Long Three d Poems
Long Three d Poems. Below are the most popular long Three d by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Three d poems by poem length and keyword.
There's a little town in Ouyen Vic.'' Under 1200 people so
I'll tell you bout aspects; of it sort'a quick!
There's Clarys slate bush etching, in three d real fine.!
And a little hairdressers that comes to mind.?
The conveniance store.' And theres some more.!
Like the old English banknotes found under
Its timber hall floor.' Also Kingdon chickens thats out a bit'
Where I worked a time 'come to think of it?' There
Was that pet Emu..Dang! I've forgot its name?
It would steal your food, just take it plain.' Away
From your hand, on the way to your mouth!!
Maybe thats the reason i left the South? I reckon
I'll get back there one of these days..And lay a
A fresh sandwich upon that old birds grave.!
Am I early?
Curly whirly Sue...
Created me and
The Redhead too.
Sunshine the line,
Her fingers typed,
EnterWine d eLight.
Return to fLight.
On the Right Time.
Founded.The Kind Time.
Love on.Time.
!Sound.
~Demeter~
".....Demeter is easily confused with Gaia or Rhea, and with Cybele. The goddess's
epithets reveal the span of her functions in Greek life. Demeter and Kore ("the maiden")
are usually invoked as to theO ('"The Two Goddesses"),..."
G.oodeeS GoodSea
a.s what it can be!
m.atter. only
e.ver changes....
[email protected]
W.hirly bird...
E.arly birdy...
L.ittle BaTMitten.Kitten?
C.atches the worm... but she never ate it.
O.phi, you see, said wait til Three.
M.erry, this Maiden...
e.nergized.... ;)
Like in a code of MorshMores...
~DeMeter is THREE.d;
Smart.Cookie...
CoCao.latte
Gratitude, the Attitude, for Healing our Waters. Inner, Earthly too.
Form:
Dimensions we can see,
Two-D, three-D imagery.
Dimensions we can feel.
Is love a line, or space, or real?
Slow movements in our minds,
Seeing spaces light can’t find.
Like dreams that feel so true,
Why can’t we live in space where we are free too?
Where light and music calm our souls,
Where silent darkness lets the mind grow whole.
To feel what it’s like to simply be,
A journey through our history.
Flavours, smells, and sights of where we’ve been,
Though no memory can be found or seen.
Yet in the heart we know the truth:
The space we fill remains as proof.
When flesh and bone return to dust,
Something remains of us—
Something we set free
To live in space eternally.
Three D people no longer hold my loyalties
I am a troll, spending up to six hours a day
Okay, make it ten
on computer sites, with my new family
Get your own dinner, I holler to my children
They rummage in my purse getting money
Whatever
I am farming; it takes hours and hours
My crops are overdue
Can you please pay attention to me? Someone whines.
It is my husband.
He is a professional whiner
If he got paid for it, we would be billionaires.
I begin to play my word games
Because my new family is sending me messages
Make your move!
Or a yawning emoji
Going to bed is easier now.
I take my electronics with me
Eventually falling asleep
sometime between midnight and morning
There is two –D, three-D, and Mile Johnston-D.
In grays and with fortitude he shows a truth
Not seen in other paintings
He strips away sadness,
Presents faces taken apart, or quadruplicated
There is an unexpected component in his art
That rivals Dali’s, but in gray tone, not color.
Nurtured and excited, I study his drawings
There is a hollowness that somehow completes them
Makes them more real than other drawings
His chronic faces, ability to strip the mask off,
Or change the body into a triplicated or quadruplicated vessel
Amazes and astounds me
One thing for sure, there is a haunting to his art.
A longing, a keening, and once you have seen his creations
You can never again see another one without knowing it
Belongs to the brilliant Miles Johnston.
Poker Sketch “The Brotherhood of Eternal Love”
What did we contemplate;
while at the fire-front, sooted:
Hot faced, In three D:
In those long minutes, of pleasant ;
extended hours of misguided endless,
diluted from an unseen “two named” hourglass !
Dripping; its sandy content.
It the darkness ; crept, It
sat behind our thin shoulders:
And hair strewn thinnish necks:
Levi collared rough stitched !
Thread bare to time. What ? did we consider ;
Pushing that heavy poker;
cold brassed, not utilised ever by Leonardo !
Sketching dreams, in the long cold ashes;
While Peters, "Supernatural"
soothed our innocently: dirty minds and egos.
It had no identity name ! Just night;
It may have been Winter outside
as coals spit, and sparks spat,
bare wrists sting ! But ; you continue the ash sketch.
What did we concoct ?
Wild ! in that balmy warmth
picking apart bristles: Stretching upward,
Glancing a fleeting glimpse,
at the tick tocked face, with muted bell,
its loose hands skipped,
falling quickly too six.
It didn't matter;
Warming the poker, Maybe !
To brand, the early hours,
making all of those hours ours,
proven marks; proof,
vainly legal, safe from
inquisitors, and hungry dogs.
What did we digest ?
Through these nights of -
“The Brotherhood of Eternal Love"
until ; that creeping dawn,
broke the Witches spell while along we rode
In those ashes of dreams forbidden
and coldly stagnant: Our days closed.
The Pin
There is a pretty lady,
She comes to church on Sunday.
I see her every week.
She is beautiful.
Not speaking of how old or young,
not saying anything…
I am reflecting on the sweetness of life.
She wears a pin on her blouse
It is a tiny treasure.
Sometimes it is a flower, a bird,
a picture, a motif in three “D”. (3D)
A story, with colors and reflections,
shades of everyday, a mirror of life…
turned to daydream(s) in the hands
of artisans.
She is an angel lady, because of the way she smiles.
I have never seen her sad, and I know that is not possible.
It gives me hope and cheers my days,
In ways she will never know…
That makes God smile!
Color delights me, instantly glorifies joy and hope.
If I like it. I change my office at work when I get bored with it.
I am a giant kid.
And I know the kids that come in like new stuff too.
It also reminds me to give everyone a fresh start every single day.
Not easy, but it is a good reminder this is what I am striving to do.
I used to change out a giant bulletin board outside my office monthly. I made three D trees, unicorns, mermaids.I spent hours before and after school building it. The after school ladies kept saying how much they looked forward to it. I loved that!
For one hundred and eight months, it was my bulletin board. A new principal assigned my bulletin board to someone else her first month with us.
It was a black board with no border for the entire year, nothing on it until March when it had a small poster stapled in the middle of it.
People were confused. What happened? Why had I let this happen?
I told them. None were surprised. The after school ladies and I were the
First ones to beg to be at other schools at the end of that year.
A boss with no color is no boss for us.
Imagine for one moment, one misty mystic moment,
how best to use those golden float seconds,
moments, hours, we as mortal creatures
abnormally fritter into some quaint spurious
void known as passage.
Time's colossal collateral bequeathed unbeknownst
to each and everyone of us earthlings
that slips through a porous filter into
endless futile vapour trails, absent-minded ventures,
and vapid finger gazing.
However, sweeping statements aren’t and
never will be that sermonising torch I
brandish in broad daylight.
Such a pointless pose, a consummate dismissal
leads to skewed off-course compass points.
An aimless drift on anybody’s part beyond
the versicolour dawn, nascent noonday nugget,
rich resplendence of a sapphire twilight
should not be met with brusque distain.
A subtle pointer deftly spun seems
more than ample whenever hidebound aspect lurks.
Day and night should be immersive in their
ambience, without interlude or vacuous intrusion.
A galaxy of Three D screen epics await tellurians
divorced from deep fulfilment.
They, as spellbound junket, are poised around
each bend for instant capture, to seize and duly savour.
Why not revel in each in the moment wonderland,
that dazzling enchantment, ushered by each stroke of the resonant clock?