Long Encroachment Poems
Long Encroachment Poems. Below are the most popular long Encroachment by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Encroachment poems by poem length and keyword.
Pensile clouds of a new Truth loom.
With them are selected versions of
Extinct grief.
Looking through the yellowness of a
Dog’s eyes, this aura of Truth, pervasive,
Sours my palate.
What say the bulletins and tabloids
In their speech potency?
Have they recoiled on the sudden encroachment
Of stale seas
Or have they rolled out drums for Haley’s ROOTS?
Between Kamby Bolongo of watery essence
And the forested, warm plains of Juffure, ROOTS!
And drums fashion themselves out for Kinte,
Who must tap gently the face of the drum
For earthly summons.
From sinuous, valleysome frontiers backward,
We yodel loud,
Fronting bands of ROOTS.
Nine Eleven—a dark day lives of many workers were stolen away
Individuals worked all night; stayed; without seeing the light of day
Nose to the grindstone below floor level they labored productively
Effectively moving papers, stacks, racks, speedily and so selectively
Encouraged basement overtime; more taxes paid; they worked away
Loyal workers; dedicated to the cause; laziness to them—not a gift!
Earnestly they called home to say, “Honey I am working another shift”
Encouraged by those who stayed; coffee and donuts— no need to pay
Encroachment above they never did see as terror stuck during the day
Night’s darkness envelope the light; underground darkness of the night
~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~
© Joseph Spence, Sr., 8/27/09
© All Rights Reserved
~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
The brown bear
During Yeltsin years when he sold Russia down the river
People in the west loved the brown bear
we patronized the Russian as vodka swilling village idiots.
The cuddly bear died, and a steely-eyed fox to the helm
and the Russians was no longer cuddly.
The Russian federation was no longer willing to play
the game ascribed by the western press no longer willing
to be pushed around and laughed at.
Putin, the fox, turned Russia into a modern state that has
a modern army that is powerful if stirred by the west.
Russia wants peace but does not like the encroachment
by NATO/US, that is like Indians in western movies
encircling the wagons.
Putin, president of Russia, vilified by the western media
and the EU, ain’t forgiving
even the capitalists know this and stalk carefully.
First a flake, then two or three
frosted stars falling thru the naked trees,
a shiver in the chilled breeze
as every creature gathers to shelters squeezed.
Mid morning chill
bring on that frosty thrill
where body and soul are still
eyeing beauty along the hill.
Mid November appliques
or strewn along the earth's display
of autumn quickly tendered
to the arrival of early December.
Come away a moment
observe the wonder of this sudden torment
when winter begins encroachment
upon the dream of Christmas moments.
First a flake and then the storming
brings on the seasons warning
of time moving too fast to measure
hold the today for tomorrow's treasure.
Cold winds, the assassins of startled vegetation,
blow in with late autumn. Snow arrives
to cover the terrain with blankets
of white, pristine feathery snow; meanwhile,
some bodies of water turn into ice.
As the sun hangs low in vales of shadows,
December silently creeps in.
Skunks, raccoons, squirrels and other small mammals
also have crept in silence . . .
to hide inside secluded spaces against the cold’s encroachment.
Their breathing, heart rate, and metabolism slow down.
Waking periodically from their torpor,
they feed and then go back to sleep.
As cold-blooded as the enveloping snow,
snakes slither instinctively into crevices of rocks
as turtles and frogs burrow into mud.
Bears, having feasted in the fall,
now hide in their dens in a state of deep slumber.
How silent and tranquil is the realm of nature’s creatures
hidden from the prying eyes of us humans.
Some of us become almost as sluggish as the animals
squirreled away in their nests of twigs and leaves.
We feast like the pre-hibernating bears.
In a festive mood or perhaps feeling sadly forlorn,
we are more likely than in any of the other seasons
to hide away inside our own abodes,
especially when soft pearls twirl from twilight’s sky
and winter lays down a thick quilt of snow
beneath a canopy of sparkling stars.
We waken, at times like this, to our world abloom with snow,
grumbling at times about having to shovel our driveways
or to travel on roads slick with ice or snow.
Like the hibernating bear, I prefer in winter
the tranquility of comfortable slumber.
Nights in winter stay dark longer.
Our heart rate, breathing, and blood pressure drop low
as drifting into the deep of dreamy sleep we go.
Ah, winter, let me sleep in your quietude
as though I were being buried in the wondrous snow
of your slumber land.
~ Yolanda was--her name ~ Featuring:) Leonora Galinta
From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything
Like a Massive Storm
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night,
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder,
With the company of her own knight of darkness,
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses,
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.”
A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet,
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength,
Nature devouring nature itself
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children.
Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain,
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity
Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength-
:)
My Requiem.
To my witch, my retribution; my inviting audience.
By night fall of this day, I shall have become your Prince.
Your equal in a title, so impossibly imposing.
I implore you to see within yourself;
Let this jester enamour you, with a wickedest of wit.
The scalding maiden of charm and beauty,
I beg for you to allow me to be worthy.
Please encourage my encroachment, for I am simply a roach;
I lament at your yearning, to see my heart burning; and I a ghost.
For as you cast me down, with a demon in your eyes,
The banshee’s cry and wolves howl in the night.
The screams of those in love,
Fill the minds of those with no guide.
The succession of your family’s honour shall be immortalized.
Cast in stone, but never cast aside;
I call on your soul with my requiem.
I have gathered your disciples; the enslaved stand in line.
They are willing to die; they are the sultry condemned.
My genteel, voluptuous, lascivious, constant;
Let us wander into the dark and find our family of opulence.
Let us bring silence to their feast and raise the dead.
Our concerto for the stalwart soldiers,
Grows even louder with the taking of each final breath.
I am your zealot, with the foreboding forecast.
A love like ours shall never last.
For your soul is nomadic; it’s devotion solely to lust;
Your lust would become the ruination of love.
But my lecherous libido, still feeds my ego
And my hearty organ tells my brain what to do.
Such a torrid torment of the needs of the female,
But I deplore you to see I love you.
I wish you to kiss me in the morning light,
As we both climb back into our coffins.
Two coffins as one, we lay hand in hand in the afterlife;
Our eternal love, eternally bound;
Shall never be allowed to go rotten.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
Rising above my fears,
Steers my projection,
In the direction of my reflection.
A collection of experiences,
No one has clearance to,
Creates my personal view,
And situations i go through.
Repeating until i learned what to do,
The true reason you feared,
Clearing it from the wheel.
Feeling free for just a moment.
"ENCROACHMENT"
An event triggered the scent,
It went even faster now I'm bent,
Sent reeling into emotions,
A commotion you could hear,
Draws the fear offsides,
Inside pressure is rising,
Deciding how its revealed,
Really hiding a dig deal,
The solution concealed,
Until the pollution is cleared,
Another fear goes down,
I'm bound to find more,
When exploring why I'm here,
Steering clear from what I know,
Getting lost in the shadows,
Growing towards the light,
Fighting fears in my sight,
Face-Everything-And-Rise,
You might get a surprise.
I was a famous conductor, and performing beautiful music was my joy,
As diamond sunshine, to pervade darkness, finds any means to employ.
Music had long been a part of me, in that I sang long before conducting,
Like the famed adult bluebird choirs, lead the songs they are instructing.
My much loved work kept me busy. Still, I loved every precious moment,
As wild, crazy, summer colors dash afar, with no cries of encroachment.
But I had a personal favorite song, which I loved more than any other,
As anyone recalling their great loves, find their thoughts turn to mother!
This song had held special meaning for me, for what felt like long ages,
And I never tired of hearing it, as blooms will never have enough vases.
I thought of the melody as 'my song,' for in my heart, it was mine alone,
Like multicolored autumn leaves flying, when green summer is disowned.
It was then marigold days of sultry July, and dark purple martins soared,
Like finding you have heartfelt passion, for someone you once abhorred.
I had just entered a restaurant, when I heard that stirring song playing,
Like chattering, mischievous monkeys, swing forever in treetops, saying.
Then like always, I was transported, back down nostalgic memory lane,
Just as orange birds recur every springtime, singing the melodies again.
As I was returning home that evening, the full moon was in the treetops,
Whispering with those flashing stars, as a part of the nightly peace talks.
As I went up the front porch steps, the fragrance of lilacs was tangible,
As on the streets of scarlet summer, where wild blooms are fashionable!
The moment I entered my house, my heart song began its playing again,
As a sultry summer that's come lately, only to meet the vivid fall refrain.
Though I was enraptured by extravagant music, and music was my life,
Still, it was odd that it could play itself, the moment this person arrived!
It seemed that the song I'd loved so long, had come to love me as well,
And had determined to follow me always, like fragrances casting spells.
My heart song is still pursuing, through mellow days and jasmine nights,
As owl stares at a moon of rapture, and bees are off on honeyed flights.
That song of precious sweet memories, greets me every room of my life,
Like a red rose that blooms for you only, even where wild blooms are rife!
The hills,once green,now bare
yeild to poppy fields.
in rainy season,fierce torrents race down
towards the valley.
And in the valley,ancient rills-
dug by the kings,
most of them now chocked and buried
encroached out of view.
So water gushes wild
past the old foundations deep,
swallowing homes,roads,and,markets
without mercy in the monsoon's cruel roar.
Coming to my locality,
a rill that drain water stood for ages
encroached by the selfish ones
whose places remain dry
even in the rainy season.
And that rainy season brought
floods to our doors.
Our locality drowned,homes flooded once more.
Then the local club rose,
cleared the clogged course,
and waters receded- the levels fell low.
Relief washed over us.
But this very winter,
scourge struck anew;
encroachment returned
as intruders broke through.
The rill level does not drain;
the cycle repeats
the levels stay high again.
Once more we brace
for the rains yet to come.
It is a perennial threat
to our safety,weilded not by outsiders
but by the majority of people
from amongst us.