Long Solicits Poems
Long Solicits Poems. Below are the most popular long Solicits by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Solicits poems by poem length and keyword.
I cherished time walking through Cherry Blossoms,
And when it is to turn pink, it’s mind-blowing.
It’s like a pink rug situated on both sides in Kyoto,
Experiencing the Promised Land while having Cotto.
I love observing the farmland plowing,
The fields appreciate him by bowing.
I am dismayed at the strangers who see me trespass,
Imagine them complaining so fast to the gran who owes the meadow.
Envisioning her catching me while I'm passing through her swath,
She solicits me if I'm trying to display this as my path.
Visualizing my agitation after I get busted,
Then the old wrinkled gran will make me entrusted.
For sure assign me to babysit the offspring,
I’ve to make him feel like a king,
Oh God! I cannot envisage it!
Man of melancholy - memories ashen and shadow gray,
heart harrowed, solicits solace from her psychic energy.
An offering, his woebegone weeping wildflower bouquet,
teardrops titian, sorrow scintillant, reflects rueful reverie.
Heart harrowed solicits solace from her psychic energy,
free falling through forlorn filigree, he mourns at her gravestone.
Teardrops, titian sorrow scintillant reflects rueful reverie
of his Earth angel, soul-lifted too soon, spiritually sown.
Free falling, through forlorn filigree he mourns. At her gravestone
fragrance haunting, flowers flaring heartsick hallucinations
of his Earth angel soul-lifted too soon; spiritually sown
blue scented efflorescence of suffering lamentations!
Fragrance... haunting flowers flaring heartsick hallucinations
of inamorata, flame extinguished expectant with their child.
Blue scented efflorescence of suffering lamentations
bedevil his mind. Happiness, hope exiled, ego beguiled.
Of inamorata flame extinguished expectant with their child,
an offering; his woebegone weeping. Wildflower bouquet
bedevils his mind, happiness, hope. Exiled ego beguiled,
man of melancholy memories - ashen and shadow gray.
Susan Ashley
September 16, 2017
~Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: Favorite Pantoum Premiere
Sponsor: Laura Loo
~ First Place ~
Contest: Poems That Paint A Picture 2
Sponsor: Silent One
* based on a pencil drawing by Mike Theuer provided by Silent One on contest page *
It's the unfair society:
from lenient judges
to corrupt attorneys
and with some bad cops
who claim that their motto is:
" To serve and protect "
Oh, no don't tell me that I am crazy: I don't trust the Law!
It's an insult to society or to the ones who wrote it!
Oh, don't tell me that murderous thoughts
don't double-cross me to want to toss those offenders
into the slammer where they really belong!
I should be on that bench and give sentences
without showing sympathy or forgiveness!
One guy who had a bag of weed
was released the next day...
because it was his first offense!
It's foolishness...there were
two minors in that car:
wasn't it the fault of a lenient judge?
Hookers, so-called Ladies of the Night
are more protected than the ordinary citizens,
some wacko sees them as worthless beings
and kills them dumping them in marshes...
I am saddened by such murders,
but they don't lead a clean life!
Oh, don't tell that God doesn't have murderous thoughts like me!
But when some of one of them tap on your window, as you wait
for the red light to turn green, solicits sex for money...wouldn't
anybody have a murderous thought and give them a nasty look?
Oh, don't tell me that sex doesn't sell everywhere!
It's so disgusting to see ads with semi-nude models
advertizing for the big companies: it's the buck, not the morality!
And worse than that some guys watch **** as they drive!
O society so filthy and shameless, you have become so immoral,
putting away the Commandments that Moses God carved with fire!
It's wrong to hate a brother or sister,
and seek revenge with either curses or bad deeds...
slandering is not humane and compassionate;
if he or she did something wrong...show love,
don't have murderous thoughts! The hatred
makes the gun go off quickly and the knife cut very deep!
So goes for your neighbors, love them
as you would love your own and by spreading kindness:
darkness will be replaced by light,
and hate, ignorance and avarice by love!
Written by Andrew Crisci
for Susan Burch's contest,
" Getting Away With Murder/Murderous Thoughts "
O My Jazmin-
I know, your pair of lips speaks of me
Your electrifying touch of hands solicits me
Your dramatic love letters invite me ardently
True to say, I engrave you in my silver canvas of desire
No, there I aspire me not to your pubescent breast,
to your appetizer lips, salacious buttocks,
to your stirring navel and waist
Really, I never seek me in your scandal mongering
I smell you in the blooming words of the Hamilton's Mythology
Where your smiling writes the timeless tales of gods and heroes
I smell you in the weaving hives of the Songs of Offering by Tagore
Where your walking sketches the panoramas of idolizing prayers
Dear Jazmin, you are my sea beach of the Patenga
I seek me in your footprints on the scattered pebbles,
You are my rising sun of flowery days
I seek me in the flying white clouds of the blue sky on you
You are my flowing Karnafully river, Halda valley
I seek me in the dashing busy port of your city,
You are bed partner of my resolute writings
I seek me in your pen and poetic anthology,
You are my youthful alehouse
In your grape wine I seek me,
You are enviable scent of my virginal dark night
I seek me in your seduced heart where moonlight hides
Here are masjids, there are temples
Here are holy shrines, there are eternal palace- graves
On the Cheragi hill through the flowers shops
I seek me everywhere at your starry night by the halo
O dear Jazmin, you are jazz music of my empty night
Come, once again come to me lit up the Lalon songs light
18.09.2020 Chattogram
At birth I saw the opening
And a speck of light
From the world that welcomed me –
The first visible light
To excite my pupils, I guess.
That light comes clearer now
As I pass by the road
Full of dried hit-and-run frogs,
With various scenes of life along.
The dots are exposed:
I see one from the night sky
Like a white paint drop
On a black board,
From a grain of sand by the sea,
From a tiny seed
That waits for the time to sprout,
From the eye of a beast
That secretly solicits love,
And from many others.
The dots lie on such an infinitely wide sheet
That I try to connect them
And cannot see the whole picture.
I think God watches me on the sheet
Under a microscope.
I'm on a learning curve and learned today
a straight line means exponential growth, and
the steeper the line, the faster the death toll.
You saw the number of death this morning?
The tiresome business is all over again.
The stock of coffins dwindling
dazed with grief, I leaf the morning paper, swallowed up
by virus's treachery, racing like a wildfire.
Will it die a natural death?
Its insatiable appetite for death solicits
more concessions from humans who no longer
have individual destinies, only collective destinies.
We either find a rift in its wall of fire
or succumb to our bereavement and anxiety.
I'm on holiday without pay
auto-isolating long before the decree, calculating the
mathematics of defeat, asking
how will it be in three or six months?
and how close to virus's guillotine?
Through aeons of cold thoughts
frost in sheer chasm
no sun moon or star
earth empty bizarre
hell's grim phantasm
dust into dust blown
where ghosts jug on the sidewalks
each one six feet apart, alone
in retreat like ghouls of
lonely cemeteries
wraiths of uneasy covenant
too afraid to surmise the
brave salutation of a
passerby.