Long Gusty Poems
Long Gusty Poems. Below are the most popular long Gusty by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gusty poems by poem length and keyword.
Our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our skins,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright sky light.
My son
who cannot walk
nor speak his name
talks vociferously forth and with
and adding as this morning breeze
together part of Her embrace,
playful tickles
across his advocating happy Yanging face
teaching out and taking in, as possible
what and whom is impossible
for any of us to see,
whether blind as he
or sighted as we
might actually hope to be.
D is an avid scooting son
toward virgin forest greetings,
able to smell and feel morning seasons and rhythms
of days and night,
dark and persuasively gusty bright
flow of solar and lunar breezes
across our democratic EarthBound skins,
nurturing solidarity
older than concrete avenues toward cities
of overwhelming unforesting,
unraveling
tribes producing what once was nutrition,
good food more than fake food,
healthy love of gusty bright mornings
over toxic repressed-yin darks,
nightmares of climate acclimation
to separating multi-sensory linguistic pathologies.
D's life is liturgy of love
blemished only by occasional aversions to entrapment
and suffering alone
when we might become possible
to produce healthier webs of cooperative nurture
together,
Dad and D
as We.
Daranyani D,
celebrating sacred forest winds
as feminine matriarchal principles
gracing his brown naked skin.
Diversity of days and holonic nightdreams,
democratic nutritional pluralism,
principles of forest reweaving civilizations
older than cities
surrounded by fading cultures of wealth
through deforesting this EarthTribe Morning
which,
on its very best warm gusty day,
has become worthy
of concelebrating Daranyani D's
forest optimizing breezes,
liturgies of EarthTribe's
Secular Out and Sacred In
brightest elder
matriarchally principled
(0)Soul bilateral sacred brain-dance,
Elder RightBrain
Still-PolyCulturating Light-RainDance
Choreographies Sacred (0)Sum EcoPolitical
BiCameral Green-Dominant.
Just like his preachy, but basically happy, ElderDad
co-eco incarnating
our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our naked wrongs and rights,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright returning sky light.
"Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale. Children learn as they help you imagine" ~~ Hans Christian Andersen ~~
I sat by the pond not a ripple in sight.
How ever was I going to fly my new kite?
Leaves on the branches of far away trees,
Not a tiny rustle no sign of a breeze.
Colors of a rainbow my kite by my side.
Without any wind it wont fly even if I tried.
I see something fluttering as it passed by.
A wind didn’t cause that it was just a butterfly.
It’s time I gave up the day was just too fine.
Then a cow said "I am looking for a baby of mine”
I told her “I will help you look for your baby”
With two of us looking, we will find her maybe.
Suddenly the cow said she had heard a soft moo.
And yes, I had heard a slight little mooing too.
We searched and searched in the field over and over.
In the long grasses and the soft green clover.
I will help you look too came a cold blustery gust.
I could not see who had said this though try as I must.
Grasses began swaying the wind said "There is your heifer."
The gusty breeze said "I am a friendly zephyr."
The afternoon was fun, everyone was glowing.
The zephyr stayed and just kept on blowing.
Soon it was time for all to be on their way.
And the new friends looked forward to another day.
Wintertime
A seasonal shift most wished-for
Wind chill factor drops below zero
Flakes begin to plunge over icy lakes’
Snowbirds angered by the blizzard,
Frostbitten icicles dangle from the leafless trees
Gold and silver jingle bells glide in the wintry snow
Slushy snow powdery the slippery roads
Hot cocoa heat beloved shivering bodies
The smell of spiced pumpkin pies in the atmosphere
Hair damp from the northern wet cold
Kids playing and forming snowballs
Depression froze away among the sleet rain
Swallow tears dissipate along gusty snow flurries
Shades use for the drifts of snow in the footpath,
Foggy mornings; pure white nights-burr
Snowed in mornings aside the toasty fireplace,
Blissful ice-kisses gracefully unending
Wintertime an occasion whereas, affection submounts
That dormant feeling of insecurity arose,
when travel journal got thrust adjacent
to my tattered (holey tattooed) clothes
while I knew with crossed eyes
aroused anger from peaceful doze
my younger sister felt about her
globe trotting exploits, an over expose
jour ever since voyaging out on her own
after graduating top of her class
where mine hatred glows
indirectly snidely sneering
at ma dough less brother hoboes
(a 1979 Methacton High School alumni),
unanimously chosen valedictorian
dressed in Calvin Klein
Harris tweed, couture
and silk panty hose
like me prolonging, promoting
on par with quasi staff sergeant, who knows
artful disciplinarian gingerly launching rules,
asper formerly commanding G.I. Joes
and pronouncing, predilection
exhaling natural highs no lows
traveling solo, with surviving Wilburys,
or just mows
zing nonchalantly
(though a foreigner) with swarthy skin color
easily camouflaging as civilian
all points on the compass,
where minute needle doth nose
upon returning home (being honorably feted
at once glorious estate of Glen Elm,
where she did propose
to the Lord Taylor (swiftly), which location
situated at 324 Level Road, Collegeville,
Pennsylvania 19426),
thence a great huzzah a rose
an immediate nauseousness welled
within from me head tummy smelly toes
I did not want to here, or see any details,
which would accentuate personal woes
popping, snapping, and smarting,
and slapping skin raw tib bits,
ache'n to yanked strings
of mama's heirloom yo-yos!
Poet Script:
trials and tribulations,
visited upon head of young
concocted ("FAKE") gusty and gutsy
kid sister enterprising ingenue,
christened easy on the tongue
Sharodd (not her real name),
to top off talents sung
like a professional opera singer, which rung
a shiver along small hairs of spine did tingle
heard all the way to Lake Woebegone
where bachelor farmers did mingle
every Christmas, a decreasing
number donned Kris Kringle
hit with blitzkrieg of yawping brats
hoof pranced to bell weather jingle!
Goring down, shredding tears, I pule to,
give my prayer, to all family's and
friends, missing or gone, across this
blanket world, as her gusty winds flare,
and ragging rapids spill, these islands in
darkness, I will not lye here,
silenced, for she was,
"PLANNED" drapping curtains,
where our moon mysteriously a
lined itself, mutationally, reins, and
deploys,explosions of fear, I say,
don't give in, break her free, don't
be, A coward less coward, to their deceit,
and lies, these politicians, we call
democrats n' republicans, don't
really,give A RATS ASS, as long
as,they get voted, I ask stand for
what's right to your heart, therefore
she can not win this glory, and ask
your government why???? Priceless
lives pay, in A test on the country
so that they may have control....
That's the question.... But I will not
bow, I give my hand to the
innocence, of THE PEOPLE.......
To shelter them with love and blessings, that I
Rein.....For I shall ride A pon my black knight.....
As We defeat it, like a skyscraper...
Carma
10-30-12
Winds of Change
Capricious, wild zephyr – face changing ever
Pirouettes on toes with mischief clever
Breathes dawn’s glow – gusty gales of crystal snows –
Signals the seasons – the bloom of the rose.
A whiff of coming Spring – perfumed soft sighs -
Lifts up baby birds to touch new sky highs
In Summertime cools the dry sunburned land
Sweating dirt devils spin 'cross the beach sand.
A whirlwind of moods - mistrals laugh then brood -
Twirls pinwheel hues in Autumn's interlude
Cold drafts exhale in frigid Winter tales
Telltale breath bears meadow white hoarfrost frail.
Though changing winds beg to spin weathervanes
Each season’s persona remains unchanged.
11-24-20
Contest: Winds of Change
Sponsor: John Hamilton
life, no aim or form.
In all directions careless
broom-straws
blown by gusty storm.
Towns aflame sparkling
with each busy soul.
the smell of life, the odor of its toll.
Clutching their bowls of soup; derelicts
filling their holes
with charity’s endless loop.
Each street a living river
flowing driftwood buildings.
Spilling pools of debris
that wash away all evidence of vice
into dampened lots of memories.
Distant arching bridges,
limbs that link their parts
like you and I in love
linked with desperate hearts.
Another storm, another street,
hearts retreat
from city’s reach.
kneeling, grasp a stone
feed the oceans’ lapping tongue
whispering: “Thy will be done”
Wafting breezes christen us
with ocean spray
lending us a holiness to pray.
baptized lappings
from a shallow surf
bind us to this hallowed earth
to lay on sand, feel the morning sun.
Yes, now at last
The will of all be done.
Distant voices sink our ear.
Seagull patterns, heard from far and near.
Faint footsteps of a journey
soon erased by time.
Echoes left unsigned.
We were the cause
of our effects unchained.
Each quiet soul, in final truth
left stained.
Where I am probing a tranquil night
I find you there in the depth of skies
Among shiny stars, my beloved sight,
Endearing as ever to gratified eyes.
You are my smile, my forever pride,
On journey of life, you are my guide,
You’re my treasure, you’re my rock,
In your footsteps, I endeavor to walk.
Oh! when I ached, how you too cried,
An affectionate presence by my side
Cheering every feat since I was a child,
With my happiness how you too smiled.
In tenebrous times, you were our light,
When we encountered stormy shore,
In face of danger you were the knight
While enduring gusty seasons of yore.
You tutored me on right from wrong,
Those blessings of verity I pass along
As your love brightens arc of my dawn
On halo eternal, though you are gone.
In albums of past my memories revive,
Cherish and thrive, as if you are alive,
For undying is love so angelic and true,
Rekindling bond anew, thinking of you.
May 3, 2022
Placed 1st: A Mother’s Love, Tributes Of Love
For Mother’s Day Poetry Contest
Sponsor: B J Legros Kelley
Once there was a mother
She watched her son suffer
It happened after last supper
when bread was served with wine not butter
Power players came in
Like gusty wind
They took the Mother’s son away
Saying it’s time you pay
Giving him a thorny crown
Before the judgment was handed down
A man named Pilot took control
And he was very bold
Letting the masses make the decision
Since it was their mission
Up the hill they went
Showing hate and resent
And at the request of their boss
They hung the Mother’s son on a simple wooden cross
It was there
That the Mother showed she really cared
For three hours until a storm came abreast
Screaming anger at this humanity mess
Years passed and it was mentioned
Like her son the Mother had ascended
Today a Mother
Watches her son suffer
Hoping her boy will recover
It is during this time
Faith could be in decline
Giving more reason
To understand the Lenten season
From the hours of winter struggles
Come warm springtime cuddles
Where life is in the air
Taking away death’s scare
This is the true embrace
Much needed when adversity moves into one’s space
Wanting attention by demanding a meeting face to face
It is a Mother’s love who strength comes from above
Swooping down as peaceful as a dove
Piloting its way making it a special day
27th&28th march 2012 by: Sashi.Prabhu(zeauoxian)
Sunlight brightens the ruins a white,
The devastated & shambled walls speak to me and tell me all nite.
i merge into the walls as though i am a part of them
and now i whisper to myself about her and this is how i begin:
My love your seductive stance is so lusty
My feelings for you are passion filled and gusty.
Your hips so wide,
Your navel stares with glowing pride.
Studded on your shinning face,
Your eyes withhold a world for me to gaze.
So sensuous you’re seeking stare,
Blinds me like the suns glare.
I desire to grasp you fondly into an embrace,
And do so with comely grace.
And make you feel and see,
That I am made only for thee.
Your body I feel is smooth and suppleful silky,
Its texture to me is creamy white and sinfully milky.
Its shape is perfect in any which way,
My eyes from here to there to peek they sway.
You are unique and a dream’s reality,
Beauty and passion collides for your sensuality.
Oh! Fair woman of my dreams,
For you to be mine my heart it dearly screams.
Oh! Fair woman, in these ruined shambles,
Your curves and softness to feel my body it rambles!!!!!!