Long Hens Poems
Long Hens Poems. Below are the most popular long Hens by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hens poems by poem length and keyword.
Atatine .00999 parts per million
Enough to power four continents
With my Matron Disstule Generator
One ounce can power enough energy
For one large city They laughed at my
Science and ridiculed my beliefs I offered
them money, they said it was evil.
I trick them by giving them pallidium
Knowing they would have to use me to
refine it. Fair, fair, I was fair I asked for
there lands to began mining. I made them
Wealthy people When some refused the deal
I smiled and walked away And one night
I heard the gossip of cackling hens, speaking
Of me as foolish and how they wished to exploit
Me. I created the Scarecrow in response. My
Need to exist before all others. My wife lefted
divorced me and married my enemy. One July
Fourth she came to visit me crying.Asking me
to again trust her. She had fallen on hard times
I took her in, for months it was like when we
Married. One night I was in the warehouse and
I heard giggles, I tiptoed to we're the noise was
and there she was standing . I asked her what
she was doing there she dropped her robe to
Inside me. I went to her and suddenly a large
Man grabbed me. I woke up tied to a chair in my
House She and her husband making love before
Me. I reached into my pocket and grabbed my
Neutron fazor. And then suddenly to my surprise
Through the wall he came to rescue me, My Scarecrow,
My Scarecrow had come to life!
#cherryblossoms
no more cherry blooms
but now hens and chicks tell me
time never slows down
#lotus #tanka
from mud the lotus
rises to meet air and sun
its blossom follows
the path the lotus has honed
in wisdom showing the way
#ginseng
another year older
memories molder~
buying ginseng tea
#pagoda #cinquain
ancient
the pagoda
keeps its place within time
and cherry blossoms unchanging
it sits
#bonsai
how many generations
have cared for you
now shall I
#geisha
moon light shadows
and the rustle of silk
geisha
# samurai
daughter of the samurai*
your story still carries to us
in the song of the wind
*The daughter of the samurai Jo no Sukemori, Hangaku Gozen raised an army in 1201 to help overthrow the Kamakura Shogunate, but was defeated and sent to Kamakura for execution. The Minamoto warrior Asari Yoo saved her life and married her.
I pack eggs on a chicken farm.
Their colours range from brown to white.
Quite often in this line of work
I see some funny sites!
When walking through the hen house
I see a yellow forest of legs.
The foliage of which is red and brown
And like rocky mounds are the eggs.
The hens, they fascinate me.
They make many different sounds.
Some are gentle, contented,
Others, sharp and loud.
Their eyes are orange beads.
Many thousands blink my way.
When I reach out to pet them
They duck, hop, run away!
But most humorous of all
Is when two scrap for order;
They peck, they puff their chest
And stretch their necks to look taller.
When one yields, it screeches
Then hurries off in another direction.
When I see one hurt I want to scoop her up
And offer her loving attention.
Their movements bring on smiles,
Slow stalk, heads bob back and forth.
Some even balance on one leg
Whilst deciding whether or not to walk!
These beautiful girls are creatures of habit.
They are inquisitive and like to follow.
They are sensitive. They are free range.
It's always sad to see them go.
In Granny's backyard
I'm hanging around
upside down
from my favorite tree
making funny faces
at my cousin, while we
try not to laugh
because down below
the circle of grown-ups
hardly know
or have forgotten
we are here
So we hear
all the choice gossip
as the older women
snap their green beans
with enjoyment keen
They cackle and squawk
rowdy, raucous
laughing talk
flapping and waggling
large wing-like arms
like a flock of hens roosting
on metal lawn chairs
not feeling the stares
of me and my cousin
enjoying the show
finding out all kinds of things
and colorful words
we wanted to know, but
would never have heard
down on the ground!
Of all war brings
One is a disguised peace
And boldness to conquer fear
Of the darkest nights
And the silent mornings
To rain praises in morale at will
For news to reach the far distant neighboring countries
That each don't dream of attack
But I wonder if colonial masters ever heard of this
They came as eagles flying without wings
To make nests in hens village as police
Whose duty is to gear security but not to domineer
And to put all darkness plans to lights
By giving enough measures as warnings
Or get the reculcitrant lords drilled
Feeding back enough pleasantries
That will never dream to travel back
Even when all connections are at ease
War becomes admirable to lives
The only means to have the hen released
From seeming hungry eagles
That is never and shall not at will to let go
Of its captives that meant much to starvation
Even not for a lofty prank
Than hold on to it in all its might
Monitoring all possible escape routes
By neglecting no winks at break of the atmosphere
Our leaders' meetings become very active
As sacrifices nonstop increased
To grease the effort of freedom fighters like paralegals
To all ink on beautiful flow
And shelf bullets as eloquent reservation
Readily available for the blank
Roaring to fire out in plight
Congratulations to be sing on flutes
For the best wishes finally appear
aristocratic antelope alarms and annoys
blue-eyed baboon’s billy goat buster
causing confusion, consternation and crying
distressing and disturbing deliberate donkey
egg-producing egret elevates enthusiasm
forever frolicking in farmer fred’s pastures
giddy goats gallop in garnished with garlands
happy horse henry hypnotizes henrietta’s hens
intense iguana ignores idiocy of inmates
jackals justify jack rabbits jelly-like jeers
kangaroo keenly kicks off kingly kibitz
luxurious llamas lollygag in the lounge
mischievous monkeys march among marshes
nervous newts nibble on nutty Nutella
obnoxious oxen opts out of outrageous opportunities
preening peacock praises his pompous president
quivering quail questions quaking quasar
rustic rooster ruffles robin’s restlessness
sassy songbirds swizzle and sway toward sand beach
talkative turtle trains tarantula to twist and turn
understudy Ulysses utilizes universal unitedness
validating vocabulary of vicious vultures
wandering weasel wants to find his wishes
‘xacting ‘xtra ‘xhibitions ‘xperiment on eagle’s nest
yellow yak yawns next to yipping young wolf dog
zealous zebra zips into view of aristocratic antelope
The hens have stopped laying
Six is all I can give
Send little Johnny over soon
Maybe if the hens live
I can give another six
That will make even twelve
Then on the morrow eight laid well
On the coming day delve
(This is poulter's measure with fun. It was designed after what a poulter would
do..Sometimes one would get a dozen eggs and then maybe fourteen. So lines with twelve
syllables and then lines with fourteen. This scheme is six, six, eight, six. With the second
and fourth rhyming. The first two equal twelve and the second two equal fourteen. I found
this online at a site that had poetry information. I used delve to get a rhyme and it means
searching for information.)
In the quietness of dusk, when shadows stretch long over the fields of memory,
Memories rise like reflected ghosts, wandering through the labyrinth of thoughts,
Taking me back to the times of childhood, when backyards were boundless realms
That embraced my young soul, offering a stage for the great symphony of the earth,
The seasons playing in their fullness, like an orchestra under the baton of destiny.
Expanses of grass spread wide, calling bare feet to explore,
Tall trees, green sentinels, their branches forming secret forts,
Old sheds whispered stories of bygone years, with their timeworn tools and dusty relics,
Woven into the fabric of history, echoes of times long past.
In the corners of the garden, bathed in filtered light, nature’s treasures opened up—
Ripened tomatoes under a benevolent sky, corn standing with modest pride,
Clusters of grapes growing cool under the arching vines, their sweet darkness
Bursting in the mouth of an eager child, nectar trickling down sticky cheeks.
The velvety skin of apricots and peaches, nectar flowing deliciously,
Fresh eggs discovered early in the morning by wandering hens,
These backyards, sanctuaries of innocence, absorbed the pains of childhood like blotting paper,
Offering solace and escape, transforming into theaters of fantasy.
Sheriffs patrolling dusty towns, princesses in golden towers,
Summer days baptized by the arching spray of sprinklers,
An icy challenge for small feet, water games and genuine laughter.
But, like all enchanted realms, this too faded,
As the borders of backyards shrank,
And the call of distant lands became irresistible,
Restless spirits ventured further, leaving behind their Eden,
Breaking the delicate spell of beginnings, to chase destinies beyond the garden gate.
Thus I grew with dreams and yearnings, living and learning, always seeking
That infinite sequence of perfect moments, where the soul longs to rest,
In the gardens of yesteryear, where every moment was imbued with magic,
And innocence bloomed in every shady corner, under the sun of eternity.
Raising Children
Chickens, wandering across the yard...
making soft clucking noises.
The rooster is watching the sky.
He knows that the day is beautiful,
and yet full of danger.
The two create a mix of confusion,
complicated by the happy delusion
they are safe and free.
In the house...
Mama sends me out to the coop.
She tells me to gather all the eggs
and make sure the hens have food.
They give us exactly what we need,
and are still happy.
Mama sends me out to the barn.
I have to feed the big horse too,
clean the stall,
and do it all.
Mama sends me to the river,
to fish for dinner,
and gather wild herbs from the shores.
She tells me not to return
until I have done all that I
need to do.
Mama makes me clean the house,
when I get home... late.
She tells me it is my fate,
to do all these things,
again and again.
Mama lived a long time.
Mama does not live anymore.
She is gone.
I don't know what to do,
without her.
The majority of mine lxiii years
expended delving deep into imagination,
yours truly escaped, loosed, thwarted...
reality courtesy bookland
roaming cerebral cortex terra firmae
did not amp pulley satiate
seemingly depression found me
(an uncompetitive, oversensitive,
intuitive, contemplative bookworm)
with scrunched pate,
a day short and a dollar late
one dime a dozen lad
hood scrimp and scrape,
a familiar pattern typified fate
viz - hand to mouth bleak
how zing existence aye equate
extant throughout three score
plus three years date
journeys round el sol,
this varsity schlepper, procrastinator,
malingerer did create
current emotional state
mottled with sea henna tint
financial, emotional and
psychosocial characteristics stint
aye serum eyes while
in utero the blueprint
indelibly etched analogous
brand York Peppermint
also analogous to musician
recording tracks upon primed glint
ting digitized compact disc
clear polycarbonate plastic substrate,
a reflective metallic layer,
and a clear protective coating
of acrylic plastic
breakable as flint.