Long Chatters Poems

Long Chatters Poems. Below are the most popular long Chatters by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chatters poems by poem length and keyword.


The Aberdare Ranges Kenya

Dawn, when silence falters
And the trees of the range- 
Are tucked in a bucket of fog
Marching dawn, whose beauty never alters,
I tuck myself in blankets like a log
At the Treetops Hotel upon the range
Dainty dreams upon dawn’s altar

The dappled peacock dazes the dawn
While the African crowned eagle 
Will soar, prowling for prey
And tourists peep and picture the fawn
While their eyes prowl the breakfast tray
Jacaranda festooned fashion regal
Its blue flowers blue snowfall upon dawn

Elephants trudge to the watering hole
Buffalo follow, even the bush buck
The warthog always walks silly,
The big five will steal your soul
At the Ark's perch, you will be stuck
The water adorned by the pond lily
The range's serenity, waters your soul

Pristine streams gush from the moorlands
The Hagenia, decked in velvet green
The sword lily, sheathed in fibrous tunic
And as the Karuru falls hit land
True love will pierce to the gene
For pristine nature, is the true cupid.
Breaths bated as lovers hold hand

Further, nestled nigh in the blue skies
The Kinangop peak, peeking through
The closer I get, the further it hides
A sun bird chatters, along my trail's high
My eyes in tune, such wondrous hillsides 
I sweat as I head towards the bamboo
I am among the butterflies

Ringlets in a dance, oh! Surreal world
Monkeys swing, tree to tree, a trail of imagination
A reed buck is openly grazing
A canvas of the grassland in its gold
I spot a Serval cat, in hiding
On a safari truck, the breeze is an inspiration 
Beauty flows in the altitudes that I behold

At dusk the steeped villages prepare for sleep
The Nyandarua range, yawns its last
Fabled home of the Kikuyu god
Curtain like shadows befall the steep
And this wonderland begins to nod
As the women fluff off days dust fast
Men’s ears wide open as it darkens deep

Wild animals are known to visit
Roving around, excitement for the young
But the animals are known to visit hungry
The locals know too well, memories vivid
An elephant’s wrath is meted out bluntly
Protection for man and beast not far flung 
Conservation and nurture is the spirit

As Mount Satima watches her watered floors,
She knows the heart goes deep



 Collaboration with njeri hunjeri who is a wonderful poet
© Marugu Mo  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


The Aberdare Ranges Kenya

Dawn, when silence falters
And the trees of the range- 
Are tucked in a bucket of fog
Marching dawn whose beauty never alters.
I tuck myself in blankets like a log
At the Treetops Hotel upon the range
Dainty dreams upon dawns altar

The dappled peacock dazes the dawn
While the African crowned eagle 
Will soar, prowling for prey
And tourists peep and picture the fawn
While their eyes prowl the breakfast tray
Jacaranda festooned fashion regal
Its blue flowers blue snowfall upon dawn

Elephants trudge to the watering hole
Buffalo follow, even the bush buck
The warthog always walks silly,
The big five will steal your soul
At the Ark's perch, you will be stuck
The water adorned by the pond lily
The range's serenity, waters your soul

Pristine streams gush from the moorlands
The Hagenia, decked in velvet green
The sword lily, sheathed in fibrous tunic
And as the Karuru falls hit land
True love will pierce to the gene
For pristine nature, is the true cupid
Breaths bated as lovers hold hand

Further, nestled nigh in the blue skies
The Kinangop peak, peeking through
The closer I get, the further it hides
A sun bird chatters, along my trail's high
My eyes in tune, such wondrous hillsides 
I sweat as I head towards the bamboo
I am among the butterflies

Ringlets in a dance, oh! surreal world
Monkeys swing, tree to tree, a  trail of imagination
A reed buck is openly grazing
A canvas of the grassland in its gold
I spot a Serval cat, in hiding
On a safari truck, the breeze is an inspiration 
Beauty flows in the altitude that I behold

At dusk the steeped villages prepare for sleep
The Nyandarua range yawns it's last
Fabled home of the Kikuyu god
Curtain like shadows befall the steep
And this wonderland begins to nod
As the women fluff off days dust fast
Mens ears wide open as it darkens deep

Wild animals are known to visit
Roving around, excitement for the young
But the animals are known visit hungry
The locals know too well, memories vivid
An elephants wrath is meted out bluntly
Protection for man and beast not far flung 
Conservation and nurture is the spirit

As Mount Satima watches her watered floors,
She knows the heart goes deep
Form: Rhyme

Demon Tales




 The path splits as unfortune would tell
  The crooked, splintered sign gives warn
   One says that it's the Highway to Hell
    The other points to The Children of the Corn

 Sudden dizziness overwhelms your entire Being
  Vertigo has seem to have spun you around
   The fog and mist hinder what you are seeing
    Your legs cramp up as you fall to the ground

 The mind numbs into a state of confusion
  Unable to decide which path to take
   Maybe it is all just an optical illusion
    That this creepy feeling is just a fake

 Standing you wobble and veer to the right
  Taken as a sign your path is chosen
   The Darkness has painted the blackest of night
    Blind with frightened feet now frozen 

 A sudden wind so warm yet gives you a chill
  Erupts from somewhere an unknown direction
   Shhh be quiet hold completely still
    As the wind whispers "You have no protection"

 Panic drips sweat down a furrowed brow
  And pools around your sinking feet
   Your mind screams to do something now
    Your Soul only feels the agony of defeat

 Now waist deep paralyzed in fear
  All motor skills seem to have died
   Passing your chest just under your ear
    Dancing in the Devils undertow tide

 Panic short changes your very last breath
  As the pool of tears pulls you deep within
   Strong hands pull down into certain death
    Lungs fill with the hot blood of sin

 Thoughts no longer seem to make sense
  As you plummet down to the earths core
   The pull of this gravity is just too intense
    As you slam face first into a burning red door

 The door bursts open into this fiery cave
  The noise now chatters of the insane
   Pain explodes while flames lick your grave
    Sanity burns out all the remnants of sane

 The Red Beast appears laughing in Hell's sky
  Flashing his fake veneer evil smile
   Please this isn't real rubbing your eye
    Laughing in your ear this Devil in denial

 Hot it's so hot as organs start to boil
  The putrid smell of fire burnt skin
   Change you feel as a new tail uncoils
    New chapter, new life as a Demon begins 




 Written for poetry contest "Scary Stories" 10/08/24
                Hosted by: Crystol Woods
Form: Rhyme

Move Away Leave Him Alone He Is Not Right

Move away, Leave him alone, He’s not right
 
Daddy take me to nursery
Yes Son, no problem

Lies, lies, mask my fears

It is a huge problem

Just my thoughts, no words, shield his innocent young ears
Smile look happy, act like a perfect Daddy

Cold sweats, pumping heart, on my way to his school
A journey of dread, my shielded head protects me from stranger’s stares
Head down look at the floor
Avoid at all costs everyone’s burning glares
 
Getting close now, many parents now transfixed on me with their thousand mile stares
Children’s white noise, adults idles chatters
Do what is needed then escape, the only thing that matters
Get in, drop off, and avoid any contact at all cost
 
“Come on Daddy, you need to help”
Panic grows, I can’t remember anything, my mind grows blank
 
Temperature rising, chest tightening, walls closing in
A voice from behind starts to spout unwanted advice

“His shoes don’t go there”
“Have you forgotten his slippers?”
“No, no that’s not his peg”

I must escape, let me out, let me go, my mind is crushed followed by a plead and beg
I want to scream, but panic has engulfed me
I kiss him goodbye and say “see you soon”.
I feel helpless and lonely, a real buffoon
 
Sprint out of the door, grab the push chair
Run and escape, distance myself from a situation I cannot bare
Heart is beating so fast, soon it will burst
Breathless, weak, helpless, frightened and alone.
 
I collapse on the pavement, cover my head.
Roll in a ball, shake, sob, wail and moan.

Grab the pushchair, try to get up.
No use as I collapse back down in a heap on the floor.
Frustration and anger, a myriad of dark emotions I cannot take this anymore
 
Voices approaching, teenage kids walk by, then stop.
 
Laughing and pointing at a floored and feeble sight
I try to get up and way using all of my might
 
Another voice utters words that will forever haunt, filling me with feelings of flight, but sadly no fight

“Move away, leave him alone, he is not right”
 
I get home after an eternity.
Look at the clock, dreading the same again, how can this be

I cry and cry dreading the thought of doing it all again, at half past three
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Chilblains Are Myth

narcissistic negativity in higher learning.
nods of forget-me-nots, knots in shyness
satisfying unconfidence - look at me,
don’t look at me, pass by, stop...please.

brat in me left for a funeral, fuming dissonance;
meanwhile friends thought I was dead, falling
off the precipice of this world, woe is me;
shame...I should feel shame at sharp turn
from reality - negativity my play.

the dead fell into me, he was condemned
to die an untimely death from pot, “they say.”
poor lot of the dead, drudgery of debt —
undefiled, dallying not with love nor hate.

i hated the solo seat next to this strange, pudgy boy -
he was only a boy, a barbizon actor - parting was such sweet sorrow,
he left the Globe Theater.

my bland diet of diurnal tides, wicked flow
of upset and woe, dictated by me - 
for eternity i think not;
the shredmonster to grind the grandiose
conjecture of a silly girl’s thoughts,
thoughtless and lost.

now i know every life counts:
the drowned, the blood-ill, the poisoned
and the one-way erasure.

every moment counted - the countless counting
in math class, the superb poems i kissed or
absentmindedly missed, hysterical history
superciliously rendered to simple ears,
later pierced with inlaid gems — truth.

what is truth, asked by ages past - past my prime,
prim and proper squeezed through butt cheeks.
we must laugh, not just in the dark but in open places.

tear the pieces of my heart, the decor relentless
however i see through arbitrary glasses, classes
taught by God. i pray don’t break me. fragile glass,
shards sunken in — buried in the ocean sand.

my personality could split in half, in quarters —
behind the shed. negativity relishing, nodding.

positive i will not end up this way. my vocabulary 
shan’t never be small, again i shall pour out
pages and pages of potential balm.

moisturizing at my age necessary — when you’re a child,
chilblains are myth. catharsis
chitter-chatters better with false teeth and assorted feathers.

12/5/2020
Contest: Catharis
Sponsor: Silent One

*Shakespeare


Premium Member The Hinge Whisperers

The universe creaks on tiny, sublime hinges.
Time swings in space-time, frayed at the fringes.
Each squeal is a cipher, a riddle to implore,
For a small iron whisper that unlatches the door.

Dreams swing on hinges where memory's ghosts hide.
Half-truths and illusions roll in with the tide.
They glimmer, they scatter, they beckon once more,
Through half-open gateways, and a half-open door.

A rusty hinge is furious; it moans with all its might.
It groans with a grinding burden too heavy to fight.
Its sorrow is relentless, its voice a grating roar,
A fracture that longs to close, bolting the door.

Each heartbeat has a hinge to swing open, recall.
It shuts out sorrow, but lets joy in, to all.
Its hinge chatters; it flutters; it listens for clues.
To filter what enters the soul's drive-through's.

At dusk, the day's bronze hinge is on standby.
Day sinks into silence; the night awaits its reply.
Timing is delicate; a groan, a whisper, or a song,
As fleeting shadows find rhythm and shuffle along.

The mind is a doorway that swings in late breezes,
It opens, it closes, it pants, it begs, as it pleases.
From folly to wisdom, from basement to high spire,
A small hinge of thought can spark reason’s fire.

Love leans on its hinges, both weak and true,
It squeaks when neglected; it splinters into two.
But kindness can oil it, and faith guards the door,
So two hearts on hinges can swing together some more.

The past lies in a doorway with hinges of stone,
It groans when it opens, it sighs when it’s shown.
Yet memories linger on, they hunger for more,
Knocking for entry to door still locked as before.

The future is waiting on hinges yet to be seen,
It echoes in light beams, with glimmers between.
Each moment is a sneak preview of what's in store,
Through cracks in the door, that has not been opened before.

So marvel at the mighty hinge, with its knuckles and a nail.
It carries the key to enabling life to be at full-scale.
With a sneak preview, a whisper, an echo, or a roar.
Each tiny hinge sets things in motion; it opens the door.
Form: Lyric

The light in your Heart

Search diligently until you find it and when you find it run a thousand miles  and  deliver it, do not hide it in the bushes or in the trees you must deliver it to thee, look out for the vagabonds on the way, hold your head straight and don’t listen to what they  say, they are distractors  that lurks around to delay the time but the universe knows exactly what is mine I have work hard to earn it and you have to deliver it, they will deliver  the verdict next week and at last your sprit will be free.

Climb the mountain in the East, stand on the summit and penetrate the vastness of the land the layers that lies beyond the sea, wrap your shadows around it and pull the energy towards you and feel your body sway with the wind and feel the light shining within, let your spirit grow and let the sorrows go;
Fill the empty spaces with laughter and feel the joy of tomorrow.
Let the wind blow and calm your soul, let the wind blow
And make you whole, tear down the branches of time
And fill your heart with the divine, stretch your hands towards
The sea and say a prayer for thee, listen to the sound of the roaring waves and the chatters of fishermen out in the deep
And watch the mad waves rocking their boat to and fro, they
Don’t have much further to go; the seas are rough and the sharks are waiting with empty guts.

Walk with me to the next end of the sea and unfold the mystery
Embedded in ocean bed, that is where the  sharks dined on  twenty two hundreds head, not a trace of it could be found when the left the frantic town, but the light  discovered and rise it up to the surface of  the sea.

Reveal the mysteries of the sea and the universe will rescue thee
Send me a thousand fleet of ships were are going to take the final dip we will rid the universe its pain and your life will never be the same. Anchor the ships and sit with me and I will tell you more, the light I me is shine bright and we will have a grand jubilee in the sky, wave your banners above the  sea and plant the flags in the air we are coming to see you over there.
Form: Prose

God Is Watching, Sleepily..

The Scene: 
An explosion! 
From those picking.. limbs tear
cabbages and cucumbers  
combing children's hair
mixing with the backseat 
of a zealot's Mercedes Benz
the gunpowder,  smells of lamb, 
and cotton, all blend 
into a bitter, woolen, 
prayerful smoldering
the faces, each one, 
 a sorrowful gurgling.. 

God sniffs, looking puzzled.. 
as usual, murmuring 
'Why is this happening? 
All this crumbling and burning!
Am I the god of Job, 
of the savior foretold, 
of the maiden unrobed, 
of the crocodile's fold?' 
'I created them all, 
the most beautiful of races,
with a worn, savage love 
for me in dry places, 
I gave them this desert, 
the Sirocco, sand dunes
where they hopelessly 
struggle above catacombs
amid these car bombings, 
and gun strapping martyrs
that blowup in my face 
and all reason in shatters..'
'Stop it! stop!' 
God moans, and he chatters
but a look in his face 
tells you it doesn't matter..

I ask, 'Lord, why can't you
 let good people live?
The fools we elected 
can you ever forgive?
We all watch in horror, 
and while your adored
the people in Dar fur 
are swept up by warlords..'

(God's reply)
"Did you create pyramids, 
were you Ramses slave,
do you think I look forward 
to another small grave?
Have you fought in wars 
when you didn't agree,
Who decides who wins 
when they all pray to me?
It takes a whole village 
to pull just one trigger
Womens wages are set by 
Walmart's sale sticker
your planet is warming, 
no snow packs for farming
bringing unwelcome guests 
like mosquito borne pests, 
greenhouse unrest, protecting 
your own, consuming the rest.
I have eyes, I see everything 
you never did, I have ears, 
I hear empty words, 
all things unsaid.. today's living, 
may be tomorrows dead.."

(these are really my words, not God's, who I fear
is considering a reprise of the flood this year..)
Form: Rhyme

-mechanical-

-Daily Poetry #16, February 13, 2017-
Word: Mechanical

I am a clock robot, having been made from scraps,
I walk with a clatter and sometimes a part snaps,
But my creator loves me dearly, so for them, I continue to walk,
And smile though it's rusty when I talk.
I am a clock robot, having been made with a purpose,
But even then, I am allowed to have a choice.
They love me though I am not alive, that's what matters,
Even through all the repairs and clumsy chatters.
I am a clock robot, the parts inside me continue to click,
And my creator makes sure I still tick. 
But I see it now, you're beginning to slow down when you walk,
And you cough when you use your voice to talk. 
I am a clock robot, everything inside of me still works today,
And they're all so surprised, no one knows what to say. 
My creator took me out, and people asked “How are you?” I smile and say,
In my skipping voice, “I am fine, oh so fine today!” 
I am a clock robot, and now I see what is in the future for you,
I can't cry for you, so I can only watch with nothing to do. 
You tell me not to worry, but that's out of the equation, 
Because I see now that there is truly no solution. 
I am a clock robot, a lonely old robot with nothing left,
And as I feel rain for the first time, I wait for whatever is next. 
Seeing that you'll never be with me again, I just want to cry,
To show that I am alive, for I can never die. 
I am a clock robot, one that wanders for a hundred years,
But always coming back to the same place to avoid all the stares.
Finally deciding how things must be,
I sit down with you next to me. 
I am a clock robot, the spring wind on my back like before,
And I can finally see you again some more. After a hundred years,
You smile and ask me “How are you?” I know what to say,
In my rusty voice, “I am fine, oh so fine today!”

Wilderness

The stern sun frowns and mocks
At the hide and seek of creatures sly
In the dunes of the wide  sandy stretch ;
One chases the other with survival shocks ,
While the wheeling winged vultures fly,
Viewing the supine, torn and scattered wretch
Being bitten or pecked in wild hunger,
With grunts and screeches to feel stronger .


The arid air greets the cacti hostile,
And the invisible , bleary blanket of heat
Envelopes, scorching and parching all through
The land of dying hope and dead smile ;
No shelter nor a hide anyhow to retreat ;
In light or in the dark , every meek move  
Finds anxious uncertainty haunt with disdain,
Leaving no choice : breathe or abstain .


An awful aroma and fragrance dense
Fills the woodland and the thicket thickset ;
Whispering leaves and the avian melody 
Back up the anxious roars,  and chatters intense ;
Any venture ends up in sigh and fret ;
Living is reduced to a receding parody ;
Might is right, and success a chance ,
And futile, pangs flow in resonance .


Round the lake is the overgrown greenery --
A meadow of reeds and creeper- brace
Looking over the peeping lilies that smile ;
The large remnant mirrors the cosmic scenery
To make up for the missing trace --
A little domain to live in , the while ;
The spell of croaks and chirps in tune
Enlivens it's own ethos with the croon.


The cruel and crafty hunters of prey,
Wait to pounce on creatures indolent ;
Often the seeker is sought unawares as victim ;
And the run goes on night and day,
With a blend of action and reaction silent ;
No order nor method prim : just so grim !
The realm with space and possession is null ,
The impulsive spirit of life goes dull..!
Form: Lyric

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