Long Babbling Poems
Long Babbling Poems. Below are the most popular long Babbling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Babbling poems by poem length and keyword.
I have been riding on the same waves for a hundred years
I have been telling the same tales for more than fifty years
One generation has passed another has come and this
old dry biscuit is still sitting in my chair. The dogs have bitten it, the kittens have dragged it, and the old stinking biscuit is jumping from chair to chair leaving a terrible stench in the atmosphere. Its white hair is sticking in the air and its black moon faced surface is as hard as rock, with eyes bulging like demons from the disdained pack.It watches me and silently sucks the daylight out of the primitive crops. This aged old biscuit has done its time, but it continues to steal and take what is mine. It is living off my energy and everyday it spreads its toxic waste on the younger crops, to blighted their growth and fill their cuticles with false hope.I wonder how much longer this biscuit will last? it is as stubborn as my dry ass. The dry old biscuit is irritating and its aroma is disgusting. My patience is running out and sometimes it makes me want to shout. It deceives the cats and dogs and it tells my brother that he is not tall.It moves subtle around with a sharp edge that will take a more than a hundred men to bend and just about fifty six women to control. The biscuit is not fit and it is babbling along to show off its terrible wits. It cannot stand up straight and I detest the looks in its face. It moans and groans at nights when it faces the spiritual light. This biscuits have a bad taste so throw it out of your pantry before it is too late. Don’t mix the old biscuits with the other biscuits or the mildew will blow up right into your face. The sun is hot, the moon is bright and something is going to eclipse at midnight. Beware of the shooting stars, and watch out for unman drone; the satellites are in close range to suck the energy out of you and leave you lame. I have been waiting for this day to past when the old biscuit is rolled away at last, and I will reclaim my chair and breathe fresh air. The eclipse is coming and I hope that you are ready.
Mist rises across our mountains,
Foretelling of the sunlight’s piercing smile
At the edge of woodsy silence, babbling brook
Quiet leaves, close to falling….
Clutching limbs through hesitant light
Erasing the mystical songs of autumn’s news
Crisp and fresh, the laughing grace
Pouring from the creek’s flow and the soundless
Blur of a moss covered log who knows
What it is to be blessed with the caress of paws
Squirrels and rabbit, deer’s hefty hooves
Embracing the morning, flowing
Hopes and dreams and praises of belief
And the wind stills the night
As the mist continues on its way
Rising, rising, rising
To tell the rivers and creeks
All the wonders of a spiritual psalm,
Aching to be read by the one who hears
The melody of God’s voice
On the edges of mountain ridges,
Along the banks of creek,
In the sunlight’s fleshy dream
And the night says its goodbye
as the story of a prayer
invites the believer to hear what is
beyond the knowing, in the softest light
beautiful stirrings of sunrise praises,
pouring from the mountains,
across the silence, in the stories
of what was before, what will be
and what is meant for only the heart to see….
Yes, God is to be praised
By even the stones and the hills and the trees,
By the moments of breathless dreams,
By the stars, the sun and the leaves…
By everything that has breath… especially me!
(I am with my published four books of poems.)
I breathe poetry wielding a tool, mighty,
mightier than either the sword or rod.
I reign as an Empress in Fancy's domain,
sketching life in ornate motifs and mode.
I paint with dull colors of pain and strife
also with brighter shades of gaiety and grace,
in finer yarn than the gossamer thread
on the fabric of fancy in befitting verse.
At times stealing away from the noisy crowd,
into the stillness of the cloistered cell,
I dwell with Fancy's mystic charms,
and weave downy dreams at will.
Babbling with the brook rushing swift,
racing with the deer loping past,
sometimes I wander into mysterious woods
where flowers, their richest fragrance cast.
My ears are intent on the songs of birds
which come floating from the far off groves
and the whirr of cicadas on the bark of trees,
breaking the calm of twilight eves.
I love to saunter along stretching strands,
watching virulent breakers in fury heave.
My heart dances with every tide
and swings with the rhythm of rising wave.
I feast on the gleam of the auburn sun
and the speckled blue of the infinite sky,
watching the day dying in flame
and the night in a diadem of stars vie.
I hearken to the moans of lovelorn souls
and sing of love’s beauty in ditties fine
triggering sparks into flames grow
in umpteen hearts that pine and whine
All that's lovely meets my eyes
and communes to me in profuse delight,
which when turned into rhyme and rhythm,
I post it for others to devour and digest
Wish from my harp, flow symphonies sweet
songs of longing, love and lust
of idyllic happiness, peace and bliss,
to fuel hearts with vigorous zest.
What I strive is to be a poet out and out.
Some may brand me as an aberrant and a fool.
But beneath the facade of my wayward thoughts,
lie heaps of wisdom for the discerning soul.
For velvet vanity and silver sanity
I write to unite mind and heart on sleeve
To free myself while imprisoning God in me
I write to escape at the same time I chase
My own path and wrath just to save face
I write to erase my sins and rewrite them
But this time with a whimsical smile
For a spoonful of sugar
helps the medicine go down
And like the rabbit
I love a good hole
To sink into
I write because I feel less alive
When I do not
Yet when I do I am not satisfied
So for me it is a passion
That I endure brief periods of time
I wanted to be eloquent and
Instead I form words like
A babbling brook splashing
Thrashing about hoping to travel
From one place to another
In the end I am the only one wet
The breeze that blows across the green,
The rustling leaves, the babbling stream,
Nature's gifts, a wondrous scene.
But now the world has turned unclean,
The air, the earth, the water, it seems,
The breeze that blows across the green.
The plastic waste and toxins we glean,
Our heedless actions, a reckless scheme,
Nature's gifts, a wondrous scene.
We must not take her gifts as routine,
For she is fragile, and we are extreme,
The breeze that blows across the green.
Let us wake up, and act on this dream,
For if we don't, it will be extreme,
Nature's gifts, a wondrous scene.
Let us cherish her, as she's always been,
And vow to keep her safe and serene,
The breeze that blows across the green,
Nature's gifts, a wondrous scene.
Fauning hairy sprite
Convene woodland diet
Passion and fervor ignite
From forest thickets alight
Guided by Luna's veil so bright
Gird your loins with all your might
Reins and halter held tight
Wend your way thru the dark night
Brandishing sword, your birthright
Scour lowlands scourge, blight
All that haunt and afright
Search lowest dale, mountain height
Nymphs uproot, demons fight
Forage your pastures stealthy, quiet
Keep fleeing dwarves in your sight
Sequester unicorns, leprechauns that spite
Mollify wizards that charm then slight
Into babbling brooks foamy white
Caress truant mermaids until first light
Then to your sylvan lair take flight
Some claimed that Camelot was noble,
a place built upon the stony ground
of good-intentions,
it was new and fangled,
it was progressive
in a time of little progress.
I have seen it, I was there,
always there was the choking fog
of intrigue,
even the unintrigued grabbed their throats
least subversive thoughts escaped them.
Old King Arthur was deliriously inane,
the people pitied him and did not love him,
some said he was an alien lizard being,
some claimed that he was soulless,
or so it seemed,
and yet he was forever babbling
about restoring the soul of the Kingdom.
Corruption grew like a malignant Ivy.
The women of Camelot were constantly angry,
their anger made them fat with a wishful bile.
Many females wanted to be men,
yet strangely enough they hated the menfolk.
The men were fragile and sensitive,
Merlin had cursed them
with the fey magic of 'Low T'.
Trust me, it was a great day
when the kingdom fell
to the massed hordes of disaffected
and disgruntled Goths.
Fresh blood was drunk from royal goblets,
children with wooden swords
chased the pork out of feral gangs
of squealing hogs
until they were as nakedly pink
as plucked chickens.
Commitmenting to one another
they sought a contractual agreement
that binds them in
marriage that refuses to
speak either as bride or groom: but
rathers as Husbandman and WifeWoman.
from the terms of Fiance and Finance"
From Engaged to Married without
the traditional exploited terms of
devaluing those involved with
nuptial's.
Making light of Non educating people
to the words involved and associated with
pending nuptials is mean and spirted towards revenge.
those who use these practices ought to be spoken of.
As it is written.
" my people are destroyed for the lack of knowledge,
in full representation of who we are
and who we wish to be".
Each word defined!
Each word Defined!
than with what each day may bring
might we never brag about tomorrow
that our ignorance overwhelms us
that we are obligated to speak
the definition in word
to the clarity of the Vision.
that God might mean in
full definition of each word
the pro's and con's of
the babbling tongue!
they will make you the Babbler, so they might create your role
as villain, and you shall be labeled hypocrite
who is vile and vain! They wish to speak of you
behind your back, to say what you might do!
Kapain Dame Dindolov
Source Merchant,
Lord of Tirchmire Provindence
CIO of Baggy Jean Corp.
Model Show World
and The Telly Show Corp.
President.
Appears cortsey of Write-On Music Company
Sheet Music America
Orchastra Union Dues
and Tuxedo Rentals
A butterfly flapping gossamer wings,
she is unaware of the breeze she brings.
She's a natural beauty, sought by kings,
but being no puppet, she cut her strings.
And like a babbling brook, her laughter sings,
the kind of girl men buy engagement rings.
A cuddly pussycat, she purrs in bed,
playing games till inhibitions are shed.
An artist, she's skilled with needle and thread
and a fashionista, she won't be led,
not tethered to the past, she zooms ahead.
Like an orchid, she exudes a sweet scent
and speaks to me in a sexy accent.
And always gives me one hundred percent,
my guardian angel, she's heaven-sent.
Armed with a smile, she thinks that I'm funny,
Queen of the hive, She's as sweet as honey,
a gourmet chef that likes her eggs runny.
She's a provocateur, oft capricious,
and yet, her kisses are so delicious.
She's a Goddess, and yet, she is my wife.
My confidant, she knows hearts aren't playthings
she's a passionate soul, happily wed.
She stretches hope to its fullest extent,
wise as an owl and cute as a bunny.
And the first time we met was auspicious,
for that's when she chose me to share her life.
(Minuanetta)
7/24/2018
Lost Battles
Rubies and blue sapphires all winking in the sun
as they topple down the stream
today the bloodshed’s done.
Lo the fallen kingdom, the people all enslaved
wickedness upon them, not one will be saved.
Royal purple satin, overlaid in gold
carried in a babbling brook,
collecting river mold.
Lo the bloody water, the desecrated field
carrion birds as judges, and naught will be repealed.
Broken swords and broken shields are littered all around,
the body of a crownless king
is prostrate on the ground.
His arms are reaching toward the bank and nothing in his hands
outstretched toward a kingdom lost, upon the bloodied sands.
So kneel and pledge your fealty to the headless royal crown
join it in the depths below,
breathe in - and then just drown.
Or bow your head upon the blocks, the axe above you hangs
hunger for what once was yours, and suffer from the pangs.
No mercy will be given, no pardons and no grace
the foe is screaming at the gate,
“Surrender, show your face!”
The only option left for you is rise and try to run
or join the captive sapphires all winking in the sun.
10/13/16