Long Fallowed Poems
Long Fallowed Poems. Below are the most popular long Fallowed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fallowed poems by poem length and keyword.
Kiwi Cricket's Shangri La...
"Can still hear the deafening din of the Indian crowd chagrin.
Stunned shell shocked silence at mandarins' sins.
Yet somehow still so loud
Like thunder down under in the proud
Land of the long white cloud.
Daring to dream of derring do plunder.
Upsets’ unctuous umami.
Shocks’ sumptuous serendipity.
Cast asunder as against the odds.
Hallowed Gods' anguished..felled & fallowed.
Kiwis vanquished the voodoo of Indian home hoodoo.
This purple patch, so perversely plush...got a hunch.
Would make even Prince blush, proud as ribena punch.
Sporting nirvanas cavorting with crepuscular career nadirs.
Can’t pillory this Test expedition, like the Everest conquest & Hillary.
Black cap sedition…Indian perdition.
Tradition debunked by spunky funk.
Not once, not twice but thrice.
Teeming..awash with gleaming beaming white.
Emancipation...damnation & salvation.
The Indian’s cardinal sin…not being able to play spin.
No way you can naysay.. just
Another Bill Murray Groundhog day.
As we learned..the underdog winner.. we yearned had turned.
Fat cats burned & stats spurned..into a dog's dinner."
Everything that I have read have observed heard said has been about the bowlers instead
Critics and pundits quick to quip that the favoured fillip of Test cricket's taking all 20 wickets
But I reckon as this crackerjack Ashes finally beckons the middle order's the butter & bread
Can the Yorkshire pair Boycott's flair heirs utter with lacy grace and no airs be the comperes
Can't stutter Joe & Harry nations expectations carry as each ace parry harry fill OZ with dread
Underhand sand gate riff of great Smith having a tiff hallowed or biff.. fallowed Archer arrowed
Let's not forget the raring hubris of madhatter Travis Head daring to go where angels fear to tread
Glaring pelter filter out of kilter as we swelter in this flaring helter skelter belter of an Ashes smelter
Will we be an abroad marauder.. a run hoarder.. adored history recorder who gets the street cred
Experts applaud flatters bowlers as what matters dreams shatters in tatters without the batters dead
Repeat & rinsed I'm convinced it's all about the riddle of elite red ball middle order princes
Fab four encore who does score more on this tour..Rooty...Piggy.. Brooky or Taches win Ashes Head
ODE TO A NEVER RECEDING ECHO
For Onyebuchi
Day and night in an eternal combat.
A truce : the eternal cycle of night and light
Lost in the ruse of an eclipse.
Where is the truce in the ruse of going and coming?
You found yours swinging on that threshold,
Where udara tree dances to the choirs of the wind.
Then you bend to itch the scratch.
The debt of birth repaid too soon.
Where lion wimp and head dancer limp!
Crippled Aligo!!!
Have you journeyed through the chart on your palm ?
After a drunken sip of prerian spring.
Soured tryst with Sophia.
Cherubim through the umbilical returns
To the progenitor?not conceived! Unborn!!
Halo on rusty hair sits.
Or was it your iyiuwa. Unburnt
Pleat, unpleat then pleat…
Under the star-apple tree,
Where all roads meet
Do not live on the threshold
Stay with me, ignore the whispers of these shadows
Itching your feathered cap.
You have sucked through this nipple time dry
Leave her, now flaccid, bosom. see she shrieks.
Head of the Baptist shrieks
Superfluous gift for many half Christs,
Too proud for Baptism.
I wonder why?
A pine piercing the sun
Withers at the descent of a dozen, score moon.
Eleodimmuo it is you I am calling.
You, eternity lost in time.
A dance to a never receding echo
If now is dusk, I hope the echo stays
At least,for me, a pedagogic star.
While the magi?me, beside the manger wait
For the birth of light.
While owl hoots dove’s lullaby;
Vulture hatching in eagle’s nest.
You are my Ogbanje, my forerunner
Even if the lips of days hums dirge as they pass
Now, Soldier ant from the udara returns. again.
Matching, invading my tryst, feasting on a depleted layer.
Futile to chase; deliberate in pace
Need I learn this tune?if it never rest?
Fallowed stream bites as dreams cradle me.
The black thing chants Ogbanje, Ogbanje and I sign
At this never receding echo.
In memory of Onyebuchi
If you in dancing to, faults, my beat. see a fore admission of a mortal's fallibility
Uraoma Nwannem
© Chikwado Nwattah . 2014
In a world decayed by tyrants and greed,
Serving the human for the human mans creed.
Separation and conflict, the terms we now know
Where once The Last Bastion “Hope” used to grow
Defensible positions push further the lines
Where once the Hearth kept us warm through the times
The surety of plenty now fallowed with salt
Our Promised Land lays dormant, brought to a halt
Successor and Succor were once the lands governed
Brought low by obsession, greed is now covered
By laws and amendments they do what they will
Never giving care to the blood that they spill
A spearheaded tactic, to punch through the lies
Conviction and reason, the common ones cries
To once again see a world of solace and care
To take away hatred, and an end to despair
So with this, The Last Bastion “Hope” you can see
The salt lifted from a land that was once diseased
And never more daunted by an endless abyss
With “Hope” Comes “Love” and in the end … is “Bliss”
Summer like an eagle has swooped down
Under its tearing claws, the Earth shrieks and groans
Days and nights breathe out the stench of dribbling sweat.
Roads rage and roofs steam like an overly heated pan.
The midday Sun flares right overhead,
Spitting fumes and fire all around.
The Earth lies scorched under its burning breath.
An oven pre heated, hot enough to grill and bake.
Rivers and streams pant in wild unrest
Canals and cisterns lie distraught
Dry leaves in whirlwind swirl around.
Fallowed lands yawn with mouths wide agape
From the woods, rise coils of sooty smoke,
As the dried undergrowth burns in the forest fire,
Sucking the last vestiges of grass and green.
The flames of fire dance in wild ecstasy.
Alas! The self same summer has barged into me
Burning outright all my unsung songs.
In my ears, echo the rustle of dried up thoughts,
Which waggle round me like disembodied spirits.
How I lament the loss of my lovely rhymes,
As the ink in my pen also is drying up.
Oh! I wish it were moistened by the waters of Helicon
And like a stream, trickle down into the paper I hold!
I didn't pen the words,
I didn't script the lines,
To extol her virtues,
To praise her perseverance.
They lay in my chamber,
Fallowed in my hind part,
I was naive with words,
Stagnant with its fluidity.
She stood tall like a bamboo,
Unruffled by life's vicissitudes,
Unperturbed by its tempest,
Unscathed by its inferno.
She pushed back the tide,
Meandered the clouded pathway,
She wrestled the assailants,
Freed from midnight's grasp.
Time after time she prevailed,
Until she took a bow,
It was time for her to leave the stage,
Pull together the curtains.
October 7, 2022.
"You will come to the grave in full vigor, Like the stacking of grain in its season.
— Job 5:26
Abraham breathed his last and died in a ripe old age, an old man and satisfied with life; and he was gathered to his people.
— Genesis 25:8
PARADE OF SILVER ROSES
Ripened with wrinkles and jowls of joy,
why cry over fallowed days,
when the brightness of youth
squeezes you tighter than foremost days.
Giggling, kicking at the mound of enjoyment,
the parade of silver roses laid at the grave —
that’s how the whippersnappers see you,
those tug-a-war children that hound at the heel
of your beloved grands of glockenspiel.
Supercilious satisfaction as you tether your cane
to tenderness and affection, aggressively pointing
only at those crooks who choose to lambast insane,
ruin your days and keep at arm's length the babes.
Silver in your hair, spun by hands with stigmata holes,
and you’ll breathe your last and first breath all the same.
With seasoned wheat, such golden beauty,
ecstatic at heaven’s attraction, standing in frame.
3/9/2020
From cold, distant hearts frigid
air doth circulate
Downy blanket no longer the
surface can insulate
Icy stares a corrosive wind
doth instigate
A sheltering family no longer
the gale can mitigate
Frostbitten minds numbed to
their pending fate
Emotive cisterns once gushing
with joy now frozen, stagnate
Frosty touches cause tender
limbs to degenerate
Thick, dreary clouds hover;
fleeting hopes oscillate
A rolling fog descends;
foundational dreams obfuscate
Fallowed ground fertilized by
acrimonious debate,
Allowing only seeds of malice
to germinate
Lacking a steady compass the
barren expanse to navigate,
Two, intemperate souls from
winter's chill hibernate
A stale frond whose limp veins
are now desiccate
A solitary kernel for lack of succoring nurture aggrieved
From sun's warm caresses seasonally bereaved
With wind's chilling strides constantly plucked, heaved
Lying on fallowed ground whose cloak now desleaved
With frigid mantle over frostbitten spine weaved
Nutrient-rich pores of their cultivating provender relieved
As brittle husk to its fibrous moorings tightly cleaved
So coarse grains to earthen crevices, pockets sheathed
Dormant, but from bludgeoned shell will not secede
Nor Summer's bountiful harvest deed
A sparse, unfurnished bed temporarily bequeathed
Until providentially-rendered elements have new life breathed
Still yet, creator hath numbered all and due rations perceived
Until Spring's availing tides have Winter's corroded channels reprieved
And life's, generating tenants from their frozen prisons freed
It’s been 3 years since the low blow of nadirs
As we said hooroo to you..goodbye to our top guy
Still feeling...reeling from the pain
Of all the polished veneers of careers
Which is the best palimpsests of Test contests..conquests
The class...VIP pass..no glass ceiling
Why..has to be the insane arcane Shane gravy train
You know they’re in the hall of fame..like Elvis
When they just get called by their first name
Palpable fears cricket will never ever
Be quite the same game again
Cricketing Gods above showered their love.. on an upstart..
Who didn’t just play his part but resurrected
The respected but sadly neglected.. leg spin art
Vision of befuddling precision & derision lingers
The dawn of Warne
Muddling aplomb of his first ball against a Pom
Fingers flipped…it dipped..gripped..ripped
Nipped..skipped..clipped off stump
Leggy bomb….under the pump
Down in the dump chump
Plump Gatting slipped..pipped
We quipped..ill equipped..standing sentry for
The outstanding ball of the century
Shane twirled & quite simply
Changed the world of batting
Gandalf's celestial staff...walks the walk...talks the talk
On some extra terrestrial path
And at tother end..you're having a laugh..where
When there's then the zen
Of his old friend Glenn McGrath
Warnie’s masterplan of..flair…elan and despair
Devious...mischievous...had plenty of previous
Alright unfair trite slights about hair implants..highlights
Off the square delights…did revel with rare
On another level.. seedier devil may care flights
Done like a kipper by a ripper
Wannabe chipper skipper's flipper again
One of the game’s greatest readers & media feeder
Should've been.. hallowed.. not fallowed leader
Memories never wane of how
Shane did forever entertain
A whizz doing the biz with such fizz
Legendary larrikin of sin & spin
So let's ordain the Champagne
Campaign & Reign of Shane!