Long Steams Poems
Long Steams Poems. Below are the most popular long Steams by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Steams poems by poem length and keyword.
With thoughts aligned within my mind
the poetry I hoped to find;
and dreams refined, angst left behind
by words forever redefined.
This symmetry was meant to be
please share with me your poetry.
The words within your heart begin
to make my head so softly spin;
with thoughts of sin I start to grin,
as goosebumps form along my skin.
This symmetry was meant to be
please share with me your poetry.
Your beauty beams and fills my dreams,
and takes them gently to extremes;
my mindset steams with wily schemes
as deep within, my passion teems.
This symmetry was meant to be
please share with me your poetry.
With bright array your words display,
and form within a bright bouquet;
these thoughts will stay with me today;
your poetry takes me away.
December 25, 2019
Poem of the Day - December 26, 2019
mountains tumble
across the horizon
twisting the last splinters
of warmth
through heavy hanging
gray soup
listless lifeless
endless sigh
dogs roll over
mown grass
clinking ice
gentle laughter
fluttering chimes
cool breeze
sweet pungent earth
enlivens lungs
ocean cracks
spills sheets
steams stainless barbeque
sizzles fire pit
douses tiki torches
lettuce, tomatoes, chips
condiments
march back inside
under the eaves
gulping rare air
until it freezes
behind the window
white pellets pelt
big red umbrella
guarding the feast
burgers melting cheese
buns toasting
in formation
lining the grate
storm sweeps over
collective gasp
tables towel off
wet dogs play
music marries
dinner mirth
dancing flames
lick black velvet
Friday swells
into sleep-in Saturday
while weaver weaves
another day
Sautéed psalms of silver strong
Believing in youth as maturity soothes
It is as it should be in my heart
No longer obsessed with less
Teal tears baptize and bless
Lust all that fuss dismissed
Creating a fuchsia foundation
For a clean heart of love so artistic
Kisses create passionate pulsing poetry
Amethyst heart fails to be imperfect
Yet victorious gloriously worth it
All the waiting praying forsaking
Of the wrong one’s led to
Love’s lavender ladder
Where superior intimacy awaits
Baking basking in indigo intimacy
Singing heart hymns
Turquoise touches melting them
From one note into one song
That dotes strokes sings steams
Hotter than July’s jade dreams
Purple passion new yet old fashion
Perfectly imperfect and ravishing
There's a pack of jokers in your pack ...
Smiling, ducking, and dodging ...
Lying ...
Waiting on the perfect moment to mislead your psyche and attack.
So, stay ... ONE UP!
Especially now ...
For your cup is full... of richness and darkness ... sitting steady
On its saucer ...
and if you're not paying attention ...
hidden forces will come in and spill your most valued portions ...
So, watch and sip wisely ...
no matter the sweetness ...
For
your blow on the hotness
will allow you to see through the steams
vapored double-cross of him and her ... Can you see?
I know you got this!!!
"ONE UP"
So please believe when I tell you ...
Your surrounded by the devil's minions ...
Full of unforeseen judgements and opinions ...
Smiling in your face ...
while holding on to your heavenly rise
And
counting down on your multitude of possible ($) millions ...
So please take heed ...
It's not about your face and name ...
For
I'm giving you the key to light ...
continue the journey ... I'm not the enemy ...
I'm just clearing your path with ...
Spirit, knowledge, justice, and stability ...
You got the message, and this is not a bluff ...
Everything is not what it seems ...
So, go deep ...
Because there are some forces around you ...
that you can't feel nor see. I know you felt thee ...
"ONEUP"
THE END ...
Dreaming in the clouds
a stag of elegance
gracing with royal beauty
An emblem draws peace
inside the heart
You're eyes
dazzling smiles
travels inside
to a whole new world
Leading me into
the promised land
With a sprinkling
of sweet smelling
rose petals
Sending one piece
the foundations stone
to begin building
our palace on feelings
Dream embracing beauty
soft velvet
satin touching emotions
caressing within
The crowning glory
enchanting magic sings
Heaven's purest angel
the one of love
Each heartbeat
steams this ship
sailing with you
closer into
the sun setting
Paradise kisses you
in a spin
of daisies
One chain darling
draped around
you're neck
I believe
in you love
As the sun
sets beautiful
inside honey
golden happy
~ ~ ~ ~
I wrote this for someones special birthday
only I sent another one instead with a forever promise in love
The pedestrian kettle steams on to the Capitol pyre
With a weight watcher tonic; more lean legislators to sire
The Grand Old Party a taste of the aromatic brew doth require
Medicinal tonic blended to alleviate bloating gout of every Democratic squire
Preferring their watered-down, generic brand, constipated digestive tracts go haywire
The savy financiers sit on the sidelines in their cozy markets ignoring the taste test flier
The partisan grit clogs the filter producing a quagmire
The vitriolic ingredients boil over causing a rancid fire
The billowing smoke rises and streams to the patrician choir
The generic master brewer in his white house stews in the demagogic mire
Commercial winds sweep in fanning the flames causing the heat to reach dome's spire
The regurgitated grounds spewed forth to every intoxicated shire
Democratic gainsayers scare the elderly that the side effects are so dire
The rest of the squeamish plebians in their depleted hovels continue to sip their Common Roast with ire
At last the shivering stops
as the sleeping bag, air mattress
and tent warm from body heat.
Later I stumble from the dark tent
into a full moon, coldly glowing
over a forest of silhouette trees and
a deafening silence broken only
by the call of a distant Barred Owl.
The silver stream of piss steams as
it splatters on the ground; a quick shake,
then bag to a warm bag to sleep till dawn
which brings blue sky and a south wind
to fan a reluctant campfire and heat
a soon to boil kettle of coffee water.
A pair of loons surface, close enough
to see the bars of their necklaces, before
they disappear under the dark water.
As the sun crests the eastern hill, I move to
the shore to greet it, basking in its warmth
slowly spinning like a Crookes’ sun mill.
Rain Havoc
Like angry man, thoughtlessly, it came from the twilight sky
It hands were big, icicle, falling on the roof like hammer
Though it was twilight, but there ought to be a sign posted in the sky
Before falling; fifty minutes or an hour the rain choked
River over filled, raised above the road – street blocked
Mottos and motorcycles and bicycles and legs had to hover
Houses laid on the floor; junk droppers what have you evoked
If not Aregbesola whose work reduced Osun's cry
Note: On September 2016, it was the second day after the festival. There was a horrendous rain that fell in Osogbo Osun State Nigeria. It fell between fifty minutes or an hour, the rain caused a lot of havoc; streams raised above many the streets bridges and walk-able things had to wait till it streamed off: so that they could pass. Many houses were damaged, due to the heavy wind, especially those near the steams.
Meanwhile, when Aregbesola, the governor was swearing-in for in 29th November, 2009, his first work was changing of Osun State to State of Osun, then expansion of rivers, road construction, renovation and construction of schools, etc., people abused him, though Aregbesola was a beloved governor then.
His first tenure ended and was voted for for this second tenure; the love reduced so much and majority hate and abuse him. Because among all he has done, his educational programme and civil servant salaries, displeased majority. Everyone is with flaw. People abuse him, saying will they eat road, expansion of rivers, etc., is it not true? However, when the rain fell, they know the essence of his work. Aregbesola is among the best governor that did so much work in Osun. Please read my poem, The Saviour.
Sweet,
bitter,
or in between.
Maybe a little of both.
Jeckle and hyde,
or more like
Jacklyn and Hilda,
split personalities,
I love em all,
big or small
red hair and all.
Women,
girls,
I love em all,
Mostly in between.
See,
I'm at twenty six,
fixed,
on older women
above age twenty three.
To me,
these are the ripening years,
when girls become women.
When what they want become
natural as spring water.
I have
tasted the juices
of many vintages.
Like a ripened wine.
Like a grape,
turned from sour to sweet.
like a mango mixed delicately
with a peach.
Older, mature woman
are what I fancy.
I compare to an exquisite
Cabernet,
Or
like the Martini's I drink dry.
Why do I like older women?
Why?
I have tried,
experimented with youth,
only to find an
abundance of
drama queen
feelings.
Wild emotions that flare
with each conversation,
with each vacation
I take to the pub,
or to the club.
Each accusation
is followed by my
truth.
Still,
she'll explode.
I then realize it is her
youth.
I love em all though,
all shapes, sizes
and creeds.
To satisfy my hunger,
to satisfy my needs.
Most times
I like my coffee black
sugar sweet
no cream.
I mix my
vanilla cappuccino,
her milk frothed
until she steams.
I think back,
remember,
this woman age
thirty nine.
She must have had the
ingredient to the fountain of youth.
In truth,
a pure "dime".
A dime piece,
slang,
for a magnificent woman,
a stunning woman.
She would take me to
unexpected feelings, places
buried deep inside my mind.
she was kind!
This beautiful woman,
age thirty nine....
Jared Pickett
4/28/07
Asavvy1
While whispers shush on sheltered shores, as soon the cockcrow quakes,
the seas descry a skittish sky, sense summer zephyrs wake –
roused passions neath the sunrise pulse, the whitecaps throb and ache.
Along the crests crawl shallow shades the soaring sun effaces
and rains in streams enhance the dreams that fantasy embraces
while ocean sprays of yesterdays reveal forsaken faces.
The midday sun has slowed its run, a shrinking puddle steams,
between the knells of shattered shells drift soaring seagulls’ screams –
the beauty wends but never ends, or so it surely seems.
At dusk a ruddy disk descends, the skyline's furnace burns
and neath the swells where Neptune dwells, an undercurrent churns –
a seahorse hides and seaweed bides until the tempest turns.
While twilight hosts the winds with ghosts of barbed electric spangles,
a mermaid braves the crashing waves adorned with starfish bangles –
her spirit yearns in twists and turns entwined in rockweed tangles.
As seven stranded seamen scan the dimple-dappled moon,
a brace of surly Sirens serenade a lonely loon –
the breakers pound and sometimes sound a melancholy tune.
Soon gales ignite the briny night and rip the skies askew
with zigzag teeth flashed deep beneath a blazing bolt tattoo –
storms, spent, subside in ebbing tides, then all begins anew.