Long Draw back Poems
Long Draw back Poems. Below are the most popular long Draw back by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Draw back poems by poem length and keyword.
A most strange creature walked into the room
upright on two legs he stood oh so very tall
dressed in fine array booted and suited
a hat perched jauntily on his head
He cast around the room eyeing people up
as he strutted back and forth leaving in his wake
a deep silence of disbelief as the folks all stared
and started to draw back as they saw his tail
Not a person was this uninvited guest
no even though dressed as a man
he was a ferocious gorilla in love
seeking out his Jane he hunted around
Not finding her he stood confused
gaping at the people in their finery
come on now said his keeper catching up
and he lead him back to his cage
The gorilla sits there tear running down his face
lost without his Jane he sits in desolation
she had passed away only 5 months ago
now he hunts for her whenever he can
His keeper has tried to jolly him along
even introducing a young lady or two
met with indifferent then ignored
he only want his true love Jane
The despicable fly thinks he is tall
Because he landed so high on the wall
But I’m about to show him just how small
He truly is when I make him fall
All because of a fly on the wall.
With a paper rolled tight with a band
Held firm in my good right hand,
I’ll send that dirty fly to the promised land —
The end of said fly will be so grand.
All because of a fly on the wall.
I draw back, then let it go,
Delivering the most powerful blow.
That nasty fly just has to go —
But alas, there’s nothing to show.
All because of a fly on the wall.
The cunning beast is fiercely fast —
I’ll stop him yet with a greater blast.
Time for mercy is long past.
A swing. A miss. I am aghast.
All because of a fly on the wall.
Past my ear the fly goes buzzing —
It truly makes me want to cuss-ing.
Now his brain I’ll be concussing,
But instead, my room’s a-mussing.
All because of a fly on the wall.
The lamp is broken, the desk upturned —
The fly. The fly. My anger burned.
But it does not seem concerned;
Oh fly, your buzzing, I’ll adjourn.
All because of a fly on the wall.
My efforts redouble, I do my worst —
My head is pounding, near to burst.
Oh this fly, it must be dispersed —
I miss again. I’m cursed, accursed.
All because of a fly on the wall.
Chest heaving, not enough air —
But I’ll do for that fly, it hasn’t a prayer.
Swing and swat, but it’s never there,
The fly acts as if it hasn’t a care.
All because of a fly on the wall.
I stumble, bumble, fumble, and fall —
Pushed too hard for something so small.
Too spent to stand, too weak to crawl —
Nothing to show though I’ve given my all.
All because of a fly on the wall.
My breath grows shallow, vision goes dark —
So much effort, I’ve left not a mark.
The truth sets in; reality stark —
I meet my end with none to remark.
All because of a fly on the wall.
They play with my dreams
Laughing at the bursting seams
As everything falls apart
Painting with the blood from my heart
Covering walls with my feelings
As I lay there dying and reeling
They said open your heart to be free
Holding in the twisted smile I now see
There is no basement for how low
They will inevitably like to go
So draw back all of the curtains
Because misery is served for certain
And as my thoughts are bickering
The lights above are flickering
At least let me see the sunrise
Before my final demise
A lifetime of mistakes and aches
I couldn't quite find the brakes
So as my spirit finally breaks
Surrounded by callous fakes
I'm not the only one crying
As I'm laying here dying
But their crocodile tears
Are slanted by sensational sneers
They play with my dreams
Laughing at the bursting seams
As everything falls apart
Painting with the blood from my heart
It's so ironic to finally find fame
When the credits roll on this sad game
Because I have been defeated and deleted
My soul depleted and good intentions cheated
But my echoing cries
Are greeted by one last sunrise
Why love and never love again
Tears reach down and drown out memory
My heart pulled down and out in tidal forces
Raw feelings cause trembling on the lakes sad reaches
Ripplings of waves cause no relief this day
Death. It is a start to end a friendship
It starts within the bones of marrow emptiness
I draw back my bow with fire from my soul to tip of arrow
Release the flame to the funeral raft of straw and branches
To send my sweet love off to her eternity without me
Quicksand becomes me in that instance
Who could have a more sinking soul
Then to send my sweet love off
Just off shore in a funeral raft of straw in flames
Incendiary baron world surrounds us
In lighted night to burn my loves last remains
Last hopes, remnants of a passion that burns out
Brings me lower to sorrow no man needs to know
She burns down then sinks beneath the somber waves
Gray are the ashes floating with all lost souls
Caused from some disease that caused this fatal end
Unfolding life, floating ashes on the wind begin
There is no place called home
Grief is the only life I know. It is my own
I call it mine to the end of time and cry
As she is gone and so am I in life's short passing
God gave me eyes to watch her slowly go
I just don’t know why life which is so beautiful
Must end and why...Why my love must die
Authors note: I wanted to submit this poem for the Funeral Poetry Contest Deadline: Sunday, July 21, 2019 but 99 poems of the maximum 100 allowed have been entered and it looks like it is closed out already. I'm still posting it here for your reading pleasure, even though it may not be all that pleasurable.
She comes to sing for bread and breath,
In a pathway by his window.
Time too is stopping this morning
With a longing to hear her voice.
She tiptoes, then stops, then tiptoes
Until she reaches the window.
Song in her mouth, guitar on her
Hand with fingers fixed on the cords,
But no song can come out because
Her lyrics get lost in his eyes.
She tries to draw back, but is drawn
Forth by that force the rose best knows.
So she stands and longs for his heart,
And spells his name on her guitar.
Then a new song fills her lips,
His heartbeat guiding the rhythm.
The lyric painting his portrait,
And the cords pulling him nearer.
He leaves the window and walks down,
Smiling, showing his thirty-two
Till he stands by her gentle side.
She keeps singing, inundating
Him with her soft honeyed voice.
He joins her, they sing and sing.
But when he turns to say a word,
She quietly walks away
Because she knows their skies are
Parallel to each other.
Draw back the drapes of those tenebrous clouds
for my eyes desire a glimmer of the pallid moon.
Sullen shadows of night, her beauty enshrouds.
Covering her faint glow is a sin, I dare impugn.
Lustrous is her light when emerged in the night,
as pale as the alabaster skin of my love's cheek.
A pearl in the sky. Passion's flame she will ignite,
reflected across waters in an aura of mystique.
Without the moon, my soul would mourn, bereft.
Her splendor worthy of lyrics written in musical bars.
I would write a sonnet for her if my hand was deft.
Even though her hue is wan, she outshines stars.
I'll not weep for the moon while her light wanes.
I'm aware that it's just a phase, and soon will pass.
Then, comes the time when her luminance reigns
and billowed nimbus will turn aside for her. Alas!
If overcast shadows choose to darken the skies
let them do so to offer shade from the sun's heat,
but never allow them to conceal from my eyes
the trysting place where the pale moon and I meet.
July 22, 2022
One In Five 2 Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Phrase 4
golden bright light spears into the night
shattering the darkness and breaking into blue
pinpoint bright colors fading away
heralding the dawning of the new day
children’s bright laughter sounds on the lane
girls and boys chasing and running away
too young yet to be chasing dreams
seeing just minutes into the day
shop keepers opening draw back the blinds
unlocking the treasures for customers to find
seeking the music that fills their hearts
coins that shingle sounding so bright
fathers and husbands slip out their doors
unto the cities to travel again
selling their skills and losing their time
that they might tend to their family’s needs
mothers do straighten and clean their homes
doing their that never will end
some are singing the joy of their day
others weary trudging just marking time
days can so quickly brightly fly
filled with the joy of each passing day
dreams that do sparkle brightly in view
hopes in the tomorrow that will surely come true
yet in the darkness of rooms that are closed
soft sounding cries of hopeless dread
breaths that do struggle to bring in life
lie broken pieces of dreams that do end
bright colored birds passed windows do fly
singing bright songs of cheerful joy
knowing no needs and seeking not
simply just living a another day
In the end, we will laugh.
We will draw back the curtain and see there was never distance to cross. We were not away. We were not lost. We have always been home.
There is a table, with many already seated.
We will sit with them and join the meal.
Notice the chair holding you.
Let the hands unclench.
Notice light resting as dust,
with no promise of arrival. It gathers quietly on the table that was always there.
You do not have to earn the meal.
You do not have to understand the room.
You do not have to become anything more than what you already bring.
The language of dust says, there is no need to wait.
The meal has already been set.
The table was never withheld.
Only unseen
Pull the curtain away
You can sit at the table now.
So, Sit.
Sit now.
Nothing is wasted. Nothing is outside.
Everything participates
Sit and laugh a little sooner
Sooner than expected.
As I draw back the needle
that familiar smell of alcohol
takes me back through the years
this cloudy substance
swirls like the emotions of mind
...I remember the smell
of rubbing alcohol as it mingled
amidst the scents of applesauce
cooking atop your stove
while you stood there
trying to steady yourself
on the walker, and wooden legs
the fresh basil and tomatoes
sitting on the counter
amongst the extra apples
I gathered that morning
as they laid scattered
atop the fresh fallen dew
I was so proud
as i sat there
sipping pastina
anxiously awaiting
for a taste
from your wooden spoon
I still prefer my applesauce
warm, unsweetened
just as memory recalls
I never saw you grow old
nor did you ever see me
grow past the age of nine
yet I have always felt you near
more so now
as draw back the needle
and inject it in my leg
I feel it linger
in the slow burn
like memories
I close my eyes
and see you there
needle drawn
beneath the scents
of rubbing alcohol
and applesauce
as it simmers
atop your stove
yet my lips
only taste bitterness
of fallen tears
as they tumble
through recollection
of past
August 7, 2019
NA Rerun Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Originally Written on August 1, 2019 for Cornucopia Cooking
WHAT MAKES ME FLINCH
Flinch verb- draw back in pain, disgust.
I’ll tell you what, does that.
Lies, centuries being promoted,
disgusting as … a rat.
Snakes, spiders and yes, roaches too,
will see me scale a wall.
Yet find nothing as disturbing,
as lies … these get my gall.
Churches should have been teaching truth,
with Bible this I’ll do.
Bet taught, Soul’s something inside you,
bet never taught … it’s YOU?
“Man BECAME living SOUL,” Genesis
two: seven, truth you’ll read.
Clearly says, NOT given a soul,
WE are SOULS … truth concede.
Example: If BECAME a student,
not a student, give you.
it’s YOU, what YOU have become,
same principle … is true
Joshua eleven: eleven,
read,“Soul struck with edge of the sword,”
died, “utterly DESTROYED,”
STOPS breathing … no discord.
Flinch when hear “Soul is immortal,
Bible proved that’s a lie.
Churches, books, movies, all promote
lie … that soul doesn’t die.
Flinch, because love truth, and Satan’s,
called “Father of the lie.”
Flinch, cause those ignore Bible truth’s.
spread Satan’s lies … and why?
Contest: What Makes You Flinch
June 12, 2019
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver