Long Whiten Poems
Long Whiten Poems. Below are the most popular long Whiten by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Whiten poems by poem length and keyword.
There was a time when words were derived,
not slovenly crafted with prefixes.
When drain meant to let the water out.
When cast from window, meant to throw it out.
That was before the arrival of de- words
De-water means to drain, why not just drain the water out?
Defenestration is de- French for, throwing someone or something from a window
Deforestation is chopping down the trees
Decoupling is divorce, or detachment of carriage from engine.
Demystify is to remove the spook.
Departmentalise is to open the gates on open day to the silos.
Depolarise is inclusion .
Depigmentation is to bleach or whiten.
Desensitise is to get over, your touchy self.
Desalinate is to go easy on the salt-shaker.
Detoxify is to flush and cleanse.
Desertification is to water the parched fields.
Dehumanise is the demise of individuality.
Demise is goodbyes.
Come On,
Let's End the De-s
De-End
An arbitrary effigy
Enacts its own soliloquy;
Concocts a taste sensation
Fit to consternate a nation.
What's an ethical conundrum?
Sinful, existential ho-hum!
Guaranteed to whiten whiter
Never lit one cross on fire...
Yet the sugar pills create
A side effect that won't abate -
You're free to spend more time prostrate
Than one can ever stay awake.
Now your own somnolent scream
Conducts a constant marching theme;
Reverberates the eight of Rome
As sifting sand toward sunken home...
If as you glance up at the sky
You still sense wonder from on high -
If with every labored breath
You'll glibly force another step -
Seek some meaning midst these words
Although the cadence is absurd:
NeVeRmInD tHe BuRnInG;
ThAt JuSt MeAnS iT's WoRkInG!
When bombs fall
The defense minister of Israel threatens to bomb
Lebanon back to the stone age
Last time a person said this his name was Hitler
If, the nice-mannered Putin had said this about
Ukraine, the otherwise polite Guardian with the
intrepid Marina Hyde would be in righteous rage,
followed by Jonathan Freeman saying that the
the remarks were taken out of context.
Our Jonathan is an intellectual who speaks softly
and has a great vocabulary
I read in a newspaper about the German migration
began 200 years ago to whiten the country
Having been to Brazil many times, I can't say if
the writing was successful, except for the chandler
whose first name was Hans and had red hair
Muslims leaving France because they cannot wear
the hijab, one notices they are not going to
say Pakistan, but to other western nations, that
allow wearing religious symbol
As for orthodox Jews, they were black coats
and fetching black hats, the enlightened skull caps
they also ignore the dress code
There are many Muslims in France the right-wing politicians wouldn't mind if they all left
I combed cool waters of your baby blue
crystalline Jewel as you waded waterfall
waves washing my stellar rainbow rays
arching it melted into the warm womb
of transducing tangoing Earth
Her Violet Flame devoured us both
as nectared dewdrops to fuel the fire
our soma swirling into ecstatic orange
oxytocined crane flowers whispering
wisdoms to a hundred yellow butterflies
fluttering and flirting
They circled a sunken Atlantean apex
atop where you ruled anew with Baconian
brown locks surrounded by sirens serving
savoury silver sardines, oolite oyster shells
sang solos as dolphins dived, oceanic mouthed
In Ancient Egypt you followed my runcinate
rulings or indigo sorrow siglums, sighing
becoming slimmed seeker who served
Thoth well whilst wreathing my wounded
worthiness and fallow fallopian tubes
at pyramidal plumed midnight hour
In our Grecian lifetime you draped alabaster
urns lighting my marble mantelpiece
I watched breath enter your nebulae nostrils
as you crafted provincial proverbs instructing
slaves to whiten your garb with lemons from
our sculpted garden
On lavender Celtic hills we exchanged kilts
not knowing whose waist was whose
barefoot we flaunted sleek sharp sapphire
studded swords dancing necessary wild wars
Who remembered and who forgot
where in ether our nestling niche napped
as games of betrayal, fear or doubt
doubled into involuting circles and spirals
each tried to neck THE VOID as naked
excuse for not excavating heaving Heart
How much escaping, escapades, evolutionary
clocks cloak our cusps or cues or custard
synchronicities
how many summer summit starlings must
seek to sing of sorrow or of wolves, withering
willows, watermelons on this Planet of
coloured curriculums
holding dear our distinctive designs where
lacy lament is but another aperture into Space
I seek not to know !
April and the clocks forward spring,
our cricket practice gets in full swing.
Nets to untangle from their poles,
players to call and enrol.
Gang mowers to grease and oil,
the team kit-bag to disembroil.
Green stained pads to whiten bright,
fixture lists to expedite.
Mend the sight screen's rickety panels,
coax another season from my flannels.
Wash and iron the umpire's coats,
the score-box to creosote.
Tea urns to scour,crockery to rinse and clean..
a team captain's tasks routine,and unseen.
Cricketers good,indifferent,unsung,
across this land in a timeless sport played for fun.
skyscrapers stealing the sky
pavements stretching far and wide
rivers of steal flowing in and through
an asphalt jungle, yes it's true
factorys whiten the once blue sky
billows of smoke floating way up high
a weed in a garden of glass and steel
a necessary evil for those who build
away on the out skirts houses and schools
children need education and need to know the rules
here and there you see a church
and a liquor store
depending on the mood
the people choose a door
built into the establishment
worker ants and worker bees
secreting signals and doing the hustle
follow the instructions and god save the queen
and this is our everything
our hopes, lives and dreams
what we have achieved
after believing
a civilization
the american bad dream
Form:
Forgiveness — is the quiet Choice —
To lay the Thorn aside —
Not saying — “It did not wound” —
But again — “I have survived” —
It does not crown the Injurer —
Nor whiten what was done —
It frees the Hand that carried Pain--
When Vengeance weighed a ton —
Forgiveness — is a soft Release —
A Door unlatched — at last —
Where Memory may still reside —
But Chains — are in the Past —
It asks no Pardon of the Scar —
Nor haste — to make amends —
It simply lets the Sufferer
Step forward — not pretend —
Forgiveness — is the brave Consent
To live — unarmed — yet whole —
And trust that Light — however late —
Still recognize— the Soul —
My only true love Betsy and, I are away for a day out down by the sea shore
Both of us holding hands, I am with a lass, I am sure I will love forever more
The innocence in her laughter, as we draw our names and hearts in the sand
Taking me far away from the troubled hell, I’ve seen in a far and distant land
Where within the wetted green grass - lies a ground soaked all in bloody red
Thousands upon thousands of my fellow man all piled upon each other dead
These deaths leave a silence - that is more than deafening on my closed ears
As the mist of the mustard gas clears yet still stings my eyes brought to tears
Each face of the dead leaving behind an expression either of torture or peace
Lives given for their country now lie upon the rubble mounds of soil & grease
Each face whiten beyond the pale, photos of loved ones trodden in the shale
As back home the M.O.D write the dreaded words put their letters in the mail
But here I'm with Betsy on our own beloved sea shore, innocence beautified
As far as possible, I keep her from the brutality of our young men’s genocide
As I listen to her laughter, as I look into her eyes of the lightest emerald green
It all helps to take away the horrors of a bloody war I wished I had never seen
I am going to marry my beloved Betsy, have beautiful children, three, or four
But never as in never, will I tell my children of the brutality of this bloody war
I've constructed a picket fence around me to keep jackanapes out
Through pickets they can see me, but I never allow them to touch
private parts of me I keep concealed, and don't talk about so much
I keep whitewashing my fence, cleansing it from things left in doubt
When my boards become exposed to prying eyes that shouldn't see
I open another bucket of watered-down paint and reach for a brush
to cover the flaws, my faults within, and I am always in such a rush
to whiten and brighten the facade out front. The veneer veiling me.
There is a gate with well-worn hinges, but usually it's kept locked
to prevent invaders who would dare trespass on my every thought
Those who'd despoil my fence with graffiti and rip my boards apart
Hence, one reason why I keep a supply of whitewash well-stocked
I am the prismed reflection of my surroundings, including my fence
where no webs shall arachnids weave within my weathered boards.
I will apply a coat of whitewash to my palisade as the need affords
It is a beachhead between me and crawlers; my penury of defense
Twining around my picketed railings, grows a vine of climbing roses
The virtuous blooms are never cut to prolong each inculpable stem
They shroud malevolent fingers pointed at me that would condemn
I shrive every foible and failing that my whitewashed fence encloses
May 28, 2023
W T F Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
(poem version/unedited - first look at my future writing projects)
Doors will open soon
Love is a hidden treasure
Doors will close...oh joy!
Ascend, self-esteem!
Lift me higher than the clouds
The clouds overhead
Hey? Give me your all!
Hit me with your best shot, man - - -
We need to stand tall!
The clouds overhead
Shed droplets of blue lament . . .
Sunshine's near, pour clouds!
~!@#$%^&*()_++_)(*&^%$#@!~
Sunshine's near, pour clouds!
Relieve gloom of Yesterday's tomorrow
Cheer up, whiten up! Relieve the gloom of our sorrow...
Cheer up, lighten up! There's more hope to borrow
Let the sun rays warm your soul . . .
Disconsolate clouds
My self-esteem's low
Who ruined my self-esteem? Oh...
No! It can't be you!
Is it you?
Disconsolate clouds
Why do you weep bitterly?
Do you need a FRIEND?....
Why do I feel blue?
Arise like the sunrise, please?
Have high hopes with me!!
Do you need a friend for real?
Clothe you w-with hope, not sheer fear
Cheer up, brighten up!
Cheer up, listen up!
Elevate me with sheer cheer!
Grab the Rope of Hope========
Hey? I welcome you
No! Don't bid me a farewell !
You're good company!!
Good riddance, sorrow
Attitude of Gratitude . . .
Tomorrow draws near
You erased my fearz
I'm feelin' like I belong
Smile with sunlit glee with me!