Long Twist around Poems
Long Twist around Poems. Below are the most popular long Twist around by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Twist around poems by poem length and keyword.
Passion lies not in fear towards cheer,
To conquer unknown gestures behind
Some rare laughter, but so insincere..
Those words, tongues twist around; disappear
Until tears grow no link to being blind.
Fear of long awaited hope shapes care,
Set to beat tricks, lust stages alright
With pure intentions to outsmart stare...
That could lay hold on twists playing fair,
Till laughter couldn't shine bright; its light
And clinch onto tears that caress pain;
Driven by proposed fear's turnaround.
Will choosy purpose does actuate gain?
To cover up a seeming less stain
Not enough to stop laughs, tears expound.
Laughs powered by prospects of lost fool,
Timing brainy approaches cum risk
Of growing fearless life goals on pool,
Dim laughs could rarely survive by rule-
Sets standard fitness, fear barely whisk.
Leggings cuddle my thick thighs
Making me feel so contented
With the chubbiness I feel inside
When I go to try on my wardrobe
Leggings bring me to peace with myself
When I would be dishonored by jeans
They feel so soft and willing to bend
That I love them like I never could believe
Leggings caress my legs with their knits
Leaving me room to twist around and sit
Letting me know that I have the curves
To fill up my leggings with pure chubbiness
Leggings remind me just why I can feel
Assured that I still have a little sex appeal
They tighten around me just enough to reveal
The curve of my thighs and calves fascination
Leggings are the best part of my apparel
They leave me with a feeling of appreciation
Let me breathe freely and feel the open air
With a sense of self-expression alive for dancing
In shadows deep where chaos grips my heart, A whispered cry is heard from the darkened cells
A child once laughing beneath a sunlit sky, Now lost in the darkness of despair.
Fear crawls like a serpent in the night, its scales revealing the demons I bear
I drown in thoughts that bind me to this cage, a battle fought against silent screams as shadows twist around my mind. I wrestle with the darkness, afraid of what will happen when I close my eyes
Each tear is a river, each sigh a struggle; my mind wrestles with the demons that dance in front of me, mocking me.
I fight against the tide, but it pulls me in deeper
I met a man some time ago
who late in age had a very healthy body
But when he opened up his mouth
his teeth looked rather shoddy
At tender age of five his face was adorned with many bumpy warts
Prescriptions such as creams covered with a nightly full face cotton mask
It would twist around his face, he often felt a long way out of sorts
Finally to a city consultation
prescribing facial radiation
Six weeks in total applied to his dial
mercurochrome a facial paint daily rubbed on
Not much in those days to really make him smile
So many years later probably sixty or so
he discovered radiation affects emerging adult teeth
causes them to crumble it's now what he has to show
A radiographer confirmed what he had read these are the side effects for sure
Arising from this most unnatural cure
Many comments from family and friends alike
about the sight of his unfortunate dental state
Not much affordable able to be done
it's now many years too late
Hope there's not too many more derogatory statements about this mans north and south
That refer once again to the visual components in his mouth
And what is so amazing his teeth don't give him any trouble
no aching no bouts of unwanted pain
If he had his time over could make his own decisions with his knowledge of radiation
it would never happen again
Footnote: this man has recently learnt that the radiation has most likely killed off the nerves hence no pain
The Dusky-
olive green emerges into pale yellow appearance
thy baton dignifies engagement to Lizzy's emergence.
yellow, a pictogram of thy intellect, insights and joyousness
beholder of polish grace, thou, her unspoken liveliness
Shyness thy sweet ornament, eyes the doors to forgetfulness
O' Darcy,
time cuddles thy wrist, fingers twist around the twig
Thy affection, her reflection, a melody, a mumbling click
Small town boy, thou are, relishing elegance, thou live in
And around where the birds sing and swing for thou, her twin
She too, unheard and undeclared yet integral and transparent grin
Thy sunflower-
Reminds the theory, one for other, forever and ever ahead
Sipping sips from each integrity, their compassion, a consistent thread
Spring welcomes thy counts in; autumn forget his loss even
Only thy persona, twinkles in her literary arena; she choosily given
Thy speed is the speed of light, beyond her serene delight.
Where hast thou gone off to
What starlit sky hast thine saddened eyes gazed upon
From whence might I be able to witness
Thy form twist around in wisps of stardust
And from thither create within mine own mind
An image of thee whom I shall fail to live without
And yet I wonder if too slow mine thoughts were to reach thee
If within thine self exists the courage at all
Ready to accept whatever consequence arises from the flames of passion
Fear that it may incinerate that which ere blossomed
From whence came the friendship that I dost hold dearest
I could bear not a universe without thy laugh or smile
For to lose thee is to lose myself
However to thou came nothing whom chose to lay down
Thus it would seem not preferable either
To let go, thereby invalidating the many nights
Spent thinking…envisioning our intertwined flesh dancing in moonlight
Dreaming of a way to take thy hand in mine
To rediscover the feeling of safety and peace
A rift formed betwixt that which is necessary and that which must be true by meaning
Tis with sorrowful satisfaction to realize that
Thy present dwelling in darkness obscure I can follow not
If it were so, a thanks to thee for breaking my heart
Thou art the center of my conviction and the deepest of my desires
I would put death onto myself as life a hundred times over
Merely to find us tonight in endless embrace
And to never be parted in bliss or woe
Looking at her I see a scene
A scene of fresh roses which bloom
Around green grass and small blue flowers
She is sweet like the honey bees that buzz
and as gorgeous as the Victorian architecture the gazebo frames
she is as graceful as the peaceful water movements which stir the pond
Her hair braids like the plethora of vines which twist around the columns
it swoops around her ears as the soft clouds float
the many shades of brown remind me of her everlasting warmth
tiny white daisies speckled in her hair with their petals open and blooming
her lips as pink as a bouquet of tulips and lilies
the light in her eyes as bright as the north star
Her voice sings in my ears as I listen to her melody
It whistles through the light wind and chirps of birds
She sings with such colour as a royal sunset painted across the sky in the late evening
The scene she creates in my head brings me comfort
I imagine the endless flowers which line paths and benches
And a gazebo where we dance slow to the morning dove’s song
Your brain spilled like wine
Roots severed in gory detail
Thorn's twist around the vine,
I loved that you were not fine.
And you ate my leftovers
greedily: an apple core, a slice of salami and my chocolate cake
infantile on the couch curled, my
Caterpillar cucooned in bedcovers.
I loved that you died
by my side
Reverse birth and I knew you'd do it
I knew you'd done it when I walked
through the door
and it smelt like silk.
In the kitchen, where the hob held some sort of memory
I thought of how my red legacy spilt through
the white duvet,
And how
you could never make a fuss when I didn't stay
And how you could never really cook,
though you tried to.
My eyes screamed as the blinding yellow light latched itself modest self upon me.
Why?
It happened so fast—so unexpectedly.
At first, my mouth watered as the taste of peppermint fermented on my tongue and the scent of jasmine danced in my thoughts. I was so happy, and I am still so happy.
But why do I lie here on the ground, drawing a sweat as I have to consciously pump air in and out of my lungs! Why do I stare at the ceilings at night thinking of nothing but those tormenting demons who scream me lullabies at night! I am so happy!
The days are blinks, and the nights linger like the smell of a rotting opossum disemboweled on the turnpike. My bed encases me, and my sheets burn my wrists and ankles as they twist around my unwilling body.
“Help me, please!” I will silently scream. “Please.”
Hours go by and my eyes burn from the salty crust forming around them. Even blinking took too much strength, for the night devours my will, my hope, my time.
So here I am. Happy. I truly am happy. But I can’t explain why the nights love me so. Maybe it’s because I might not love myself as much as they love me.