Long Bamboos Poems
Long Bamboos Poems. Below are the most popular long Bamboos by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bamboos poems by poem length and keyword.
Flowers were snoring with sweet dreams,
When the Sun's fingers woke them up;
A symphony of birds-chorus,
Like a concert, seemed to thrill up...
Amidst summer's severe staring,
Rain opened his tap so softly;
A Ray-gleam joyously wetting…
The breeze seemed to wipe her gently...
Storm's wretched hand at such juncture,
Snatched the small sachets of roses;
Leaving the sunshine and shower,
Lay cuddling into bird's nestles...
Thunder smashed the sky; lightings laughed;
Bamboos kissed and the flutes giggled;
Weddings of clouds and vapors blessed;
Heat flew fear-filled, dreams unfulfilled.
========
O Nature! Play this 'hide-and-seek',
With my soul when she's sorrowful;
That she might reach joy's highest peak,
And dwell there, forever, blissful...
“Let the floods clap their hands; let the hills sing together for joy”
(Psalms 98:8)
23 May 2021
Personification Poem 150 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
The natives have
(since the seventh month peeped
through the lean crescent eye of the moon)
worn cloaks of festivities.
They dance the rites,
squelching proudly in mud and green pools
of water.
On their heads are smouldering fires of corns
And pears, and ingredients of a lush season.
Behold their mothers’ breasts!
Flopping tonelessly with life and ceremonial milk.
The engaging flesh of birth.
And their fathers’ ribs —bare and fractured—
Like splinters from bamboos of white; strong bows of
A fragmented hunting group.
Their daughters dance with frenzied gaits,
Insisting on frantic melodies.
Drums throb on with the vim of restlessness.
Flutes hasten with the speed of departing tunes.
Ogele* sounds with the rhythm of fraternal bliss . . . .
The village sons bend their torsos in tremulous dance steps,
reluming low-burning
ancestral fires.
Breathe in now the image of a raging ceremony,
Symbols of a rite,
which hang on the rafters of a community,
this seventh month of the yam calendar.
*Metal gong
POOP - TALE : for contest
No embarrassment , everyone poops
So relaxed is the feel after all 's out
No gold and riches can ever buy such feel
I am sure all will agree silently though!
We get that feel for free as nature calls
In body, poop factory is so well- fitted
Based on our lifestyle it is regulated
Frequency n' timing our habits decide
As far as we breathe , we have to poop
No matter where you are, who you are...
How many times daily varies with species and diet...
Bamboos and honey diet makes Panda bears poop,
more than a forty times in a single day !
In other species range follows bell shaped curve
A balanced input-output cycle continues..
Doctors diagnose ailments examining poop,
Sausage shape is ideal poop the doc opines..
Mothers of kids worry if they cry while they poop
Too much delay makes happy a trader in laxatives!
Night soil in fields have made a fertile land
Poop of cattle folk is a manure too good
Everyone poops and is so useful too...
Deadlines and work pressure,meetings with boss
Petty tussles with friends or your own spouse.
Ask for a break saying you need to poop
Instantly you are permitted and you may slide out
Enjoy this break behind washroom doors !!
No more shy business, everyone poops!
Engrossed in reading a suspense thriller,
Or watching the climax of a movie horror
As soon as poop siren raises alarm, you got to go!
Ultimate rule is please don't control
Happily you poop poop poop and flush out !
FOR CONTEST- EVERYONE POOPS
Sponsored by:Roy Jerden
Submitted by: Anulaxmi Nayak
Date: 9th August 2015
glossary:
Bell shaped curve: the normal distribution curve
which has values of all ranges and takes a bell-shape.
The natives have
(since the seventh month peeped
through the lean crescent eye of the moon)
worn cloaks of festivities.
They dance the rites,
squelching proudly in mud and green pools
of water.
On their heads are smouldering fires of corns
And pears, and ingredients of a lush season.
Behold their mothers’ breasts!
Flopping tonelessly with life and ceremonial milk.
The engaging flesh of birth.
And their fathers’ ribs —bare and fractured—
Like splinters from bamboos of white; strong bows of
A fragmented hunting group.
Their daughters dance with frenzied gaits,
Insisting on frantic melodies.
Drums throb on with the vim of restlessness.
Flutes hasten with the speed of departing tunes.
Ogele* sounds with the rhythm of fraternal bliss . . . .
The village sons bend their torsos in tremulous dance steps,
reluming low-burning
ancestral fires.
Breathe in now the image of a raging ceremony,
Symbols of a rite,
which hang on the rafters of a community,
this seventh month of the yam calendar.
*Metal gong
From the Elephant's diary
You find me giantly like Gulliver, huge and obese
but I met my doc, he said take it with ease....
for you big is more beautiful so eat more cheese
I am on my diet of sugarcane juice,
lush green grass n' tons of bamboos
Mammoth was my forefather not anymore seen
Now I know being gigantic is in my genes
Instructor at the gym shooed me away
for I broke his treadmill with my single step I say
We love to have our bath in nature's pool
We dabble water with our trunk till we are all cool
A relaxing shower for all friends after hectic schedule!
In our forest club, trophy for best music band,
we won last week for our trumpet troupe!
Large is our family my Jumbo uncle says,
Old and wise he is in our tuskers' herd
He says our eyes are small, to see
only little good left in this big bad world
And our ears are large to fan away
the gossips and bad we hear
Thick skin we do have so called pachyderms
to shrug off the hurling vices of the woods
but we have a large heart to spread
loads of love to all species widespread
In history, we have a place reserved
for in wars and royal processions,
we were used as pride symbols he says
Revered animals we are since eons.....
In country called India, heritage animal we are
and even worshipped in religious places he says!
Huge boulders or logs ,mankind used us for transport
We even entertain them in zoos and circus
But he regrets that we are poached, killed by men
to pull out pair of our incisors called tusks
who polish to make precious ivory to earn bucks
So useful and harmless friends to humans we are
I asked my uncle why so cruel the men are?
He said men show their power
of being Nature's superior creature
we elephant folk are helpless giants
We can do nothing but to pray that
we be valued for our selfless services and
be saved from going extinct from this world!
©Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak,2015
For contest: Giant animals
Sponsored by: D.Nathan
Date: 2nd September 2015
Tended with diligent care and toiling
Prayed for against pest attack so severe
Being nurtured by God’s bountiful grace
Our church gardens* are flourishing indeed.
Abundant green and leafy vegetables
Sway healthily exuding their nutrients:
Camote, alugbati, and sili
Likewise, ampalaya, talong, okra.
Herbarium corner shouts vim and vigor
Since herbs serve with supplements’ readiness
There’s aloe vera; here’s serpentina
Sambong on the right; herbabuena, too.
Hedged with bamboos are ornamental plants
Vines and ivies find solace in their nook
Robust bushes, “fortune” and “welcome” reign
As shrubs of pink petiole and red gold peep.
Blest to be refreshed from these garden sites
I then linger near the acasia tree
Savoring oxygen breathed out freely
Thanking the Creator for flora-wealth.
Such is our Botanical Ministry
Offering sweet replenishment from stress
With greeneries’ beauty of wellness strength
Toward invigorating service-bliss.
*Jeremiah 29:5 …Plant gardens, and eat the fruit of them.
June 11, 2020
4th place, "Garden" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart; judged on 6/13/2020.
Once I had a bicycle,
A loving present from my grandfather;
Since I was his favorite granddaughter,
He granted my wish at a snap of my finger .
Since he was so old,
A new bicycle he could hardly afford;
He took his bike when he was young,
Which I found it once at the back of our barn.
As far as I remember,
It was really so old and rugged;
But my grandpa was like Mr. Mac-Gyber,
Amazingly fixing all things all-over.
My granda was a well-known painter,
I thought he will repaint and use sandpapers;
When I surreptitiously sneaked into his hut,
He was there recycling all my milk cans.
When everything was done,
He gladly gave it to me with a big hug;
I hurriedly drove it at once,
Down the street and field with so much fun.
“My bike was real a unique one!” I thought.
So different from others in our neighborhood,
Its wailing siren was made up of a cow’s horn,
Tubes were made of dried bamboos and corn.
Other parts were still the same,
Like forks, hubs and chainwheel set,
The rest were made up of my milk cans,
They were pedal, brake and seatgear stem.
Handle bars were what I liked most,
Converted from the handle of his old plow;
So sturdy and so strong all I knew,
And I can drive it so long in full control.
However, when I travelled quite afar,
Parts were falling one at a time;
Until everything suddenly split apart,
Eventually it dropped and rolled me down.
©2012Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Date: Aug. 3, 2012
4th Place Winner (My Very First Winning Poem)
Contest: Any Poem of the Week Contest
Contest Judged: 8/4/12
Poet Sponsor: Secret
Anji County of China is the town of bamboo
Visitors arrive in cars, more than a few.
Cooks could add some stems to their tasty stew
But giant panda consumes most shoots and stems of bamboo
Bamboo borers are a delicacy, tasty and sweet
Caterpillar to you, but don’t try to count his feet
We found six in the canebrakes yesterday said the cook.
It is best to consume this dish without a real close look.
Japanese giant timber bamboos grow faster than these
One grew forty-seven inches in twenty-four hours. Oh, please!
Bamboo paintings and woodworking is a pleasure to see.
Please look away from the table for a second; stop looking at me.
XMAS TRADITION
How I longed for the Xmas tradition we celebrated when I was growing up. The Xmas tradition that still lives on; but we left behind. It is celebrated here in some parishes. However, it is not the same as we celebrated it in the Philippines.
As Xmas advent approached, my father busied himself making Xmas lanterns to be hanged in every window of our house. They were made of bamboos and colorful papers with bulbs inside to light at night. My brothers and I were so excited watching him make them and when they were all hanged.
Then the devotional nine-day celebration started on December sixteen, wherein we walked to the church to attend a mass each day starting at dawn or four o’clock in the morning. After the mass, at five o’clock we ate rice cakes with tea or hot chocolate outside the church. There were so many delicacies to choose from, as they were so many who made these rice cakes to celebrate the Xmas season and to show and share gratitude.
On the ninth day, the end of this devotional tradition, the mass was held at midnight or Xmas Eve welcoming our Savior with gratitude. Instead of eating the rice cakes after the mass, we all went home to celebrate Xmas Eve. We all gathered at the kitchen table, young and old, enjoying Xmas dishes and rice cakes and togetherness.
“Christmas”, the season
to reflect and be grateful
for our gifts, blessings
11/27/21 "X" Contest, New Or Old Poetry
Constance La France