Long Boulder Poems
Long Boulder Poems. Below are the most popular long Boulder by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boulder poems by poem length and keyword.
It ain’t heavy Babe
Writing lines so soft they can never be heavy.
Driving along in my Beetle; dreaming about a Chevy.
Time to begin again; getting ready.
Lovin’ ain’t as easy as they all say it is.
Still I’m heading out west, looking for something steady.
Been rolling my whole life through, with love on my mind.
I’ve climbed every hill that stood in my way,
And I sank into every ditch that I could find.
My heart is a heart-seeker, but my lovin’ eyes have been blind.
I believed in the unbelievable; wasted so much time.
Could have been a contender,
If only I had the talent to succeed.
I could have made something of myself,
If only I knew just what to do with this plasticine.
Sang songs of love and sang songs of hate.
It all took every piece of me.
Wrote poems about my every day, every day
And all my nights and in all my dreams,
But still I am left here waiting, praying for her love.
Love is a boulder, upon my shoulders,
And I’m feeling heavy…
Maybe I should do something good.
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Ice Cold Water Equals Ultimate Thirst Quencher...
Especially experiencing onset dehydration,
this opinion shared by former consumer,
he quaffed truckloads sugary and sports drinks
found mine once sculpted baby boomer body
undergoing gender reorientation, particularly
nondescript breasts incrementally found
busting (rivaling playboy bunny chest)
necessitated this garden variety
NON GMO gluten free husband
"papa," an endearment
addressed by the missus
puzzled when her
brassieres went missing
loathe to believe what sounded
like cock and bull story
embarrassed, yet finally
relented into pestiferous
inquisitiveness hen pecking wife,
she stood agape, after I dare bare
unclothed upper torso revealed
floppy, limp biscuit sagging
sorry excuse for bosom
hence necessitating yours truly
to resort as partial crossdresser,
yet never foreseeing
anatomical morphology transforming
(analogous to mushroom popping up
following bucketloads of rain)
thus went cold turkey,
(as attested by this gobbledygook)
to swear off high caloric non nutritious
popular beverages
(generating bajillions dollars),
and additionally
forced non chipper infowar
i.e. internal three ring circuits
uncivil insurrection
(less than seven years ago)
as weeks elapsed months
(this unplanned resolution
dated early two thousand nineteen),
discarded over the shoulder boulder holder
in tandem with exercise
few times per week
plying twenty pound dumbbells
a pronounced reduction
saved me big bucks
undergoing cosmetic surgery!
Pt. 3
We lived in a house with many shadows that came and left frequently.
She called herself my caretaker. From small measures of her time, she taught me how to read, yet she never caressed me nor given me a kind word.
When I was younger, she sat me in front of the television while she shot fire into her veins or snorted white powder through her wide nostrils.
When she disappeared along with the shadows, the originator grew even more of a fiery beast, and my tears and pleas were ignored
I learned to remove myself from grief and emotions over the years and stay in my closet out of the way of him and the shadows that he invited into my bed.
Something happened to him.......
Maybe I grew wild with perplexity that dims the seasons of my life.
Ambiguity is a heavy boulder.
I raked at my arms and thighs.
The blackness chased away the sun, and my eyelids felt heavy. I for once was thankful for the pills that were forced down my throat.
I will lay still in hopes of a dreamless night or a sleep that never end.
I have no wish for another dawn.
copyright 2007 Labyrinth of Life, a compilation of poems and short stories
The forest Of never
Beckons to me
branches waving
like the sea
Curious to see
what lay within
I lay down my pack
And wander in
round a boulder
through a vale
I did walk
as moon paled
All the way
the forest
whispered
shuffled and snorts
angry to ear
like a cold retort
As I meander
slowly by
Rarely
do I see
a glimpse of sky
Finally
like a punch
to the head
The trail
just died
It stopped dead
whilst I pondered
my present condition
An idea?
A further proposition
The forest alive
it maybe
but not aware
of my wandering free
Like a moth
to a lamp
was I to never
thus will be paired
like this forever …
All we eat is elk meat, boiled elk, roasted elk, elk jerky
sometimes fried elk if we get bear or whale oil,
oh, and sometimes elk soup,
for four months we've subsisted exclusively on elk
except for occassional dog meat, candlefish or duck,
the elk have become our saviors, and our culinary suffering,
yet it keeps us nourished like some kind of ape predators,
Clark has officially named the massive boulder at the front of the bay
Cape Disappointment on account that its now March 1806
and since November no one has spotted a merchant vessel
nor has any trading post been discovered along the coast in either direction,
frankly its astounding, has the world done gone forgotten that the Columbia exists,
everyone is gettin uppidy as bull frogs
and we've had enough rainy hours here to last ten lifetimes,
to hell with the sailors, we've gotta race to finish
and we ain't gonna get beat by a disappointment or by a sinister suprise,
Load'em up!...
Since coming out of the Rocky Mountains
like a migrating pack of wolves pursuing the scent of a bloodied den
I've been spending more time away from the river's rigors
providing fresh meats for the mission that we leave hanging along designated banks,
for the first time I feel liberated from the fear of failure
winter can no longer hurts us,
the great mysteries of the continental crossing have been revealed
through their savagery and splendor
the tribes have been touched with a new spirit of survival
animals ferocious and exotic have been tasted and classified
we have learned what these landscapes can lend to farming legions,
the mountains no longer menace us, we know how to travel their pain,
as my horse feeds on the grass of unowned soil
I reflect on my moments of intemperance with the natives
when I thrashed a Chinook thief into bleeding shame,
the order I gave to burn their village to silent ash when my dog and saddle were stolen
fortunately that was not necessary because I got them back,
the time I was meanly mocked by a Nez Perce Indian for eating dog meat
and threatened to split his skull with my tomahawk if he ever insulted me again,
J.A.B.
Generally, the flow of the river
Is engaging, wonderful, inviting
My LOVE wanted to take me rafting
So that I could learn what humanity is fighting
To the left, I see an abandoned child
Sleeping on the thorny bank
Suddenly, a boulder arose
And my heart sank
....to the bottom
The rocks cut my feet
As I walked the rocky bed
I saw an orphan
Who had been left for dead
Then I saw a child
Yell profanity's at his mother
As he expressed his anger
At being held accountable for another
...bottom feeder
An old and dear friend
Shunned my open arms of care
Though I have full reign of the River
She pushed me to stay where
...she'd placed me
An elderly man escorts a child
To buy her physical affection
Without natural affinity
To fight and ensure her protection
But the loaded gun
I took from the child's hand
Was Mama making him responsible
For his baby brother in Playland
...while she grew fat
As I realized that I can't shoot
And I'm opposed to the handling of steal
I passed it to my LOVE
And floated up to the top to embrace what is real
We finished our ride through humanity
To a decision that had to be made
Hopelessness pushed to blacken LOVE
But it was to LOVE, I freely laid
...despair
Written by Trudy Schrader on 08-06-2018
A deeper silence diffuses rapidly around Nature waiting
for its awakening, a shine less, discontent and wandering
star gleams with a scarcely light so murky and feeble;
then dissipates itself in the faded, whitish blue; the blinding
sun illuminates the dull, tired, moody moon in slow orbit...
while the big, round sun irradiates it making it less visible:
No curious vagabond questions the wonderous unfolding!
Suddenly the hidden larks begin warbling
their enharmonic notes startle whom is listening;
they are the very first creatures to announce
the hour of awakening that the faithless denounce!
The aromatic breeze, so inebriant, is strong enough
for one to savor the sweetness of their fruits,
and they are free for the eager asker's mouth;
be them weary travelers or steady wanderers!
And as daises and roses are randomly awoken by intense light,
their droopy petals drip with warm dew: were they weeping?
All flowers are greeted with a brilliance so rare and blinding,
then, the drowsy ravens start croaking and engage in flight!
A bright morning isn't too festive without the nearby bells' echo,
it fades out when the speedy train chums to break the harmony;
I recite my morning prayer more ardent in tone, almost a bravado
and it intimidated the wretched fellow cursing God for his infirmity!
Melancholy spreads far and wide conquering the below valley,
the scattered towns appeared even smaller from mount so steep;
the noisy cascade, descending from the rocky boulder, flows quietly:
it forms a wild river bubbling among rocks as it heads for the deep!
In the hour of awakening, sadness pervades over all landscapes;
it's time for rest, for meditation, for prayer, for dreams to awaken;
does anybody like shadows and stare at owls huddled on trees...
hearing their creepy sound that frighten the senses easily shaken?
Home was no longer her home.
Thoughts of survival clouded her future.
She dragged the boulder tied to her feet,
each reluctance etched upon her face.
She walked through the dark night,
blending her body with a silhouette.
Together they moved—
hiding her from her past,
exposing her to a blurred tomorrow—
of uncertainty,
of hopelessness,
and of danger.
The strangeness of his accent
carried her beyond mountains~
where birds croaked
like frogs seeking mates.
“Why waste this beauty in the cold?”
She wondered
if beauty had finally found her face.
No one had ever used that word
to clothe her eighteen years of ugliness.
Perhaps he knew she was new to the street—
but she cared less.
To be called beautiful
was relief enough.
Years of grief dissolved in a second.
She smiled—transient, delicately fragile—
as joy briefly veiled the tears
the darkness hid from him.
He took her home.
Suddenly, home became beautiful—
not rotten wood,
not smelly gutters.
She met his youngest child first—her age mate,
then two others, older by years.
Disappointment pricked her heart:
she could not lie upon his chest,
could not whisper darling—
a word stolen from her lips
twenty-five years earlier
by a stranger
who now calls her “daughter.”
Yet the word still burned
like an ember on her tongue.
She longed to taste it,
but she knew it would be bitter.
She loved this kind stranger—
but her love for him
remained
u n r e a c h a b l e.
Design Terms and Recognition
The Formation of
Drought Magazine came with
a group of people wishing Public founding.
They (will) look to seek a place to
create the new Magazine.
upon creation they sought a place to work.
they didn't want any old office building.
they wanted something special.
they chose a place.
They wanted to build a cave like dwelling
to be the main office for
there magazine.
They hired a concrete specailist to design a
four walled slab ceiling place above ground but
then boulder and concrete and dirt would
cover the place and appear to be a natural
underground cave with big windows facing the west. and a chimmey and fireplace
where the steel chimmey would
come out pile aof cemented bouldrs.
The guy thought they were Loooney at firt but they
found ways to cut the budget and make the buid affordable.
14-9-3-0.....
I stand infront of a mirror...
Beholding my reflection in an hour..
As Slowly, I am amused to devour..
I notice changes more and more..
Have I grown old that fast?
Stressors and problems that pass
I sighted it's effects that may last..
I do not like to gush and rush..
For I want to enjoy in as much..
Tic tac! tic tac!, says the clock..
Don't get stuck, Don't get stuck..
Liking myself from a boulder or a rock..
Though a wind flows strongly aghast..
There's assurance it will not break or crack..
outside, I wanted to be like that..
yet inside, nothing but a soft firm lass..
Good or bad experiences, I have..
Not that I don't care as long as I'm love..
I don't want to rough but definitely tough..
Fearless yet Heart-full like a vamp..
(C) olIVE ELOISA
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