Long Cummings Poems
Long Cummings Poems. Below are the most popular long Cummings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cummings poems by poem length and keyword.
Don Pardo: Born: 1918-02-22 - Died: 2014-08-18
He’s been gone from SNL
We heard he wasn’t feeling all that well
Don Pardo’s number came around
The Lord was calling “Come on down”
Lauren Bacall: Born: 1924-09-16 - Died: 2014-08-12
Finally the sound Bacall longed to hear
I guess Bogie learned how to whistle this year
Robin Williams: Born:1951-7-21-Died: 2014-8-11
Robin you kept us in stitches
Of comic minds yours had the riches
If your mind had a filter
It was always off kilter
Your death was the greatest of glitches
Richard Kiel: Born: 1939-8-13-Died: 2014-8-10
Richard Kiel was the great villain Jaws
A man with a few minor flaws
He stood seven foot two
And you knew, you just knew
As a bad guy he’d win our applause
James Garner: Born:1928/4/7 - Died: 2014/7/19
We watched him in The Rockford Files
Victor Victoria brought us all smiles
And the great Maverick, Bret
Who could ever forget
James Garner was nothing but style
Johnny Winter: Born:944/2/23- Died: 2014/7/16
Johnny Winter, as thin as a splinter
And white as the fallen snow
He kept us amused
As he played the blues
Till it was his time to go
Tommy Ramone:Born:1949/1/29 Died: 2014/7/11
Tommy Ramone didn’t play the trombone
But he was a drummer of note
He played with his brothers
And never no others
For Hall of Fame, he got my vote
Casey Kasem: Born:1932/4/27 Died: 2014/6/15
Casey Kasem they treated you wrong
Stole your body, we looked, it was gone
Fighting for your estate
Until you were “the late”
Your passing would make a sad song
Ruby Dee: Born: 1922-10-27 - Died: 2014-06-11
Ruby Dee how can it be
An actress of your worth
With awards galore
You should have won more
Before you were yanked from this earth
Ann B. Davis: Born:1926/5/5-Died: 2014/6/1
Here's the story of a lovely lady
Who always played a great supporting soul.
Schultzy with the late great Robert Cummings
In the Brady bunch, old Alice was her role.
Till the one day when the lady met her maker
And we knew it was much more than a cold,
Ann B. Davis’s career has finally ended
And that makes some of us feel too damn old
Bob Hoskins: Born: 1942/10/26-Died:2014/4/29
Bob was an actor, a man with a face
That only a mother’s love could embrace
And in spite of that face, he became a great star
Bob Hoskins we’ll miss you wherever you are
Artfully dodging explosive solutions
pretending shackles restrained prisoner
lobbed pseudo Molotov cocktails
kindly, loosely, and mutinously linkedin
liberal short (make believe) chain
leashed faux abysmal isolated confinement
former courtly poet,
who consumed prison fare
equalling bread and thin gruel
poetical, quizzical, and rational thinking
wrought eventual gladness!
Meanwhile elsewhere within
another complex edifice
Stormy (Daniels) reign
came and went
accompanying barren
cruel don, trumpeting
issuing expansion fiat
wielding, gesticulating, brandishing...
ironclad golf club spouting art of the deal,
whereby might versus right
simultaneously Putin on the ritz
song and dance routine
crooning Ivana mock up Earth,
especially figurative roasting statesman christened
Elijah Cummings, an American politician
and civil rights advocate who served
in United States House of Representatives
for Maryland's 7th congressional district
from 1996 until his death in 2019.
That oversized ego freezer
with pouffed hair,
who shall not be named
made abominable destiny manifest
regarding eminent domain
dominion, he forcibly
relocated natives to Cajun shelters
charging them admission fees
manumission granted serving
white supremacist conveniently optioning
kids as scapegoats
re: Deferred Action for
Childhood Arrivals (DACA)
labor away migrants
grunts passive pluperfect targets
no matter forbears indigenous
to America unfortunately
been man-date to bite bullet
within badlands of El Paso
meanwhile oblivious hermit aging
barnacle encrusted manacles
absorbing cumulative dampness
no longer granting resistance
to life nor limb
timely manumission lovely bones restored
swallowed potion frothing colorful brew
contrived exquisite firearms.
Ah redeemed character
(any resemblance between
initially mentioned unfortunate soul
and living persons purely coincidental)
mentioned at outset of poem
broached out Alcatraz replica
free and clear fresh air revived
fifty shades of gray
immediately sieged moment
weakly hollered carpe diem
elixir imbued immunity
against taken hostage at gunpoint
freedmen impressed into service
while waved magic wand
whereby enslaved women
retaliated hashtagged misogynistic
took appropriate revenge
as apprenticed warrioresses!
It is like a drunk
or addict reaching that 'so called' stopping off point. That point
where one can't imagine life with or without the fix. Writing is like that.
Obsessive, progressive, addictive. A fix. Scribes need it to 'feed the rat.'
Recently I have felt
overwhelmed reading all of the BFAs and MFAs out there, being at most an
amateur ham and egger myself. Writers all strive arduously to organize words
into some form or message that people enjoy. That touches them. That they
identify with.
I've dreamt of hearing,
"Ahh, your words meant so much to me!" And, immediately I fall into
delusional dreams of people swooning. This helplessly addicted novice would
be left to wallow, pro tempore, in the juices of their nouveau riche, yet
auspicious skills? It is simply not like that though, people!
Most of the time
writing is line by line, meter by meter, and word beside word. Then edit,
clip, and rewrite. And all of that to be a novice 'ham and egger.'
Look at
E.E. Cummings, James Agee, Carl Sandburg, Ernest Dowson, Gana Gioia.
All of them capable of writing something complete, abiding, and significant
in less than sixty words.
So significant that
one can return to read and reflect upon the words all the years of a life.
No chance of my ever
writing something compelling like one of those guys? Maybe, I could channel
an inner Dylan Thomas? Perhaps, if I touched the oxfords of Dr. Seuss?
Now, there is a good plan! That Sam I Am, That Sam I Am,
I do not like that Sam..............E-I-E-I-O!
Perhaps, if I had voted for Barack Obama I would be
more sensitive and artistic? All muses, artists, and
sensitive people vote Democratic, don't they? ---
Yes, that's it! If I change my voter registration I'll suddenly
awake one day with all of the angst and existentialist ardor
of Sartre or Dostoyevsky!...........................****, not a chance.
A better strategy might be
to write poetry for all of the right reasons. It is very much worthwhile
expression and communication in our age. It is an accomplishment if
even a handful of people every read the words. Poetry is still important
today. Its benefits enable the author to 'dig the well' of their life experience
deeper with every topic completed.
The words are there. All one has to do is gather them fearlessly!
P S ITS POETRY WRITE ON WRITE ON CONGRATS TO MY FELLOW POETRY SOUPERS PART 12
This anthology is a collection of the work of various poets from all over the world. By reading these diverse works, we hope that people will become more understanding, compassionate, and empathetic towards all people Founded in February of 2005 PoetrySoup Internet Poetry resource and community. Encourages the writing of poetry through community involvement and support. This Free online poetry of professional and amateur poets
Of sharing your whispers from God,
tho you didn’t know it;
Each letters and each word;
Reads so very dear and well; Joys of your souls cheers; Covenants of choice, reading your voice; Blessing peace be still; Please keep writing your skills; Rhyming verses blessings of course it’s… P.S. Congrats and thank-U my fellow Soupers
• Joselito B. Asperin 330
• Joseph C Ogbonna 457
• Joseph Mugo 408
• Joseph Spence Sr 119, 145
• Joseph Szalinski 353
• Joyce Johnson 222, 36
• Judy Bagwell 147, 160, 341
• Julia A. Keirns 254, 435
• Julie Little 316
• Kaa Na Kalyanasundaram 383
• Kate Copeland 299
• Katharine L. Sparrow 171
• Keith Trestrail 212, 214, 412
• Kelley Snyder 246
• Kelli White 110, 113, 193
• Kelly Deschler 50
• Ken Duddle 213, 323
• Kenneth Cheney 285
• Kenyugi Kent 442
• Kevin Cummings 209, 324
• Khalid Albudoor 166
• Khashayar Salehi Nobandegani 463
• Kim Edward Morrison 136, 90
• Kim Marie Rodrigues 113, 247
• Kim Robin Edwards 242
• Kimberly A Sikorski 315
• Kimberly J Merryman 180, 268, 87
• Kinsey Adriano 454
• Kudzai Mhangwa 439
12/15/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
UPROOTED
“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.”--------------------Rumi
listen not to the vagrant zephyr
seeking only sustenance of its kind
idol thinkers lolling in innocence
swayed by every whispering sigh
unaware – that secrets lie.
“We put the urn aboard ship.”---------------------------------------Sappho
Single struggling sapling
scented with the longings of leaving,
kissed by the roots of a family’s tree
adrift on a sea of doubt
holding true to its native soil.
“Wherever I am, the world comes to me.”-----------------------Mary Oliver
An ocean lapping at the shores of time’s fleeting gusts
enticing us to come aboard, sail her winds
dance the song of the gentle rains
shelter in her wooded arms and cliffs
wait as her horizon’s greet my welcome.
“the moon is a curving flower of gold.”---------------------------Sara Teasdale
grinning in the pilfered beauty of sunlight
stolen from beyond earth’s curving crust
hanging its crescent hook for lover’s
to ponder in the midst of loving’s lust
petals falling in the path of daybreaks rush.
“I like my body when it is with your”…memory-------------------e.e. cummings
tingling with the cold salt spray of
breakers overpowering the sand
softly kissing the edges ……frothily spent
bubbling beneath the screech of gulls
nestled into the arms of home
“the apparition of these faces in the crowd”-------------------------Ezra Pound
vague faces of unknown forebears
yellowing in time’s smoky rooms
stern faces seeking a future
young faces – now grown old
dancing on the branches of a tree.
“The tree is here, still, in pure stone” ----------------------------------Pablo Neruda
troubled roots strengthened by hardship
searching life’s invisible pathways
meeting pressure with practiced patience
offering shade, and presence
touching granite’s hardened heart.
John G. Lawless
7/24/2015
“Wherever I am, the world comes to me.” Mary Oliver
“the apparition of these faces in the crowd.” Ezra Pound
”I like my body when it is with your….” e.e. cummings
“The tree is here, still, in pure stone,” Pablo Neruda
“We put the urn aboard ship.” Sappho
“the moon is a curving flower of gold.” Sara Teasdale
“the breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.” Rumi
"(I carry you with me) where I go you go."
Quote - E.E. Cummings
when mom passed away I was broken, shattered
as she was the most important person in my life
we shared an incredible bond
I lost my best friend, my mom, my anchor and rock
and have been floating and drifting since
and the clock of time has rolled
but as I dreamt of us last night mom came to me
as a vision mystical and spiritual
weeping, I whispered
I have things to tell you mom small and big things
mom, firstly you are a great-grandma
as God has sent us a baby girl
oh, this angel has brought our family so much joy
but, I am haunted mom . . .
I am so sorry I was not the perfect daughter
that our journey was sometimes rocky
in my early years I was always running away
not realizing the love I sought
I had already . . .
your door was always open
you always kept my room ready (lol)
but the years mellowed me
and I planted my roots
I took care of you as your health failed
until your death
and some days my irritation showed up
I am so sorry . . . but I was alone in your illness
and afraid of the end and unsure
I am haunted by what I said, what I should have said
and what I should have done, can you forgive me, please
still, your last words in this life were "I love you"
what I gift I was given . . .
I should have brought you home to die, I didn't
you made me promise to always have a garden
as gardening was your lifetime joy
and I do mom - a beautiful garden in honor of you
I kept your cat mom and she lived into old age
and died a peaceful death in my arms
I cried for days, it was like losing you all over again
she seemed to be my last link to you
perhaps, she is with you in heaven's garden, I hope so
and magically my mom was holding me in her arms
she kissed me and stroked my hair
just like she used to once upon a time
then, she was gone . . .
______________________
September 20, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/I Talked To Mom Last Night
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1489-329-20
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, The Mystical Dream
sponsor, Anoucheka Gangabisson, Judged 10/22/2022
First Place
"i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go...."
-ee cummings
to: jennifer, my loving sister
i’ve never felt a bond so deep (never, forevermore)
nor have i embraced a shoulder so strong;
-strong enough for me-
but within the dark of the darkest night, before the
brightest star was born,
we were born to love (always, forevermore)
and i shall not betray the trust sisters share;
for we ration laughter when rain falls like rain,
and break bread of bounty when rain brings pain-
i fear not the deepest depth,
nor am i weak with you by my side (eternally, forevermore)
i seek not my vices because of your empathy,
hear not the voices whispering echoes of loss-
for you, my sweet sister, have shown me a path to freedom;
(everyday, forevermore)
and in the longest walk I’ve ever walked,
the hardest race i’ve ever faced,
you held my hand with ease and comfort,
and i am at a loss for words-
above the highest skies of all royal skies,
i feel the relief from what was and what is to come-
for our friendship shan’t be severed by distance, nor sent away
toward isles too far to sail;
it is content with calm words spoken without judgement,
only with compassion, sympathy and genuine kindness-
before rarity was rare,
a true bond we did share;
and i’ll tell you something no other person can comprehend,
a secret spreading moondust over valleys - valleys made for
- just us-
you are the magic that holds the stars in the dark ebon sky;
the marvel of the universe and
its muse compare not to you-
i shall show gratitude to God for you...
(i promise…forevermore)
"sisters don't need words...
they have hearts"
November 1, 2019
Writing Challenge, November- Some Kind of Love
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands e.e. cummings
~
________________________________________________
" LV means Love"
contrasting winds which carried particles
of who we used to be
circled and settled. to fold into one
...becoming us...
that you are me...and i am you..
two hearts, one sun, one moon, that built a love
where twists and bends, would melt into one,
where eyes can't see where threads connect;
a solid rock, yet soft as feathers
where I can come to lay my head
and cast away the darkest day, the cruelest night
never will we understand
the shifts and strains of wayward winds
that whirl, and pound on fate's own door
the knowing why is not what counts, what matters deeply more...
is when I reach my hand to touch
this vaporous thing...impossible to define
where mortal words can not explain
nothing to see, nothing to touch,
just the faint breath of us
a dream, not myth....that final sleep cannot erase....
so sure this breath of life we share
is reason enough, that we are here
..............................................................................................................
For Joann's Contest "Copy Cat" My poem inspired by e.e. cummings poem LVII
death is near-
a fading out tomorrow will never be-
gone away an empty shell will dwell
birds and butterflies come fluttering
on gossamer silky wings
wings soft as a spider web
and the curtains stir in the open window
death
comes
like a bird of prey
drifting silently
and hummingbirds hover in heavenly harmony
her
hair
streaming down her shoulders
the clock of time stops the end has come
deep blue is the sky beyond this realm
birds and butterflies come fluttering
on gossamer silky wings
and hummingbirds hover in heavenly harmony
blue birds are twittering in the trees
she breathes
a long breath
pauses
and then
the moment of death a heaviness descends
death comes
like a bird of prey
drifting silently
she hangs
her head like a dead flower the mind dies
a peacefulness a light that fills the room her spirit leaving
and on the bedside
a beautiful bouquet of red roses dulcet full of scent
oh her life was fleeting
infused with happiness beauty laughter
the dream has ended the final curtain has dropped
farewell my beauty I kiss her lips her still warm hand
outside a gentle rain has begun
falling on the weeping willow tree
my weeping tears
dropping soaking her blanket
___________________________
June 26, 2015
Free Verse/"death of a friend"
Copyright Protected, ID 684720
Submitted to the contest, Any Poem You Are Proud Of
Sponsor, Mystic Rose
Second Place
I am proud of this poem because I wrote right after the death of my friend,
she died of cancer and I was with her at the end witnessing it through the eyes
of a poet. It is my most viewed poem and I was able to capture the style
of E.E. Cummings perfectly in my opinion.
__________________________
Submitted to the contest, A poem You Are Proud Of #3
sponsor, Skat
Fifth Place
_____________________________
Submitted to the contest, Death and Dying
sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
Second Place
Being on the team that got
Trump elected.
People treat me as if
I were seriously infected.
For being part of a team,
That shares Trump's
American dream!
Of an America strong and
free of government coercion,
And unwilling to be brainwashed into
Socialistic promises of freebie
diversions.
Trump believes in the Constitution
While others cry, " Restitution"
For what?
President Trump honest
to a fault, add humanity, too.
The Democrats won't give
him a chance are you kidding?
They play him the fool~
Like a drunk at a wedding.
The media burns the midnight
oil,
To broadcast truth?
A joke from which they all recoil.
Their goal of course, to cause national turmoil and poison discourse.
It's like a poisonous snake has
settled on the press.
Acosta, accosting a
presidential aide fighting
over a mike.
Acosta, a bonehead who
lightning should strike.
There should be a book
Published by CNN with
a poison pen...
" How we Destroyed the
USA."
It's not a matter of how, but when.
Worse, Trump and family believe
in God, an unforgivable sin.
Why don't his detractors just drink
a pint of cheap gin.
They can't get over the fact that
Hillary lost, much to their chagrin.
Democrats and Fake News create
new lies,
"Impeachment" always~their battle cry!
Oligarchs, Russia and Wiki-leaks,
Well, my fellow Americans,
Their false fairy tales just plain stink.
So now Nadler and Schiff, two
Sterling men sharpen their knives
Let's go over all the President's taxes
Surely there is something he's hiding.
They can't stand success, these Swamp
Creatures, they!
And Elijah Cummings, their new CPA.
The entire Trump family has been
under attack, children included.
How compassionate, the Democrats are.
Infanticide, included.
These wolves on The Hill!
Whose sole purpose in life is to
Decry all the President's triumphs
And wish him~nothing but ill!
The press stretches truth like a
rubber band,
Shameful despicable lies.
America will survive all of this,
We will remain a Republic.
Will remain free, prosperous and
always stand.
Form: