Long Eaten Poems
Long Eaten Poems. Below are the most popular long Eaten by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Eaten poems by poem length and keyword.
BELOW AND ABOVE THE SEAS SURF FACE
Gone are the fishers pulling Lugs; the Gull its gizzard rusty hooked;
and barbed, limit its shelled Limpet supply as blown sand creeps;
smart gulls dunk and dip, clean away dry sand grit, clear their voices;
some gulls with salted eyes sing in the briny choir, in the sea salted air.
Cackle is not birdsong ! Choked thirst, on this new digital barren beach.
Crabs below do not sleep, scuttle quickly to pincer cuttle fish inside out.
Lurking above swirls a leaden sky, pressing heavy on a mirage horizon line;
Its distantly trapped! Sunk in long lost rigging, discarded twine tangled nets,
buoyant on the flotsam and jetsam of a weeded bed, stalked by big Congers.
The tide rattled brittle bleached bones, of well anchored nameless smugglers;
who had the timeless tide current wrong, unsaved by oilskin clothed priests.
Breathing smugglers, long shipwrecked in the “ale house” of sin staggering;
his mind baptises their lifeless sinning smiles; many bound drowned.
While plying their trade, in a tirade coined and jewelled, greedy and needy;
there are many hemp baskets, nets twisted around boney blooded fingers,
torn sails billow caught in brackets, and pulleys, long ropes snake about.
Chains with stains of rust, crush filleted bones eaten by black cats and rats;
old Teachers wander the shore of wave words, they fall over, their own hands.
Long gone are the fishers families; they are food now, for long stretched lugs,
Bubbling below !
From the dream of a mage
Here comes the Ice Age
The unforseen illusion
That gives birth to abusion
Bringing upon humanity
A new mentality.
And in this dammed night
When i had slept so tight
2 wings searched the sky
For humans not to die
They searched for the sinner
The infamous beginner
To alter his mentality
With her sexuality
But he sleeps so tight
She can't bring him light
So she enters the dream
Where the 2 will sin
In a world of light
Full of pleasure and delight
A boy fights with might
The beast that took his light
The boy was bitten
He almost got eaten
Helpless in despair
The boy had to be cared
She flied low
Feeling the flow
Saving the boy
Bringing him joy.
In a green forest
A boy and a girl rest
The wings not to be seen
She fell in love with his sin.
Always the plastic containers,
leftovers maturing like potted gardens
stacked in gelid wastes
where pigs are plumped with peppers,
goat spooned into onions and cabbage.
The polar remains of once tropical meals
transformed into undocumented river craft.
A curried hash so ad hoc that it could be
the flotsam of a slaughtering hurricane.
Zipper bags squelch under my groping hand;
stomach turning, carefully wrapped debris
speak to my fingertips
more clearly than any danger sign could.
Dinners and snacks survive
as half-eaten life-forms
buried behind a white doored crypt.
Some, a few only
may be resurrected, only to be boiled
into innominate concoctions
by a cook who once loved them
far too much.
3rd march2012, by: Sashi Prabhu (zeauoxian)
Form: rhyming couplets
Sandy tracks, still and dormant, lie await for us,
Virgin sands of Malvan beach, its breeze my body salty caress.
Through the grooves of coconut palms swaying tall,
We trudge to the sandy shores backpack and all.
Green thatched leaves. Crowns of glory, shade it extorts,
Swinging hammock to nest me in my denim blues shorts.
A strong breeze blows saline pelagic scented odor across,
Blue waves melt to foam, kiss shores, hued shells emboss.
Lonely eagle soar virgin blue skies,
More of the brood join in and glide past fishing boats floating by.
A murder of crows feast on our eaten table,
As in the warm waters we dip, the crows our food they garble.
The waves sound gushing rhapsody repeat,
Us jovious beach bums in water enjoy the sunny heat.
Dry fishing boats on logs they are on the sands to park,
Lie along akin, like silent serpents, waiting for dusk to embark.
Sea gulls they glide over silver wavy waters,
Food seeking dives perform, for them that’s what matters.
A pack of dogs they frolic with glee,
As the fisher folk heave coir ropes dogs from there flee.
Golden sunlight darts out of stagnant clouds formless,
Group of lads, beach volley ball they play tireless
As I sit ten meters away from wet sandy shores,
Melody erupts as waves repeat encore.
She was taken by bears, that was the consensus,
dragged off in her sleeping bag; tracks confirmed.
Later the child was eaten, but not before she died of old age.
She lodged with the Grizzlies, growing sturdy, unusually hirsute
for a human girl, but pretty in a wide-bottomed way.
Frank Goddard and his hunting buddy Pete
had her in his sights one winter. He almost pulled the trigger
on his bolt action 30-06, but saw she was different and with her cubs.
They were leaf-mossed bundles of mewing need.
She was foraging for dead squirrels.
After one exceptionally hard year, an old bear warned her.
“We should have chewed you up, buried you in the forest
in juicy frozen lumps for when the hunger gnaws.” Said the bear.
She cried when she left the bear clan and her cubs,
but she stayed in the wilderness. Her limbs lost their ursine strength,
her body shrank, became twiggy and hollow.
A party of campers from Cleveland claimed to have seen her
buzzing through the tree’s, humming.
She grew wizened. No new leaf uncurled in her, then she died.
Bob Turner found her remains as he led a group of Eagle Scouts
over the ‘Big Hole’ mountain pass one summer. She had kept the
sleeping bag, she had made it her totem, a thing she wore like an animal
spirit. Scavengers had eaten most of her, but the bears killed the animals
and brought them back to lay beside her scatterings.
The Scouts took pictures and reported the find to the Montana Rangers,
but the Chippewa Cree had removed all sign of her death
by the time the Rangers returned.
Jill and Lucille are two very hungry slugs
They often dine out at their local garden food hubs.
Lettuce, flowers, fruits, sunflowers and beans
These are a few choices from these veggie canteens.
Some clues are noticed from a gardeners view
Slugs are not clever, they often leave one big clue.
Slime trails are generally very clear to see
When they travel for food that they eat greedily.
Flowers without heads and partially eaten veg
It all looks a mess when a gardeners work has been wrecked.
But hedgehogs love slugs that are plump and juicy
That's when Jill lost her friend, who's nick name was Lucy.
Jill left the garden when her best friend became their snack
Near to a hill, is where she met her new friend Jack.
But as with all stories, they change over time
Snails morphed into humans and birthed the Jack and Jill rhyme.
But that is not the first or last of the Jill and Lucille tales
Many more will be published about their life in the Dales.
These girls will be as famous with modern songs for the young
Feminine nursery rhyme rights will never be outdone.
“Bookkeeper” is the only word in the English language
That has three consecutive double letters
So the next time you're at a party and ask this question
You'll be crowned “Best Trivia Player” ever!
Did you know there are as many chickens on earth
As the number of human beings
This one blew my mind and will surely blow yours
Each day, 75 acres of pizza are eaten
Our eyes are the same size as the day we are born
But our nose and ears don't stop growing
Bet you've never heard about this amazing fact
Under black light, a cat's urine is glowing
A healthy, individual laughs about five times a day
Did you know, “bananas grow pointing up!”
I've heard that bamboo can grows three feet a day
Never stick bamboo up your nose or your butt
The Statue of Liberty's fingers are eight feet long
That's quite amazing for picking her nose
Imagine the size of her ginormous large nostrils
Could probably drive a truck in there if you chose
Did you know that humans average 4,800 words a day
My mother-in-law can beat that no problem
During a full moon, she can speak two words at a time
Some days three but that's not quite as common
Amazing stuff!!!
I am glad you have found another heart
You took my pain and reversed it from the start
Hope has no place for you and I my love
Your shallow words thou inked meaningless of
A delicate palate tasteful yet scurvy I say
A bouquet of flowers so quaint to ocular appeal for a day
Oh love I see through your scandalous ways
If it pleases you may your testicles be eaten by blue jays
Mother warned me of men like you
I should have listened what am I to do
For once a heart loves it is hard to retreat
Dare I remove my heart and suffer defeat
I fear my words shall fall on deaf ears
A sharp blade my heart suffers all arrears.
BREAKING NEWS:
There are unconfirmed reports that, while filming a new advertisement campaign, (on location), on the island of Flores in Indonesia, Martin the Geico Gecko, was eaten by a local komodo dragon named Varanus. Initial info suggests that Martin was taunting the komodo, but that is NOT yet substantiated.
Details are just emerging, but it seems Martin, whose body has not yet been found, (pictured here just moments before the tragedy), was initially bitten at a post-shoot party given by relatives, and was later attacked and eaten on his way to the Bintang Flores Hotel, after succumbing to the effects of the initial bite.
In a surprising twist it has been discovered that, even if they DO find his remains, his immediate family has no means by which to provide a funeral service or decent burial as, (according to a family spokesman), they are "just lizards" and have no regular income, (please contact the family if you'd like to help out).
Even more shockingly, they admitted that Martin was sadly "uninsured" ... so tragic. Let's pray this is just a hoax, and that the "little green bugger", (as he's affectionately called by his agent), has simply wandered off in a state of instinctual bliss. We're told this DOES happen sometimes with his particular species.
There is, as yet, little investigative information or hard evidence for authorities to proceed with, as the only witness was a rare Mascambing Cockatoo, who has since mysteriously vanished without a trace. Before its disappearance, however, the cockatoo was heard by many people as repeating Martin's last known words, ad nauseum, "Eat me, dragon! Eat me!"
They DO have the primary suspect under surveillance. However, due to the slow digestive habits of komodo dragons, it may be some time before any "solid" evidence emerges, and even LONGER before they can find a forensic specialist willing to analyze it, (it's a rather messy business, that). Please watch for further updates.
Feel the year-end mood
Rainy punctuation,
Wetness all around
Touch of strange passion
Words stretch away,
New permutations
Here the watcher
Stretches out waiting,
Touch of wonder
Feel the pulse
Of mental images,
Poise of new voices
I wait to know
Some surge of feelings,
Blend of new rhymes
When rhymes fail
To rhyme in time,
Awkward lines distort
Discard the fullness,
Be as empty,
Ready to be full
Words act defiant
Accessory to murder,
Creative impulse dies
Yet words make
A measure that fits,
Ordinary excavations
Be unafraid then
When muse is absent,
Time for meanderings
Poetry is best written
Fresh as a peach,
Eaten for pleasure
Verse or no verse
Distant echoes call,
Stanzas feed compact
No need to ask
Why this ash and dust,
Let the fire burn
If you must know
Death's at the door,
Dye or die anon
Do not go beyond
That unknown sea,
For life calls to you
Christmas here
Tropical promontory,
Crumbling facades
Soon this old year
Must die to resurrect,
Phoenix reborn again
Only three more days
Till a new year
Arrives at the doorstep
Soul journeys feed
Wonder and wander,
Return to sender
Leon Enriquez
28 December 2014
Singapore