Long Arms Poems
Long Arms Poems. Below are the most popular long Arms by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Arms poems by poem length and keyword.
To be truly free one must unshackle themselves. First the hand shackles followed by leg shackles. Feel them in turn flying open and free.
Now try flapping your arms feel yourself leaving the ground there you go
you can now fly. Try a few loop the loops and spins see Of course you can.
Look, look over there its Pukka Simba bounds over Pukka he cries lets have an adventure. Oh yes how spiffing an idea lets set course south by east looping round Zanzibar on the way and then on to the Serengeti So off they set and arrive an hour or so before dark. We sat eating and drinking under sparkling stars. We laughed and laughed till bedtime
AT dawn we set off for the distant mountains Quickly we were above them
as we landed a mighty voice said who dares trespass here on my land
an enormous elephant rounded the corner. He told us his name was Tembo
he wanted to own a special blood red stone stolen by the pirates of Zanzibar
A haggled old witch said any one wanting the maiden of the moon must
get the pearl of beauty from the pirates for her. Wanting to help the beautiful moon maiden and Tembo they put their head together and came up with a good plan to brew a powerful potion to put them to sleep til we meet again
and we will take a break for another day
Favorite Movie
Ernest Hemingway's book,
"A Farewell To Arms" was
made for movie theaters
and stirred my emotions
in the year 'fifty-eight.
It was a big hit then.
Since I was with child,
Catherine awakened
such deep maternal
feelings inside me.
I felt how she felt.
Sad times ahead.
Baby born dead;
mother passes.
So traumatic.
Broken hearts;
sober scenes
full of grief.
My eyes,
full of
tears.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Favorite Movie
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: 01/24/2016
Six Stanzas: Syllables: 6-5-4-3-2-1
A Farewell to Arms is a 1957 American drama film directed by Charles Vidor, based on Ernest Hemingway's book of the same name. Characters Frederick Henry (Rock Hudson) is an American officer serving in an ambulance unit for the Italian Army during World War I. Catherine Barkley (Jennifer Jones), is a Red Cross nurse he had met earlier, near the front, and they engage in an affair.
Overwhelming
By Franklin Price
02/11/2023
While I was in Vietnam, received a “Dear John” from my wife.
Said, she had found another, was no longer in my life.
Thought it would be forever, when I said the wedding vows.
Now was all alone, and was not wanted. What would be my future nows?
When first we met, you had another. Your vows were taken for a ride.
Although he was not loyal, there was no interest from my side.
You separated from him, for he never would be true,
You took your baby with you. Now what were you supposed to do?
But for a timely baseball game, things may have stayed that way.
I could not stand to see you suffer, I stood by you that day.
I put my arms around you, and I drove you to your house.
Told you, he was not worth it, and you should divorce the louse.
Gave you my phone number, in the event you needed aid.
We talked and then we dated, our love increased, and did not fade.
We married in November, together more than fifty years.
God took you up to heaven. I'm still crying thankful tears.
Without you, what would be my life? I look back without regret.
Would I do it all again? Yes, I would's a winning bet.
You left me with our family, our daughter and our grands,
With our love to carry on, I'm in the best of helping hands.
Loving you was overwhelming. Through the years it never changed;
Only got much deeper, as was needed, rearranged.
The depth and breadth of caring, never coming to an end;
My lover, soul mate and my wife, but most of all, were my best friend.
In the late, sleepless hours of night, a meandering takes up form.
Whilst in the distance thunders peal and clear skies
Relent to storm—
Giving backdrop to fervent feelings
That much is not of goodly norm,
Nor the seeping reelings
Of a kingdom falling
With the entirety of its soul,
As those e'er trusted
Play a vile and ruthless role—
Shattering with ruinous deeds—
Its cornerstones.
When the eye tenderly looks away,
The head bow'd in shy disgrace,
Like the budding flower downturn'd;
The petals red, like the blushing face—
Evil will have learned,
Which beguiling smile may prevail,
Which pretty words lend thee sweep
Thy locks aside
And rest thee asleep,
Thy head in the soft down of cushion'd pride;
Thy alarms wrapt and silenc'd
In purposed arms,
As soft whispers fall
In lulls and lullaby-songs.
Where, when thou art rous'd awake,
Thou join'st the countless throngs;
Unabiding of the council of reason,
Thou wouldst become a tool of treason,
Blinded by the flattering colours shone before thy vanity
And the wrathful power of
A wielded disparity.
Thou lisp'st among the high,
Thou watch'st the lowly try to climb,
But with beauteous, graceful foot
And an armored heel
Push'st them down
And give'st up thy soul to feel
Forever a cruel power wound—
Within a frail frame
That but yesterday
Champion'd the poor,
The forsaken,
And held down
With rallying voice
That once won them choice,
And a voice to be heard
And deem'd worthy
And abiding in untarnish'd honor,
Where now thine is lost
At the cost of thy ruined
Family name and a withering fame,
Now known'st only well for naught
But shame.
Beware the attentive,
timely, charming stranger's smile.
Friends are more than sweet looks
And courtesies—free yet costly;
Comely with a dubiety earn'd,
Seen clear through the puissance of self
And a wise, unerring vigilance.
In dark of new day
Perhaps 2 am or three
I woke up to pee, and
Heard you say,
"Please can I have water?"
I touched your forehead on fire
You were three going on four.
I clothed you, wrapped you in warmth
From dew of dark night
Your brother slept in his crib
As I carried you on my shoulders
Pass canals, and alleyways, and lanes
And over across Belize's swing bridge
Even the market place slept as I walked.
In the emergency room, you were first
For your temperature had climbed
Making you soundless in my arms
In room of nurse and doctor, handing
The pill, bating your fever;
You were my load stone star, sent to me
When I needed a friend
I then began a course in duty.
*
A child pulled from her mother's arms
and placed into a cage.
How could a person seeing this
not feel enormous rage?
Instead, the mother, full of fear
and shocked with disbelief,
thought what she said or how she looked
had brought about this grief.
Was it because her clothes were torn,
her shoes had come apart?
She had been walking miles and miles
in search of a fresh start.
Was it because her skin was brown,
her face was stained with tears?
Was it because she looked too old
for twenty-seven years?
Would she hold her child again,
kiss her as she slept?
Would she see her timid smile,
caress her when she wept?
Or, would she miss those childhood years
not meet her until she'd grown?
Then, would the child think her Mama
was someone never known.
How can this be happening?
Where is our country's heart?
Why aren't more of us standing up?
Instead, we stand apart.
The mother sits with others
who are old beyond their years.
She bears her grief in silence now,
her legacy is tears.
Arms and legs peddling struggling
I tread
In the middle of the lake
There is 300 feet of blue water
Between the soles of my feet
And the 10,000 year old dance floor beneath.
Torch Lake never gives up her dead.
The lake’s bottom is pocked
With springs bursting as jets from Middle Earth
Jumbling boulders like popcorn.
This is where the drowned bodies sink
Irretrievable by dive teams or priests
Those Ojibwa fishermen ripped from their Birch canoes
Loggers clunked dead on their heads
Great Depression titans
Still stitched to their britches
Top hats and bow ties
Pistols clutched to their hands
Wives sunk from hurt and betrayal
Factory workers snapped in two
A young girl from a rowboat
Caught in a sudden storm
Clapping for her tossed dog
She dove in.
I wonder from down there
Where they’re all doing the jig
What I look like to them
Up here?
Another man walking on his knees?
Tableaus’
An elderly television speaks to her
in a deaf condominium.
Her garden is a cluster of cobwebs,
it rattles and spins as stiff
as the skeletons of the sun.
Her ears listen to the world
as it ascends into a fairy tale.
The dragons are back,
the good knights and the bad,
she recalls their fictitious deeds,
they ride again in her garden of bones;
those lovers that have succumbed
knit together more daylight dreams.
Outside her window
anxious gangs of newborn brawlers
via for the earths attention.
The clatter of arms
and the crush of concurrence
are hardly noticed at all.
From time to time,
F.D.R calls but his fireside chats
are a dusty furnace long unlit.
The condominium cools
inside a dark-stockinged twilight
then she, unseen and younger,
slips into another
of her timeworn party dresses.
Written: March 11, 2025
***********************
Desert dazzling daisy,
Enchanted by the delicate dance of the wind,
swayed gently under the warm sun.
Its vibrant petals caught the light,
creating a mesmerizing display that drew
the attention of passing travelers, the light of dawn,
At dusk, it fades akin to fireworks.
Brilliant blooms of
dandelions, born from
a bounty of love,
are bettor than barren
baubles of diamonds,
which emerge from a heart of stone.
Fantastic flair fills
hearts with fervor,
as fleeting fragments fade
such dewdrops dancing
delicately on dainty petals.
An ethereal essence elevates,
joyfully bouncing in the
the atmosphere as dew emerges.
Roaring rivers of red rage
in a realm buried
beneath darkness,
holding treasures,
tattered threads,
tossed at the threshold,
gently cloaking love,
longing and light.
In a blazing embrace,
spitting at soaring ships,
smoldering swifter,
Togetherness and love soar to the loftiest heights.
mirroring a midget mirth,
As a mantis mercilessly mauls its mate,
Carefree, courageous, captivating,
this scene is filled with frolic and fun,
then they could scream
the fury of forgotten freedom,
fervently flaring.
Leap into the loving arms.
of a waiting parent—
Truly treasured is trust.
There is joy in returning that love
love is not a ledger;
It doesn't tally totals.
But for the parents,
Who do they leap into?
Trusting love will be met.
with festive feasts
and fine wine.
Progenitor of all progenitors,
to whom the past is pinned,
in whose hands the future flourishes,
famed for nurturing the finest—
for joy and wellness,
seeds sown and reaped,
life rekindled,
form of finesse and fortitude.
To heed His harmonious hints,
with serene Sunday pauses,
to ponder and perceive
how one might overlook a signal
and shift into reverse,
to regain the path
and reach a radiant resolution.
A paradise of playful,
peaceful pauses,
and who in truth
can truly doubt,
Gazing at the humbly honored
His everlasting love for us,
His cherished children
for whom He chose to die?
ice can be sculpted
into an ax, a ring; shatter;
soap, a thumb pop;
used to keep water
and soda pop
chill and give the kids a reason
for sitting still.
ice can slide over the neck,
legs, arms - deliciously melt;
can make a kid laugh,
under his shirt.
Send the kid to the cooler
when the sun is concentrated,
glaring at us as if dusk
won’t come soon enough.
The ice chest, filled more precious
than gold, with more than one
cylindrical can. The opening
of the fireworks, celebrated
with the hiss of a coke.
ice ends up
in the sink,
signifies the fun
is over
and yet the cooler, the later
it gets, the hungrier
are the guests -
turned down food trucks
thus
we, I, forgot to feed them
and now they eat
corn dogs after midnight.
7/1/2023