Long Bole Poems
Long Bole Poems. Below are the most popular long Bole by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bole poems by poem length and keyword.
IDEALISM
Liberal, Modest, Noble, Open Personality
deserves reverence and adoration,
simultaneous admiration
to be followed by every soul.
Dishonesty, Envy, Falsehood, Greed, Hate
to control, to kill or to drive out.
Revenge in mind, never to sprout.
Peace of human should be the goal.
Abolish Betrayal! Crookedness: Do Explode.
For conspiracy to confront
in social or domestic front
stand straight as stable-rooted bole.
Respect Strong Truth, Universal Values
of morality on journey of life,
whether at ease or at strife.
In drama of life play courageous role.
08/02/21
First Place
Alpha Lines Contest by Joseph May
Bare tree branches waving histerically at the ground
Wind is blowing Shadows, to be lost and never found
The wind she whistles, alluring, as the Sirens of old
Nakedness of Winter Nature, shivers in the cold
As snow floats down, a blanket weaves around the soul
Warm, the squirrels sing and dance in the nest inside your bole
As evening rises, the wind ceases, the freezing cold stands still
Wind stands motionless, behind the rocks up on the hill
Everyday the trees absorbs the warmth from the SON
Soon the buds will sprout, Winter will be gone
Dedicated to Toquyen Harrell
She nested upon
her self-made pyre
preparing for
another genesis
in blaze hues of love
and together they were
a combustible fire
She, the creature
exquisitely
forged by fire
eternally
existing within
love's dimensions
designed
to mesmerize
us, by swirling amber
scarlet, and purple
plumage
with flecks of cobalt colors
delicately dissolving
amid the firelight
shadows, a macabre dance
her last love song
Seemingly born
to say goodbye
and sweet is her demise
this touch of heaven
healing the wounded
weeping
eternal teardrops
of Truth and beauty
into hearts, selflessly
with nothing to gain
consuming pain
all things made new
And so it begins
again and again
as it ends...
one of life's treasures
never-ending hope, her
sacrifice of love
____
20 Titles From 20 Friends contest prompt:
Another Genesis (M.L. Kiser)
Blaze Hues of Love (Eve Roper)
Together They Were a Combustible Fire (Caren Krutsinger)
Forged by Fire (Line Gauthier)
Love's Dimensions (Winged Warrior)
Mesmerize Us (Gershon Wolf)
Cobalt Colors (Connie Marcum Wong)
A Macabre Dance (P.S. Autry)
Last Love Song (Sherry Asbury)
Born to Say Goodbye (Silent One)
And Sweet is Her Demise (Andrea Dietrich)
This Touch of Heaven (Arturo Michael)
Weeping (Richard Lamoureaux)
Eternal Teardrops (Michelle Faulkner)
Truth and Beauty (Agnes Krampe)
Nothing to Gain (Freddie Robinson Jr.)
Consuming Pain (Maureen McGreavy)
All Things (Charlene Bole)
And So It Begins (Jan Allison)
One of Life's Treasures (Old Buck)
Oh Father
Please help us
For we have done wrong
That day in Bole
When we let stones fly
The dead guinea fowl
We roasted & ate
On the way to Kananto
the cripple we mocked
We won’t let up
Till he had cried
On the street in Bolga
We caught a thief
We lashed & slashed
Till he was dead
Oh Father
Won’t you help us
We have done wrong
What of the day
Bright and sunny
On a beach in Saltpond
The drowned we didn’t help
And as for you
Our foe Kookoko
We can hear your cry
In our torture chamber
Your sister gave us
Diamonds
But we still took
your life
Oh Father
Please help us
For we have done wrong
Cleopatra,
I investigate your eyes
through Nile mist that weaves,
jade butterflies that never fly
sable tresses hanging over leopards
bole skin on the border of Venusian dreamcatchers
Gilded diadems dance as burned suns
radiate from golden flakes of your crown
lightning demarcating the border between genius
— and ambition
wars are fought easier than your heart is won;
Cupid grieves your connections
Great men fear being made lesser by You
She of the God-like Mind
made Immortal for her Wise Counsel
I’m no prisoner of Fear nor Envy
nor Love
only Fate & Chance
Passionate war’s trompe-l’œil
I didn’t plant that garden tree
But thinking, I just let it be
I knew I should have cut it out
But felt within to let it sprout
And so, as seasons came and went
I pruned this tree, its bole I bent
Around the gable of my shed
But left the limbs above my head
The years passed by and I grew old
I hated heat and shunned the cold
My garden work became a chore
As summer days my patience wore
But resting underneath that tree
Allowed me time to watch and see
The beauty of my garden wrought
And all the neighbored friends it brought
A bunny comes to taste my beets
While shaded so, I rest my feet
A bumble-bee’s contralto thrum;
A promise of much more to come
Badgers, robins, the house finch red
All come with hopes of being fed
And I, too tired to wield my hoe,
Am glad I let that elm tree grow.
The wind blows clean
scouring in Sakkara, Necropolis of Memphis
gem of Upper Egypt.
The purity of sand and sky
maintained by late rising
in the twentieth century.
The titan walls reach from a sea of silica
crystalline grit of ground quartz
once drowned,
devoured by desert, now disgorged…
the mill of life having preserved
the germ of memory eternal.
Far from the light surge of
incandescent and florescent,
from the leavings of modern man
Sakkara rises again, for such as we to glory in…
Imhotep’s caress of stone, song of sand
Rises, as morning follows night,
Rises like bole of palm
stroking the cheek of Ra.
I didn’t plant that garden tree
But thinking, I just let it be
I knew I should have cut it out
But felt within to let it sprout
And so, as seasons came and went
I pruned this tree, its bole I bent
Around the gable of my shed
But left the limbs above my head
The years passed by and I grew old
I hated heat and shunned the cold
My garden work became a chore
As summer days my patience wore
But resting underneath that tree
Allowed me time to watch and see
The beauty of my garden wrought
And all the neighbored friends it brought
A bunny comes to taste my beets
While shaded so, I rest my feet
A bumble-bee’s contralto thrum;
A promise of much more to come
Badgers, robins, the house finch red
All come with hopes of being fed
And I, too tired to wield my hoe,
Am glad I let that elm tree grow.
Love or hate
Each thought close eyes doom daam
Cracker blind do you miss when I say
good night when you sleep keeping your
Cellphone near your dreams
Our pure relationship with tie of fashion
Called to reach not till I failed in life the ten years I hate my hat off different perspective behavior and road to trip to
Find you just it's a taste of love
Hate
I'm sorry for the answer of any questions that because my identity is the fraction of bole nath I feel you in memory of past life can I say good bye NO it's my stubern that tell me what are you geting from this bulldy life your words Is my hate
my hate is my hat..
Thanks madam
With love all
Jagdish Bajantri
To have your picture on the face of a stamp,
Is a honor reserved for the ones who cultivated change
Among the mèlange of inspiring faces,
Lays the face of someone who served on the basis,
Of freedom
Behind a small black and white picture,
A mighty face lays
With eyes of a fighter,
eloquent hair, neatly parted
The words,
Black white
Trust danger
Defiance hope
All line the bottom
Words of hope, words of courage
That picture is of a strong willed soul
Oh what a wonderful life, one bloke stole
Late at night, she deployed her clandestine runaway
With peers, she warily walked, not knowing where she was destined
Little did she know,
She would make this trip many times again, not knowing what each bestowed
Harsh winter nights, where the breeze grew as cold as coal,
She walked, walked and walked
Till’ days grew into the lines of a bole
She is a freedom fighter
She is a activist
She is a mother
She is a motivator
She is Harriet Tubman
Usps Stamps Poetry Contest - 07/04/25
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori