Long Thrusting Poems
Long Thrusting Poems. Below are the most popular long Thrusting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Thrusting poems by poem length and keyword.
A man reached me at the market that day.
He lifted two handcrafted seats on his head.
He urged, "Won't you buy my chairs?" Today.
Nobody took my chairs. All moved instead.
I recall helping others with daily duties in life.
If you find a poor partner, avail him in strife.
None are so flush that they might not borrow.
The fate of the poor may be our lot tomorrow.
Look, these are the best things I have made.
Please buy my seats. I slum my children frayed.
He seems gloomy. This person is my age.
Words nag me. I gave him cash and change.
I echo helping others, even when being mean.
Do not judge your pal's deep suspicions, lean.
No fine, people can avoid shame or misery.
Lift others in the race for a swathe of glittery.
I replied, "I need one seat, but sell the rest."
Kids are waiting, and I wish you all the best.
Thrusting his hands to pray, I was unready.
For me, it was an incomer with tears already.
I never lost the venting of the chair salesman.
It may not be a lot to exalt others when we can.
If it turns on a brother, do not let envy ruin it.
We pray for each other's rightness, joy, and grit.
Written: November 28, 2022
"I must have flowers, always, always ..."
-Monet-
________________________
mother taught me about gardens ...
all winter she would ponder ... and make plans
selecting flowers by texture and shape
in a tapestry of colors
like bright sun jewels
and on planting "day" I wore an aquamarine sundress ...
~ we needed hardy flowers
for our changeable climate
and mother taught me to use color artfully ~
but no matter what we did ... by mid summer
the garden was a wild mosaic tangle
of tangerine nasturtium and lemon marigold
along with lilac forget-me-nots
and a mix of lavender and crimson snapdragons
we had lost all control ...
~ oh, we had painted daisies in saffron
and watermelon pink
and trusting coneflowers in all hues ~
now, my garden is much smaller
yet, I still have a vibrant array of flowers
a display of changing colors all summer long
thrusting, cascading, and tumbling
I have climbing wallflowers in chartreuse
every view is painted ... in hues
like watercolors saturated with sun
oh, I love the coral bells ... cascading from baskets
~ let there be color and there is ... like magic
... colorful flowers dance in the breeze ~
_______________________
March 10, 2022 (Repost)
Poetry/Free Verse/watercolor garden
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1437-760-10
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, Garden Inspirations (New/Old)
sponsor, BJ Legro Kelley, Judged 04/20/2022
Second Place
Moving on, but I can not
Can't help looking back
Retrospective Oscillations
Nostalgic past reflections
Creating a sweet sour affections
Longings on empty mosaics
With indescribable scenarios
Lost in a mental haze of illusion
Nostalgia on past reflections
Bubble gum and candy wraps
Long forgotten comes to fore
Childhood memories loading
I am lost in a daze of plays flooring
Hide and seek; bang, bang you are
dead
Such nonsense they seem now
But then a real deal by your homies
Nostalgic indulgence of the past a
reflections
Childhood memories at a glimpse
Pranks on the run a cul-de-sac
Summer rains in winter, autumn is
bemused
Spring cannot spare it's blushes
A reflection from the blues
Moving on, but I cannot
Like a blast from the far past
Faces long gone stare at me
So real, scenes of yesteryears
I have to move on from the the
captivity of the past.
The arms of the future awaits me
Lovingly thrusting in it's trusts.
(Written 6th May, 2015)
Movie seen
Driving home
Newly found couple
To be alone
River bank parked
Dead of night
His golden blond
Beautiful sight
Their lips meet
Hands wander
Imagination flow
Hearts ponder
To be comfortable
Seats are changed
Buttons loose
Clothes rearranged
Passion starts
Hands walk free
Skin explored
Of he and she
Naked souls
Join as one
Heavens merge
Joys begun
With her thrusting hips
In vice like grip
Her loving want
In her he slips
In passion applause
His lava flows
Her warm insides
Outer body glows
Sweet sweetened mix
Perfumed skin
Warm with-drawl
Potions swim
Kisses in clench
Tenderness
This loving two
Soft caress
Sexed and fed
They head of home
Wondering about
Their next love roam
*Note: This is a tale of honor in which the protagonist refused to tell his lady a truth which would have broken her heart, so instead he allows her to believe a lie, although it cost him her love.
Your tears stream salt into my open wounds
Equitable punishment for a scathing tongue
When deceptive words spilled from its fork,
my palate tasted morsels of amarum gall
Mea culpa Mea culpa
What penance do you deem to be delivered
for chafing injury upon your virtuous heart?
I have perjured myself with loathsome deceit
Condemned a liar, in weeping from your eyes
Deprive me of your kiss, as rain denies a flower
and I will crave death in a cold grave of darkness
Parce mihi, amica mea ~ forgive me, my love
The moment of reckoning weighs upon my brow
Mea culpa Mea culpa
To defend your innocence, I have readily sinned
For if truth I had told, it would've been a sword
and my hand, the one thrusting it into your heart
My life was loyally given; well worth one dulcis lie
Latin translations:
amarum ~ bitter dulcis ~ sweet
As crotches go, mine is up there with the best
I would even classify it as exceptional
One would think it all comes down to size
But size is only part of the equation
Of course size is a very major consideration
But as important is it's appearance of strength
I think you know what I'm getting at
The forward thrusting motion is a major factor
In fact, probably if I had to decide
THE most important attribute is a strong forward thrust
And equally important is the quick recoil
In fact, I have just published a book on the subject
It's called, “Your Crotch And You”
An in-depth study to help you to understand
This most precious part of your anatomy
For only $19.99 U.S. including shipping
This important self-help book can be yours
We don't offer a money back guarantee
But will come to your home if you provide travel expenses
To answer any questions you might have
And also assist you physically if that is required
It is a limited time offer so DON'T DELAY!
Dedicated to my dear cyber sister, Jan
© Jack Ellison 2014
*Vaaz= vase
You offered roses delivered thorns, blood drips and your body adorns ~
Slumped, soaked in crimson your heart forever mine, retribution has come, my bloody valentine—by Poet
Once upon a time lived Angel, an androgynous white knight
Diamonds in rings and pearls on strings, he’d often gift
The reddest of roses, bluest of violets, specifics delight
Yet cataclysmic are the blackened roots adrift
Blessed was I with a sultry kiss, my affection’s launched
Hijacked my love from the marrow of my bones
I blessed him with carte blanche
Mistaken for a gewgaw of wonton love on loan
Thrusting winds levitate revealing regret
The myriads of flowers in the vaaz, what cause?
This bleeding heart gushes the blood of violet blue scarlet
Prickly are the iron thorns between splayed fingers
Bittersweets, the Londor truffles
Cheating are the charred stars above, darkness lingers
Ionized is the taste of tears in wine, how it ruffles
like nails scratch it burns inside, nothing can suture
The arrow churns a void through the breast
Unbeknownst to me my future
To avoid loneliness and unrest
Kingdom of crushes what judgement have I begotten?
I curse the love blind night we met
As a forbidden love and now forgotten
My black knight you are Keats Bright Star
A sacrifice of Anayalation
Another scab, another scar
A token of my affection
mother taught me about gardens ...
all winter she would ponder ... and make plans
selecting flowers by texture and shape
in a tapestry of colors
like bright sun jewels
and on planting "day" I wore an aquamarine sundress ...
~ we needed hardy flowers
for our changeable climate
and mother taught me to use color artfully ~
but no matter what we did ... by mid summer
the garden was a wild mosaic tangle
of tangerine nasturtium and lemon marigold
along with lilac forget-me-nots
and a mix of lavender and crimson snapdragons
we had lost all control ...
~ oh, we had painted daisies in saffron
and watermelon pink
and trusting coneflowers in all hues ~
now, my garden is much smaller
yet I still have a vibrant array of flowers
a display of changing colors all summer long
thrusting, cascading, and tumbling
I have climbing wallflowers in chartreuse
every view is painted ... in hues
like watercolors saturated with sun
oh, I love the coral bells ... cascading from baskets
~ let there be color and there is ... like magic
... colorful flowers dance in the breeze
____________________
April 5, 2021
Poetry/Free Verse/let there be color
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1344-147-05
All rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest Changing Colors
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 04/19/2021
First Place
They were one pulsar away
From obliterating all of humanity.
I had eight armed and activated lasers
Attached to my cobalt helmet,
Augmented as it was,
With enough meta-metal
To take me and the FHN
Into a Super Worm
(What we now call worm-holes
Light-years in distance.)
The AI unicorns flapped their metallic wings
Through the non-air of space,
Zip-zapping their own laser cannoned cones
Towards the Floating Human Nursery,
The last of humanity.
I loaded my one and only
Particle Incinerator
Into the back of my helmet,
Jet-thrusting into position
So to spray the evil unicorn robots
With enough sub-atomic destruction
to send them to Kingdom Come.
I pressed the button
Inside my helmet.
(Nothing.)
Damn technology.
Plan B:
I activated the karaoke mic
On my side holster,
Breaking straight into, "O Holy Night..."
Thank God for the unicorn's emotion chip.
They all hovered languidly about
In their deeply moved throng
Crying unicorn robot tears,
Buying me just enough time to route
The floating orb of baby humans behind me
Into a far-off universe
Where they'd have a fighting chance
For survival.
Once my song was sung
And the moment fell away,
Each robot unicorn, in perfect unison,
Tilted their cones to my direction,
and pulverized me.
Only my ghost is left now
To endlessly retell this space tale,
As I float through the distant nebulae
Forevermore.
After raking hours of 24/7 toil
this brain wants to spin with ole jazz’s request…
14th Road at 8 pm sprays lint upon feet
much too slow for a jig of a night dance.
Somehow, the breeze leaps to resurrect
my wired head, as the gravel hiss of the sax
purrs and pulsates, allowing spicy vapor
to restore the rhythm's passion
and slice of gaiety in unbridled recklessness;
thrusting upon nerve endings for an evening
of choral notes bursting with alchemy.
Dazzling to the beat in steel of moonlight,
each velvet croon tastes a Coltrane groove
as swaying hips bob to the pulse of sweet chaos.
I hit the floor barefoot
with raked notes climbing into my belly
in the heat of brass pitch…
after work, the smoky timbre rolls on and on
as waxed pipe of rocking blues floats,
drenched with raw inspiration!
Inspiration Contest
Sponsor:Nayda Negron