Long Flanking Poems
Long Flanking Poems. Below are the most popular long Flanking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flanking poems by poem length and keyword.
Within the oak tree, I have settled here
Whilst aureate sun peeks between the leaves.
My chirping song is heard roosting from top;
Can you see me; beguiling is the day.
Inherent nature's rhyme, a placid scene.
Winter has passed its chilling visit.
Spring with twelve hours daylight, nights my shortest.
I am three years old with reddish-orange breast,
Unbound and quintessential of them all.
Tugging squirmy earthworms out of the ground.
Cherubic is the flanking mockingbird
Has alone flown away now is silent.
I rule the passing hours of night and day.
Good-bye, good-bye the fiddle months last flit.
Summer nearly done, Autumn outburst late
With fruit bayberry, cherry, pyracanth;
Around the lattice to set pudgy grapes
Budding flowers for fructifying bees.
Lingering on a branch plume with winter
First snow my wings are spread quickly, fly off.
A glow of warmth I bring on winter's day!
1/27/2023
Winter is not Forever Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
In the night, the sea was still,
Maggie Province, with iron will,
A mission clear, eyes set on the prize,
But shadows linger, beneath dark skies.
Fire the guns, let the thunder roll,
Echoes of courage, in a brave heart's soul,
But the darkness hides, they’re flanking our way,
Fight till the end, through the storm we’ll sway.
A warship lurking, laying down the mines,
We charged through the waves, as fate entwines,
But a cruiser’s wrath, came rushing in,
No mercy shown, where this battle will begin.
The ocean roars, as we stand our ground,
In the face of doom, our spirits are bound,
With every shot, we’ll make our mark,
But the night grows colder, and the sea turns dark.
Down we go, with the stars as our guide,
Brothers in arms, forever we’ll ride,
In the depths of the ocean, tales will resound,
Of the brave destroyer, that fought all around.
I dive headfirst into Masonite’s wood fibers
compressed baked & primed
blending boundaries of life,
lightning and death’s
cycle of pain in paint
as a path to tranquility treading
through inner turmoil of vibrancy
A hummingbird in her shell breaks away
the triaged torment
for a moment, quietus cabaret on
cacti untamed canvas
conveys an observer in one’s
own collard greens
Tehuana traditional gown
from the Isthmus of Tehuantepec
ripe reds & burnt orange
Oiled in, the gods Xolotl,
guard dog portrayed
Aztec god & fertility goddess
Motherly milky way
flanking figures,
a fiery orb of the sun
& the cool, silvery moon
dualities of balance
Fresco muralist Diego Rivera
cuddled infantile by Kahlo,
adorns a frontal lobe’s
opened third eye
& wears Buddha’s mouth
apprises of oriental wisdom
both his & hers
naïve folk art
enveloped in a cosmic
love embrace of the universe
These three seldom spoken words, "I was wrong,"
can numb the sting of emotional pain.
But our egos balk at playing along
and accepting blame; we are far too vain.
We've convinced ourselves that we're always right,
and it angers us: to suggest we're not.
Such arrogance often leads to a fight,
where stubborn hearts bear scars of battles fought.
We won't admit we've spoken out of place
for it's inconceivable we're at fault.
And we will defend our lies, in your face,
flanking the truth with a verbal assault.
"I was wrong" gets replaced with "I love you,"
blurring the distinction between the two.
Gargoyles, gargoyles, in the air,
it sets my heart to fright,
flying on their leathery wings
through the Stygian night.
Gargoyles, gargoyles, I can see
when they emerge from stone,
eyes glowing blue in the darkness
as endlessly they roam.
Most will say that I’m a madman,
see ghosts where there are none,
but I have seen the gargoyles,
even got close to one.
Saw the large, plunging canines
set in a bulldog jaw,
saw spines of the short, stump tail,
by skin that looked rubbed raw.
Saw the curving, dinosaur claws
on digitigrade feet,
saw wire arms and slashing nails
hang down menacingly.
Seen pointed and oversized ears
flanking a brutal head,
and batlike wings that stretch ten feet,
to fill the soul with dread.
And when Father Smith realized
that all this I could see,
he sat me down in a church pew
and explained it to me.
That those horrid gargoyles were
not there to bring me hurt,
in fact, they had a clear purpose:
to guard this very church.
That every night they went hunting
for creatures born of Hell,
they grappled with the Devil’s spawn,
and other creatures fell.
He said only a blessed soul
can ever see them fly,
but I do not feel very blessed
when they take to the sky.
Yet despite their harsh appearance,
the priest gives them the nod,
these ugly creatures somehow are
in the service of God.
If anyone can see inside
I guess it would be Him,
and I suppose judging them so
is just one of my sins.
You may call it human failing,
or irrational fear,
these monsters may be on our side,
I still don’t want them near.
Gargoyles, gargoyles, in the night,
they’re all out hunting now,
I cannot sleep, the only one
who hears their screeches loud.
I'm A Happy Whale
I am a whale
keeper of the sea
so mighty and huge
I swim to great lengths
from the arctic sea
to Hawaii in the winter
... I put on a show
The greatest show on earth
that's not man choreographed
as tourist flock for a peek
from tour boats and land
cameras in hand, no doubt
to take keepsakes
and treasures
of me, of me
to take back to their love ones
or to frame in their memories,
in albums and on walls
of me, of me
I don't want to disappoint
I don't want to disappoint
first I pay homage, though
to the land
the koolau mountains
flanking in the distance
and to white sand beaches
nestled with palm trees
as a cool island wind
breezes over the glistening blue and white
I blink, I blink
at paradise, at paradise
and at a seagull circling above
blinking back at me
I get ready, I see my cue,
in the distance, I see hundreds of tourist
most of which are clad in Aloha print waving at me
the stage is set
I dive to the deepest depths of the sea,
along with my pod
gathering up speed, like a submarine
then breaching the surface
slapping the water with our fins and tails
dancing, dancing in winter sun
I blink, I blink
at the many tourist smiling
cameras in hand
no doubt, taking word of mouth to spread
I pause, I pause
I let out a bigger spout of water from my blow hole
I see more smiles, especially of the babies
this is paradise, from the smiles, to land and sea
I am happy whale
connie pachecho
2/2/17
Its arranged mr Trump..You are to win a second term.' The plebs recall your earlier
Presidency 'and less war.) Now you still need an edge.' An attempt will be made on
Your life.' But do not fear you will be ok.'
And you will gain the white house..
Thank you for your time today mr trump
See you in the white house.'
Brr brrr Hello..Yes inner sanctum secretary yes come to the main desk and
Request the golden envelope.' To access
Our location, five minutes elapse; Ring ring..Intercom request
Sir the agent is here.' Let him in a well dressed yet nondescript man comes in
Two imposing guards flanking the short
Hall waved him he approches a massive walnut desk , its all there said the secretary 2 million in large denomination bills, thank you sir.' You have a team still ready asked the secretary.? Yes ready to go..As expected
The target 'who i will not name' now has
Been informed an attempt will be made
Yet he will be ok..So i want your sniper
To touch his ear only.' This will ensure genuine shock.' And allay public doubt.'
I shall await your competent result.'
Goid day and good luck.'
Meandering meadows broken by a tossing garbling brook…strewn..rocks hewn embossing...marbling and moss flossing
Awoken whispers spoken..cantankerous coughing eddy wheezes..then a curmudgeonly icy mirror hush
Reckoning breezes yield cats' paws beckoning…teases across the flanking field
Fairies’ wield spells conveyed in lush dappled glades of plush bluebell dells
Stacked cumulus collage..shield montage cracked by dazzling azure shard mirage
Chubby clouds’ japes..conjuring cannily hung faces.. shapes...far flung places
Strife is rife..resurrection introspection survival..brings carnival of retrieval
New things...nothing can rival..primal primeval revival..Spring sings life!
I'm often asked by friends afar
What was that bright and shining star
That led me to this place of joy
To truly savor this, my rather special toy.
Was it the palm trees swaying in the breeze,
The cheeky Pelicans skimming waves with ease,
Florida's sun beaming brightly morn to dusk,
No need of taking weather Gods to task.
Miles of sand flanking the beach side road,
Reflections of my sportscar sleek and broad,
Cutting the air with startling grace
A glorious rumble heralding its pace.
Heads turning then blinded by the sheen,
A glimpse of Its lustrous body powerful and lean,
What better way to pass a perfect day
So far from all that usual fray.
Harmony and peace can come in many forms,
No need to heed convention, stated norms,
This passion shared by us the few,
Underneath that sky of blinding blue.
No, it isn't over yet that much is clear
As one who doesn't bet it is now near
In signs missed and our morals show
Not even a gist what you should know
A battle for souls searching for the lost
And as life doles it begins to take a cost
An Armor so shiny covering all the body
God above me it's Your Glory that I see
The fight continues as onward we press
Spreading Good News in all of this mess
The Lord by my side leading my very way
For me He died what else do I need to say
For it is of you that breaks my own heart
Doing all I can do in trying to do my part
As to Thomas Jesus said faithless be not
Or haven't you read His book a whole lot