Long Footfalls Poems
Long Footfalls Poems. Below are the most popular long Footfalls by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Footfalls poems by poem length and keyword.
Wandering in my darkness of soul
the city cries like a wounded animal
the sky wears a bruised dusk, half-forgotten.
Neon veins pulse through pavement cracks
a river of headlights bleeding into fog
I am lost between the spaces where voices collide
and images recedes
each syllable, a jagged tone
skipping across the river of night.
Crowds move like carrion in cannons
I cannot swim; my eyes grow dim
faces drawn in brushstrokes
of black & white & blood
the air smells like October’s rain
damp with the weight
of all that’s left unsaid.
Concrete whispers under heavy footfalls
orchestrions of solitude
that no one else hears
a city's heartbeat
erratic n harsh
my shadow grows thin
reaching for something
I cannot behold.
Billboards blink, die & burn
something flies above promises
in payment of pavement
too bright, searing
while the ground pulls me apart
eyes open wide shut
to catch my crawl.
Here, in the half-light
streetlights flicker, I fall
wind curls into hollow corners
I vanish between breaths
of a city that never notices
and neither do you.
In the darkness of my soul...
It was a new year's party
Footfalls of the cups and glasses
Dances of the eyes and tongue
The time swung with the music
She wore a light pink lipstick
A lithe body of twenty
A handndsome cascade in the eyes
Time forgot to fly
Across the table
Sat a young man of about twenty one
The brilliant eyes there and then won
Her thoughts
The river and the yacht
The conversation spurred
Further invitations and meets
For the hungry heartbeats
They got married
One day in the evening
Were into a starry swing
Under the dream-filled stars
He talked of the Venus and Mars
Mentioned the milkyway and black holes
Adjusted the rose in the buttonhole
She recited Eliot under the oak and chestnut
The time rippling in the two pink huts
Just a few weeks later
When he was about to unveil the nature
Looking into the time and space
Amazed at its grace
To find out
If God really did not play
The dice with the universe
He was diagnosed with a deadly disease
She stood by refusing to be daunted
We will not allow it to be terminal
She was emphatic
As in the wheel chair
He would amble
Though the doctors gave no more than
Three years of life
The river resolved
To stand by the desert
The chlorophyll by the grey leaves
Eyes keeping close watch on the disease
She pieced together the broken sun
Aggregate of many a moment of the nun
Weaving his tattered confidence
With the wools of warm love for the husband
A fragrance of the garden
The home and family
Rested exclusively on her shoulders
Though overwhelmed
They carried out the responsibility
Ungrudginly
The disease relented
Its progress slackened
The stars in the night sky celebrated
The togetherness unbridled
He travelled on
From the summit to the next summit
Done it, she exclaimed
________________________________________________________
March 21, 2018
Together we are strong - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Note : As I was not personally involved in what happened, I understand the poem might not fit into the frame of the sponsor. Still considering the strength of the togetherness highlighted in the poem I am entering it for the contest
The footfalls of Fate
pursue love and hate
through the echoes of silence.
And leave surreal
footprints hearts can feel
from kindness to violence.
Fate creeps up on you
and nothing you do
can alter its progression.
Fate leads, you follow:
it chews, you swallow,
even dregs of depression.
Each muted miscall
or misplaced footfall,
blazes trails dreamers pursue.
Fate forges a path
through glory and wrath:
leaving each choice up to you.
You must face Fate blind;
whether harsh or kind,
lavish or ugly and stark.
Fate is seldom fair,
shapeshifting out there:
like a shadow in the dark.
I approach the wooded trails and hear nothing save for my footfalls crunching in the soft snow. It is the kind of winter day that even a feather falls without drifting one way or the other. The trees stand straight, tall, and silent, their branches appearing as if they’ve been painted there. The water in the nearby stream is crystal clear and motionless, reflecting the cloudless morning sky. It was still, utterly still.
crystal waters flow
reflecting winter’s stillness
peaceful Christmas scene
Copyright © Sara Etgen-Baker | Year Posted 2023
A loud string of clear down-slurred two-parted whistles reach my ear. There is a little red cardinal tucked between thick foliage. Its an architectural beauty, an inquest. He looks at me with two round eyes then shows me a circular world made up of silence and noise. We are standing on a precipice of the Sacred. A unanimous ground holding space with Nature, Creature & Human, alike.
winter evergreens
snapshot of a Cardinal
perched on my nightstand
Journey Journal Page
OLDE SJI BRAS BASAH ROAD, 1971
By Leon Enriquez
Morning Glory
Florals on a fence
Violet blooms beauty
Plain in sparkling sense
Olde school field
By Bras Basah Road
Boys and football yield
To dawn’s purple load
~~~~~~~~~
Dawn now brings
Such sparkling creepers
Olde tints of fond flings
Such transient flowers
We recall
Days of yesterday
Sounds of lost footfalls
Echoes of school days
~~~~~~~~~
For a while
Till that harsh sun burns
Faded dying smiles
To the earth return
Brief your tale
On the dusty road
Yet your truth avails
Of brief surreal loads
~~~~~~~~~
Now here we
Go on our way there
To visit and see
To be yet nowhere
Old men think
Upon times now gone
Laughter on verge brink
Olde days and lost dawns
~~~~~~~~~
Lost school daze
Dribbling on that field
Our cheeky fond craze
Olde time humour yields
For a while
You and I and all
Taste feel and try smiles
To pile sweet and gall
~~~~~~~~~
Olde school grounds
Memory lane thoughts
New cityscape bounds
Olde souls recall lots
Lost yet found
Olde echoes call out
Floral fence abound
Hear sunny glee pout
~~~~~~~~~
Here by grace
Each to each olde souls
Journey quest we trace
Incomplete yet whole
By the way
A restless wit primes
Just another day
Grateful for our time
~~~~~~~~~
Those days tint
Our old boys’ refrain
Violet floral hints
On the rail fence strain
Morning Glory
Let’s not live in vain
But seed love’s fancy
As light sparkles plain
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
05 January 2024
Singapore
When Death comes knocking at the door,
And as the last petal finally falls,
My voice will be stilled.
My heart, now ticking off like a clock,
Will ever be silent.
My footfalls shall no more be heard
All my songs will be stifled in the throat
All my crazy thoughts will be frozen,
And I shall take leave of all
And the whole lot of petty things I hold dear.
But what difference does it make?
The earth will continue to spin as before.
Stars will illumine the night sky.
Days will follow days in endless succession.
Time, chanting refrains of joy and sorrow,
On wings, shall fly to destinations unknown.
Will there be anyone to grieve my absence?
Will my loved ones still hold me close to their hearts?
May be for a while
A short little while.
But as years glide,
And my tomb lies overgrown with weeds
And the engraving on my head stone
Fades out into morbid grime and moss,
When I merge with the dust as dust,
When I lie inert, a rattling heap of bones under the sod,
When my spirit still hovers around in vain
With insatiable longing for all your love,
Then give me, my Lord! A ride in your chariot!
Remove from my spirit the languor of endless waiting!
Carry me to Thy bosom!
Embalm me with Thy love,
That I shall no more crave for earthly love
And with you in bliss, ever united,
Look down evermore content-
As the wheels roll down to Eternity!
Island of Fantasy
She sits
an island of fantasy
amid the breakage of the past
adrift in altered visions
wishfully meandering
manic melancholy
Windblown debris masquerades
as fluttering birds
church towers howl
mimics distant train whistle
scrape of swinging metal gate
becomes gleeful shriek of children
scuffling footfalls in the shadows
a lover's coming home
Cool touch of evening rain
cold end to fantasy
she rises
leaves her island
shuffles over broken time
to sit on the edge
of reality.
6/10/2016
submitted to – Island of Fantasy – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Nayda Ivette Negron
Faraway Footsteps
How present
This past
Called memory
Hollow sole dragging
Hobnail boots
Caked with crud
Mud
And oil
Atop the landing
"Drop them greasy clothes"
Came the sometimes loving voice
The sometimes malevolent voice
But always his wife's warning
My mother's caring way
So many years past
When linoleum's impoverished sound
Is so remembered
Stepping from stove to table
Her laboring hands
Hefting the pressure cooker
Laden with steam softened cracked wheat
Barely eatable
That day's nourishment
Weighing upon
Forever toiling legs
Cushioned by sheepskin slippers
Whispering their shuffled prayer
I care
Generously ladled
Chew-your-brain-loose grains
Fit for health
Unfit for a kid
Layered my stomach
Fortified my heart
Prepped me abler
To gather reverie
So dear
Then
There was the sound
So ethereal
Heavenly I was told
Of bare feet
Curling the once-a-day-vacuumed
Pride and joy carpet of sage green wool
Replacing recently vanquished
Throw rug jigsaw mess
My early youth played upon
Our palace place
The living room
Scrunching pleasures
Toes lapping up that carpet
Dad's feet
Awful specimens
Calloused of years hard labor
Mother's feet
Preserved with nightly hot water soaks
Epson salts
When we could afford it
Worthy of pedicure
Never afforded
Me
Always wore my socks
Heavy wool
Darned when worn spots
Yelled loud enough
Mixed colors
When necessary
Yet always comfy
Homey
Loving covers
For footsteps
Unaware of the journey ahead
When steps would have to become strides
Leaps
Bounds
And eventually
Idleness
So present
These footfalls of then
Becoming echoes
Foreshadowing paces to come
When a once stubborn child
Needed to listen carefully
Or miss the lessons
Still offered today
From faraway footsteps
Passing near by
Slowly in the dark street I walk.
My footfalls echo with emptiness.
Black shadows lay across my path.
Closed windows like eyes see nothing.
This way I walked has found its end.
Now into a square I've come.
Across its vacancy many ways doth go.
To be walked together hand in hand.
My path across goes to nowhere.
I just walk there by myself.
I walk tonight no place to go.
Wandering I know not where.
I have no aim my dreams are gone.
The star I followed has plunged down.
Once it was the brightest star.
Once then my dreams knew no bounds.
Then I walked and knew the way.
Each moment has like a day.
Now she's gone I know not why.
Now alone I can only cry.
I wish the tears could wash away,
the dark gloom that hides the day.
Hides the noon that we met.
Hides the joy and love we had.
Hides the memory of how it was.
Now she gone I know not why.
russia ukraine war
soldiers braving unending attacks
dead alive civilians braving unending attacks
like sino-india war,preparing for the inevitable
blood rain on trees resound
salute to the martyr ghost of the kiev
soldiers braving unending attacks
dead alive civilians braving unending attacks
like sino-india war,preparing for the inevitable
soil has turned blood soaked soil
footfalls on soil resound
salute to the martyr ghost of kiev
soldiers braving unending attacks
dead alive civilians braving unending attacks
like sino-india war preparing for the inevitable
river is a blood river
constant tides resound
salute to the martyr ghost of kiev
soldiers braving unending attacks
dead alive civilians braving unending attacks
like sino-india war,preparing for the inevitable