Long Taper Poems
Long Taper Poems. Below are the most popular long Taper by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Taper poems by poem length and keyword.
There is still frost on the roof tops and I wonder about all the silver haired souls
that are wondering why they are being moved, by whitely dressed ghosts
I know its a comfort to know they got to be old but before they leave the coast,
I hope and pray they get to be surrounded by those who loved them the most;
Nurses and caretakers have been underpaid and over stretched in their vocation,
they are the ones who take care of our mothers and fathers , it is not a vacation.
Recall when you were a child, how precious you were to them and how they cared,
no one dared mistreat you in a spiteful way, for near your heroes they never dared.
What kind of protection can we offer our dying parents, from this virus hoobaloo ?
Show up at their windows, send them rainbows and flowers made of paper
bring food and masks and goofy made home made cards, until this comes to taper.
Remember the streaks of your mothers blond hair and the flour on the counter space
Remember the crease of your fathers laughter lines, how he loved you with such grace
The broken dolls of yesterday, are the soldiers and heroes who fight a new war today
in nursing homes and in solitary domes, houses unattended, they carry no ray...
So remember this, if you see frost on your roof top today and think of mom and dad,
think of all the good things they gave you, cuz if you dont', now that would be very sad.
Is life itself merely a matter of perspective?
Does cogitation dwarf the poet's reflexive?
If only my words could spread across the paper.
Build a punter world faded from a barren taper.
Has tied together details with his utterance.
This ringed world is bathed in such radiance.
There, as it blazed, the finest fury was sown.
The glories of lofty notions must be shown.
His clever mind shows words to shove.
The fading sun's beams, the genesis of love
Spur one's heart to beat with goodness.
The globe's first torn-and-wrung governess
Or daydreams when yield is in full flow.
The width of this real mental orbit grows.
the same as in this busy, boisterous space.
My mind rises, free of servitude in place.
It might happen with each passing year.
My name, my life, and my manner endear.
And amid the dust of a poet's silent rest,
Maintain contact with the wise and best!
Exert one obedient deed in one fading hour.
Or heal a fading face with a genuine flower.
My lines are fortunate despite a tight scope.
for their nimble date, on the apex and slope.
Still, this verse is my finest leisure option.
It follows a sly path across the attraction.
One time only, deny a brood urge to revive.
Chase only a sigh or lull a worry not alive.
From brick and frame to flowery blitheness.
Our walks have bred humility and forgiveness.
While conversing, I softly stroked your face.
He commands us to protect this holy place!
Written: February 04, 2023
You are the author of this book
The words, sentences, paragraphs, and chapters
Write well, and fear and procrastination do unhook
So this book, your book, can dwell hereafter
Write with intent and purpose
Make sure to use a good pen and paper
Remember to hone the body with an excursus
Make certain your print is emboldened with no taper
A masterpiece that is colorful, loving, bold, and clever
A true page flipper, a reader's delight
Like Hemingway, but your way, a New York Times bestseller
Write your book with veracity and with all your might
So write, and write very well, my lad
Tell your tale like Canterbury, as did Chaucer
Let your ink indelibly imprint the world pad
Go ahead and cast your best words because, in this book, you are the author
Picking apart meanings written
Seeking ways to fit in
A mosaic of song and show
It makes your skin glow
An angel in every breath
At every corner denying death
You held my eyes
But I'm haunted by past lies
Yell at me to leave it all behind
As if my heart's scars can be mended by rewind
You want to soothe and erase the past
The lights blind so fast
Meanings slowly taper
When written on sheets of paper
What arises will surely fall
I'm afraid to heed the call
Your heart is a tapestry of feelings
And past heartbreaks are like onion peelings
Revealing a deeper layer beneath
Love is truly all we have to bequeath
Our crow's love song
An effort to belong and be strong
A mosaic of song and show
Together we could truly grow
Maturity has no age lock
But our time together is on the clock
You held my eyes
And saw past my disguise
The crow feasting on my heart cries
That you're the harbinger of my demise
I'm out of pretty words to sing
Show me a crow's love song means something
Dear money, I never called you evil.
I watched others curse your name
as though you were a serpent in their garden,
whispering ruin into honest ears.
But I saw you differently.
I saw them - bills paid on time,
With groceries steadying our routines,
rent settled before the landlord’s knock.
I foresee dignity in our every step,
With possibilities standing ahead in our way,
A fragrant of hope unfolding quietly,
fulfilled by a settled wallet.
So I write with clarity my strict terms,
Be stripped off every greedy strand …
And never be as a god so I would worship,
but to welcome you with understanding.
Come to me, come - my dear friend -
Sit at my table without storming or boasting,
To become a virtuous tool in my hands,
Not slippery, nor with chain on my neck.
When you come be like rain in a dry season,
To linger, and let laughter fill empty rooms.
Come in measures that will not dwindle
at the sight of every waiting bill.
Then, this is why they called you evil:
You awaken something sharper than desire.
When abundance has driven out lacking,
When the cup once dry begins to overflow.
Oblivion creeps in, letting pride within,
I dare this: to restrain you even in plenty,
To taper your presence with generosity,
And guide you toward virtues - nothing more.
O’ moolah, I never named you evil -
It’s only that you reveal what’s already hidden in man.
But come, if you must, and grow if you will;
I seek your presence, not your throne.
Rights Reserved
Withstand the wrath of nature,
Weather the storm or typhoon;
After the rains of danger,
The bright sunlight will shine soon.
Keep your head above water,
Letting the craft of hope float;
The deluge will just taper,
The waves will not crush your boat.
Endure the pain, hurt, and ache
Deep inside your mind and heart;
There are chances you can take,
To make depression depart.
Step out off the verge or brink,
Keep away from the threshold;
Walk away from risky sink,
Fall not into grave so cold.
Avoid succumbing to woe,
Let not your true faith perish;
After the winds of breach blow,
The misery will vanish.
Form: Tanaga
“A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.” (John Keats)
************
Grammy’s hands were porcelain monuments,
each finger a taper of borrowed moonlight.
She posed them on plush velvet, her wrists arched,
for cameras that loved their silent eloquence~
a beautiful ballet of knuckles and patience,
selling rings, lotions, and the illusion of grace.
Decades of lemon baths, lotion, and almond oil,
nails cut and buffed to crescent moons, never chipped.
Her knuckles, delicate hinges, refused the
swell of arthritis—time’s gift of a life well spent.
Now her hands rest, folded like origami,
still flawless, still waiting for the lens to flicker.
A love letter, written with red ink
Bleeding crimson passion unto paper
My love for you, a buoy; it will never sink
There's no mistaking my intention, dear
My love for you, true; unequivocally clear
Passionate. Come what may, it will never taper
A heartfelt, amorous letter, written with red ink
Rhyming Poem on Love- New or Old
Sponsored by: Lu Loo (Winner: 6th Place)
Date written and posted:08/15/2018
Rhyme Time 6 - Verses of Metaphors Poetry Contest/Winner(1st Place)
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
Theme: Red Ink
Rhyme Scheme: A-B-A-C-C-B-A
Date written and posted:08/15/2018
I watched in awe as he sailed them aloft.
When they crash landed, I never scoffed
nor did I laugh when they hit the ceilings
for that would've hurt the pilot's feelings.
Stacks of paper were a staple at our home.
Not far from my brother's side did I roam.
Just two years older, but I worshipped him
Sometimes a plane's body, he'd let me trim.
How patient he was to teach me things
about throwing planes and adjusting wings.
So many hours I spent watching him fold,
and telling me, "I'll do this when I'm old."
He gave in when I asked if I could color one,
he rolled his eyes but when it was done
he let me do another, and when I chose pink
he made a silly face, then gave me a wink.
Those childhood games in my memory remains
though I was awful at launching paper planes.
Not for very long were they gracefully air born,
but brother never complained, nor did he scorn.
He told me so often, "It's in the flick of your wrist."
Mine did nose dives, spinning with a tornadic twist.
I tried to relaunch the bent ones to save on paper,
but couldn't master the art of folding the right taper.
I'd ask, "Where are you flying your plane today?"
He would always say, "Somewhere very far away."
I wonder if paper airplanes are still being made.
May the joy of making this simple toy never fade.
August 27, 2022
Paper Airplanes Contest
Sponsored by Jim Lawless
Looking with hearts eyes we'll find
It doesn't take much to be kind
You don't need powers or capes
Helping a stranger escape
The torment their life is bringing
Or the pain that might be lingering
All around their hearts each day
There is such a brilliant way
To ease the troubles that they see
Making tears of misery
Fall each time new days begin
They just want to finally win
Living free from misery
A simple request to be
Made true if we all just
Give a little friendly trust
That everything will be alright
Letting them know a light
Of kindness can lead them past
All the hurt--it will not last
You never know how one small act
Can make the biggest huge impact
On someone who's really down
Their life can be turned around
If we all take one small minute
To release love--try to spin it
Towards others who need a lift
It would be the greatest gift
No money or wrapping paper
To do something good and taper
The wrong in the world and see
The caring humanity
Flowing and seeping into
Others who are sad and blue