Long Banded Poems
Long Banded Poems. Below are the most popular long Banded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Banded poems by poem length and keyword.
It wasn’t on him,
He couldn’t find it,
Mysteriously missing,
He searched for it.
It was always on him,
It was a symbol of his undying love,
Since she went with the night,
He had not loved any other.
He watched her breathe her last,
He sat beside and held her hands,
With tears streaming down his face,
He muttered some words.
Those words were like a spell,
They infinitely cemented their hearts,
They banded them with an unbroken cord,
None else could come in between.
He was running in the woods,
Someone was trailing him,
He couldn’t see their faces,
His was bruised by the clustered trees.
He woke up,
The ring was lost,
A broken cord,
An undone spell.
June 30, 2022,
Dear Soupers, some of you have read my piece on FGM….Female Genital Mutilation for Richard Lamoureux’s Contest: Girl Rising. One of you has suggested signing a petition so that this grievous practice will be stopped. I’m happy to inform you that something IS being done by my church organization in the enditnow campaign. The Women’s Ministries Department of the SDA church along with ADRA (Adventist Development and Relief Agency), a non-profit organization, have banded together to get petitions signed to bring about awareness about this awful practice so that steps can be taken to outlaw it in many African countries. You CAN sign and be a part of it. The letter you will be signing is going to the Secretary General of the United Nations, Ban Ki-Moon. Yes...all the way to the TOP! I JUST NOW signed and it is as easy as pie! Please...take a stand.
Here is the link: Please check it out if you want to speak out for those whose voices are not heard.
http://www.enditnow.org/news-kenya-female-genital-mutilation
Love and prayers,
Eileen M Ghali
Fierce Arctic blasts were but things of my past
Once I found romance in the south of France.
How could she entrance with one simple glance?
My lonely love fast was over at last.
No longer alone with wine of the Rhone
We shared fresh claret at the Blue Parrot,
Love, I declared it, for her hair carrot
With its golden tone banded with opal stone.
We traveled to Nice to visit my niece
At the Eden Roc and enjoyed sweet talk;
The sand shore we’d walk and watch sailors caulk.
Our joy had to cease when came the police.
I'd made my exit, a jailbird Brexit,
From a Finnish cell much too cold to tell.
It was love’s death knell as law tracked me well.
To be explicit, Finns caught this nitwit.
It is Arctic cold where I will grow old
My crimes to atone ‘til I’m skin and bone.
My heart lives alone with dreams of the Rhone
Where claret is sold; and your hand I hold.
1/30/2019
Pouncing across the white pinwheel flowers,
dancing to the delightful tunes of breeze,
Blue beauty performed an air show for hours;
For a few moments, my sorrows she seized
Displaying a kaleidoscope of hues,
like a vibrant tableau, she unfurled views;
With bright blue colour, she blew off the blues
And my worldly worries I just eschewed
From bright royal blue to emerald green,
swapped colours, swiftly like a magician;
Her wings a canvas of shimmering sheen;
To find her name was my only mission.
Banded peacock is her beautiful name
Oh! Now, All I can do is just exclaim.
Oct-05-2024
In the tall many-eyed hospital
I am shrunken into a small pocket of isolation
waiting for a man to die or
the replanting of a once mislaid miracle.
I'm ducking beneath time and place waiting for something
I dare not name yet.
A stranger walks by,
he looks at me as if I am known to him
I want to tell him I hardly know myself anymore
but now his eyes are glazing over with indifference.
I’ve been here before,
a little further down this corridor
as a person blanked to off-white for the ease of finding;
a fearless medical concern, laid-out,
detailed, prepped for the probing,
one wrist banded just in case the unforeseen
grew too large to be ignored.
Today I am only a figure on a bench
visiting, hoping for news of death postponed
trying to recall one iota of the fear I once left here
as I, bundled against a heartless wind
was delivered back into a living space,
a place my friend may not find anymore.
Camouflage me quickly the fowl yelled as he landed.
Did not know who he was, but we ran out with paints - blue and red.
Can we colorize your feathers asked our leader, Mrs. Banded.
Do what you must to keep me away from the broiler, he said.
What are you talking about? Asked our naïve chicks of yellow.
With one warning look, he shushed his mouth, a wiser fellow.
What did he mean, dad? My chicks asked me that night.
I have no idea, I told them. I tucked them in, their eyes big and bright.
I want them to stay young and innocent as long as I can.
There will be plenty of time to ruin their dreams, agreed Mr sandman.
Beethoven to roll over,
dee composing
(sans my zany brainy adherence
to "FAKE" information I eschew)
and essentially single handedly grew
the contemporary paradigm few
off fish shill educated
people didst swallow
hook, line and sinker, but perhaps
an enlightened gentile and/or Jew
found credulity linkedin with the then
far reaching somewhat sunnily
revolutionary antithetical concepts only
gull lib bull and/or cuckoo,
despite the logically
substantiated veritable true
lee near custom fit, hunky
dory, integrated metaphorical
interlocking puzzling pieces
rightly anchoring vast vista
(realm of known knowledge,
viz apple pi order)
shipshape motley crue foo
fighting banded divers lee distinct
whirled wide webbing
did not experience
smooth semantic sailing,
and rather recently
(historically "speaking") Renaissance
exuded approbation, and found substantial
adherents among cognoscenti,
who took to heart as gospel truth,
the expansive database
apropos christened Aristotéles translated
to mean Superior; best of thinkers,
whose missives dissected, inspected,
and probed for ethical, philosophical,
and rhetorical handy
dandy blues clue
meriting nascent outlook, sans salient
rubric quintessential pointing cue,
analogous to eternal spirit hovering,
guiding, and favoring new
acolyte, or stalwart
diehard Aristotelian hew
wing painstakingly, thru
prodigious tomes binding
ancient (classical Greece) via
Aristotelianism super glue
rebranded within modern roam'n Times
Font 12 visa vis,
when re: discovered
anew by Martin Heidegger
Ayn Rand, and Alasdair MacIntyre.
On an early spring day, washed brilliant with clover
In the land of the sun, and sweet cherry blossom
A tremble, a rumble, that rattled the earth
Cracking open the spring day, like the devil's own plaything
Plates of dispute, on the edge of destruction
Beneath the sea’s surface…anger's wrath lies in waiting…
It came with no warning, …a mighty surge of horror
A tower of strength, to this tiny island flower
The harsh call of nature, came boldly from the shore
Relentless, the shaking, battering to the core
And altered the earth with a shattering shrill
Spilling despair, in a pillage of flurry
Killing the helpless, yet… leaving the courage
O’ land, of gentle people, wearing dignity’s expression
Those from afar, watched on with compassion
We gasped, then we cried, yet are awed with impressions
How hands helping hands, and courage ensued
Kind hearts, claimed the bruised, and calmed the confused
You banded together…helping each another,
Balance of elders, will hold you forever..
Grace under fire…. with honor we brand you
You raise up the spirit with hands of the valiant
Respect you have earned and honor you wear
The sun keeps on rising…..and will shine ever more
Last night’s slumber found me in an evening, cloud forest;
a plethora of mosses covered the ground and I found myself walking on a palette of green hues as night’s curtain fell. Humidity clammed my skin with its touch; free body lotion. It feels like I’ve just stepped out of the shower, refreshed. In a water forest you cannot always hear what is behind you; I felt that familiar piercing of eyes when, someone or something is watching and turned to see an Olingo on a tree branch. He was beautiful and as our eyes locked, he stood frozen. I called him friend then thought about it again. I then told him not to befriend others of my kind; they would want to harm him. Strange, his high-pitched, voice in my head; “Thank you, you will be my one human friend; you are welcome here”. He turned, ran into the cloudy haze. My heart levitated from my chest with elation; I may have saved him and his friends from poachers.
In a cloud forest
varied species living life
majesty surrounds all.
Olingo, A small nocturnal mammal found in Central and South American areas. They resemble a Kinkajou only with a banded and non-prehensile tail.
In Pakistan, the Taliban,
Which flaunts an iron rule,
Thinks girls of every age belong
At home and not in school.
And females who defy their laws
Get targeted and shot,
To prove that force and power
Are the things they haven’t got.
But what they do possess, in spades,
Which keeps their spirits yearning,
Is a passion for equality
And appetite for learning.
It’s hard for me to comprehend
Why this is such a threat;
How education menaces
Is something I don’t get.
Yet bullies with their weapons
Love to ambush and attack,
Believing (falsely) that these tactics
Will hold females back.
So bravo to you fearless girls
Who’ve banded in alliance
And manage still to get to school –
So daunting in defiance.
The world is hoping, fingers crossed,
That from the seeds you’ve planted
You’ll be allowed the education
That we take for granted.