Long Stews Poems
Long Stews Poems. Below are the most popular long Stews by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stews poems by poem length and keyword.
Forgot to wait for it
Fcking got me again
Let my guard way too far down
Didn't even see this one begin
These chemicals got us on lock
With the hardest chains to break thru
It's like I'm walkin in this haze with you
Waiting for the chaos to ensue
All it takes is a tiny little attitude
And the war stews
Explosions all around me...
I'm so confused
Didn't even know pain is my only truth
What am i supposed to do?
Apparently I have no clue...
It's a circle I can't seem to get around
Slamming my head into the corners
Of this reality
Wtf do yall want from me??
Everytime I think I'm figuring out what this life is all about
Sht gets all flipped upside down
Kuz I guess my face supposed to keep a frown
Life is pain?
Or was it love?
Both kinda work
If I don't catch the bluff..
When is enough enough?
Why is getting through this so damn rough?
When will my heart be tough enough
To know not to trust??
Like.....f*cckk
At least give me some time
To readjust
Like..I blink once..blink twice
Bam!!
Ima b*tch again
I was still on the page
Where we lovers AND best friends
Guess my pace a little too slow
...idk
Free my soulllll!!!
If I could be a cat, I wouldn't chase a mouse,
but if you put me out,
perhaps I'd choose to go and search about
for flowers I could snip with small white teeth
to carry home to you inside my mouth.
My mission then complete,
adoringly I'd greet you with a mew
and blooms strewn at your feet.
I think I might like that.
If I could be a cat, I wouldn't want to eat
kitty stews in cans or livered meat.
I think instead I'd use my feline eyes to plead-
entreating you to feed me from your plate,
and then when you had your fill,
perhaps you'd leave me ice cream
melted and unfinished from your bowl.
I wouldn't hesitate
to lick your fingers clean appreciatively.
Yes, I think I might like that.
If I could be a cat, I wouldn't want to sleep
alone and curled around some ball of yarn.
I'd leap onto your bed instead (I wouldn't make a peep)
and nestle in the cradle of your arm.
And if you reached to stroke my fur,
I'd place my paws upon your chest charmingly
and warmly start to purr.
If I could be a cat, I think I might like that.
(an oldie that I wanted to show again, and I add this little
Valentine Haiku on the bottom just for you, PD):
the trinity of
Linda, Irma, and PD. . . .
get BIG hugs from ME
The skillet hung near the old wood-burning kitchen stove.
Aside from her family, Mom considered it a special trove.
With that blackened old pan she prepared delicious repasts,
That in my judicious opinion will ne'er be surpassed!
Ah, just to recall the tasty grub stewed up in that old skillet!
How it tingled my taste buds just sliding down my gullet!
The chicken, steaks and chops in that old pan she did fry,
Evoked oohs and aahs and many a contented sigh!
She liberally dolloped lard in the pan 'til she had it just right,
Then concocted stews, soups and fried taters for our delight!
Mom was never concerned about such things as saturated fat,
Or life-threatening cholesterol and such things as that!
I suppose medicos today would have a conniption fit,
If they knew of the dietary sins my Mom did commit.
She must've done something right - her spouse lived past ninety-four.
Her kids outlived the odds, each reaching four score years or more!
Self-anointed wizards deem cast iron skillets detrimental to our health,
But I think they're just peddling new fads to add to their wealth!
My dear spouse uses her old iron skillet most every day.
I feel fit as a banjo regardless of what so-called experts may say!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
She's thwarted his advances for bluer skies
cat chasing her tail
to poking at nothing there
why is this such a fail
retrieving her blank stare
he tries again, his paws
grasping thin air
his teeth into her jaw
for answers to her impair
he scowls, then paces to scare
purring none the less
as his eyes scream and glare
at her mandates digress
come on what's up with you
he would say if he were a man
did you forget the screws
that drill holes into your playpen
hot under the collar he yells
get yourself ready, he stews
under hell bells
I'm taking you without further ado
she looks back at him and laughs
as a she sees a molly walk by
laying the wood into her chaff
sorry females are my bluer skies
connie pachecho
1/5/17
For Timothy Lee, the Best of Me
Since our first night, I have dreaded the last,
thus my passion tightly fashioned clasp.
You are my one safe harbor, my refuge,
my cure for stress overload and pressed blues.
No matter any day’s shatter and stews,
at night I am consoled right beside you
where your skin soothes me secure again
and our wrapped limbs re-thread joy’s ends.
Some tomorrow’s sorrowful horizon
scripts our final intermixed, heart snuggle.
I cannot help but hope that it is me
who first dies and avoids solitude's struggles.
Our bed of blessed satisfaction defined,
would uncover woe for the rest of time.
Come the end of nights molding with you,
comes the end of our love's active value.
(Part one of Young Lovers Once Alone)
My heart’s melody intertwined with your own
Our heart’s were beating as one
My soul was interlocked with your own…I was all alone
We’re lovers alone possibly…
Tell me, my precious – do you love me?
V.1: I cling on to you…I love you so true…why are you casting your wicked spell
on me? Let our fondness brew…haven’t you known that I grew accustomed to
you? Our love was as priceless as Dorothy’s sparkly, glittery red shoes
You’re warm in my arms
I’m sick with the love flu…love at first glance made me spell-bound out of the
blue…you are left without a single clue…haven’t you heard that I loved you? Our
love was as fresh as morning dew…as delicious as winter’s delectable stews
And sick of your love charms
Ch. In my heart, you are in chains
In my heart, I loved you
I had the hearts for you…though I didn’t have the brains
For I was young when I loved you…
Weeping tears of rue (for you…for you)
You were too…so young and blue…
Just like me…just like me…you and I wanna be free from our personal
captivities…we’re lost in our own mazes and we’re bewildered to the core…
you’re the one I adore
Didn’t you know I loved you immensely? I can’t believe you hadn’t a clue…
V.2: Our bitter remorse got out of hand…
Our love was rare and so uncommon…as precious as the arrival of the dawn!
I adored you – don’t you understand?
Don’t give up! Keep trying – oh-oh, come on! Rock on till the day is gone!
What does it mean to you
to be loved
right here
where you live and breathe,
eat and occasionally shower?
What value would you give
our investments of mutual regard?
Do you know
you can love
and be loved
for and as who you are right now?
And for that sainted sinner
you inevitably will become,
and for all those you have been
since first I laid eyes on you,
and smelled you,
and listened for your still small
and large voices.
Love cannot be reduced
and confined
to just one tense,
or even two
with those we are committed to
and for;
And best spreads across
all four seasons
of sacred change.
Love is limited
only by mistrusting imagination,
WinLose dissonant assumption,
reductions of sacred organic integrity
to secular strategic mendacity,
deducted images distancing us
confining what I know and feel
for you and us up to now,
Not disregarding
or over-valuing
past and potential future
wealth for what feels safe for us today
to believe and hope,
our reviving health
tomorrow.
When winters hand out plastic bottled lemon juice
and grieving onions
too long endured,
I would like to trade some for limes
and grateful southern summer garlic
if you have those
to share.
Together
we might make lemon-lime local aid
and add community's basic bullion
for regenerate harvest
building stone multiculturing soup,
green vegetarian
and redmeat simmering stews.
When life hands us lemons
and FixIt unpeeling onions
Earth invites rebirthing us
to re-imagine all four seasons
and three tenses together
our re-creolizing cacophany
with restoring beverage
of healthy re-changing choice
for loving peace as resilient ecojustice.
Love of who and what,
when and where,
and why until just us again,
revisiting community polycultural outdoor worship
during summer health climax
And on through fall harvest,
and yet another inevitable winterish lemon
of creolizing discontent,
stuck inside
liturgical long-range extended family garden planning
plotting sun and water worshiping community love redevelopment,
global song and dance sacred restoration,
healthy-wealth of peace
As integrity of love
for WinWin organic choices
changing four-seasons from above
as below,
without
as within.
All over the news
Rage stews
Seems a war does rage
People are afraid to turn the page
Mankind is entering a new stage
Leaders fight without heart
War of the world seem about to start
Finely disguised school of hate
Openly guiding our fate
Degrees they are earning
But what are they learning
Words of hate flow
How much of it is for show
Pointing attention towards some certain deed
See how the people are in need
Each side saying they are right
Humanity seems brewing for a fight.
Uncertainty is playing a role
Giving into hate takes its toll
Cannot see beyond today
Humanity, we are who pay
Riots in the streets
Building new fleets
A Golden dome
To protect us at home
Words silenced by hate
Trying to change their fate
I hope it's not too late
Life seems to be leaning this way
In a country I will never see
Hearing of the horrors that be
Bet they wish to be free
Poor soul crying
Kneeling by his child dying
The angels must be crying
I fear the path we now take
The repercussions in its wake
There's nothing we can say
It is humanities way
Ride the tide
Or run and hide
On the verge of tomorrow we now ride
Hope for the best
Faiths final test
Be strong
Because I could be wrong
To find out won't take long
Each passing day
Along our way
Takes us closer to this unknown
But I see Hate is now full grown
Sad to see
There lies the land of the free
Worry shadows my mind
In flavors of panic
Anxiety and concern
A rich well of apprehension
Flooding my hope for serenity
Disquiet flows through my veins
In crimson agony
On waves of fearful plans
Fretting on the heart
Who troubles every thought
Uneasiness exaggerates
My placidity, my stillness
The silence that should bring
Fulfillment and wellness
Instead feels dark and dreadful
Burdens cling to my soul
Unending troubles darken
My heart’s deepest grace
The darkness I will face
With a nervous shade of gray
Uneasiness silences my hope
Filling me with despair
Spiritual angst
A war on the inside
Between the mind and soul
Shades of black
Paint faith and love
In dread so murky
It fades all my dreams
To the darkest agonizing
It will take One
Who knows real comfort
To abide on the inside
In hues of grace and peace
Erasing all my fears and tears
With a calm that is alive
On the inkling of hope
Found in the Holy Ghost
It will take One
Who knows my whole heart
To awaken my faith
Discourage stews of disbelief
With a song of devotion
To the One who brings light
Shimmering so alive
Penetrating the soul
With praise for the One who knows
He has all the answers
He is always in control
And fear cannot live
In the heart of those who know
He holds the whole world
In the center of His palm!
Love like this is a cure
For worry that is so brutal
Fear thou not; for I am with thee:
be not dismayed; for I am thy God:
I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee;
yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.
Isaiah 41:10
Renewable Radiance
Streams of clearest light,
Born of a star,
Splash across flaxen maize,
Beckoning tall sunflowers to follow
With their skyward gaze
Dashing through newborn dewdrops
Creating playful shadows
In the bouncing,
dappling,
flashing,
flowing
Golden glow of brilliance in bronze
Making freckles on upturned noses
Or fiery heat on skin neglected
Now captivated by smooth glass faces
In cycles of sunrise and sunset
To find a place in close community
Coming home to rest on rooftops
Turning midnight into morning
Bits of sunspots
Energizing evening
Seeking opportunities
To turn on street lights
Heat a winter night,
Light up empty highway signs
Kitchen lamps in gathering spaces,
Where scents of stews
Float up from simmering pots
Sitting atop daystar fire,
To cool the breath of afternoons
Turning summer heat around in circles
Then ever giving birth to moonlight
Illuminating a garden path
Or candles
Twinkling
In the trees at midnight
Reaching out,
Waiting - standing at attention -
Begging to be used,
But not used up,
Gladly emptied out
Never tiring,
Never holding back
In jealousy,
No matter what the calendar proclaims
Or season promises,
Collected radiance renewable
Renewed
Generating energy
In spinning allegros
Freely given,
Freely breathing,
Inexhaustible,
Joyful
Gift and giver.