Long Comb Poems
Long Comb Poems. Below are the most popular long Comb by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Comb poems by poem length and keyword.
Favorite Carolyn Devonshire Poem
History Rising from the Sea
Treasure from the sea
Golden doubloon
Sixteenth century artifact
By ancestors hewn
Earth's history lays buried
Beneath five oceans
As undersea tremors
Create violent commotions
Freeing from Spanish galleons
Precious metals, gemstones,
To greet early beachcombers
History on loan
Memories of bygone ages
Scattered on the sand
Finally kissed by sun again
While in a searcher's hand
I pursue this morning trek
With Atlantis on my mind
Seeking proof at last
In treasures I might find
When ancient civilations
Seem to disappear
Comb the beach, you might find
The evidence is here
For from a phoenix rising
New finds appear each day
And I'll not stop searching
Till doubts I can allay
Caroline and I shared of love of water - she the ocean and I lakes and Puget Sound. Her poems flow like tides - effortlessly - with bits of wisdom scattered like treasures of seashells or driftwood found on the beach. This poem speaks of our mutual love of beachcombing for treasures and the pondering of history brought to mind by life's flotsam.
The poem below represents my tribute to Carolyn.
Girl on a Dolphin
Stargazing ocean pixie
Rides the playful weathered waves
To surf the ocean tides
With laughing dolphins
Leaps to catch Delphinus
Starfarer in a star bound chrysalis
To ride this five star celestial constellation
On heaven sent lapis astral waters
Wearing moonstones like Apollo’s poetry
Where starry Aquila flies to Lyra’s music.
Salt spattered waves only gaze
At a girl – eternal sea sprite –
That sits atop a stellar dolphin
And feels the shell torn loss
Of feet that danced through tidal pools,
Delight and awe surging through her signature,
As time bound day searches midnight legends
To align in twinkling sidereal day –
A quest for remnant memories in verses
Of a star born spirit – girl riding on a dolphin.
For Carolyn
8-19-21
Contest: Celebrating Carolyn's Poetry – Not a Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
The constellation Delphinus is made up of five stars and can be seen between the constellations of Aquila, the Eagle, and Lyra, the Lyre. It is named for two Greek legends based on dolphins one of which tells of Apollo setting a dolphin in the sky in gratitude for saving the Greek poet Arion. Apollo is the god of music and poetry.
January 24th, 2023 Hair washing heralds huge happening
Hark….the herald angels sing, and twitter
for mass communication
mediums stop the presses
when I, a regular schlemiel
take shampoo to mine matted mass mop
(no less than once a week)
of straggly follicles, and commence
to dispense with the heady eco system
viz rare crop of flora and fauna
(some rank as endangered species)
rub and band together
to scratch envy of
flaky key neigh bring ponytails
and create quite an niche,
and where also can be found
lousy knit wit vendors ready to scalp
and give shaft to razor sharp purveyors,
who mane lee scout out available
head and shoulder room to nap
without a stir, tub bed down
(praying Holy Scott no wash out
nor Harris mint occurs),
or burrow vis a vis,
where subcutaneous porous droplet size
watership down pieces
of prime residence found
counting one mister comb lee
bald bold faced realtor
amidst competing rival
bulb buss Edward scissorhands
(with knot to heavy a price toupee)
affianced to rapunzel,
whom he sheared split ends
as her barber of civil,
one dapper dander ruff dude to offer
lice cent shuss insects a tonsured
cut above other stylish habitués
preferring to fraternize,
glad-hand, and hobnob
amidst a cluster of big wigs
housed by yours truly - Samson
in gleaming puffy pompadour
pads tightly secured
with the best dreadlocks,
which harum-scarum
green barrettes serve
as first line of rinse able defense
IdentityGuard (with franchisee
Bob O Link averse to split hairs, but fierce
as a Mohawk and ring leader
to protect any curl of mine)
waving away intruders,
who if insist tubby persistent
and tangle with fate
cannot expect camaraderie
from buzz cutting crew i.e. the fuzz
to give expletive filled lathering,
severe shame poo wing subjugation
plus an up braiding experience),
and teach stragglers
they will suffer
a real perm in hint bang up job
if they brazenly brush
against brylcreem of the crop
rooted as rightful heirs
(hairs) of tousled doo mane,
thus concludes my tail.
Postscript: Yours truly
an aging long haired
seventh generation pencil neck geek
finds ultra joy when
volunteering for kitchen duty,
hence imagine the hypothetical picture
portraying Geico caveman
mimicking pseudo dawn of humanity.
Two people cannot see the same way but they can teach
One another their ways. One gives up body and soul
To follow the flow of the historical woman until
He can close his eyes and glide through mountains effortlessly.
He gives up earth and he gives up air, he gives up being touched
But he forgets to give up desiring to be touched. Then
One day the sun is hot or the moon is full, he desires
Uncontrollably to be touched and he flies smack
Into the mountain and never comes out the other side.
You live to prepare yourself to die. You leave behind
A wreck of strewn projects or a few icy pearls.
Incredibly you leave your voice behind saying
Over and over again the same words. You leave
Memories of yourself behind as pictures in the heads
Of people who wish you weren't dead or hadn't been alive.
They wash the pictorial body, shave it, comb your hair
The way they liked it best, cut a little here, add a little there,
Then easily, easily and kindly forget you.
Two hundred years later the wall crumbled and burned.
The ashes were spread logically across the plain,
A mathematical formula could describe the distribution.
The ashes were like seeds and from them
A thousand higher walls were made. It was lovely
To see those walls breathing imperceptibly
Shifting their glances so slowly as to go unnoticed
Behaving as if they were dead.
If I breathe, they breathe. If they are ash, so am I.
Having tried to separate myself and failed
I donate my body to science. The wall needs me
To breathe and hear. It gets my ears and lungs.
Trees need me to cast their night spells.
Are they asleep or are they dancing
A primitive fertility dance in the forest?
I choose trees because they can watch everything
From the distance of longevity.
To them I donate my soul.
Everything should be made of earth.
Earthen walls, earthen homes, earthen bodies, earthen sex.
Nothing should be made of air. Earth should inhale
And exhale air. Air should whip and caress earth.
Air should dry it out and crumble it. Earth.
Water should wet it and dissolve it. Earth.
What is the function of fire? Fire makes earth permanent
And then fire makes earth into air. Water
Makes earth into mud. Mud makes earth into homes.
Homes make earth into walls. Walls make the earth breathe.
Breathing makes the earth crumble. Crumbling
Makes the earth seed.
My dear brother Butch,
Hair are the highlights of my week:
I got a job at the Hairway to Heaven salon!
Our motto: "We color your hair or dye trying"
When the interviewer said "I mustache you a question..."
I answered, "May I mullet over?"
Seriously, working there is a shear delight,
with some nice fringe benefits
They're a real cut above the rest
and I shave a lot of money on hair products...
I bought Dad a comb for Father's Day… I bet he'll never part with it
It is a long drive to the salon, but now I know all the short cuts
Oh hey, I know hair-growth seminars are not your style, but
call up your receding hairline buddies and comb on over!
It was great to see you last week, you are looking so trim!
I still feel terrible about the curling iron incident…
You can rest a-sheared I'll straighten it out
but I mussed warn you, you might get fro straighted
Just remember, $15 for a hairpiece is a small price toupée
You may not like short hair at first, but it will grow on you
...that's the mane thing
Did you hear Mom and Dad had a brush with death?
It was a very hairy situation with a real twist:
buzzing down the highway at a decent clip
someone tried to cut them off
Mom was ready to wig out, curl up and dye, but thankfully
Dad went to great lengths to avoid an accident
so there was no permanent damage
you had to see it to be-weave it
Ok, time for a couple of jokes to lighten the mood:
How does the man on the moon trim his hair?
Eclipse.
Why did Pavlov have such fabulous looking hair?
Conditioning.
Why do felines groom with their tongues?
They can't find their catacombs.
Why did the little girl watch "Black Stallion" more than "Babe"?
She liked pony tales more than pig tales.
What was the barber's sign before he went on vacation?
"Hair today, gone to Maui"
Did you hear about the novelty store selling fake piles of dung?
It was sham poo.
Just teasing!
Take hair,
Curly
The big, bad wolf wears a suit of gray with a snide smile.
Standing upright, he believes himself to be debonaire
as he takes his comb from his breast pocket and slicks back his hair.
Why does he flash his pearly white fangs
and file his claws 'til they're razor sharp?
He smells the fear of docile creatures; he taunts the weak,
stalking his prey while vultures circle overhead in waiting.
The face of evil in a fairy tale with girls wearing red cloaks
and shepherd boys watching their flocks on hillsides.
Flames like daggers from his yellow eyes pierce the pastoral images.
Clear skies become dark by his phantom-like shadows.
He walks tall in black boots of Italian leather
towering higher than treetops in their eyes
beyond the echoes of his menacing laughter.
The woodland creatures cower in their hiding places,
yet hope for a glimpse of the beautiful princess
in her dazzling horse-drawn carriage crossing the forest.
Through the darkness, the ancient land shines like an emerald
with fragrant flowers in bloom; the petals strewn her path
in a storybook from a child's shelf between rainbow bookends.
Surely, heavenly showers shall rain down on the land
and good shall overcome evil with rainbows coloring the pages
as an enchanted princess in a shimmering gown rights all wrongs,
though her strength is not immediately evident.
Melodious birds fly on the outskirts of the tale,
orbiting the forest without fear, searching for the light.
The princess, oblivious to danger, dances amongst the trees
calling the shy creatures from their hiding places.
She ignores the wolf's hideous laughter in a dream-state.
Looking for her prince, she kisses a frog to no avail
then spies three little pigs with curly tails and fearful eyes.
They know the wolf too well. His gray suit coats the dreams
of their happily ever afters. Our heroine, the princess, wipes their tears,
rolls up her sleeves, and builds a brick fortress.
She bravely changes history to her story not giving in to fear.
Fear only fuels her adrenalin rush 'til the job is done.
The wolf huffs and puffs, bites and claws unable to infiltrate.
He eventually sulks off on all fours with his tail between his legs
and is never heard from again. At least, not in this storyland.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
for Fairy Tails contest (Debbie Guzzi)
*the wolf is personified
Let me hold you in my arms,tight and close like am gonna lose you or like its the last moment with you. Let me set the rhythm right,let me feel your soft slow breath against my skin and hear each heart beat as time whines away.
The quality of wine is determined by age,
How long it has taken to brew it.
The sweetness of the moment lies in our hidden pleasures
Of dreams so sweet but encaged in our hearts for a long time.
Let set them free as you;
Let me hold you in my arms,tight and close like am gonna lose you or like its the last moment with you. Let me set the rhythm right,let me feel your soft slow breath against my skin and hear each heart beat as time whines away.
I won't say a word,
For my terms may spoil the moment.
In silence let's clear our minds,
Listen to the whispers of the wind
But then;
Let me hold you in my arms,tight and close like am gonna lose you or like its the last moment with you. Let me set the rhythm right,let me feel your soft slow breath against my skin and hear each heart beat as time whines away.
I promise not to insist,
And not control what the moments consist,
I ll comb your hair along its course
Down behind your ear,
But before then;
Let me hold you in my arms,tight and close like am gonna lose you or like its the last moment with you. Let me set the rhythm right,let me feel your soft slow breath against my skin and hear each heart beat as time whines away.
I will not open past wounds,
I will dress them not with past bandages
But given a chance I ll nurse them
With olive oil and sweet scented ointment
Draw the pain away with minor caresses
But for this to be accomplished;
Let me hold you in my arms,tight and close like am gonna lose you or like its the last moment with you. Let me set the rhythm right,let me feel your soft slow breath against my skin and hear each heart beat as time whines away.
If you ain't comfortable,
Tell me and I ll let go,
If you feel guilty,
Tell me and I ll maintain distance,
Despite the ache in my heart
I will bury the deep anticipation of pleasure
Bound in asking you to;
Let me hold you in my arms,tight and close like am gonna lose you or like its the last moment with you. Let me set the rhythm right,let me feel your soft slow breath against my skin and hear each heart beat as time whines away.
Form:
Why can I not write?
I am overwhelmed
By the minutiae of everyday life!
Dawn comes, and I awake, but no!
I pull the covers over my head
And close my eyes tightly
Against the coming day.
I am not ready yet!
When I can avoid it no longer
I sit up and dress, reluctantly,
Take the dog out, bring
Him in and feed him,
Give him fresh water.
Give him his pills and
Spray his poor shaven rat tail
With anti-itch lotion,
(He has a hot spot!)
And put some ointment on it.
I fix some breakfast,
Wash it down with yesterday’s coffee.
Take the cats some fresh water,
Get them their breakfast,
And clean the litter,
Wipe Sweetie Pie’s eyes
And put drops in them.
I’ll comb out both Sophie
And Sweetie Pie later on.
I make my bed and
Clean up the dishes,
Get out my big green backpack
And put Doug’s clean clothes in it.
Oops! I forgot to start the laundry
I brought home yesterday!
It’s already 10:30, and I
Have to leave by five to eleven!
Spray on the sun lotion,
Check that I have my Patriot ferry
Pass and the SPF 50 lip balm
Doug asked me to get.
It’s hot and humid, but I trudge
Twenty minutes to the ferry
For the half-hour boat ride
That I actually enjoy!
Just me, the water, sun and breeze
For 30 minutes of quiet
For my not-so-peaceful mind.
Three hours to have lunch with Doug,
Bring him up-to-date with
All the news of friends and family,
Watch him in physical therapy
And learn what I will have to do
In a few weeks when he gets home!
Back to the van, back to the Patriot ferry,
And another brief time for myself.
I walk home, hot and tired.
Take Andy out, finish the laundry
And hang it out on the line.
I think it won’t rain tonight.
Run to the store for some
Necessities, cat food in particular,
Check the e-mail, answer some notes,
Water the parched garden
Take Andy for a walk, and
Then feed him his dinner.
Time for MY dinner, but what?
Let’s see. I sauté a couple of
Chicken tenders in the small pan,
Slice up a whole tomato,
Add some cantaloupe and cottage cheese,
Eat some of it and fall asleep
In the chair in front of the
Fan on its highest setting.
I wake up with a start and make
Myself get up and clean up the kitchen,
Afterwards, I watch a couple
Of mindless television shows
While I make mental lists
Of what I have to do tomorrow.
Dear sister I have been mistreated but surely not defeated
The fit are unruly and those who rule unfit to wear their minds along their brow
Pitted and fallen are we claimed she
Uproot all the timid, surely they’ll quake
The Earth is at rest while the heavens are testing
Surely the catacombs are our place of hiding
Rapture the worthy, the poor, and the hopeless still more
Braven the brittle and salvage what’s left of the widow’s stores
For we are at war, O’ good women, it’s a fight they will get
A Patriot cry, a life worth living, a pride in my name that keeps me standing
Hearty or meek, we’ll take the keep
Bind them up, but don’t let them bleed for pure bred savages are what we need
The breasts of the mothers who weep for the bodies
The weary who laugh gas portrait tears leaving their insight foggy
The Devil is hunting, Oh but let him flee
For our fists will have him fishing for his faith like rotting bait
Breeding among us are the wolves that seek only to measure their gut
And they will fill the skies 70 meters high with the the must of unfinished feet
Winded by bows of boredom and broiled beliefs
Sifted through, borrowed, unused
The lazy will not lay seated in our ancient sanctuaries
They will lay pitted among the soiled seeds and left to the leeches
Reign in the kingdom of popular knowledge do both snakes and sirens
Danger is beneath us and furnaces over heat us,
Leavened bread will rise our eyes to the souls in need of teachers
If education ain’t free then dare me to teach for free
Let linen and fleece overwhelm us all
For the sun rises still again, constant with the moon
Midnight is foreign and sunlight is gloom
For inside these walls our eyes will close soon
The mirrors outs our flaws and undersea our scars
But heaven is shaking and creation’s worship awaits us
If every day is good and every evening soon
Then tomorrow is only distant, a matter of your zoom
Jupiter is rising further south than my liking
Perhaps it was the wind that blew it there
Or the birds that sang it somewhere upstairs
Or the lions that laughed it underneath body beats
Or the vines carried it to prepare it for more pruning
Signs are timing and the clocks are not ceasing
So listen little one, I know you are bare, but don’t be a fool
Comb your hair.
Your words are always pleasant to my soul
and their intent sweet as honey in its comb
and where you walk buds and blossoms flower
my desire to capture its beauty in every hour
Your movements are married to every virtues grace
and we ourselves desire to clearly reflect its face
you did seek our healing of every wounded pain
and all its comforts is the song of its refrain
They are drawn to you like a mighty crowd
though you are soft spoken not among the loud
it is your solace they seek in all their days
until the time they learn the fullness of your ways
Like the earth we are mired in its clay
until we are molded into learning Love your way
so baked and scorched like the deserts of the earth
until your reign is known and of its worth
Soft and tender like a mother to her babe
barely a whisper the voice the spirit made
you drew pictures in every word we heard
until its knowledge we have completely learned
Like children you gave everyone your own affection
directed them to give the highest values their inspection
fed those who followed all their bodies , hearts and mind
taught them to seek until the noble virtues find
And as we grew taught us the things to cherish
that we must never allow those things to perish
and this is why I will always turn to you
there is such sweetness the things you taught to do
There can never be enough lifting of your praise
you have sought to give us love with everlasting days
So gently did you treat us like a newborn child
rocked us with your own songs and of a love that's undefiled
I hear your music its like an evening serenade
I long to hear it the songs of life's parade
you are my King the master of its every song
among your company where I desire to belong
The spirit and the bride say
Come and take life's water free
amen Let your kindgom come
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
o seeker read these words and weep
for thy soul so still asleep
as yet unawakened to
this world of love divine and deep
o seeker hear these words and sigh
thy soul and god are ever nigh
divided by the doors of mu
unopened 'til the day we die
unless by dint of effort one
may bring the doors of mu undone
enjoying thus enlightenment
ye lama, sufi, saint or nun
what is the point of seeking this
when life is won by kill or kiss
and pleasure reaps its own reward
why bother with eternal bliss?
yet the mystic path endures
the sacred flame divine allures
the love of truth and wisdom high
even though all love injures
o seeker fill thy heart with joy
all pain dissolves if thou employ
the wisdom of which masters speak
to each and every girl and boy
o seeker fill thy mind with wonder
if ye hear the sound of thunder
understand the lightning strikes
to split the living tree asunder
for if the living tree survive
rent to the heart exposed alive
what might it say to bears about
the bee, the honey and the hive?
so can thy soul be struck by love
from below or from above
when the bolt is from the hand
invisible without the glove
ember in the hearth of home
star of truth high in the dome
hand of divine destiny
pearly shell become the comb
mother earth and father sky
long ago created i
living songline living still
o seeker dost thou wonder why?
o seeker pray and meditate
live and love and contemplate
render naught to worthy not
raise thy children true and straight
o seeker sing a soft refrain
perceptive be and still remain
turn the blade of vagary
with harmony for love to reign
is life through which we fleeting pass
a grain of sand inside the glass
or the eye that sees it fall
compassionate despite the farce?
how great the beauty so sublime
of poesy replete with rhyme
harmonic of the simple truth
transcending bonds of mortal time
i heard thee calling from afar
ahura mazda avatar
keeper of the sacred flame
sent through the doors of time ajar
thy silent voice so sentient
spake words of wisdom and lament
once heard in kingdoms of the rose
still written in the roses scent
simple message yearning for
one open heart from evermore
light on water musical
perfumed garden, divine law