Long Hewn Poems
Long Hewn Poems. Below are the most popular long Hewn by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hewn poems by poem length and keyword.
In the heart of some dark English city
Came a sight that turned everyone's head
When as if from some dream came a wonderful team
In a wild sea of Boro Red.
Through all of my life it's been with me
All the fears, all the tears that I've bled
It wont run it wont yield it's my comfort and shield
This wild sea of Boro Red
Now this is a beautiful color
When I've worn it I've laughed and I've cried
It was hewn from the iron men of legend
And its run through with passion and pride
And now my Red Lion days are closing
As I lie on my funeral bed
I can see once again all those magical men
In a wild sea of Boro Red.
Sorrow soon be gone, glory fill my eyes
Boro I was born and Boro I will die
Never stopped believing, I kept my spirits high
Boro I was born and Boro I will die.
-----------------------------------------
Hear me sing this on youtube.
Google Boro Red. Louis Spence.
Thanks for reading.
Nature's anvil your hearth did score
Fodder pared from such balmy core
Residual chaff bartered to marine store
Parceled for distant, steamy shore
Billowy waves, your shallow mast is born
No banner, gilded sails your trite estate to adorn
Rudderless barge, with drifting currents your hull borne
Tossed to and fro, of steadying anchor shorn
Your rough-hewn cover slimed corroding each side
Your bark-lined deck withering, leached hide
Resinous fibers bleached by each, briny tide
Sturdy bough eroded along the jostling ride
O'er time brokered to some distant land
Beached on a coarse, lifeless strand
Each callous band scrolled with the swells you have spanned
Depleted contraband seeking a mending hand
Sweet Connection
There are many resting places
on the trail around the blue lake
that draw us in to sit and relax
at the beautiful park at Mohonk House.
Rough-hewn, weather-beaten benches,
hand-made with peaked roofs,
on high ledges with magnificent views,
comfort sore backs during hikes.
Etched on posts and seats,
are initials and names deeply carved.
My thoughts wander as I run my fingers
over them to caress the souls...
all those who left their mark
from recent days to dozens of years ago...
I bask in my felt, sweet connection
with them in this shared beauty.
Sandra M. Haight
~Honorable Mention~
Contest: The Park
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Judged: 02/20/2016
~1st Place~
Contest: Sense of Touch
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Judged: 09/06/2015
I hear her laughter in the rain
I see her smiling once again
As emotions take me down memory lane,
OH, go away yesterday
Just leave me breathless I implore
As I walk the sandy shore
But she is here no more,
OH, go away yesterday
From my heart a piece was hewn
As she departed to heaven's tune
Was it destiny, she left so soon,
OH, go away yesterday
Must these memories be forsaken now
And leave this sadness on my brow
I sit in silence, my head I bow,
OH, go away yesterday
5-7-18
Contest: Rhyme and Refrain
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Let me own the Night
Let the others play on bright sun-filled days,
in song and merriment, play on.
Let me own the shadows that seep into your soul,
yet still promise hold, a promise of sleep 'til dawn.
With the morning pray.., bring them on gilded and gossamer wings,
for bright is their future with warmth of everlasting hope, and hearts lifted.
I long to be as cold and silent as a blanket of new fallen snow,
to spin webs, translucent, with life ebbing and borne of tragic past.
When, at last, clouds part and ominous foreboding dread flees,
into the corners, hiding..sinless, without remorse or regret.
Let me own this cloak, beautiful as rough-hewn stone,
I no longer seek acceptance, nor call another's fate my own.
May Calliope sing and lull them to a blissful place, redemption their's to keep,
for it was always said that it must be so.
I will continue to turn away from the calamity of the sun,
for what's left unsaid remains unsaid, what's left undone, undone.
No tears will be shed that will be seen where shadows lie,
the dark will hold them, it would seem, and so shall I.
Within the woods, stood a wall of stone
molded by hands from a distant time.
Though roughly hewn, it had endured.
What narratives could it tell of its past,
this ancient bulwark, built to last?
My fingers traced each pitted wound.
I wondered as to the tragic fate
of one missing mortared rock.
I dared to peer inside the hollow;
the scent of age overpowered me.
A sudden dizziness rattled my senses
with a brief glimpse of a long ago battle
when weapons pricked the rampart's bulk.
This bastion had served as a battlement,
a barricade between differences of opinions.
Was the victory worth the lives forsaken?
Because of it, were families torn apart?
With need to offer words of compensation.
I paid homage to the unyielding wall,
whispering, "Stand strong, brave soldier."
October 6, 2020 ~ A Wall in the Woods
Craig Cornish ~ Sponsor
Deep breath
Let it out, carry the blight
Another ... remember the mantra
It is NOT a reflection of my worth - ever
This imbalance, this favoritism ... yet ...
I work tirelessly, intensely
I scrape the walls of my spirit
Wring the drops of creativity from my core
Burn the pulpy paragons of my aim and acumen
All in the efforts to weave the finest fabric from phrase
To spin wonder from words and will
To affect the deepest emotion and imagination and ire
Simply by the ordering and placement of letters on a page
It is my passion - my craft
And I take nothing more seriously
Or more joyously
And no matter how magical the end game
No matter what the fruit born of my most astute energies
I drown in a cipher sea
(And this is not a perspective of arrogance, but rather empirical reality)
Patches of rough-hewn fabric that frays at the edge
Shredded attempts at art and assignment
That are their own worst rags and remnants
But are held up as the golden standard of excellence
And, (I kid you not), wonders of the writing world
Simply because of the signature at the bottom
(And often, a fake one at that)
Though it fails me as to where that absurd accolade originates
Oh, to but query straight out, without reproach -
Where-oh-where, is the ripe in this refuse?!?
What is the redemption you find in these careless phrases?
Stuffy words stuffed into stuffy stanzas
All for the sake of feigned profundity
How can anyone possibly take such transparent text
For anything but mediocrity and mush?!?
Still, the endless comments of adoration ... at a loss
It is a weekly, daily, even hourly poison to my soul
Rending, ragged, my person and fertile prescience
Leaving my hands clenched and blue
My wit and whimsy tattered
My quill filled with blood
And my heart ... taxed and weary.
Erewhile took hoisted oath crushed cod,
'pon Cecilia 'n' cramped Cynthia's nod.
T' his lusty lover he'd rehearsed
pored pledges gored b' lanky love's lurch.
Damp dell 'n forg'ry hewn dark deceit,
'n which sassy smirk 's draped - smothered spree.
Furred fabrics ergo "f cloning sewn
torn was b' bounty blitzkrieg b' time thrown;
"Trade thy love with me. I'll borrow",
thrived oft - offshoot "f th' ticker's sorrow.
But untutored mind 'n deceit lagged
"s her words smarter than visage nagged.
Anon did wielded wits 'witch him,
'n' anon sent he her 'way raging.
'20:07:25:11:00
Note:
a) of damp dishonesty
b) Written apace with Middle English lexis:
i) Erewhile - long ago
ii) Cod - a man
iii) Cynthia - moon
iv) dell - young woman
v) ergo - then
vi) oft - often
vii) visage - face
viii) Anon¹ - immediately
ix) Anon² - At once
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences:
i) 'pon - upon
ii) 'n' - and
iii) t' - to
iv) b' - by
v) 'n - in
vi) 's - is
vii) "f - of
viii) b' - by
ix) oft - often
x) th' - the
xi) "s - as
xii) 'witch - bewitch
xiii) 'way - away.
Painstaking plumes of surest gait
To wield diamond steel over fate;
With slow pair of wit-guarded lips,
As otiose words sway great ships.
Invincible flair and exacting knack
To stand out from the frothy pack;
Ochred with all blue-penciled skill,
For nabob’s dimwits do mimic still.
With the far-scanning aquiline eye
That fowls unborn miles like a spy;
Plus an ear for tiniest voices tuned,
For idlest vowel by vagaries ruined.
Gigantic empathy for pinched souls
Hewn down by lot’s inclement fouls;
Felt tear for fellow wayfarers stung
By blunt luck's blade rashly swung.
A little but constant sacrifice betimes,
For bereft chum eschewed by dimes;
Or even total strangers in want of bail
Out of a jinx along existence’s icy sail.
If the moon should disappear,
And the sea forget her sway,
Would you still walk beside me,
When the stars have lost their way?
Would the tides grow still and hollow,
Would the cliffs no longer sing?
Would the hush of moonless midnight
Steal the silver from the spring?
Ocean tides, so long enchanted,
Whisper dreams I cannot keep—
They retreat with grace unspoken
To the caverns of the deep.
Moonless rides through misted valleys,
Lanes where shadows softly fall—
I have wandered, lone and silent,
Hearing beauty's distant call.
Grace and beauty in the heavens,
Spilled like milk upon the skies,
Cannot paint the ache within me,
Or the hush behind my eyes.
Why can't I be all that you see—
The light, the hush, the summer rain?
Why am I a quiet longing,
Shaped by joy and hewn from pain?
New beginnings bloom around me,
Soft as crocus, fierce as flame,
But I linger with the endings,
Whispering your absent name.
Rivers and streams know how to travel,
Always yearning for the sea—
Still I circle old confessions,
Never quite where I should be.
Behold the dark, and I sigh—
Not for fear, but for its grace,
For in night I see my sorrow
Wearing moonlight's borrowed face.
And if the moon should disappear,
Would the world forget her gleam?
Would I too be lost and fading—
Just a shadow of a dream?