Long Choka Poems
Long Choka Poems. Below are the most popular long Choka by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Choka poems by poem length and keyword.
Like a giant clock,
each of our lives is ticking,
ticking, and ticking away -
from the first hour that
we set foot on the road to
our final destination.
Our life’s morning is
beloved childhood and youth.
We can’t know what lies beyond
our road’s horizon
as we make our way into
the afternoon of our life.
Like a vast desert
lies the future far ahead
Alas! A few already
in the morning’s sun
have perished, as will others
before the late afternoon.
Many reach their end
as sun dips behind mountains.
Twilight years can be glowing
or they can be dark.
Even those who see midnight
find life’s journey goes quickly.
July 14, 2019
For Joseph May's Fives And Sevens Poetry Contest
(based on picture number 4)
Checked by Howmanysyllables.com
Submitted Sept. 11, 2021 for the ''J'' Contest, New Or Old Poetry Contest
of Constance La France
. What a fool I am
Clinging to a broken dream
That can never be the same
Coming all this way
Thinking I could change your mind
Oh! so true that love is blind
Sitting here alone
Starring at an empty chair
That throws the truth in my face
It hurts! To love you
So I’ll board the morning train
And forget you once again.
~~~~~~~~
Written: October 9th, 2009
For: Brian Strand’s Imagine Contest
Inspired by: Edward Hopper’s Painting: ‘AUTOMAT’.
1st Place
HOLDER OF THE HEAVENS
religion of love —
the Holder of the Heavens
spurs unity and purpose
the longhouse people
strong belief in afterlife
honored Spirit…lived good life
forever friendships
less crime ~ police force null
embraced Christianity
with brotherly care
the Iroquois weave gardens
enforced with no social caste
prayer and praise to God —
tobacco like incense lifts
with thankfulness...wampum tribe
11/26/2018
Line Gauthier’s Tribute to Native Culture Poetry Contest
References:
prezi.com
http://www.departments.bucknell.edu/environmental_center/sunbury/website/HistoryofIroquoisIndians.shtml
https://iroquoisgroup24.weebly.com/religious-beliefs-and-ceremonies.html
she has not yet cut
dead flowers from her garden
though winter solstice is two
days past and stormy
clouds promise soon coming snow
with its blanket of virgin
white to purify
autumn’s death and the decay
slumbering amongst
the roots and debris
of life lived long in summer
short days of winter
begin to lengthen
into promises of spring
too many seasons passing
into memories
too many seasons passing
as a dream within a dream*
the winter solstice
is two days past with dark clouds
on the horizon
saying time is short~
she is in the garden now
tombstones mark the place.
*Edgar Allen Poe, 1850
Man laying in grass
Wearing the skins of wild beasts
With acorns in hand
A spear of stone next to him
He laughed to himself
His children safe in a grove
With his eyes open
He gazed at gems in the sky
On huge rings unseen
And wonder sung her sweet song
He then saw the gems
Their shape, size and arrangement
He saw animals
And men dancing without cease
“Who gave birth to you?”
He saw the silver mirror
Shining in the void
And saw his face motionless
“Who even are you?”
As he was dazzled by them
A gold disc arose
Disposing of the darkness
The man then with sight
Saw himself with his body
“Who am I in truth?”
He cried for the pearl within
That came from above
Above gold, silver and gems
So he talked with friends
And curious family
To share this found fruit
Sharing it from age to age
Father to daughter
And mother to starving sons
With this meal of fruit
Angels grew out of their mouths
Who gave seeds of truth
Most said all came by grand thoughts
Some said by just chance
Few said that all came from love
Two in ten thousand
Said all came from a mistake
Through these many thoughts
All yearned for the very first
They cried through their eyes
For something beyond their sight
To escape darkness
Though darkness caused their wonder
Out of this darkness
Came the study of wisdom
Two lovers came forth
Both the scholar of wisdom
And painter of words
Were dazzled with bright wonder
Through wonder and peace
The scholar thought through wisdom
Talking through to her
To hold her beneath the stars
The painter instead
Made his art with this wonder
To paint his dear love
They pursued their precious love
For wisdom herself
Not to be hailed as the stars
Nor for shining wealth
Nor even to keep breathing
Few like the poet
And thinker Bardesanes
Saw wisdom herself
And much like wisdom herself
Due to lost wonder
They yearned to see the beyond
Beyond every star
But as wisdom fell from light
And came to darkness
Because of her blind wonder
The men with wonder
Strove to dispose of darkness
And return to light
Where the garden shines above
Above gems and gold
Where the first family laughs
In groves and meadows
Where Christ, the white lamb, frolics
In the grass with the first man
Caught between two storms
Payne's Gray painted hurricane
A tempest that churns ... inward
A girl waits, you see ...
Hopes dangling on a new heart
The perfect match thrums my chest
I have filled life's cup ...
Sipped of the sweet and bitter
Stained welcomes with its nectar
Worked until weary ...
Loved to depths and with passion
Swum up souls like rivers, sweet
Regrets? Yes ... and dreams
But if 'twere mine once again
I would surely live the same
Still, I'm in no rush ...
I've gazed the reaper's dim eyes
Felt his keen breath on my neck
I don't welcome him ...
But there's a new life, precious
A little cherub, dying ...
Let this storm take me
One last swim in the cold brine
One last gift ... for an angel.
~ 4th Place ~ in the "Fives And Sevens" Poetry Contest, Joseph May, Judge & Sponsor.
(Syllables = 5, 7, 7, 5, 7, 7 ... counted at HowManySyllables.com)
Here starts Christ’s journey
Jesus enveloped in burning sand
Starving and alone
A snake slithered to Jesus
Yaldabaoth whispered
“Loved flower of the father
If you’re truly that
Tell the stone to become bread”
But Jesus proclaimed
“According to your very law
In your very words
Man shall not eat bread alone”
Saklas showed the world
His painting for Christ to see
Saklas asserted
“Treasured light from the bright sun
If you’re truly that
Accept these splendid kingdoms
These are my making
These are my authority
Bow down to my tail
Worship my lion’s face
And these you will have
For there is no god but me”
But Jesus replied
“Worship and serve God only”
To mock the craftsman
By reciting his own verse
To worship one above him
Remembering God above
Samael just snarled
Brought Jesus to the temple
On the pinnacle
Above Satan’s creation
Samael shouted
“Precious water from the lake
If you’re truly that
Fall like wisdom fell
For you will be saved
For my angels shall catch you
For it’s in my psalm”
But Christ’s closing reply was
“Your prophet Moses
Said Do not test the lord your god
So by your own law
I shall not quiver and trip
So wisdom may rise”
The lion headed serpent
Who could not reply
Slithered away on his earth
Jesus left the burning sands
Upon poised to strike unsuspecting prey
oft times myself she doth cannibal eyes
everything her sight coalescing, whereby her
occipital orbs gleam fiery poker hot embers
ferocious roars of ear splitting hunger pangs
deafen wolf, and/or any other unlucky fauna
paralyzed with dreadfully locked fear petrified
helplessly frozen as unsung hero(ine) twists
and shouts out for Godzilla (lame rival) to
rescue potential bite size hors d'oeuvre
buzzfeeding bottomless pit always housing
an appetite for consumption ready to eat a
horse so be calf full if daring to spring syrup
rise visit here, thee veritable wasteland, who
never knows beastial fierce savagery lashes
out to buildon kitchen midden reminiscent of yore
or Mayan garden variety primitive culture steeped
in human/animal sacrifices, the above iterated
summary approximating quotidian battle to escape
by skin of teeth (er dentures) this hubby dodging
hither and yon (considerably lame version, sans
all around mulberry bush...), thus right now
temporarily holed up within a rock and hard
place, since wife snoozing away before she doth
wrest remains of day lumbering to satiate her never
ending capacity to sock away (more like vacuum
up) every creature great and small, whereby she
swells up easily mistaken for lead zeppelin (many
a previous halloween with little effort donning
herself Das Hindenburg erupting flames for added
the verge of blossoms,
a spumoni serenade ~
faerie dreamboats by the lake.
the daylight fusion of hues
dallying with love ~
mirror fancy
~ introvert & extrovert ~
her wings wrapped ‘round a rosebud.
his heartstrings skim lake’s surface.
Monet’s berry-vanilla...
...silver dollars swim about.
bright butterflies in stomach…
their tiny eyes magnetized.
~ the north and south pole ~
a love at first flight ~
his wings shy, hers so pretty.
she gently draws him
from his water cave.
he sketches lines on her palm ~
a silent poem.
~ dew drops on lips so winsome ~
12/28/2020
Working late at night,
The seer gazes into time:
Through a water bowl.
In private study,
He trembles in his robe as-
Foresight...fills the room.
Through late night vigils;
Divine splendor set to page:
He foretells of time.
Fanciful visions,
In the countless prophecies;
Bizarre imagery.
One-thousand quatrains,
Layered with lurid details:
Keenly...camouflaged.
Bold...obscure verses,
Flow with brave trepidation:
From a ceaseless quill.
With his astrolabe,
His poetic prophecies-
Speak of disaster.
Visions of dear days,
Recorded on parchment by-
The hand of a sage.