Long Cherries Poems
Long Cherries Poems. Below are the most popular long Cherries by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cherries poems by poem length and keyword.
Awaking from Stupor 1-16-24
It's not desire per say but the clinging
That stifles soul and stops heart from singing
Enlivening silence sets our souls free
Vibrant in the now, joyful and carefree.
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Awaking from Stupor
Winter haze beats upon the door,
Drunken dreams cling to bitter cherries of midnight,
Before night sashays into white flurries of dawn
When dull eyes wrestle out of binding yesterdays,
And pink-purple pussywillow hallucinations,
Provoked
Awakened to dream
Throwing off phantoms of eiderdown illusions,
Dawning redeemed from the clutch of midnight shrouds,
Nascent emerges sipping sweet soul sunrises
Coaxed from aromas of grace,
From holographic hollow mazes,
While pale sleepwalking staggers into real
Returning with a rosy heartbeat flush
To leave in shadows lethargy of ragged pastels
Numb shades to retreat like useless ghosts
And cower in new auroras of primed breathless light,
Neon insights flash electric incentive,
Sparks ignite fertile tinder stored in silence,
Sentient eyes step into the womb reserved
For every new second purified
In percolation of harmonic animas –
Conscious and unconscious
Awake emergent -
Bliss consummated!
Near the end of our walk the other day we were blessed to see
hundreds of robins enjoying breakfast in a cherry laurel tree.
In Florida this time of year the fruit of the Carolina Cherry Laurel
turns black and shiny and sweet….
sending a message to all the robins that…it is time to eat.
It’s no coincidence…or so from the cherry laurel we’ve been told…
that their fruit ripens at the same time the robins are in Florida
escaping the winter cold.
I imagine robins getting together before the winter snows they flee..
telling each other to have a safe trip…
and we’ll meet up down in Florida…at the cherry laurel tree.
And that is were we saw them yesterday…
jumping from branch to branch…chirping…as happy as can be…
sharing stories of their adventures while feasting on the fruit
of the cherry laurel tree.
As more robins flew into her branches…then more and more and more
the Carolina Cherry Laurel smiled at us saying,
“This is what I was created for.”
“For this is the way of nature.” She told us.
“We work together…all these robins and me…
They eat my fruit then fly off and spread my seeds
creating more cherry laurel trees.”
“And with more cherry laurel trees, “ she continued…”The circle is complete…
because then there are more cherries for more robins to come and eat.”
We stood there mesmerized…watching for a while…unable to say a word….
observing the symbiosis of nature at work…between fruit and tree and bird.
And, again, we thought how nature is trying to teach us…
the way our world is meant to be…
and we walked away hoping we could all be a little more…
like the robins and the cherry laurel tree.
Slamming the night like 90-proof drinks,
Stilettos click along broken star streets.
Spinning like wolverines in a badass heat.
Swallow the strobe lights-puke up the beat.
Time cracks when black knights blitz.
When suave turns into busted dream liars.
When cherries are on fire, and nobody gives two s.
Midnight blindsiding every angel-
everyone is riding a Mexican golden kite.
Dresses are smoking, every second running a little bit higher.
Concrete shacks turned into pulsing crystal ritz.
Everywhere pink potholes and slippery pricks.
Night winding down, henchmen move in.
Last call of their lives is etched on the wind.
Glitter backsliding into graffiti and grit.
All the good vibes slammed into bed.
Red bleeding into blue bleeding into half past dead.
The fun is at an end
Ninety proof black knights, chest to chest.
Spraying threats like 38 calibers led.
Youth floating down bottlecap alley ...quite dead.
There was a ring at the dungeon door
Canary raced across the floor
Pulling a hammy while nursing his soars
Appearing was a seagull that once was poor
“My friend the Canary
Spent the morning sailing over on the ferry
Sipping my AM sherry
Very relaxed not in a hurry
But many thoughts I do carry
You should not worry
Since I got a goal
Decided not to fold
So I tell my dear Canary
Things right now may seem scary
If you go down to the other league
You may be a champion I do decree
Honestly, I must get back to the beach
Hope you learned from what I teach”
Later in the day
Royals wanted to play
“Let’s chase the foxes around
How does that sound?”
But after the hunt took a brake
That both sides did take
Protecting their own field
Foxes knew the deal
By putting one up on them
Now he Royals really needed to defend
When another one hit the board
Royal’s weekend ride turned into a chore
Asking for extra time
Foxes replied, ‘not on my dime’
Sending one home not being declined
A group nicknamed the Red Devils
Needed comfort they were at a certain level
Invitations went out from Old Stafford
Heated pitch fork staff holding back the laughter
Mr. Bourne took the message in stride
Showed up and truly did try
With one that went in
Mr. Bourne’s mouth was smiling
This did not stop the satanic crew
Since they were not through
Cherries were lured into a fight
Victory the demons right
Frustrated and in trouble
Mr. Bourne returned to his bubble
Mouth now tied shut
Red Devils saying, “so what”
My confusion comes from too much doing. During the news
eating cheese and crackers, drinking wine, thinking the world
needs me.
Or the falling leaves, the days shorter but so much brighter.
How the cloud cover of the canopy has lifted to reveal
maybe God.
The longest continuous democracy may end in another theocracy.
A bunch of voodooists with their hocus pocus blessings
and understandings.
Bombs and poison. Grief. Chiseled, tearless face.
Chants gregorian. Her sad, clear, soulful missives from
the city.
Unbelievable acorn crop this year! Skate on them
like marbles. Last year was a maple year. The ash crop
significant, too.
But not the cherries. Or a single pear. Blackberries
held back too. Sure the towers were a violation, but they came to
hold community.
One stands not apart or alone but an individual within
his or her platoon. Committed to the mission and survival of
the platoon.
Fedex leaves a package. There is or is no anthrax
in it. It is our disappointment as Americans that the world cannot
be trusted.
Yes, New York is the enemy and brother of Kabul. How
does one reconcile those differing communities and be a non-
violent human?
With words. Wendell Berry's words. And service such as
the secretaries of state give, leaving when one's time and work
is done.
Staying in the diatonic. Agreeing first on rules of engagement.
Then engaging. Not stopping the fight or thought or song until the fight
is done.
Fresh baby berries blue, spread out in afternoon
On a fluffy smooth bed of cheesecake creamery
A surface filled with new red cherries mix
Clean peach slices cold and quite delicious
Fill in foundations on the side of delicate delights
A thin line of chocolate swirls above pure love
Deserts heaven is at the core of tasty pleasure
Too bad savages can't employ a fork
That would be too easy, normal and what for
Barbarians destroy the mood
Never learned to use a spoon
Filthy hands grab at the cake
Savages fill their faces full
Stuff it in with wild abandonment
Laughter remains with dirty plates
Manners and crumbs lay on the floor
*(This is an Epulaeryu poem with a twist)
As I walked the green path down Orchard Way,
To my great joy birds sang while on the wing,
As they ate plump carmine cherries buffet,
While the cerise sun itself was bleeding!
I joined their fun after plucking a bunch,
Enjoying sights and sounds of coming night.
The world of color ends with a still punch,
Splashing beauty with all its gentle might!
Joy in the orchard of the setting sun,
And blooms follow me all along the path,
Sharing their pure delight with anyone,
The whole world awash in a redness bath!
Hello moon which puts me under its spell,
And goodbye to the day I loved so well.
Painted pictures...of unicorns
And painted pictures...of bushes with thorns
Flowers grow...on my window sills
Roses, tulips...and daffodils
Garden rows...of buttercup
Flower pots...all filled up
Cherries red...in dark green leaves
Carnations sewn...on pocket sleeves
Cyclamen with white trim...pink
Painted on my...wood neck zinke
Soft flowing music...of violins
Smiling faces...creating grins
Writing poems...in my spare time
Writing lyrics...rhyme a rhyme
My hobbies that...I like to do
These lovely things...hold my heart true
Hobbies Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
2-12-2019
Deep purple passion, green garden glory, with a scent remarkably rich,
Like the haunting, full October moon, that hardly ever fails to bewitch!
Lilac lovely, violet and voluptuous, in gilt daytime, and evening's ease,
When soon cosmic skies are colored, like rubies, cardinals and cherries!
Admired like amethysts, or glistening grapes, or plump, plentiful plums,
Or like beauty marching down every lane, to a beating of festal drums!
Lilac like lavender, spreading redolent secrets, over scenic, sunlit miles,
Until sangria nights of fuchsia fervor, and fiery, shooting star projectiles.
Written on 6/1/2022
For: Purple Flowers Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron Flores
Hey kids, look around you;
what colors do you see?
There are way more than three;
I will point out a few.
I see a golden sun;
high in a sky of blue.
And white's an easy one;
when clouds come into view.
The grass is shades of green;
and sand is beige or brown.
Though water's clear when clean,
grey stones are all around.
A monarch butterfly
flaps orange and black wings.
There's a jade dragonfly;
and I see other things.
A yellow bumblebee;
upon a purple bud.
The tan twigs on a tree;
and cherries red as blood.
Your challenge for today;
count the colors you see.
Now, it's your turn to play;
can you spot more than me?