I Love America Pins" upon our lapel;
(made in Mexico).
We stand on oceanfront (it’s owned by France)
gazing ‘pon the open sea,
the port is owned by Saudis/
but at least we stand here free.
Our hands steadfast upon our chest,
saluting whichever freedoms still remain,
those freedoms, their going fast;
and they’ll disappear one day.
We gaze into the abyss of night,
the twinkling tears that kiss our cheek,
immersing ourselves in awe of moment,
before it fades our dreams to sleep.
We stand enamored with this land,
the love that lurks within our hearts,
we celebrate this love/
...in part;
fore tomorrow, standing is banned.
Form: