Long Chaff Poems
Long Chaff Poems. Below are the most popular long Chaff by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chaff poems by poem length and keyword.
Separating the wheat from chaff magic prisoner
From the dust of darkness you are born from ash remains
having walked a crooked pathway inside regrets
buried under sparkling silver lining clouds lights up
Lightening strikes hitting earthy notes trembling voices
falling thunder echoes from dying embers of pain
a star spangled vision igniting flames, peaces torch
I can feel it in your eyes as oceans mist over
Salted inside a triangle of lie holds apex
from the hidden truth centre eye exposed one corner
Three you are where hidden facts remain tortured hotly
our souls know where the fifty shades of grey shape shadows
nothing comes under smoke is ever white underneath
Let the breath of heaven flow with grace,
As the gathering of angels fills this place.
Soaring high, both near and wide,
His Name, our banner, strength and guide.
Refine the oil, let its glow be bright,
Let our lives shine with newfound light.
The table cleared, a meal prepared,
The taste is unknown, yet richly shared.
New strength will rise, our souls renew,
As chaff falls off, our eyes see true.
Soar higher still, both far and near,
Review the vision, make it clear.
Let God reveal the one piece so bold,
That makes the new vision to unfold.
Stop and see the enemy’s sway,
Unusual creatures bring delay.
Yet God brings joy to light our stay,
His Hand will guide, His truth will stay.
Topple the foes who seek control,
Let revival sound where your feet stroll.
In loves harbor moored in the dock of regression
and anchored in the quicksand of incontinence
as briny waves of inconstancy wash over my jaded bough
scouring my white-washed deck over and over
leaving the silty residue of bartered romances
tarnishing the fibers of my brigand hull
peeling back the glossy facade that coated my proud vessel
the drift wood of jilted lovers floats all around
shrouding my leased yacht with the residual chaff
of once fertile fronds that bloomed with romance
then were blighted by the cankering disease of insincerity
tides bring in the brackish seaweed of of salty flings
that never rooted my wandering eye or planted my wavering feet
which were tossed to and fro by a truant wind
constantly moving in a listless, uncharted direction
bandied about by the restless currents of change
barges of opprobrium clamor about in my choppy waters
tugging at my corroded conscience pushing the dross
of my intemperate, impulsive dalliances into my feckless psyche
No raised pinnacle marked the place
No pure white limestone shining
Where Ramesses slept looked commonplace
to foil the robbers scrying.
Yet he had moved the earth and sky
this pharaoh disdained all rivals.
His bounty buried beneath the sand
portrayed a life beneath blue skies
his star encrusted tomb ethereal
his Ka rising from Death’s hand.
The hills of Thebes his place of rest
and beneath him his father lay
amongst the great he’d be the highest
his battle standards on display.
He ruled with iron hand on staff
as a Godhead he was portrayed.
Most mighty and acclaimed, no man
was he, who felled the Hittite chaff;
beneath his chariots wheels flayed
the denizens of Egypt’s land.
Worshiped was he in temples true
his semblance graces Abu Simbel
with eyes wide o’er lake so blue
his gaze belays the infidels.
Beside him she, Nefertari
laid claim to a sacred place
held above all others his wife
most renowned for her beauty
a love to last through time and space
may all true hearts pay such tariff.
Any time I return, my heart starts to ache,
For Granny, dear Danny, no one could fake.
Beloved of children, of girls and of boys,
A pillar of courage, a bringer of joys.
Where is the laughter, the sparkle, the glow?
She rests in the quiet, the woods far below.
Your harvest endured from season to season,
Your coins lay in pillows, safe with good reason.
Merchants adored your grains-gleaming gold,
Never a kernel of chaff to be sold.
Where is the farmer, the banker, the glow?
She rests in the quiet, the woods far below.
Each time I left or returned from the city,
Your prayers, your hugs, your dances and smiles,
Kept me unworried and happy for miles
Your gentle short frowns, your anger so mild,
Could never outlast the heart of a child.
You’d beckon us close to taste what you made,
As though your sure hands in the kitchen might fade.
Do you still smile, dance, pray, and bestow—
Or just rest in the quiet, the woods far below.
I could never tire of your welcoming home,
A compound so wide, yet you swept every loam.
A grandmother’s house, yet spotless and bright,
With a pot of warm porridge that lasted each night.
The endless calabash we drained to the brim,
And fruits without seasons, forever in prim.
We still long for granny, the friend that we know,
But she rests in the quiet, the woods far below.
By Teacher Kevin Ouma
I am at the end of the road with you
my lonesome dear,
get to the nuts and bolts
stop playing with yourself in the rain
the seeds you plant,
the red herrings you emit,
all chaff
your misery
all hatches in your head
your future
again, all hatches in your head
somebody needs to give birth
to a better outlook
as much as you read me
I read you as a book, too
you do see?
we're just like
two little graying doves
sitting in separate trees
that's fine
but you need to stop looking at me
stop talking about me
writing fairy tale happy endings
and then bemoaning your fate
honey, you had your oyster, pearl
you had your prime rib
right at your fingertips
within your grasp
you turned a blind's eye
a funny eye
you couldn't stand prosperity
instead you wanted to be miserable
that's fine
but not with me
so for all I care, honey,
go play with yourself in the rain
wish for nuts and bolts
whatever,
I'm exhausted with you
I am at the end of the road with you
... for good
... this time
connie pachecho
1/6/17
non contest entry
Memories written in my book of life
Some carve out everlasting joy and some everlasting sorrow
Each one is precious as it guides our tomorrow
Who can forget the first crush or sideways glance
The first steamy kiss or awkward dance
Who can forget the starry bridal night
Lovers caught up with each other in arms so tight
A mother’s musing, the baby she brought forth in this world
Its tiny fingers curled into hers
Who can forget the day we stood proud,
Holding our degrees, our head in the cloud.
Who can forget the first paycheck
The way we slowly climbed the career deck
A mother’s musing, the daughter now standing tall
And the time when she first caught her first fall
Who can forget the people who caused us pain and those who made us laugh
Those who taught us life’s lessons and to separate the wheat from the chaff
Who can forget loved ones laid to rest and children leaving their parents nest
A mother’s once beautiful now wrinkled face looks from the mirror
Speaking the silent story of our life’s beautiful memoir
always ...
"always", you confessed me ...
"until the stars themselves grow cold ... "
"and far, far beyond their spin."
my heart was young ...
it was as dew of the dawning -
fresh, sparkling with fascination,
ready to soak the brightness from day.
foolish lad ... callow and foolish ...
so hungry for the fruits of life and love,
that words were served up as the bloom of the banquet,
dripping in the guises that time and reality would come to scald.
oh, wisdom is the blade that cuts the chaff,
that severs all those once-heartfelt sprouts of romance and fire
from their green and ripe fastenings ...
aye, I still taste the sweet of those honeyed phrases,
the ones I placed all matter and intent within ...
the words that wound the threads of our hearts to a rope, secure,
and I wonder, with all wonder and awe,
how, if they were so genuine - so sacred -
can they be so frayed and fallow now?
naught but ashes to the cold wind ...
embers gutted to the dark ...
of Heaven.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Strand Choice G, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
balance in life is not easy to achieve,
you may be torn between duty and love,
how you think may not be how they think of you,
your best intentions may be misunderstood!
Here is what I have to say to you...
learn to be kind but do not be weak,
be helpful but do not be a slave,
learn to forgive, but not be passive to evil,
learn to be quick but do not be hasty,
aim high but hurt not those below you,
have wealth but let moral be your guide,
be brave but never be a bully!
in life-tasks know wheat from chaff,
know good friends from those that are not!
but learn to live in harmony with them all,
for worst enemies one day may become friends!
life goes in cycles of have and have not,
so give when you have and never hoard,
when you have not have patience to bear,
when given be humble to receive with gratitude,
the flame of life in you is your very own,
let not others put out that flame for their reasons,
but use it to light good hopes in others!
We have much to learn from the boat in the river,
the boat has to be friends with the waves,
but cannot let the waves dictate its journey!
You are the guardian angel of your own dreams,
do not let others make your dreams a nightmare!
Cut out the bad part
Just like cancer
The perfect solution
The ultimate answer
Oh, if only I could isolate
The purest property
Maybe I’d get a handle on
My inhumanity
Weed out the bad stuff
Chaff from wheat
Make the good half
The thing complete
Oh, if only we could separate
The water from the oil
The consummate broth, the ideal brew
Before it started to boil
One drop taints the mixture –
Part and parcel of the mass
The formula is its element
One pupil is the class
I’m a mixed bag, a curate’s egg –
Take the bad with the good
It’s only in this way modern man
Can ever be understood
Cut out the bad part
Just like cancer
The seismic solution
The cosmic answer
There’s Stephen Hawking
In his old wheelchair
Who would believe all infinity
Could be rattling around in there?