Long Flank Poems
Long Flank Poems. Below are the most popular long Flank by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flank poems by poem length and keyword.
Busily flicking possibilities, swarmed faces swum
Fishes flipped fast before the following
Murky harbour deep, screen swallowing
Clear impression of traits innate to individual ones
Flash of fin colour, gleam of sleek opalescent flank
Specimen slide best sides on show
Shallow images only clues to know
Intention is an open heart or a self engrossed wank
Beginner on Tinder thrown tasty bait in the deep end
Victim to fisher desiring a dinner
Real reason so seldom admitted
Deliciously caught before thoughts on loving depend
School density indicates potential pool hasn't a limit
Hanging keen line back in again
Hook mouth acrews horrid pain
Superfluous organs scatter float faithful love's inhibit
11th November
- Damn internet cheapening
of our valuable hearts -
Harboured feelings a f ucked up game
When I was but seven years old,
up on a mountain trail,
I was taught a deep lesson.
Let me tell you the tale.
My dad rented us some horses
for our transportation,
and first the animals' owner
gave us education:
Tug the reins left or tug them right,
to get your horse to turn.
Yank back to stop and kick to go -
I was so quick to learn.
Similar to a bike I thought,
and for each winding turn,
I gave my horse a guiding tug,
Yes, I was quick to learn.
When the mounts in front stopped
I would give him a yank,
and when it was time to resume,
I kicked him in the flank.
I imagined this living being
as a kind of machine -
instead of a heart or a brain -
having levers unseen.
After trudging on for an hour,
my horse broke to a run,
galloping fast in a dead sprint,
a bullet from a gun.
He knew ev'ry turn of the trail,
and didn't need my help.
I was hanging on for dear life,
too scared to scream or yelp.
He raced under low hanging limbs,
so, I had to lay flat.
And after a what seemed a mile
he stopped then, just like that.
So it was, I learned my lesson,
from my teacher the horse,
I had to change myself, not him,
then left him alone, of course.
This is an ancient land lapped by two seas in the south,
girdled by mountains the highest on the earth.
Many mighty rivers flow across this fertile land,
monsoon rains wash the land where I took my birth.
An eon old civilization grew in west flank,
permeated the native race of the land.
They assimilated flux of foreign invasion,
made country’s diversity a unique brand.
Steeped in Vedic culture and the karmic way of life,
takes pride in the invention of the zero.
In midst of medley of custom, language and belief
modern times are now coming at a pace slow.
Time will come when the nation will take its rightful place
in the world stage regaining its lost aura.
Glorious sun of eminence will rise in the east,
shine on future of my country India.
August 24, 2018
(Form used in the poem is Doha which is a
Hindi form of self-contained couplet in which
each 24 syllable line is split into two unequal
parts of 13 and 11 syllables)
He would enter the corral in the thick veil of mist,
up long before daylight, fog christened the air
The skies would be coral, and the sun glazed the crest
Dust shrouded the heels of his old leather boots,
and gathered in clouds around the hoofs of the mare.
Born with the morning was a whirlwind of grief
that had followed the storms of a night without sleep
Endless were hours , without refuge's peace
while he waited for sun to arrive and repeat
Caressing the flank of her sleek narrow, frame,
his favorite mare, Queenie, was the color of dawn
He would gather her reins, for a moment of calm
then, bury his face in her rusty brown mane
He'd watch as the light slipped over the hills,
smoothing the shadows, that haunted his world
Without ever knowing the worries we found
as we saw those same shadows, splay rapidly down,
drowning his eyes, with dark circles and frowns
Grief and the love of his horses, would ride,
together, off center....wherever, to hide,
and soften the hours, that waited for night
For the house was a shell, and the bedroom, upstairs,
became the forbidden, without her to share
The nights, ever long, were just waiting to tear
open the wounds that he couldn't bear
Up at the sunrise, and out until starlight
Where shadows grew stronger, and nights even longer
Burning the daylight, until light was in ashes,
then thrashing the midnight, with the darkness of mourning,
wading through dust-clouds, to see morning's light
Waiting for something to make it alright
____________________________________________________
The field was strewn with lads clad in Blue and Gray.
Some entwined in death's macabre embrace on that fateful day.
Infantry clashed and cavalry dashed in a struggle to the death.
Boys were heard to gasp, "Mother, I love you!" with their final breath.
The hills echoed with the steady fusillade of the musket's rattle,
As brave men marched forward shoulder to shoulder into battle.
Sun gleamed off polished steel at the front and on the flank;
Yank and Reb in mortal combat, rank assaulting rank!
Cannon belched roaring flame, hurling shot all thro' the lines,
Ravaging men and nature with their destructive mines.
The men in Gray screamed their terrifying "Rebel Yell!"
The men in Blue kept their eyes on "Old Glory" even as they fell!
Barely visible thro' the billowing smoke on that field of little hope,
Grew a solitary rose in a thicket on a nearby grassy slope.
It stood sentry o'er the strife, displaying its brilliant hue,
And seemed to beckon and say, "Peace I offer you!"
A soldier boy broke ranks to fetch the rose in a moment of despair.
He clasped it to his breast and proffered a hurried prayer.
Alas, the gallant lad was soon to meet his fate on that field of gloom.
Buried in a shallow grave, lifeless hands still clutched the bloom.
The fire alarm went off
Water sprinklers came on
Near pups will not writeoff
Pups are my obsession
The floor and walls hotter
Dry hot air_no way out
Get faint start to totter
There's crash on door without
Master early today
He will care for me_pups
We can count on him to stay
His love grows in all ways
It's not him crash through door
He spots me; as I survey him
Shiver with pups on floor
He reaches_ touches rim
Container where pups lay
Places in pocket on coat
Fireman works swiftly this day
Concerned person take note
Who's here_need to be moved
Swiftly fireman moves now
To safety takes them improved
Flames leap; gone_ puppy chow
My life_pups was limited
Our time totally up
To be annihiliated
Fireman saved me _pups
My one_ only method
To say to him thanks_thanks
Is loving kiss slipshod
As he pets my scorched flank
(slipshod in this case:careless or messy)
HURRICANE SALLY, 9/16/20
With an unprecedented surge
She has taken my name
And is raging her way across the Gulf,
In all manner of alarming the population:
To stir, to retreat, to shelter,
To abandon the known
For all other available possibilities, to go on
Far from what we find ferocious,
Or never anticipated,
Or not in the forecast.
We mumble slight prayers against
Devastations.
In a rush we gather our families and photos,
Our pets and necessary papers; we grab
A change of clothing and medicines. Who
Thought we could live with the least?
We think second prayers, hoping God will
Know the rest of our entreaties.
We take flight from home bases to higher ground.
The wind is heard coming.
Already weighty drops smack the ground.
Our children’s eyes are bulging out.
The ghastly, ghostly howls of the storming Sally
Have come, as she keeps overhead with
A continuous rumbling, rolling. Kept rolling,
Barreling, haunting from above: these tones
Of tempest as the water rises, and demons flank
The roads and mark the bridges, “No entry!”
Peace resides still, perhaps in some elsewhere,
For now as we continue on to a higher ground
And the hurry has chased us into long hours.
We try to remember we still carry all stillness
Within us, with reaching somewhere deep.
The eyes with no mercy
Will not rain even here today!
**********. ************ ************
(C) sally young eslinger 9/1616/20
Sending blessings to storm-affected families!
[Foreword: spring in the UK is delightful
But it isn’t all sunshine and roses!]
***
’tis a word, oft heard, for March, April, May
The crocus enlivens the woodland way
’twas not to be seen only yesterday
Spring is the word that the birds sing today
Weeping the willow tickles the ripples
The angler most keen swigging Scots tipples
For frost isn’t distant there on the bank
Yet Bream ’neath the branches dance flank to flank
A tail on a golf ball, this is the wren
As an old friend, good to see him again
Venture in sweater to fend sneeze and cough
Yet should the breeze drop, the sweater is off
’tis a word, oft heard, for March, April, May
Spring is the word that the birds sing today
***
11 March 2021
Contest: Breath of Spring
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Chapter..........1..........Part..........2..........3b.
The mounted riders,
they speed forwards,
Turvehr did kick with heaven's power,
his mighty horn tearing and rending,
His eyes,
afire with hates desire,
his coat,
it did shine like the raven's wing,
when kissed by Sol.
He was the destroyer of the evil fire,
to rend,
this was his work this day,
his heart a living flame,
pure hatred was his song,
to kick, toss and tear,
this would be his killing way.
Turvehr was a terror,
a light destroying the dark,
his horn now caked in bloody gore,
hatred ruled the battlefield this day,
great indeed was his majesty,
the glory of a darkened dawn.
Women watching,
cried out with fear,
when e'er an enemy came to near,
for love indeed, this day was born,
for Turvehr,
the king of the Unicorn.
Alahsar still had her gates,
mortal men,
their lives, they did lay down,
numbers falling,
Demons they did crawl,
The end of humanity? Dark hearts filled with hate.
From the gates a mighty moving,
womanhood coming forth with great haste,
Hate-filled eyes and voices of venom,
yelling out thunder as they come forth.
Now, into two groups,
these shield maidens do split,
one group heads for the Dunlaven bridge,
the other group, the fight on Badicha,
still, the foe seemed many more.
the Arlaghs ever to the fore,
a mighty foe begins to push,
the might of dark within each beast,
to hold this foe,
it would take mighty strength,
yet, strength was failing,
the Arlaghs, then, did mighty push.
Then to human dismay,
upon the left flank,
spiders, wolfs and their riders attack,
from the trees they come,
Arlaghs, they also come with this attack,
the cavalry on the left flank,
they are taken by complete surprise,
horses scream in fear as they begin to fall.
riders also crying out, as they die this day,
some shall lie on the bloody plain,
others within the bellies of flesh-eating enemies,
on seeing this, the women warriors hurry forth,
no order had the golden king given,
they had come,
against all orders.
Still, humans stand,
much blood does flow,
man and woman,
power did show,
children watching from on high,
as parents and friends slowly die,
Dark man fighting, vengeance dead,
the Tigress, she is spreading fear,
a bloody day for one and all,
"Blood For Blood," the mortal call.
To Be Continued.
Outside drives of dude ranches or of hobby farms
Cast statues of horses bred from Cortez' runaways.
They stand in basket planted ferns to camouflage their hooves,
Or rear atop a barn as though to jump into a circus pool.
More at home on green way cityscapes.
A scattered cavalry would save us from ourselves.
With piercing stares, their riders try to rally troops
To rout the rest, leave us solitary soldiers of the field.
Frontage roads and roundabouts
Out flank them and surround them.
Traffic blinded how they might retreat,
Or charge, they wait in disarray.
The only value now a century of late
Is a centaur kind of horsemanship:
One goal between an animal and man.
Graffiti by the day adds to epaulets of pigeon .
Mobs would have them roped and quartered down,
Hauled to salvage parks unseen revision of our past.
To those casting heroes into bronze, "Be discreet,
Bronze lasts longer than human judgements do."