Long Zest Poems

Long Zest Poems. Below are the most popular long Zest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Zest poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Month End Madness

Panting, running, paying, fuming,
Bumping, swearing, hurrying, driving,
All because today is the thirty first
Of the month, why are we all nigh to burst!
Got to buy groceries, go the butcher
The dry cleaners, the florist, the baker,
Did i turn on the slow cooker?
Have guests coming at 8.00p.m still
On the road, home in 15 minutes – phone Will,
Darling, Did you collect the birthday cake,
There is a big accident, traffic hectic won’t make
It to pick it up – Yes sweetheart I have
Drive carefully the roads are crazy,
Looks like a storm brewing, weather drizzly and hazy.
As I arrive in our driveway it pours with rain,
And I drop a packet, which had the red wine, I stain
My clothes and the car seat, go have your shower,
Hubby says, relax, everything is under control, 
Turned shower taps to their full strength and power
Exhausted, let the water run over my naked body
Till I feel refreshed, get dressed in my 
Sexy black number,
And come downstairs, hubby gives me a wolf whistle,
Just wait till the guests leave he says, look at him 
From under my lashes!
The aroma wafting from the stove is 
Provocatively divine!
And next to the sofa is a glass of room 
Temperature red wine.
Table is set, arrange flowers I brought in a vase,
Immediately, the bell goes ding dong, 
It’s Cherry and Tim,
She couldn’t wait to show me her engagement ring,
Hot on their heels are Susan and Barry,
He has just asked Susan to him marry,
And last of all my twin sister Rina, arrives she’s wise,
With her new boyfriend in tow she bellows, Hi guys!
Fun was had and wine was drunk 
Laughter abounded in the lounge and dining room,
We all forgot how tired we were and 
It was end of the month, and all the media forecasted,
Was doom and gloom!
It was my birthday, turning forty, no turning back now,
Don’t regret a day of my life, bless the day I took my vow,
Happy birthday dear Mary, happy Birthday to you,
I felt blest had my hubby and sister present and select 
Friends but few,
Mellow and happy and with certainly no one drunk,
Just four happy couples full of zest and funk!
Our guests began departing, in twos they left,
I slipped of my shoes and gave a big yawn,
Will picked me up, and must have undressed
Me – for all I remember is waking up to a peck
On my cheek,
And a scrumptious breakfast in bed,
I always knew I had picked the right guy to wed!
Form: Rhyme


40th Marathon For 70 Year Old

40th Marathon For 70 Year Old

Almost in disbelief, I reread the headline of this one particular online piece of news….
A 72-year-old Retiree Just Ran His 40th New York Marathon, screams the title of this news…

Reading on, Dave Obelkevich, he has done the most consecutive New York City Marathons…
For his 40th milestone run, he professed his training has been less than ideal ahead of this marathon..

For this sprightly distance runner, even a hamstring injury and a calf injury were no deterrent…
He aims to again complete the world’s largest race, this hugely popular New York Marathon run..

“I won’t run fast but I know I can finish”, he simply declares soundly  his mission in this latest marathon…
Being realistic, he hopes only to finish within a set time to extend his streak of finishing marathons……

The visuals that backed up this news article showed runners amassed in numbers, nothing fake…
Of all shapes and sizes, the news article did state, runners local and foreign, they are here to participate.

Smiles aplenty, hands waving and high fives were in ample evidence of how times have changed…
From little band of dedicated runners to one of a huge big family of athletes and of amateurs….

Reading on, Mr Dave kindly elaborated, today the runners are in running more  for the finish…
A great many more are there just to be in the running,  never mind how you finish, so long as you finish…

I could feel the exhilaration and the stupefying elation of a successful run  should I be there to finish…
I should think the exhaustion pales in comparison to the euphoric sensations when the run is finished..…

After 40 marathons and miles after miles of pounding the tarmac, Mr Dave is still a sensation…
With his spirit, zest and thirst for marathon runs yet unquenched,  he awaits for  the next edition..

How I wish one fine day, I too can meet Mr Dave the Marathon veteran of 40 New York Marathons…
Like he said, everyone wish to be there and to take in the sights while running the NY Marathon… 

I know  I will not be able to keep up with such a running veteran, never mind his ageing years…..
But just to run beside such a veteran over a distance, wow, what a privilege to be there….


Just a tribute to a genuine running man
http://www.star2.com/people/2015/11/03/a-72-year-old-retiree-just-ran-his-40th-new-york-marathon/

Premium Member In the realm where indigo flames are chased by the whims of wind

In the realm where indigo flames are chased by the whims of wind,
The horizons have learned to spare my soul the thread of pain.
For the first time, of love I croon, a minstrel's virgin strain,
From tempests of discord, I retreat, in tranquility's refrain.
This inaugural chant of love, echoes pure without disdain,
For I swear off the brawl, in love's gentle domain.
Where once I stood, a rust-worn grove, static, stark, alone,
Rushing to women and vodka's call, a raucous, rampant drone.
No more do I crave the bitter swig or the gambler's eager tone,
To squander life on trivial plays, in reckless zest overblown.
The thirst has waned for liquid vice, and from dice's call I've flown,
The mirth of wasteful life is lost; to sober thought I've grown.
In silence vast, it's enough to gaze, upon your lofty eye's domain,
To watch the sky in your orbs dance, and forget all former bane.
And by your side, to forget the past, that you may never again roam,
That in the face of bygone shadows, you'll find with me a home.
Erasing every trace of yesteryears, that you may never by your leave,
No other's call shall you heed, in this new magic weave.
You tread so lightly, my precious smile, if your heart but knew the void,
How a rogue can love with fervent zeal, by fierce passion overjoyed.
How a libertine, once untamed and wild, can become so demure and coy,
His heart can surge in dutiful tide, a reverent, tender employ.
To fathom a reprobate's tender care, and see him humbly deploy,
The love that in his depths were hid, now in sunlight's gleam and joy.
The tavern's lure, forever lost, would evade my restless feet,
Poetry's verse would mean naught if your cold arms were my retreat,
And if I could touch those frost-kissed arms, and your autumnal hair so sweet.
Let me feel the chill of your embrace, fall's flowering guise complete,
To know the softness of your skin, in the fallen leaves' deceit,
As if touching the season's finale bloom, so delicate, so fleet.
Eternally I'd follow you upon this Earth's expanse,
Distance would shift to trivial space, with each tender glance.
For the first love I sing a tune, a soft, untried advance,
From the tempests of old I part my way, giving peace a chance.
Again, of love, a newfound song - with sweet, melodious cadence,
First time away from strife I sway, in love's echoing resonance.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member In magical verses weave your fated heart's request

In magical verses weave your fated heart's request,
With metaphors holding the shy choir of light abreast,
When hearts corroded by hatred in barrenness rest,
And chains of thought whip gently the gentle flight's zest.
If you are to regain control once more,
When friends of yesteryear were but a lore,
Whose drab garments through time emphatically wore,
But forgiveness you've secreted from its core.
And if in hope you can stand upright,
Not raising armor before the liar’s project slight,
When rage whispers edicts as if to indict,
Melt it in calm, with spirit bright.
Show the world whole your portrait fair,
No masks, no regret, laid bare,
And if you dream of deep breaks in despair,
May you not become in others' lives a dismal seer.
When eternity throws its cold shadow in your corner's crease,
You should gaze with eyes that do not buckle under time’s caprice.
Every living moment in time's palm surely will not cease,
On the heart's scale, they demand to be released.
If you can listen when the truth is spoken,
Alien and shifted in a world that's been broken,
And to persist through the common lies outspoken,
To find faith beneath the frothy spray's token.
If you dare face decay’s embrace without dread,
Avoiding the gilded pleasure's feigned spread,
And in autumn whispers feel your stern fall ahead,
In the poverty of a sky that once display had fed.
Risk carrying on the die heavy, precious pearls,
Wager all that you've got for a fleeting twirl,
And then, whoever you are, learn not to hurl hopes like chaff,
Your failures become a path leading to something more sacred, more daft.
Endure, in a feeble body, remorse and persistence,
Wearing a smile as a shield, melting the tormenting ice of existence.
Cherish the moment that remains in unending instance,
With a soul lined in armor's silent resistance.
If you can fill the silences in empty spaces,
When shattered times speak with yesterday's faces,
Replenish them with fresh sparks among the disgraces,
Then you will build from seconds, unbroken traces.
And the Earth shall through you be magnified,
And all that writhes in its infinite tide,
And in this great shaken, you'll uncover as scribed,
That you're a whole man, not just a soul that's been pried,
Not part of the herd whose times have dried,
But master of the strength from your own dream derived.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Escapism

I remove my glasses to blur my view, 
of my disgraceful face, that’s painted a strange hue.
Reality peers back at me, from the bottomless
shallow mirror, 

My self peers back at me, 
with disbelief, regret and horror.

I remove my glasses so that I cannot see, 
that which I’m not and that which I’ve wanted to be.
I close my eyes, so I’m now in a trance, 
of an alternate universe, a new theme, 
a new life, a new romance.

I remove my glasses and put them aside, 
and think back to better times, waiting 
for my pain to subside.
But as I shuffle through my memories, relief - 
I cannot seem to get,
because the past is filled with insurmountable regret. 

I remove my glasses and put them in their case 
and reminiscence about my beliefs, the dreams I used to chase.
But all this sorting reveals only mistakes, 
mistakes, mistakes, mistakes 

Oh, so many mistakes…

I remove my glasses because it’s time to sleep, 
I wrench today’s goals from the thought bubble, 
and discard them into the unachieved heap.
As I sink to the bottom of the bed at the end of the day I've fought, 
I plummet into the depths of my innermost thought, 

that preaches ‘useless’, ‘ worthless’, ‘hate’
that preaches ‘loser', ‘ugly’, ‘ late’
that dictates my action  and my inaction, 
that dictates my speech and my silence.

And as I lose myself to the seduction of rest, 
I try to revive in me, an anticipation for the morrow - 
a dying and hopeless, bedridden zest.

The sun will bring with it, a new day, 
the day will begin coffee, sticky notes, 
in the same old unaccomplishing way.
I will remove my glasses to blur my view, 
I will remove my glasses to disillusion myself, 
I will remove my glasses to remove myself
to a new fantasy, a new retreat, a new game.

I will remove my glasses to feed my escapism,
and let the footsteps of my desires lead me into a new daydream, 
of wonder, success and fame.

But still, 
I can hope. 
And still,
I will hope, 
that the morrow is not barren of new opportunities.

But still, 
I can pray.
And still, 
I will pray, 

that the morning air instils a new confidence, 
in me, as, from my lucid dreams, I wake,
in me, who limps behind the forerunners of the race. 

For there is life to be loved, and life to be lived, 
and mine is a future in the making, 
a future to face.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Dreamer and the Dreamed

"as an entity in the dream we conjured
we know not we are both the dreamer and dreamed
how then may we wake up when we are in trance
in bondage to illusions we ourselves stream" ~ Unseeking Seeker 

D r e a m s
when draped by the dreamed,
connected to the inner consciousness,
is a manifestation~
of etched m a g i c,
composing songs of the soul,
tied to the heartbeat of the Universe,
letting awareness be the curator,
no longer a victim of fate,
but rising as the artist that paints~
peace and harmony,
from pristine pigments,
through blissful brushstrokes,
to recreate a landscape of love,
oblivious to the illusions
that veil our visions with vanity,
confining us to caves
of perplexed perspectives,
with hazy hieroglyphics engraved
in superficial gold
from Cleopatra’s jewels.

And I trace lifelines amidst moon-rays,
grasping the luminous light,
laced with enlightened beams,
waking up from lucid lies.
My thoughts have long floated amongst
brushing off salt-soaked blues
that soaked my skin in oceanic mists~
surreal sea-urchins
that whisper manipulative mantras,
anchoring me to an abyss
that floats with nothing but darkness…
I see through the marine mirage,
the truth that no longer
is trapped in euphoric melodies,
luring me to dance and dwell in delusions,
as if I am a victim of my own thoughts.

So I close my eyes,
let my mind wander through electric fields,
designed to resurrect
the sleeping stars adrift
in my veins, lost in material longing,
blind to the seraphic glows
floating through the air~
Tonight, I taste flavors of freedom,
to attain eternal nirvana,
unchained from hypnotic reveries
that dared not unravel
colors of clarity,
and spices of zest and zeal,
engrossed in mindfulness
that emanates candle-lit flames of truth,
illuminating twilight skies
with dreams drawn
from fingertips of f a i t h,
seeking spiritual clues
to conquer cosmic castles,
detached from the deceptive dreams
we’ve spun with greed and apathy…
For we are;
the dreamer and the dreamed,
the lyricist and the lyrics,
the poet and the poem,
the painter and the palette 
the musician and the melody.
We rise and soar
across celestial gardens,
absorbed by the light,
silencing conflicting cadence~
within inner chaos,
forever adorned in sanguine stillness.

Courtesy Viz Gnatty Thrip Pest

Courtesy viz (g)natty Thrip Pest...

This client (Matthew Scott)
availed himself at behest
of following counselor
who bares his chest
to Stephanie Dodds
(maid 'n USA name)

taught technique to minimize
ruffling feathers lest
the missus aggrieved
spending her nest
egg, thus self and missus

live destitute oppressed
as two basket of deplorables stressed
nearly every day envisioning
castles in air pipe dreams
when getting undressed

preparatory to dreams
within illusory shut eye
yours truly dons fancy vest
believe me you sold by Kanye West.

DEAR MAN skills
(feeble attempt more daunting
versus scaling Mount Everest)
embraced with zest
supported and blessedly underwritten
by loan granted from Univest

Bank ohm my dog to mitigate electric
resistance while no resistance
against kool psychological aid acid test,
whereby this husband espoused,
to help him recharge, (re:volt if necessary)...,
which endeavor now poetically expressed

concerning contentious gripe(s),
she would concur challenges we contest
beat within mine (possibly her) breast
unavoidable series of parallel events
disallows me to experience respite
as ye correctly guessed

impossible mission until
death do me part heavenly blessed,
meanwhile to maximize insight woke
involving DEAR MAN skills
with following example I attest
triggered food for thought

countless years gone by, no jest
which behavior even
eldest daughter did detest
specifically oft time ebt -
Electronic benefit transfer
i.e. food stamp money addressed

when wife spent lion's share
in one fell swoop, I did level best
to communicate while pride
hide hid ingest, wife acquiesced
yet without fail repeated offense
whereby mister diplomacy here

explained (with diminishing patience)
allocated funds sole comestible expense
then included four family members
issue got heated more emphatically
groused at my sidelined request
invariably spiking discourse

else... I threatened to divest
and stow card in wallet (mine),
yet invariably relinquished said item,
perhaps first will and testament bequest
if imposed, enforced, adhered...
would have nipped in bud

finding yours truly less obsessed,
nee furious every month
the vicious drama cycled
smoldering resentment did crest
into shouting tense match,
thus body electric lamely fleshed.

Absence of Your Presence In My Life Woke Sadness

An email written to eldest daughter
December 28th, 2019,
which unwittingly, magically, accidentally...
resurfaced while scrolling
thru outdated emails 
and OpenOffice documents of mine
thee evening of February 20th, 2022.

The remaining lines 
comprising reasonable poetic rhyme
sent to said offspring
more than two plus years ago
and dada feels grief no more, cuz time
heals all wounds. 

Papa unexpectedly overtaken with woe
flashback shook me complex edifice
head, shoulder, knees in to toe
quietly processing silent film status quo
shant upended jollity
between when a little girl no
matter mine nonconformist
mien unconditionally accepted,

ye dear daughter(s) don't know
sudden onset of anguish ho... ho... ho
holiday cavorting accentuated as
charade, facade, masquerade fueling ego
particularly Santa with the Misses,
and her sharp faux claws
keeping warm while
temperature five below.

No matter most every detail
I accurately gauge to attest
your life bustling
chock full o' zest
withheld, no doubt emotions
smolder within your chest

and kudos to thee lovely offspring
(both) packed bags
and headed out west
twas honorable duty, though now...
papa feels like
an unwanted guest
thee survived, albeit psyche bruised,

undergoing the electric
kool aid acid test
laughter when playing
Mancala, Uno, Sorry, et cetera,
how dada predictably did jest
when table turned,
I (spoiler Craigslist curb alert)

willingly, lovingly, and blithely
lost desire to win quest
to dispose cards, game
pieces, and/or glass beads
invariably other occasions
ye long since left (as thee must)
me and mother with an empty nest.

Nothing more doth
Matthew Scott ask or desire
then to delight and bask
as well educated hire
swimmingly how thee
learned to acquire

confidence and multitasking,
while I trod thru much
psychological muck mire
oft times (like now)
experiencing financial straits dire,

linkedin to when only youngster fire
within me belly to joie de vivre
peter out and prematurely expire
and yours truly reckons nothing
can change the past aghast being

deprived a marshmallow
at long ago time sharing campfire
with shortcomings scalding,
killing, crimping relationship,
courtesy lack of income 
rendered paternal bond disastrously dire 
doth now conclude another poetic wire.

The Personal Trainer

husband 
didn’t pay attention when she started to change her look,
after all, she’d been saying how she wanted to for a while &
it seemed to make sense,
what with her going back to the gym full time,
after a period of time away
when they first had been married---
husband just went about his days
working more hours than he knew what to do with,
business was good &
with all the business around him seeming to fail,
he’d been putting away for the life he imagined in the future,
with or without 
her---
but her time spent at the gym seemed to increase &
thought her body began to get trimmer, sexier, tighter, stronger &
she seemed to walk around the house with a new zest for life
(when he was there to see her),
he still didn’t notice that
the personal trainer had moved in---
she had said something to him,
but he was listening less & less
as he had more & more to worry about at work,
for it was all part of building his empire.

the personal trainer was a less successful man
by the standard that money can by,
but he listened to her
as he traced her curves with his fingers in the gym
with palms of his hand smoothly gliding over her muscles
making her body quiver &
it wasn’t long before in the car outside the gym
they consummated the professional relationship
again &
again &
again &
again.

as she began to show less interest in sex with her husband,
he wrote it off as a side-effect of marriage &
found himself a main squeeze on the side,
a 20 something who needed money to get her through college
with a perkiness that made him feel young again &
a body that wouldn’t quit---
as he grew more distant from the wife,
she grew closer to the personal trainer,
until the day when she brought him home to the house,
when she swore the husband would be gone.

husband found out the way a husband will
when husband had been no longer interested 
until another shows his face, as it is only jealousy then
which kicks in, making husband suddenly care---
but personal trainer put husband on the ground
when husband came into his own bedroom
to find personal trainer banging away his bride
who now had no interest in husband---
husband sued the personal trainer for assault &
bride to be divorced husband, taking half of everything he had,
breaking his empire down to nothing 
as he had been stupid enough to not require a prenup
at the beginning of it all.

Gush-Gush Risque Albarino and Merlots

Gush Potatoes

2 cups of sour cream
5 Tablespoons horseradish
1?2 cup of white cheddar
1 Cup of grated parmesan heavy cream
3 tablespoons of lemon juice
1 tablespoon of lemon zest
1 Tablespoon of red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon of of fish stock
4 cloves of minced garlic
4 green onions
1/2 cup of minced herbs
( thyme, rosemary,, parsley, dill,oregeno and tarragon)
2 grated hard boiled egg yolks
--------------------------------------------
mix smooth set aside
in a casserole dish add 10 cups of cooked white potatoes
cover with sace mix evenly
bake 350 degrees for 35 to 45 minutes

              )---------GREENS ALLEGRO--------(
4 cups of drained cooked mustard greens
(recommended( GLORY)
2 cup of steamed bell pepper
red and yellow
2 cups of caramelized onions
3 tablespoons of minced garlic
1/2 cup of pumpkin seeds
1 cup of chopped smoked turkey meat mixed with
about 1/4 cup  of cooked bacon
1/2 cup of crushed sundried tomatoes

in a wok add olive oil and sesame seed oil mix
add garlic and peppers and onions
stri fry and add pork
1  cup of chopped ham and cooked bacon and turkey meat
add mustard greens
stir fry
add tomatoes
and top with pumpkin seeds
serve with  tart pickled onions

               )-----------> Honey, rum, Brown sugar Carrots<--------------(
                                                 ATONAL

Steam 15 cleaned carrots until tender

in a casserole dish
add the carrots
1 cup of crumbled feta
3 Tablespoons  of rum
5 Tablespoons of mango juice
3 Tablespoons of Pineapple juice
1 cup of golden raisins
1/4 cup of honey
2/3 cup of brown sugar
1/4 cup of lemon juice
1 teaspoon of cumin
1 teaspoon of cayenne
1 tablespoon of dried cilantro
1/2 cup of cooked ground lamb
1 cup of pistachios
add carrots
in a bowl
add spices and brown sugar
mix honey rum and friut juices in a sauce pan
bring to a simmer allow the alcohol
to boil away add lamb
pour over carrots
crumble feta 
attop carrots
sprinkle nuts a-top
cover with foil and bake
at 350 for 25 to 30 minutes




Adagio Meat corner
slow cooked beef
------------------------------
serve with roast lamb , roast pork, roasted beef, grilled shrimp and fish


Strawberries, kiwi, and with a vanilla bean cream pastry on a almond nut cookie tart for dessert
Paired with a Moscat de Asti
Form: Bio

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