Long Sojourns Poems
Long Sojourns Poems. Below are the most popular long Sojourns by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sojourns poems by poem length and keyword.
Thong Thing Is Wrong
Thong thing is wrong
Cellulite women rolled on folds of flesh
Over waves and seas that crest
What are those monstrosities
Whales washed up on beaches
Thin strings not quite bikinis hide nothing
Obese creatures covered by mounds of pounds
Blot out the sun uncomfortably
As the fat eat Twinkies, dream of being Twiggy
Oh Doris please don't put on weight
Put on your tent. Save us from nightmares in the day
Tides move when you step in the water
Displace the natural order
Fish run from you. Forget how to swim
Naked can be scary by the sea
What is that giant thing standing in the sand
Dressed in almost nothing, held together by a string
What waddles down the shore
Thinking a black cloth makes one thin
Oh this fashion does not make for happy
Dreams and illusions bury the thighs in lies
Under the sun filling up horizons sky
Surprise! Eyes bleed at this frightening sight
Makes old and young cry. No place to hide
Ocean sojourns once were fun
Watching bikini clad women run
Nudity is meant for others more young
Eye candy, shapely, sexy and thin to begin with
Weight escaping on all sides exposed
Pretending to be pretty and thin is quite the trick
Girls come in all shapes and sizes
Some have been known to raise the tides
In disguise, hiding behind a smile exposes it
The thong thing is wrong
Please make it stop. Make it quit
As long as stars have dotted nighttime skies
Has man sought to unlock their mystery.
We gaze upon their spark with marvelled eyes
As others have throughout all history.
No other sights their beauty can discount
In waves throughout the cosmic sea arrayed.
They're splashed across the sky in rippled founts
That bathe the heavens in their pale cascade.
Each star a diamond sentinel of light
That with us sojourns on their astral track.
Their winking eyes watch over through the night.
I look to them as they look, staring back.
Though looking up I see them bright and clear,
They won't see me for several hundred years.
9.17.18
Contest: Beautiful Mystery
If you knew that you’d be leaving soon
And had but one last poem to write;
What might you pen as you begin
To say your final, farewell good night?
Would it be addressed to those who’ve blessed
Your world with all good things?
To someone close you love the most
Or perhaps, a song of spring?
Of changing winds that swirl and spin
From cradle to the grave;
If you had but one last poem to pen
What would you want to say?
Would thankfulness surround you
For every breath you’ve ever breathed?
Or will you write before losing sight
Of past regrets and shattered dreams?
Will your pages be filled with all the thrills
Of memories made with laughter?
Or will sadness remain despite all the gains
Of riches you’ve chased after?
And I wonder will the darkness fill
Our minds with somber sojourns;
Or will instead we find we’re led
To God’s gigantic, love-filled ocean?
If we have but one last poem to write
Before leaving Earth’s atmosphere;
What will we say that just might stay
In the hearts of those still here?
Twilight haze sears like veld fire in my veins that keep you alive,
Each look from you unleashes a hurricane inside my heart,
I Savor your voice,it hauls me in to its rip-roaring wickedness--
I stay here
Your Oshun styled gate carries you past the candlelight,
A fairy in the street in The Mother City,
Fingers like infernos,they touch nothing,still I am shaken-
Heart clings to memories.
I glide after the glimmer of your smile into twilight,
Anxiety in my chest,I shiver with desire for you,
Dreams shatter around me,yet I remain charmed,restless-
I can't free myself.
Victoria,blazing like sunrise on raging summertime,
Days cannot time the flame that swells at you leaving,
Each fleeting gaze keeps my heart fiery,scorched with passion-
I refuse to yield,
Endless midnights,-your bouquet lingers,
I keep the room dim,the night repeats your whisper,
My soul studies absence,a quiet defiance-
I remain here.
Chess calms my e;I uncork a hellish move in hellish and checkmate my anguish,
Sojourns in Milky Town and Pirara soothes my heartache
Baldwin and jazz saves me,Kippie's horn,Spokes's flute-
Humane Ubuntu is me.
Kathy rides the bus
an hour each day
to reach the club
saving her pennies;
last week
the phone company
shut her off
less than a month overdue
but they keep
single mothers
on edge.
Tall and lean
and yes still lovely
dark from her
Florida sojourns
she always
has a smile
and a dance
she dances close
rubbing her pert breasts
up your chest
her pencil eraser nipples
with their silver rings
almost within
tongue range
then down
slithering, pressing
her body - naked
against your body - clothed
pulling at your shirtwaist
with her teeth
almost mouthing
your crotch.
Her story
high school champion
gymnastics
broken back - recovered
provincial diving champ
but we all have stories
two past husbands
one a cop
“never marry a cop
always angry
sometimes rough
and after
no support."
Thirteen years
working one club
or another
and never think
it isn’t work.
I’d love to answer
her smile
to give her
my shoulder
to lean on,
or at least
a ride home.
But I have
my own story,
kids and a dog
at home,
waiting to be fed.
After the dance
she takes her money
having tickled my fantasies
for another week
and wanders
through the bar
looking
for another customer.
Till seven
then on the bus
and home
to her lucky daughter.
WordScape Triptych #1
Coming from the Underworld as a ghost, just sauntering out of the depths like you did;
With all the rest of us just watching and wondering what you were going to say;
Tell us young Beatrice what shavings you encountered in your intrepid sojourns;
Regale us with splendid tales, and grand dishes with squid meat and fried barnacles;
Intrigue us with your newly-learned dances taught by dead men beneath the grasses.
Manipulate us with your pouting grimaces when sad phrases turn inward the head screws;
Sweet Beatrice, there is no relief or recourse from these exacting heart exercises;
These time-stopping surrenders to the moist touches of absolute skin arousals.
Please lovely Dulcinea, guide us to the far-away stones piled atop the ancient green expanses;
Where screaming armies once pondered mortality amidst the spreading proliferating weeds;
Soothe us with your tender eye gazes which shoot through the airy spaces with calm affinities;
Made immaculate with silent prayers and lifted legs around the shoulders of the nobilities.
Create us for your strange mansions and your strange universes made of chalk, and fingering fears;
These soothing squanderings of doubting time, and the strange splashings of forgetful mercies,
Made manifest with the urgings of the stones, and the apex gods with the sharp plastic crowns;
Please Dulcinea, sing to us with your tenor gyrations made of pickled stardust and squid meat.
And proffer for us, sweet sweet Laura, your lilting songs celebrating the recurring exhalations;
From the lips of bearded nomads coming like leopards across the squared-faced, death vistas;
Expose to us your battle-scarred appendages where bleeding arrows found the stringed lattices;
Reveal to us your arched spinal bridges which flatten and turn with the seeking wind shears;
Gather us, lovely Laura, to your immense home hidden in the spiral ferns for tea and secret games;
Teach us how to be present and aware of the artifices, as rendered woodenly by the blind gropers;
Yes, sweet sweet Laura, we are at your service, but finally, kill us, destroy and annihilate us,
With your slithering clandestine movements behind dripping tombstones in the snoring graveyards.
I did not feel the spring slip by,
But now in summer, Neath deep blue sky,
to their persistent calls, would I relent.
My belongings, did I gather,
left the meadows against my rather.
Thus began my answer to their call.
Long the path did I wander,
All the while did I ponder.
Fearful of the things that might befall.
As my days approached the Autumn.
my resistance was now on bottom.
To the Sirens' song, I did adhere.
Now the winter of my life,
the song is sung, it's meaning rife.
Why that spring, the Sirens' called to me.
Looking back across the ages,
Over my life, and all it's stages
The Sirens' sung my sojourns' destiny.
I long to fold my eyes and softly creep
beside the brook of fancy, as it flows
to tumble off my trundle bed and sleep
and dip the stardust with my drowsy toes
within the world of reverie and dreams
I cast my cares, like nets, upon the sea
so woven as the moon, within its beams
imagination's breadth, now comes to be
with all the dreamy pathways that I stroll
the routes are always varied, always new
and still, each destination brings its toll
as all my sojourns find their way ... to you
but I would ne'er deny my heart that ache ...
if only you'd come with me ... when I wake.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Most Comments Received Poem 2018" Poetry Contest, July Morning, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Sleepwalking" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Sponsor & Judge.
~ 5th Place ~ in the "Contest Number 470 Any Form Or None" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor & Judge.
Being is becoming
Coming is going
Going is being
Start is dawning
Dawning is living
Living is dying
End is dusking
Dusking is dying
Dying is living
Style is smiling
Smiling is crying
Crying is styling
Listen to the wind
Winding down here
Here silence listens
Do with feeling
Feeling is knowing
Knowing is doing
Listen to stillness
Stillness creates all
All comes from a void
Act with knowing
Knowing feeds feeling
Feeling frees thinking
Coming is going
Going is coming
Actors on a stage
A voice calls
Calling you by choice
Choice stamps a poise
An ancient sway
Hints a message
Listen to your soul
Madness is gladness
Rapture in sadness
Gladness feels sad
Contrary ways link
Wholeness and parts
Feel upsets think
Be unafraid now
You will see light
At tunnel's end
Doubt all that's true
It's up to you
Go beyond fear
Observe and see
See beyond sight
Who sees who?
To live just die
To die just live
Live without ego
Seize paradox
Out-of-the-box
Soul hurls de-tox
Greet the unknown
Accept not knowing
Then you will feel faith
Faith is wonder
Wonder feeds wander
Wanderer is not lost
Hope sojourns
Wander near or far
Yet you end right here
Love anchors all
Uni-verse as one song
Mind-matter, heart and soul
Remember this
There is sure peace
In knowing bliss
To live well
Learn to die
Rise then a phoenix!
Leon Enriquez
12 Mar 2014
Singapore
CHOOSE ME
If You choose my porous bones
to shatter into a
hundred pieces, dissolve
each atom of my cartilage
I will surrender, hands aloft
So that U my Lord and Mistress can
forgive a human race
Let us start afresh
scarlet daisies blooming on
sacrificing sojourns
ferns flapping acknowledgment
Choose me !
to melt into Your Solar Flares
my skin serving those starving eyes
on desert plains, those vacant women
I will surrender to Your flint
sucked into my raw nerves
I await Your choice
to crack my Heart
to do my mission
JUST CHOOSE ME !