Long Down(a) Poems
Long Down(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long Down(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Down(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
Written November 18, 2013
I'm a postmodernist in an existential environment
Wondering what to do with nothing
What's the meaning of life?
To be swallowed up by entropy
Imploding what it means to be alive
Watch it rain down a marvelous parade
Of lights and sounds of what surrounds
To celebrate a Pound of Pynchon's pithy
Two words one line
No meaning at all
Canvases as bare as the backs of bureaucrats
Filling in the footsteps of giants
Going toe to toe with Pynchon
Feeling fists that Pound
But it's too bad
Got knocked out in the first round
So as gravity pulls me down
And rainbows surround
Take me out by the crying lot
Hang me by the tree that forgives
Along the sidewalk that never ends
Almost Gone Forever
I thought she was secure inside her cage,
as I departed from the shelter and
was walking the short block back to my car,
when all at once the door flung wide and she
jumped to the sidewalk, scampering away!
I rain so quickly, but she disappeared
right near the curb into a storm drain there;
my heart was broken...suddenly, she's gone.
Some passersby had heard my anguished sobs,
as helplessness took hold with no way out.
Quick on my knees, I vainly called her name
not even knowing how far down she was.
Poor thing was orphaned, never had a home,
and I had fallen for her big green eyes
and soft, full fur of charcoal gray and white,
well-patterned...such a lovely tabby cat.
A firehouse was right across the street,
and suddenly two men were at my side.
They quickly knelt to lift the iron grate;
one laying on his stomach pulled her out.
So much had happened in so short a time...
I found a dear, sweet kitty to bring home,
then lost her in a storm drain down the street...
a fireman rescued her...and my sad heart.
March 6, 2019
Contest: Down A Storm Drain - Gone Forever
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Fiction For Contest
My hero to me, was just a simple man
He was ill throughout his life, but he raised two sons
Two jobs he held down until he couldn't anymore
Then fate took it's turn, and turned his heart sore
First was the youngest, on a broken bottle he fell
His artery slashed, was the start of his hell
I recovered from my trauma, nearly losing my life
But my accident increased, his ill health into strife
Over the next two years he was hospitalised
His sons fostered out, in fatherless cries
To children's homes they went, from pillar to post
Yearning for the person, who loved them the most
He gradually recovered, we became a family again
Once again fate took it's turn, returning life's pain
On a Monday night back in nineteen sixty nine
What every parent dreads, returned him to ill health decline
His two boys excited, joining the local Boy's Brigade
Running as fast as they could, for time to be made
The older was faster, he ran well ahead
The younger lagging behind, his little legs so delayed
On turning the corner, all I could see
Was my older brother, running well ahead of me
Without looking left or right, onto the street he ran
A split second later, he was hit by a van
My life entered slow motion, whilst I witnessed it all
To see your brother knocked down, a sibling to fall
He was caught under the van and dragged down the street
At seven years old, too terrified to greet
Over the next six years, his heath gradually became worse
He was more in hospital, in illness immersed
That's why he is my hero, to my lost brother and me
He's the kind of man that I've turned out to be
He had no quality of life, but what he gave meant more
The love for his two boys all through his life's sores
Holding down two jobs through illness and strife
Admirable, that's just a word, he gave me my life
My entry for Crystal Wilkins contest 'My Hero'
On a walk in a park near our house the other day…just as the sun was beginning to shine
we noticed…under the forest hammock…An orange tree growing among the pines.
“How did you get here?” We asked the orange tree.
“Because seeing an orange tree in this forest is quite rare.”
The orange tree bent over, smiled at us and said,
“How does anyone get anywhere?”
“But wouldn’t you rather be among other trees like you?” We asked.
The orange tree looked a little displeased.
“It is only you humans who give us different names.” She said.
“To us…we’re all just trees.”
“It is our hope that one day when humans look into the forest
you too will be able to see.
In spite of the differences in our appearance…every tree is just a tree.”
“We’re all rooted to the Earth and to each other.
Although we may have different uses, come in different sizes, shapes and forms
We all share the same air, sunlight and rain…
and we help each other through the storms.”
And all of a sudden…out of the blue…with a winter breeze’s prodding
the tops of every tree began to sway…as if they all were nodding!
We smiled humbly as we walked on…sending our thanks out to every tree
for turning what started out as a walk down a forest path
into a lesson in tree philosophy.
The wisdom of the trees along with the sun that morning shined…
all because we happened upon one orange tree growing among the pines.
Have you ever seen a grizzly... bare?
And told him to put on some clothes
I did that once, but it must have upset him
Because he reared back on his toes
Well this guy's no freaking big hero
So I started to take off like a shot
But before I could, he grabs me and says
“I'm your friend... like it or not!”
Mr. Grizzly must surely have noticed
Sweat pouring down from my brow
He started to laugh like big bears do
Scared the poop out of me... holy cow!
As he held me, I calmed down a little bit
He seemed like a friendly old chap
But those teeth of his were really sharp
He was drooling from his cavernous yap
He really seemed like a kindly old soul
Neither nasty, nor scary, nor mean
I asked if he'd like to come home for honey
But insisted he put on some jeans
The reason was cause of my kiddies I told him
Not nice to go showing your parts
It's just a matter of common decency
Wanted to get that straight from the start
So off we go, Mr. Grizzly and me
I'm feeling warm and fuzzy all over
Another new friend to share some laughs
Along with my old dog Rover
© Jack Ellison 2015
Spatial wanderings, an assembly of yogis and meditators
they breathe as silently as the moon when it taps out
her morse code then quiets into position.
Watching the stars as they shape into view
they become as connected as the constellation, dot to dot they thrive,
recognizing one another by the quizzical movements of each soul.
Illumined by aerial thoughts they become cloaks of light
streaming down a rite of passage as unique as their un-cloned,
celestial bodies.
Layer upon layer of awareness and enlightenment
we sediments of earth are nothing more than flimsy kites in the wind.
After we have closed eyes and filled our hungry hearts, we are ready
to re-enter and live inside this malleable encrusted place
we call earth.
December 4, 2022
JILL WILL
Jill was fat and could eat no lean
Her husband Jack, was opposite
In the sea, she could float
And once capsized a boat
So was told just slim down a bit
She also had a kid named Jack
And Jill was a cook and a mum
But sometimes was worried
When meals were hurried
Fearing he’d choke on a plum
Jill carried some extra weight
And unlike Jack, she was slow
She wasn’t that quick
Often missing a trick
He was much nimbler, you know
One time, they went up the hill
Together, but at a slow pace
She stumbled and fell
It really hurt like hell
And got mud all over her face
But at least Jill was also famous
Both featured in nursery rhymes
Slightly fatter than him
But was pictured as slim
As is the fashion in these times
The edge of town arrives quickly, one last suburban tract,
one last inflatable swimming pool then a blue wash of sky
surfs over the blacktop.
There are many left turns ahead, but when you discover
a beat-up clapperboard hanging over cotton brush
you’ll know you have attained warp speed.
Keep left, turn down a hollow crick road where pent-up
pockets of sunlight bud in the thickets, keep on
until you see ahead the land leaking into the Mississippi.
No matter how many times you take this drive
you‘ll feel that you have only just now escaped
a story that will always end right here.
What secrets lurk in my mind,
What forces torment my soul?
Secrets of some sinister kind,
Forces of evil eyes, black as coal!
I can sense your pounding heart
And smell the sweat of your fear,
Lo! I say so in truth from the start
So you are forewarned, be clear.
I thirst for blood, warm and red
And a virgin's heart I wildly desire,
If you read any further you'll be led
down a path to the pit of fiery fire.
I cast diabolical spells with words
to lure you into a satanic ritual,
I use no knives, arrows or swords,
It's purely carnal and not spiritual.
Do not read this poem twice
It will trigger invocation to a spirit
And turn your warm blood into ice
And let me your soul to inherit.
For I have made a pact with the Devil,
I am offered worldly wealth and power
To lead you down the dire path of evil
And with your blood my soul to scour!
~"Tales from the Dark Side" contest by Kelly Deschler
I have this pair of overalls I bought in 1988…when to our cabin I first arrived
back then the overalls were new and I was 35.
When these overalls were young boy did they work hard
all around the cabin…in the driveway…in the yard.
They could work for hours with a sickle, hoe or rake…
work for an entire day without a rest…without taking a break.
But I’ve noticed something in recent years…
something I know my overalls don’t want to admit
In the 35 years I’ve owned them…they have slowed down a bit.
They seem to need more breaks…they don’t work near as hard…
they now only last an hour our two…in the driveway or the yard,.
I guess it was inevitable and the truth must now be told…
in the 35 years since I purchased them…my overalls have grown old.
But since they’ve been so good to me for so long…I won’t let them know…I know…
and when I put them on…I am happy to let them work a little slow.
To let them work at their own pace…and as you may have guessed….
to let them take as many breaks as they might need…to let them take a rest.
There is no need to buy new overalls…these old ones work just fine
only now the way we work together has, for us, been redefined….
I’ve learned a lot from these old overalls…and the stories they have to tell.
I only hope I’m treated with the same respect when I grow old as well.
They’re now washed and put away…this year we didn’t quite finish the lawn….
but that’s okay…we’ll get it finished…the next time I put them on.