Long Head Poems
Long Head Poems. Below are the most popular long Head by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Head poems by poem length and keyword.
She left me for a woman.
What can I say it just happened . a lost puppy
she avoided me at first but ate the food
skeptical in her young life, she has suffered
cruelty
I was watching TV when she decided to
throw her lot in with me, but he head on my
left food, how did she know I was a lefty
sat for an hour, not daring to move
she woke, stretched, and made signs she needed
a pee, but I had to go with her
Now that I was the master, I made rules
which she ignored at times
She had my mascot from Norway because
it had unblinking eyes when I sat writing
she was in the kitchen drinking water
my mascot she mauled
I told her off, but she made it clear you shall
not love anyone but me
For thirteen years, our relationship lasted
I drove her around in winter because she
liked to sleep by the hum of the motor
What do you know, when a woman entered
she fell in love with her and followed her around
like a proper dog
I think she sensed my heartache, often when
trying to make sense of my writing
she came, but her head on my knee, looking
at me as saying, you are ok, mate, but this is
one of those things
Who would have thought that scarlet thread would save you,
hung from your window ledge close by our harlot bed.
You own that Inn, built into Jericho’s thick and stone built wall.
Who would have thought the God you feared,
with army’s last triumphant trumpet blast,
would cause that wall to fall.
That same windowed wall shows faces of the men you bed
while rooftop flax dries in the sun, and money from that sex,
and money from your flax cloth spun, hard earned to feed your family,
hard earned for all, hard won, hard earned for one and all.
And now the terror of that tribe, whose fear of God-reknown
has gripped your town and now knocks on your door.
Not another customer, 'dear', but spies that come before your dread,
before each stone comes rushing down,
before those stones crush every head,
before the curse to make your town no more.
Who would have thought to place your name with Sarah's faith
when in haste you hid those men in rooftop flaxen den,
and bargained each for saving lives before invading men
would come again. Yes, should spies go and not be found,
they would surely come again, burning Jericho to the ground.
Who would have thought in time to see your name with Judah's lion.
No longer harlot's shame but in mother-line to Christ our Lord
whose faith, with Sarah and with Abraham,
in Hebrews and in James, is something we acclaim,
beside those greater honoured names in faith's fine hall of fame.
Who would have thought your scarlet thread,
perhaps snatched from your shameful bed,
would win acclaiming faith and save those souls most certain dead,
your work that saved through faith, both work and faith,
with saving grace, saved losing of your head.
That day the saving scarlet thread was seen,
and also bloody red, from hand and foot and thorny crown,
and holding all your harlot’s blame, and all your harlot’s shame,
your Christ dropped bloody scarlet threads, dripped quietly to the ground.
Thus Rahab takes a finer name, that name above all other names,
and through her line, and scarlet thread,
shall rise with Christ's own rising dead.
I cry for the boys who just need to be left to be themselves
To play and explore, take risks and learn the hard way
With peers, and fathers and grandfathers
Getting the role models they need and deserve
From actual males and not the nurturing females
Who are now head of almost half of all households
And more than three quarters of all teachers and counselors
Females who all may mean well, but end up
Raising something that too often really isn’t a man.
I cry for the girls who just need to be left to be themselves
As tough as that can sometimes be
To slowly and steadily fill out
To become a woman whose whole is greater than her parts.
To celebrate and respect their femininity
Safe and secure to excel as females
Protected from males in sports and social spaces
To embrace being female, instead of copping out
To try and be a male, while ending up neither.
I cry for the children who just need to be left to be themselves
To play and explore and grow
For the few short years it is to be young
To keep their innocence as long as possible
And a child-like sense of wonder forever
Even if it remains hidden in private beneath a maturing face.
To be cherished and protected, nurtured and empowered
By the adults in their lives, and to know their elders
And the love that only comes from generations of experience.
(7/12/24)
They say change is easy,
a breeze, a flow,
If done their way,
a path they already know.
But they haven't walked your miles,
felt the sting,
Of trying everything,
Yet still not taking wing.
They haven't tasted failure,
the bitter pill,
Of dreams unfurling,
then standing still.
They haven't known the struggle,
the uphill climb,
Of pushing through the darkness,
one step at a time.
So let their words fall light,
like feathers on a breeze,
For they haven't walked your path,
haven't felt your knees.
Buckled under the weight,
of a fight they haven't known.
A battle fought in silence,
a battle fought alone.
You've given everything a go,
no matter what the cost,
Had courage to keep on trying,
even when you felt lost.
For even in the struggle,
strength is found.
A resilience that whispers,
"I will rise from the ground".
So hold your head high,
let their words fade away.
You've walked your own path
and that's enough to say.
For the journey you've taken,
the battles you've faced,
Have shaped you, defined you,
a spirit embraced.
And one day, when they stumble,
their path unclear,
They'll remember your strength,
your unwavering cheer.
And realise that change, for some,
is a steeper climb,
A journey of resilience,
one step at a time.
Boots crushing frosted grass-blades,
sun still an ember to the east,
clad head-to-toe in blaze orange
as I climb into the tree stand.
Strap myself in, high on this perch,
gaze over misty fields, half-cut,
nothing out yet but birds, squirrels,
background chittering for music.
Two long hours of dull silence,
read my book to try and pass time,
then a dun, brown shape…a doe!
shift my rifle upwards and scan.
There, stepping out, addled with lust,
a buck, not a young one either,
with loose skin and knobby antlers,
trots slowly after the young doe.
I pick up my call, make a bleat,
buck’s head shoots up and glare towards me,
put my sites behind the shoulder,
pull back until the gun speaks, loud.
He jolts, and sprints ten seconds, falls,
the does takes off for the woods.
Deep breaths to calm my pounding chest,
field falls quiet once again.
My freezer will be full this year,
no factory farms or hormones,
wild-caught meat for the family,
some choice cuts, the rest to grind.
Climb down to start the messy part.
In Silent fields I laid my head before God.
In Peaceful meadows I was given rest with Jesus by my side.
As soft singing birds sang in the morning to come I clung to my creator.
Under the heavens I wrestled with God and found my safe home.
Electing to race the clouds we became like stars falling toward the earth.
Each moment love restored and faith renewed in me in Love overcoming evil.
Youthful joy building inside of my soul I sing like a bird greeting my king as the birds greet the dawn.
Found my heart in my best friend Kami who is my truest Love who I know saved me by her silence.
when she refused words with me I did only thing I could do I surrendered to Jesus now he lives inside me. His words I cherish and every time I recall she is my best friend cause God created her. Lord Jesus you set me apart to be an Ambassador for your Kingdom and tell everyone to Trust in Jesus our great King of Kings. Roads all lead to Christ in the end he is our only hope for eternity. Your music Lord Jesus is my heart on fire praising your glory.
Mister Tom Turkey says gobble gobble
Mrs. Tom Turkey’s head goes wobble wobble
Zig-zaging through yards of grass they meet
Hen teaching her younglings 'bout how to eat
Tom gathers, his tuft dangling from his breast
His wingtips dragging, along with all the rest
Our feathers that we fan out are fabulous
A wattle hanging from our beaks are sabulous
A sign of power, we are just like the omnivores
Our relatives, are the dinosaurs- Buitreraptors
Fierceness and courage are our personality
We stroll about with our plumes, like royalty
Cocks prance ‘round like an Indian Sundance
Our totem spirit animal symbol is abundance
The main stars we are, during the holidays
Butterballs, cooked in many delicious ways
KellyBronze Birds, 16 lbs. are the Rolls-Royce
We are a source of nourishment, for your choice
As you zest us, and massage us use a rind
Of Valencia, naval, or blood orange of a kind
Try a pink, or white coarse salt as a brine
Take a minute with Chablis, a glass of wine
A seasoned cornbread stuffing of Italian sausage,
Golden raisins, walnuts and herbs freshly grown
Stuff us, seal us in foil and into the oven we're 'goin
Uncover us in the last hours until we're bronzed
Golden tan on the outside, then let us cool down
Juicy is our white meat and as tasty as our brown
When you give thanks today and put us on display
Don’t forget to show us gratitude, s'il vous plaît
We are noble birds!
“All creatures love in many ways-
and how they show it will amaze”.
_by Poet
Close to the glass, the mom lifted her up-
dressed in a yellow romper with bows
and wispy, blonde hair circling her head.
He then came closer to the glass
and sat intently facing her;
with his deep, dark eyes- yet with a gentle twinkle,
he looked calmly into her blue eyes.
She stared at him for a moment;
just a few inches apart- each from a different world.
And yet, he knew she was precious.
Quickly, he pressed his lips against the glass-
that showed her pink cheek on the other side.
With gentle love, the Gorilla lingered for a moment-
then offered her his sweet, silent kiss.
Love is the reflection of Our Father
Prayer is the engine of truth
The Lord Jesus calls the lost
He paid the cost at Calvary for everyone
What seems lost is most appropriate for His purpose.
He will make it possible when it seems impossible!
He joins you with God the Father and
Grants His Holy Spirit
We must know that the Lord Jesus Christ
Takes up impossible situations
He takes up impossible cases in our lives
He is the Supreme Leader of the Ages!
Therefore, if we have an impossible situation
We must remember that the Lord Jesus Christ
Takes Up Impossible cases
Simply bow your head and pray:
Lord Jesus, my case is impossible
Thank you, Lord Jesus, that you will make it possible!
Amen
Copyright © 2025
Mark Frank
Living v living
By Dominique Smith
Mirror images are flooded with joy compassion is overlooked and the heart that beated for it echoes across the pond. Neglected and overwhelmed both extremely acidic. You eat your favorite food and you drink your wine. Flashes of off color flowers, hey they call you look up at the reflection of normality.
In your hand a cold stone, smooth to the touch of your finger tips, small but fragrant scent of salty air. Wind sweep's past your ears, hey are you ok? They call but when you speak you smile and say yes, you blink it's three days later and you have more smooth cold stones. You feel you touch you taste the way every being has had and will. The plant is there over watered, Goosebumps comes from your skin. The hair on your arms flex like the leafs on a Autumn tree.
You shutter to thought of a misstep, you count the steps as you move your hand down the railing, Broad hallways are dark and quiet. Your hair on your head falls to your shoulders. the tips of said hair grow pale, Hey you with us? They ask you looking at the ceiling but never directly at you. You answer with a smile with a nodding motion. The table grows longer and the faces blur. You're respected, rejected, inspected, humiliated,praised, and thrown away. No one hears your whispers because you have none. You look at yourself image through the eyes of the confused, You ponder have you been living or living.