Long Touch on Poems
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(In a 19th-century legal judgment studied by all who
learn the English common law, Sturges v. Bridgeman,
the court found in favour of a "nice" doctor over a
"common" manufacturer, for reasons of pure snobbery.)
The Candyman Can’t
Some legal battles have the power to thrill,
while others never have, and never will.
Some touch on human themes which really matter,
and some do not. We’re dealing with the latter.
This present case is hardly OJ Simpson:
it lacks dramatic shape, and simply limps on
listlessly, with abstruse reasoning,
no sex or violence to give it seasoning.
One Mister Bridgman manufactures sweets,
in premises where Wigmore crosses/meets
its neighbour, Wimpole. Eighteen seventy-nine
of our salvation, two lives intertwine
when Doctor Sturges takes consulting rooms
around the corner. Disagreement looms,
for Bridgman’s grinding, pounding candy line’s
destroying Sturges’ peace, fragging his mind.
The law of nuisance really is quite funny.
It says, “he did you harm? Well, here’s some money”.
What if you’d rather dodge the damage, and
defer the dollars? How to countermand
the duty-breach-then-damages regime?
Suppose we interpose a better scheme?
Instead of “you must suffer, he must pay”,
we stop the harm? The problem goes away!
This ruse is known as “equity”. It functions
by granting prior relief (they’re called injunctions).
So Sturges stemmed stentorian sweetie sounds
by order of the court, and Bridgman found
his business gagged and bound by hoops of steel,
for no good reason. What to do? Appeal!
(For thus advise the lawyers. Such affairs
drag on for years. The lawyers? They get theirs!)
Said Bridgman: “I’ve been cranking out jujubes
for decades now. It’s all gone down the tubes
because some quack dislikes the earnest hum
of my devices. Why, then, did he come
to Wimpole Street? He wants tranquility?
Go hang his shingle in Highgate Cemetery!
I have a remedy for Doctor Sturges:
it’s swallowing his antimony purges!”
But Bridgman lost. One cannot help but feel
that making toffee wasn’t quite genteel
enough. Their Lordships said behaviour
that’s unacceptable around Belgravia
can find a home in Bermondsey. The latter
has lots of lowly types. It doesn’t matter
if they have noisome noise, and have to live
in filthy fumes – for they’re not sensitive.
Note: This is not my kids. This is dedicated to a......friend
Now my children time has come for me to talk to you.
I've let you make your choices in what you wear and do.
But this has gone way to far and way to fast.
So let me touch on some points that had better not last.
Daughter, with multi rings on your fingers and 2 on your toes.
I know sooner or later they'll be one through your nose.
Then do you know what will happen next time you sneeze?
You'll be shootin' big 'ol snot globs out that hole at me.
That tattoo that you've got on your big left breast
You think it's sexy now, but let me tell you what to expect.
Right now it's up there sitting pretty as you can see.
But when you reach the age of 60, where do you think it will be?
Son that tongue stud that your sporting doesn't look to sweet.
I'm waiting for you to swallow it, the next time you eat.
You swear it is in there tightly and you have no fear.
But when you tried to demonstrate you choked on it my dear.
Daughter, that eyebrow bar is just the ugliest thing you've done.
It looks like you had an accident with a pneumatic staple gun.
Oh!, and lets not forget that sexy belly button ring.
When you get old and forgetful, you can hang you keys from that thing.
Son? Just what were you thinking when you picked out your new tat?
Homer Simpson eating a donut? Couldn't you find something other than that?
And to have it proudly spread out on your behind
says you'll never have a girlfriend, unless she is blind.
Then there is the subject of the ear plugs in your lobes.
Just how big do you intend to let those puppies go?
They're going to hang down like some ear handle
Folks will think I dropped you twice. Oh god, They're going to dangle.
Daughter those clothes your wearing don't make you a looker.
I won't pay the bail when you are mistaken for a hooker.
Son, you'd better be pullin' up your pants, you hear?
No one wants to see you walk like you've a load in there.
Last and certainly not the least, your choice of hair salons.
I never thought I'd see the day my daughter and my son
Both with rainbow spiked hair, it all just says so much
It says "Please don't hire me because I'm a big butt munch
Many years ago, I’d been seeing
My whole life in front of me.
Like a tale, I could tell how it’d end,
By simply looking at how it begins.
Thinking I’d been born this way,
Without any luck.
With no other options,
Neither freedom, nor choice
to change anything
from which has already been written
in the past.
In fact, it’s nothing more
than a bird’s cage for me,
& even worse than the darkest dungeon,
Which has been keeping me locked up
All alone inside, for so long.
Till I realized I’ve been yearning
Something deep down from within
Which I myself, couldn’t even comprehend...
At the very core of my solitary soul
There was a space of emptiness
Seemed like a missing piece
of a jigsaw puzzle..
And like a pile of love letters
from a long lost lover,
it's been left unread
At the darkest corner of my soul!
Was it about my long forgotten dreams?
Or perhaps the things I’ve wished I had
But never had the chance to become my own?
What could it be?
It’s the greatest mystery I’ve been keeping in my heart, for so long..
I thought it’s just a myth
In my own wishful thinking!
Too good to be true or to be mine.
Therefore, should be kept ignored
Like those unread letters ,
from a long lost lover.
Or as an old file of forgotten
impossible dreams!
That should be left untouched
Until the very end!
One lucky day, I stumbled upon a special mirror!
So different from the one
I used to see in front of me!
Just a simple touch on it
with my fingertips
I was promised of the possibility
To live happily & free!
At first, I thought, it’s nothing
but reflection of my own self alone
But then, I’ve realized it’s beyond
What I have ever seen before!
My lonely face, which for so long
has never known how to smile again,
Had finally been smiling
In front of it for almost all day long.
Till many long days
of waiting & staring at it faithfully
I was at last! able to see clearly
behind its mystery!
Real connection I had
With the image inside,
It finally revealed the truth
Right before my very eyes!
The image of the one I see
in front of me, Is no one else ..
But the loveliest image
of the OTHER HALF of me!
The dawn is yet to be seen, yet I am here with coffee in hand, drinking my fill from the early riser’s mood. There is darkness still embracing the clear sky and stars wink down, glimmering and flashing, creating a lively sparkle across the heavens. I hear the silence through the solitude, echoing a rhythmic breath of inspiration on halos of laughter that caresses the ever after. I long to whisper joy through the night, hurling music through the dim dreams that reverberate across space, creating a melodious wave of exhilaration through the ambiance of feathery impressions lifting the tone to a tenderness that feeds my yearnings with healing, hope, happiness that flows through me, purifying my insights and coloring me in hues of brilliant flames.
~
morning simplifies
sorrow changes to laughter
healing hearts with hope
~
Prayers of praise lift to the heavens, breaking through the thick night that covers the morning in a layer of gray. Starlight is soft and details of a full moon stroke the black coat of heavy air as it lays quietly across the sky, washing everything it touches in a coat of shadowy darkness that reaches through the heart’s longings to touch on the insights that prepare one for hearing God’s voice as it sends out its still small whisper to the listener. I turn my attention to the heavens, listening and hearing the intimate stroke that comes down and caresses me with a gentle hand, one that knows my ups and downs, my ins and outs, my entire being… laid open, naked to the gaze of One who knows me better than I can even know myself. He smiles a warmth through me that gives me a second chance to be assured that I have all I need. My prayer for this moment has been answered with a kiss from the One who blesses me more than I can possibly thank Him for and I know I am loved beyond my own imagination or hopes. I am loved.
~
worship warms my breath
a whisper, just before dawn
quenching dismal doubts
Moments Of Reflections - Haibun Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Malabika Ray Choudhury
March 26, 2021
Seems I’ve reminisced
The feel
Of a home cooked meal
Ducking the pleasures
Of a sainted veil
A clause in the end
From which finer things appeal
Black jack matches not
To a fisher mans luck
On an antique reel
But on the real
The expectations in this life
Remain a comfort
That refuses to chill
Let your thoughts rest
On an old lads chest
Considering the circumstances
If we make it
We can all attest
And adore this political mess
If not then as victims of stress
Unblessed in this planet
Of slanted chess
We’ll confess
Another night
Another days passes
Do you find it lovely
How nothing ever last
But many men have cured
Their fascination
Of becoming non minute men
Flawed by incarceration
Deep within the dungeons
Of a softer conscience
In irregular form
A veteran lies victim
Of defeated white blood cells
Unresponsive
A child with no home
And swollen tonsils
The dark settles
Flashbacks meddle
Trouble around the corner
As a lunch line unveils
Never was a fighter
Just a swinger
As I found myself catapulted against
The cafeteria wall
The integrity
My sucker punch instilled
Broken glass jaws
Over a 4th grade meal
Or mainly just an individual
Twice the size of me
With an inability to feel
I sat still
As the principal sought
A stern punishment
Not as astonished with
The other kids compliments
For my stomach ache
From a lack of warm condiments
Moral of the story is
I was fighting then
I’m still fighting now
Obstacles tend to ware me down
The inexperience of my peers
Seem to no longer enlighten me now
Have to find new ways to learn
Or disappear into the unclear
Fatigued as a writer
Tend to want to touch on subjects
Closer to lighter
Symptoms of a September baby
A Virgo born of a harlot
With nine children unknown
A none buffalo soldier
A phantom on a Harley
The ghost of Robert Marley
An astronaut in my younger years
Screaming for Apollo thirteen
As the thunder neared
Off my coarse of inspiration
I veered
Donned my shroud for work that night,
at the amusement park in the haunted house
to thrill some kids; give 'em a fright
just me alone I ran the place.
For safety's sake I kept close check
on who went in and who came out.
Unwise it is, as you can see
to have someone prowling about.
The night was slow which suited me
I liked to stroll the halls inside
When time allowed and I was free,
I walked each hall and chamber.
I closed the door and locked the gate
to check the space for wayward strays.
Each room was clear as I went through
no urn was moved, everything in place
Upon the balcony I paused,
when footsteps came from out the dark.
A shiver down my spine they caused
No soul should be inside with me
I turned to look toward the sound I heard
and out of the dark, what did I see?
All dressed in black of finest lace
a beautiful women stood staring at me
The clock on the wall chimed twelve midnight.
It was always twelve in the haunted house.
I checked my watch; what ironic sight,
for twelve it was, in reality.
In my mind I wanted to flee,
but feeling a gentle touch on my sleeve
her icy yet delicate fingers, nearer, drew me
and my heart would simply not let me leave.
A single tear rolled slow down her cheek
as her cold creamy lips pressed soft against mine.
Then turning away from the kiss she did seek,
as a smile crossed her lips, I saw her tear dry.
Before I could think the shadows concealed her
and left me alone on the dark balcony.
I came to my senses and started to search.
I looked in every nook and cranny.
Not a trace did I find of this beautiful vision,
though I searched through the night with fervent zeal,
I made up my mind and came to a decision
not to share this tale, to avoid the derision.
I have broken that vow for only one reason
to warn you, be careful of places like this.
For sure you'll be left with a fear of the night
and, perhaps, the memory...
... of a dark beautiful kiss.
10/09/15
I imagine myself
with my head on the table,
looking within you,
breathing you in,
with me conveying all that I want to say,
and get some answers.
We talk.
About the mundane things and the important things
Can we touch on everything and nothing,
about feeling and thinking,
with Japanese food eavesdropping?
Can't we go back to how things were,
be friends again and put the pieces back,
just try?
The end picture might look a bit askew,
but for me it's worth trying...
We laugh.
And I want to cry again right now,
for what was lost and messed up,
and because I miss you So much
I miss the sound of my own laughter,
I miss that happiness in my eyes.
They somehow went meandering
to that place called Regret Ave., cor. What-If/When St.
and still haven't found their way back to me.
They seem to be enjoying themselves there,
finding it more fun than being with me...
goes to show what good company I am these days.
They like it there because maybe reality is there,
and as for me, I never even realized
that I have wandered into
the Illusion of Nada
Where what I thought, where what I felt
was all an illusion
Or was it?
So does that negate all my wallowings?
I don't know anymore...
It felt real though. Still feels real.
But somehow, the silence that I have been meeting
has made me think, made me feel
that it was all nothing.
Somebody easily overlooked and forgettable.
An imaginary speck that made you blink for that time.
Seeing spots that made you crazy.
I can't say the same for me, though.
You are precious, far too real and unforgettable,
and I'm just here. Thankful for you, for everything
And me...
I just close my eyes, since the sadness
that can be seen there is far too real.
It's not an illusion,
because others have been seeing it,
unlike you.
And I don't want them to know why.
I am still at that table though,
fool that I am.
Waiting for laughter to return.
Chopsticks in hand,
I pick another piece of futomaki,
put a dollop of wasabi,
and close my eyes.
Based on a true incident-
In an atmosphere when every one is worried and busy in solving its own problems, this poem would give you some moments of relief to enjoy the beauty of Nature, With best wishes to all my PS friends......Ravindra K Kapoor
Beauty of Acacia tree in black cloudy night - 1
.
I was overwhelmed by seeing
the beauty of Babool* acacia flowers,
In this rainy season only,
It was a thick cloudy evening -
When the dark clouds of the sky were not allowing
the soft medium light of stars
to fall on Earth,
.
The cool breeze was blowing
With its soothing spray of small mini drops of rains,
It was creating a magical pleasant feeling and
a loving touch on me.
When I came out of the house alone, as usual,
For my daily evening walk. 01
.
When I passed by those acacia trees queues
on the side of the footpath,
On that deserted road,
Where I go for my walks everyday,
I suddenly stopped,
After noticing and watching,
The lamppost’s light falling
On that acacia tree,
In the dark of that rainy night.
.
And in that lamppost's light,
The beautiful yellow flowers of Babool (acacia tree)
Were smiling with an amazing beauty,
I was suddenly stunned,
To watch that beauty. 02
.
The tree of acacia is a tree
from which people often
Keep a distance,
because of its sharp thorns and
even fear to go near it.
.
I was standing almost touching its thorns
close to it,
Charmed by its magical beauty.
To catch some of it's images,
Of those vibrant beautiful flowers. 03
Ravindra K Kapoor
20th Aug.2020 .................... to be concluded in next
Photo of theacacia tree flowers can be seen on the following URL of my face book page and time line
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=3373893705994587&set=pcb.3373925362658088&type=3&theater
NOTE: * Babool or acacia tree is found in large numbers in India in those areas mainly, where the water level has gone down deep. I am currently in New Raipur of Chattisgarh.
‘ Legendary … ’ ( Part 1 (of) 4 )
Step with me into History
Step with me, to ‘Days of Yore’ Pageantry
Let Time and Mind, March Back Momentarily
Let Mist and Musings … Merge in Front of Thee …
… On Mare, or Mighty-Destrier … Ride Along with Me
In Rich-Carriage, or Hay Wagon … Come Along with Me
Thru The Forests … See The Hunters, Plying Falconry
Thru The Elms, See Caravan … of A Girl-Gypsy
Over Sunny Knoll, and Shady Dale … Onward We Journey
By, Merchant-Trade, Lo’!... We Made – A Medieval City !
… Now, Hear Drummers, Beat Cadence … Dramatically
Hark, The Trumpets, Blare Forth, Thunderously
… Hear A Herald Invite: “ Hear Ye’ - All Heraldry “
Come to The Ball; Lyre and Mandolin Pluck Persuasively
a Lone Flute, Floats a Tune … so Melodiously
Perchance … Join The Dance and Step Accordingly
Twirl and Whirl, Do A Bassa’ … then Bow and Curtsy
Forsooth, from the word ‘Court’, comes such ‘Courtesy’
And Tis’ Adamant, for Manners, Donned in Such Finery
Swirling in Silk Gowns, Vests and Veils with Embroidery
… Gemmed-Cloaks, Headdress and Hose, Bedecked in Luxury
bearing Crested-Medallions and Daggers: There is no Subtlety
amid Scented Candles, Flowered Columns and Alcove Settees
and Banquets, where Sweetmeats and Puddings were made Ready
… also Victuals of Venison, Fruits, Cheese, Wine and Meade Aplenty
for The Wayfarer and Time-Traveler, who Ventures Back With Me …
And Now … may Troubadour … Spin A Tale, So Precisely
Aye … May Bard, Weave Thee Well, into This Tapestry …
Chorus:
Sweet Wine On My Lips … Drip In Ecstasy
Sweet Touch On My Hips … Smooth as Warm Honey
Sweet Love of My Soul … Last An Eternity
Sweetheart, Be Thou Bold … In Bravery …
… and if Sweet Talk, Be A Token … and Language Be Spoken …
… Be Legendary … Be Thou Legendary
( Part 1 (of) 4 )
No surprise I've been cast the role as the villain, the one they place all the blame
I just want to fast forward through this horror, I want out of this sick twisted game
God gives the toughest battles to his strongest, at least that's how the saying goes
How many blows until they push me to finally jump, until I welcome what waits me below
The grief felt before doesn't begin to touch on what consumes me now, no words to describe it's depth
Not even the vast oceans compare to the endless hours of tears these eyes have wept
I sit back powerless, watching it all unfold, the masks go on the second the curtains are drawn
A facade beautifully mesmerizing, at any cost the show must go on
A grandeur appearance for all the world to see, the public's approval fuels the fire to continue their front
There is no tale spun from their mouths that doesn't end with a round of applause that loudly erupts
A pat on the back, a job well done, five star reviews, they are the saviors of the day
Only a matter of time until the illusion shatters, unmasking the evil who made the innocent pay
More important to prove a point, a statement claiming the villains acts just can't be forgiven
False pretenses revealing one lie turned into two, then a whole book about the junkie whose mindset is unsound was written
A prologue to follow, chapters written of loss and heartbreak they prayed I wouldn't survive
The story of a woman who they tried so hard to break, by taking the only thing that brought meaning to her life
Each morning I open my eyes, the memories rushing back I can't seem to breathe
Each night I pray myself into exhaustion, ask for guidance and patience until the truth is finally seen
Continuing on I wonder through this life so detached, so lost, everything fallen apart at the seams
I grasp for any piece of hope that my soul, my heart, the very meaning of my existence will finally find their way home to me