Long Take after Poems
Long Take after Poems. Below are the most popular long Take after by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Take after poems by poem length and keyword.
And so it begins … my crew will over treat
themselves to ample chocolate for I have just stuffed our
pantry sweetly-full again:
No one will know why the stocked, offered sweets, meant to last
about a week were otherwise offed before two full days passed;
All will be equally mute and dumb about sweet crumbs in play
room, den, beds, and chocolate lint-hit debris inside pockets;
No one will claim a food mess made and left to be discovered,
no, they will all blame pals, fictitious gerbils and each other;
When a sweet ingredient vanishes that I bought for a recipe,
no family peep will be able to describe or imagine its demise;
and, despite my threat of live yard burial, they steal my favorite,
small chocolate morsels to top off their bowls of cereal.
I have a good-sized, hidden, box stocked full of the best stuff.
Looking thru cleaning products would be conduct void of any
profit so I am confident my stash, by child or spouse, will never
be found.
I often hide in my closet to suck or chew my way to chocolate
heaven. When eat-hiding, I fuss about my kids lack of desire
raring to thread a needle of ambition to sew up some
consideration.
All of my offspring take after their dad; they are myopic and
episodic. They overeat, overly zoned out on electronics like lab
rats on narcotics.
You’re certainly missing out
Whilst you’re fooling about
And you’re swimming in doubt
So I shall certainly you out-rout
I’d advise you to be on the lookout
For I’m your rival, far more worthy a scout
Take heed or you’ll end up looking like a lout
All I can tell you for now is that you’re missing out
While you’re looking away
Twirling in relentless dismay
Your insolence successfully leads you astray
So He finds me in greater favour every day
Unlike you, I’m eloquent with words that gently sway
The God with whom for hours on exhausted knees I stay
‘Till the last hour of the night a dear prayer to say
With heartfelt sobs and a submissive heart I pray away
I whisper, “Dear God of mercy, show me your face
For I am a sinner in need of Your saving Grace
For years in meditation and supplication I’ll chase
The benedictions You bestow unto the winners of the race
The so-called ‘faithful’ ones who cautiously pace
In the promising path which for them You daily trace”
I solemnly utter, “My heart with Love and Faith do interlace
So I can one good day be worthy of seeing Your glorious face”
If you were smart, you’d take after me
Vigilant and sober at all times you’d be
So from the snares of the enemy you’d easily flee
Who’s literally got you down on one knee
Yet too proud you are for your life to give an earnest plea
No diligence whatsoever for efforts to be free
Indeed that thief I am, the thief of grace, you see
Watch out, or you’ll lose all your blessings to me
The chameleon shuddered profusely,
It had never climbed to the top of a sky scraper before,
The melanin refused to scatter,
It could not make up its mind:
To take after the blue of the sky?
Or to be grey...
Every morning it felt the sunshine gold,
Caressing the slippery unevenness
Like the first waterfall down a nascent hill,
Stealthily through promenades,
And shrieking ladies on the way,
It reached the flies' humdrum festival
On a gloomy velvet cynosure of rejection from the other world.
That day, from the branch it saw the reflection of serenity,
And while it slithered through coffee machine conversations,
Geriatric glasses emanating dismay,
Fervid love affairs,
And lonely, revamped furniture
It reached the zenith of monotone,
Yet either of the eyes revolved unheeding cadence.
The journey had been iridescent,
And the Wind was colourless,
So even though it swayed in harmony with Her,
It didn't know what to be...
And it didn't know how to sprinkle white,
If mimicked the sky,
And so it became grey again,
Like on the trees,
And every dawn.
If my typing seems illegible some times
I tend slant it to the left or the right,
Forgive me if you cannot read it,
Let me know please don’t get up tight.
See I was born with this left-handedness,
And I am not to blame.
I take after by poor old dad,
Who suffered from it just the same.
It is all to do with how you place your key board,
I face mine left instead of straight in front of me.
This gives the letters a right hand slant,
Look closely at the screen and you will see.
So now if your eyes have gone all squint,
And you’ve read and done all I ask.
Then you just as insane as me,
For this insanity test you can give yourself a pass.
Here's a new one for your ears to hear
But keep a keen eye out as well my dear
Cause somewhere within there's a coy little clue
In the form of a wink and a smile for you
To let you inside the depths of my mind
To give you a glimpse of a message, the kind
Of a message that's meant to convey
The fact that its meaning is clear and not gray
The meaning is that this recording is yours
I thought of you sitting with me on the floor
Our legs were crossed over each other's just when
I got a good take after trying again
I wanted to stop but you said it's okay
Just play it the way you would play on Sunday
Your eyes and your smile helped see me through
You know I'd do anything you asked me to
I just can't say no to my beautiful dove
Okay I admit it, yes, you I do love
And think about, think about, think of all day
And wonder, do you think of me too but don't say?
I have tried to check the meaning of life in the dictionary and the irony is that I haven’t found the meaning yet. I don’t know what defines life but I do know you are the perfect definition of it and a couple more terminologies. Life without you is like being in a vacuum. Banks stash cash in vaults, soldiers hide in fortresses, but I’ll hide you in my heart. Beauty no longer lies in the eyes of the beholder; it lies on my chest. If beauty was a virus then I’ve just found my source. You are the S.I unit and the threshold of beauty. Just like the covenant, my kingdom will forever host beauty for I am the true keeper
Curves depict the framework of a chick. A photographer takes pictures, kids take after their parents but I want to take you out, do you agree? B comes before C how about I come before you and tell you how much I want you. It’s awesome how I can play with the 26 letters to form words like sexy, hot and Sharon. I don’t have an address but I can undress you.
something in the air called loneliness
makes me do things that are disguised
as outlets
my heart does the thinking for my brain
and the brain does the beating for my
heart
thinking that it is all a recipe for renovation
is actually a blueprint for surefire disaster
i laugh at my own jokes as i lie to myself
knowing that something is wrong and that
the pain is obviously there
something starts to fall as i imagine a hand
that i so long to hold and the beauty that i
so yearn to see
puzzles in my mind cannot be put together
in any type of strategic way and board games
in my heart can never be won in any type of
masterful fashion
knowing this, i just go on with my head held high
trying to mask the raging sorrow that i feel for
myself
repetition is like a pill you intentionally take after the
expiration date's expiration
seduction is like a laxative that starts working in the heart
of a long-awaited exploration
i wish i could christen myself at my own rededication, but a
voice ever so unhealthy for me continuously asserts its
persistence to give me medication
unfocused with no hint of even a smidgen of a goal, i kindly
follow blindly....
Some scribblings that pass for poetry
Yes they bear style and symmetry
But very wordy and message thin
And however much you listen keen
There’s little or nothing to be drawn
Not a mind thrilled, not a soul won
Cheapening the art I work to uphold
As a custodian red hot and stone cold
I take after the order of the psalmists
Penning fantastic fantasies as real to realists
Aiming for indelible works worth filing
Piece upon piece they keep piling
And just as light is distinct from dark
I make shown the difference stark
For as much as God’s Grace is supplied
The works show by the skill applied
Poetry has told both history and prophecy
And is one with life an odyssey
If the present falters, the past will hold fort
Until the hopeful day when the future resorts
To uphold this discipline with excellence
As a way of according its giver due reverence
Then shall we witness how mastery tends
And among us reside living legends
K. Muitherero
Luna laughed as she leave the bar.
Sheila laughs too for she is too giddy to do anything else.
In other bars, her daughters are laughing,
Leaving with men.
For they are younger
And take after their mother.
The moon is too bright tonight Sheila thinks.
Shuddering at the impulsive thing she is about to do.
Leaving with two strange men for a private party.
She had a bad feeling about it at first.
Kept saying no, but they kept buying her drinks.
Eddie the bartender offered to take her home.
He was not even handsome.
Just a nice guy.
She did not like nice guys.
They were not dangerous enough.
Her daughters made it home in time
To get a phone call from their father.
Have you seen your mother?
No one ever saw her again.
...Even in our own subcultures
this pattern most people can see,
look at the endless dysfunction
that curses our inner cities.
A culture than has accepted
a lack of fathers in their lives,
a culture that thinks real success
is betrayal, they’re ‘acting white.’
With music that glamorizes
thugs who murder to get their dope,
is that the culture you’d embrace?
Is that what will give our kids hope?
Now if they have some good ideas
it is quite smart to learn from that,
but some stray ideas are much different
then embracing all that is bad.
You judge culture by its results,
the west brought freedom, prosperity,
so much that Asia imitates it,
and now grows more and more wealthy.
Why take after the dysfunction,
failed cultures make nothing of note,
some cultures are better than others,
and the west is better than most.
Let’s be real, it’s not even close.