Long Crevasse Poems
Long Crevasse Poems. Below are the most popular long Crevasse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crevasse poems by poem length and keyword.
We started on a common path,
But not one of our choice.
In time we went our separate ways,
To hear or find our voice,
And so traversed the wilderness
With joys and dangers fraught.
The path I chose, not best or worst,
Just mine, or so I thought.
I did not scale that rocky cliff,
Nor cross that deep crevasse;
I found the briars and the thorns,
And verdant, pleasant grass.
Yet here we’re called to take a rest,
Again, not one we chose.
The way is forward; that is clear,
Yet to where no one knows.
Shall we recount where each has been?
Do bygone ways still matter?
Or shall we share a common time,
Again before we scatter?
How will I know about that scar,
Those flowers in your hair?
Or you about my painful limp,
Those wrinkles there and there?
Come, let us simply rest a while,
Tend sore and calloused feet,
For He alone knows when our paths,
Divergent, wandering, meet.
—————
for the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 12 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written 03/15/2022
!
hell
above
the tree line
man digging in
implanting spikes
deep in your rock skin
chaining with ego's ropes
the mountain fighting back
with ice pick wind and avalanche
sweeping ticks to the dark crevasse
man wants to steal your diamond crown
plant their skull and crossbones in your soul
your wish is to add another bone to the brooch
(W-W-H-W-W-W-H or 1-2-3-4-5-6-7)
I ardor you
with the passion of us
Depending on your values
however most agree
there is nothing more
universally greater than Love
the quiet consistency
or the public showing of
affection and compassion
oh love divine
might I not be spared
that you may make me to be
that we shall love as one
in the greatest feelings
of togetherness
respect and communication
to include compassion as
the essential component
of our togetherness
the context of a relationship
that selfless DeVine love
a connection between you and I
Love oh Love
saturate every crevasse
to have us done and redone
to again be as we were then
that love shall be on going and never
undoned
Love
Love
love
the ongoing emotional connection
of our togetherness
Sounds of the Amargosa Chorus
and Opera Orchestra
" Desrt Food and Song"
a christmas show
Piccola bo cal Music Co.
Desert City Music LLC.
a Groovey Music Company
I can't be your judge nor jury
Cause I ain't got no heaven or hell for ya
for the evil thing you've done to that little child
Despicable
You violate a sacred trust
You're child abuser
You point the blame and shame
I am sick of you
Despicable
On any one but your self
You manipulate and touch the crevasse
Blaming it on drugs, alcohol
Such a fool
Despicable
No name, no guilt, no shame
Your choice you perverted
Your not worthy
But God loves you
Despicable
for the evil thing you've done to that little child
Cause I ain't got no heaven or hell for ya
Easy says easy was to be forgiven it's God love
But how can the child forgive and love
When they've been touched, my God molested
You violate a sacred trust
You're child abuser
You point the blame and shame
I pray for the victim and you,
Despicable
5/3/10
by James Edward Lee Sr.
Mother is one tear away from heaven
Oceans cry, rivers flow to take her home
Pain fills in every crevasse of life
The arching sky folds fast in blue
Like a woven shawl around humanity
That falls forever covering her children
With love to ease the constant rush
Waves crash, rocks collapse our spirits
Mother lifts and holds us in her arms
Above the storm with calm
Warm thoughts and charm
Wishes flow like milk and honey
Kisses draw us near when mother's here
Every day is Christmas
A shield of colored lights
Created by her constant love
Mother's Day is one day in all eternity
In mother's company time is timeless
beauty,
not the cherished gift
fated to be ravaged
by father time,
but the enduring kind
the naked eyes cannot see.
the beauty that resides
deep within the crevasse
of the soul
and shines out
like rays of the sun,
exploding like a supernova,
now and then;
that's the kind of beauty
that age can never diminish.
inward beauty
matters infinitely more
for it is so true, and lives on
beyond
the span of a lifetime.
Date written: 05/03/2023
Chasing this into that, chasing that into this.
Chasing silhouettes into a half-assed crevasse.
Echoing, "Boy, what is your purpose on this good earth?"
Poking the dark for a piece of velvet, a note from a harp.
A claw pokes at the skin of the soul.
A change of direction is needed again... pronto.
Mamma was right. Nothing good comes out of the dark.
Eating the light like a greasy moth.
Pitting parched lips against brightness.
Just another false prophet holding an empty Bic pen.
In the cul-de-sac of middle-class wish.
At least it was an honest attempt to find a grain of meaning.
In the dusk of my breath, the same silhouette yaps...
"Man, what is your purpose on this planet"?
I used to love to pick my nose.
After 3,
Better than playing with my toes.
With a nose you see,
Each little crevasse has a surprise for me!
A goober,
A booger.
Nothing I would find amiss.
Cleanest nose in town,
Until Momma was around.
Momma said, "Don't pick your nose,
You might get it on my hose!
There are not gold doubloons in there,
Just goobers and boogers.
Perhaps a bit of hair."
But that's the whole point!
My boogers and goobers,
Are my snacks at night!
Mommas in bed.
It's dark,
No one will see.
Just me and my nose,
Boogers and goobers are free!
On edge of crevasse
splitting the whole from broken
I waver between—
weaving to escape phantoms
longing for where I belong
I mask all my scars,
with smiles etched on hollow masks
yet memory bleeds
too whole to join the broken
too fractured to pass as whole
To love life anew
to re-forge and re-ignite
requires confession
to those entrenched in shadows
that death now terrifies me
On the mended line
I'm spurned by the ones I left
unclaimed by the rest
scars reverberate the past
with no guide to where to go
Now my mends can shine
cracks repaired with molten gold
clearly on display
showing what's been can become
unashamedly mended
Silly Seasons
When Frosty blows in
and kissess the wind
it nips at my cheeks
red n rosey.
My shiny nose froze,
I can't feel my toes,
I'd rather be home
warm and cozy.
Skiing down hills for
giggles and thrills,
I might just break
my little nosey.
Wintery dispIays,
of yesteryear days
ashes and pockets
full of posies.
Ice smooth as glass,
fall on your crevasse.
No more words that
rhyme with thosies.
When the sun swings high
mugging the sky,
the sultry air makes me
sweat n' stinky.
The rays beating down,
roasting my crown,
turning my thoughts
dinky rinky.
Sun-block O'clock,
peeling and pain.
Back slaps turning
pale skin into pinkie.
Beachfront, riverside
no where to hide.
Inside with an ice-cold
drinky.
Ice cream melting,
swamp ass sweltering.
Warm drink, fishy stink,
stale old Twinkie.
Autumn and Vern
know how to discern
not too hot and
not to chilly
Leaves abound, then
fall to the ground
Bob Ross becomes
Wooly Willie
It's not too loud.
avoiding the crowd.
who run around all
Piccadilly.
Colors abound when
new life comes round.
Hues burn when it turns
Chilly Willy.
I hope you had fun,
and giggled some,
I find the whole
thing rather silly.