Long Suckles Poems

Long Suckles Poems. Below are the most popular long Suckles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Suckles poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Between the Stingers

Trust, like a pitiless whore-master, grins
as between the sheets and at my breasts, he suckles.
Though Cupid lauds' the joy, I feel only stings.

The manic moon shivers to shriek-like violins
as trusting seed is split and son-less my knees buckle
mother-less street urchin blanched, impatient, sin.

In sympathy the sun pales night's mood swings
seeking to caress and hold with a fractured chuckle
love's exhausted, and misspent, ripened lingerings 

To the dying day and I, cry of might-have-beens
ivory white my ice hands, my bleeding knuckles
Trust like a pitiless whore-master grins
Though Cupid lauds' the joy, I feel only stings.


Mind's Furnished Rooms

In mind's castle many furnished rooms
In upper chamber, chaste virtue grooms
In lower chamber, strands of civility bloom
In antechamber, auxiliary dreams, visions illume
In the inner chamber, fears, insecurities subsume
In dim, adjoining corridors, venal guile do entomb
From bed chamber, hypothalamus, carnal libations spoon
In library, Prefrontal cortex, sentient patterns resume
In nursery, hippocampus, Id suckles the womb
In hearth's cozy fireplace, nurtured Ego swoons
From dusky, dank cellar, hidden desires fume
In dungeon's dark recesses resides a foreboding gloom
In courtyard, amygdala, aesthetic designs mushroom
Form: Rhyme

Touched By An Angel

My life, it has ambled treacherously for some time now,
To the cheerless and ecstatic, diurnal and nocturnal rhythms somehow. 
Furtively it quests for joys life seldom offers,
With the touch of its lips and the rock of hips, from luck and fortune’s brimming coffers.

From caged intangible impregnable expanse, into my hazy apparitions, an angel, she descends,
To be tended softly first and then into me she blends.
An angel they say she is to all mankind,
Peace of mind and all the joys festoon themselves combined to whoever she be confined.

Last Sunday’s dawn, when seeking solitude in a musing trance,
Meditating on my heart chakra, without thoughts in my mind swaying in a the ceremonial dance,
I felt the caress of her aura and poise,
Mien & demeanor of her simplicity swept across me without any noise

My yearning heart suckles on her auric light and feverous emotions that are diffuse,
Kindness her moniker, and from now on from within me she will repeatedly unleash and break loose.
21/3/2012, by:  Sashi. Prabhu (zeauoxian)
Form: Sonnet

Ubuntu

I am 
 simply 
   because 
          you are…
    Your breath 
     suckles
  the Esse
in me….
                                                      
  Your 
eye 
bathes 
 my path
     in light…
                  My 
                     heart
                        binges 
                              on the
                         sweetness 
                                        of
                                      your 
                                       nectar…
                                           My
                                       weary 
                                        soul 
                                      finds
                                      rest
                       
                               beneath 
                                 your 
                          wings…
      
                         My
                     sails
              heaving
        with your 
         infinite
abundance..

   My wits
   are but
   a mote     
   of your  
 limitless      
brilliance 
There is
  no me
without 
  You….
                                    

                      
     
           
              * Ubuntu or Botho is 
               an original African
               path of 
               enlightenment 
               It’s not a religion 
               It’s simply respect
               for life in all its forms.
Form:

Premium Member Deaf not Blind

Deaf can see symphony sounds with eager eyes
Imagining the noise as brown, flight of butterfly 
Feeling the music from the car radio in time
Nodding with it in silver synch 
To the rhythm deaf not blind

Walking on the beach as tan sand suckles feet
Toes making bowls of mud 
while waves dance on repeat
And the cascading sun rays 
All golden what is their sound
Perhaps they sound like a soft smile falling down

The drumming of an infants heart
As he jumps in arms and hands
Holding sweet child like holding a star
From a distant heaven or far land

The sound of tears of joy 
Splashing in festive face
Happiness that fill a void
Gifts of God’s love and grace

Can you hear my satin soul
Rejoice on the deaf choir
Hands dance a ballet of gold
Sign language lifted higher

I am differently abled to hear
Sights hearing people may miss
Sounds of excitement I hold dear
As a deaf person I feel bliss
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Brutal Night

War drones streak colour across the sky,
in the enchanted lake of the full moon
on the sleepless moon’s navel
as though rose petals bloom.
From the night’s torn belly
crimson feathers fall.
Instantly slipped out of my mouth:
Ah, how beautiful!
I didn’t realise what an inhuman sin
I had committed.

My eyes begin to close;
corneas burn in toxic carbon smoke,
blood bursts beyond its vessels in revolt.
A volcano roars in my lungs,
My heart bleeds out;
houses blaze around me,
and burning too…
the beloved’s lips caught in a midnight kiss,
and the child who suckles his mother’s
charred breast.

A flock of birds screams and flees
over the Gaza Strip crossing
the Mediterranean…
They are free, they wander where they will,
seeking an unwritten inheritance.
Humans draw borders
even between the souls,
they find no place to live.
They should not ask for bread,
Yet capitalism feeds on their blood.

Along the shattered Via Maris
lie rows of blood-soaked bodies;
The world consumed
by the commerce of the dead.

A dying mother’s Jabelia olive eyes
stare into mine,
terrifying and beautiful!
I can do nothing.
My limbs begin to stiffen;
A bullet cuts through my heart.
The blood-red pages of history in my hands
turn to ash on the wind.
Today, humanity auctioned in the market of arms
And I am helpless.
Today, human faith dies before the dominance.

Premium Member Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving Day

There’s something about Thanksgiving Day
That makes living worthwhile
With thankfulness for home and family.
While the children are outside playing,
The adults are bustling and fussing around,
Preparing and cooking food in the kitchen,
Which suckles the palate and warms my heart
And makes me happy to witness.

With the gobbler in the oven
And pumpkin pies chilling,
The aroma is delicious.
“Stay out of the way!” they say.
There are moments in life
When it’s best to become invisible,
And so I join the others in the living room
Who are chatting away and watching television.

To hear the sound of the table setting
As we sit and wait, anticipating, and then,
Heard over the chatter and TV, “Dinner’s ready!”
There’s something about so grand a meal
Of turkey and all of its trimmings shared with family
That makes me grateful and sleepy after eating.
And as I doze off, I contemplate the future:
“Without God in our lives, where would we be?”
Form: Verse

Premium Member Sofonisba Anguissola Self Portrait

Do you feel an ache from your virgin breasts,
as you paint the Madonna whom God blessed?
Your eyes present an almost haunted glow,
hands delicate barely hold onto brush.
Insanity almost seems within your reach.
You barely smile as you look my way.
I'm left to wonder where I should gaze.

Mother leans forward baby speaks in ear.
Are you cultured woman able to hear?
Has the Christ child left you in darkness?
Will light ever shine beneath your cloak of black?
Perhaps downturned lips will rise in ecstacy!
A child to love who suckles at your breast.
Secret joyful sounds a heart caressed.

Attempt at an inverted Sonnet for the renaisance
woman-- 2nd in the series contest.
Sponsor Cyndi Macmillan

Self portrait with her painting a picture 
of Christ child wispering in Mary's ear.
Form: Sonnet

An Answered Prayer

Sleepless, she struggles to breathe in and out
Her nose blocked; a cough once in a while
The mucus in her nostrils and bronchi, who will rout?
A prayer on my lips; what praise report will I file

Jehovah Rapha, take this cup of suffering away
I cannot sit and listen to her as she suckles
I praise your name; even in this you hold sway
On our knees we will fight this with bare knuckles

She is awake talking to the sofa in baby talk
It is half past four in the morning, cold
Our redeemer lives; with Him we walk
Happy again; proud to be part of His fold

With baby’s permission, I wish to lie down
Will sleep escape us with the coming dawn?
I celebrate the gift of another day, without a frown
As my sleepy, happy head stifles a yawn
Form: Rhyme

A Summer Askance

Razzle dazzle us with honey suckle flowers sweet sweet summer 
and bring us  butterflies of spring, on your shiny golden hummer  
Let the golden sun kiss the earth and let the wild birds fly  along 
the beach, as we sandal up and walk the shore with happy song  

Dizzle  drazzel the ruby roses as they come to grow alongside you  
let us feel the warm breeze on our skin and help us blush anew 
Beneath the heaven, let there be light and a tad of cerulean blue 
I know you know the ways of health so please, sunray us a few ?   

Frizzle frizzle goes the pavement as we geer up for the heat   
give us plush green grass for we are eager to plant our feet 
we need playgrounds we need parks , an even open view  
we need children's laughter, pretty flowers of every hue  

Razzle dazzle us with honey suckles and wild wild roses too 
we need a world full of people who are healthy, once anew .
Form: Rhyme

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