Long Hackles Poems
Long Hackles Poems. Below are the most popular long Hackles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hackles poems by poem length and keyword.
Epigrams V
Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do stars
applaud the glowworm’s stellar mimicry?
—Michael R. Burch
Teach me to love:
to fly beyond sterile Mars
to percolating Venus.
—Michael R. Burch
Byron
was not a shy one,
as peacocks run.
—Michael R. Burch
When I visited Lord Byron's residence at Newstead Abbey, there were peacocks running around the grounds, which I thought appropriate.
Less Heroic Couplets: Unsmiley Simile, or, Down Time
by Michael R. Burch
Quora is down!
I frown:
how long can the universe suffice
without its ad-vice?
"Lu Zhai" ("Deer Park")
by Wang Wei (699-759)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Uninhabited hills ...
except that now and again the silence is broken
by something like the sound of distant voices
as the sun's sinking rays illuminate lichens ...
Swiftly the years mount
by T'ao Ch'ien
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Swiftly the years mount, exceeding remembrance.
Solemn the stillness of this spring morning.
I will clothe myself in my spring attire
then revisit the slopes of the Eastern Hill
where over a mountain stream a mist hovers,
hovers an instant, then scatters.
Scatters with a wind blowing in from the South
as it nuzzles the fields of new corn.
War, the God
by Michael R. Burch
War lifts His massive head and turns...
The world upon its axis spins.
... His head held low from weight of horns,
His hackles high. The sun He scorns
and seeks the rose not, but its thorns.
The sun must set, as night begins,
while, unrepentant of our sins,
we play His game, until He wins.
For War, our God, our bellicose Mars,
still rules our heavens, dominates our stars.
Shotgun Bedding
by Michael R. Burch
A pedestrian pediatrician
set out on a dangerous mission;
though his child bride, Lolita,
was a sweet senorita,
her pa’s shotgun cut off his emissions!
Keywords/Tags: epigram, epigrams, mayfly, mayflies, mountain, mountains, star, stars, stellar, glowworm, firefly, mimic, mimicry, irony, jealousy, judgement, life, mortality, loss, nature, transience, Quora
A part-time poet's destined to be plagued by pressure
The press of time, the pulse of work, vanished years
Barely a moment to reflect, swirling phrases unmeasured
Envisioning the thrill -- pondering ideas at leisure
The press of time, the pulse of work, vanished years
Bloody lies my train of thought, derailed once more
Envisioning the thrill -- pondering ideas at leisure
What wouldn't I give for such unimaginable pleasure
Bloody lies my train of thought, derailed once more
To start over -- Where was I? -- Cauldrons of frustration
What wouldn't I give for such unimaginable pleasure
Dream on, part-time poet, of vast unattainable treasure
Comes my annual vacation, free at last from work's shackles
Alas, stay-cations raise beloved family members' hackles
To start over -- Where was I? -- Cauldrons of frustration
Barely a moment to reflect, swirling phrases unmeasured
Alas, stay-cations raise beloved family members' hackles
Wistful aspirations decimated, grim rations of jackals
Barely a moment to reflect, swirling phrases unmeasured
A part-time poet's destined to be plagued by pressure
June 30, 2019
Entry: Part-time Poet Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner
in the chilling crisp night
with out a stirring trace of breeze
tingling fear of unseen eyes
as my hackles begin to rise
Ebony skies with bright jewels scattered
pinpricks of rain bowls that quickly glitter
pale moon like watching eye
baleful gaze upon me here
whispering sound of cutting air
so high above and far away
growing louder and drawing near
I turn my eyes unto the sky
like a racing cloud across the stars
of sharp lines and angles clear
narrowing straight towards me now
two points of redness spear my soul
blocking now the light of the moon
silhouetting a shape of doom
reptilian wings of mighty beats
seeking its prey within the night
a flash of flames before it flares
and on cold wind of mighty roar
in fear I tremble cold and weak
fearing that I be the prey it seeks
across the land in dark of night
in clusters tremble many sheep
that upon the Dragon does feast
finding them a tasty treat
mutton wrapped in fleecy white
a toothsome treat at in the night
glowing eyes seek in the land
white flashes of the fearful sheep
sharply turning spearing down
with the roaring of wings it descends
lighting the night with bright flame
with talons stained with ruby red
with booming flaps it breaks its fall
grabbing the prey that it did seek
with mighty flaps it again ascends
winging quickly into the night
struggling in its grasp so tight
is a maiden in sweater white
‘tis not really the dragons fault
‘twas seeking the Argyle white
The moon hovers there, shining aloft,
its form the infamous crescent,
its glow so luminous as to reveal the rest of the orb,
oft-hidden when its time in the sky is not nigh.
Underneath, a fog coats the cold ground.
It floats eerily around everything in its path,
twisting here and there, suffusing the darkened morning
with a fell feel, secrets behind every bush and tree.
As my fellows and I trudge past a field to our left,
the mist reveals the obstacles we placed there afore;
in the sun, just part of training, procedure -
in these cruel environs, an ominous vision.
Barbed wire raises from a fence line
like the hackles of an angry beast;
threatening even we who emplaced it with its edges,
taunting our easily pierced flesh to embrace it.
Bunkers hunker down by the edge of the wood,
barely glimpsed openings once promising solace -
in this haunting setting they appear more as gaping maws,
showing to the world only a presence and visage of hunger.
Meant to hamper the enemy, defend those who built them,
on this macabre morn they serve more to menace their own.
Our bristling band hurries to pass that brooding breadth,
the horned moon vanishing at last from our unsettled sight.
Blackie mounts my broomstick every Halloween
With her silky coat and eyes of emerald green
We’re silhouetted in the moonbeam's gleam
Kitty meows so loudly if ever we are seen
Children point at us and let out a scream
Look at that black cat and the warty old witch
Blackie’s hackles rise, her meow rises in pitch -
I wish my black kitty had got a volume switch
We rise then fall as my broomstick gets a glitch
Suddenly we're both propelled into a watery ditch
Poor kitty's fur’s wet, bracken covers her left eye
We clamber from the water, and I let out a sigh
She meows like a banshee, I know the reason why...
as she's lost our big container of sweet pumpkin pie -
It’s her Halloween treat; I can’t bear hearing her cry!
Her meowing gets so loud soon it reaches a decibel
So I get out my wonky wand and repeat a magic spell
My broom flies out the ditch, the pumpkin pie as well
We both climb onto the broom and fly off to a motel -
I’m glad we got the pie back, or she'd make my life hell!
Halloween Meow Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
AWARDED POEM OF THE DAY 24TH OCTOBER 2020
10/23/20
To honor someone’s talent
While excusing certain views
Which the world may deem offensive
Is the stuff that makes the news.
For a well-endowed museum,
With a Costume Institute,
Planned to showcase a designer
Who’s the face of ill repute.
Known for comments that disparage
People different from his type,
Nonetheless, his output thrives
With many drawn into the hype.
Yet the show for Galliano,
With Ms. Wintour’s staunch support,
Raised the hackles of some donors
And those critics got to thwart
What, to me, was recognition
That should surely be reserved
For designers with both talent
And integrity observed.
Sometimes those with too much power
Make decisions which, I’d bet,
Turn the tide to flow against them,
Though they harbor no regret.
there is stain
stainless stain
none sees
stigma bin niche
in the heart of my rose
the youthful rose
road to road
lane by lane
the fragrance
comes with virginity
of wile
will-o-the-wisp
the lace of writing
makes the attire
makes the disguise fire
on the Tyre of living gyre
respectively to the pyre
in the bier
not as the dead
but as the withered leaf of winter
in the wisdom of love
in the womb of chaste
heirs on the astray
habeas-corpus
hackles on the verbose anonymity
anopheles drinks
taste blood,
gyves the pathos of beautification
demise crawls the path of sagacity
no enmity
on the road of poetic procession
yet, the youthful rose
hails the decease of blood
in the nerve circulation
and circumcises the head of pen
in time........
-07/01/2020 CTG, BD
Granny`s spooky house
My granny has a spooky house she has a spiders web
She keeps it in her room at night just above my bed.
I cannot take my eyes of it however hard I try
As it unwraps its prey from its shiny web and slowly eats a fly.
The spiders black and hairy with long and skinny legs
I’m sure when I fall asleep at night it crawls about my head.
She also has a cauldron it’s filled with poisonous gloop
But she says it`s for tomorrow as she’s making homemade soup.
I go to bed quite early but Granny stays up late
She`s downstairs eating fruitcake it`s like beasties on her plate.
Just as it turns midnight her cat comes to the room
It snuggles in the corner and sleeps on granny`s broom.
It` s coat is black and shiny its eyes are big and green
It`s claws are sharp and pointy the biggest that I've seen.
Then it starts to hiss and spit and getting up its hackles
And Granny starts to laugh at it just like a witches cackle.
Now she takes its collar of, it wears a silver bell
Then it falls asleep real quick just like she cast a spell.
My granny wears a pointed cap when she goes to bed
It looks just like a witches hat sitting on her head.
Her gown looks like a witches cloak when she hangs it up
And then she takes her teeth out and puts them in a cup.
And when the house is quiet and everyone`s asleep
The doors they start to crackle and the floors begin to creek.
The windows really draughty and the heating pipes are knocking
And the squeaky stairs out in the hall sounds just like someone talking.
There`s footsteps in the attic granny says it`s just a mouse
It`s really hard to sleep at night in granny`s spooky house.
But when I wake up in the morning and the sun is shining bright
I open up the curtains to let in all the light.
The cat is in the garden the spiders in its web
The doors don’t squeak and the floors don’t creek
And I`m snuggled up in bed.
Granny`s in the kitchen and I cannot hear the mouse
It`s in the attic sleeping in granny`s spooky house
Dear Kitty, today, I sing your everlasting praise,
I, your humble Frisky, dog next door,
bark a heartfelt word and phrase,
though, both of us are alive no more,
and, though my hackles, you did raise
when you walked upon the wall
dividing our two yards.
To eat you, I tried hard,
but I could only jump so high, and never did you fall.
Dear Kitty, it's heaven now where we two play
as we while away each blessed day,
where up here, too, a wall divider,
where you may tease and prance.
as I bark, "I want my teeth inside her,
if she'd just give me a chance".
There is no other cat than thee,
for me to chase, I truly say,
to Kitty, the cat that won't ever fall, for all eternity.
I am pretty certain
What you will find
With a sneaky cheeky peek
Behind the velvet curtain
See..one of a kind
Stand Up hierachy
For very few shekels
Sarky then snarky malarkey
Sworn scorn of merry heckles
But shorn of those hackles
Torn free from those shackles
The dawn of hee-hee cackles
If they're a chronic
Stand Up Comic
No one applauds
Dreads hordes of frauds
Who tread ironic boards
A skit to be a hit
Must pit your wit
Acerbic gambit
Caustic flit
Twit or git
Design a fine punchline
Yep..the funny bit
Scores on the doors
Gaping jaws and guffaws
Means more encores
If they don't shirk
Perk of their work
Can air a quirk
Share & make them smirk
With flair or devil maycare
The crowd revel...go beserk
Seriously sardonic
Scheming bitter of gin
Deliriously laconic
Big beaming grin
Gleaming glitter of tonic
Tears now are streaming
Girth of the mirth
Cheers from their peers
Just the ticket for the critic
What's it worth?
Priceless..to see an iconic
Yet down to earth
Stand Up Comic
On their home turf
Always pick it..