Best Tall Poems
What tales your leaves must whisper
of youths tall in your strong arms.
Pretending to be pirates
in a terrible, fierce storm.
Or lovers in your shadows
making vows they sometimes kept;
dreamer's secret hideaway,
underneath leaves, young boys slept.
Many years honed your boldness,
growing taller, stronger, blest.
You were proud to play sentry
standing guard so birds could nest.
You were the featured player
in those years of grandeur past.
Years have now turned against you
and have burdened you at last.
Growing older with seasons,
branches balding, and falling.
You stand proud as you listen
to echoes and their calling.
My good friend, grand old oak tree
I will sit with you at last
We'll tell each other stories
of those days that have long passed.
April, 2020
for Wisdom from Trees Poetry Contest
by Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Campfire And Tall Tails
Friends and sons come walking into the campsite all dress in camo
from their long day’s hunt. Around the crackling campfire, they all gather
and sat to warm their much-needed cold wet bodies. Keeping warm
with a bottle of Jack Daniels or Black Velvet, and a can of Mountain Dew
being passed around.
Adding more wood to the campfire so it would last through the night.
The sons poke sticks into the embers and watching the flame spark, pop,
and dance in their sight, while others roast marshmallows
at the end of their sticks.
The men are fixing their evening meal for all to feast on.
They all gather around the campfire and sit, teasing and telling stories
of their day’s adventure out in the woods, of a long, exhausting hike
around the mountain with a vision of elk with a large crown of horns.
The stories are told big and small, of the one they saw and had in their cross- hairs, but a calf with its mother who walked in front spoiling their shot. Or a bee that stung their hand when they were ready to pull the trigger.
When they‘re all done, they crawl into their sleeping bags so, they can do it all over again the next day, watching the campfire, teasing and telling their stories.
10/29/2014
Reaching
for the stars
giganteum
ambassadors of a
lost age
Sequoia-The great ones..Inspired by Steinbeck's observation on growing up in CA
As I lie here, eyes half closed, I wonder
Why does the grass wave to me?
Has the summer breeze asked it to greet me
And if so, what does it wish to say
But I think the Chinese whispers of a thousand blades
Might confuse the message beyond recognition
Perhaps I should ask instead, the shaded underbelly of the lonesome oak,
Standing aloof mid-field
For surely he hears the same story from the breeze
And then again perhaps I have it all wrong, it's a message from the grass,
So many strands waving their message make the pleasant breeze
If that is the case then, I think I must lie here a while longer
And listen to the story they wish to tell
i done stacked up cinder blocks to build a wall,
and hid my primary colors in the dark.
i grew so tall I forgot how it felt to fall;
instead, I permit my inner child to cry.
the ticking clock gnaws away precious minutes,
meanwhile I trace the scars upon a wooden floor,
I've run out of interesting, adult things to say;
instead, I permit my inner child to cry.
wax crayons smudge against my calloused skin,
mixing with the ink of bills and unread mail.
i've grown tired of the mask and the hollow grin,
instead, I permit my inner child to cry.
i press my palms against the bathroom glass,
remembering the kid with the grass-stained knees.
I'll stay right here and just let the world pass.
instead, I permit my inner child to cry.
I stand tall like a bamboo tree,
Strong winds make my body to sway,
Storm makes me blown away,
But I still stand like a bamboo tree.
Trials and problems that I face everyday,
I have the strength to pursue it anyway,
The dreams that I have in mind,
Though it’s simple but it's one of a kind.
Insults and negative people may put me down,
On my head, I still have my precious crown,
God gave me the courage to be strong,
Like a bamboo tree it sways bravely where I belong.
I stand tall and firm with my decision,
To be successful because of my determination,
No one can destroy my aim in life, I tell you my friend,
Like a bamboo tree I survive, I can till the end.
I can catch you when you fall
From that tree of love so tall
As long as I hear you call.
Form: Diona
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
singed by sullen Sol, not stayed by Poseidon's hand;
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Impenitent, sky rains ash blackening the night.
Fire sends a smoky pall upon the sea and land,
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.
Fire eats: the air, snuffs man's breath; highlighting their plight,
all hands on deck, the Captain calls, out his command.
Aflame, aflame, tall ship burns, see their masts ignite.
Hell's inferno comes calling on this sun lit night,
foul winds blow, fire roars, and so the flames are fanned;
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.
Without their ship, crews are lost to a debtors blight.
Up the went like scarecrows shriven by the brand,
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Cinder shower catch the dock; workers run in fright.
Pain and heartache fill the wharf; still, they must disband.
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Keelmen Heaving in Coals by Night' by Turner
Published by Dual Coast 2014
When I woke, Mom, I saw a parade
right before me! I wish it had stayed.
There were drummers and clowns,
lots of colors and sounds,
but in minutes, it started to fade!
Oh my! I just saw a big bear.
He was out in the woods, I swear.
He was so big and black.
Mom, I’m not going back
not EVEN on a double dare!
A toucan was just on the phone wire.
I saw it take off, flying higher
than our parakeet!
Mom, isn’t that neat?
So why does Dad call me a liar?
Written May 8, 2016
For the Tall Tales In Short Form Poetry Contest of Casarah Nance
"Billy, it's time! Get up for school!
Your drawing project's due today.
You know about your teacher's rule;
she must have it without delay."
"But, mom, my arm is hurting bad!
There is no way that I can go.
I must stay home, though I am sad...
I'm really hurting, don't you know."
"But Billy, can you lift your arm?"
"I can't, it's painful and too sore."
So now she asked, with mommy charm,
"how high could you lift it before?"
And Billy raised his arm up tall
above his head...his face turned red!
From his warm bed, he had to crawl...
get ready quick for school instead.
Tom, do you know “THE CUNNINGHAM NEWS” is read by one and all,
The World anxiously waiting to celebrate upon hearing about Putin’s fall,
I can understand how Ukrainian deaths will dampen Ukraine’s victory call,
But winning this war with glorious hearts, their reward, to feel ten foot tall.
I Do not want a window seat .
I do not want to freeze my feet..
I do not want a waiter cat .
I do not like his pin striped hat..
I do not want him to touch my food.
And how he speaks is down right Rude..
So won't you take my order Jerry.
I know the menu, and I'm in quite the hurry..
Scrapple , egg and cheese on toast,
that is the meal I love the most..
The tall cat can have his green eggs and ham.
He's not from Philly but Sam I Am..
Beyond Tall Snowcapped Mountains, And Purple Veil
Between radiance of heart and love’s grasping rays
Are birthed memories that come as blessed gifts
Ride golden dreams join with treasures of former days
Amongst winds of hope, and what seeking soul uplifts.
Far away lies an enchanted sea, treasure great
Beyond tall-snowcapped mountain, and purple veil
Leaving far behind dark-cast vagaries of Fate
Sad recollections of a previous fearsome Hell.
Sailing beautiful waters a streaming bright blue
Under heavenly skies dreams of kisses divine
There, hand in hand stroll very content and so new
We embrace under a falling moon’s soft-flowing shine.
Years come and go, hearts bond finding our paradise
I turn to look into those enchanting blue eyes
As we both repeat our faithful love sworn vows thrice
We happily join that eternal bond that ties.
Robert J. Lindley, 8-09-2022
Romanticism
I must have been five
And my brother only four
Feeling adventurous
We explored the wooden area
A stone's throw from home
I had the bright idea
To climb that tall oak tree
It was so grand and majestic
I told my brother to stay put
I climbed up and up
Way out onto a branch
Then I had nowhere to go
Stuck I couldn’t back up
Ended up flipping over
Arms and legs
Precariously wrapped
Around a rough old branch
Looking straight up at the sky
I knew I was in trouble
When my grip got loose
And my little arms let go
I held my breath to no avail
Free falling slow motion
It was the strangest feeling
To see my little body
Flat on its back
From way up above
And hearing a deep voice
Out of my own throat
Saying to go get help
Laying there motionless
As I watched still from way above
Like never again ever in my life
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on September 20, 2017 for contest POEMS THAT PAINT A PICTURE 3 sponsored by SILENT ONE - RANKED 4TH
A tree grows tall
grows strong
braves all
the good
the bad
sometimes I'm not a tree