Long Suggestively Poems
Long Suggestively Poems. Below are the most popular long Suggestively by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Suggestively poems by poem length and keyword.
“Not even with a mask or 6 feet.
OK, 6 feet is military protocol.
You’re trying to get the people to train them
so when the cameras,
the 5G come out,
when they’re going to scan everybody.
We got to get scanned,
we got to get temperatured,
the kids have to go to school with masks.”
She posited a question
that she might have been asked herself.
“Are you insane?
Are you crazy?
I think all of you should
be in a psych ward right the heck now
. Because none of you,
none of you know
what the hell you a
re talking about.
This is insane.
And then you want to
open the meeting with a prayer to God.
Are you praying to the devil?
Because God
is not listening to that prayer.
Because all of you are
practicing the devil’s love.”
“What happened to Bill Gates?
Why is he not in jail?
Why is Hillary Clinton not in jail?
Why are all these pedophiles that are demanding
you all to listen to their rules,
why are they not in jail?
Why is Obama not in jail
What about Joe Biden
And Hunter Biden too
And Obama gate
And don’t forget Bhenzai
Why are all these pedophiles that are demanding
you all to listen to their rules,
why are they not in jail?
Do you take your orders from Jeffry Epstein?
“Oh, is it because you’re part of them?…
Oh, is it because you’re art part of them
Are you reptilian shapeshifters
The deep state is going down
and if any of you are in the deep state,
you’re going down with it.”
“I’d like to say, in the beginning God
formed man out of the earth
and breathed his breath in him
and he became a living soul,
“Oh, is it because you’re part of them?…
The deep state is going down
and if any of you are in the deep state,
you’re going down with it.”
“I’d like to say, in the beginning
God formed man out of the earth
and breathed his breath in him
and he became a living soul,
“Where do you derive
the authority to regulate human breathing?”
“I have many questions
about your degrees
and what you really know,
because what you say is the political dogma
that they’re trying to shove down our throats
on every commercial and every store,
and it’s disgusting,”
And I’m sorry, ma’am,
but I don’t think you are worthy of your credentials
and I would ask suggestively
that you go back to school and get educated.”
I made a covenant with my eyes,
Never to look lustfully at the thighs,
Not to look suggestively at a lady,
Not to admire her pulchritudinous body,
What has happened now..,
I find myself sinning in a row,
Am selling my eyes ooh,come buy them naah!
I assured myself not to utter,
Anything of romance as it would be bitter,
I promised to see all ladies as my sister,
Never to seduce,allure them, but sisterly utter,
Everything has changed,
Satan,his angels have my mind mingled,
Am selling my eyes ooh,come buy them naah!
Whenever I see a lady,I become hot,
My eyes see a beautiful lady,a sister not,
They conjoin the brain to admire,
I find myself salivating, and a phone number, I acquire,
I say I will text her bible verses,
But the conspiracy in me bring love advances,
Am selling my eyes ooh,come buy them naah!
At times,am sitted planless,
A lady passes,my eyes pop out in questness,
They make me call the damsel,
Witnessing as I prepare my journey to hell,
Instead of preventing me from sinning,
They always see every skirt stunning,
Am selling my eyes ooh,come buy them naah!
Enough is enough,am damn tired,
Females have nicknamed me a sex bud,
A womaniser is my new noun,
Leave alone seductor which is my pronoun,
Can't I not live in peace,
Or are they a necessity for being at ease,
Am selling my eyes ooh,come buy them naah!
Eyes have produced killer kings,
Made them sin with rings,
Are they not eyes that made king David,
see Bathsheba full with beauty gravid,
And conspirated to make her husband killed,
As he enjoys what his eyes reaped,
Am selling my eyes ooh,come buy them naah!
How I wish my eyes be lustfulless,
In every last they see,ugliness,
In every skirt around,tightless,
In every girl child creations, bootyless,
For every thighs seen,smoothless,
And for an engagement with my brain to sin,cordless,
Am selling my eyes ooh,come buy them naah!
Dear Lord, I know have sinned greatly,
Fallen short of your glory broadly,
I beg for another chance,
To revive and change for once,
Help me God,let me be prayerful,
As I train my eyes not be lustful,
Am selling my eyes ooh, come buy them naah!
PoetIgweee
THE POOP OF LIFE
The poop word is a replacement
For the other four letter word
You know the one that means poop
The one you have most likely heard
There is a lot of poop in our life
That is really like our body poop
Both are really a necessity for living
Let me give you the comparison scoop
The type of food taken in your body
Or what is fed into your life for you
Will certainly determine precisely
What type of poop you’re getting in to
If you let the poop get all built up
You tend to want to push and strain
In hopes to hurry and force it out
That can only cause cramps and pain
Slow down and take a deep breath
It really is always best to just relax
The more you try to lighten up yourself
The easier it will be for the poop to pass
It’s time to worry if you have no poop
Or if you just can’t get that poop out
Keep it fresh and make room for more
It feels great when it is all cleaned out
A stall full of poop has the best worker
As Proverbs 14:4 suggestively does say
So a good worker does poop a lot
Please don’t let it pile up for days
No one wants to step in your poop
Or even wants to see it for that matter
We need to clean up our own poop
Every little particle or a tiny splatter
It is important to remember
To always wipe twice
It’s like double checking
And it’s really the best advice
If the same old poop is left
Just everywhere lying around
It only attracts the flies and scum
Those pests from every part of town
At times there may be a lot
Of just stinky hot air
Then sometimes you get
The real poop coming there
There are many different types
Of shapes, sizes and textures
With the daily poop we’re given
The variety of life is measured
I could probably go on and on
Even you may think of more, I know
So I’ll leave you with this one last note
Try not to get caught in deep poop though
Florence McMillian (Flo)
I
"Gotta job as a nanny!"
"Maybe they'll hire me as a butler"
"Butler and nanny always live
in close quarters"
She winks
He raises and eyebrow suggestively
II
"I love flirting with poets
so...
palpable"
"Indeed my dear, indeed.
We are a flirtatious, passionate creature"
"But we're also dramatists
adulterers
alcoholics
and prone to murder and suicide"
"Yes, some may look down on our kind,
but goddamn, we ain't boring"
III
"The first time I read Bukowski,
it was like I rediscovered
some part of myself
that was missing
or that I'd hidden away
either consciously or subconsciously
years ago.
I might have to write that down.
New freeverse."
"Love when that happens"
"Me too.
That's one thing i love about talking to poets.
Conversations often turn into writing"
"Simple Ideas morph into insolent dreams.
There's my freeverse snippet of the day"
IV
"A good poet may exaggerate,
but is no liar"
"True;
and exaggeration is like getting high,
makes everything better.
Possible Haiku?"
V
"Love is our strongest muse"
"Absolutely.
It's the most vital element to human life;
brings our greatest highs and deepest lows"
VI
"The cool thing about dating poets
is that they don't give a care
if you get
caught up with someone else
and by caught up
I mean
hopelessly
carelessly
seeexually
entangled."
VII
"The white gown
drapes over your succulent frame
like a dress of beauty.
Your hair, rusty orchid
in the shade of the picture,
cascades down smooth cheeks
the hand can die happy
having once caressed."
"That was my mom's wedding dress.
I like rusty orchids,
and the Shakespearian ending
was a harpsichord
resonant
a saunter around my affection for the dead
living
doll
I once was
came again to the meter of memory
an escapist serenade"
VIII
"Where does time go
when poets commerce?"
"Onto the paper"
This poem is dedicated to a special far away friend - Brandden Blackwell. We became so close before we actually met. So close, yet so far away - never around, yet always there - It's kind of like describing a metaphoric friend. Thanks, Brandden for inspiring the artistic flair we will forever share.
Metaphorically Speaking
Metaphorically speaking
We find life is just as such
Not giving facts precisely
And meaning not as much
Speaking in forms of reference
Searching to define what is heard
It suggestively leads us to believe
It was really meant in other words
For the analogy of something other
A figure of speech is produced for it
It is given with just so many words
Even beating around the bush a bit
There is such a variety of life about
May be why facts aren’t given to all
As some may take it the wrong way
To certainly cause their downfall
Every insinuation or symbolization
You will find several points of view
Where there are just so many others
To view way differently than you
So we must be careful to others
Of what we say or rather imply
We will be judged for our words
On judgment day when we die
Many times in the matter of love
It is not always honestly expressed
How someone’s heart really feels
Then the joy is lost and depressed
As we verify and clarify in life
Searching to find what is true
There is nothing as it really seems
The bible is full of metaphors too
God says we are to test all things
Then to hold fast to what is good
As written in 1 Thessalonians 5:21
We will then find what we should
A metaphorically speaking life
Must be truly meant to be
For when the truth is found
You will surely be set free
Florence McMillian (Flo)
AMERICA, OH AMERICA
America, oh America, the mother of Exiles,
Mighty woman with a torch,
Towers high as a top notch
Whose flame is the imprisoned fire
With conquering limbs empire,
Astrife from kingdom to kingdom
Aiming to regulate the world's freedom
Fooled the world, psychopathic savagery
Comes a nightmare nation's can't win. Sadly
Inciting the world's pain
Just for a self-centered gain.
Why enforce anti-coronavirus vaccine
To reduce the world strain
And population via an epidemic never seen
Earth quacking, nation's unconscious
Micro chip initiative, a sociopathic barbarism,
5th Generation arising but the world is suspicious
Now terrorism unites the Christians and every Muslim
Illuminati illuminating ill-boding injuries
With unimaginable wealth and affluence,
Obsession for power and control influence
Implementing the Luciferean agenda,
On a mission of no retreat no surrender,
Initiating a Bill through the Gates,
Deaths baits? Well, we will willingly wait.
Bill's Billions breeding bioactive vaccines,
Satan launching his arsenals and machineries,
Forby mendacities leading to deadly advancement,
Deceitfully enforcing a One World Government
Suggestively and opinionatedly by Pope Francis
Preparing the ground for the Antichrist menace.
"In God We Trust" means God's own country
Now oridinary a slogan to all and sundry,
Deviated from the Godly path of ancestors & esteemed,
No more the dream the dreaming dreamers dreamed.
America, oh America!
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 8th April, 2020.
It comes in beta waves,
an electro-magnetic tone
The blu-ray timbre
channel surf creep
in your sleep
Then it’s rapid eye movement gone
This disembodied voice
whispers robo-call suggestively,
“Vote for American czar me”
Saying, cast your ballot
for the hand that turns the screw
Will govern by absentee headspace,
be a virtual
proxy voice for the oligarch few
Reverberated words of coin authoritarian oscillation
soundbyte feed discontent
Promising to Twitter lead,
mint breath blindly,
by jingle radar sense: Foment ability of echolocation
The drifting voice,
grifting in the poll ether,
uses dead president divination
to ruble follow the money
It’s silver tongue got Midas finger talent,
oh so gold digger uncanny
This disembodied Klux voice
utters in dark tone, Klu bigotry:
“Vote cult figuratively
for wannabe dictator me!
I’ll put Democracy,
in a freedom of speech deprivation sleep
Let my electoral lullaby mood of choice
allow the bane of tyranny
to give you a text disenfranchised voice”
The vexatious tone of the disembodied drone
urges every rebel diehard
to ballot gray matter play their trump card
Tho’ most bellow vociferously
To take a chance,
and gamble on chaos longevity
By selecting the Joker
chortling insane asylum policies
You can hear the disembodied voice
in your waking dreams —
Floating lunatic fringe
Ideas
that’ll make you cringe
she …
stood on tiptoe ...
her hair knot, now unpinned, softly burst
tawny, gold-streaked tresses
tumbling down her shapely form
coming to sassy rest upon her rounded backside
and on the cool of his hand 'bout her waist
his deft index and middle fingers
twirled her tanzanite and rhenium hair pin
pinky finger tugging suggestively
at her patent leather belt
while his other hand attended to
the buttons of her blouse
its soft cashmere sliding off her softer shoulders
(like azure slides off a pink sky at dusk) …
she stretched her neck to reach up
her supple chili pepper lips
pressing against cool steel and biofibre
eyes once again searching for
the spark in his -
perfectly-shaped, bright baby blue irises
shuttering with robotic precision -
the coal black pupils reflecting positronic energy
deep in their unnatural recesses …
she loved “him” dearly ... in her way -
had compromised a great deal
just to get here -
to this place of caring-yet-cautiously-cold cooperation
miraculous metal and the fairest flesh
bared and bound to each other …
they were, by all standards,
happy and passionate and vital
yet it was just that - a spark in his eyes -
that she longed for most
that she dreamed of and ever questioned
that she dreaded, deep-down
she might never …
see.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Select 6, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
It was early,
The solemn, silent sunrise wrought its
Rays across the untamed land like a
Shorn-clad Delilah.
Dew glistened the foliage
Like undefiled razer blades nestled
Within a mortar's payload.
Morning haze,
Suggestively seductive in its
Sureness of the divine destiny
Lingered, a dwelling
Companion of aimless hope,
Brightly darkening the path
Juxtaposed by the future.
Treachery,
And the spoiled, sour smell of her exploits
Permeated the dawn hour like
A whore's flatulence
Leaving me sick with fear.
What deeply dark insidious ideas
Gnawed at the surfaces of truth?
Terrified,
I observed the sallow, sickly sky
Defy the natural laws of a
Thousand, million æons.
The once proud, brilliant sun
Had ceased its solemn western path
And had set its course due east.
I heard screams.
Shrill, spearing sounds drilling to my core.
Primal agony no beast of the earth
Should be forced to bear.
As I looked to console
This poor miserable creature I found
The sounds were coming from me.
I looked east
And was sickened by the sight I saw.
It was the succubus, Treachery
Shadowing the light
And destroying the path
That the sun used to blaze through every day
As the star let it happen.
Now I mourn
The loss of the slowly sinking sun,
The brilliant warmth it brought to my life
And the growth we shared.
Sitting in the dark,
Perched atop my mountain, I still hope
He remembers how he shined.
[Written as a sort of sea shanty style thing-a-me-Bob. Tin Fish = Torpedo]
When the tin fish hit me starboard I was thrown into the sea
I sank down to the ocean bed for all eternity
I met a man called Davy Jones who handed me a key
I opened up his locker just to see what I might see
But then I sensed my captain who came drifting up to me
He gazed upon the locker with some curiosity
I looked into the locker and was quite surprised to see
A brandy for my captain and another one for me
We drank the brandy down and then my captain looked at me
He said do you feel squiffy and I said, ‘Decidedly’
I sprouted extra legs and then I hollered frantically
It seems that Davy Jones has made an octopus of me
But then I saw a mermaid and she winked suggestively
Strangely she was right there where the captain used to be
And then it dawned upon me that the mermaid once was he
The captain sure was pretty now, but too much man for me
He still had all his ‘tackle’ which was pointing straight at me
I quickly crossed my legs - all eight - but then I couldn’t flee
The captains mast was raised and he intended it for me
I tried to swim for freedom as I screamed hysterically
And then I felt my shoulder being shaken frantically
The naval doctor said I wasn't drowning in the sea
The medic blamed my diet and he made me this decree
Don’t have cheese for supper or much later than your tea