Long Soiling Poems
Long Soiling Poems. Below are the most popular long Soiling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Soiling poems by poem length and keyword.
"Ha-Em Iucundum"
"Puki Mi-ah"
Written By: Tegato Utaguci
Pronounsious Onfee' Muxell IV.: is what his name was his lenergage began in in 1867, he was born Feburary 29, 1996 a leap year they kept the date on his birth certificate. He marred Nittill Bueuberst of the Hulltyme and Gulstram family. The structure and contents of there relationship were defined by there desire to collaborate and consider. They described there love as from smile to a devilish smirk; it was evident to everyone that loved them that they loved one another and an investment into there togetherness would yield a profit. A friend of the woman spoke to her and said we know ya'll getting married, but before ya'll marry you should find someone lesser important and offer him you: then when he believes that you and he are gonna be together tell him who you are to shame him and undermined him into a distressful existence to show your husband that he's the only one for you. It gives character to your relationship. "Soiled into Destiny" your vows shall wash yo clean into togetherness. It was said the Fiancée then became involved into a brawl, with details undisclosed.
She was quoted as saying " A love affair has clear titles, clear meanings, each chapter divided an organized body and the contents of it's beginning defines each logical part!" she refused to soil her fathers name before being honored by excepting her future husbands name. The act of soiling your fathers name is practiced but it's meaning is often undefined and seldom spoke of the practice has been homered for century's, yet in most circles it's unheard of or unspoken as some see's it as evil and it's purpose to divide. 'The frail strings unraveled due to the weight of the load" the support of love in a relationship does guarantee but it's support is key to the relationships existence.
Tegato Utaguchi and Gagaaqagitak Ariya spoke at "Donum Matrimonii" decribing there togetherness as a precious and divinely created gift from God, intended for companionship, mutual support, and purpose. "Nimeni sa nu-?i pângareasca numele tatalui înainte sa-?i schimbe numele în casatorie." spoke Cantar Castrato of Acompaniaza Muzica LLC. a Hoc Possum Facere Societas Musica.
"Stooge, Braodway and Hooker"
A Cleaks and Turf Entertainment Co.
Parts Unknown
Cold is the tittering of befitted feet
Cold is the meagre meanders of falling fractals
Cold is the twinge of bitter blues upon reeling retreats
Cold is the roiling retch of frostbitten flesh
Cold is the weary wench of an incomplete belch
Cold is the hoarded heath upon a ridiculed roof
Cold is the eerie ebb of a trepid twitch
Cold is the boyish bodice of meaningless man
Cold is the bane of bountiful bone held of chain to vein
Cold is the foiled figment of blustered breathes
Cold is the iridescent icicle of purified pain
Cold is the poignant punch of a sickened stench
Cold is the frivolous fawn of bludgeoned brain
Cold is the enticing ice of roiling rest
Cold is the belted buoyancy of a famished feign
Cold is the writhing wail of fraught forgiveness
Cold is the desolate depth of ailed eyes
Cold is the stringent stain of blotted blood
Cold is the rouged rememberance of pelting prise
Cold is the gaudy gulp of satin salvation
Cold is the harrowing hurry of soiling snow
Cold is the darkening winterous warmth of comforted coverage
Cold is the heeled horn of the sinner's wretched woe
And wretched be the cold of mutilated body, strapped to snow, falling in tow.
And cold be the sorrows of selfish self.
Flesh is compulsorily subjected to several bites
with the hope of later expensive lotions of comfort.
Hard work pays but luck issues the slips
toiling and moiling for the skin to keep soiling.
Every shot towards goal hits the post,
after years of attempts, the thigh muscles wither.
Sharp teeth on weak Jaws don’t attain chewing,
the discipline of a vegan carnivore is yet not enough.
The babe is painstakingly fed with milk in abundance
but has remained a day old after several months.
A million bricks have been put together and there’s still no house,
my determination is fought back by the agents of malicious doctrines.
Windstorms lay many eggs and pain is fed
The map of destiny shrinks to erase its borders.
Pressure pushes through me like a hydraulic chamber
to create the internal impact for my eyes only.
Almost getting there and success exhibits seizures,
nature collides with humanity in a bid to come to my rescue.
Fortune throws its coins at everyone,
none falls in my lane, prosperity too dizzy to appropriate.
Earthworm bonds with salt, fish now have tattoos,
achievement keeps relocating in an eternal hide and seek.
Exhausted options abandon the mind to a torture chamber
Life is a home of unequal rooms spaced by a garden of puzzles.
Failure is a farce, dying with its tag on, is the threat,
disappointment pops the gum and continuously farts at me.
Just when death, holding the suicide key, is the only awaiting friend,
Time stands up to tick with the sound of my name.
The aisle has been rolled up for the future to walk upon,
fulfillment embraces me now, defeat has permanently lost its appetite.
Remember: Alba are quiet, narrow, and corrugated and
Prefaces like precipices make modern living monolithic and claustrophobic…
Pudica are elongated, oak-shaped and glossy. Dark green color. Ever-blooming.
I’m standing behind you now with your permission, like the
Pedals of Swahili love poems,
Hanging bow, hanging bow,
Says Murchie, “after all, we are [all] made of star dust…”
So bow, bow, bow to the night fragrance that lures the sphinx moths
To pollinate them and hang bow hang as they dupe
Their pollinators into thinking there is nectar...
Let the rain wash away the soiling regret
Of the earth’s surface, “best be regarded as alive!” by Margulis...
Make blood fill the veins of our roots
Providing shelter to ghosts and demons
Just like Plumerian folklore and its
Blooming bloom blooming
And so "as a theory, Gaia is now winning!"
Blooming asunder
The good doctor
Strangelove who
Concludes his generation
“Has turned inward and discovered
Ben Sana Mecburum: “You are indispensable”
by Attila Ilhan
translation by Nurgul Yayman and Michael R. Burch
You are indispensable; how can you not know
that you’re like nails riveting my brain?
I see your eyes as ever-expanding dimensions.
You are indispensable; how can you not know
that I burn within, at the thought of you?
Trees prepare themselves for autumn;
can this city be our lost Istanbul?
Now clouds disintegrate in the darkness
as the street lights flicker
and the streets reek with rain.
You are indispensable, and yet you are absent ...
Love sometimes seems akin to terror:
a man tires suddenly at nightfall,
of living enslaved to the razor at his neck.
Sometimes he wrings his hands,
expunging other lives from his existence.
Sometimes whichever door he knocks
echoes back only heartache.
A screechy phonograph is playing in Fatih ...
a song about some Friday long ago.
I stop to listen from a vacant corner,
longing to bring you an untouched sky,
but time disintegrates in my hands.
Whatever I do, wherever I go,
you are indispensable, and yet you are absent ...
Are you the blue child of June?
Ah, no one knows you—no one knows!
Your deserted eyes are like distant freighters ...
perhaps you are boarding in Yesilköy?
Are you drenched there, shivering with the rain
that leaves you blind, beset, broken,
with wind-disheveled hair?
Whenever I think of life
seated at the wolves’ table,
shameless, yet without soiling our hands ...
Yes, whenever I think of life,
I begin with your name, defying the silence,
and your secret tides surge within me
making this voyage inevitable.
You are indispensable; how can you not know?
Attila Ilhan (1925-2005) was a Turkish poet, translator, novelist, screenwriter, editor, journalist, essayist and reviewer. Keywords/Tags: Turkey, Turkish, Translation, City, International, Leaving, Depression, Absent, Absence, Parting, Separation, Distance, Loss, Break Up, Soulmate, Soulmates, Love, Lovers, Companionship, Passion, Desire, Longing
Love and comfort cannot be partners
Complacency dissolves respect
Sneaky activity, entity disheartened
Three component splinter defect
They married within protective faith
Full of future decades' radiance
Charles' charms by ladies repaid
Ego combed by pretty audience
As fate will travel the cheater's tale
Soiling sheets too close to home
Mildred's loyal fresh heart impaled
By horror of rotten frolicking known
Vigourous mother of two preschool boys
Revelation staggered her function
Cut dangerously open by Charles' ploys
Cast remote was gusto's gumption
Damaged duo pursued longevity
Mildred continued with hesitance
She permitted fine faced snug family
Undeniably tainted by new tenuous
He declared undying love for Mildred
Doubled display of romantic regalia
But love as they'd felt, not rekindered
After influence of amorous strangers
Her energy failed in wake of treachery
Charles startled grateful state enthused him
Flourished material assistance eagerly
Upset trajectory, wife's affection refused him
She once was fluid flower pleasant
His thorn tore natural pairing apart
Mildred's wooden stem, failed reverence
Commitment couldn't penetrate her heart
Charles' grovelling replaced love resuming
Altitude diminished despite effort
Shared habitat couldn't restore their union
Registered sin slices status, trust bereft
10th July 2020
Written for Competition: Flower or Thorn
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
(alternately titled:
Pee pee song and dance routine)
Invariably analogous setting
kickstarts schlemiel to agitate
excretory mechanism linkedin,
viz body electric doth actuate
merely upon turning faucet triggers
unstoppable onset to micturate
drinking coffee or caffeinated tea
also functions as diuretic
mimics similar rush'n spate
oh boy... if I hesitate
to whip out trouser snake late...
he himself will humiliate
courtesy warm liquid will trickle
soiling pea green pants
legs knotted together damns fate
against pistol - unleash
expletives post maturely ejaculate
rank odor will permeate
redeeming salvation drek
written by this primate,
which rather lame poem may titillate,
though juvenile words
when thee evaluate
be mindful, cuz no control exists,
hence humorously accentuate
to tap kidney, draining
the lizard, empty bladder all equate
essentially to see man about a horse
private tête-à-tête,
thus no choice exists to alleviate
non voluntary impulse,
no rhyme nor reason unbeknownst to me
why tinkling sound beckons ureic freight
urgent whistle stop won't depreciate
emergency crisis compounded
with sudden necessity to defecate
courtesy lathered soap
or shaving cream, I fulminate
teary eyed burning man sensation
tripping feet blindly groping
oh $*¡† toilet seat down - cant wait
scramble in vain against impending date,
when disaster strikes
flash flood warning issued,
hence I cannot narrate
anymore hanging unto bough
risking life and limb
half a$$ poem I did create.
Hakaris HaTov
Recognizing the Good,
Be aware of what’s already there,
Mind that abundance is our spine,
Dire news presents a raincloud,
Blinding, warping focus of our blessing,
Making all seem dark, a piercing tyne,
News allures: Life or Death, it’s to force our vote,
Soiling Emunah, dirtying our air,
Bias ascends the dais, Emes inclined,
G-d & Good is in a still, small, quiet neighborhood,
Benefit is not in earthquakes, fire nor wind whirl,
Gratitude is a protecting rind,
Affirming Life, resisting the crowd,
Valuing our DNA, correcting foolish error,
A Jew sings “Modi Ani L’Fanecha…”,
Each morning, a first yearning,
Gratitude can’t exist ala arrogant line,
Nor with envy or a despairing howl,
But Sing! Light a Candle! Be Lunar!
A Gadol reflects Light, hears his fellows’ sighin’,
Moshe sensed his brothers’ low,
Gave them hope, restored Hashem’s honor,
He showed Gratitude all the time,
Moshe’s paradigm did endow,
By his example we endure,
Appreciate, let your loved ones’ shine,
Resilience into awareness allow,
When mishap reigns, refute & ignore,
Affirm Life, hold aloft Yes! An Emunah Sign!
Hakaris HaTov Glossary
Hakaris HaTov = Recognizing the Good
Emunah = Faith
Emes = Truth (Doing the appropriate thing – The Maharal)
G-d, Hashem = Respectful ways of writing “God”
Modi Ani L’Fanecha… = I thank before Your Face (You)…” (Said upon awakening)
Gadol = Great person
Moshe = Moses
Sweaty Palms – Chronic Woe Renders...
Po' Whet Tick Dampened Curse = A
Worse Fate Than Death!
...of Google I now know sweaty
palms sports dignified name
known as palmar hyperhidrosis.
Here all along (meaning major
of my roam'n LIX chronological
hash tagged linkedin orbitz), this
plague constitutes bona fide
medical condition. Cold drippy
comfort! Also (minimally) re:
assuring to realize, this generic
guy need not count himself alone
in sopping wet wilderness re:
this plague. Such problematic
health condition impacts, comprises,
and affects one to two percent of
the world’s population. One
Doctor Riesfeld purportedly makes
hand over fist handsome income.
Will power alone seems a dauntlessly
futile endeavor to rid oneself of
disruptive condition. Try as I might
to put lockdown on propensity
for sweat glands (synonymous
with the term eccrine) packed
within sub surfaces of hands, fore
head and feet. As linkedin to
sympathetic nervous system,
the body electric under stress
activates glands. Profuse moisture
dripping like a faulty faucet
severely affected everyday
activities of existence since a
young adult. Frustration to
complete a simple task such
as opening a doorknob, using
the laptop, and even writing
concomitantly associated with
droplets of water soiling green
sleeves to appear near saturated.
Without fail interpersonal ambitions
hi-jacked when wet as dishrag hands
found me disinclined to experience
social rejection. Though sprung
from overactive predisposition to
anxiety, these secretory organs
get exacerbated with dubiously
honorable privilege of being gifted
with panic attacks, offers little
comfort to sill lake consolation.
One by one they'll slowly arrive.
Like drunken moths fanning humid nights.
Crash-landing into the brainpan of mankind.
Howling like a stray dog on fire.
They suckle away the nectar from life.
Panning flecks of silver from hopeful eyes.
Only sated when they've bled the well dry.
Howling like a stray dog on fire.
Like vampires, they feed off periwinkle fear.
Reflectionless savages of funhouse mirrors...
Black stains bleeding into the fabric of dream...
soiling the remaining ponds of pristine.
Wishing to leave a string of rubies on the wrist...
or a devil's knot around a porcelain neck...
black powder to the temple of every regret...
the howl of a burning stray, you'll never forget.