Long Toying Poems
Long Toying Poems. Below are the most popular long Toying by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Toying poems by poem length and keyword.
ah the magical mystique of the moon
celebrated in folklore and mythology
goading howling women
who can frighten werewolves
the waxing moon
associated with reproductive cycles
of women, marine animals and wild life
ensuring we are more loving
the waning moon
connecting the celestial with deeply sacred rhythms
affecting our moods, toying with our ups and downs
shaking up people who are bi-polar
the full moon
she has amassed a reputation
birth rates rising, increased crime and hospital visits
she winks at us, loving her power
the moon is ever changing
cyclical like every form of life
revolving over and over
refreshing and replenishing us at her whim.
"Winter breath flutters to an exhilarating dance on nostalgic moments, giving way to beauty."
Quote by poet
The bursting sun, a flower of gold radiance,
An idle footprint of time. A sweet, warm, healing
Friendship, spiced with the rhythm of nature's affection.
It weaves perfection upon longing hearts and souls.
Brightening the world, toying upon the window.
Spun frozen dewdrops glisten under the sunlight.
A walk in consolation, about hopeful fields,
A rebirth exhalation to marvel and sigh.
Rainbow shimmer of magic grackles and ravens
A perfect partnered dance on naked tree branches.
Leaves in downward whorl upon the latent carpet;
Cheerful, awe-inspiring as squirrels wobble through.
i barely remember being a teenager
yet i need only say these words
for my mind to start a tsunami
so true that youth is wasted on the young
all that misdirected energy and passion
that early taste of power
i was just another clumsy teenager
toying with hazy boundaries
navigating unchartered waters
if only our life purpose were divulged
while we had all this energy & enthusiasm
how disappointing to have wasted
so much precious time only to realize
that it’s time we can never get back
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~LOOKING BACK~ 2023
Read on air by invitation ~ June 9, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: 3rd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2021
A chokeslam!
Goodnight sweet prince
Goodnight yawning hippo ****
With rice wine coming out your ears
Boom boom sticks
A wisecracker talking head
Histrionics at the bandstand
Eliminated by more than one can shake
Hospitalised due to a
Finishing move on the concrete
The poodle evacuated worldy goods
Outside the pizza restaurant
You left a cigarette on a bicycle seat
To show how gracious you were
Your toying entanglements
Left chairs being thrown
A Scotsman strangled
You with his no laughing matter arm
Tables, ladders and chairs
The human lounge, hairy stool and burger beds
Gape and keep a weather eye on
For those aha visions and afflatus
Our history teacher watched Smackdown
He said it's great theatre
Old Santa Claus is in the know now
he's changing with the times;
now, he speaks out against the GMO's
saying toying with foods a crime.
Santa hungers for organic kale
turns his nose up at cookies.
He's tired, he said, of being a whale
and loves the extra nookie!
See, Mrs. Claus now brags about him
points at his six-pack ab's
She's bought a Ninja Pro,and a gym
hates additives from labs.
There's No problem with the chimney's now
he could work for the Cirque du Soleil
Yes, Santa's on a fitness kick, wow,
the reindeer all shout yeah!
Under each tree Claus leaves sports gear
and ropes to mountain climb
new ice skates and snow ski's appear
with fruit baskets full of limes.
Buff Claus is dressed by Tom Ford now
in a fitted suit of red velvet
boots, and bow tie of black allowed
and a snowy silk shirt to sell it.
Contest: What's Up with Santa
In shadows dark, where evil dwells,
A tale unfolds, of twisted spells.
A figure roams, with eyes so cold,
A narcissist psychopath, stories untold.
His charm deceives, a polished guise,
A predator lurking, behind those eyes.
With silver tongue, she weaves his web.
To feed upon the souls unaware.
A master manipulator, she plays her game,
Toying with hearts, igniting flame's.
She craves admiration, her ego supreme,
A thirst for power, a narcissist's dream.
She preys on innocence, with no remorse,
Leaving scars behind, an eternal force.
Emotions shallow, devoid of empathy,
Her heart a void, the hole unfilled.
She weaves a web, of deceit and lies,
Drawing victims close, with cunning guise.
Her cruelty hidden, beneath a mask,
A wolf in sheep's clothing, an arduous task.
But the facade shall crumble, in time's cruel grip,
Exposing the truth, as darkness grips.
For a narcissist psychopath, cannot hide,
The scars she inflicts, the tears we cry.
So beware the one, with an empty gaze,
A narcissist psychopath, lost in a maze.
Guard your heart, protect your soul,
From the depths of such darkness, one can't tell.
Fan sport of a nation
Celebrate vacation
Slow traffic to a crawl
For a net and a ball
Fiery sandy beaches
Prettier than peaches
Girls in hot bikinis
Skidding smooth to their knees
Reaching for ball contact
With maximum impact
Volley from each corner
In a precise order
Minding the bearing north
Exciting back and forth
Fingertips so gentle
Tactical and mental
To and fro audacious
Then a wack so vicious
Higher up in the air
On the sideline a spare
A little friendly bet
Goddesses at the net
Under the summer sun
Toying with fitness fun
AP: 3rd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on October 3, 2020 for contest GAMES - MENTAL OR PHYSICAL sponsored by WILLIAM KEKAULA - RANKED 2ND
Just when I think I'm over you,
you call and say "Baby, I need you in my life."
My chest tightens and I start to panic,
you say things that make me want to stay your wife.
It's not fair that you can do this to me,
you push me away, then try to pull me back.
Things are good with us for a while,
then you show me the conscience that you lack.
We seem to go right back to you being malevolent,
cussing me out, false accusations, and calling me names.
Causing me heartache, and toying with my emotions,
the way you're feigning, you should be ashamed.
You say "Remember our times.",
however I don't think of what you mean.
I "remember" when you cheated, lied, and stole.
I "remember" that all wasn't serene.
My heart can not take all the sorrow
you continuously put it through.
Those three magic words of "I love you",
doesn't erase all the misery my soul accrued.
I'm not a book that you can can take down,
and use, then put away whenever you please.
I won't tell you it's okay to treat me this way,
so your bruised ego can be appeased.
Learn to treasure me for what I am,
a loving person who has feelings.
Because every time you play these games,
it's a piece of my spirit you are stealing.
By a faceless crowd,
I was surrounded.
- “Beautiful.”
He called out to me.
I was petrified by how I was described by him.
I was witty and radiant.
I was poised - bliss.
I was a toying between being heartless or just having a hardened heart.
nonetheless, I was.
I was lost within sacred evergreens,
feverishly writing
in the darkness
- alone.
Conveying his selfish fantasies of beauty,
in such dreadful ways,
selfishly writing
- still
- I held him in.
Even within the pain,
and the awe,
I held him that close.
In pain, it was awful...
I was consumed,
embarrassed,
but pondering it all.
Somewhere far from my mother's favorite pond,
I was feeling powerless
to the calming waves of emotion.
An expressionist,
- I was.
but no more
was I really beautiful...?
You say that you love me:
yet it's difficult to tell
whether or not you're being genuine,
or merely toying with my heart.
You're apt at bending the truth
until it fits your lies like a glove,
and the two become indistinguishable.
My heart is in purgatory; a soulful place
somewhere between heaven and hell.
I feel I'm in a revolving door,
that's going nowhere:
I've been trapped there before.
Conflicted by hope and doubt,
I don't know what to do.
I want to believe every word you say:
but I've heard them all before.
One moment, I'm in ecstasy,
savoring the sweetness of your kiss;
and the next, all I taste
are the bitter dregs of rejection.
How much more can my heart endure?
My feelings fluctuate,
between love, anger, and hurt:
leaving me in such pain that I cry.
How can I ever be sure
that what you offer is love;
and not an illusion, created by trust?