Long Cleaved Poems
Long Cleaved Poems. Below are the most popular long Cleaved by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cleaved poems by poem length and keyword.
A strong hand reached out to behold a soft smooth slender hand. "Do I touch, do I press or do I tap?" It pondered. The soft hand only anticipated the thrill.
The strong hand reached out to take the soft hand, to tap it, or poke it, or maybe rub against it. The soft hand kept still as warm blood filled the veins of its palm, pondering the thickness of the strong hand.
The strong hand desired to maybe brush over the soft hand or even caress it but wondered whether that would be kind, cruel or cunning to the soft hand. The soft hand panted and craved for the touch it could not initiate.
The Strong hand reached out to tickle or fiddle the soft hand but discerned the soft hand yearned for more filling than emptying. The soft hand sighed with its index finger.
The strong hand gently opened its palm wide and outstretched, its fingers preparing to lock into the clasp of the soft hand with a grasp. The soft hand pinched its fingers before softly reaching out with a surrendering open palm to be clutched, clenched and gripped by the thickness of the Strong hand.
The strong hand landed in the unusual softness of kind finger prints ready to carry and bear this soft hand all through. The soft hand rested in the thickness of big fingers of the strong hand and cleaved to the power thereof.
A hand shake happened!
There was once two twins
One gifted with the power of creation
One gifted with the power of strength
They cherished each other
Helping the other through harsh times
Until the strong twin desired for more strength
Although it was for good reason, the creator twin wanted the other to stay with her
But the strong twin was stubborn
This disagreement cleaved the two apart
Weaving hate and resentment between them
Each going their separate yet close paths
Until one day
They were reunited by their Maker
Though for malignant reasons
The creator and the strengthened, both cut down by their Maker
As the light faded from their eyes
The creator used the last of her energy
To make a weapon for the strengthened
With the balance of their souls shifting, the strengthened became the supernatural
With strength of mountains and agility like the wind
The grieving twin sought revenge on her Maker
Before the Maker could even comprehend, he was cut down
Just as he cut down the two twins
Spindly stretching brambles rebel from main form
Amused bending stems eject spikes of rhino horn
Thorns barely a repellent for birds resourceful
Tweezer glowing twilight globe, a bitter morsel
Fresh field alien green cone births berry's infant
Chantilly lace pale pink petticoat wraps nymphet
Confetti celebratory moult bulges her fertility
Eighty protruding bulbs shiver in vulnerability
Stern season carousel chastens scanty branches
Snow swallow, boggy terrain new tepid attaches
Saw edge foliage unfold, twitching fox ears
Clusters encombour limbs, absinthe adheres
Florid flocks tossle, augment midnight family babble
Morning dew melt sapor stains fingers which dabble
Outcast tongue teaser, lumpy rubber cleaved
Mauve motivate jaunty juice, mouth received
9th August 2022
Written for Contest:
Thoughts on Blackberries
Sponsor:
Matt Caliri
Created are we into the image of God
from the dust of the earth, we are made
God has FORMED us for His honour
out of His greatness, this image was laid
But then a major problem was found
this image was now DEFORMED by sin
when Adam sinned all mankind fell
separated from God eternally never counted in
But God had an awesome master plan
His son Jesus would come and die
on Calvary's cross as the perfect substitute
three days later rise to life no longer to lie
Then, God, the holy spirit came down
as Jesus the son went heaven-bound
this spirit TRANSFORMED many a heart
to display God's spirit in them be found
So God's spirit would bring a life of change
producing Jesus in all that truly believed
CONFORMED one day to the Lord Jesus
when they see Him so eternally they cleaved
(The believer's history so formed:
1) Formed in God's image
2) Deformed from God's image by sin
3) Transformed into God's image by the spirit
4) Conformed one day to the Lord Jesus Christ when we see him.)
Down the stairs turned chiseled rocky steps
the bare beauty cascades like an ebullient rapid
raw grace of Eve glistens on the satin skin
tinged with the hues of primeval nature exposed
sculpted in curvy contours of Michelangelo finesse
and charisma.
Amorous luster flowing in the cleaved vale
carved between the ambrosial mounds
opens up on the vista of the ivory meadow
supple rhythm of scented jasmine allure
wafts on the canopy of the yonder thicket
and waits.
The porcelain ballerina feet as insipid as
the stark sorrow of the defoliated winter tree
half-way on the staircase stuck motionless
a statue draped in symphony of au naturel shape
moonbeam lattice covers her with silver screen
and enigma.
October 11, 2019
A Brian Strand 1097 Contest
In the mist of the journey’s penultimate mile
at the edge of the fading pasture of future obscure
in the twilight hour the sunset swansong resonates
for the forlorn tree of the being silhouetted still
against the blazing skyline of transient brilliance
witnessing the last flicker of the dying day.
Twirling threads of turmoil entwined seamless
with the cleaved clouds of the swarming storm
ravage the unwary horizon halcyon once
mimicking the chameleon transformation
on the convoluted canvas burning the last corner
from the surreal chromatic flare the ashes fly away.
The shards of the splintered sky in the swirling gale
roll on the dismal waves of the curled up clouds
the remnant rays of sanguinity surviving still
in the departing flashes of the sinking sun
fabricate the latent lattice of unframed dream
in the petrified life’s kaleidoscopic snapshot.
February 22, 2021
For Brian Strand Contest A Brian Strand July 2
An old lady sat in her rocking chair
Her face etched with lines but still very fair
Her eyes bear a twinkle and seem to say
I know all of life’s secrets for I have passed that way
She clings to her rosary beads murmuring her prayers
Her wedding ring though dulled with time, she still wears
Tears brim her eyes and she looks away
For loved one gone before her and sons gone astray
She looks out of the window as if waiting for some ones return
Gives out a sigh as her coffee cup she slowy churns
How many more summers and winters she thought would go by
As she watched the falling autumn leaves dry
I saw her gently go off to sleep, her rosary beads in her hand cleaved
The rocking chair rocking alone in the breeze
The old lady was no more…..
If I weren’t afraid I’d have embarked once again
on the journey I had since long abandoned in chagrin,
on life’s pathway crowded by hostile strangers,
and held their hands, walked the empathy together.
On my uphill climb of the formidable mountain face,
summit of success lying beyond slithery failure called cliff,
I’d have reached at the end of effort if I weren’t scared stiff,
and if I had relied upon the dormant strength of self belief.
The gale of dark night carried to me your enticing call
from across the swollen river in surging spate of turmoil.
I’d have sailed to your eroded bank with loads of dream,
if my latent love could build a boat of courage for me.
As our paths cleaved at the edge of the trying times,
when I departed at sunset you were in debris of broken heart.
I’d have returned from the nascent horizon of sunrise colors,
if I weren’t afraid to slip and sink in your tears.
Written : September 13, 2019
February 12, 2020
Contest : Strand Select M, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Diplomacy can be a fig leaf for surrender
A wolf agrees to postpone the dismember
If you want peace, prepare for war
Peacetime is what aggressors use it for.
Countries have interests, leaders have ambitions
For some expansion is a holy mission.
Cost and benefits, incentives and deterrents
Under peaceful oceans can be riptide currents.
The Sioux were promised sacred ground,
But promises became vapor when gold was found
The ink had faded, land was cleaved,
Were they fools when they believed?
Chamberlain’s last words were “if only Hitler hadn’t lied”
But Hitler did, and millions died
Dictators arm, they probe, they strike when strong
When goals conflict with oaths, words don’t last long.
The U.S. and North Vietnam signed the Paris accord
but no strength to back it, we dropped the sword.
Our resentful congress cut off army aid
The North swept into the vacuum congress made
Israel and Hezbollah signed a document
The Jihadis would stay far, but close they went
they dug tunnels under the Galilee
Jews left when they knew no safety guarantee.
North Korea vowed it would refrain
From forging bombs yet forged again.
They brandished missiles, filled their store:
Their final ace was nuclear war.
Russia and the U.S. and U.K. did assure
Just give Russia your nukes, their motives are pure
a treaty sold to Ukraine as preventing invasion
Then missiles hit cities and warfare is raging.
Like snow in the sun, words transpire
Melt away when the stakes grow dire.
A promise, a pact, a solemn vow—
Not many stand unbroken now.
SUNRISE
Sunrise, hasten
Your feet to come
For in you the blossom
Of my heart berths
Dusk, the mirth of my heart
Has cocooned, and in frigid
Warmth for sunrise it yearns
For my sunshine to bring.
Sunrise come for my
Sunshine to come.
Sunrise come, come
Quickly I implore
For in grub for the warmth
Of my sunshine through
The thickest of all nights
My heart gropes.
Sunrise come for my
Sunshine to come.
Sunrise come swiftly
For my sunshine to herald.
The obsequies of my loneliness
I beg you to come sound.
Sunrise come and let my
Sunshine emerge to suture
My solitude cleaved heart.
Come sunrise and let my
Sunshine come, enshrine
And kindle my heart
For, like an ember my
Heart now is.
Sunrise come for my
Sunshine to come.
Sunrise come
And let my sunshine come
For dusk phlegmatically on
The frigid, thorny path of
Loneliness on a harrowing
Voyage, my heart it has taken
Sunrise come for my
Sunshine to come.
Sunrise hearken
To the call of my somber heart.
For like when to dawn the
Crow of a cock calls, to you
My heart calls.
Sunrise come for my
Sunshine to come.
For when sunrise comes,
My sunshine’s fragrant
Rays like a myrrh through
The key hole of the door of my
Doleful heart in would filter.
The door of my heart will I
Open and in deluge of my
Sunshine’s mystique will I bask
And from the serfdom of solitariness
Free will I become.
Sunrise come for my
Sunshine to come.
Though, when sunrise comes,
Soon the sun on my sunshine
Would again set and in a swift
Gone and dusk my sunshine
Would supplant.
But while it tarries it’s
Sumptuous presence will I relish.
Sunrise come for my
Sunshine to come.