Long Flint Poems
Long Flint Poems. Below are the most popular long Flint by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flint poems by poem length and keyword.
This is the bomb! Wait until you
Here you will read hear about the
Tick of tock of tick the clock is
Gone lawn the mow now show
The glow a phone it groans.
Then moans
Time it is almost to the hour now
The bombs have dropped the plot
Thickens and rots
Now what but WAIT! The gates
Are locked! Hot trot slots sure shots
Casinos we know get rich quick
Schemes we know. What the WORLDS!?
We have the pearls. Unfurl reload
The goal? Unload gun load here we
Go you know the GOLD! it has slivers
Of silver. I confess I digress. Do not
Be BOLD your blood can shed.
Though you might not Ever dream
But muse and know deep think
Contemplate visit a shrink yeah
Concentrate if you must do not
Trust all that you see but believe
Some dreams to be reality, which
You think you see, do not believe
Only some will dream the daze
Away figuring to think on, long.
Forward on to the path of what
You believe to be real. All of those
Fascinating fluctuating facts you
Think you have? hear is the deal.
It is not real. So I say hey how have
You not known this throne round
Golden glorious crown I have found
On sacred ground. I have found
I have found! I can here the echoes
Of the Tick tock tick the clock is
Here the block is bare. I ask why
And where and bone Crushing FEAR!
You are scared? You dare not be
FEIRCE? SPEAK your WORTH while
You are on this earth do your best
And confess your worst thirst. On
This sphere this here yeah! Do no
HARM here the WORD! you your
Selves be heard with freer there
Then the Sun flares it glares then burst the
Glint and flint a spark forlorn first
Gong the bell tolls something is
Wrong! So since nothing else Amiss.
First the munch of lunch. A brunch
Bunch bun. I fill my girth. It is TIME.
The clock chimes DO NO HARM!
The bombs fall blistering all.
Oh! DETINATION! DESTINATION!
Complete DEVASTATING Fluxlng
DESTRUCTION! frightening furious
Flames absorb everything Nothing!
Nothing! At all REMAINS the Whole
Hearted horror of HUMANITY!
AAAAH HAA the TREACHERY!
Those schemes the will that be.
The alarm to late. HUMANITY is
Gone tick of tock the clock has
Stopped. NOTHING NOTHING AT
ALL NOTHING! REMAINS!
REMAINS! REMAINS! REMAINS!
AT ALL REMAINS! REMAINS!... remains.
NOTHING!
where is the LOVE LOVE
LOVE?!!
Was this a dream? Became a
NIGHTMARE?
You made up your mind to view the world
With different eyes —eyes recessed, eyes inundated with lustre,
Straining to catch every flight of the dancing seasons that hurled
Man and beast beyond frontiers with baluster.
You are the town-crier of our time, delivering messages printed on banners
That hail the energy of the heated earth.
What a voice you possess! So smooth and euphonious, it rings loud and clear
With the gumption of a king’s augurer, leaving behind manners
That haunt us pleasantly with bliss and mirth,
Suggesting frantically the suavity of a seer
Journalism has come to judgement, fragmented by words and the eloquence
Of time and grace. Are you not equal to the task?
The world admits you certainly are! And with supreme relevance
Your disciples are many, Dear one, flaunting the mask
Of imitation — they litter the world like tiny red beads flung and scattered
Beyond boundaries stretching from sea to coast
You are a lover of words, speaking with valour even on the arcades
Of fright, charming viewers with the powers of gathered
Attention when rainy nights and dewy mornings boast
Loudly of integrated existence of cascades
An anointed raconteur you are, reeling off tale after tale
By moonlight of cosseted playgrounds
I assume you frequented gatherings, prelapsarian, on a scale
So great that the sage spoke on select backgrounds
How do you do it?
Do you burn candles with scented tallow, and without
Need of a flint —thus reluming primitively dark alleyways?
You are the light that shines on tenebrous path and grit,
Revealing fey monsters responsible for the drought
That burned the pennants of truth posted on archways.
I never before knew an institution of mass communication
Until the bright age of running news crowned your labours
By way of a universally attended coronation
The world attributes to you the favours
Of heavens and caverns of Eudemons.
Arise, Dear One, arise and claim your special flair,
Make noise with the reeds of the Nile and dance gracefully
As you dine on stewed cinnamons
Rest assured you’re deeply blessed, Dear one with a dare;
I assure you mightily, speaking faithfully.
Mince Meat Pie No Lie
Oh great! Found that some guy forgot to stipulate
How he knows people hate to wait or set a date
Important enough and already been accentuated
And, would you believe, destroyed, defecated and then defalcated.
Then you had arrived at the problem that could possibly be
While she really scarred the heck out of you as well as me
It happened to be Hillary wearing a wise old owl disguise
Found in boxes bond for Bombay much to my surprise.
She had a not only great idea but one which was ingenious
Like and old oscillating owl had a face being the meanest
And after be shown and while looking at it day by day
Someone started to toot and trump song saying stay away (Not no way Jose'.)
Next thing we found was owls only fly in a single formidable formation
Not knowing if it was done out of inspiration or desolate desperation
After having been found flying over Flint looking for water to be drinking
That is when this itty bitty troubled owl really started to thinking.
Water color seemed so cruddy and glass stood singular and all alone
On shelf while many makeshift people would moan and groan
Which is when Hillary had come up with another idea being so wild
What if we were to begin conducting an experiment of each child.
On their each table several glasses of water they would start to place
To see that when each one would drink who made strangest, oddest face
Then again oddly enough researchers data they did determine to decipher
Answers to questions and observations children had handed over to offer.
Now why would any maniac or moron ever try to seem and become so mean
Who had abused their own bodies and no longer were a health food fiend
Then with their own selves, education and experience became entranced
At abundance of cruddy urine color running down each poor baby's pants.
Franticly and finally many ill-advised answers they had come across
What was decided is that all of it and whole thing had created a lost cause
And after many words were thought of, brought together and they would mince
Those who have minds mixing with their water will meet with lower intelligence.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Like everything else of course there always has to be a catch
Prerequisite for reading this is imagination being able to stretch.
Drop picture till six
The land like Pokémon kills
Nearing a tornado’s kiss?
Lift picture to three
The earth seems a lot different
And looks extreme wilderness!
Turn picture upward
Rapid rivers dash inward
Floods hit mountains and stumble!
See Ottoman cries!
Its history in Palestine
Breaks loudly a hurting cry!
Until the see twirls
Syrian shores to Lake Err!
In one tsunami fits in!
Turn picture around
Look at it from the back side
Night time is facing big sigh!
Walk around clockwise
Walk around counter clock’s wise
What’s the difference at bright?
Look carefully at
While standing behind that
Her shoulders and her two arms
South America?
Thirst for the Atlantic’s tap
See a side face that had trapped?
Is there another mountain?
Leaking black gas surrounding
Happy carnival, walking?
See the dancing sleeves?
While wild fire nears the streets
On her leaning arm as seen?
The plate is moving!
South America swimming?
The south is wetting valleys!
Would waters sink in?
Reaching Amazon’s region
From the forest’s province?
Incline her to three
See volcano born from sea?
Crafting her right cheek’s sad fear?
Is it Gibraltar?
Suddenly speaks, spreads horror
Causing Mona Lisa’s shock?
Tilt her down to six
See Morocco’s beaches quick?
Nearing the west in a blink?
Or causing that lint
To near Africa’s dark flint?
Marrying mounts in a blink?
Prop to quarter till
Watch! The height of the waves bring
Over Mona’s head curving!
Prop her upward to
See again what had done to
See fire rocks drop next to!
Is she hugging babe?
Alive or faint but looks dead?
Leaning on her charm screen scared?
She’s holding a rose!
Or holding one stem of corn?
Looks like child’s hand overall!
Near a villager’s
Boat on top of the mountain
Does sail or drifts to go float?
But, a pyramid
More likely to look amid
Mountain tops and gardens’ bits!
Spin picture right this
Minute, a serpent showing
Behind two wed couples’ kiss!
Aruba under
Her nose moving to northeast
Survives a great flood beneath!
Walk ahead the screen
See Mona is still weeping
For two thousand twelve... searching!
By: Nadia F. Shahwan – April 2009. Note: This is an innocent discovery to analyze the
beauty of the famous Mona Lisa by Van Gogh.
Padraig's Fire
Hurry!
Hurry through the night
With windstorms
Breathing at your back
Before the shadows know
You pass their doors -
Their darkened, dusty, empty hearths -
Before the dawn ascends -
Before the pipes awaken;
Carry close
Precious flint and tinder
Next to the wildly beating
Warmth -
Beneath your flowing cape.
Hurry!
Hurry down the rolling path,
Rising up to meet your feet,
Sweetly caressing your rushing steps,
Passing sentinels
Of ancient oaks,
Graveyards
Where primeval elms once stood,
That guard a narrow door
Of the river Boyne
Watching over Tara's keep
In a valley of wild rushing eddies
Shedding superstitions
Restraining deep planted longings.
Hurry!
No faire voices invitation;
Only life, held out in promises,
Beckons pilgrims here -
Pass through the numbing chill
Going down to rise up
Past myths
Into inviting aires and covenants;
Pass through the chill of seperation;
Pass through the swirling current
Gripping to release sandaled feet;
Hold high the flint and tinder
Then rest within the hollows of a hand
In quiet glens of grace.
Listen!
Listen for the kerry drums
Pounding welcome in swirling reels -
Ancient dances -
Reawakened from Adam's time
Released from sleep to circle round and round
While sparks from glowing tinder,
Brought to life from sharpened flint,
Battle winds of haunted years
That lived in isolation
Pulling up from fiery spindles flaming whorls -
New and paschal fire returning;
Circles meeting circles thunder
In death's shattering death.
Listen!
Listen as the moan of banshees
Banishes forever winter's touch
To see the sleeping hills
Shake off an exiled life
And hear the harps - uilleann pipes,
Newborn visions
Watch the wind dance of the kells begin
With towering fireworks
Shooting up from the valley floor
In rhythm to the bohdran and the tiompan
To seek completeness
In the hotly glow of dawning -
Vernal offerings in emerald fire.
Arise!
Arise to cradle emerald fire
Dreaming ever softly
In fields of clover
And timeworn stones,
Witnesses
To the arrival of winnowing flames
When centuries embraced
Again
Until the days remembering
Final meals and crosses - a waiting tomb -
Blesses once again
The quest of hard flint and soft tender
Before a cross - life within a circle.
...A jolt ran though the broken men,
like wraiths they rose, streamed for the door,
Gobayth waved them on until
nobody remained anymore.
They raced on towards the small hut
where all of the pick-aces lay,
some guards were starting to notice,
running about every which way.
Gobayth wished the poor men luck,
but he did not follow their path,
and instead ran to the side gate
the guards used to go out and back.
It was little more than a door,
and Gobayth figured these keys
might just be what could open it,
one of them did, and he was free!
He heard the fight behind him race,
but raced toward the stables dark,
ducked low as two guards raced by,
the sight nearly stopping his heart.
He slipped in and grabbed a lean horse,
didn’t bother with a saddle,
rode it out and cantered northwards,
by the stars, through night, he travelled.
Come day he hid in deep forest,
usually laying low by a stream,
he’d eat whatever he could find,
then make ground under the moon’s beams.
Several days brought him to the moors,
the great, rolling plains of his youth,
he wanted to cry out in joy,
but came to see a brutal truth.
The grass was blackened, turned to ash,
only some young seedlings poked through,
fire had consumed everything,
at least everything in his view.
He saw no horses, cattle, goats,
no herds ambling through their home,
but as he pushed on he soon saw
scattered heaps on animal bones,
And further still, charred, half-burn tools,
seared rawhide, skeletal ten frames,
whole families were set ablaze,
very little of them remained.
He rode to where his family
usually grazed this time of year,
the landscape didn’t change that much,
his stomach was a knot of fear.
Then he found a burnt-up lodgepole,
a falcon totem on the top,
the metal bird, his family’s crest…
Gobayth’s heart and reason stopped.
Around the site were scattered bones,
picked over by the scavengers,
what remained of the ones he loved,
Which were his sisters? His mother’s?
On the bones he saw deep sword-cuts,
this hadn’t just been the fire,
people had killed them where they stood,
a massacre had transpired.
He searched the grass around the site,
trying to find some sort of trace,
he found a broken, steel spearpoint,
the kind the Black Flint people made…
CONCLUDES IN PART VI.
Well, get up on time,
See your days pass by.
Don’t ask questions,
To leaders of suppression.
Cause court is in session.
Obey this do that,
When you go out,
Don't wear hood or hat.
Ah, eat more Tyson food
City gave us a candle,
Ask for a meal, they might be in a good mood.
Lights, camera, action,
Fake your true reaction.
College teaching us
Basic subtraction,
Wondering if it’s all distraction
To what we love to do
Ah, sulfates in shampoo
Don’t complain about
Government voodoo
Whatever you do
Whatever you see
Don’t take it too personally.
Cause you might change the world
May do what they don't want you to.
Might abolish greed,
And you might uproot their evil seed.
Ads littered on t.v.
It’s bait for the hook
Crooks stalking my Facebook
Someone’s in a fight,
But people enjoy and look look look.
Well, Billy threw up
That corn syrup.
Read your schoolbooks and shut-up.
Rise for the anthem,
Rise for the pastor,
Labeled dumb for not
Thinking faster.
Sally resisted two faced authorities.
Cells are filled with innocent minorities.
Ah, preach it on hills
Lights flashing in Area 51,
They shut down my windmill
I’m faced with a giant and my ammo equals none.
How is my grandson gonna live?
If all he does is forgive
Those who take and do not give?
I’m staying home today,
To relax and pray.
Ah but GMO is in my fruit.
Saw a man trade his soul for a nice suit.
Hypocrites smile with snakes in their boots.
Ben came home with black eye
Then left his mama without a goodbye.
Mamas sittin on the porch only to cry
For her son who is now getting high.
Last week he was a victim in a driveby.
Read all about it in the news.
Single mother of none in suburban town of blues.
Little girl taken in an alleyway,
Policemen said they'll find her another day
Unless the parents have money to pay,
You won't be seein her face, hey!
Little girl grew up hangin by street corners,
Asking for one night for only four quarters.
Meanwhile in Flint Michigan
The water is polluted brown but they ain't listenin,
So the citizens are thirstin’
For some hydration.
Metals in their water
While the mayor counts his dollars
The governors apologize
But it's just more lies.
Read all about it in the news,
Truth is kept hidden in suburban town of blues.
fertilization upon ovule
via spermatozoa automatically
gearing linkedin anticipated birth
especially upon confirmation conception
did sex seed
after numerous attempts dispelled dearth
as probable odds
finally wrought hardy sea men
to stoke the womb
spelling biological chances
that, fecund female will evince swollen girth
the longest time tested oven since humans
found warmth
amidst flint stoned sparked hearth
and fraught with utmost joy
at prospective parent hood
which, (lemme here
collective soulful sigh of relief)
that *****Sapiens
durability foretold tubby good
thenceforth extra mouth
to feed necessitated larder of food
which harvests
must be plenti full to appease gods,
and bank on siblings
to beget appreciable brood
hence existence extant for millennia
fastened tight like umbilical cord
sustaining potential life in utero
in due time dilating cervix will a ford
signal (predicated on natural bio rhythms),
whence that cub hoard will be a saving grace
(amazingly innate survival skills) noel lord
could ever conceive,
an instinctual attribute moored
within early forebears of modern mankind,
an explicit genetic haversack
microscopically pitch perfect (NON GMO,
gluten free trade) blend poured
with just the exact consistency,
flexibility, and resiliency
(in case a lion, tiger or bear roared)
as adrenaline pumped woman within family way
to escape let incubating progeny shored
when time and tide informed clandestine
cherished, fortified, prized oh ward
whence healthy birth of baby feted,
festooned with garlands engineered ahead
reflecting golden halo
akin to a ring of bright waters
thence new born and maternal figure
ferreted nested in feathered bed
which, didst double up when dread
locked spar ring human,
whence grim reaper got fed
another mortal, which body froze
with rigor mortis heavier like a led
zeppelin versus when person alive in stead
no heroic measures extant
when grim reaper came quick
advent chore of early primates could not treat nor trick
the scythe lent hooded body snatcher
as candle box didst flickr
burning down tallowed wick.
I’d like too invite all to be my guest
a dine of mindfulness and rhyme digest
a week of conflict now victory blessed
standing united to silence a pest
Since the last time you heard from me I was banned again
ran my mouth and pen and stand condemned
taking a time out as the site suspended
yet always polite to poets I’ve befriended
In my lifetime of few consistences
a sucker for trouble
not designed for resistance
never stuck in a bubble
don’t run nor crumble
my back’s up I stand tall
I’m one for the rumble
not decided but natural
I’m an alpha with a non fictional reaction
I can’t stray from friction I give it back to ‘em
They flint
I flame
retardants
don’t reign
Even with intense insistence I’m risky
back and forth witty hits get me frisky
I’m Jack Daniels confrontation’s whiskey
and as it ascends force
whistling me wolf
I submit my thoughts
with all above board
but as the war gets me bored
within my core recycled and restored
enemy amo pours out below par
firing missiles I go to far
through lost remorse
this one track horse
gallops the course
with overwhelming force
only to fail care and I fall where I fell before
Standing up squarely
Cus nobody scares me
then punished unfairly
cus I ain’t no fairy
Deemed out of line
as I mouth my mind
blow for blow with swines
or write down rhymes
I’ve got one finger for sign language
knowing 5 fold in flight damage
You’re not the first to run me down
I’m not one to get the boys around
“I know a lot of people” not my threat
get me vexed I come direct
Others rely on their made up crew
not me though mate I come straight for you
One minute you’re coming calling me chump
the next minute running Forest Gump
I’ve never experienced intimidated slumps
the altercation ignition leads me to jump
start the motor ticks, over being a victim
insults thrown deflect don’t sink in
get thrown back with hurt inflicting
stand his ground does Nick Trim
Will call us HMS Victory and him the birds eye on a French deck,
one cannon ball later he’s drenched in a shipwreck
So thanks to the soupers standing with me,
the victory with us not he,
again I say soupers standing with me
are the ones standing victoriously
POSESSION
The astral priest saw that the time had come
To finally invoke an Aztec god,
He left his family and Friends behind
To go to Tlaxcala on the day of the wind
To call Quetzalcoatl with bone flute and drum.
Then when Venus shone through a lens
On a shattered stone ruin six hundred years old,
He stood by high columns engraved
With scenes from the lives of the gods,
The moon glinting occultly on onyx and gold.
His feathered cape and the jaguar mask
He wore began moving all on their own,
The eagle claws strapped to his wrist
Shook with anger, with passion and pride.
The Lady of the Serpent Skirts
Howled in the bowels of limestone caves,
And in the hall of Smoking Mirrors
Tezcatlipoca took aim at the Sun.
Double-headed feathered serpents
Coiled about the calender stone,
And even the pavement ‘pon which he stood
Rang with the spells of ancient wizards.
Then to his shock a crackle of lightning
Leapt up his spine and burst in his brain,
And then the hot fire assaulting his nerves
Sent him convulsing with terror and joy.
The god was demanding, he urged the priest
To climb out of his skin and leap into flame,
To cook his heart well as a meal for the gods,
To break all his limits - surrender at once
To waste not a second, but ride the tornado,
To seize the anaconda and tame it with a glance,
To penetrate flint with his fingers and eyes
To enter volcanoes and dance on the boiling
Magma within the Earth’s orange cleft,
To be at once an atom and star,
To see all Space as the ground of Being.
And then to fall screaming into the Abyss.
From somewhere out of the silence came drumming,
The drumming of shamans invoking spirits,
Guardian spirits of wolves and crows
Gathering round to aid the priest.
And then at last he knew whence the drumming,
Just the rain pounding the roof of his skull.
Lightning lit a fire
And drifting off to sleep the flames revealed
Quetzalcoatl and Tezcatlipoca
Fought their way through thirteen hells.
Their warriors, the Eagle and the Jaguar knights,
Exchanged obsidian butterflies.
The feathers wafting in the wind
Became the crimson clouds at dawn.
A cool scented breeze caressed his neck,
Raindrops gleamed on a spider’s web,
Sunlight filled the turquoise sky.