Long Wanting(a) Poems
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Perche Sono Me IV (Fire)
It’s been a long time since I have told anyone why I was myself and why I am me. It was long ago that I dictated three prose poems on this matter. The same questions have come up; newer ones add to my plight. I am single because I will not settle for anyone who only fulfills the needs of my loins. I prefer a person that arouses my intellect and respect for her. The people I have met only meet one of those criteria, except one meeting two of the three. Still, to get all three is a challenge. Even getting two of the three is a challenge.
Why are you Single?
I am myself because of the pain I have endured by many who have claimed to want of me while they were giving a kiss of deceit. Playing with anyone's emotions is an unethical crime that haunts the perpetrator later in life. Several females who claim to know what they want are falling and feeling the pain they deserve for what they wanted was not deserved or earned. If you are stupid enough to want a bridge and house built for you without contributing to the production, then do not expect to have them when the man has built them. Of course, an unethical man will claim to have these until you are trapped and left out in the trash. Do not expect the good man to take you in, as you are not recyclable. When you give up on wanting a respectable man, you give up on being respectable to yourself. Your pain and the pain of your children were caused by you pursuing the pleasure of your false beliefs. One of them believed that she wanted a person of her faith. He could not commit to the person of free milk. He used her for five years. HARK to her for showing disrespect to herself and her daughter. Now, she is with someone who cares about how they treat her. Putting aerosol on excrement does not make a candle's scent flow in the breeze.
What type of partner do you want to marry?
Education is vital to me as I have seen many go to school only to find a mate or find a person to mate with. It is pretty disturbing that the goal is procreation and recreation. It is wiser to find someone who matches the qualities of a good girlfriend or wife if they meet the higher qualities. If you want a good friend, find someone with the qualities of a good girlfriend. If you want a good girlfriend, find someone who would make a good wife. If you want a good wife, then focus on these two aspects.
We lie in the dark,
my back to his chest, clinging to one of his arms.
This moment is beautiful, tender, and I cherish it.
The silence is broken and his voice rumbles in my ear.
"Tell me about your past, my dear."
My life flashes past my eyes, quick as lightning.
Panic sets in, I gulp, sweat, attempt to avoid.
He sees through it all and persists.
Tears threaten to overwhelm me,
as internally I burn this moment into my mind, heart, and soul.
I silently tell him, my love, goodbye.
"My young life has been hard, painful, overwhelming.
I've been shot, nearly stabbed, nearly choked to death on the railroad tracks.
I've screamed for help so many times by choking on pills, sitting on train tracks, slicing my wrists.
Abused by a brother, abandoned by a father, neglected by a mother.
Kicked out, homeless, stealing candy from a gas station."
His arms tighten the more I speak, and I regret telling him anything at all.
But he has asked and I cannot deny him.
The words begin to flow like a car crash that I am powerless to stop.
"The abuse seemed kind when it happened, from lovers of my past.
Though each had specific rules, that I discovered fast.
I could not touch one unless upon seduction.
I could not trust her, for her death was near upon my fingers.
I loved one; they preferred to see me suffer, for I wished to make them happy."
I can feel the anger radiate from his body,
coiled tight, wanting a target.
I know it's fueled by a sadness, I cannot feel.
And yet I continued.
"I've suffered from nightmares for years, waking to tears or screaming.
I am easy to fright, even when unwarranted.
The PTSD causes me to flinch or jump at near every sound.
PTSD, insomnia, depression,
I've fallen down flights of stairs,
taken care of everyone else and have neglected myself."
I stare into the darkness as the words finally stop,
everything that ever happened replaying through my mind again,
from a new perspective.
Still I cannot feel the true tragedy of it.
I realize I have recited these things, in a monotone voice.
Devoid of the pain I must have felt.
But I am the rock, the caretaker, the forgiver.
He is silent with me, his arms an iron cage,
and I cannot breathe.
I do not mind.
He inhales deeply, his voice nearly inaudible he simply speaks.
"I will always be here for you."
And my heart finally breaks.
WHEN TEARS TOUCH
The twelfth of November reminds me of the day
when our paths first crossed then came to grow on trail.
Soon... all the days like waves rolled into years
as we reminisce our pasts: joys and tears for fears.
A pad with pen I hold to write what pops by;
Each tint and curve a bell that says, you and I.
The words are mere push and pull medley of thoughts
shaping a circle melody of heart shots.
Learning flower our way as our cultures shared;
gem writings topically crafted are compared.
Feelings flood colours to our world, closer we became--
Creeping longing is "our meeting" as this both our aim
Beep and peek are lace ladders to higher trust grounds,
every tap and trade a thread fortifying our bond.
The lasso tying our heartstrings to etch some rhymes,
vital signs checked normal but awhile raise second hands
Can it be that this a fruit of stardust's grand wand?
Or a rose waiting to bloom and behold upon bosoms?
Now the day has arrived, suitcases packed, I smile
a journey, I have dreamt about, many many miles.
Nervousness cocoons but it's normal to feel this;
for this my long wish as I enter the coming hours.
Distance and differences our silent enemies!
But... It did not stop us from thinking sound strategies.
Interest and love gleams as our loyal company
enabling us to draw verses of harmony.
Broken bridges we cross by grace of felicity~
yearning to meet eye-to-eye an intensity!
Along the wires we jibe to friendly deal
that as crisp December sings we will make it real.
The cool December made our wanting a tip-top exhilarate..
and from somewhere, a song plays:
"When you feel in your skin in your bones and the hollow
Of your heart, there's no way you can wait till tomorrow.
When there isn't any doubt about it once you come this close
Cos you know and you know that you know...."
_____________________________________________________________
*** the last stanza are lines taken from the song: "WHEN YOU KNOW" by Shawn Colvin from the movie Serendipity.
©J.A. Fraser and O.E. Guillermo
October 29, 2014; 10:05 pm
WHEN TEARS TOUCH
The twelfth of November reminds me of the day
When our paths first crossed then came to grow on trail.
Soon... all the days like waves rolled into years
As we reminisce our pasts: joys and tears for fears.
A pad with pen I hold to write what pops by;
Each tint and curve a bell that says, you and I.
The words are mere push and pull medley of thoughts
Shaping a circle melody of heart shots.
Learnings flower our way as our cultures shared;
Gem writings topically crafted are compared.
Feelings flood colours to our world, closer we became--
Creeping longing is "our meeting" as this both our aim
Beep and peek are lace ladders to higher trust grounds
Every tap and trade a thread fortifying our bond
The lasso tying our heartstrings to etch some rhymes
Vital signs checked normal but awhile raise second hands
Can it be that this a fruit of stardust's grand wand?
Or a rose waiting to bloom and behold upon bosoms?
Now the day has arrived, suitcases packed, I smile.
A journey, I have dreamt about, many many miles.
Nervousness cocoons but it's normal to feel this;
For this my long wish as I enter the coming hours.
Distance and differences our silent enemies!
But... It did not stop us from thinking sound strategies.
Interest and love gleams as our loyal company;
Enabling us to draw verses of harmony.
Broken bridges we cross by grace of felicity~
Yearning to meet eye-to-eye an intensity
Along the wires we jibe to friendly deal
That as crisp December sings we will make it real.
The cool December made our wanting a tip-top exhilarate..
and from somewhere, a song plays:
"When you feel in your skin in your bones and the hollow
Of your heart, there's no way you can wait till tomorrow.
When there isn't any doubt about it once you come this close
Cos you know and you know that you know...."
_____________________________________________________________
*** the last stanza are lines taken from the song: "WHEN YOU KNOW" by Shawn Colvin from the movie Serendipity.
© J. A. Fraser and O.E.Guillermo
October 29, 2014; 10:05 pm
Somewhere in her white house
There was a gray future spouse
Looking for cheese
Doing as he please
Enchanting accent came from the mouth
A drawing sound noting the south
Filled with luring charm
Made a home by telling many a yarn
Living in a guest quarter
Which he could barely afford her
Making his ways through academic halls
Everyone studying engravings on the walls
Defending peaceful thoughts interacting throughout student’s mall
Coming to a relaxing place
Seeing Carolina’s face
“They are making their case”
The blue angel said
About the reason she should not wed
And take a lifelong committed man into her first bed
“We have a right
During our fight
To cross our stripes
Challenging city slicker’s type
Slanting our color navy being no fool
While having a civil feud”
Wanting a comfort shot he stood calm
Listening to reality going on
This was love not a raunchy affair
Where revenge was the dare
“We made an X for a reason
It was not an ax that was treason
Wanting out of the union
Northerner’s knew not what they were doing
Money here money there
We belles had land everywhere”
Now this fellow
Understood his bride’s bellow
And wanted a few minutes to mellow
“Look at the sun
It is almost done
Orange skies
You are marrying a beautiful guy
I am a gamecock
Early morning riser with nice stock
While you are a Tar Heel
When hearts were a major steal
Our relationship is very real
Friends and family will watch us seal
This romantic deal
Then enjoy a joyful meal”
Hearing his soothing voice
She knew he was the proper choice
“Our United States is at war
Diplomatic rhetoric acting out having the stage floor
Rotten as a big apple at the core”
Honest feelings had truth
Questionable just like the Yankee spectacle Babe Ruth
“Remember when physical interaction was deemed a sin
Gossip talking where the two have been
After our vows and we are alone
Shutting off all Ma Bell phones
I will state to only you
Never will we be through”
Below the Mason Dixon line
Where others are treated very kind
Moon reminded them where they met
No longer was the daylight set
Darkness figured out this was the perfect get
Lunar glare smiling watching the innocent talk
Hoping they will be happy after the matrimony walk
BUYING CONDOMS
I was desperate to buy me some condoms
On a Wednesday morning in June
My girlfriend had made me a promise
And we were meeting up that afternoon
For she'd noticed that in my frustration
My flat....which I kept fairly neat
Now had fingernail marks on the ceiling
And teethmarks on the toilet seat
So she promised an hour of pleasure
As pleasurable as it could be
She wanted fifty eight minutes
With the other two minutes for me
Now you folks are probably thinking
Splitting an hour like that was a crime
But in my mood of complete desperation
Two minutes seemed like a long time
So I stood in a queue in the chemist's
Hoping to be quite discrete
While the lady in front bought and paid for
Corn plasters to stick on her feet
And when my turn came I was gutted
I though 'this must be a joke'
For a gorgeous young girl came to serve me
I was wanting a grizzly old bloke
Embarrassed I picked up some aspirin
But her smile put me quickly at ease
She said as she took the box from me
'Would you like some condoms with these?'
'We have them in black, red or tartan
And ribbed ones to last a long time'
'Do you have a favourite flavour?
We have peppermint, strawberry or lime'
'Flavours?'........ I nervously stuttered
'Strawberry?.......'Is that what you said?'
'These things are to go on my winkie'
'Not between two slices of bread'
She chuckled away as she wrapped them
She'd decided on tartan and lime
And smiled as she gave me the packet
Then wished me a really good time
I dashed around home in a frenzy
The minutes were ticking away
My girlfriend was coming here shortly
For our sixty minutes of play
My clothes hit the floor in a heartbeat
I put on my condom with glee
And the first that she saw, as she opened the door
Was my tartan condom and me
She screamed as the door closed behind her
Her face like a deathly white mask
Then pointed and silently shuddered,
'What're you going to do with that flask?'
I chuckled 'It isn't a flask it's a condom'
Tartan and flavoured with lime'
With disgust she turned and departed
Walking out for the very last time
So my day of passion was stifled
I didn't make it as far as the bed
And as my condoms were lime flavour
I had them with corn flakes instead
"Remove all shackles that take away your bliss. Enjoy a blissful life " Quote by author
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Following innumerable rules,
A life of bondage we live
Copying others, trying to be same
Scared what others may think
We never lead life our way
Dressing up to please others
In our best behaviour to impress
Wanting to prove we are the best
We literally live for others
Our real self hidden behind a facade
Without a thought about its feelings
Egoistic humans still criticize us
Is it worth it? Why not be true?
Rip the rules that bind
Rip the fears that make you timid
Use your brain and live sensibly
Pave way for a much-needed change
Still a kid at heart, behaving like an adult
Wanting to cry, controlling emotions
Dressing up for society, not as per comfort
Whole life is a saga of falsehood
Our happiness and peace long forgotten
Our opinions crushed daily dying within
How perfectly we copy others
Determines our success in life
Blindly following what parents told
Without thinking why we should do
Afraid of being a laughing stock
We lead an unintelligent life
Why not be your true self
Live for your inner bliss
Same inside out, no masking
Am sure many would follow
All are stifled from within
Wanting a solution but scared
Why not be brave and lead
Many would be thankful to you
Look at animals, no rules to obey
They live for self not for others
Enjoying every moment of existence
Much we can learn from surround
Our life is short, anytime it can end
Still we bother so much about world
Scriptures say we are not body but soul
We just don't bother to find out more
A puppet to senses and world
Is this right way of living?
So many things that we need to rip
To see the truth and be truthful
We have to tear the illusion that we are body
We need to tear our egoistic tendencies
Tear all our desires that rob us of our peace
See soul, live for soul and God and inner joy.
27.06.2021
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bhagvad Gita 2.11: The Supreme Lord said: While you speak words of wisdom, you are mourning for that which is not worthy of grief. The wise lament neither for the living nor for the dead.
Contest Name: LET ER RIP #3
Sponsor : John lawless
Turtle heard that Salt Woman was on the road again, and he was
wanting a taste of her. Some miles from Cochiti, he stopped
for directions at a Speedway gas station.
The dwarf who ran the garage could not speak, but Turtle
using the language of Sandhill cranes put a spell on him,
making him dance directions. The dwarf’s jerky movements
became more fluid as Turtle urged him to relate more of the
Salt Woman.
In these parts, Salt Woman had a rep. She traveled
with a wooden puppet that she called her grandson.
When she came to a pueblo she would ask for food for
the boy. Some villages offered her food from the communal
storehouse, and she would bless their store with her tears,
while her grandson grew green leaves on the top of his wooden
head, but in some pueblos the mayor would refuse to offer
anything. Salt women would then turn the children of the village
into chaparral jays.
Turtle figured that the garage dwarf was just a fool, but he knew
that a salty woman was worth finding, and so he drove on following
her trail. Sure enough he found her in a bar in the Acoma
settlement known as Sky City.
Her grandson was with her. Turtle took a good look at Salt Woman.
She was not young, her face was lined, but her hips were as round
as fat babies, her belly dimpled, rosy, and delectable. The wooden
child’s eyes opened wide as he watched Turtle walk up to the bar.
Turtle was looking fine in his rhinestone studded jeans, his tan ruby
fringed shirt and his white, eagle-feathered Stetson.
Ordering tequila, he turned to the woman.
"Will you give me one of your tears, mother"? He asked.
"I have a thirst that can only be cured by a greater thirst".
Salt Woman looked at Turtle:
"And what will you give me in return"?
"I will share my salt with you," turtle replied honestly.
"The same as any man then," she said with a curling lip.
"Yes mother, but my salt will make you younger,' turtle lied.
Turtle will promise anything for sex, in this he is no better
than most men.
Salt Woman laughed out loud, yet a teardrop of sadness fell into
Turtle’s tequila. In a flash Turtle drank it down, grabbed hold of
the boy transforming him to a crane, then he took Salt Woman
upstairs where they tasted their thirst – again and again.
Strange nights, starry eyes
a little something to keep me going
no I don't lack in surprise
or modesty
and yet if honesty was a commodity
I'd surely be rich and living it up
or dead in a ditch for never giving it up
and you just don't quit
pry away the drink from my hands
and take a sip
never seen anyone
bite anything
the way that you bite on your lip
I don't know what you're looking for
but you won't find it in me
a compliment, a shred of decency
a night of thrills and secrecy
a shoulder to cry on
or just something to ride on
no, you won't find it in me
Got no money, no worries
don't sell drugs
never felt the need
not a pick me up
or shake you down
nothing changes when I'm around
no I don't want you
and you don't want me
Living life like a grazed knee
the pain is always there it stings
something always has to rub up on me
so if another stained garment
is what you want to be then, darling
pick away at my layers
I can never seem to heal
but I go on like nothing hurts me
and it could be worse
you could be just another verse in my poetry
and the night isn't over yet but
you've just about heard enough I bet
I don't know what you're looking for
but you won't find it in me
a friend for the night, a happy ending
a story to tell your girls, a heart for mending
someone to rely on
or just something to ride on
no, you won't find it in me
Got no money, no worries
don't sell drugs
never felt the need
not a pick me up
or shake you down
nothing changes when I'm around
no I don't want you
and you don't want me
Still relentless in your advances
but I can't take any chances
I'm susceptible to heartbreak
why do you think I'm sat here drinking alone?
unlike you I haven't looked down at a phone
I've no one to call, I've nowhere to be
if you're wanting a simpleton that's not me
I'm not offering late night comfort calls
I don't even own a settee
are you my therapist now?
too many questions are detrimental to trust
and I think you've just about heard enough
I don't know what you're looking for
but you won't find it in me
won't pick you up, won't shake you down
won't show you a good time and stick around
I'm not your wings to fly on
or just something to ride on
no, you won't find it in me
Owen Kucharski found himself inside
of a rather awkward situation,
all because of a women that he saw
every few days for adult ‘recreation.’
Her name was Laura, and he had met her
when they’d both drank too much at a bar,
she was in her mid-thirties, very pretty,
and had said,”My place isn’t that far!”
It had been a very impressive night,
and three more times to her house did he go,
then one night a friend whispered to him
that his friends-with-benefits was a widow.
Owen learned Laura’s husband had been a cop,
killed in the line-of-duty just last year,
and the he was her way of distracting
herself from the grief and the tears.
He couldn’t blame her for wanting a break,
a mind could not always be doom and gloom,
but he was annoyed when her family sneered
that he 'knew the way to her bedroom.'
And it wasn’t like it was a serious thing,
they agreed he would not spend the night,
it was just relief for a woman in pain,
a meaningless but needed spot of light.
Besides, he doubted she’d go for him,
he owned a pawn ship on the red-light streets,
totally legit, he always followed the law,
but was still looked down on by society.
The wife of a hero never would deign
to be serious with a man like himself,
so he took what he got, convinced that she
was just using him until she got well.
They had their fun seven more evenings,
and the rumors had started to fly,
it came to a head one warm Friday night
when Laura asked if he could swing by.
He walked brooding, down towards her house,
a stew of problems distracting his mind,
as he drew near he heard loud chanting
and looked up, shocked at what he did find.
Two-dozen protestors stood outside her house,
screaming boatloads of obscenities,
supporting the man who shot her husband,
who was in prison for his sentencing.
They declared that her husband had framed
their ‘hero’ because of his dark skin,
they offered no proof, nor seemed to care,
that the criminal had started the thing!
That he had opened fire on the cops
during a drug-deal that had gone wrong,
didn’t event enter into their minds
as they sang out their loud protest songs...
CONTINUES IN PART II