Long Hallow Poems
Long Hallow Poems. Below are the most popular long Hallow by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hallow poems by poem length and keyword.
Bugle resounds call for another fateful charge
Bands of soldiers toward the fortified ridge barge
Enfilading fire from cannons fiery portents discharge
Infantry ranks decimated from center to marge
Wave after wave crest up the rocky redoubt
O'er boulders, mounds their heels dutifully plow
Nourishing with their blood a field so fallow
Trite fodder on a temporal battle strand; sacrificial lambs noble
cause to hallow
Ruddy lads searing in the scorching sun; faces sunk, complexion's
sallow
Surrendering all future hope; boyish dreams in dying hearts so
callow
Precious resources drained from a reservoir so shallow
Southern heroes ressurected and romanticized on nouveau tableau
When the sky is dark, will the rain follow? Please tell me so.
When I’m feeling blue, can you make me glow? Please tell me so.
While each and every one has his own idiosyncrasy,
Does your patience with mine then help me grow? Please tell me so.
Let’s be grateful to people who love us and give us joy,
Let those who irk be ignored. Don’t feel low? Please tell me so.
It’s better to love and lost than never to love at all,
Is it from deep pain that hearts turn hallow? Please tell me so.
The direction of the wind is never in our control,
Do we’ve to be docile to where it blows? Please tell me so.
All life’s challenges are not supposed to paralyze us,
They’re for discovering self not to go? Please tell me so.
Life is like a river of current sometimes rough and smooth,
It has beauty. Do we go to the flow? Please tell me so.
This beautiful world… nothing is more permanent than change,
Do update me with the new trends you know. Please tell me so.
;))))))))
Nov. 7, 2013 10.10pm
Note:
* 14 syllables in each line
Sixth Place
Contest: Take the Leap
Judged: 11/11/13
Sponsor: Poet Debbie Guzzi
On mountain top high
Where delusions of grandeur fly
Superfluous pen grounded but spry
With ink stenciling the availing sky
Wispy clouds through portals do espy
The regal, azure fountain in scarab's eye
Golden beams vaporous plains do ply
With sultry steam airy canvas does dry
Jet stream's wistful currents solemnly sigh
As lingering, eerie presence of a train passed by
Descending to the valley low
Infused landscape portraits glow
Vicarious pen raised up on the gallows
To stitch tangible but fleeting shadow
Spindled meadows, with amber girth to hallow
Stinging nettles, thistles inlaid soft soles to harrow
Gilded Buttercups frill with radiant, golden bow
Alongside, faded Dandelion wheels dander strew
Beautiful, Monarch, sequin fans heated air bellows
Nearby, Great Black wasp pierces cricket with arrow
Thine distorted reflection rippled
within rain maker's pool
upon a midnight clear
full moonlight sonata
flooded shallow abyss,
cleaved fractal structures of silence
reverberating deathly hallow from 'ere
to infinity, whence magic wand
whipped out from
whereabouts unknown
wove disenchanting spell
atop me shaded noggin more'n
fifty ruffle lake suns
Dorian Gray pictured here
to fore, awakened
from drunken stupor,
whence sober self
saw repulsive trouper
fluid dynamic image jeer
at pot bellied, dead panned,
and ad libbed the mere
ore image lam bent,
mutilated spindled
various horrid aspects of
myself nine inch
rusty nails impaired
which, aghast at such
creepy distortion i didst rear
like a bucking bronco unclear
how this horrid, jagged,
limned paragon did wear
a grotesque disfigured Joeseph Conrad
lost within heart of darkness – maybe Zaire
or Zulu-land, this
soaked silhouette half bare
from waist to head showed unmanly
sagging overly engorged breasts
plus right and left elephant sized ear
egad, THAT CANNOT BE ME,
yet upon performing
self exam a glare
ring outburst ensued,
cuz thy once
bronzed handsome physique
now grist for a Joker to jeer
and fodder made
for television series created,
directed, and executed by Norman Lear
which role might be
temporary for Halloween, but near
lee every SINGLE day and night,
thy aged dusk fraught hominid jerked,
leaped, pooh poohed I ham ill prepared
to accept, roistering, rollicking,
rueing this Frankenstein scarred
complex deplorable edifice able,
ready, and willing to be tarred
rather than evince flabbiness,
gruesome homeliness, instance
when no objection would arise
to live out the remaining days of this life
as the world wide web turns, spins, rattles...
and voluntarily sign myself into a stew ward
with (at minimum ), a ghoulish, gnarly,
gummy self activated door
leading to privet hedge row trimmed
topiary resplendent yard
cuz every cotton pickin, friggin,
fingerhut lickin portal iz barred
dated Friday the thirteenth
with **** face on that card!
We are not made of stone, but of flesh and blood and sometimes 'things' can hurt! And guess what...it's alright to cry. Ever cried at night? I have. Jesus put my tears in His bottle...and held me tight. Ps 56:8
From the bottom of my very soul
my heart broke last night
Still my stride today, somehow
is hopeful and light
~~~~
No one but You, Sweet Jesus
knows what You brought me through
How I clung to You and pleaded for remembrance
...that Your Precious Blood was for me too!
~~~~
This mountain is too rugged to climb...
I weepingly complained...I can't!
I want this cup removed I moaned...
Dear God....I'm spent!
~~~~
Then from the hallow of Your hands
from Your all encompassing Spirit and depth...
came Your miraculous peace
...I slept
~~~~
No one I meet can tell
not even those that know me well
Not even a hint of the battle forged is seen
For Thou has enabled me...upon You I lean
~~~~
You are with me...every step of the way
You are on my every side
No one knows that...
Last night...I cried
Ps 119:169-170, Ps 51:17, Ps 30:5
copyright; jmsbell/2005
Left alone, halo hung;
Midst the nightly waves,
Stars in the sky strung
Above the quiet graves.
Just take a chance
In your shallow disguise,
With a mere glance
Into her hallow eyes
The winter moon's glow,
Bound to my delicate world,
Rained its crystalizing foe.
Around, the flurries swirled
In the deep, perfect land,
I ask the stars, “Hold my hand”
I mask the scars on demand
In sweet sleep, I take a stand
Fleeing the sadness;
Worry leads the way I go,
Everblooming madness
Darkens beneath the snow.
Whispers in my ears
Tickle my spine;
Rupture all my tears,
Dream of mine.
March 19 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on 1Samuel 21-24
Key Verse– 1Samuel 23:4 Then David enquired of the LORD yet again. And the LORD answered him and said, Arise, go down to Keilah; for I will deliver the Philistines into thine hand.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY ENQUIRY-ANSWER GIVER
Lord God, You are my enquiry answer-Giver
for my daily altar meeting
Thank You for directing me…
… toward heavenly kingdom-business presenting
Along Your sanctification, divinely promoting
To hallow me from worldliness’ tempting.
Lord God, You are my enquiry answer-Giver
for my earnest character-refining
Thank You for enabling me…
… midst service-sacrifice gaining
Along Your fellowship’s presence, joyously reigning
To guard me against deceit of madness-reigning.
Lord God, You are my enquiry answer-Giver
for my sin-escaping
Thank You for setting me…
… to distress and discontentment-stripping
Along Your victuals of supplied provision-wrapping
To keep me in Your safeguard coping.
Lord God, You are my enquiry answer-Giver
for my fight’s overcoming
Thank You for enlightening me…
… with Your promises I should be claiming
Along Your deliverance of omnipotent performing
To uphold me in Your stronghold’s framing.
Lord God, You are my enquiry answer-Giver
for my compassion-blessing
Thank You for propelling me…
… toward soulwinning of victorious pressing
Along Your empowerment for my good works’ progressing
To delight me by Your miracle-surprising.
Lord God, You are my enquiry answer-Giver
for my obedience-following
Thank You for giving me…
…desire to involve in Gospel seed-sowing
Along Your help in comforting those sorrowing
To spare me from frustration’s blowing.
Lord God, You are my enquiry answer-Giver
for my Scriptural endeavour’s rewarding
Thank You for checking me…
…of my motives upon ministry-prodding
Along Your principles I must always be regarding
To gear me up by Your sovereign leading.
March 19, 2023
Salem Village, Massachusetts
May 11, 1692
Of evil works in league with the devil, I am accused.
Spit upon, bolts tethered in chains, I have been abused.
People mardle I cast spells of palsie to make them twitch.
Blinded by fear, they labeled me a sorceress, a witch.
Superstition is to blame for blinding their eyes.
I claim innocence when affronted by boisterous cries.
"Burn the witch!" they shout in frenzied outrage.
Until tomorrow's trial, I am to be kept inside a cage.
These Puritans are wrong to think they do God's will.
Christians should not have such an urgency to kill.
There is no talk of banishment. That would be a blessing,
but the crimes they say I committed, I am not confessing.
Other women in the village are facing this tragic fate.
Pity that our lives will be in the hands of the magistrate.
Sorrow fills me knowing I will meet death on the gallows
and tossed in a grave, not worthy of ground that is hallow.
I am already convicted in the minds of those who leer.
My pleas of having done nothing wrong, they do not hear.
All of a dudder, I hear them say, "She is a witch possessed!"
"Forsooth," I will cry in court, "to witchery I have not confessed!"
Somewhere from outside, I faintly hear a church bell clanging.
Then, a hoard of voices screaming, "It is time for hanging!"
I write these words before the mob comes to take me away.
God, please keep me in your heart. I will not live another day.
Bridget Bishop,
Falsely accused of being a witch
A chain of events has lead me to this here and now,
it is a twisted chronicle and woeful history;
but, I will spare you the complete saga of my life.
I have spent part of my journey barren and hallow,
my tears have been full of empty whys and weeping;
grief is a prison- I can affirm and attest to that.
It is amazing that my spirit had a chance to grow,
but, with temerity and recklessness I kept creeping;
in the dark of night unable to sleep I have felt flat.
Yet, I think the overtone of my life is my wow,
the nuance and shadows are all part of the mystery;
I survived- although I have known life's knife.
Somehow, I always find the crevice and the sun's glow,
through a crack in my life the light comes seeping;
an aperture opens for me and I shake off my past.
I have known great love, friendship and too many a foe,
and yes, I do have a proclivity to weeping that I like keeping;
but, in my innermost marrow there is a strength vast.
_________________________
November 2, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/This Here and Now
Copyright Protected, ID 11- 1082-312-02
All Rights Reserved, 2018, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Eight Word Challenge-9
sponsor, John Hamilton, Judged 11/2018
Second Place
It rained and poured heavily as never before
Washing away hills,downs and the plain;
Sure it was a commited lofty drain
To revive the struggling, straggling live galore;
Lightings thunder like pretentious promoters
Heckled over the ravage and disorder
Off and beyond all stay and border;
Nothing but just Water : muddy ripples and floaters
Strange it is the serene freshness and poise
Follows all such mockery excess and ablution
The essence of being is contained within evolution
While all human play and way fills noise
And only sound and fury to conclude
In hallow vain , absurd and futile a feud.