Long Flew Poems
Long Flew Poems. Below are the most popular long Flew by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flew poems by poem length and keyword.
I was lost, despondent, not figuring out my life in any way
When a flashing light bulb that was dying became my mentor.
She hissed at me, but I did not hear.
I saw her blink, but did not linger.
Hey you! She finally yelled.
Desperate to straighten me out.
"I am dying," she told me. "This is your last chance."
This got my attention.
She told me to stop feeling sorry for myself.
She had less than three hours,
So it felt selfish to keep the despondency up.
I released it, and it happily flew into the garden to try and annoy the tulips. Good luck, I thought, they are always upbeat.
"What do you WANT to do with your life?" the flickering
dying lightbulb asked.
"I wanted to be a teacher," I said," But I do not have the school."
"Go get it," she ordered. " You are not dead yet."
So I went back to school, in honor of a dying light bulb
who flickered one last time before I could get her name.
RAF navigator Ron Day and I took of from Banff, Scotland,
I was in the RAAF, an Australian, and we flew in formation:
40 Mosquitos to attack German ships in Norway land,
In a harbour, Porsgrunn, but then came an acclamation.
“Bandits three o’clock! “, and so we did not strike a ship,
But broke away left and flew ’til I spotted sand on a beach,
But as i got closer realised it was Norwegian ice, no quip,
So the landing damaged us, plane and all, but we did reach.
After unjamming my leg, i paddled up to the surface,
With relief saw Ron afloat in his life jacket, life raft burst;
We felt mentally and physically numb and did brace,
We struggled, but heard a man from a boat shout in lust.
The farmers carried and cared for us, or cared for Ron,
But they told me “Germans come,” so we left by a pony,
I sat and shivered in the cart, then took a car to Oslo bon,
Our uniforms were yellow stained by the lake, very shabby.
We were then taken to hospital, but i ended up in prison,
And on Monday the 30th of April 1945 Hitler killed himself,
And we knew informally we were free, def by the elision,
When a guard gently touched my back, himself to shelf.
That was when the war in Europe was over for me, then,
But we had to await official victory when RAF men came,
However, before that, just to be sure, we left for the glen,
‘Cos the Luftwaffe general was contradicting the game.
We got back to London and i left for Australia on Orion,
And the celebrations would’ve lost control for alcohol,
‘Cos I’d found out that my brothers were alive and on:
We birthed, the collective mind reacted, but not us all.
As I wend my way around curving roads
up high into the mountains
I finally arrive at the Eight Gables Inn.
I wonder what it is that drives me here!
Perhaps I have developed wings
and flew across the Atlantic towards
The Great Smoky Mountains
on my adventurous ride
to the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Tired I hope the Inn
will live up to its reputation.
The sun is setting as I view
the purple orange skies darken,
whilst here and there lights
in desolate cottages twinkle in the dark.
I hasten to my private bath
and slowly sink in the warm water,
overpowered by the smell of soapy foams.
Pleased with my silky skin
I put on a plush bathrobe
luxuriously enjoying the feel
of the soft fabric against my spores,
and with a graceful dive find myself
on top of a feather-top bed.
This is the life of luxury...
Until I feel the taste of blotting paper
that cover my whole mouth.
I open my eyes and know
it was all a dream, alas.
III.
Through the boughs, crept the goddess of healing,
Circling around the branches with ease.
She saw the warrior beyond the trees,
Then stopped in her place—carefully kneeling.
She watched him with a merciful feeling,
And slowly rose to her feet from her knees.
Hoping to cure him from pain and disease,
At the loose tree bark, she began peeling.
She walked with her golden hair a-flowing,
As her white tunic radiantly gleamed
And reflected into her eyes of green.
She looked down at the warrior, knowing
That his wounds were worse than what they first seemed—
Then, she sought out ways of washing him clean.
IV.
She pulled on the arrow with gentle care
To make sure that his pain was not increased.
It appeared to be more than man or beast
Could ever have endured—or even dare.
There was a wide crack in his armor where
From his heart the arrow was now released.
The warrior had been nearly deceased
When it was removed from him unaware.
The poisoned arrow turned into a snake,
And slowly began crawling up her arm.
From forest plants, a poultice she did make
To free the warrior from deadly harm.
As he continued writhing from his ache,
A splash of water completed her charm.
V.
She assembled the best cure that she knew,
And its level of success was profound.
Now that all its components had been found,
The muddy poultice took on a dark hue.
Softly into the wooden bowl she blew,
And the serpent then fell upon the ground.
As the snake in the grass slithered around,
The two doves simultaneously flew.
Walking over to where his body laid,
She worked away to heal his wounds and scars.
As there was no sort of debt to be paid,
She left his side, along with her nectars.
As he rose to his feet, he hoped and prayed
That she would take her place amongst the stars.
© 2021
Of Ghosts and Fiends in Twilight, Cont.
The battle was joined and I was the victor
But no spoils were I to partake of just yet
The daemon commander was still in my way
His face glowing red with rage, his ire set
“Thou mayest hath quick the Master’s servants dispersed,”
“All sad, soulless slaves without purpose or mind,”
The daemon roared and spit through a scowling grin,
“I shalt not be as inept a foe thee wilt find!
Suddenly I was lifted up off the ground
And hurled hard against the wall by unseen hands
Wolven Stave flew from my grip as I crashed to the floor
Sorely stunned, but unbroken I regained my stand
I searched for Wolven Stave and to my dismay
The black daemon held it in one big, filthy claw
“Thy fight is at an end!” he said with a sneer
“Thou brave knight is lost, an inglorious fall!”
Wolven Stave’s blue stone then began to glow red
“Thou knowest not of whom thou chastise, mayhaps!”
I shot back with a smile as Grey Bane broke free
Came down and cleaved the vile beast from scalp to chaps
The Daemon split fell a bloody heap on the stone
Wolven Stave with Grey Bane was restored to me
Victor this battle, but the war not yet won
The Dark Lord awaits, my Lady Wife I must free
But which path to take to seek his dark abode?
With calm mind to see with my heart where it would go
Soon I was visited by a vision strange
My Fair Gennifer surrounded by ice and snow
I decided to let my heart guide me on
Not sure of the meaning of what I had seen
No truer friend found than the heart true in love
To aid in my Lady’s release from the cruel fiend
I stepped over piles of dismembered flesh and bone
Towards a door I espied at the chambers far end
I brought my full weight to bear on the locked door
It broke loose and flung open, through and down I went
The princess turned into a hideous monster
Roamed alone in the forest of melancholy
She cared no more for what she would become,
Hated the sight of crystal clear skies
For these reminded her of her previous state
Before she had been cursed by her own
Unpredictable sorceress!
As it is, she bit her lips and allowed herself
Not to cry each time her memories took her
To the valiant knight who used to make her heart beat fast
But then, each time the moon showed itself in the gloaming
Making the forest seem so otherworldly
She could not help but wrench in pain
Pray, it would seem that frosted on her fate
Was the very essence of pathos
There was no way from which she could escape
This current state!
She refused to accept that forevermore
She would have to remain a hideous beast
Half dragon, half serpent with the head of a medusa
Why, her pain and her rage were too much tonight
The moon, being so round and full
Seemed to ignite in her, the fires of salvation
She must be returned to her previous state,
A princess, so beauteous, loved and envied by all
Or she must die!
Adamant, she chose to leave the forest of melancholy
And flew over to where her knight's castle was and
Tried to bring doom to it and to his subjects
By spitting out fire mightier than the hotness spewed out of a volcano
Yet, as she felt the powerful arrows of her knight's authority
Piercing her heart
She grumbled in submissive allegiance
Pray, who knows into what essence shall she now be transformed
At least, she was graced to die as per his will!
For contest Eight Word Challenge
Written on 9 August 2017
The example says ya ta ta ya ta ta,
like Lady Gaga peels a Bananah,
A scene I see with no drama,
and you don't like it... "whateva".
I more than rattle with my atomic,
strap yourself in while I move a tectonic,
at radical speeds they call supersonic,
I'm without a subject or a path of logic.
I'll just ramble in search of an angle,
creating suspense and letting it dangle.
I could mock Remain who still complain,
or add to the stack of Trump poems that rain.
I would rather write a bit of laughter,
in truth I'd rather lather up your daughter.
But I go to far when I write naughty,
I'm over the top just like Basil Fawlty.
I'm yet too find the impact, call me David Miliband,
it's like when Stallone talks, no one can understand.
I can ya and I can ta but you hear blah,
I'm thumbling like a man trying to undo a bra.
My poems are good when I write from the heart,
but here is an example of me writing a fart.
I don't know why I take part because this won't win,
so just go ahead and throw my art in the bin.
ta ta ta ta,
a sheep goes bah bah bah bah,
radio ga gah, radio goo goo,
I'm sat, I'm fat I've gone cuckoo,
that ya ta ta ya example from you
sent my brain to Timbuktu,
the circuit blew and to there it flew,
I broke the stanzas and made a mess,
compared to this they all rattle less.
It's not a winner but an honourable mention,
and I'll rattle Nina with some penetration,
I told you I go to far and I haven't been drinking in the bar,
when it comes to random rubbish I'm a twinking star.
A Rattling Rhyme Poetry Contest: Nina Parmenter,
I lay rhymes that fit tight like a carpenter.
Her silky hairs were shiny gold
The graceful face innocently glow
Half closed eyes, celestial and soft
The half parted lips twinkle a smile.
Face mirroring images of the mind
Swimming in her own dreamy world
Sweet images of angels and friends
Dancing and clapping their little hands.
Heaven showers petals, snowy, red-
Pink, rose, blue, violet and yellow.
A deer and a calf brisk on the lawn
Love birds chirping to their steps.
A peacock dances with feathers spread
Parrots in flocks tune their tongues
While playful rabbits flapping their ears
A frog croaks short croaky croaks.
The angels touch their tiny hands
With each touch two wings were grown
Each wings shine, jewels and gems
And the angels take them to the stars.
The glittering stars in glee hug the kids
Gifting aplenty shiny jewels to each
Kissing their dimpled cheeks so sweet
As the moon showers its snowy rays.
With lots of joy this fleet flew around
As the birds flew to join their songs
A sweet fragrance of milk and honey
The air so cool and flowers all around.
As the rooster blew its alarm so loud
The little kid’s lids flickered to a wake
And wondering where the angels gone
She back to slumber clinging to her mom
My husband had a godliness about him that I saw in few if any others.
The man who followed his heart, not his sisters or his incorrigible brothers.
When he was told by The Lord that he needed to build a specific arc,
Lots of my relatives pushed us away, laughed, and gave us an indelible mark.
I knew his soul as well as any other, this was a pure, God-given mission.
Ham and Shem and I, Emzara, were the first to understand my husband’s vision.
Japheth pitched in. Before he comprehended, his hands too were animal care-giving.
Son’s wives readily helped me sooth, feed, and clean the animals; we all gave thanksgiving.
How will the animals know? One asked. I told her God will speak to them, and send them around.
When the last beast and bird flew in, the unbelievable storm winds began to sound.
The ungodly surrounded us, and begged us to let them in, but we were on God’s plan.
Their pleading cries dissipated slowly, as the magnificent waters rose around the land.
We kept His faith, sheltering and feeding His animals, mighty beasts of every kind.
Instinctively, they left each other alone, as if we were all of one sound unified God- mind.
The dove that finally came back to the ark, was celebration of what we had withstood.
Noah, Man of God, my husband has stood the test of time, as no other human could.
Mother Nature took her paint brush,
and eloquently tipped each petal
With a multitude of glorious colors.
She awoke the morning sun and coaxed
the pedals to greet the morning rays.
She dropped, droplets of morning dew,
watching the moss green carpet
stretch to catch each drop.
She painted nature's floral bouquet,
and they happily, danced in the breeze.
Her landscape, soon became a work of art.
A scenic wonder, that soon brought the bees,
Who busily, flew from flower to flower
tasting each, nectar filled blossom.
They happily flew to the hive and back,
Bringing excitement over the floral find.
The flowers continued to flourish under,
the fine painters hand.