Long Augusta Poems
Long Augusta Poems. Below are the most popular long Augusta by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Augusta poems by poem length and keyword.
Giant jets monitor the sky
Patiently waiting, for a screaming cry
Flanked by backdrop painted blue
Setting they flew
Icey cool
Seeking a gigantic, ocean pool
An identified object, ready to emerge
Piercing the atmosphere, experiencing its purge
Returning from the unknown
Coming home
Completing a ten-day mission
A spectacular vision
Now job is done
Success won
Picture perfect descent
Time well spent
Parachutes ease the dive
Ending the ride
Landing turning into a float
A galactical boat
Precise pinpoint shot
Transitioning astronaut heroes hot
Welcoming the sunset hour
Wanting celebration power
Back east
There is peace
Going fore the green
Sport jackets a dream
Trophy fashionable in style
Worth walking a few miles
Throughout the Augusta open space
Eagles earning a smiley face
Due to accurate decisions
Accomplishing a seventy-two-hole mission
Where winning could come down
To a perfectly presented round
Filled with mathematical correctness
Defeated consequences if there is a miss
Resulting, come back next week with a little less hiss
Since it takes three cornered Amens
When
Safely planted back on earth
Defending humanity’s turf
Diminishing virtues stripped away
From the flesh
By the fierce brined rods that freely
Course thy hot crimson blood;
Dry cracked lips attempting to
Fashion broken words of compliance
That so must needs to be spoken...
But...Ohhh, Meretrix...
My foolish and innocent child -
If you but only could!
Consider, Meretrix,..humility!
To which pleasure one thus
Submitted
Guiltily discovers:-
The joy in the act or posture of
Lowering oneself in relation to
Others.
For in your anguished dis-repair
You will find strength to endure and
Embrace:-
The acceptance of all your defects
And ultimate seduction
In the power of your:-
"Submission to Divine Grace"!
I will adorn you in the yellow Toga
Of the Vestal virgins,
They whom wise Augusta did abhor;
Burden upon you with an Imperial
Tax
Imposed by perverted Caligula:
Whither all Matronly protestations he
Didst dismissively ignore;
My Tribune forcefully exact -
When employing you in the
Degenerated role
Of my most reluctant Whore!
Clasp jeweled anklets abouts your
Shapely bones,
Decorate upon you like fired and
Painted porcelain figurines;
Whilst all the while, as your lost mind
Bemoans,
Choking between involuntary gurgles
And low-pained, stifled screams,
The gagged mouth bites down
Amidst salivating sounds
Borrowed from the hurtling
Nightmares
Of your darkest dreams!
For I will lift you higher than the
Tallest mountain peak...
So you may gaze with awe over all
The innumerable Kingdoms and their
Proud tyrant Kings;
Of the many differing species of all
Mankind type things...
And of the immeasurable riches
They so endlessly seek.
Lower you to the solitudes of the
Grassed floors
That sweep across the sunken
Valleys deep;
Where, besides enchanted streams,
Violated Nymphs quietly weep
For Abels broken schemes;
Now, tragically, all taken apart;
And for the wicked callousness
Of fallen man...
Whose desperate greeds ripped out
His live brothers still beating heart -
Then tore at the living throat of
The one true Gods Holy Lamb!
TO BE CONTINUED...
I'm a small street,
big street,
narrow,
wide...
down street,
top street...
Important,
imposing,
left,
right...
Street of the dream, street of suffering,
streets of the lost
whores...
Rua do Sol
at noon,
moon street
at night...
abandoned dirty street
kid lying on the sidewalk,
intriguing dark street
robber...dangerous street...
river street,
beach street
passers-by street
passersby
hurried
elegant...
Augusta Street,
Florida...Fifity
Avenue...
Avenue, Gasse
alley without teeth
Old Town...
street of creatures
night, lovers...
Car streets and
of coaches...streets
parallel walkways
fashion...
street from anywhere
streets that lead
to failure or to
success...street
of people who live
in it and of those
pass her...
shopping street,
fairs, circuses...
Street of Memories and
forgetfulness...
Street, street...!
Bestow on me an incorrect
3 leafed clover ephigy of
buttercup due early spring May
With I meandering through a maze
of cotton wool field lost
Trying best to avert the gaze of
the virile bull's with Horn's poised
Whilst listening to the joy of piercing
ringing mandolin string's and trooping
drum's in both left and right ear's on
my head
Eminating from the Yee Grand Old
Antebellum Plantation guard house
Adorned with a lushious overhanging
archway on either side of it's giant's
causeway
If you dare imagine with Jacaranda Blue
and Cherry blossom infused on a sunset
pink hue nude muse
Instantaneously ushering forth a vision
of Scarlett O'Hara vivacious locks
Gone with the wind like a kite upon a
hazy shimmering warm summer up draft
Augusta Georgia R.E.M night-swimming
aftermath
Once there was a Master that was put on hold
The one keeping the green safe felt this was very cold
“We are trying to contact you!”
“About an issue that said the Master was through”
With the phone in the ear Augusta the assistant
Was forced just to listen
Acting very honest not needing a mask
The recording entertainment was the office work task
Seconds went by then minutes
And Augusta screamed ‘we are not getting into it’
“The Master is in the office waiting
And you have not picked up my call, I am stating”
Then there was a click
And a voice came on real quick
“The Master wants to speak
About this delay that is supposed to take weeks”
“We are sorry for this awful scar
On your century old spring tradition whose course is designed by a small word like par”
Okay the Master agreed to wait
With the goal everything in the end will be made straight
Hanging up the phone
Everyone was feeling alone
The Master needed to make that call
In order to be able to stand tall
When one is put on hold
It’s not due to being cold
There were people in front of the Master
Needing things done faster
Knowing it was all right to take time to administrator a shot
Using the fair way to get a good spot
And once the delay leaves the hazard
A major issue will be in tatters
The Master should carry on with the driving club
Realizing in the end patience will make it a success not a dud
I'm a small street,
a big street,
narrow,
wide ...
Street,
top street ...
Important,
imposing,
left,
right ...
Street of the dream, street suffered,
streets of the lost
prostitutes ...
Rua do Sol
at noon,
Moon Street
in the evening...
Abandoned dirty street
chit lying on the sidewalk,
intriguing gloomy street
burglar ... dangerous street ...
Street,
beach street
passers-by street
wanderers
hurried
elegant ...
Augusta Street,
Florida ... Farm
Avenue...
Avenue, Gasse
toothless alley
Vilha Velha ...
Street of the creatures
night lovers ...
Streets of cars and
of coaches ... streets
parallel, walkways
of fashion ...
Street from anywhere
streets that lead
to failure or to
success ... street
of people who live
in it and those
go through it ...
Street of shops,
fairs, circuses ...
Street of souvenirs and
forgetfulness...
Street, street ...!
She writes like Maya
She sings like Aretha
She dreams like Coretta
She reads like Oprah
She speaks like Barbara
She plays like Serena
She rocks like Tina
She rolls like Donna
She entertains like Diana
She cures like Maria
She paints like Edmonia
She kicks like Mia
She runs like Wilma
She throws like Lisa
She boxes like Laila
She dances like Anna
She skates like Surya
She invents like Patricia
She revolts like Angela
She influences like Condoleezza
She paints like Edmonia
She smiles like Mona Lisa
She loves like a mother
She protects like a tiger
She prays like Mother Theresa
And she cooks like momma.
Dear readers, you can add more
A natural woman is never poor
Please, beloved friends, be kind
To come up with more in your mind
She tumbles like Simone
She philosophizes like Simone
She quilts like Betsy
She laughs like Whoopi
She jokes like Leslie
She sings like Marie
She speed skates like Maame
She flies like Mae
She exercises like Gabby
She educates like Mary
She fights like Dorothy
She explores like Stephanie
She sounds like Winnie
She creates like Margaret
She dares like Harriet
She runs like Marion
She entertains like Josephine
She legislates like Maxine
She sows like Catherine
She teaches like Gwendolyn
She lifts like Ernestine
She acts like Diahann
She reports like Diane
She speaks like Michelle
She is serious like Michelle
She is strong like Althea
She is talented like Augusta
She is defiant like Cicely
She is brave like Shirley
She is normal like Marilyn
She is fearless like Maxine
She is relaxed like Rosa
She is inquisitive like Barbara
She challenges like Phyllis
She swings like Chris
She plays like Alice
She is talented like Venus
She is pretty like a flower
And she is like our mother.
A natural woman is not perfect
She deserves honor and respect
She needs love everyday
From trouble, she never runs away
Please add more to this poem
And do not curse or blaspheme
She writes like Maya
She sings like Aretha
She dreams like Coretta
She reads like Oprah
She speaks like Barbara
She plays like Serena
She prays like Mother Theresa
And she cooks like our mama.
Copyright © August 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Are you listening out in Wood-wood' in Balranald do you hear in the Hunter and
Newcastle all round Maitland ix it clear?
From Jamestown, in Burra-Burra and from
Port Augusta too will they stand? speak
Out? Unite..Just do whats right, its time for such to do.' In Wonthaggi and Killarny
Ballarat and Bendigo, across to Geelong town
Get out be strong 'for that is what best' the Aussies do' in Geraldton and Bunbury past Perth and
Up to Broome, at Hobatt Emerald and Coolgardie be
No longer fooled.' In Forbes and Parkes and
Dubbo, in and Coleraine, Kiama too; Crookwell and
Coffs Harbour Australia calls to you.' If
You are asleep in Tumut, awaken' ask A man Johnny
Larter, our everyday Hero just whats on.' Then tell all your mates too.' in
Yass and also Wagga.' I'm sure they'll come along.'
And in coming then will realise, that mateship
Is key; is strong ' let your flags fly high till 'bye and
Bye' you are heard and your villans fall, once again all your women and man will be free, Now will you respond..To your nations call.'
“Christmas – that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance – a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.” Augusta E. Rundel
Winter drafts crept in, thin and sly,
a silver breath through window cracks~
Jack Frost’s graffiti on the panes,
furnace’s heat rose up chasing him back.
Mother’s kitchen smelled of cinnamon,
her oven wafting delicious sugar clouds.
Mother’s hands were like an alchemist’s,
turning dates to diamonds, figs to jewels
adding candied fruits in batter deep~
The brandy seeped through cheesecloth veins,
the fruitcake drunk with brandy’s dark desire.
Enchanted by her royal presence,
I stood before the Christmas tree~
a queen in her green tinseled gown,
an angelic tiara in her hair,
her ornate jewels catching every light~
and at her feet, six ladies-in-waiting,
poinsettias dressed in bright red velvet,
kept court beside her every night.
Made from a polar bear’s yawn of wool,
My snow-white mittens ate my fingers whole~
Father softly hummed Jingle Bells
while dancing with me in the town square.
Streetlamps blurred into golden halos.
My boots cracked the ice, like a clock
counting down to Saint Nick’s slow-motion dive
from the courthouse roof to the square below.
Then—hooves? No. Just the mayor’s truck.
Santa’s laugh rang out above carolers’
honeyed voices singing The First Noel.
Christmas Eve: the stocking’s gullet
spilled peppermint, rhyme, and silver moons.
Then came the slice, the waited prize~
a slice of fruitcake steeped in sugared brandy
whipped cream melting like Christmas wishes.
I wish Christmas could again taste like this.
TIGER THE SQUIRREL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There once was a golf-loving squirrel named Tiger
In a golf cart, he was never a rider.
He chipped acorns with flair
Through the crisp autumn air
Sinking putts while his tail waved ever higher!
At Augusta he drove from the tee with a crack
Sending pinecones far down the fairway track
With one paw on his hip
He'd adjust for the slip
Of wet leaves—never missing a shot back!
His hole-in-one made the ‘woods’ cheer
As blue jays swooped down to draw near
With his green jacket Tiger bowed, twitching his nose
He practiced from dawn till night, for his fame arose.
Tiger, the Masters golf champion all creatures did revere!