Long Coo Poems
Long Coo Poems. Below are the most popular long Coo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Coo poems by poem length and keyword.
SUDDENLY SOMETHING
Have you ever spent a night in a six by ten foot cell?
Well that’s where my FESTERING fears dwell
And no one with a prescription pad will write for a junkie born and bred
Did you ever wish more earth dwellers would all suddenly be dead
Look, there’s a pretty little miss, oh it’s daddy’s little girl
She dances on my feet when she starts to whirl
I told her to hold down her pleated skirt when she begins to twirl
My little girl with a smile and every tooth a perfect pearl
In silent supplication I’d sneak up to hear her prayer for that eve
I just wanted to hear daddy’s little girl pray and then I would leave
First she blessed the Almighty, his spirit and his soul
Making prayers come true was her sole and only goal
It could be a league of angels advising her on the right thing to do
Or sprites to make all things look like new
It might be little singing stars, from above came they for you
So your daughter can ignore an errant and off key dove pleased not to coo
She looks completely comfortable in a cloak and coat of cashmere
S**t, I’d trade an arm for her body no matter what she may wear
Whatever happens next is only though fate to be willed
And if you listen closely one can hear the breeze being stilled
Alas she grows nigh with hips swinging and lips moving
And then those loquacious lips emitted “would you care to have a tea”
I knew she could hear by heart from across the table
And then it was only silence, lovely her and me
“Look, me and that lady over there are wearing the same dress”
And so whatever she was going to do it may have to be under duress
“that lady has the a copy of my original,” and she was enraged
Something tells me your friends have never been caged
I’ve been penned up with a pen, pen pals and ten pencils, but only one isn’t too dull
You’d think out of all those pencils there’d be one sharp one to cull
So you’re daddy’s little girl no longer my sweet
But I’ll let y’all know when next we can meet
So when I first talked about being caged in a cell
if asked for the truth my story would be difficult to tell
Because each eye a gem, each tooth a pearl
So tell me sweetheart, are you still daddy’s little girl
© 2011.……free cee!
And s.b.---if you are gonna ask me, so where’s the nexus from one thing to another I
say go have another glass of vintage brandy.
~ (~) About a teaspoon it takes me in the morning-coffee-that-is. (~) ~
~ (~) Cream more, sugar, a little-less, though truly I still do prefer my cup fresh brewed... its
superb when piping hot you know it sure is tasty. (~) ~
~ (~) Searching through those IM's e-mails trickle-trickle-hiss-bubble-pop-pop love-is-groovy
you bet man red lights hot lights an honor yes-I feel they're all an-honest testament that
hollowed ground is sacred... . Illuminating one and another their shadows dandling-along-a-
part-of-the-simple-collection-of-rain-puddles offering-their-jest, and from the beginning you-
know-I-believe they all exist as one light dancing together-until the very end. Because as
they vary; pale shades of poetic Grey, they carry for me of feeling but one of two tones
jocularity;
bitterness... . (~) ~
~ (~) Intoxicating really the harshness of Winter-fervency-of-Summer sweet rejoinder
cultivation of all our prayers... Spring... ! (~) ~
~ (~) Took a stroll amid the saffron all grown up in the Autumn laying down beside the day
lilies wisteria grace gently caressing them enchanting... . (~) ~
~ (~) Vibrant I find it all to be so very encouraging. (~) ~
~ (~) Looking now the frost once thick-crisp driveling down beading up upon the many grassy
shoots tulips lavender flower the mighty pines-now-reflecting-a-dewy-vapor, refreshing to the
touch, taste; hues of virtue mirroring this, glistening-upholding-all-things, in-their-
timelessness. (~) ~
~ (~) Life evolving hope offers this proposal questions often posed answers granted remain
open... because I believe peace and freedom this way friend are forever evolving,
while love all year 'round, it waits... pondering-this; as it deliberates... . (~) ~
~ (~) Like glistening crystal pools of alabaster sands scented-up diaper dusty-talcum baby
baby powder, funny contentment privy-so-privy I love the way newborns their eyes tend to
wander as they coo, all jovial, and-warm... surrounding all they know of God themselves in
the wake of the room... . (~) ~
~ (~) The birth of enlightenment a burst of individuality in every glance; I can't today but
maybe you, tell me now God is a farce, remaining kindle to the kind-less...
still the kinder... . (~) ~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcGJb-mPMmg
Oddra was a little birdie who was locked in her gold guilt cage.
On the eve of her destruction she was too quick in throwing down her page.
Serendipity had led her to the most wonderful birdie carnival in town.
Little then, did any know, that soon would come WWE, Smack Down.
She spread her wings and danced and sang and flitted all about.
The she started out and shared a bit….OK…she shared a lot!
She was in her groove! Or At least that’s what she thought.
This is when the lines got crossed, causing the great confusion.
That escalated to pointing fingers blame and accusation of delusion.
Unfortunately, her listening was selective. So this is all she heard,
whispers, “What kind of bird is that, a loon, a coo-coo bird?”
“She looks a little parroty to me”. Writing on the wall read, “sitting duck”
Unwittingly she’d stepped on toes, as misconceptions flowed both ways.
She had no idea that some had known her from before, in better days.
She did not hear nor see them. Did not hear them rapping at her door.
The kept reaching out a hand to say hello. She appeared to just ignore.
Who’d be talking to her there? She’d never been there before.
She completely missed her half of her poor friend’s ironic one way conversation.
She shared again, totally unrelated, that fit in perfect context as brutal provocation.
After this, the demarcation line of friend and foe becomes a little blurry.
Each perceived the others actions as offensive resulting in actions of fury.
Hold a pen in front of you, from end to end, creates a line.
But hold looking down its barrel and it’s circular in design.
Both are true, and also both are lies. In the end they’re both the same.
Is an Oddra not an Oddra even with a different name?
Here’s my stamp, Divine Design; classic, tragedy and comedy. That was the only
mask.
Oddra, cursed the circled ones. The lines, drawn in the sand, doomed her as their
task.
The lines devised a brilliant plan: having placed some peas around a hole they’d
made in some ice,
“Apocapus”, as she’d been dubbed, “She has to pee sometime, When she comes up
to take a pea
we’ll kick her in the ice hole.”
There it is my friends. Oddra was Slammed dunked!!
This is just tale. I to this I will fully digress, I am a very Odd Duck!!!
There were those too, caught in the middle, undeserved bad luck!!
Form:
Setting: a cafe, chamonix, in hand a tea.
Across- a woman, seated, not seeing me.
Embarrassed I am,
that I, a questionable I,
like a lamb: 97 and 1 kilogram,
am engulfed by her,
like Noah by heavanly mer.
Can I help it?- No!
That this Helen
this doe
or maybe Annabel of Poe
has transfixed me so
No!
For she, unbeknowest to anyone but me,
has -- like a jockey to horse--
narrowed my vision, my every decision.
My goals, my independent roles,
are all now but foes
Dürers'crows
to that of this woman,
to that of this Syren;
A homeric vision calling my name,
my thoughts [set completely in frame].
For she is Femme French,
whose lip, whose tongue, whose
unequaled gaze,
melts hearts, muffles minds, and
spirits sets a daze;
She is a picture Romaine-
a poetic refrain-
a Cloud Loraine-
Tout l'univers(se), turning perverse-
all those once sane.
And when you, pardon- she
speaks; «please, more tea»
she, unknowingly, speaks to me,
wow, she trully speaks to me.
Votre langue francais,
what can I say.
We in the west, at our best
butcher and hack at our speach,
yet you- lyrically spue- a harmonious
coo,
a ventricular breech....
Our « (c)(h)(o)(c)(o)(l)(a)(t)(e), »
americanized, anglasized,
Is not as sweet as your---
« chocolat »--- taste that
mmmm-hmmm
tis better, the way you pronounce every letter
as in decrouver, or illuminer.
To think, that this, your verbal kiss,
turns me so amiss.
But lets ((focus))- back to the Now,
sitting in chair, starring at her hair-
tied back, pulled back, let's get abstract:
lips parted, bangs parted.
Her cheeks lifted- my heart uplifted.
Facial confusion!
Her eyes whisper, « mister, »
maybe sinister?
Who knows, maybeee... the nose!
Striking a pose-
Running, twitching, creating true woes-
in a heart that weeps, reeps, but rarely sows.
Now you can see what she does to me.
my mind is adrift, but who cares- What a Gift!
To be lost in her presence- a humble
peasant- in the present is a present.
So- I'm sitting in a chair,
staring, glaring, intimately at her,
seeking, searching, for our eyes to
meet, to greet, in lustful heat,
for her to return my gaze
and to be lost in that haze till the
end of my days....
But wait.... What is this.
Something is amiss.
A realization, a *****?
OH GOD....
I have a *****...
****. I'm just another creepy loner.
Form:
God asked Noah to build an ark
he was happy to oblige
but he wasn't so keen
when he found out
what had to go inside
Two of every animal
then you must set sail
the animals were fearful
the whale began to wail
Even the Gnu knew
this idea would surely falter
but every beast preferred this idea
than being led by nose to slaughter
Noah followed the order
from gnat to lion to horse
this was a recipe for Pandamonium
but Noah knew this of course
Seating plans were issued
but an almighty row took place
The lion the king of the jungle
argued that he was a special case
The Queen Bee wanted second billing
while the Emperor penguin demanded a throne
while the homing pigeon panicked
at not being able to find his way home
Nightime was the worst
sleep was beyond them all
with the woodpecker continually pecking
and the gloworm lighting up the hall
The doves tried to keep the peace
as all hell broke loose
while bets were taken on who had the longest face
the horse, anteater or moose
The pandas tried to be romantic
sleep deprivation made their eyes go black
the magpies kept stealing the others duvets
and the squirrels were nuts to turn back
The elephants said they'd never forget
and they wished they packed more in their trunk
while the terrible smell that stunk out the place
was eventually blamed on the skunk
The bears awoke with sore heads
they had drunk all their supplies in one night
while the hyenas found it hilarious
at their next door neighbours plight
The crows shouted blue murder
but the bats were blind to it all
the ravens were ignored by the masses
as all they said was 'never more'
The maggots agreed it was just rotten luck
to be stuck in this mobile zoo
and every time the peacock showed his feathers
it made the pigeones coo
The badgers were set in their ways
the sheep said their wool was a curse
while the spiders got a verbal warning
for using a sows ear to weave up a purse
Finally they found dry land
the hare raced out in the lead
while the tortoise said there was more to life
than doing everything at top speed
Noah was happy that the journey had ended
and this was the end of the road
but at least one species had enjoyed the trip
the rabbit population had increased ten fold!
I think perhaps
The heart of a child really is
Heart shaped...
Like those on valentine cards,
Delicate and soft with seed pearls
dainty lace and fancy glittered
Ribbons, spilling over like happiness.
Yes, heart shaped,
You can tell by the sound of their
Laughter and of course by the was
They smile...
Babies coo the sweetest sounds and
We respond with silly conversations.
There is joy in the heart of a child when
They look at you...
Our voices comfort them as we lull them
To sleep, so lovingly we rock them to
Dream land, fast to sleep and ask the Lord
Their souls to keep...
Words from a song someone sang to us so
Long ago...'Hush Little Baby Don't Say
A Word'...'Lullaby And Good Night' and
More often than not, a self styled lullaby.
Suddenly they discover they have toes and
Fingers...
We love the way these strong little fingers
Pull at our hair and glasses and grab and twist
Our lips and scratch our faces...Ah, but we don't care.
Soon they are crawling and scampering across
The floor on all fours, then struggling to sit up
With backs stronger than we remember baby's
Backs should be at seven months.
Oops! Down they tumble and fall and tumble
As they discover this something called standing.
We offer fingers and hands to steady them as
they wobble...
Then almost before we know it, they rush to us
With those little out stretched arms.
They stagger on tip toes and take those first steps
To independence.
They have a look of amazement that says, 'I did it!' and
We reward them with applauds and kisses.
We grin and make telephone calls in celebration!
Our wonderful, beautiful babies know without a doubt
They now rule in this palace, this place, this home.
As babies grow we rarely miss a chance to brag to
Family, friends and neighbors, and often strangers
About the wonder and special qualities of our precious child.
Yes, the heart of a child is heart shaped like those
They draw with pictures of us in the middle...
Heart shaped by an intergenerational connection of family,
neighbors, friends and even that stranger that says
'Your baby is soooo adorable...
Babies give to us the breath of happiness,
Filling our heart with untold joy...
Now and forever!
Talk to me now...of day break
Of questing light
The sky
Salted with clouds
crimson with a spectrum of a rainbow at dawn
or
peppered with grey and raindrops
Sugared all
with the seeds of a new day
The question lies ahead
eventually we all must leave
I'm tired
Tired of mossy hills
Tired of rainbows
Spare me your rocks with they're glistening gentle
subtle hues
Spare me your mud brown here
red there
Spare me your ponds
your lily pads
Let me get over your lovely hidden pathways
you weeping willows
Oh please spare me!!!
Let me forget the walkways that stretch out so far
weathered wood and seagrass bound
that far out over the sands bring me
closer and closer
to your wild undulating blue so grey green blue sea
Don't dare me to love the sea anymore
That vast grasping calling tumultuous sea
Let me forget fine golf course grass yards
Forget me flowers
Forget me seeds
Forget me pine needle soft forest floors
and absolutely forsake me tall golden grasses that dip
and yaw in breezes
Forget me English gardens with archways
and ancient swings
with fancies and curiosity
Forget Me All fish ponds and lilypads
Let me forget the taste of oysters
Let me forget caviar on crackers with sour cream
Let me forget the taste of a fantastically season steak
hot dogs and home baked bread
Oh forbid me to remember the smell of a Christmas tree
and apples fresh from the orchards
Or peaches..plums and tomatoes hot from sun
Forbid me to want to water a flower again
Prevent me want to hear the sound of my footfalls
on cobbled paths
Beseech me never to think of salted air
Forbidden to me
to remember
what it was to kiss your lips
caress your every inch of silk
Swim in water
Dive and dip and flip
Never
to fly again when watching a bird
Resent and resist in me
the coo of my morning dove
on the day before her children leave her nest
I will not feel it again...I will not long for it if it is forgotten
I'll be ready to die then
Deny me all I love
Make me blind and mute and helpless and feeble first
That when I die
I die as I came
A stranger
wide eyed and awed
to the glory of life hereafter
When I became a mother, tremendous joy filled my heart,
But little did I know about this journey at the start.
I thought I knew what Love is, even Love profound,
With every cry and coo, every babbling, baby sound.
All my protective instincts kicked in naturally
And giving was a pleasure to my child, especially.
My heart was filled with Love to a degree without scope.
Everything of myself I invested in the center of my hope.
All the times when my child was so sick and listless;
Although I did all I could, I felt completely helpless.
Then all the worldly woes my child would be subjected to,
Like in school, the bullying, they'd have to suffer through;
All the cruelties of life a mother would gladly take on
To spare her child grief and sorrow, a mother woebegone.
All the sleepless nights don't end in their infancy,
They're just the prelude to all the years of worry yet to be.
When the teen years roll in though and on into early adult,
Mother becomes rather unimportant, is blamed for all the fault.
Suddenly the mother becomes stupid, the teen knows everything
And feels embarrassed when mother, along with, they must bring.
Many hurtful words are said that stab and bleed a mother's heart,
But unconditional Love remains though her heart is torn apart.
Still, her child is her child to Love, to guide, protect;
Harm her child and mother's wrath one won't wish to resurrect.
When one becomes a mother, there are years of sacrifice;
This role is for life and can't be bought for any price.
Each memory she cherishes, sustains her when she's forgotten.
Still she'll never trade for anything a child she's begotten.
A voluntary position with demands like no other role,
A mother signs on for, for life to always Love another soul.
I thought I knew what Love is, even Love profound,
Until with motherhood I was blessed and forever crowned.
When I became a mother and a life was trusted in my care,
So much more I understood for it's then I became aware
Of all my Mother's endless Love, multiplied by ten.
As a mother, from a mother, I've learned what Love is time and time again.
Entered in 'Non Romantic Love - Poetry Contest'
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
2018-04-07
In Boo Land ...
Every gagged mouth is covered
by a grave reeker hand
Raven black-cloaked, vomit foul specter
maniacally sob laughing
Someone’s been tilting the tomb bottles again,
tipping thru the Pet Sematary growling
Inflicting fear is the feral joy of the frightening
Scream suffering
is the howl pleasure of the torture pain
Boo Land,
welcome woe where random killing is a sure thing
Enter his morbid world, if you dare ...
cross the sanity threshold,
if you’re not scared
Boo Land
is an ostrich step out of the front door
Another gun murder
that’s not background check paid for
Fear is the underworld coin of this casket realm
It buys a lot of living dead qualms
about zombie parrot pirates perched at the helm
Scoundrel squawks with a 9mm trigger beak
Green paper caws with a burial holster lease
In Boo Land
is where many a scared souls are morgue laid
Loan shark’s bullet teeth
shred the pound of flesh not vig paid
Violent crime victims don’t get timely first aid
Body spare organs are taken from the gene pool water,
to a black market with a dirty dollar $ign color
Frankie clones in the making ... it’s a steal bolt buy order
In Boo Land
is where many a scared souls are coroner silenced
Feminine intimate violations
are off the haunted frat house charts
Bad boy wolves ravishing the little miss piglets
Misogyny grope temptation,
smear threats plays a finger tool part
Licentious desires are an inappropriate side bet
It’s the same ole heinous, privilege skin crimes,
committed in dim hallowed hall shadows
Canines getting-out-of-jail-free too many times
Another lusty boo-boo is landfill covered
So the boy cried wolf when the public spotlight blare came,
and the news splattered his foster name
Everyone said it was a small-town shame,
that a serial breath-taker said mommy issues was to blame
In Boo Land,
creeping fear stealthily walks upright
The fox in the dressy suit
wanna sweet baby talk,
and coo take you
to the crypt crib at night
Don’t be afraid to
Holler Loud ... or put up a fight,
if you think they got you
in their kill shot sight
Vicious and mean those two stray dogs
if not for my fence the female grey would
have quickly killed my two old dogs. She angrily bark
and looked as if she would lunge through the chain link fence.
I yelled at her in a booming voice with authority. She looked up at me
our eyes met and she left with tan behind her tail.
Out in the yard I first saw the robin, lying on his side
teeth marks sunk into his orange breast and back. He looked as if
he was taking flight but alas only his little soul soar into the heavens.
A few steps away by my wooden plank fence, where the day lilies
bout to burst into full bloom, lay the mourning dove at peace.
Dignified by a quick kill she lay the hues on her head glow like
a halo in the sparkle of the morning light. Those dogs just eager for the
kill left them intact. Did their little friends fly to the refuge of tree tops?
I gather my shovel and a small gift box and scooped them up, first
the robin then the dove and buried them in my garden with irises
tall and white had flowered.
On top
I placed a few colorful rocks. Sad? Nature is cruel against her
wondrous beauty. She reminds us how fragile life is. How unexpected
death can be. The earth is a miracle of life. Was this the robin part
of the pair that hopped around my yard? Splashed in my bird bath
and happily chirp together on my wooden plank fence. Yes she was
one of the flock of doves that gather on my grassy lawn to feed
upon the bugs and seeds and coo up in the branches of our
neighborhood trees. Late that evening I saw a single robin perched upon
my plank fence, it's head turn side to side. It looked and stared
a single chirp and flew into the sky. I did not notice those mourning doves
and did not recall their coos. Did they know their friend or mate did not escape? Life goes on the sun still shines, the rain still falls at night
the glow of the moon. My irises that night seemed to droop ever slight
towards the colorful rocks as if in prayer for a lost friend. I like to think
that angels enjoy the company of our little feather friends. So together they can fly upon heavens glorious blue sky, the robin and the mourning dove.