Long Stoking Poems
Long Stoking Poems. Below are the most popular long Stoking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stoking poems by poem length and keyword.
alpine peaks
a guitar body
a Colombian sink hole
a waxed surf board
fertile crescent silt
a half cut fig
an asterix
Orion's Belt
sun rise rays rising
Pisa's leaning tower
a rollercoaster zipping down
a dog drooling
Apollo 11 on the pad
an icicle dripping
two pair of eyes staring
cherry topped ice cream dollops
rapid hovering hummingbird wings
time lapse glacial floe flowing
sweat on the brow of Rodin's "Thinker"
Moses' Red Sea parting
me kneeling for forgiveness
a tree knot's sap turning to syrup
an anteater's tongue dipping licking
a poker stoking a fire
a Venus Fly Trap slowly closing
faithfully Old Faithful geysering
steam whistles screaming
London Tower falling down
an O'Keefe's iris sighing in pastel
two cigarette butts
an ashtray asleep
Form:
one fine sunny morning dazzling golden sunrise
dancing with rays of magical sunshine
dewdrops on silver webs glistening drops
he began whistling and dancing
picking wild mushrooms on the forest floor
to make magic wonder and happenings occur
he begins building and stoking the fire
throwing turf on until red hot
sticks the pot over the flicking flames
stirring emotions inside bubble and steam
throws in a mountain of carrots, peas, herbs
with lots of other sorts of raw veggies
adding a rare drop of mountain spirits . . .
next freeing a soul adding an alchemic fuel so rare
making himself a most magical and delicious stew
as he cooked he began devouring the stew more and more
then slowly he felt himself floating high so high
in a bubble so wonderful and dear and so clear
picked up by a pocket of air and floating even more
when . . .
a lovely fairy princess appears gossamer wings your light
and then appearing again under a radiant rainbow bridge
and with one cherished and most special romantic kiss
he began waltzing with her to a melody so haunting yet pretty
and while lost in this mystical trancelike moment of splendor
the fairy princess stole his heart that was pure gold
and when he came around alone—so alone
an icy cold shiver then ran down his very spine
it was just a silly old leprechaun dream and all he thought
as I see her magic sparkling potions cast on someone else too
the big ethereal and mystical bubble of fairy elves just burst
wide open for him and all others to see while the elves
laughed raucously so hard with little warm tears running down
their little rosy cheeks . . .
the leprechaun pondered—next time Me thinks Me be more
careful with them mushrooms Me happily picks on the forest floor—
and stick to drinkin’ the old mountain forest dew with some
lovely luscious shots of the oldest Irish whiskey with a stout nip o’ gin . . . .
Liam McDaid and Gary Bateman – A Collaborated Poem, Copyright ©
All Rights Reserved (December 3, 2014) (Free Verse poetic format)
Behind the guise of the masks & words
lay a truth concealed by clever nouns & verbs
Now a fire's lit to match the lies with truth
bearing an eternal flame lighting a wick with proof
From the trees they shoot with a sniper's undertone
engaging an atomic bomb coming overhead by drone
A soldier that's underscored for walking alone by sight
comes with ghosts in tow hidden within his light
He understands their plight & quiet desperation
but warns of stoking his fire by further escalation
Born of desolation he was groomed to grow & know
that he was conceived to rise despite what lay below
The star of his own eternal show that many seek to hide
because of a light too bright for their seedy eyes
Behind the chides & snarky smart remarks
hides an admiration that seems to light their spark
A source of inspiration he seems to attract a hate
that seems to hunger for drama that's hard to sate
He responds to this by cutting it down to size
leveling trees in mass that were never meant to rise
His eyes are clear & not overcome by haze
so, he sees the truth that overcomes malaise
The brazen shots are similar to shooting stars
so, he made a wish dodging the shells & shard
Once scarred by love he was offered a 2nd view
of deceptive hearts that like to hide the truth
Unveiling frauds is sticky but he uses tact with game
leaving lies exposed & them stuck with shame
Ahead of his time with range exceeding years of light
& what is physically possible for earthly sight
He'll continue to shine & with that leave the shade
behind with fallen trees & the wood they made
half-a-face enclos’d in disharmony,
an anti-bliss b’low with blister’d stains.
breaths like steam, seal soak’d
in leather, adorn’d in porcelain.
a face his mother disdain’d.
his image as if twins, one perfect
the other dark soul’d, to the devil yet.
but Christine, lifting fear from her countenance,
braves to brace both palms against his cheeks.
they feel so warm, tender, soft.
they release true love at last.
not the romantic kind
but kindness, a shock
that restarts his heart.
a black rose falls
for a second time,
not in jealousy,
not in bitterness,
not wearing hatred.
the black rose falls onto new snow.
a monster becomes a man.
his heart feels the dagger,
kills his doppelgänger.
he lets her go.
she returns his ring.
he lets her go again.
tears and shatter’d glass
release him once again into the cruel world.
we don’t know where he hides
but a black rose adorn’d
with a wedding ring
appears at her gravestone.
his undying love let her live her life.
he paid homage in the shadows
and perhaps in life after death
he would find one friend.
his opera of romance and terror
ended the night of the swinging chandelier,
the stoking of the flames of hell, where’d
the devil’s horns and tail paid him homage.
recovery of rebirth —
the phantom stirs the lake
in his solitary boat,
no longer afraid of his reflection,
perfection was encased in palms
and lips so pure
and God Himself kissed his forehead.
Welcome son.
3/1/2021
a secret d r e a m of peace
youth making dreamers of all –
amidst enemy F. I.R.E.
p a s s i o n s rode H I G H –
he lays a bridge of worn footprints—
each step a chapter unwritten
in
the
cycle
of
life
as Sisyphus struggled with his burden
the world—
a hostile place
to carve a niche—
while he runs
in circles … his f 8 o 8 o 8 t 8 p 8 r 8 I 8 n 8 t 8 s fading
in Selenic tides
embracing his issue –
( hiding fear )
in the folds of his proud smile :)
opening a Pandora’s jar—
(the original punishment for having sticky fingers)
sticky embraces now
s.o.i.l.i.n.g. his best suit
wearing of gifts bestowed by Zeus –
stoking the fire to excel
W T H N the children blossom –
A C I G
C ! H ! E ! E ! R ! I ! N !G !!! them on
to achieve their dreams
as his b r e a t h catches
in a TighT chest
youthful dreams circle …
unfolding, returning—
he hangs the moon—
an Olympic
torch
passed
on …
The road takes me here, I follow not out of fear. What ever happens next.
Can be sure it will be taken out of text.
Nobody ever says what they feel, Hearts weren't meant to heal.
Just have to be stronger , the only way is to last longer.
Step past yesterday . you are somebody no matter what they say.
No body really wants to play.
I still out lasted the day.
Heading for tomorrow.
Still heard does carry a touch of sorrow.
For things lost,
Keeping myself going at all cost.
Not all was lost.
Desire
Still stoking my fire.
To be or not to be ,
The answer was set free.
Overlooked
Overbooked
Out of date
Out to late.
A matter of fate.
Life drifting out of reach.
Trying to grasp the lessons life had to teach.
While traveling down a familure path you sometimes fail to see
The beauty before you that be.
Blinded by what you fear
Or maybe what you hold dear.
Some paths cross
Some end with loss.
Stumbling ever forward
Ever toward
To a dream your not sure you can even see.
Stumbling by obstacles, Hearts seeking to be free.
The paths ending is beyond my sight.
Wondering if tomorrow is worth the flight.
Yesterday has such a story to tell.
But I know the story only too well.
Done rang that bell. But even as the echo faded,
Into tomorrow I've done waded.
Brought hope
Rather than the rope.
More time alone. Is what I'm shown.
Till time ticks its last.
Went so fast.
Wasn't always a blast.
I stand on my own ,despite all I've been shown.
The power of love
Our love is like
a river that flows...
strong currents
carry us away...
Life changes direction
as it goes,
regenerating our love,
everyday
Our love is like
a strong wind that blows,
soaring together
on the wings of love
Gusting through
the windmills,
our love grows...
energizing the
seagull and the dove
Chorus
I feel,
the power of love,
when you look at me...
a magnetic attraction,
draws you close to me.
I feel,
the power of love,
lying next to you...
a synergy of passion,
that burns forever
clean and true.
Our love is like
the blazing sun...
illuminating all of
our life's pathway,
Radiating heat
on everyone...
reflecting and collecting
each and everyday
Chorus
I feel,
the power of love,
when you look at me...
a magnetic attraction,
draws you close to me.
I feel,
the power of love,
lying next to you...
a synergy of passion,
that burns forever
clean and true.
Our love is a
consuming fire...
the flames warm us,
and keeps our love burning
We toss in coals,
with each passing glance,
stoking the embers that,
keeps us forever yearning
Chorus
I feel,
the power of love,
when you look at me...
a magnetic attraction,
draws you close to me.
I feel,
the power of love,
lying next to you...
a synergy of passion,
that burns forever
clean and true.
Chorus repeat and fade
John Derek Hamilton
January 26,2016
5 down..for just 84..what do you do.. try and survive..shut the door..or instead more hardcore jive...out on the lash ..go to town..
On his way to 184..borrowed the crown from the real deal surreal cartwheel Panto clown..smash down the door..
Red hot..bespoke with the oak..smoking..old school Ben Stoking..first ball stroking for four..
Robin Hoods with the wood..forget Bazball..score quick..this is rabbit out of a hat trick Bazbat…the latest riff…
Smith so svelte..helter skelter..velvet belter..decided with his tintin quiff..to go.. well biff..Indian tiff..felt..smelt.. the tangy twang pang..dealt a dashing dollop of crashing flashing banging wallop..
Every Test tragic.. loving how Jamie and his magic torch did scorch..the run reaper..nearly took number one spot with the fastest ton..still got..the highest ever Test score for an England keeper..and only 24..
Let's rant…about Smith and Pant..the Gilly God above giving his nod..the Wizard of Oz..Lord of the willow sword..showing his love..for the zen of the men or bruvs with the glove..
The notorious adored odd bod panto Pant.. and his brother from another mother..glorious
Smudge not giving a fudge..not just giving the scoreboard a nudge but an almighty Blighty budge..
Smith's sublime partner in crime… dirty flirty Harry also got them shirty with some barnstorming performing..
A nifty pretty shifty 150..as north..met south..our poise boys..from the Republic and Surrey..hitting not just a flurry but a slurry of runs in a hurry..
Will give them some slack..but if there has been a faint Bazbat taint..always having a crack..all out attack..a lack of that knack of restraint..no looking back..artists with only one way to paint..
Willing to adapt and change..us fans rapt..still immense offense but with more defence..alright common sense ..
Smith and Brook wasn't an..off their trolley volley folly..the way they played..slayed and flayed.. by golly made sure the Hollies..still held sway..eased their dismay and stayed jolly..
Won't pretend ..was always only one way this was going to end..
Jamie.. Jamie..Jamie and his magic torch..
In pink fluttering the wings of blonde night
Her tender footsteps on my dark pencils
With ease would she call the cascade all down
Stoking the bubbling mountains in her frills
My quiet monks would fight to press black grapes
While her worlds would show up in red and white
To peel bananas would enter wild apes
In envy would look down April starlight
Boundaries of all sorts are just nonsense
Said her smiling sky blue blouse while away
Let poems knit the flames from the contents
The ground got busy in a tremor sway
All trees have stopped blossoming flowers now
Sparkles cups of drinks that she did allow
Dated July 8, 2019
Within the twilight of the witching hour,
where dreams mingled with reality,
your tongue, a sacred blade, flicks me open—
each unspoken word unfurling from your lips
presses against the ache of mine like a spell.
And I gasp—
my lungs filled with stardust sighs,
as explosions of nebulae grace the dark behind my eyes.
"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire".
In the gravity of your kiss, I taste the cosmos,
each particle a hymn of knowing:
there is no holier truth
than to be drawn into your orbit.
The hallucinogenic hymnal hums low,
and secrets spill from me like sacred offerings,
stoking the fire of our ritualistic ravaging.
Our souls swirl with stardust and cosmic lust,
entwined in divine disarray,
beaming through a haze of shimmering particles.
Essence entangles like twin serpents—
coiled hemipenes locked in a celestial trance,
rekindling the ancient flame.
I stitch my lifelines into your skin, silver-threaded,
a living scripture written in shimmering ink.
Within this realm of halcyon hymns,
we are a sensual sonata,
notes melting into ether
as we dissolve, waiting
for the encore of reincarnation.
Our new bodies form
from the shards of broken constellations,
and we descend once more
through heaven’s opalescent gate—
hopeful that fate's hand, in quiet mercy,
will place us again
into each other’s sacred embrace.