Long Ade Poems
Long Ade Poems. Below are the most popular long Ade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ade poems by poem length and keyword.
When I was very young
All I really wanted
To be was an Indian.
My mother always read to me -
Stories of fairies and elves,
Of princesses and ogres, witches,
And brownies who did good deeds.
Poems, “Wynken, Blynken and Nod”,
“The Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat”,
And “The Sugar Plum Tree”.
Books, Alice in Wonderland,
The Little Colonel stories, and
The Five Little Peppers.
(I wonder if my grandchildren
Have ever heard of any of the
Old-fashioned stories and poems
Which were all magic to me.)
But, most of all, I loved
Longfellow’s poem Hiawatha.
“By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining deep sea water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis…”
I hear my mother almost singing
Those magical words from
“The Childhood of Hiawatha”.
I could see Hiawatha growing up
And learning Indian ways in
The woodlands of his youth.
I wanted to live in the woods,
To learn to talk with animals
And know their secrets.
I wanted to wear moccasins
And build a birch bark canoe!
One Christmas my brother got
A cowboy suit and hat and holsters,
But I, wonder of wonders,
Got a “real” Indian dress
With designs of tiny beads,
A fringe on the skirt,
And a headband with feathers!
I told my friends I was part Indian,
That my great grandmother
Was a real live Indian!
When it got back to my mother
She just said, “What stories you tell!”
Although I outgrew the dress,
The dream stayed with me
Throughout my childhood -
Sort of wishful thinking.
I always wanted to
Be close to nature.
Much of my childhood
I spent by myself, somewhat
Of a loner, climbing trees,
Making hideouts in the woods,
Walking in streams
To “cover my tracks”.
That “Indian child” I was
Still lives on in the
Recesses of my memory.
Maybe that’s why now, “grown up”,
I love walking in the woods
Or foraging by the ocean,
Why Stalking the Wild Asparagus
Is one of my favorite books,
Why I love picking wild blueberries
And grapes and making jam, or
Digging for clams and mussels.
Why I HAD to experiment with cooking
Slipper shells and making
Seaweed pudding and “Sumac-ade”.
Of course, I realize,
As well as anyone, that
The life of an Indian was not
As idyllic as I had once believed,
But, even now, after
All these years have passed,
It appears that
My “inner Indian”
Is alive and well and
Living on Martha’s Vineyard!
The Nap Master
HAIL the astral world of utterance,
one befalls to eavesdrop whisperings of their sweet nothings,
breathlessly whisking up a spell of portioned scents that, nay,
spilled china of eddied creamed joys and demitasse gooey treats,
BEHOLD the phoenix rises to a full exalting measure,
neath a lunar ecliptic mystic hypnotic apathy,
upon a peacock's crown whose spread out azure-chartreuse wings,
adorns unsnared midst manes of an unbridled vehement trot,
ONWARD it leaped a skipped array of a vivid rainbow's path,
of free glides during its phases of warm air in a chilled sky,
as it spread o'er vast terrains of dale and vale of culled greens,
tethered to tawny treasures of teemed lives infinite mirth wants,
BEHEST of Cherubs advent of endless stars braving her crown,
on their sailed galleons of whimsical twinkling vigilance,
seducing a flock of blithe bleating lambs a respectful ride,
on fluffed souls, nursing meek minions to ripple a fair surge,
CHANNELS a righteous domain free of a distant storm,
pushed by the lashes of sunbeams citrus lemony whips,
that ade stirred mouth fulls of dryness seeking quenching,
gouging the top echelon of expecting lips full measure,
ADHERED to heart pulsates that steady the gauge of innocence,
unique mild credulity cushioned amongst penitent palms,
and tinseled charm of enamored superheroes noble acts,
save the divine a full accounting listing each wonder,
CLUSTERS of mirrors enlightened volumes of a sojourned quest
of luminous unconsciousness prominent in such a phase,
the inner realm expanse that dwells in hallowed gifted slumber,
all grouped banking muses within the treasury of their mind,
ALL delicately locked by the key master . . .
. . . their fortuitous magnitude of eyelids.
2020 February 05
YOU ARE ENTITLED TO ENTITLE THIS ONE YOURSELF
Whenever I stop to think of it
I don’t stop to think of it
I eliminate the crap, the slop and the rest of the s**t (phew, almost forgot the infantile *’s)
Did you ever think it ironic that if you take George Washington’s initials and sandwich an “I” in
the center of “G” & “W” well simply view the results
It might just be me, but I happen to think that parents, under no circumstances
Should be allowing the chances that their baby may mistake a live rattle snake for a rattle
Who is the bigger coward, propose I,
The man who wants to die and can’t
Or the man who wants to die and does?
So I’m talking to this recent immigrant from China who spoke fluent but broken English, so I
said “you know what Cum of Sum Yung Guy” I said that because that’s his name. in any
event, I said wow, some day in November I think we get a day off from work but I don’t recall
why.
Cum replied rapidly, “Because it’s ******** day”
Did you ever have a severe and urgent urge to take a lot of dynamite, stick it in your sibling’s
ear and light the fuse
But going to jail is a lost to lose
So I never did it
I often get this overwhelming feeling that I am a lizard clamped by the powerful beak of an
egret, as he tosses me from head to tail, as I pray for only one more breath of sweet Florida
air.
Actually I hate
This state
I hate Florida’s flora
And I hate it’s fauna
And I’m convinced, in mid-august, this is where Satan comes for a hellishly hot sauna ©
2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~ ok, all 3 of you can go to another poet’s page!
P.S. and I maintain, and I maintain strongly, that I believe to this very moment Jesus Christ of
Nazareth used grape Kool-Ade to change water into wine, I mean if he was the only begotten
son of God, a trick like that wouldn’t impress my mother’s aunt’s first cousin’s uncle’s twice
removed pet chimpanzee
DID YOU KNOW THAT REPEATINGS ONE’S STATEMENTS IS AN EARY SIGN OF ALZEIMER’S
DISEASE
DID YOU KNOW THAT REPEATING ONE’S STATEMENTS IS AN EARLY SIGN OF ALZEIMER’S
DISEASE
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For bloody
red steaks he’s gu
nning. His ear piercing
roar is stunning. From jungle
foliage he plans his lethal
attack. Two stories
high and his tactics
are extremely cunning.
when his prey is out of breath
he keeps right on coming. He pou
nces Brontosauruses
heards while they’re
sunning. When it comes
to getting food he’s got
the knack. The tyrannosaurus
rex likes its‘ food running. when
he plays freeze tag t-rex isn’t
funning. A fully grown camel
would be a light snack. His
stories just keep on
rerun ning.
When out on
par
ade
animals stop in their tracks.
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
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This is a problem growing in direct proportion
To the papers that we face very soon
In everyone’s speech a pronounced distortion
And half the class sleepwalking at noon
I’m here chiefly to bring to your attention
You may soon not understand us
Because I for one, others by extension
Shall be speaking nothing but Physics because
James is moving about too excited
Gerald just got so good at deduction
For the first time Andrew correctly recited
The laws of Motion, Waves and Induction
Ade seems to be wholly attracted
To Google, ChatGPT, Bard and YouTube
And we can no more get Chibuike distracted
With pics of a diva exposing her b**b
It’s hard to relate, with any of your mate
Tomorrow the Rev. will be so delighted
BGS completes old subjects one by one
Thinking at last he’s covered it all
But the next minute he sees a new ton
Resulting from but a two-minute call
Everyone speaks with uncertainty
Praying that they will be understood
The gravity is of such intensity
That Daniel just forgot how to be rude
Please do stay woke, this is not a joke
Making light of matters has never been fun
Oh, I remember things we used to say
Now everyone takes a holy stance
“Death, dishonor, football and decay”
Has never met a greater resistance
Like particles we all just follow the current
As if we’re afraid to give out the heat
Things we loved has become abhorrent
Hour by hour the cycles repeat
You won’t forget it, even if you don’t get it
We’ll be speaking Physics by the end of the day!
be-ing...........some-thing beau-ti-ful
is the song.............the ser-en-ade
Herald-ing........................our
unique-ness
origin-ality
singular-ity
alone-ness
Be-ing
a-live to
ex-press
what serves
us from all
other life
be-ing...................to-gether
in our at-trac-tion.....ex-plor-ing gra-vity
common mean-ing.......the good and cred-ible
uni-versal elements..........emanat-ing pur-pose
be-ing...the posi-tion.....scheme....rhyme...reason
be-ing..............the............grati-tude........of that
be-ing.....................the........................ARIA
reach-ing........out........note.....by......note
so...beau-ti-ful......we.......sing
January 12, 2020
Aria
NEUER THE ACHILLES
Horse power?
Let the horses keep their power
Neuer power is now the toast of all
The day all cats chose their king
It was Tiger that first wore the crown
But Lion roared, bore his fangs
And bristled up his mane like Tsunami
In a jiffy he dethroned the Tiger
Then came the king of catch-
Whose ribs are breastplates
Whose hands are magnetic tongs-
Neuer the Achilles:it was him
That shamed the lion and won the crown.
Neuer the omniform
Massive rock at duty post ;
Egal where comes the bullet:
Left, right, corner or centre;
It comes from corner,
He coils on it like a python;
It comes from centre,
He broods ball like mother-hen;
When the gunners come closer
He unfolds himself like an Ostrich taking a flight
And exclusively ward them off
Like a mother-dog chasing intruders
Away from its puppies.
Daredevil the goalkeeper
Keel that keeps the ship afloat:
It dares the oceans and shuts them out
Says cargo hold is for smile and not for tear;
In the air he is a parachute
On the ground he is yak or cyclone
Open or close the net snores
The posts say, ‘it is holiday today’
The ball says, ‘ I am on safe hands today’
Only the gunners keep gnashing their teeth
The pains of stillbirths wet their eyes
Who shall take me to Deutschland ?
Who shall take me to Bayern- Muchen?
Let him that will take me to Neuer come now
I can’t wait to meet the Archilles.
Ade Kayode Adebayo
Jan. 2014
The ground rumbles, ominously, I'm on the steep side of a Mississippi River Bluff, mid-August, gathering bursting crimson red trophies of Staghorn Sumac for my favorite sumac-ade, a spright, invigorating tonic I enjoy this time of year. The smell in the air, forest-sage beginning to dry and ripen, the bitter tang of scattered paper-birch bark chimneys...must keep alert for the origins of the earthly rumble.
The unsettled earth, sweet and bitter smells...mix with my age and I sit down as if in a trance and drift asleep...harkening back to my training as a young man in a Manhattan Bagel Deli, assembling prep-stations for the customer onslaught about to descend. Proofed bagel dough, seeded and rotating in the elevator slate-shelved oven after a frothy malt-bath in the bubbling giant kettle, delectable aromas of fairly vibrating paper-sliced spiced meats and piquant aged cheeses, briny sheets of smoked lox, pots of sweetly acidic capers and luminous heirloom tomatoes...
But I'm much older now, my mind remembers, but my body can't function like it once did, I can't perform the once-easy configurations effortlessly like before.
The rumbling, just my imagination...
I awaken, gather my bunch of fluorescent sumac, which I am still able to concoct, mindful of God's Grace in my spiritual and physical evolution...He
Has Blessed me with.
8-13-20
6:03 am
At last weave bin released from winter's frigid jaws!
Spring has sidled upon us as delicately as if on kittens' pause!
April hath drenched hour land with life-sustainin' showers,
Two ade inn springin' fourth Mae's myriad of pretty flowers.
Thee robins have returned two serenade me at brake of dawn.
Mournin' due glistens like diamonds on my emerald lawn.
Those pesky dandy-lions ad sparkle with there yellow hew,
Butt, eye'll soon rid my yard of them sew yule never gnu they grew!
Glorious son-flowers salute Sol each mourn as if too say howdy-do!
Flowers nodded too there nay-boors urged by casual winds that blue.
Dainty mournin' glories grace thee path-weigh awl along my fence;
Too-lips, peetoonias end lielacks dispense there vary pleasin' cents.
Guardeners till thee soil two plant unions, carats end pertaters,
End other veggies includin', let-us, beans end beef-stake termaters.
Pleasin' aromas of broilin' stakes waft about from nay-boor's bar-bee-cues.
Folks gether on friends' front porches two sip tee end schmooze.
Birds flit about buildin' nests four there gnu-bournes inn my apple trees;
Ravishin' butterflys sample thee nectar of blooms, a-waftin' on the breeze.
Spring! A time for gnu life, knew beginnin's that doth us awl enthral!
Spring! Thee most delightful season of the year, the most joyful of awl!
I didn’t see Alhaji Sule, the big contractor
Though he is a sponsor with a huge stake in government.
I didn’t see Chief Ade the financial banker
Though he is well-versed on political palavers.
I didn’t see Mazi Eze the business mogul
He’s engrossed in his profits of sales and remains apolitical.
I didn’t see Sir Osahon the civil servant
I wonder, but guess he knows he’ll always have his pay.
I’ve hardly seen his Excellency, not any of his children
But I can see all his servants and some of his relatives.
I see market women, okada riders, menial labourers
Poor farmers, job seekers and beggars, superintend by
Ad-hoc staffs, police, army, party agents, observers
Thugs, cultists, pickpockets and party chiefs, all…
All under the biting sun from sunrise to sunset.
From the tussling crowd I hear and see unending
Wails of distress, curses, cracking of limbs and crimson
Muffled by fugacious shouts of political victories
When from behind the curtain five dollars less swaps for a vote.
Stale politicians and their eating party chiefs preside over
The poverty, ignorance and despair of the masses who shall
Again be left in the cyclic vortexes of socio-economic woes.
In the coming years, they’ll, in public, keep licking their wounds
While the politicians, in private, will have and eat their cakes!