Long Fowl Poems
Long Fowl Poems. Below are the most popular long Fowl by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fowl poems by poem length and keyword.
what if this was a different world
in a different time. a different diminsion
a different rhyme, a different reality
a different dream, a different country
a different scene, a different feeling
a different theme, a different crime
a different deed, a different God
a different creed. what if
all these variables
served to make one thing
and wars and making love
all part of the very same scheme
when nature joins with the classics
to make one scream. and that scream
what would it be? what would it be?
it would be what God still screams
I AM,I AM, I AM AND I AM!
i am a woman and i am a man
i am a sojourner in a distant land
from where i have come i have traveled far
from just an ideal, from just a star
from a philosophy, from a dream
from a book, from a king
from a necessity, and even greed
from eipihany, from a seed
from heaven, and from hell
from science and magical spell
I AM I AM AND I STILL AM!
from the powers that be, listen to me.
from traditions forging principalities
from dominions given men and angels
from the throne that see's from every angle
to man, to whom the angels bow
to the beast, fish and fowl
to all the angels that God did allow
I AM THAT I AM THAT I AM!
As I drew closer to the bedroom door,
through keyhole I peeked as I knelt on the floor.
And there she lay on a bed soft as clouds,
with barely a shadow to act as a shroud.
Quietly I crept while she peacefully slept,
a picture of beauty, I took and I kept.
I was sure not to wake her, I would not dare,
from her wonderful dreams, never to tear.
I wondered what dream she would choose to keep,
a token taken from a sleep so deep.
To interrupt my heart would not allow,
just nearing and peering like circling fowl.
Suddenly I touched her, I could not resist,
she awoke startled, clawed me and hissed.
Then Fluffy the cat scurried under the bed
and I had to snuggle with a pillow instead.
1/1/19
O Grappa, goddess dregs of corpus grapes,
Distillate "digsetivo", whole must press,
Fond draught that spirits my carnal escape
From temperate gods, religions of less.
Your cruel "corretto" beguiled my hand
That morning to revel’s most fowl besmirch;
To suffer more grapes, you told me your plan
And the monks found me "morto" in church.
Turns out your proof laid me far less than quick
On the moors now banished to soiled quaffs,
Where claims I vanished in a pomace thick
Pisses my usurers quite rightly off.
Ah…to steep in more of her woody shoots
I do whilst eschewing the bastard brutes.
Countless generations lapsed since height of Greco-Roman mythology conceived, birthed and populated vast canopy of sky and expanse of terrestrial firmament, whereat obeisant propinquity quintessentially remains stalwart this day and age as guise dolls dote demonstrably come Valentine’s Day, when Cupid plucked from the quiver, notched in bowstring and launched Eros tinged arrow induces love struck swain to swoon upon a lassie faire, whence fecund female feast proliferates progeny.
Yours truly not necessarily romantic at heart
more accurately methinks myself
lame and inadequate sorry excuse
for reasonably rhyming spouse,
but courtesy after sipping
(née - chugging away
like snorting caboose)
Welch's sparkling white grape juice
accompanied with entree couscous
generic and garden variety
run of the mill by the floss husband
ordinarily fancy free and footloose
feigned being inebriated
noisily squawking - imitating
deafening honking lunging goose
creating ruckus whereby resultant outcome,
whereby wife playfully threatened me
to hang me (all choking aside) with noose,
(I needed to gibbet a chance)
as ye can accurately dead deuce
nearly turning unnatural shade of chartreuse,
thus I immediately called truce
after hiring team of animated experts
Rocky the squirrel
and Bullwinkle the moose.
Ring with no feather in my cap only envy
at handsome man drakes with bucks,
who could bank on "hot chicks" willingly
aligned in arrow emitting clucks
fluffing their respective tail feathers amidst
loud squawking out quacking,
yet straight as an arrow nock king,
establishing pecking order like ducks,
or any other foxy fowl billetted
within walled din noisy hen house
preening, each be solder self flux
sing wings and waddling, flirting, casting...
webbed wide good lucks
They move, quick and sure,
In a line, they cross the road
Like short, grey gentlemen
The noise that protests
Screeching vigilantly, violently
Like a relentless cough
Echoes on the edges of fences
That edge the pastures
They savor the ticks and mosquitoes
Lingering a little at the puddle
Caused by a hard rain just yesterday
The candor that gives them
Almost a enchanted demeanor
Causes the turkeys and chickens to flush
Bright rose, like the musical feel
That appeals to the senses
Who listen quietly to their screaming
They hunt for nests in the woods
Searching forest floor for green grass
That will hold the hard shells of their babies
The miracle isn’t in the way they play
A melody of ear-piercing music
But in the way they seem to share
Their moments of wisdom
With fowl, both hen and turkey
Their prudence is more clever
Than they are aware of
They are speedy, wise birds
Who know their place on the farm
Fill the silence with shrieks of merriment
The guineas are both fast and full
Of musical laughter that color the fields
In pale gold with emerald edges
Softening the breath of those who know
These wise hens cast a shadow
Of pure peace with their charmed cries
They are the life of the farm
A piece of poetry on the grange
Welcoming guests to feel their grace
Lion 'bout grabbing tiger by tail
Holy mole lee
watch out fowl, balladeer
look out... i.e. donkey kong
primate doth share
footloose slothful writing,
essentially swiftly tailored hare
reed styled mountebank
gets made by mice elf,
an imperfect triangulated square,
while "fake" charioteer
looses neigh scent horsesense
glomming "fake" papier
mâché piñata across animal planet
rhyme without reason,
nonetheless who doth dare
dovish and/or hawkish
elk quint lee otter vamoose
double, triple, quadruple... dare
to caw meow ta
as silence rings loud and clear
ja hiss don't miss snake
pig in a poke hogtied
sow owl only tell ya beware
me dogged holy cow
cuckoo bird harebrained
effort won't impair
corpus collosum, where
seat of thinker housed
fortunately ye ant near
my neck of the woods here
Schwenksville cuz after
innocuous, impetuous, illustrious...
brainstorming deluge... glare
til hearts content
with nostrils that flare
lemming just be reel
regarding rocky mission
opossum bull, I swear
dogged bonafide effort
thanks ocelot to bear
with beetle browed toadying
off fish hill who accidently
didst entrap and snare
courtesy hook line and sinker
masterly baited metaphorical
Earthworm dangling cyber air
coon sitter me batty
Ass sin nine, I admittedly duck lear,
but don't badger me, Noah
ark confess with prayer
yak see no porpoise here.
In the tranquil beauty of nature's art,
Lies a world of wonder that fills the heart.
From the soaring peaks to the rolling seas,
There's a majesty that leaves us all at ease.
The forests whisper in a gentle breeze,
Their leaves rustling to a melody that frees
The mind from worries, the soul from pain,
And guides us to a peace we can attain.
The mountains stand tall, majestic and grand,
Their peaks piercing the sky, a sight so grand.
Their rugged beauty, their silent grace,
A testament to nature's wondrous face.
The rivers flow on, a soothing sound,
Their waters clear, their banks abound
With life in every form, from fish to fowl,
A harmony that nature doth endow.
The sunsets blaze with a fiery hue,
Their colors melding, an ever-changing view.
The sky alight with shades of gold and red,
A breathtaking sight, a memory to be wed.
Nature's bounty, so rich and true,
A gift to us, forever new.
Its wonders beckon us to explore,
And find the beauty that we adore.
When I was eight
I knew Paradise could not be merely secular humane
and yet be kind
and omnipotently divine
when a Great Horned Owl
breathed her last sacred breath toward me,
left alone
while she flew away
to where I would poorly follow
in my robust adult time.
It took me eight cycles of octave eight
to realize why
Paradise must include safe nests for diverse fowl,
politically
and ecologically cooperative seas
flowing complex schools of graceful fish
and surf's bilateral co-gravity
flowing out here
and ebbing in now
breathing Earth's healthy paradise past
and wealth-empowering future
polyamorous eternity.
Because an anthropocentric Paradise
would be monolithically,
and monotonously,
and monotheistically oxymoronic,
a scientifically and religiously ridiculous
metaphysical nightmare,
not ecologically sustainable,
not psychologically palatable
not even harmonically healthy potential paradise
because not synergetically
polyphonically
polypathically
polyculturally
or polytheistically healthy
wealth of peak co-empathic experience
regeneratively compelling
and degeneratively disspelling
economically enlightened
and politically empowering
co-intelligent empathic/dyspeptic
polytheistically inclusive
indigenous wisdom design.
Every polyvagal body knows
Heaven begins and ends
in an organically holistic
and politically democratic
globally healthy Earth Garden
with zero-balanced waste wealth stream
and nonzero-soul kind-kin potential
panentheistic elegant integrity,
yes?
So how does denying our naturally embodied climate
and unkind mind-wasting spiritual pathologies
help us become the perpetually ReStorative Paradise
we might synergetically peace together
Healing decadently autocratic Hell
monotheistically against sacredly wealthy
organically healthy Gaia Earth.
What is it ‘bout fowl language,
makes folks complain the most?
It doesn’t seem to faze
10 million chickens coast to coast!
So many are misled
by what they hear as “chatter”
But if they spoke some ‘fowl” themselves
they’d know what was the matter!
For one thing, it’s the roosters,
bad as chauvinistic pigs!!
They can’t converse at all
without getting in their digs!
Cramped quarters are another,
makes decorating tough!
To put feed on the table
has really gotten rough!
Then, the turkeys, ducks and geese
have to join the band
Their accents are so heavy,
makes them hard to understand!
I get my info from the source
not from some old trucker
I know Amelia Egghart
She’s the Head Mother Clucker!
Bevy of swans in a sea-fowl cloud,
starling mumuration,whispering aloud.
Wray of quail,where teal spring,
tiding of magpie,as larks nesting, cling.
Nightingale watch a hover of crows,
herd of wrens,hosting sparrows.
Flight of doves,lapwing deceit,
charm of finches,swallows sweet.
Kindle of kittens,knot of toads,
a yoke of oxen shed their load.
Den of snakes,skulk with fox,
shires stabled and boxed.
Business of ferrets,labour with moles,
span of mules in a string of foals.
Harrass of horse,husk of hares,
rake of colts with a stud of mares.
Drove of cattle,with a tribe of goats,
downs of sheep,pack of stoats.
Spider cluster in a thatch,
brood of game,hatched,matched
and despatched.