Long Cloven Poems
Long Cloven Poems. Below are the most popular long Cloven by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cloven poems by poem length and keyword.
From toothed alps to McKenzie High Country
to hardwood alpine forest and fernland,
there rises the jewel Aoraki
out of the jagged ice age peaks so grand.
And polar winds at its rock face below
chill Lake Te Anau’s willow and bluegum,
where the frozen wild lowland tussocks grow
and rainbow river trout and salmon run.
Behold plains and valleys when spring has shone,
hear the cloven hooves scatter asunder,
climb Arthur’s Pass to Milford Track and yon
to glacier and fiord and rolling tundra.
Stretched from Cloudy Bay to Bluff on the sea
thunders the sky father, Ranginui.
Written: April 1996
Addends, minuend, subtrahends... all Greek
to poor student long haired pencil necked freak.
Damned (internal) revenue stream
plus plugged egress
equals flood of woe
torturous suffocation
of biosphere quite slow
particularly concerning one
Norwegian bachelor farmer from Oslo
amidst the bajillions of people,
one common Joe
(cur) just biden his time
pleading to acquire
much needed dough,
attorney General assistant Lynne Costello
sought out to help yours truly
(to no avail)
hoof hound himself cloven
and rent asunder courtesy
ofttimes mentioned cyber outlaws
preying upon (long in the tooth) fellow
suddenly his entire body electric
being deceived synonymous
with the plot of Iago
in my version starring
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
as none other than Othello
punch drunk as Judy
falling down laughing,
roistering, yammering hysterically
and rolling with a stoned Rockafellow,
whose role as a convincing fall guy
convincingly contradicted himself
as an above board underfellow.
Yours truly voluntarily recruited himself,
cuz he haint been rather astute
therefore welcomes
a swift kick in the derrière
courtesy squared off steel tipped boot
knocking the living daylights
predicated on lovely bonehead moment
linkedin to poppycock that did compute
as sense and sensibility
even suspicious to a deaf-mute
leary toward one extortionist
pièce de résistance, he did execute
and pulled wool over my eyes
analogous to snake charmer
playing magic (Johnson) flute
transfixing yours truly
a dunderhead lunkhead punked galoot
who in hindset could not add up
fishy (worm I going)
oh yeah... virtually nabbed
courtesy cyber bandits,
who gane nary a hoot
prying skewed logistics I impute
to wanna hang myself
courtesy suitable length of jute
tied with Gordian knute
gofundme page welcomes pledging loot
to help me (if you can)
with desired great expectation moot,
hence these lovely bones
when cremated will be transformed
into fine powder
more inert than a newt.
Who would have ever thought
All of living could come to this
Mourning over what was
A perpetual state of exclusionary bliss
Pop! Went the weasel, as she moved,
Toward the only difference to give her voice
While he skipped along behind
As the man who yielded to woman's choice
Out from original creation, she came
He, never quite...the same
Throughout HIStory, memory of time
Has scratched on the dotted line
Lie after lie, causing man to believe
Nothing of the original creation
Learning passed new and tantalizing sensation
To bring humanity to retrieve
............................RESTORATION
She was brought to humanity
On cloven tongues, fifty days from ascension
To comfort and teach, maybe even reach
The part of the mind that desire's retention
One span of time was devoted to feeling
The second, the age of reason arrived
When Wisdom looked upon her children
She sighed with relief that TRUTH had survived
.......................treason
In the bed, yes, always in the bed
The majority are fighting off attacks of fear
Some sleep in comfort, with memory
Replaying all the dreams of previous years
Still, there is a remnant.....engaged in battle
Riding to war without a comfortable saddle
.................Mercy riding on Wings of LOVE
It's that line, that ALWAYS leaves void, in the mind
And that incessant need pulling back on the DIVINE
.......................for Pity's Sake............let me at least......................REMEMBER
Written by Trudy Schrader on 05/29/2020
A butterflied eye
blinking stars do shine
on every beating wing
as birds softly sing
to silver maned unicorns dancing in a ring
of dragons snapping webs of woven silk
In a swirl of clouds made of milk
a towering blue filled sky
high diving wheels do fly
on a hundred tuxedoed marching bears
humming out sweet honeyed airs
a hammering anvil octopus with tentacles uproarious
playing a melancholy song
on harps long gone
to sea depths of whales
clicking tongues with their tails
while dolphins do a trick to a metronomic tick.
Purple waves a thousand string bows
as I pull out a petrol coloured rose
from everybody's nose
children burst out a laughing bubble
on a policeman turning into a clown
frozen stiff with a frown
a bassoon the size of an elephant bellowing out such eloquence
with oboes and clarinets that slither and snake their way
blowing bugles into bubblets parping out little trumpelets
and saxophones rippling out dancing skeletones
that shatter cymbals and kettle drums into smithereens
blue tongued lizards fingering their zithers
And last but not least a thousand nimble mice who play piccolos on ice
The performance now takes on a darker tone. Is that a flash of lightning?
Do ominous clouds roll in across the sky?
A belated troop of grinning baboons
Sawing double basses
gnashing teeth and pulling faces
As I wave my wand to whistle forth a dark cloaked demon
from an infernal region
to hit grand piano keys bringing the crowd to their knees
blackened sulphuric fingers spread
Inspiring some unholy dread
as cloven hoof beasts clamour
and witches dance enamoured by yer fiery guest
who draws out hell at yer own behest
Purple Cat rings a bell and the whole artifice fell.
straw strewned
to be eaten by as
s as well as sheep
but the chambermaid
at the manger made
a broom for which to
sweep and so
did she as it came
to pass that all that
bustle went but didn't last
subsiding as the magi
returned back from
whence they came so
they came and went
following no star to
take them home
as alone each
did ponder
but never wondered
after their wander
but Balthazar did
a bit for what
would a kid
do with
more myrrh
then he could
burn in a lifetime
but preferred not
to think about
it too much
so such
thoughts
we're forgotten
and lo the begotten
son not shone but
showed the doll
he was given in
the stall so simply
woven from left
over non eaten
by cloven feet
beasts that
that token
would take
him to the
knowing
of that
which
exists
but
has
been
left
in the
choosen
Form:
SPRING-HEELED JACK
Spring-Heeled Jack was a very odd chap,
And a very odd chap was he.
His eyes glowed like a pyre,
He wore batman’s attire.
He was frightful not least
Because from the mouth of this beast
Spewed forth a tongue of blue fire.
Spring-Heeled Jack had a very strange knack,
And a very strange knack had he.
By way of a spoof
He jumped roof to roof,
And a ten-foot wall
Presented no trouble at all
To this Jack of the cloven hoof.
Spring-heeled Jack had a very tough mac,
And a very tough mac had he.
The soldiers might fire
But unscathed he’d retire.
He sure was no pullet,
Distaining each bullet,
And mocking the military’s ire.
Spring-Heeled Jack had a very sad lack,
And a very sad lack had he.
With a talent like his
He could have been king of show biz
And regarding high jumps
Jack would have been trumps.
What a deplorable waste of his whizz!
Spring-Heeled Jack had a very long whack,
And a very long whack had he.
Despite many a try
No catcher came nigh,
So through Victoria’s long age
It was Jack who held stage.
Though now, it appears, he’s more shy.
Oh! Sleep come claim me for thine own
My mind it wanders far and deep
To distant lands and shores unknown
Far beyond this castle keep
To fight for God on land and tide
To make the heathen understand
My kindred brethren at my side
A christian vow a sword in hand
Their foreign tongues and ritual chants
Oh! Lord they know not what they do
Forgive them Lord their ignorance
Their demi-gods they falsely woo
God grant me strength to bare the proof
From those that practice to deceive
Sins of the flesh and cloven hoof
Oh! What a tangled web they weave
'Tis only death and death alone
Will cleanse the soul and purge the mind
As rabid dogs tear flesh from bone
The will of God his axe they grind
The Devils work must ne'er be done
Cross not our path nor bar our way
The Lord our God thy will be done
The Judas tree will rock and sway
No equal nowhere on this earth
Cruel deeds to shame Marquis De Sade
Whilst crimson tides iinfuse the dirt
Our just and holy Lords crusade
For Hell i've seen and made my own
Grant me my Lord my endless sleep
What devils deeds and seeds we've sown
In Christs own name how he must weep
In shadows deep, where darkness weaves its thread,
Sin's whispered lure, a path where mortals tread.
Temptation's fruit, a taste of what's denied,
It's here that Satan's cunning plans reside.
With cloven hooves and fiery eyes ablaze,
The fallen one, in wicked ways, conveys,
Deception's art, the master of the lie,
As Sin and Satan dance beneath the sky.
But Death, a specter cold, an endless night,
It waits for souls, extinguishing the light.
A consequence of choices, paths we choose,
In the cycle, Sin and Death, they're bound to fuse.
For Sin, the spark that sets temptation's fire,
Leads mortals down a treacherous desire.
In Satan's web, they find themselves entwined,
As Death awaits, its victory defined.
Yet in this tale of darkness, do not despair,
For hope can rise, dispelling all despair.
Redemption's light can break Sin's binding chain,
And from this trio's grasp, one can attain.
In life's grand tapestry of joy and strife,
We find the strength to face this endless strife.
For Sin, Satan, Death, they may persist,
But love and faith, in our hearts, exist.
I am as a hammer.' Weilded by God.' Upon the rockface of
False piety.' O're which human blood pours; in great floods.' In power i
Assail it.' With blows of great might.' I am come for this
Epoch..' at this deepest midnight' I assault in this darkness every, twenty four hours.' The smoke from each
Impact echoes' deafening many with raw power.' A stench
Of acridity emmanates and surrounds.' There are shreiks
From the demons.' As they loose un-holy grounds.' I feel the
Tremor of volcanos.' As all humanity.' Starts to see! into; and through the confusion.' That has stood, ages overwhelmingly.'
The bitter taste of demise.'in my stomach now deeply lies'
Yet His words taste 'as sweetest honey' as I aim.! The summit in my eyes' The
Seat of all evil and calumny.' The end draws now apace .' God is readying His
Troops.. soon He will remove; every trace.' Every track
Of inquitys cloven hoof placed.' Every sacrifice to baal; and hate.' By the Word of His
Power we are all destined to our fate.' Lo' He raises an army.! to
Clear away the dark groves mates.' This very hour.! He is active' and all sin will be thrown
Down' when He Himself ( in all His Heavens fully shows) with true! Power echoing around!)
(As Galileo left the session of the Inquisition
at which he had been forced to deny his own
discovery that the earth orbited the sun, and
had to "admit" that the earth was static, he
murmured, "eppur si muove" ("but it moves").
It's hard to live in Lilliput, I find.
I have to cross my fingers, play their game.
Their billing, filling, drilling daily grind
sits ill with me. They all trot out the same
tired cliches. Passing a painting, never fail
to comment on the squareness of the frame.
Unprofitable, weary, flat and stale.
You can't earn prizes here. These fools prize earning.
No sweets to eat. It's one long dreary tale
of condemnation, disapproval, spurning.
The Sunday supplements determine taste,
all tearing down, forbidding, banning, burning.
They're sealed in heavy metal, concrete-cased
austerity. They put the "die" in "diet".
What will survive of them is nuclear waste.
Denounce, detract, dismiss it and deny it.
Don't look for clover - look for cloven hooves.
Excoriate it, flay it, vilify it.
They'd love to let life lurch along in grooves,
the gauche, perverse, unruly human mind
trapped tidily in aspic. But it moves.