Long Wang Poems
Long Wang Poems. Below are the most popular long Wang by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wang poems by poem length and keyword.
Whispers handsome infinity
Time stands still in the vicinity
Mountains that I love to see
Clouds hug them with impish glee
I am fortunate in my tent at Wang Di
On the top are my birds of pinkish hue
They slip out at my tempted palm
Mountains teach me how to sit and stare
Not to touch and instead satiate my gaze
At the play of lucky dreams on the cloud-hugged peaks
Wind blows into the rhododendrons
I want to rush inside the hug of clouds and flowers
Mountains teach me a lesson of not to hasten
Instead unfasten knots of beauty feelingly
I smile and say, it’s indeed very lovely
Wishing to smell the valley I step ahead
I’m about to lay my cheek on the velvet of the slopes
Mountains ask me not to get so tightly close
Instead inhale the aroma arising from the body
I envy the lambs that graze there to their heart’s content
Were I a lamb free to taste the valley and hill
But then the touch of timelessness would have been missing perhaps
Two dimples come out charmingly as the mountains say so
______________________________________________________________
July 9, 2016
Wang dang dang guh ditty, wang: wanga ooh!
wang:dang;ah ditty
wang danga ditty
wanga dang ah eh-ooh!
Womanizers and rakes!
wanga danga dity do woop ohh!
dang dang do!
-----------------------------------
-----------------------------------
I stand to speak the Do-den-ah's
ah- ooh we
skit danttin do-woop-do-wah
skit dat-ditin we
ah she gally I do!
ah she gally ooh!
skit dattin dolly ooh!
ooh we ah
ooh we ah
ah we ooh!
---------------------------------
-----laid back------------------
woogie boogie
clap yeah yeah
ah that's the stuff!
ooh we ah ooh ah
Baby baby I can't get enuff!
Love your grind
makes me do the morning grin
kissey kissey
do your thang
Thats the kinda love
I'm in!
-------------------------------
A "sleazy" big band sound is
often characterized by
slow-to-mid-tempo swing
, heavy, muted brass,
and a dark, gritty atmosphere
---------------------------------
I go to a restaurant owned by Wang Chung.
His specialty dish is shrimp egg foo young.
The food is the best in town without a doubt.
I usually go there when I want some takeout.
Wang is just too generous with the gravy.
It’s the most I’ve ever seen, and I don’t mean maybe!
Well, he didn’t put the lid on tight enough.
I had an experience that was plenty rough.
The lid opened and gravy was all over my shirt.
How do I get the stain out? It’s tougher than dirt.
Wang Chung sent me to his cousin who owns a laundry.
Wang told me that he was the one to see.
“My cousin can get your shirt whiter than white.
The first time only, he gets things right.”
I left the shirt at the laundry and departed in a spurt.
However, the ticket remained in the pocket of the shirt.
The next day, Wang’s cousin said this to me:
“So solly cholly! No tickee, no washee!”
March 1, 2014
Dan was such an ardent fan of schwab and scoros
With such evil plans, he toadied up this man from
Wang' As we call Wangeratta.) for he didn't give a damn' his pebble specs were
Focused on, the denigration of Victorians.' In his own real dirty
Plans, almost two years he weilded terror, all trust he would
Destroy, i would cringe were I related.' What thoughts would have
The mother? I really wonder? Of her boy.? He resigned his
Seat, quite dirty now; another takes it on' maybe just as
Evil' A w e f moron? After said retirement he thought to take
Up golf.? But they rejcted him at Mornington, said he's really as bad
As rolf
Not a man..' In the way of honourable' i suppose is what is meant
All of his attributes?? Are what others might call bent?
Portslade club, you've done us proud may Australians all stand
Straight! And applaud you loud and strong, granted grace i hope
To come, and wish all well in verse and song.' You truly are my mates'
Now Dan the dil.? I rate him low, Pentridge being' too good for him to go
A hole in one, one mile below and i'll dig that. And by hand I trow' Its the
Place where he should go, you dirty crook minded ham, no act no
Words, will ever take away, the shame, you ladled on..The ones that
Gave you chance, to show your attributes?? And was that wrong??
Its good your gone, you brought me tears I felt much shame I hate
The whisper of your name, Koby Dimond is light years ahead, you evil Scum; to me you're dead.' For all The hurts you heaped on others,
May you rot away ( you wrongo ) lover! forever; with all the other sick
Misinfo Shovers.!
In the beginning it was just a smell
a smell i could not quite make sense of
a smell that the city was, a smell that the people in it were
in the beginning it was just a smell
a smell that dragged swarms of people of their homes
onto the streets, into the trains, into the strangers’ eyes and their uncharted territories
slowly i realised
all cities are, first, smells to the outsiders
and Tainan was smell sound taste touch to me
there were moments when i felt
this city is just people, so many of them; how beautiful
that i do not know any of them, yet i know them all
sometimes i would think if i emptied the city of all these countless faces
and bodies jostling with each other, what would remain of the city? would it still beat if i put my ears into the hearts of the depeopled Shennong Street
at the dead of night?
i came to Taiwan for the same reason
that a Vietnamese, an Indonesian, or an American comes for,
to chase my dreams, to become more of me,
instead I became it
it wasn’t as easy and quick as they make it out to be;
it took time, for love has its own mysterious ways
i started to embrace Taiwan and its culture
huge numbers of scooters and cars
Everyone follows the traffic rules
wait patiently for the green signals
one in Tainan city never feels pity
city buses and t-bikes are the best friends of a wanderer in the city
people are always helpful,
they adore you as they adore ‘hello kitty’;
small parks almost at every half a kilometer
elderly people like Mr. and Mrs. Wang use them for exercise
sometimes the parks provide sweet beds to the homeless;
i often use the underground passage of the Tainan train station
i look at the people sleeping there
they have made their small worlds in the underpass
they eat, they sleep, they chat with their neighbours
people look quite strange and funny without boundaries around them
their small worlds haven’t yet known the ways of the boundaries, the frontiers; these people are happy in heavy rains and in extreme cold, are they happy?
Tainan has a home for everyone, i guess
when I feel bored, i go to the sea
and bathe in the sounds of its waves lapping against the shores
sunset-platform lets you enjoy the majestic sunset and calming breeze born of the boundless deep
_____to be continue in part-II
China Spies and Lies
Concentration camps in the north
disappearing book sellers in the south
Chinese spies hunt one and all
Army of thieves , worldwide
Zhao Ziyang, where is he?
erased from Chinese history
where is the brave young man
who battled one thousand tanks?
Xu Jiatun, where is he?
erased from Chinese history
truth has no play in China today
only death and propaganda reign
Xi Jinping, crimes against humanity
Lu Shaye, propogandist to the core
Leaders of a revolution long dead
corruption their cause, their only rules
Coal plants and cigarettes
Keep your silences
even you may lose your breath
This is China, spies and lies
Jailed Activists
Ai Weiwei
Bao Tong
Bao Zunxin
Cai Lujun
Chen Pokong
Cheng Jianping
Gao Zhisheng
Guo Quan
He Depu
Hu Jia
Huang Qi
Ilham Tohti
Jiang Lijun
Jiang Rong
Jiang Yanyong
Jiang Yefei
Li Hai
Li Zhi
Liao Yiwu
Liu Di
Liu Xiaobo
Qin Yongmin
Shi Tao
Tan Zuoren
Tang Baiqiao
Wang Bingzhang
Wang Dan
Wang Quanzhang
Wang Xiaoning
Wang Youcai
Wei Jingsheng
Wu Gan
Xu Zhiyong
Yang Jianli
Yuan Hongbing
Yue Xin
Zeng Jinyan
Zhao Changqing
Zhao Lianhai
Epigrams V
Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do stars
applaud the glowworm’s stellar mimicry?
—Michael R. Burch
Teach me to love:
to fly beyond sterile Mars
to percolating Venus.
—Michael R. Burch
Byron
was not a shy one,
as peacocks run.
—Michael R. Burch
When I visited Lord Byron's residence at Newstead Abbey, there were peacocks running around the grounds, which I thought appropriate.
Less Heroic Couplets: Unsmiley Simile, or, Down Time
by Michael R. Burch
Quora is down!
I frown:
how long can the universe suffice
without its ad-vice?
"Lu Zhai" ("Deer Park")
by Wang Wei (699-759)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Uninhabited hills ...
except that now and again the silence is broken
by something like the sound of distant voices
as the sun's sinking rays illuminate lichens ...
Swiftly the years mount
by T'ao Ch'ien
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Swiftly the years mount, exceeding remembrance.
Solemn the stillness of this spring morning.
I will clothe myself in my spring attire
then revisit the slopes of the Eastern Hill
where over a mountain stream a mist hovers,
hovers an instant, then scatters.
Scatters with a wind blowing in from the South
as it nuzzles the fields of new corn.
War, the God
by Michael R. Burch
War lifts His massive head and turns...
The world upon its axis spins.
... His head held low from weight of horns,
His hackles high. The sun He scorns
and seeks the rose not, but its thorns.
The sun must set, as night begins,
while, unrepentant of our sins,
we play His game, until He wins.
For War, our God, our bellicose Mars,
still rules our heavens, dominates our stars.
Shotgun Bedding
by Michael R. Burch
A pedestrian pediatrician
set out on a dangerous mission;
though his child bride, Lolita,
was a sweet senorita,
her pa’s shotgun cut off his emissions!
Keywords/Tags: epigram, epigrams, mayfly, mayflies, mountain, mountains, star, stars, stellar, glowworm, firefly, mimic, mimicry, irony, jealousy, judgement, life, mortality, loss, nature, transience, Quora
Although Tai-Gueng-Uang’s* wife
did not abandon her husband but wanted
to avoid poverty, she, now, is so sad and agonizing
because no water poured to the ground can be recovered.
Although the people say that Tai-Gueng-Uang angled
the sun, moon, stars and clouds and winds with straight hook
dropped in water,
why, not speak of the time,
this incompetent old fool, a man incapable of catching even,
with a hook and delicious bits, a smallest fish in the pond,
scraping the ground with a broken dipper for spilled water?
The fool though knew that the opportunity is not given
to everyone who wants but is for the chosen ones,
yet walked up and down restlessly on the stage
it was never allowed for him to step on;
now he sits on the stage where the many big and little stars
stepped on and performed their best in the applause with hand clapping,
dropping a line faced to the empty seats in the dark and dismal theatre.
Why the only yell of sarcasm echoes
in the empty space however? Why not the laughter
but the melancholic tune rings from the orchestra pit nevertheless?
For whom the requiem rises to a chorus from backstage nonetheless?
*Chou Royal House political and military strategist and Wen Wang’s teacher. Later invested as a feudal lord of Tzi by Un Wang the son of Wen Wang.
Goodnight My Beloved Grandma (for Elizabeth Ugoeze Nwadinobi)
By Izunna Okafor
As an ocean bleeds unbounded
Troubling the sons it founded
In pathing the ways with tracks
Tears have bathed my wang with marks
What a world !
The wave blew aloud like a ruse
Kidnapping attentions as a tale
Only to jail some minds in her rue
Blinking as sorrow in the eyes of men
What a world !!
We never expected an untimely departure
But that has reposed our own to her home
For the time of men is tied to the nature
And our tears for the dead a show of sorrow
Death has seized the noble hen
And the chicks abandoned in the dusky earth
We cry not because we need a sympathetic help
But to cough sorrow off our heavy heart
Death is wicked
And the world a tricketh
But we'll forever remember you as a mother
Farewell and goodbye our dear grandmother
Good night !
Good night !!
Good night !!!
(Your Grandson)
© Izunna Okafor 2018
She slithered from the jungle in a Vera Wang sarong
Like some wicked juju temptress with no sense of right or wrong.
I remember how it thrilled me,
Oh yeah, when she shimmied in the buff;
And that first time she let loose, I thought I’d never get enough.
She hid a wealth of smuggled goods among her cargo.
I was cornered and defenseless; she was turning on the tease.
Then she wrapped her legs around me in an anaconda squeeze.
She had something sweet to teach me,
Oh yeah, more than modesty allowed.
So I poured a gin and tonic and I let myself get plowed.
She dealt in contraband delights with no embargo.
She was primitive and deadly. I was curious and young,
Groping hesitant, yet eager, heart to heart and tongue to tongue.
I plunged headlong with abandon,
Oh yeah, off those reckless, dizzy heights,
Spinning through a swirl of colors, shooting toward a burst of lights.
I came down withered, drained, and blank like no tomorrow.
You can run a little faster, beat the bullet from the gun.
You can run a little farther, almost halfway to the sun.
But when you run from Tondelayo,
Oh yeah, Christ, her cargo weighs a ton.