Long Daylong Poems
Long Daylong Poems. Below are the most popular long Daylong by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Daylong poems by poem length and keyword.
A man had two horses, each a fine stallion, both buddies and good friends. It so happened, one of them lost eyesight in an accident. For the safety of the blind horse, the owner fixed some copper bells on the neck of the other horse. The blind horse would then follow the one with good eyesight, who would keep a kindly eye on the blind one. The blind one would keep its ears hooked on to the other. A rare friendship of the two horses, that of the eyes and ears. By evening they would return home safe after daylong grazing. One followed the sound, the other sight, both looking after the other.
Does not Existence look after us in the same way? Its immense compassion helps sustain humanity…. with no mean help from some sense of brotherhood among us, of course.
___________________________________
The thinking head shoring up kindly heart,
The rich on their part parting wealth in part,
On mutual help moves on Existence cart.
Behind the frightened and never so few,
Weapons of brave shine with buttressing hue,
And Existence blesses from unknown blue.
Behind heavenly hearts gears up the grave,
Two sides of coin as if each to each crave,
Existence’s onward journey to pave!
For lifelong one looks after the other,
Life’s scorching sun together to weather,
Mother to offspring, brother to brother!
To the way-lost in this life’s long journey,
Holding hands in care, to accompany,
Share whatso meagre food with the hungry.
Life’s a journey together in a boat,
In deep river, or dour sea set afloat,
And Existence renders a warm fur coat.
It lets an anchor, a needle to north,
Lets mankind to reach to its highest worth,
And so-how Existence moves on and forth.
Or else, what good is one’s kissing the crest?
Man moves forward, mighty heave to highest,
Humanity whilst falls more than modest.
______________________________________
Introspection |04.01.2022|
A Solitary Stranger
Lonely a soul, he, waits there daylong, a lonely stranger, he
To knit the finest webs of dreams, one of the most delicate kinds.
Gazing, out there, with brimming eyes he ponders
To catch a glimpse of the sun seeping through the windowpane
Lonely a soul, he, waits there daylong, a lonely stranger, he
To knit the finest webs of dreams, one of the most delicate kinds.
Gazing, out there, with brimming eyes he ponders
To catch a glimpse of the sun seeping through the windowpane
The croons of his leisure time runs high through the seven seas,
As a hymn, rises to heaven and above, one, perhaps, eager to linger more…
Brushstrokes of canvas, dazzling horses of the clouds, in a resilient morn..
Open your eyes , and you will believe the happening world, in a fable, unborn.
Lonely a soul, he, waits there daylong, a lonely stranger, he
Cotton candy dreams, where in production, are in muse, those dreams!
Those old aged clouds are all in a classic silence, piled up high,
Rain will be coming soon!
Lonely a soul, he, waits there daylong, a lonely stranger, he
Cotton candy dreams, where in production, are in muse, those dreams!
Those old aged clouds are all in a classic silence, piled up high,
Rain will be coming soon!
Those croons are floating with the strongest rainfall , great news!
Where it drizzled through the lintel for yet , an hour more.
Rain-soaked an hour are chilling with gone hours, as ours,
A dead wet soul now, is he, posing in my mind!
Those croons are floating with the strongest rainfall , great news!
Where it drizzled through the lintel for yet , an hour more.
Rain-soaked an hour are chilling with gone hours, as ours,
A dead wet soul now, is he, posing in my mind!
The sun danced on lightened leaves, my muse aligned, in zeal
Greenery of palms with the windy tantrum, touched me , still
The tribal walkway and the rural patsy rushing for more, in pace
The village girl sitting on mud, with her lonely bouquet of grace
Looking ahead, felt a perceiving truth of my tambourine sparrow
This is my charming flute, assonance and refrain, flying o’er meadow
Sounding clay and a subtle may, greets my soul , a humble solo
The clear blue sky lit up a sun danced cry, quenching of the thirsty new ones, a mellow
These boys and their gaze, an amazing delight my pondering eyes adored
My tambourine arose with their morning flight of youngster voices, a chord
Refrain and my troubadour o float afar , a homebound, must it be, so shall !
The village sky and the golden hue a beckoning once again to me to prevail
Unyielding nearby clues, honeysuckle muse, no more of a voyage to avail
Of all these , the aimless riddles, unresolved mystic , a wait to receive
Unsung these songs of mundane repertoire,incomplete till today, inconclusive
My muse and my enchanted clues, my daylong a soothe, my song, singing cadence
My daylong zeal had no toil, no more of hard chore sweating, a bypassing hence
My mind, my eyes, my apparent plethora in calling back to do well
They are ambitious, in optimism, let them gather their own stack , to gather and feel afresh
I will be a mere passer by lull there, immature a cupid try passing up close , eternally a grace.
Ei To Bhalo Legechilo- Sahana I Aditi I Damayanti I Basabdutta I Samantak I Rabindrasangeet
Here we are
come ~ bring it
in the morning
at noon
and in the evening
and if time permits you
and your legs could walk you
in the small hours of the night
like one, or two, or three
Here is our dwell
the comforts of all daylong
the market that markets us to feed
Here are our hands
stretch in front of us
awiting you to drop your lacks
You want progress?
You want to ward off evil spirit?
and many more deep down your mind
We are the needy
always at-alert to take your lacks
to mollify our lacks
Come ~ bring it
Ayetoro is our dwell
Be in the raining
we never retreat
rather, we stand and recline our back
on the wall, faces the road
fiddle palms to the merciful lord
who created you and us
Disequilibrium
to take off the barbaric rain
which falls on the young
with no respects for the old
and infuses us pleasant cold
and we shiver like leaves on the stream
although we are one with it
Be in the dry
we never retreat from the endless sun
that burns the skin like igniting fire
our bodies are the junction of dust
although we are one with it
We love and we become one
so we increase as the day moves on
with hope that our posterity
would write a new story
Ayetoro (peaceful life) is a well known street in Osogbo, capital city of Osun State Nigeria.
When it goes wrong
It all goes wrong
All daylong
This morning I walked outside
And left my umbrella sitting on the door stool
The appetite of mid day fool
Wading through the stormy weather
Tissues beneath my chin
What has put me in such a goodbye mood
Every now and then it all goes wrong
And even when it’s not your day
It seems to last a days life long
And when it goes wrong
It all goes wrong
I dropped my feathered quill to the ground
How I Wish I could sit at home and lounge
I guess you can say my attitudes a day behind
Looking at subway but there’s such a long line
And you can’t walk because the sign says “yield”
It’s raining under my cloud, I can only stand still
Every now and then it all goes wrong
And even when it’s not your day
It seems to last a days life long
And when it goes wrong
It all goes wrong
Sorry if I couldn’t make you smile
Sorry if you smiled and I didn’t smile back
Sorry if you whispered and I couldn’t feel your touch
Sorry if you touched me and I ignored your whisper
Sorry’s not enough when there’s so much I could do
Sorry I never made it back to you
Every now and then it all goes wrong
And even when it’s not your day
It seems to last a days life long
And when it goes wrong
It all goes wrong
No body killed me, in our lives of Odyssey
No body killed me, in our lives of Odyssey - they are no longer to be seen
There are crows in abundance around this balcony- yet, the tired one I knew when Life began
No more- many years before there was a flock of those among plethora of mangoes and plums
Crows to be seen, daylong, throughout, those memory lanes of childhood, serene
Those days are gone by, this world will not remember those days, anymore
Early dawn still to be in blossoming morn, and the bird chirping from the tree branch
Still this day, I am caught up in amazing zeal, rumination
The thought of this occupies me , only this. Where could the old soul be? What could happen?
The river , inundated field, meadow , grass, those are all gone as time took those with. There.
That day, that night, those droplets on hair, after the shower, soggy wet hands
About those trees and fruits and snails and all about those young palms
Those soaked sands, flower adored rural path, steamingly hot bowl of rice
Where all of those gone?- Innumerable numbers crows are noisy soaring high in the sky
Early morning, harvesting morning of today , with a heavy heart and heartache, unknown.
*Image of Indiana History by Giphy.
Autumn Awakes
Rustling ochre, crimson leaves all daylong,
A coolness settles, shorter days advanced,
Easterlies, westerlies, tradewinds strong,
Southward birds fly, so parts summer birdsong,
Mid leaves lay spiked beech, acorn--care enhanced,
Rustling ochre, crimson leaves all daylong,
Sweetness in brambles flourished berries throng,
Black, elder, wild rasp--touched tastebuds danced,
Easterlies, westerlies, tradewinds strong,
Favored spots, here and there, all lists are long,
'Tis time hearts invent for landscape has entranced,
Rustling ochre, crimson leaves all daylong,
Deep verdant Ivy becomes, draped headlong,
Few flowers blooms hugged flown insects instanced,
Easterlies, westerlies, tradewinds strong,
Harvested tabled, prayers blessed belong,
Autumn picturesque, surroundings felt...glanced,
Rustling ochre, crimson leaves all daylong,
Easterlies, westerlies, tradewinds strong.
2020 August 21
*7th Place*
Serenity Awakened
~~Regina McIntosh: Judged 2020 August 27
*1st Place*
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (20)any form any theme
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2020 August 03
The rye mustard field, glowing with a morning diva, faded in colors within afternoon
The river runs just beside ;
“O reverie! What shall the song be in the chanting verse, unsung in me and thee!”
The branches of the oak tree , trace upon chest of yours, whence
The tree shade adores you in blue
Patsy sounds in farther and farther a try, follow through
These for having an echo in those stalking sounds, whence together , sounds cry
Was there ever a river meandering nearby?
“O reverie! What shall the song be in the chanting verse, unsung in me and thee!”
You , my soulmate, a fall to befall in shape, mine to undermine
The farther I run away to shy - you trace me back there with your toddler efforts to intertwine
I hear your foamy shore, sounds of me with my child, daylong, a silly whim to be around awhile
Enchantance overflowing with eloquence (seemingly so)
Eloquence and ongoing eloquence never a bit tiresome
This very river
A flock of fishes rainbow colors on the river chest
The herd of flamingo , white lilies the remotest oasis around the deepest river basin
Men did not intervene, as these, are never to be seen.
Almost evening.
The smell of seaweed hanging
on whispers coming up from the beach.
I sit in the backyard, rearranging thoughts,
trying to fit shapes into what's missing
in that vast mosaic I have been piecing
together all my life. The last blush
of the sun fading from the sky, the day
dimming like a picture theater
before the film begins.
I think of the Alberton Odeon matinees,
back stall seats on Saturday afternoons
with wall to wall westerns galloping across
childhood to deafening cheers and stamping feet.
From Hoppalong to Roy, a generation
breathed the smoke from six shooters
blasting out in the black and white world
of cowboys and trusty steeds.
Heroes stood out for their good deeds,
the bad deserving of the bullet
that always found their evil hearts
without the spill of blood. Death was clean,
no more than a crumpled fall,
hands clutching an invisible wound.
The gore was kept off screen. Boyhood
backyards became extensions of motion
picture sets.
I come back. Shadows have swelled
into a thick dark. Awoken from their
daylong sleep, mosquitoes circle my head
like thought clouds in search of blood.
Sebun Nihonjin Okoku no Senso (War of the Seven Japanese Kingdoms):
Sebun utukushi okoku wa, senso o sengen shimasu (Seven Beautiful Kingdoms Declare War), Heishi no su sen-ri ga senjo ni ran’nyu shimasu (Thousands of soldiers storm onto the battlefield), 7 Shido-sha-tachi wa, kareka no buki o kakimasu (seven leaders draw their weapons). Karera wa Juden to shite densentu-tekina tatakai ga hajimarimasu! (the legendary battle begins as they charge!) Shototsu! Buki wa hokia ni shototsu shimasu. (Clash! Weapons strike against another.)
Toshi~Tsu ga gokaku shi, sora ga kuraidesu. (years pass, and the sky is dark) Sora Kara kaminari kurakku, (thunder cracks from the sky) Doragon ga Tobu yo ni toboe o kite imasu! (Howls are heard as dragons fly down!)
Kareka wa sugu ni modotte heiwa o nattoku sa semasu. (they quickly conivnce peace back.) Seijo ni tochi to sora ritan, (the lands and sky return to normal,) Okoku wa heiwa ni modorimasu. (the kingdoms return to peace.) Hitobito wa hinemosu pati de iwaimasu! (the people celebrate with a daylong party!) Ryu wa futatabi ie ni tobimasu. (the dragons fly home again.)
Owari. (End.)