Long Cores Poems
Long Cores Poems. Below are the most popular long Cores by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cores poems by poem length and keyword.
They’re cute, little opossums; riding on Mama’s back;
her tail rail, secures precious brood.
They’ll grow to be lethal rats;
they’ll try to eat your dog or cat and they will probably win their battle, as they have, giant shoulder chips.
My Manx once tangled with opossum female and
since she had little tail;
great mouthfuls did her hinny make.
Proud of the white upon her chest,
she quickly cleaned up the mess and us,
none the wiser be.
For several days she laid around, our little calico clown; but she was aged and likely to do so.
Around the house she trod; with no marks or blood on bod; until she could no more and it puzzled us to our cores,
why she’d stopped eating.
We took her off to the Vet; a virus, we surely bet and
what a shock we did get, when Vet said,
“Opossum’s chewed up her behind!”
Surgery was our next option;
because an opossum went’a‘chomp’in.
In a couple of days we’d have to stop in and
pick her up, once again.
Listless at home, as our tabby roamed;
her little sister, her ego blistered;
examining tube sticking out her butt;
wouldn’t leave her alone,
so violent hisses and growls ensued.
For days on end, our humiliated furry friend;
would her long days begin, in such a moody brooding.
When that tube came out, happy calico clown,
like “Tigger”, bounced all around.
Table to table and chair to chair she leapt and
made us all shout; “Bad cat!”
Nevertheless, not one thing was broken.
Her sister, how she sniffed at the stitches,
in her hips; our Manx finally laid down the law and
let a big paw rip! Swatted Tabby was offended!
The hissing, spitting fight ensued; with Tabby rolling through the room; Manx, she released such gloom and doom that made Tabby a bit smarter.
Perhaps Manx’s situation, demonstrated by her jubilation, coupled with her agitation; rejuvenated her.
A lively “kit”, she was again
and I tell you, my Manx friend,
enjoyed her newfound days again;
happy that she was saved.
For a while, Tabby quivered;
dazed, she sat and shivered,
because Manx had sent her up proverbial river.
A double lesson, it had been;
though Tabby did irritate Manx again;
Manx from then on did engage in more careful play;
but not with an opossum.
folks, there is a brand spanking new
kind of idiot
that walks amongst us &
no,
s/he is not a ****ing zombie---
some film mustered creature who
erupts from the dead like some
fictional biblical ********
to wreak havoc on the rest of us
who deserve to suffer at the hands of
something that thanks to
Romero, O’Bannon, P.Jackson & the
Halperin brothers, we have to
endure.
the idiot in question of course is the
rich individual who has taken the time,
effort & moola to create anti-zombie
fortresses in the US, to protect
themselves from the
“zombie apocalypse”---
a special example of american
stupidity,
which because of the few random events
in the recent past, where morons
full of bath salts & meth have
gone on to a career in
munching on the face of their
fellow
delicious-looking, human,
has plagued the minds of those who
have nothing better to do &
nothing more to worry about
than the impossible attack from
a work of fiction.
while not much different than the
rich christians who go to such great
lengths as giving money to senators
who will push the further armament of
Israel, as well as always supporting
any kind of instigation brought on by
the good ol’ US of A, in the
middle east, with the hope that it will
bring about their “armageddon” a
little sooner,
these fanatics doing their damndest to
fend off zombies
(rising from the dead & for some reason
showing up on said idiot’s doorstep)
have gone the extra mile to invest in
what are often referred to as
“modern day castles.”
ranging from $600,000 (drop in
the bucket) to $12 million (steep, but ya
know we are talking about zombies here
people)
these dwellings o’ the delusional
bear such amenities as fully
fledged moats surrounding the premises,
underground missile silo bunkerdom,
personal air strips, panic rooms, safe cores,
helicopter landing pads, sniper towers &
even windows rumored to fend off
missiles as well (because apparently
zombies choose from a wide range of
violent killing methods) &
to add to the hilarity (hopelessness) of
it all, now they are being put on the
market for whatever reason…
maybe said rich imbecile has had a
bad string of financial luck, maybe they
are moving on to better & brighter
anti-zombie apocalypse compounds, or
maybe,
just maybe,
they have come to their senses?
"We can't ever fathom,
when the ceasing flicker of hope
flutters away,
and
escapes to an
endless forest;
the only charm in this
spellbound life is,
to chase that
scarred saffron second
and hue it with our own
enchanting light..."
As the fiddling
crescent basks
in this reborn moonrise,
I slowly blanket
my soul with
shivering sighs
of frozen stars,
as they trickle
down my lungs
and echo a
scentless spring,
where oceans
yearn to feel
the kiss of
floral zephyrs,
tickling their
turquoise sirens.
Perhaps,
I was once a
lifeless snowdrop,
a stygian silhouette
of midnight which
wrapped those
neon skies,
as black ice
melted in cores,
when pain became
my melancholic
soulmate and no
philosopher's stone
could turn this
solemn melody,
into sapphire ruins
of remedy.
Since my spirit
has hibernated
in this crystal castle -
I've been waltzing
in a wondering,
did my eyes
loose their dazzle
and become mere
colourless dots
of an oil pastel
portrait, as
this quill turned
vengeful for
its own spirit?
Did I break
my own heart,
by watering the
macabre of miracles?
Fading in
marigold mangroves
that whisper to
my delicate muse,
I feel the breaths
of mirthful wingbeats,
ricocheting and
making me swoon
over a pedestal of
pure sunrays.
Have I always
been this alive,
where these pulses,
reverberating
in my chestnut skin,
could wake me up
from the crestfallen
slumber?
Now, as these
topaz horizons
unfold their
golden carpet,
embroidered with
velvet peonies
and silk carnations,
I slowly bloom,
with a princess-cloak
of fluffy feathered
petals, resting
upon the crown of
emerald leaves,
bathed in chic
chocolaty lakes, as,
~ an empyrean lotus.
So, reminisce me
evermore, as an
imperfect lyric
of a dusky
peach pixie,
leaving footprints
of faith in a
muddy reverie,
for, on the
bluebell crest
of lush earth,
reigns this
rosy Cleopatra,
rhyming with
jeweled perfumes
of tomorrow.
To the legendary teacher I pay tribute
For imparting live voices to the mute
You paid gratitude
To the multitude
On the mountain top you stood
And all the heads understood
You never said ‘Never’
As admired in Geneva;
Tremendous work for real
Remains in me a thrill!
You explored the world
Left in me a living word
Instilled sight onto my mind
In place of being blind.
Domesticated me where I went wild
I lost you – I remain worried
Your education
Was a dedication
For my emancipation
Through marked participation
Hot springs of wits gush out of turgid mazards
Thus; unleashing veracity poses no hazards
From the famous profit and loss account
To how elasticity of demand is paramount
The art of blending species of flora in the gardens,
Merging ideas to console those carrying burdens
Powders mixed to thwart the woes of gout
For chemical blending of dust into ceramic tiles and grout
Artistic laying of tiles with no doubt,
Farmers add granules of compounds to combat drought
Mixing small grains into carling draught
Or into flour and oil for palatable dishes and crust
Spinning of the ginnery, linen craft
Crafting aprons which the chefs trust
Perpendicular tors of triumph echo from Arithmetic
Beneficiaries seducing lasses with cosmetics.
Rhyming rhythms of iambic pentameter;
With 13 amps flowing – records the ammeter,
Or 6 000 amps of the high voltage arc
Fusing rival elements into the Ark
Compelling hard cores of high resistance
Leaving them for complete ‘non-existence’.
We had signed the Teacher concession;
Of study, participation and concentration,
That was the ‘Moyo Treaty’.
Though the exam is always tricky
Finally we dilute the concentrate
Textbook to notes - our carbohydrate.
I recalled my teacher through secondary
That he knew no boundary
He taught to set apart
What had been one part
He taught negative effects of Mainstay,
But God has the main stay
That death has a long stay!
Water is enough to stay!
In that his last essay
He scribbled a lot I can’t say
Keys of wisdom I surrender
We can’t be put asunder
Teacher – pupil
Your words I fulfill
I can now feel
A gap I can’t fill!
Zorora murugare, Lala ngokuthula!
To the legendary teacher I pay tribute
For imparting live voices to the mute
You paid gratitude
To the multitude
On the mountain top you stood
And all the heads understood
You never said ‘Never’
As admired in Geneva;
Tremendous work for real
Remains in me a thrill!
You explored the world
Left in me a living word
Instilled sight onto my mind
In place of being blind.
Domesticated me where I went wild
I lost you – I remain worried
Your education
Was a dedication
For my emancipation
Through marked participation
Hot springs of wits gush out of turgid mazards
Thus; unleashing veracity poses no hazards
From the famous profit and loss account
To how elasticity of demand is paramount
The art of blending species of flora in the gardens,
Merging ideas to console those carrying burdens
Powders mixed to thwart the woes of gout
For chemical blending of dust into ceramic tiles and grout
Artistic laying of tiles with no doubt,
Farmers add granules of compounds to combat drought
Mixing small grains into carling draught
Or intp flour and oil for palatable dishes and crust
Spinning of the ginnery, linen craft
Crafting aprons which the chefs trust
Perpendicular tors of triumph echo from Arithmetic
Beneficiaries seducing lasses with cosmetics.
Rhyming rhythms of iambic pentameter;
With 13 amps flowing – records the ammeter,
Or 6 000 amps of the high voltage arc
Fusing rival elements into the ark
Compelling hard cores of high resistance
Leaving them for complete ‘non-existence’.
We had signed the Teacher concession;
Of study, participation and concentration,
That was the ‘Moyo Treaty’.
Though the exam is always tricky
Finally we dilute the concentrate
Textbook to notes - our carbohydrate.
I recalled my teacher through secondary
That he knew no boundary
He taught to set apart
What had been one part
He taught negative effects of Mainstay,
But God has the main stay
That death has a long stay!
Water is enough to stay!
In that his last essay
He scribbled a lot I can’t say
Keys of wisdom I surrender
We can’t be put asunder
Teacher – pupil
Your words I fulfill
I can now feel
A gap I can’t fill!
Imagine every life we touch
could leave a trace of light
illuminating human souls
and shared by both alike
pairs of perfect pixels
locked in memories to shine
gathered for the golden years
to reminisce with time
Imagine every pixel
were a color of its own
as if to mark a moment passed
now etched its way in stone
every shade imagined
lights the way for every man
rainbow colored ribbons
since our spectral lives began
Color cores that speak of scores
of years and time now past
the spirits glow to brightly show
the trace that's meant to last
and carry on the hope of man
as lighted paths to follow
for should the light of hope be dimmed
the soul finds death will follow
Void of reds from rousing passions
never chanced upon
given or received the passion
pixel turned not on
darkness hides the fiery reds
when confidence is lacking
loneliness consumes the soul
with every year of passing
Orange bleeds the passions red
augmenting shades of yellow
strengthening endurance
as the fire starts to mellow
touch him not with orange light
that keeps him ever strong
his days endure in weakness
as his nights grow cold and long
With sunshine yellow happiness
essential to the core
however bright this pixels light
there's always room for more
without the glow the happy know
the sky need not the sun
to counts the days and all the ways
to end what life's begun
Green is where he emanates
of harmony and health
some may even say it's called
the measure of his wealth
either way the more he has
the more he has to give
so every soul that breathes a breath
can share the dream to live
Never cease to pass the peace
of pixel perfect blue
the purest and most precious
of the spectral crystal hues
if never known this light of peace
which brings the soul to rest
a destiny of darkness
will the soul alone possess
So draw upon your memories
of everyone you've know
and watch the rainbow colors fill
from all the love that's shown
stretched across a canvas sky
throughout your arc of time
rainbows are the trace of hope
each soul is left to find
- Jeannie Minor
Why don’t you come now
To the plot of blue river shore
Where we would
In an intense chocolate mood
Sit in a sun rise satisfaction
On the grainy sand
And create pearl drops of time
From the rhymes of waves
With the vibrancy we behaved
Exchanging those fine chimes
From our moonbeam dialectics
And converging synthesis
Of our hilltop thoughts and marine activities
After a diamond quest
Like the river
Or inside the river too?
How wonderfully we regressed and progressed
Making those radiant rings of time
Sometime winged
Sometime pink tinged
Time is bland and monochrome
Unless from your chromosome
You paint it like Van Gogh
Arresting the wayward clock
During which
Regardless of Greenwich
Taking colours from our river-wave flowers
Taking flavours from our cellular tremors
Taking sounds from our nascent heart pounds
Yours and mine
In our proximity alkaline
Would paint the wavelets
In the cups and plates
Opening the normally closed gates
Of sweet sweats
From each pore
And millions of such pores
From smiling to laughing in a petrichor
Unlocking the thousand doors
Of a colour continuum
From San Francisco to Baltimore
As we exchange our breath
From our deepening cores
Raising a rivulet
In the blue pigeon’s breast
And the bulbul’s beautiful crest
A supreme rest
In a purple tumult
Shadows lengthen in ecstasy
As sessions come to a termination
(No termination is possible though
What happens is a slow transformation
Of one melody to another music
Speeches flowing into lyrics
The sounds into stillness mystic)
So therefore
Bringing to the fore
From the amalgamated core
A flower of fusion
Pure and fresh
Out of the flood
No mire or mud
Looking at us conveying greetings
We look too
And from the meeting
A poem is born
Why don’t you come any more
Very often I look through the eye hole
Of my expectant door
The wishes naturally soar
In case I may see you coming
Dulcet sounds your feet strumming
But it’s all mist
I almost don’t exist
I miss the oasis
Of the cleansing catharsis
_____________________________________
19 May, 2017
For the Contest sponsored by Neyda Ivette Negron
Dancers
and health therapists,
meditators
and educators,
speak of an embodied
listening
and teachable "CORE."
We need,
on bad days,
and want,
on better days,
To exercise,
stretch,
fill and empty,
appreciate
and open
our empowering MindBody Core,
With healthy, resilient outcomes predicted
as a return on investment
for such deep enlightening listening
and learning
intention,
integrity
of compassionate purpose.
Back in the day,
religious
and warm spring breeze
front porch Sunday afternoon
philosophical,
spiritual
and natural lifeskills therapists,
polyglot poets
and brilliant essayists,
lovers
and naked co-passionists,
storytellers
and environmental storymakers
spoke
and sang
and danced
to restore our healthy
holistically wealthy
"Soul"
While my Core
seems to be Here
and Now about my autonomous body,
and our shared Soul
an advocate for active democratic process
ing co-passionately commun
icating bicameral
ly reiterative
reconnecting
re-ligioning minds,
For those who see
and sometimes hear
this mind-body
inside-outside
Janus-doublefaced, double-bound
leftbrain languaged Core curriculum distinction
without experiential rightbrain sensory
Soulfull/empty Zeroistic difference,
BodyCores may be useful to teach MindSouls
to think
and feel
interdependent CoreSoul
holistic
holonic
holy-spirited
animus-Mundi
EarthTribe soul-core Us,
A non-elite sacred we
restoratively experienced much differently
than OldSchool royal WE,
As "tu" would prefer to soulfully heal
relationships "vous" might choose to punish,
to exclude from high society's
deep delusional
and boxed-in bored
monoculturally self-disempowering
patriarchally unenlightened
EcoSystemic EarthMother Core
embryonic womb.
Personal ZeroSum risky secularized
monetized Cores,
like mortally autonomous bodies,
may also be political
and economic
NonZero reorganizing co-invested mindbodies
encircling compassionate HolySouls.
When we walk together
our Cores move in linear
or circling sympathy
And when we dance as one
our Souls feel
and know
Here as also Now
co-empathy.
No one seemed to take much note at first.
Old-timers on park benches passed a comment or two,
Somebody wrote a letter to the local rag,
but no one (who mattered, that is)
really seemed to mind.
Of course, you will always have
your bellyachers and woolly romantics
with nothing better to do than whine
about the way things are going, -
the loss of bird life, the silenced dawn chorus,
the vanishing English hedgerow,
you know the sort of thing.
The leaves began falling long before autumn.
"Funny," they said, "curious," "that's one for the book."
This was all very interesting for botanists,
environmentalists, chemists and the like.
Such words as "pollution," "soil erosion"
and "deprivation" were bandied about,
but no one was much the wiser though
the experts were agreed on one point.
"Photosynthesis provides the basis of all life."
This was interesting but nothing like
as interesting as the favourite for Ascot,
the football results, the Top of the Pops,
the late night thriller or the FT index.
All that changed.
Foresters and timber merchants became concerned
about the decaying cores of many trees.
The government became concerned, too,
(not so much about the fate of the trees as such
as about the effect the scarcity of wood
was having on the paper industry and inflation).
Then the doom-watchers caught the scent
and there was talk of an imminent ecological collapse,
but the man in the street still
passed it all off as the usual load of rot.
Then Kew Gardens, Epping Forest, Central Park,
the Everglades and the Bois de Boulogne
went the way of all wood.
A tramp, locally known as Nat the Nut,
was found in the village cemetery gibbering,
Before being bundled into an ambulance,
he was heard to say:
"With these very ears I heard 'em groan,
and this is what one of 'em said:
'Tonight we are dying, yew and I,
and the morrow sees us dead.'
And the willows wept in the valleys
and the trees on the hills pined away."
When the harvest failed,
the church bells tolled
for a woe no man could gainsay,
for none doubted then the trees were lost
or held it was only they.
my angel, fallen ...
gossamer linen, violet lace
window-dressing body, pressing
goddess of unblemished grace
beckoning - urge reckoning
clasp me, push me ... down with you.
close, to see my eyes in yours
heart of darkness, warm and artless
measured with our carnal cores
fallowed - soon, unhallowed
pull me, draw me ... down with you.
savor sweet, your taste is mine
greedy swallows fill my hollows
faultless form, engorged supine
whetted - blade unfettered
cut me, rend me ... down with you.
pity, fawn to take me in
I, the frozen quarry, chosen
bartered virtue, ceded sin
merging - madness surging
gather me, wrench me ... down with you.
each dynamic sates a thirst
a darkened oath devours both
raptured sighs so unrehearsed
spasm - plunging chasm
drench me, drown me ... down with you.
painted nails to flay my frame
stripes of lust, a jealous trust
lesions roused for fervor's flame
unversed - do your worst
stain me, rake me ... down with you.
feral places, once denied
cognate parts to blackened hearts
souls and selves we can't divide
twisted - double-fisted
grind me, burn me ... down with you.
sing to me a siren's wail
rip the rhyme from all sublime
watch the frenzied portions flail
disguised - hell, improvised
smite me, drag me ... down with you.
all in, my angel ... fallen
so sweetly, and
so deeply
down.
with.
you.
** This is a poetic form I created called “Torridelle”, (not the actual shape, but the rhyme scheme, phrasing and metre). **
~
~ 2nd Place ~ in the Poetry Soup "Wow Me" Poetry Contest, Nina Parmenter, Judge & Sponsor.