Long Fledged Poems
Long Fledged Poems. Below are the most popular long Fledged by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fledged poems by poem length and keyword.
To be a fool is too difficult
You can't always think unwise
It comes to little sense when you think only stupid.
You can't simply reject when a Lass smiles
If a fool, you shun. If wise, you smile.
(May the vice versa – fool may smile at the lovely Lass.)
Then comes a thousand trouble
You were wise when you smiled back
You are now a fool while in love.
Your senses tell you; you are a fool to be in love.
Tells your heart you are fair at heart.
Decide you are a fool or wise?
It takes a lot to be a fool--- a full-fledged fool.
It makes sense to be a fool sometime
That sense makes you a wise person
As it needs much wit to be wise
For both live in dreams.
Fool dreams and dreams to dream
The wise dreams and works to materialize the dream
So that the fool can eat the fruits of his wisdom.
Have you decided to be a fool or wise?
Don't be too wise to be a fool.
That's a sin for God and all creation.
A stone-like heart best describes you.
Blood sei, Nubia tears, and a brief elision
Extremely wide and bone-white in hue.
The grin you used to wear long ago
Has vanished into a sea of bitter tears.
The whale you sought in the bay sank low.
bears wisdom and bravery without fear.
Your whole crew is incredibly brave.
With some wild spears in a back-alley saloon,
The mania grew into a full-fledged tidal wave.
They dragged the ship and are now maroons.
Don't travel faraway on one prosthetic foot.
Turn around the vessel; we still hope yet.
A despair pall lingered over the deck soot.
For prancing sake, we've never met.
If you hinder ignoring us, we will all die shortly.
Doom's mind and soul are free of sea spirit.
I hope that you'll be standing by to greet me.
Power derived from the same source to inherit.
Written: June 3rd 2023
Just nodded yes, when my ego had said no
Lost all consuming forces, simply let go
Met you halfway, instead of skirting the square
Perhaps sat down, when you brought over a chair
Found quantum entanglement, not just sheeple
Its herding force, far away from the steeple
Magnetism in both poles, pulling from all sides
Positive and negative, filling vast voids
Overcome the burden, in self surrender
Let empathy conjoin, and love engender
Gone outside my comfort zone, where truth persists
Quelled year old hate, encouraged alternate bliss
Lived together, stop digging at empty space
Found peace together, ending human disgrace
Believed together, without losing mere face
Came together, with all consuming embrace
But then again, (I wish I had) lots of things
Not just a pair of arms, but fully fledged wings
I’d fly ‘cross Nepal, meet and kill the Buddha
His words incanting, Shoulda Coulda Woulda!
THIRSTY
My thirst oozing with champagne in goblet
Melting into our mutual craving
Following indigo line on sunset
Misty dusty dusk, sky is engraving.
The tingling tremor, the lingering urge
Watching dormant desires being drowsy
Effervescence of love cascades to surge.
Amour oscillates somnolent dozy.
We float and sink in pearly passion
Dear , come closer! My most precious gem!
Memories of our love are in procession
Our ethereal unison to claim.
I am yours you are mine, fledged forever,
In Earth or Heaven, joint endeavour.
Sweet dreams and I love you
It starts so simple and pure
and then before you know it,
you're in a full fledged war
Honey you're on my side
Could you scootch over just a little?
Well sweetie-pie I tried,
but you're laying in the middle
Please don't wake me if I mumble
I was asleep for goodness sake
If I wanted a real conversation
I would have stayed awake
Now you're starting to snore
You've stolen all my cover
I can't take this anymore
You, with my pillow, I'll smother
Now that I finally drifted asleep
Rudely, I've been awakened
Was that kick an accident,
or were you really fakin'?
I'm tired of not getting sleep
I fear danger in the future looms
Because I'm past wanting separate beds,
I want separate rooms!
Torn are the pages of a callow poet’s scripts and poetry
whose temperaments in intensity brews, obscurity he owns
this lad of seventeen summers, by deluges done in,
unfortunate understanding and s
u
c c o r beyond his reach
Could it be his fiery red hair complements his fiery despair?
Flames of passion forged and fashioned from fragments
of wholeness denied blamed
Treacherous wrath resilient with bounds
and a harsh fixation that poison can cure
A martyr of poetic unjust, starved wooing words
spurned disdainfully by ruthless curs
O the valor oft times dons the mantle of resign,
sobering, despairing leap away, away
from the s c o r c h i n g i n f e r n o
internal, and into the great expansive beyond
Alas, at Sir Wrens St Andrew’s,
there lay the flesh of a premature eternal rest
and then, to bones yet destined to become fully-fledged
w p o i s o n t
h h
y y
t s
h ? e
e l
n_ _f
an arsenic end,
steel grey runs through veins
conscious elements eminence
Farewell to his anguished soul,
for his is a romantic eternal g’bye
fiery passions, temperate, b’fore him
an endless sorrowful slumber
A forger’s legacy
Elinoure and Juga Rowley works
War irks, such irks
Scarlet drips his corpse
O beloved knight in shining armor,
sisters’ pleas _/\_ raven’s mimicry
What war brings is not bright
“Virtue’s race
Is run in paths of pleasantness
and peace
though narrow, yet sufficient for the few
who have this Pearl of Price
alone in view”
—Thomas Chatterton
My eyes feel heavy..
Eyelids weigh a ton
Like a ton of bricks
No longer shall they remain open..
They are now closed..
With eyes shut..
I can see magnificent colors
Beautiful vivid colors are before me..
So clear..
So bold..
Colors are breathtaking..
As they are unique..
These colors I have not seen in existence..
With eyes open..
With eyes shut..
Vivid, unique, bold, colors appear..
These colors are floating everywhere
They are in communication..
Deepening focus..
In a deep, hypnotic, alpha state..
All is now..
I and...
The magnificent colors
The grandest of auras
Expressive and colorful..
Colorful auras..
Becoming symbols
Becoming forms
People, places, and things..
Surrounds..
My focus is..
Which is that..
Which is..
Out of time and space..
Where time is of no significance..
Time is not in sequence
Followed by..
And followed by..
No orders apply..
Time is unconventional..
Time is simultaneous..
Everything in existence is in the present..
Now..
Now it is..
Past is now..
Future is now
With my eyes shut..
I can reach out to past
The past is now..
With my eyes shut..
I can reach out to future..
There is no space and time
The future is now..
I have envisioned this..
I have become this..
In all of its glory
In all of its grace..
I have witnessed divinity..
Full fledged
full of grace..
Full of bliss..
In a state of becoming..
I am..
All divinity..
It is..
I am..
All..
With my eyes shut..
My heart is a secret garden Poetry Contest
Silent One
My heart is a secret garden.
Make-believe guards stand sentry at the gate—
vigilant, visceral, ready
to keep out trolls, lurkers, pretenders,
and every donkey-ass from my past life.
Cigarettes, booze, and cheap sex
can wander elsewhere.
This time, my garden filters only purity.
Where pride is planted.
In my last life,
I went through the mill—
a chronic druggie, an alcoholic, a whore—
a plot overrun with weeds
and dirty secrets that still claw at my dreams.
But in this new life,
the core of my being is a wonderland:
fresh, free, first-rate, full-fledged, fever-pitched,
sans the forked tongue.
Baby elephants, unicorns, and pegasi
march six by six
through rows of bougainvillea,
through blossoms and budding life.
An orphaned lion cub is saved,
loosed into the wind—
Born Free, finding a home,
a rhythm,
a new secret taking root.
The shadow in the night beckons.
I slowly rise from my warm and cosy bed
Only to follow the urge that drives me mad
Into spectral half-fledged woodland,
That spreads beyond my lonely tower.
Without volition, I approach slowly
A great, gaunt gate that towered
Over a ghostly path among the ashen trees.
A pale moon lights the blanched greensward,
That covered thinly the winding trail,
And from afar, I hear a river,
I hear its humming, throbbing, low, ferocious call,
Meant to disturb the serenity of my soul.
But I force myself into my somnambulism,
And perhaps, lull myself to dream of angels.
Oh! That anguishing moment! When I craved to cry,
And pour my tears, like monsoon rains, on some grass dry;
A bit away, hence, from the madding crowd, I went,
To soothe my grieving heart; give benevolent vent...
A hard hand hit my shoulder and commanding, said:
You're a man! Should not cry! Calm! Courage! Go ahead!
We, in our culture taunt, tease, torture girls, torment,
No shame? Showing off before strangers? You pretend!
Go! Wipe tears Apply talcum on your plastic face!
Lest those around judge you an empty broken vase!
Our girls, hence, tie pains like ghosts in their sari-knot,
Paint their faces with multi-color smiles, a lot.
Children! Gems! Never cry! If cry... Bad boys! Bad girls!
Satan is making home in you! His freedom whirls!
Why do angels crave things, like beggars full of greed?
Why, like dramatic artists - fussy tantrums breed?
God's watching like a hawk! Behave! Be virtuous!
Your movement should be angelic! Care! Courteous!
Yet, deaths, dangers, droughts, floods earthquakes for many years,
Have made us shed, like rain torrents, abundant tears;
All who gently hushed up feelings like shut memos,
Have melt into tears as though from lavas or snows;
Seeing harsh callous actions if we do not cry,
God's creating such rich tears has no purpose high.
Dogs cry. Horses cry. Birds, flies, and reptiles cry too,
Feelings, like dew-drops, fill and fall when we're in woe;
Sentiments secrete like wild streams within our hearts,
Full-fledged; flow like fluent falls; finely flits and flirts;
Stopping these, is, like building dams over rivers,
Wherein - water waves; caves; crashes; ripple-triggers...
Holding tears may be raw romantic! Dramatic!
Yet, its nature is to flow and fall full frantic.
Brain stressed; heartbeat skipped! Breath blocked! Body traumatized!
Muscles, nerves, and blood vessels stiff antagonized;
Nature has ways of venting pain and suffering,
Thwarting this is, just like her freedom plundering.
18 August 2021
This or That, Vol 5 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh