Long Clutch Poems
Long Clutch Poems. Below are the most popular long Clutch by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clutch poems by poem length and keyword.
Quote "Over the years we have soared hand in hand" by poet
We clutch many years of married life many times it was hard to hold on many times good but many times bad and sad
Weaving our lives just like the vines outside our window all holding on until the end never quitting never giving up
I clasp my words I do not want to inhale the anger I only want to grasp the love
The red hued roses from our day just a dream these many years later the color still make me gasp from their beauty
Now much older we can soar we can glide through the final years the final years in peace and love
Date Written: 6/29/2021 Note: July 4 is our anniversary
4 Place
Poetry Contest Deadline
Sponsored by: Constance La France
On entering the afterlife, to be met by my father.
(Hopefully a long way off)
> Hello Dad, it has been many a year
You're looking well, since I looked at you last
Good job, you won't believe how much I'm scarred,
can't say the past few years have not been hard.
The burdens that I was prepared to take,
the sacrifices I have had to make.
I shan't deny you had it really rough,
but from my point of view it was quite tough,
child number three within your clutch of four
way down the pecking order, that's for sure.
Your last son was priority number one............
Such love you speak of never manifest
I felt alone, adrift, unlike the rest.
A fishing trip together, when I was small
the only day we had I can recall.
< I worked, but it took my good health at length
an industry that sapped my breath and strength
by fifty, there was no more I could do
the body of a man aged ninety-two.
If like some of your friends, you'd had it all
been mollycoddled , pampered, treated, spoiled
by adulthood it would have been too late
for you to come and step up to the plate.
The inner strength you have to go so far
is from your past, defining who you are.
I'm proud you somehow managed to get by,
now, come here, son- and let me dry your eye.
For contest 'A conversation', sponsor Frank Herrera
31st August 2016
Life flows in the self-made furrow
You make from the known for tomorrow
The journey you dither to take beyond familiarity
For knowledge is a sense of security.
The challenges build daunting barrier
You strive boldly, but can't cross over
You may try to change the track to win
The venture you don’t risk for the unseen.
Some known roads will collapse for sure
You can no longer travel secure
In the unknown outside your domain
Things remote, out of sight they remain.
If you build your own road and are proud
It would soon be full of nameless crowd
Strangers would scramble and stay on
An act of intrusion you would reckon.
The mind coded to endure what you own
For the aliens, it gets signal unsafe and unknown
It closes in the clutch of confined fear in harness
You are scared of the unfamiliar otherness.
_____________
March 31, 2023
For A Brian Strand Premiere No 1205 Contest
The trouble with touch
Is wanting too much
Finger tips tingling
Trite hearts signaling
Your space in-between
Where feelings are seen
If taken one day
You lose your own way
The rush of desire
An embrace on fire
Sparks of connection
Human convection
As all isolate
Some suffer cruel fate
More virus distress
Of touchless duress
Sharing a fresh start
By staying apart
Resisting to touch
Now saves lives as such
Distancing does work
Recovery shall perk
Resources will align
When all forces combine
The best way to touch
Comes through in the clutch
All's said and done
Our world can be one
I awaken after said storm thrown weakened am I
In awe in wonderment as to where I espy
Fervent to silent as I witness this breathing space
As I slowly rise my tall in this seeing succulent heaven place
Barren beaches of gold amidst greened hue
Hearing cresting of thundering waves crashing true
As I start to look around in hungering thirsting cry
It's the time to ask myself as to where am I, sigh!
To a palm leafy avenue I take to a rest
As I contemplate such wonder in tiring drained zest
I awaken to my belongings and to my belongings saved
For what I had on this journey, caught waves now waved
Thinking thoughts caught, then cast like the waves brought
So many like the drifting bringing waves, leave me naught
Contemplation runs wild as to where my wanting's declare
Recalling looking around, was it purely saved heaven stare
I know it's time to address the needing's if I'm to be found
With unknown known bravado in my mind has to be sound
As I look around me seeing what simply surrounds be
My time is to be taken to the accommodation of me, thee
Having searched seeked determined and decided such
In amazement abound, it's all in bountiful clutch
Coconut and their palms grace me shelter and food
Berries I dare to taste, feeding me fishing I should
Fresh water apart the nuts in rainy filled capture
I'm feeling Crusoe, of reading book stature
Sleeping I do soundly to the caressing waved shores
Whilst burning embers deter these petulant scores
Creatures of difference with no accountable stockabilty
Deem to me useless, with no accountability
It's the plantation that offers survivable quantities
That feed fuel my wanting's reaching inevitability
As days turn to weeks I'm in possible addressed talk
Not knowing the many creatures, in shyness I baulk
As weeks turn to months, and months into years
My name is Robinson, soon I'll share these tears for fears.
You gave my heart and soul a lift;
a secret angel sent a gift.
Who is this fine, kind poet friend,
to me, paid membership extend?
To Premium was made the shift;
You gave my heart and soul a lift.
Now as a poet I can grow;
use audio, let pictures show.
I wish to thank you...him or her,
to know your name, I would prefer.
You gave my heart and soul a lift.
in this great 'soup' I'll swim and drift.
Oh, thank you, angel, very much!
Your heartfelt gift, I now will clutch;
thru rhythmic words and meters sift.
You gave my heart and soul a lift.
Sandra M. Haight
~5th Place~
Premiere Contest: Anonymous Angels
Sponsor: Yazmin Malik
Judged: 05/07/2018
My poem is fictional because I never received an anonymous gift from a
person. So I wrote how I would feel if I had received an anonymous Poetry Soup Premium Membership as a gift.
Comforter indwells within us
He's the Holy Spirit
Convicting us of sins and thus
Of each dark demerit
When we disobey God
With untruth we are shod
Need to confess we're flawed
Hark the warning bells
Comforter indwells
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Comforter indwells believers
Do not quench His soft voice
Be not misled by deceivers
There is always a choice
Forsake dark desires' clutch
Give heed to God's soft touch
Confess, repent as such
Overcome sin spells
Comforter indwells
Form: Double Quietus
19th April 2022
And Samuel said, Hath the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams. - 1 Samuel 22:15
And when He (the Comforter/ Holy Spirit) is come, He will reprove (convict) the world of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment. - John 16:8
He that covereth his sins shall not prosper: but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy. - Proverbs 28:13
For Unseeking Seeker's "Soul Betrayal" Contest
There's a parade
just outside my window.
Storm rains ended cues
sky steeped in steely blues,
a screech of a dozen blue jays
young with their families play
a clutch of short, fat, thin and tall
shouting out in their own rhapsody calls.
Lower on the ground
edging in and out hunger bound,
a challenge of gray squirrels
and a toss about tails unfurled,
over a store of sunflower seeds
and the winner takes it all needs.
In between the dew laden brush
a tiny wren petite and small, hushed
slips in and out the color sprawls
of summer fading into fall
where humid heavy heat
slide gracefully in repeat.
In the wings, somewhere well hid
lay the hawk waiting in its grid
and the view is suddenly in pause
each creature is still listening because
the hawk with talons sharp and eager beak
ready and eager to swoop and sweep.
At the ready, both young and old
raise their voices loud and scold
the foolhearty risk takers that stay
so easily the hawk would steal away
then without his wanted prize
the hawk returns to the trees in disguise.
Within the common (all purpose room)
at highland manor apartments aye
daily encounter, one bewitchingly dreaded
fiendishly horrible, jeeringly loopy,
nap noopy, pugnaciously ravenous, talon
viciously wizened, xenophobic yeti, zapping
zeroing zillion zippers,
zoned Zuckerman alley bye
barred doors fate helplessly jury-rigged
sealed with with plaintive cry
no escape known to this man caught
in a deadly voodoo clutch,
thus doomed to die
ugly cannibalistic, frightful,
heathen rumors myopic eyes espy
alarmed at feeling trapped
akin to a wingless fly
tapping reserves of scape goat
coping techniques ingenuity,
which earned me moniker "fall guy"
where accursed cruel destined exit
from getting husked, issued
jagged lance like mandibles "hi
there unknown weekly reader", I
pray for super leftist
write hand man/woman to extricate
(via whipping up literary poetic fabrication),
then joining me to sing jai
(let victory prevail against killer odds)
perhaps summoning division
of British shiver rights phalanx,
hood reply with Hackneyed "oh kai"
springing surprise rescue,
sans swooping inside
this hermetically faux prison,
where Matthew Scott Harris doth lie,
yet realistic to accept my
demise without putting up
a good fight well nigh
but... if luck finds thee plucking this bard
(out maws of death) be treated to custom
ye will be rewarded with pie
ala mode enjoying a Quai
yet moment...yeah...fading hope...sigh!
This transmission is always meshed
Rotating gears of helical threshed
A dog clutch and synchronic ring
Engaging gears this fork in swing
Fourth, Third, second and first
Gears are changed at a burst
Just remember the letter H
When you move that stick
These gears don't grate
Shafts keep turning counter and main
Both can incorporate gears to twain
Idle and helical turning together
Select reverse, it’s truly clever
First, second, third and fourth
The dog clutch slides back and forth
Just select the one you need
Synchronized to match that gear's speed
So don’t forget this grand design
These gearboxes' built with smooth in mind
The next time you hear that crunchy sound
Just bear in mind your synch’s been ground
It’s only you not de-pressing that clutch
Firmly down, not double dee Dutch
So make this process smooth as can be
Then your transition will be sweet harmony
© Copyright K.C.Leake
17th October 2014
All Rights Reserved