Long Wraths Poems
Long Wraths Poems. Below are the most popular long Wraths by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wraths poems by poem length and keyword.
Rumors abound
All around town
Lily White
Needs a knight
She is tangled
Being wrangled
By the tricky trees
Planted by Peacocks from Leeds
Wolves are down under
Hearing wraths thunder
Drinking Burnley claret wine
Getting ready to do second tier time
In comes the Hammer girl
Wearing expensive pearls
Bought using Gallo credit
Wondering, ‘will anyone get it?’
Message, ‘relegate’
Easier opponents await
Fans will have reason to cheer
Dousing the same expensive beer
As players work on maturing skills
Crunching numbers, paying the bills
Oh yes, who is going to get dropped
Commentating, ‘our season truly was a flop’
Officially closing the show
Taking the athletic production to parts unknown
Goal now ‘will want to come back’
Claiming healed healthy, surviving a relegation attack
Seductions of Sin
With the lusts of the world:
do I thee; threaten more?
Is this what the world has to offer;
since its originated defiance?
That set the scene for this world;
to attest and set afire,
for the rest of 'sin' to complete with such desire!
The call is strong in sin here:
am I too weak;
to resist such pleasurable temptations!?
Is it that, vainglory, do set in from the laws of God,
do I shame myself for the dishonor to self-control?
That 'sin' of the lusts now turns to otherworldly desires;
that the dark spirit brought to surmount humanity!?
Voracity, of man for the embellishing of the world,
is it glamorized in thy eye?
Being envious of what others do have;
only does it dispassionate me too?
And does, avidity, bring on our destruction;
from the wraths and vainglories of man?
I have a chance to survive when darkness has swallowed up;
the virtues that have been set out in front of humanity?
To battle, the end, when that day does it come;
is to bring great sorrows upon the world?
Escape from thunder and lightning,
Remain or stay in safe shelter;
And if you are out on the street,
Hurry up and run for cover.
Don't get out of the house at least
Half an hour after the last sound;
Stay inside the building until
The risk is nowhere to be found.
Keep away from powerful stuffs
Like computers and corded phones;
Never be in direct contact
With these electricity zones.
Avoid plumbing, including sinks,
As well as the baths and faucets;
Run away from frightening harm,
Evade the nature's wraths and threats.
Stay away from windows and doors,
Remain calm beneath the ceiling;
Stay off veranda or porches,
Escape from thunder and lightning.
Seeds sprout to become trees
Trees with ample green leaves
Leaves fully growing yellow
Yellow to dry under a hot sun
Sun causing the leaves to die off
Off the tree they hastily tumble
Tumbling silently wraths mother tree
Tree dismayed for losing her leaves
Leaves now lying at her foot inactive
Inactive and leaving nude the branches
Branches of mother tree cause her shame
Shame for the birds’ frantically watch
Watching powerlessly their home gone
Gone at sunset but waiting for another day
Day for seeking a new comfy home
Home of joy to host everyone joyfully
Poem by N. Mugisho
i feel you everywhere i go today
you little cherub laughing so eyes are
dancing as the butterflies capture you
as no words you need to be heard wow
a smile so tranquil that dimple in your chin
glows from within the words you wrote
stays with me as i'm understanding your own
loving self as i often wonder how such a
child could carry words across the minds of
many as you have forever painted your canvas
admired by all who has ever got the pleasure
of your rapture and those who haven't shall
endure your poetic wraths forever through the
words you have so unselfishly donated to our
hearts and our minds the mere wonder of you
for all i can feel is lucky so lucky and yet
free in my voice as i sing the phrases that
god only gives to a few of us the rest must
endure this dream world in imagination and
by simply cuddling up to one of your verses
YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN
INTERNATIONAL POET
Sisters seated by glows
Of white glistens of light
A spirit floated down
Painting the sky golden
They knew she'd never desert them
Gentle hands of ribbon
And once the ring was over
It burned through their retinas
Sober from countless memories
They let candle wax melt their epidermis
Only a picture nestled in draws
Yet flooded with reminders
The fingerprints and dusty cries
Spelt out the name of a mystery woman
Birthing two daughters, then fading
Into plains of trees which bear olives
Mists of the Adriatic Sea
Embracing her shuddering coffin
For she is but a young mother
Selling what she could for glory
To feast with lords of lustfulness
On fish from Portuguese waters
But even she was never saved
From wraths of bacterium
Tuberculosis stole her vitality
And reunited her with her offspring~
It’s weird…we are two peas in a pod…
I downloaded you like a Sims’ mod
Because you got me hooked on your looks…
You are as fascinating as a billion books…
You accept me, you don’t reject me…you are my constructive building blocks
I crawl on you like a weird-looking insect – I am curious of your peace and wraths
Or a mole on your skin, but I’d rather not see…your facial expression aftershocks
I dunno…we are independent, but I feel like…we cross paths…
My past girlfriend followed me on instagram…
And on Facebook…
And on Twitter…
And on other social media websites…
I barely got into social media when I was 30 years of age…
And I’m on many, many rampages…
Alzheimers, man, they have a way to trigger you
Into insanity…
Into a lane of vanity
To go up and down walls
Unknown to me at all
All y’all didn’t answer their calls
Don’t fall, don’t trip, stand tall
I was on snapchat when I was 47 years of age…
I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia and bipolar when I got hospitalized at age 13…
I am hard-working, but at the same time, there is nothing wrong with me…
I am pretty good for my age – I’m 97, going on 98…
I was a responsible adult, paying bills…nothing in the world is free
Nothing in this wretched world is free
Nothing in this crazy, physcho world is free
Nothing in this ever-whirling world is free
But, baby, always remember…
You were born in the month of December
Ooooh, now I didn’t lose my train of thot
Don’t I look hot? Oh wait, no hate, I lovin’ it…
I made progress and it’s exhilaratin’ and logically legit…
I may be materiasitic,
But at least I’m being realistic
I was born and raised rich
I ain’t no game glitch…
But, what goes around comes back around…
I am found, though my body, with gravity (which ain’t helping), has been bound…
Where’s my wheelchair?
Does anyone even care?
I am lying here in despair…
Help me, save me, everyone stares here
I am afraid; yet, I have no fear…
For God is here and there…
13/3/2012.
Doleful lugubrious quests feverously churn within my mind,
To quell thirst of my hunted and sought cravings consigned.
Every night and every day they scald and scorch,
Thoughts charred smothering move in and fade away, akin a blinking torch.
I seek with hankenrous desires, faux pas,
Yearn, carvel for my illusionious coveted cause.
My creased desire to be someone more,
Seems round the corner yet I keep avariciously, groping for.
As winds of change blow silently into rough seas, my ambitious dreams,
The pent up rage inside me emerges out with venomous gleam.
Their sputum wraths will spittle at what others, of me think,
Its unchained fury will ravage from sanity’s brink.
I want to free my thoughts from silo and rules,
Live life like a game, full of fun and not like laboring mules.
I have fought and succeeded to become what I am now
But I realize that that I am still not free from that yearning vow.
No moment passes when occur passive thoughts of who I will become
All the emotions I have kept caged up and kept under my frozen hum.
I keep dreaming and longing for what I should have been,
And what I should have done and what was apt for me.
Little did I realize that all the encountered impossible situations,
Were great opportunities of simple manifestations.
And sometimes we need to die a little inside,
To rise again, stronger and wiser outside.
Doleful lugubrious quests feverously churn within my mind,
I seek with hankenrous desires, of all kind.
As winds of change blow silently into rough seas, my ambitious dreams,
I want to free my thoughts from silo and rules and illusionary, imaginary themes………
contest: what's your fear?
I FEEL YOU EVERYWHERE I GO TODAY
YOU LITTLE CHERUB LAUGHING SO EYES ARE
DANCING AS BUTTERFLIES CAPTURE YOU AS
NO WORDS YOU NEED TO BE HEARD WOW
A SMILE SO TRANQUIL THAT DIMPLE IN YOUR CHIN
GLOWS FROM WITHIN THE WORDS YOU WROTE
STAYS WITH ME AS I OFTEN WONDER HOW SUCH A
CHILD COULD CARRY WORDS ACROSS THE MINDS OF
MANY AS YOU HAVE FOREVER PAINTED YOUR CANVAS
ADMIRED BY ALL WHO HAS EVER GOT THE PLEASURE
OF YOUR RAPTURE AND THOSE WHO HAVEN'T SHALL
ENDURE YOUR POETIC WRATHS FOREVER THROUGH
THE WORDS YOU HAVE SO UNSELFISHLY DONATED TO OUR
HEARTS AND OUR MINDS THE MERE WONDER OF YOU
FOR ALL I CAN FEEL IS SO LUCKY SO LUCKY AND YET
FREE IN MY VOICE AS I SING THE PHRASES THAT
GOD ONLY GIVES TO A FEW OF US THE REST MUST
ENDURE THIS DREAM WORLD IN IMAGINATION AND
BY SIMPLY CUDDLING UP TO ONE OF YOUR VERSES ENDURE
WRITTEN BY MRS YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN
6-23-2003 IN FORT MYERS FLORIDA WRITING
POETRY FOR MONTELL WILLIAMS MY SUPPORT
FOR MS. SURVIVORS I ACTUALLY WON 1999
TAMPA BAY HAND WRITTEN SUMMITTED
POEMS BY MAIL WAY BEFORE THIS ONLINE
COMMUNITY BEGAN
THIS LITTLE GUY INSPIRED HE SHOWED ME THAT BEING DISABLED SHOULDN'T STOP ME FROM WRITING POETRY HE WAS SEVEN YEARS OLD ANYONE COULD BE A POET EVERYONE HAS SOMETHING TO SAY ESPECIALLY WHEN EXPRESSING YOURSELF ABOUT YOUR OWN SELF WELL IT WAS 6-23-2004 I SAT DOWN AND SUBMITTED MATTIE IN LOVING MEMORY OF THE DISABLED CHILD POET I WON A CONTEST BUT DECLINED BEING A MOTHER A GRANDMOTHER CARRYING FOR A DISABLED CHILD I REMEMBER WALKING INTO STATES ATTORNEY MARK OBERS OFFICE THERE WAS MATTIE ON THE WALL I DIDN'T NEED ROYALTIES FOR WRITING AN INPIRATION POEM ABOUT THIS GRAND LITTLE PERSON OF WISDOW I HAD TO EDIT IT THROUGH THE YEARS DUE TO MY BRAIN INJURY
I DECIDED TO POST THIS ONE AGAIN AFTER HACKERS
DATA BREACHES FAKE AI USERS MY STALKER J JOHNSON
OBSESSED WITH MY WRITING PERPUTRATING FRAUD UPON ME
IT'S TRULY SAD I WROTE THIS 6-23-2004 IN FORT MYERS FLORIDA
WHILE WAITING FOR FBI AGENTS TO ESCORT MY FAMILY TO
GIVE STATEMENTS ON A MURDER IN TAMPA MS JOHNSON
ATTEMPTED TO END MY LIFE OVER MY POETRY
WRITTEN BY MRS YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN
REST IN PARADISE MATTIE THE DSABLED MATADORE OF POETRY
Traipsing along on old dirt paths
Struggling to avoid garden wraths
Within the maze of sinuous limbs
Whispering like soft, gentle hymns
Twisting, turning, yearning for love
Lost amid blush roses sent from above
A puzzle of joys in the green branches
Covering the heart of heavenly ranches
Homespun joys sing from the bushes
Brilliant, bold colors of crimson pushes
Touching my spirit with tendrils of leaves
Caressing a wall of blooms that relieves
Trapped by the swaying of euphoric breezes
Softly enfolding my heart’s hope so it pleases
Maze - 10 Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: A Dear Heart
June 22, 2020