Long Chattering Poems
Long Chattering Poems. Below are the most popular long Chattering by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chattering poems by poem length and keyword.
Sensibilities shaped and slapped and stolen. (aha)
I am indeed a borrowed man.
For where amongst my stirrings stand
priori grand?
Mission thwarted by a bell.
Noble tell.
Some soul such as mine
even, ever thus, declined.
Brokered deal appealed
in youthful fancy;
clung as clung today.
A skyward, inward, aching chance.
Once rejoiced.
A face more mine than my own.
All skin each day
the morning shone.
Bark un-burled.
Shadow long uncurled to rust.
Untrusted flag re-furled;
Scattered in what mattered, dust.
Awoke to see the joke.
First impression lasting,
reality unmasking,
I am Thee.
A fraud become.
Mashed potato brained
and stew of everyman.
Another pauper’s heart proffered
for a token:
Stolen, broken, borrowed,
a cobbled, curse of words.
No glory left ingrained
this shallow story
unrefined and rained
upon us all.
Long verse of silence,
then still.
Until more silence comes
from up the hill.
mon u mental moment,
overturned by seed or ant.
can to can’t.
broken dancer’s leg,
blinded painter,
broken banker.
suicide with empty gun.
far worse than hollow
lifetime borrowed,
and chattering to gatherings as though tomorrows come with new surprises
there is only one
surprise.
and here it is.
I went for a walk through the woods, like I do each Fall;
for it's a sensual treat at this time of year.
And I came across a grove of ancient oak trees,
shedding amber, yellow, and golden leaves;
gilding the ground, like scattered nuggets of gold.
The air smelt of Autumn, an earthy-sweet musk;
cool, crisp, and invigorating.
A chattering chipmunk scolded me incessantly:
as I neared a knurled stump, it was guarding;
loudly chastising me for invading its space.
The ground crunched and crackled under my feet,
as I walked on a bedding of filigreed leaves;
resembling a golden fleece.
As brisk breezes rippled through swaying treetops:
their bare branches rattled like skeleton bones.
Indulging my inner child, I fashioned an Autumn Angel;
spreading and swiping my arms and legs,
I sculpted an Angel out of leaves instead of snow.
And I lay there awhile smiling, soaking in Nature's magnificence;
immersed in the grandeur and beauty of Fall.
XXXX
A bookworm me..believe myself to be artistic, reflective, compassionate, spiritual.
Sister of Tamal, an artist and a poet...inspired by the talents of my brother.
Love to vision three goals accepted by the world - women empowerment, justice for all, equal opportunities for children.
I feel grateful, blissful, content with what I am born with.
I do fear direct confrontation, dealing with rudeness and unfairness, afraid of losing my musical voice.
I would like to enjoy flowers dancing in the wind, emerald waves lapping on the sandy beach, waterfalls cascading on coral rocks.
A proud resident of multi-cultural Mississauga, a vibrant city in Ontario.
My last name - Ray - easy to spell and pronounce.
Delightful voices of my children I miss,
Chattering, giggling around me - crave for that bliss
At evening dinner, feel sad to see empty chairs,
Except when joyful celebrations are in the air!
On my walk through the Autumn woods,
I hear the cracking crunch of leaves.
And whistling through the bare branches,
brisk breezes shriek like a banshee.
A chatty squirrel barks and squeaks
on my walk through the Autumn woods.
And as dusk dims, I hear an owl,
hooting lowly in the distance.
A woodpecker's tap, tap, tapping
echoes off a hollowed-out log.
On my walk through the Autumn woods,
Nature's natural sounds abound.
A chattering chipmunk scolds me
in a loud barrage of shrill chirps.
And I hear a gnarled old oak groan,
on my walk through the Autumn woods.
Silence loud enough
To burst my ear drums
With a soprano voice
That clears my senses
Of all its rubbish
~
All I can truly think of
Is the people who once
Sat around my living room
Talking, chattering, on and on
About nothing important
~
Laughter seems so long ago
That it awakens my memories
To the hilarity of it all
The humor that imposes on my
Heart’s attention to happiness
~
Wherever I go, whichever room
In the house where I live
There are hues of deep moments
Spent sharing my life with them
My family, long gone now
~
I stare at the pages of a book
And welcome the midnight hour
When I leave the living room
To enter the bedroom, lie down
And wonder where the time has gone
~
Night sounds whisper to me
Owls ho-ho-ho across the yard
A cat’s screech in the barn
Howls from the hills at a moon
Not so alone – after all, it has the stars
The sun had set.. Empty nights along teeth chattering cold nights. A silent still quiet night.. Stillness it is as I lay me down to sleep. As silent and still as the night. There is much noise in my thoughts of what once was. Nights once filled with the serenity of having another by side. Remove the noise of thought, as I listen to the stillness of the night. Silent it is to my knowing. Within my knowing I am in full discernment of who I am. Through the beauty of silence within myself. There is peace and serenity followed by gratitude. Through all of the darkness there sheds a massive light.. A light illuminates in all. An illumination of no separation.. Collective explosion of togetherness.
In childhood the main attraction was the park
Nothing was better than play and games
I was the last to leave the park till dark.
At the center a big tree with dense leaves stood
providing shelter of flock of parrots.
To piece my ears their chirping was too loud
As the parrots returned to their nests in evening.
I became alert to finish my play.
Chattering of parrots worked as warning.
Swing sets, Sea-saw, slips were crowded
But I had no attraction at all.
To play games of two teams I was addicted.
Array of Sunflowers cheerfully nodded their heads in one corner
Grass hoppers and butterflies disturbed the flowers.
To drive them away was my daily activity, so far I remember.
As the school was over and last bell rang to open school gates
Cheers and joy flashed on my heart.
Being back home, I rushed to park to meet my playmates.
To win the game was the only aim and I played till dark.
Park turned a part of my life.
Life circulated focusing on game associated with the park
.
I do not know if I should tell you the tale of the persistent ghost
But since it is a campfire, how could I not? Being the good host.
It is spooky and creepy, and might make you scream at the end.
Okay. I can tell already you need to cuddle, so find a good friend.
Are you ready for the tale? Promise you will not be scared to death.
Go get a blanket and a pillow. It’s a long one, told to me by Auntie Meth.
Yes, of course it is real. It happened to her in the weird house she lives in.
She is not the only one who told me. I also heard it from Ethy, her twin.
They were having a séance in the attic on a spooky stormy night.
Luckily they had brought up matches and candles for some extra light.
Shutters of the attic slammed shut, and then they heard heavy breathing.
My uncle who had bragged about his bravery was last seen quickly leaving.
We knew something weird was in the room with us, my Auntie Meth told me.
Ethy felt it first, because she is as psychic and clairvoyant as can be.
She sees spirits, smells them, and sometimes hear them speak her name.
I was starting to quiver as they told me this, for I can secretly do the same.
My teeth were chattering as the tale was unfurled by my Aunt so witless.
Picturing that dastardly, dreadful, dark attic that always scared me spotless.
Are you okay? She faked concern to fool the other kids who were there.
The truth is she could be a fierce, mean, ugly aunt, who truly did not care.
I nodded my head and tried to stop shaking as she explained about the light.
The lights went out and we were all stuck in that attic feeling such a fright.
An unexpected crawly thing went up my left arm and I let out a huge scream.
Everyone else screamed. We heard a strange voice, and this was not a dream.
Sounds of the Day sound loud
Sounds of the day ceaseless go, know no specific bounds,
Since day dawns, noon deepens, merges to night to convince.
Chattering -chirping of birds, cries of domestic chores scattering,
Nasty noises of vexing vehicles go continuous hasty.
Cracking sound of wheels, blowing horns turn law-breaking.
Crowd yells, either avoid or be a part being proud.
Arrogance sounds good on shouting day of nuisance.
Run on days to cope with busy noisy life, but have fun.
Loud you are, bold to shout as life will sound.
Fight of marital clash on noisy day get cancelled on calm night.
Observe days full of noises to meet silent night with love.
06/19/16
I pick up their idle chatter five days of the week.
Conversation with other passengers, I never seek
to learn of a secret one of them might privately leak.
But try as I might, I cannot help but overhear
a new recipe she tried, or the reason for his fear.
Sometimes, I wish I was deaf, at least in one ear!
I try reading my newspaper and ignore the prattle,
but often it's louder than the train car's rattle.
I'm not interested in the gossip of their tittle tattle.
At least the man with the cigar, smokes it outside,
or I'd take another tram. Cigar stench I can't abide.
I live in the burbs, so it's a long way home I ride.
Today, there's a young lady who wouldn't take a seat.
She looks worried, or at least somewhat browbeat,
like the people I work with down at Dun & Bradstreet.
I often wonder what's on the young conductor's mind.
Does he despise his job because he feels confined?
I'm off at the next stop, where I leave them all behind.