Long Splaying Poems
Long Splaying Poems. Below are the most popular long Splaying by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Splaying poems by poem length and keyword.
Which American does not know great Tony Stark?
An industrialist tycoon like strapping shark;
Born with silver spoon in his mouth; noble bequest!
Lived luxurious life one considered blessed...!
Afghan enters his life; like virus in robot;
Terrorists kidnap him; force him to weapon-plot;
He builds his sly armor; makes his vanish easy;
Plays ploys; Shifts into iron man; tough, yet, frenzy...!
Cocktails and women beauties; Romantic, yet firm;
Juvenile play-boy; yet, strict to mercantile term;
Not lonely though alone; full of fun and frolic;
Midst accomplishment of tasks, he has his rollick...!
Pushed to misuse his invention of iron-man,
Virtuously he dismantles his harm-filled plan;
Splaying bundle of freedom virtues and vices,
Tony Stark is an epitome of guises...!
01 July 2022
Captain America's Friends or Foes Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Colors dance on the canvass of my life
In an intricate interplay of hues
Intensifying and weakening at different stages
Fluid colors in constant motion
As I age, different colors take precedence
While others slowly recede
Still present, yet less visible
Some colors are all time favorites
Ever strong, ever making their presence seen
The color of Beauty forever captivates me
I immerse myself in this hue
Letting its brilliance ravish my thoughts
Beautifying my life in every way
Truth is another color that graces this canvas
For without it, I cannot live
I need to see broad strokes of this hue
For it revives my heart
The brilliance of the color of Compassion
Pulsating with emotions of oneness...
With the world, with all that inhabits it
It ever moves me to reach, to feel, to belong
Hope, the color of dreams
For my dreams are saturated
In this vivid color
That makes the canvass spring to life
Hope, for a masterpiece to be
Passion, the most prominent color
Seen splashed everywhere on my canvass
The color deepening, ever deepening
Dark and rich, drawing the observing eye
To the wet colors that never dry
Always freshly painted
Bold, brash, audacious, alluring
Pronounced color overpowering every other shade
Passion, shows off her true self
Confident that she is the artist's most loved color
And then there is the color of Love
Capricious
Flitting
Transient
Erratic
Inconstant
Gracing the canvass now and then
Lightly splaying itself across the painting
Bright splashes of rich Gold
I try to focus my eyes on this hue
Wanting it to be evident
In every single image
In every single stroke
A tinge of gold
And yet I know
I know
The color of gold
Is “the hardest hue to hold”
I know this to be true
For my eyes brimming with tears have seen
The “dawn...[of love go]...down to day.”
On this canvass of my life
This truth is clearly displayed....
“Nothing gold can stay.”
Eileen Manassian Ghali
A variation on the poem by Robert Frost, Nothing Gold can Stay
Crawling upon desecrated ashes,
whispers haunt ~
“You will never make it.”
Vermilion skies rumble over the brutal horizon,
splitting open as a deafening rain pours forth,
drenching an already collapsing body.
Splaying nails rip into hollow earth.
Eerie silhouettes dance in the lightning flashes.
It’s getting harder to see now —
fear surging, lungs straining,
losing control.
Darkness engulfs, swallowing the sun.
Panic sets in; urgency is now a must,
for night brings what cannot be spoken.
Cortisol spikes, muscles spasm.
Faster, he must crawl ~
death is imminent if he cannot find the door.
Feeling blindly through infectious petrichor,
his palms meet nothing but cold decay.
Macabre laughter circles around him.
Praying, he reaches out one more time —
unsuccessfully.
Closing his eyes, red-hot pain
flows over his flesh,
devoured by the very demons
he could not escape.
Why I Will Always Be Alone
emptiness craving amorosity loathing darkness vintage dreams ravenous/heart gong a silent beat, shivering the desire bed empty since you left. Sex boiling with potent fire, aflame with thought another intracranial aneurysm; ganglion carbuncle inflamed headache tonight lying down before taking a pill. Open then heavily anchored, closed roped in thick tresses bountiful poppy opium smoke. Once was alive then metamorphosised a unisex transmutation: sod-asexual changeling.Come here lick me uplift me load me with your woes want to drink from your mouth a sup sip so succulent splaying my for you to suck into from, rape me with your love take it all leave now me with nothing at all, a lonesome child.***** Majora two cutaneous folds that extend downward from the mons pubis-+ Pussy — kiss me dead.
Across farthest hills, silent moonlight spills
To wash away the dark, to overflow
With golden rays splaying the land it fills
And paints every plant in darkened meadow
With clouds below a crumbled curtain hung
To filter soft moonlight that fall and flow
Through every limb this gentle string is strung
This flickering vine lays still, crawling slow
A rising orb, this gentle yellow moon
Will fill each searching eye, where romance lives
And contains a wish, where love's dreams commune
To caress the yearning soul, that moonlight gives
Beneath this gold moon where heartbeats find breath
They'll hear a melody from moon's celeste
It’s the little things,
that remind me of my aunt,
and how in some unusual way,
she may still be alive,
if only in the memory,
a passing morning train,
tea bags splaying suddenly,
from unopened cupboards,
I’d actually forgotten somehow,
her favourite cup and saucer,
with cracks down the side,
pictures strewn in drawers,
redolent of precious moments,
framed photos in hallways,
that move without a reason,
car keys with fobs,
that gather sand dune blobs,
onion dome shaped artefacts,
for a chosen tartan table top,
that cast away diary,
which kept the gleam,
in those expressive eyes of hers