Long Tweaks Poems
Long Tweaks Poems. Below are the most popular long Tweaks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tweaks poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: December 15, 2023
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It is undeniable that anguish prevails
It hovers close to a lilting voice
There are no strains to rejoice
Once the beat soars, its genesis tweaks.
Giving alms is obvious
Beyond the ethics of the tithing ritual
Coins jingle, evoking a sound
A decrease in the supply of food.
Newborns lack hearing and verbal ability
The elderly sage dresses chaotically
Elfin babies desire soft touch and warmth
Akin to their late mother's calming palm.
Completely lacking in decency
Deep, the ears were concealed
Whilst untamed jaws sow turmoil
It sinks as a modest, rusted nail.
The crowd heartily jeered
Tears fell over their faces relentlessly
Failure was diligently earned
Mass disgust reached high levels.
The whips roared with mirth
Frames grudgingly bore this duty
Correct ideals will be reinstated
Inept debt must be repaid in full.
SAT NAM
I am rose in sunlight breathing
Buddha in middle of balm bathing
beckoning my Heart leavening lively
I am a loop in Love cathedral of pure
passion where two beanpoles
dance dare devils deafening
I am wolf wandering in wild weather
finding a fabulous feathered feed
mesmerising messages of marvellous magic
I am darling dove in Dover
watching wedded buy woven wonders
my wings widen their purse-strings wonkily
I am ant anticipating bald-headed eagle
escorting a co-op car to labour ward
fetching mother and new bursting born
I am bardy breeze trying a tango
in coralled coloured church chinks
witnessing choristers sing new comely chords
I am quint quilt on forked farmyard fence
damp dough in toddler tweaks
forte fingers on trebled trumpet tumbling
I am sage steaming vapour soothing stomach
Salomon’s battle stoned and sprung
mirroring his victory on glass floors glimmering
I am tiger in Tibetan temple tempered
monks on my turf as they deserve
stroke my striking countenance smoothly
I am silhouetted stallion in South Sea surf
galloping my gay freedom song
whilst scientists girdle genomes googling
I am witch of weathered spirits
witnessing zigzag zaps down
lithe legs as learnings of latent timelines
I am grandpa goat gambling
another term of gum boot dancing
Lady Nada gifting a hymn for Beatles ballooning
I am Goddess of the Moon
inspiring mortals to seek
Sat Nam Sat Nam Sat Nam !
Saaaaat Naaaaaaammm…
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song
2008
There are 144,000 persons living in an open land. All are freemen and women. They have everything they needed to survive until one day when almost all people needed something else to quench their thirst for immortality. Not everyone wanted immortality where there is already peace and harmony in their common lifestyle. Some opted to live a simple life while more people were tempted to search for more to suffice their bodily pleasures.
"Whose idea is this?" one asked.
Many people replied: "Nobody except of some animals that approached us."
The same person asked another question: "How can animals talk to humans... in what language?"
Nobody answered out of the many people of over one hundred thousand.
Many days passed and day by day a group of men and women started moving to a different place. For a very long time where these common people have lived with serenity in the very same old place of peace and laughter, they are now being divided and scattered. No one was able to explain if it's an ideology or a new belief why people started to view things around them differently. People looked at each other in different ways unlike before. More years passed and almost everybody's gone except for a family of eight.
One day, this family discovered the place where almost everybody went... a secluded site believed to be a paradise in the outside, but only hatred and sorrow in the inside. People who immigrated to this new place can no longer return to their old blessed land which they once called "wasteland" -- land of their birth and good values.
Do you know where most people went?... a place immigrants called "Nede."
All six children-members of the only family left outside of the so called "Paradise of Nede" asked themselves if they can survive in the coming years. Their parents answered: "Why worry when you don't live with guilt?"
I only write, but never kill
My blood runs deep, but temperature is still
So deep and caressing as the ocean moves
Over sands and paper, always wet and proves
Reminiscing your memories in me
Reverberating your sweet thoughts of me
Your heart that speaks... my pen that tweaks!
(Prosebite)
We had searched for empty houses to play
Haunted, not a soul in them would stay.
At far end of the village we had found one
From afar it looked mighty but undone.
Its tiled roof was broken in many a place
As nature elements weakened its timber base.
All rooms adjoined to the spiral staircase
Its grandeur once had spread far apace.
We loved to play hide and seek in there
I hid in the attic as no one came to snare.
The porch wall still had a carved rosette
In its wet groves dark moss had got set.
Ferns randomly had spiked out of creeks
We jumped high to get its bunch tweaks.
Garden in front of house lay in high weeds
once it surely had flowered many a seeds.
The majestic front door smitten with algae
Told stories in whispers as wind blew in alley.
The forlorn villa still haunts my memory
My childhood yet enconsed in its reverie.
20.7.2020
"Bad Love, Sweet Goodbye"
(A Romantic, Heartbreak-Healing Valentine’s Poem)
Verse 1:
You were the rebel with a devil’s grin,
A candy gram, my heart let you in.
Red paper lace, a name unsigned—
Still, I traced the love you left behind.
Pre-Chorus:
Whatcha want? Whatcha need?
You stole my love like a thief in speed.
But Sheriff Time comes slow, not sweet—
To cuff the memories, bittersweet.
Chorus:
Bad love, bad boy…
Whatcha gonna do when the past takes joy?
You chucked my heart like a wild stone,
Left me bleeding, left me lone.
Bad love, bad boy…
Whatcha gonna do when I’m no toy?
Verse 2:
Holiday glitter, a stolen kiss,
Sugar-hard till the ache’s abyss.
You were fire, I was wax—
Melting slow in your cruel tracks.
Bridge:
Why’d you have to act so cold?
A human heart’s not rock to hold.
But lilies crack through frozen concrete—
I’ll bloom again, love, bitter turned sweet.
Final Chorus:
Bad love, bad boy…
Whatcha gonna do when I’m rebuilt gold?
You’re too rude, you’re too late—
My Valentine’s now self-debate.
Outro:
Sheriff Time brought me a clue:
The sweetest love’s the one I choose.
—
Style: Romantic yet wounded, with a rhythm echoing the original’s urgency but softer, like a heart sighing. The candy gram memory contrasts the "bad boy’s" chaos, and the Sheriff becomes Time/healing. Perfect for a woman’s healing journey—raw but rising.
Would you like any tweaks to the mood or imagery? ??
I am not good at critiques. I am better at praise.
I like almost every poem. I want to elevate and raise.
Reading poems is a hobby that makes me feel good.
I know I should critique. As if that I could!
I have barely been writing poetry myself, for just a couple of weeks.
I know when I got my feet wet, people gave me all kinds of tweaks.
People were ever so kind, no matter how silly my rants.
Critiquing a poet? I am afraid that this fits in with my can'ts.
I do not feel knowledgeable enough about poetry yet.
So I will have to stick with what I know, which is to praise every pet.
The poems I do not understand, the ones over my head so tall,
I simply skip over, and do not comment at all.
I am not good at critiques. I am better at praise.
It has served me quite well, all these poem-reading days.
Reading poems is terrific, it gives me ideas galore.
If you need critiques from me, you are barking at the wrong door.
Dawn flings new light
As eyes sense sight
The urge of morn
Sings to the dawn
Light brings new sense
To time and tense
Live well this day
With fun and play
Start with good cheer
See faith purge fear
End with clear poise
That knows sure voice
Let tale now speak
To paint fond tweaks
In just a smile
Grand thoughts can style
Look within now
To know endow
Look deeper here
To live good cheer
Look and you'll see
Truth and beauty
Know this for sure
Joy makes you pure
Know who you are
A brilliant star
Nothing can mar
True love lives far
Dare brave your fate
As cheer fills plate
Dare be just you
As finesse ques
Dare live with zest
In journey quest
When the end comes
Love floods the sum
Leon Enriquez
17 November 2014
Singapore
Make a start
Not in any order
Go on the outer
Then circle the border
Fly your kite, let it soar
Do not take less, when you can get more
Never you sigh,
Or ask the reason why
Break free, break free
Glide through the rapture
Ride the torrid winds
Expand your horizon
Search for hidden things
Play your music high
Play your music low
The salient notes, the hidden crescendos
Floating and waning, entering chasms
Soar to where eagles fly
Let me shout, take me high
For brave men seek glory
While cowards choose to die
Never to gain freedom from
Failure to try
Break down the walls, join the battle
Jericho's walls were the trumpeter's cotton
As the orchestra plays
And conductor wields his baton
The fiddler tweaks his notes
To the strings of the harper's tussle
A harmony of notes
Toeing and frooing, crescendos growing
Seeds are sown and harvest flowing
Savour your journey, never to be forgotten.
In passionate embraces
Spoil me rotten.
Drink from the fountain
Take from the well
Wield your magic ,then cast your spell.
Not in any order
No rules are laid
Just make the effort
Go on the outer but don't cross the border..
She dances to the beat
Of the songs in her head
Light on her feet
She'll gracefully tread
Circles in motion
Throughout the air
Releasing her potion
She's happy to share
The others admire
the things she sees
The music she hears
The melodies
She was born to feel passion
Created to shine
Minus art, she's crashing
Without beauty, she's blind
She opens a book
And steps inside
For a deeper look
More fulfilling ride
With paper and pen
She bears her soul
At ease, she'll begin
Her language will roll
Whenever she speaks
Words become art
It's not that she tweaks
They're derived from her heart
When in her presence
A fire is blazing
Her very essence
Is rather amazing
For every concern
She holds the answer
So much to be learned
From this silent dancer
Joined Poetry Soup January 2026
I'm a keen observer of the body particularly exhalation of the breath
it happens near the top of body and also near the bottom
There's often heaps of air, in the body it is stored
But sometimes there's just no control, embarrassingly it sneaks out like a phantom
Now when breathing through the nose, up near the top
there's sounds of snort and snore
But when it's near the bottom
beeps and tweaks and motor bikes, different sounds galore
If you suffer signs of flatulence
here's a tip that you should know
If you're surrounded by some company
Please exhale only from the nose and not from down below
There are some foods reputed to build up lots wind, tinned baked beans
Jerusalem fartichokes and alcohol, this list is just a start
There are many other ingested foods that will cause a noisy fart
Now if you're standing on your hands
with both your top and bottom air holes upside down
Does a fart become a burp and a burp become a fart?
How many times do you try not to make a noisy sound?
A burp was once regarded
as a compliment to the cook
But if you're sitting eating at the table and expel a noisy fart
It's most likely you'll get more than just a dirty look