Long Streaky Poems
Long Streaky Poems. Below are the most popular long Streaky by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Streaky poems by poem length and keyword.
September morn flutters its bright wings
Radiant colors of love and joy it all brings
Never just a dream
Drizzles fuse with summer air in delight
Rainbow looms are strewn in vast site
They perfectly prim
September smiles brandish vibrantly on air
Virgon-Libran Stars pace dazzlingly in flair
Trees arc overhead
Gilded crackers carpet densely around
Others in streaky flames stud…abound
Let’s frolic and tread
September aroma wafts, whirls… swirls
Bracing breeze bounces, dances, twirls
A lavish confetti-bearer
Overture of year’s most awaiting parts
Enchanting hues rain from the start
Ber Months’ fun greeter
Sept. 23, 2016 (Fri) 9.59pm
©2016Leonora Galinta
I wrote this poem to greet you all lovingly a Very Happy and Blessed September!
Also, a very Happy Birthday to the September Celebrants especially to our very dear poet and friend, Andrea D. Her very special day was last Sept 5. Once again, Happy, Happy Birthday! This poem is for You and for all my/our dear Septemberian poetic friends. Wishing you the BEST in life especially Good Health, Happiness and Success. Biggest and sweetest hugs from me.
I Love and miss you all!
Visit a place where you’ve not been before
And the first thing you face is the sturdy front door.
Of fiberglass, oak, tempered glass, even steel,
The entryway should have a certain appeal.
My country home door, though, was streaky with rust.
The paint was all puckered, the cracks filled with dust.
The glass in the windows no longer got clean;
My husband was tired of changing the screen.
So I finally gave in and we got a new door,
A portal to spiff up the entry décor.
It isn’t embellished, just simple and plain
But it’s neat, a condition I hope to maintain.
When visitors come, they may notice or not
For most likely, the old one was one they forgot
But I’ll welcome them all with the door opened wide
And embrace every one that I usher inside.
carry me home in a pot of severed circles
i must become a square to become more well rounded
i am but a recluse giving french kisses to the public eye
visine is the stop sign caution of the day
at night i have the flashlight sniffles as a direct pathway to clarity
my body feels soapy but there is no streaky scene i'm squeaky clean
i invite myself to ceremonies where all themes are monolithic
i take several falls until i stand with all bones broken
nothing makes sense anymore so i stop sensing
nothing has a groove anymore so i imitate max headroom
nothing pulls me in anymore so i push myself to outer limits
when nothing is left i will be one with the deer and such
jigsaw puzzles become shards of glass of wilted, fragmented souls
this is what we call life now but there will always be disagreements
A Monoku by: Ink Empress
The ink of my skin doesn't define me nor does it construe my poetry.
Am I not human to your eyes?
Do you not see my soul inside that streaky mirror of yours ?
Have you forgotten, that I have a story too?
Beneath the canopy of heaven
God has Bisqued me and left you white,
some he even inked them yellow.
We each have our own unique skin tone,
bone is bone I wasn't meant to be alone.
Bigotry is not acceptable in a world where our heritage
is something we are born in, not something we chose.
Love me as if I were your neighbor, treat me as a brother a sister,
for I hunger just like you and I dream just like you
Am I not human to your eyes?
When you look at the color of my skin,
do you see me, ...as your next of kin?
By: Mystic Rose
No slits watching, the lumps draw near
Reforming slowly, the Peak becomes clear
Forming fingers, then twitchy toes
Returning quickly, from Smith's Repose
Streaky strips of pus aligned
On a cage organically mined
Stars above a starless glove
Where fingers coil to give a shove
Lumps leap down from the Seat
Toes and fingers, strike and meet
Wilting flowers with every catch
Further, further, 'til it feels a latch
Writhing round the handle's shape
It has no strength as a mangled cape
Searching inwards, with no eyes
"A SiNgLe pRoBlEm HoLdS mAnY LiEs"
Like how the plant changed temperaments
The carcass embraces the elements
Hugging the hatch, its metal form
A searing goo begins to swarm.