Long Hunkered Poems
Long Hunkered Poems. Below are the most popular long Hunkered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hunkered poems by poem length and keyword.
...He reformed the routing patriots,
formed a line atop a rise, Perrine’s Hill,
brought in General Knox and the artillery,
commanding the mass through sheer force of will.
He needed to buy time for the main force
to march on and join up in the battle,
the British kept coming, soon to attack,
convinced they still had the patriots rattled.
Before in battle the Redcoats just had
to flash their bayonets in the bright sun,
that was enough to scare Continentals
and assure them the battle was won.
But they were no longer facing such men,
the Americans had learned Europe’s game,
they did not flee at the sight of steel,
gave hard volleys once the foe was in range.
Britain’s field commander, General Cornwallis,
made several attacks to break up the line,
only to run into fire and rage,
with his Redcoats turned back every time.
They he tried to turn Washington’s left flank,
the boldest maneuver of the fight yet,
but the main force had come, and pushed forwards,
striking hard under young Lafayette.
Seeing there would be no quick victory
the British withdrew there forces back,
both armies in defensive positions,
the fight would become a long slugging match.
Soldiers hunkered down as across the fields
artillery thundered and cut loose,
both sides trying to break up the other,
their foe’s ranks they sought hard to reduce.
The heat was such that many of the men,
suffered and even died from heat stroke!
One man passed out and his wife manned his gun,
fighting on alongside all the blokes.
Then Washington sent Nathaniel Green
with artillery up towards Comb’s Hill,
a high position on the British left,
from which the guns could enfilade and kill.
The British saw their hopeless position,
and quickly began an ordered retreat,
marching north towards Clinton’s main force,
having blown their opportunity.
Washington saw his enemy leaving,
and sent Mad Anthony Wayne forward,
to harangue the British as they marched off,
cutting down men despite their good order.
And through the battle ended as a draw,
for the nation it was victory,
they’d kept the field in an open battle,
and matched the Redcoats in soldiery.
This changed the calculus of the whole war,
all knew battles would be more costly now,
England would no longer campaign in the north,
hoping for easier prey down south…
Elegant in burnt orange afterglow,
sparkling starlight opens the show.
Neighbors and strangers appear all aroun’,
porch lights and car lights enlighten the town.
They arrive afoot and atop handlebars.
Tots wave from strollers like famed movie stars.
Mothers bellowing orders to stay in sight,
transgressors will rue being naughty tonight.
Flickering lights and untied laces
nudge fidgety feet through their paces.
Masquerade masks make eager accomplices’
too impish eyes and mischievous faces.
Scowling Jack-O-Lanterns carved in creepy effigies
prove impotent charms to appease candied fantasies.
Festooned arches adorned in orange and black,
ornate ornaments to win the neighborhood plaque.
Into the gauntlet of terror they swarm;
dressed to play in pillaging uniform.
Tree and flower tremble and quiver;
Bumped and trampled in their fervor.
Werewolves wailing through grimacing grins
herald a night of howling hymns.
Ghostly spirits from the bowels of earth,
hang from gallows, grinning in ghoulish mirth.
Silken chains embracing all who stray,
beckons the widow to her frightened prey.
Garnished by cackling cries of certain demise,
steaming cauldrons poach their pitiful prize.
Spades of woe shadow souls who rashly ignore,
ominous omens attached to windows and doors.
Like tocks from a clock they continue to arrive,
will the morrow find anyone left still alive?
Hostiles charitably looting town,
sacks of booty slowing them down.
Toting bags of looted plunder,
looming hordes scatter asunder.
Pass me by, to my neighbor grace his stage,
assuage with him your gluttonous rage.
Rapacious hands swaying in ritual dance,
exuberance untethered in blitzing advance.
Eyeing my castle the rioting rabble rush in,
guarded only by growlin’ dog an’ smilin’ pumpkin.
Upon my stoop they brazenly climb,
my breath on hold, I hear the chime.
My time I fear is near at hand,
my blood or treasure they demand.
Hunkered down and hidden from sight,
no mercy presented for my plight.
With sweaty palms and pounding heart,
please Lord I pray, make them depart.
For a shot of strong “Spirits” I silently scream,
‘cause I forgot the candy on this Halloween!
I drove down the boulevard as I did a thousand other times
Passing by the aged blue-gray house - the bachelor's pad across the street
Hunkered down like storm clouds in a mist of yesterday's legacy
And there he stood....the soulful captive, haunting his past
Black pants with hips flung to the side and held low by his own design
His stance altered the walkway like a steel girder posted upright
His boundless laugh seized the spotlight then scattered like wind chimes
Embracing a sweeter, livelier time before he slipped away
I pulled over to the side of the road to let my illusion wander
Sitting crippled in my car - his entranced prisoner
Pulling in the stardust memories of heading down the artists highway
Driving in his cherry red rock-n-roll car his guitar in the back seat
Where his expression, his music lived in vivid hues of youth
Startling the stage with words of rebellion
Becoming the cause of all the commotion
He challenged his crusade with the heat of revolution
His list was his own, his sequence bore his own evolution
Disobedience for the sake of itself scrolled on his flirting brow
Teasing each consequence with the audacity of sunflowers in the snow
Life was struck as a downer and he a loner
Whose heart yearned for the lyrics to sanctify his "hell on earth" anthems
A hungry wolf in a pack of sheep, growling at his own shadow
Licking the wounds of his notched dissatisfaction
Unable to disguise his truth to fit into his abstract woolly landscape
Always coiled up to the max of his amplified intensity
With his super jet speed brooding melodies
His cool blue eyes, his ocean vastness, his sky all reflected things in motion
All headed down the Pacific Highway in a finned Batman 60's Buick
Colliding with the universe
And memorializing his words of hard and lonely places
Pounding and throbbing with the sounds of his guitar
I drifted back
Losing this poltergeist of the past, this shadowy myth
This specter of a defiant paradox of love and hate.....
As the melody faded I embarked back to my journey
Riding down the boulevard - He in the seat next to me
January 17, 2020
Strand no 650 any theme any form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
I didn’t know that it exists until I see an ant crawling out of a disc, I didn’t know that it exists until I see a beetle from the order of Coleoptera coming out of a hole, and a thousand of them join a procession and marched around a mound that leads towards the heavens.
The early morning warmth races through the back door leaving a multitude of beetle crawling about the floor. There were hundreds of them moving in line heading towards the shores and the metamorphosis begins. Skins piling upon skin and the transformation from nymph to an adult begin and new bugs start moving in.
I didn’t know that it exists until it started to fly at a significant altitude in the sky; I didn’t know that it exists until I saw hundreds of them gallivanting in different directions. They hunkered on the ground and flew around and around; they dilly and dally from corner to corner and mock the beetles on the ground and disappeared in thin air.
I didn’t know that it exists until I stood behind the tree and listened carefully to the hammers and nails, the saws and drills, and the sound of the wood pecker boring a hole in the middle of the tree to hide its friends and family.
The whooper swans with beaks shows up in hundreds and marched towards the fortified walls, I wondered what that was all about and then the tanga bean goose starts to shout, looking for a passage to move across the valley but the woodpecker would not allow them to move one inch further but the bar-headed goose came along singing a happy song and stood in the midst and greet them with a smile.
The wood pecker open the gate and whooper swan, the bar-headed goose and the tanga bean goose and everyone could pass through.
I didn’t know that it exists until the ground dove came out of the hole and the caterpillars start moving underground, the tunnels run in four directions and you could get to four different countries in a jiffy.
There was no land mark for you to start, just a pigeon hole in the ground to lead you where destiny is bound, you across the river and you will find a track across the street when you walk through the pigeon hole.
I didn’t know that it exists until they breached the fortified hill.
It was pretty late in September
and I was over the Billings way
I was riding fence for Freddie White
on the west end of the Rockin Bar J
Well night time can fall pretty early
come along bout that time of the year
I started me up a little fire
and was cleaning up some of my gear
That's when I heard a "Whoo-up in camp"
softly floating over the pine trees
At first I thought it was ole Freddie
come a ridin' out to shoot the breeze
"Come on in" I yelled right back to him
my hand sittin firmly on my gun
When in rides this old bearded cowboy
looked to be bout a hundred and one
Well he said his name to be Johnson
so with that I passed him my name too
Asked him if he'd like to sit a spell
maybe share a little of my stew
For I had gauged him up to be a
decent and right honest man you see
‘Cause he seemed to hold himself just right
and by the soft way he spoke to me
So after we tossed down our bedrolls
and we had hunkered down near the flames
That's when Johnson pulled his red eye flask
we started toasting old cowboy names
Those names like Billy Brooks, Bose Ikard
Goodnight, Conrad Kohrs and Otto Franc
Olly Loving, John Chisum and with each name
we tipped the flask and drank
As all the old cowboys tend to do
we reminisced ‘bout the olden days
And all the things we used to do
while living the good cowpuncher’s ways
How these here youngsters nowadays ain't
got no clue ‘bout how things used to be
When a man could go from here to there
live and ride the range completely free
Johnson had seen just fifteen summers
when he started his first cattle drive
Sixty more winters have passed him by
he said his luck had kept him alive
For him riding herd out on the range
is the only life he's ever knowed
He said he would never trade that way
for no diamonds, jewels or gold
Well just about dawn the next morning
after we shook hands and parted ways
I knew that I too would never leave
behind me, these good old cowboy days
So when you find my bones out on the range
with my gun and saddle by my side
Just know I was still living the cowboy ways
when I took my final ride
Time bracketed between
December first nineteen fifty nine and
December first two thousand twenty three
represents sixty six orbitz
one prized Earthling
named Amélie Beth Harris-McGeehan
completed round the sun.
About half her life linkedin
with spousal enrichment,
(while hunkered down livingsocial
in Woodbury, New Jersey),
hence the hyphenated married name.
Though said endearing eldest sister
approximately thirteen plus months my senior,
ofttimes during mein kampf,
she displayed maternal (motherly) mien.
Back during mine boyhood
dark shadows along the edge of night
(emanating from outer limits
of the twilight zone)
spooked me to flinch
as did appearance
of the boogeyman induce affright
only exacerbated my delicate mental health
punctuated psyche of mine
with disequilibrium psycho-social blight
above named sibling a protector I cite
twilled me in the valley
of love and delight,
an emotional refuge rescued sought
deliverance from anguish
loving succor proffered
peace upon mine body, mind, and soul,
she did immediately expedite
warming cockles of me heart
analogous to affecting, creating,
forging, jumpstarting, offering, and ushering
ideal paradise island temperature
if measured by degrees balmy fahrenheit
pointing, revealing, shining,
and training a guiding-light
unafraid to defend diminutive
docile, inordinately meek brother,
when threatened courtesy bullies
that significantly towered over mine
below average stature height
a measly little skinny, yet zany
(when within comfort of home) lad
naively oblivious to our mother,
when her first born daughter dynamic,
especially smoldering contention
kindled figurative tinder, which squabble
escalated in intensity
sparking vehement feud to ignite
loosing volatile verbal exchange
triggering The Emergency Alert System
to issue warning
lest clear and present danger
(at 324 Level Road)
recorded in history books
licking, overshadowing, rivaling,
and undermining revolution
kickstarted and hashtagged as Jacobite.
Continued from Part 1
The trees, they hang in time and space around me –
trees, which in time before had swayed,
so gently tugged by ocean breezes,
trees, which in time before were lightly lit
with emerald tinted leaves,
trees, which in time before had reached to space above
with twisted tangled fingers,
grasping fingers,
fingers drenched with golden tears
shed by the Mighty Eye.
The trees, they hang in space and time,
benumbed and frozen motionless around me
chilled with rooted premonitions of the void,
their branches clutching darkness
and their leaves foreboding doom.
The muted winds begin to whisper tales
of many frightened things,
which, with mournful apprehension
have hunkered down behind the haze
and ceased their joyful play.
And all the while dank shadows gaily dance
a dismal dance,
for their time is soon to come.
The fitful shore lies suddenly still.
Unfeeling stones and hollow shells,
are paused a little,
stalled,
and dropped haphazardly,
midst their mindless random journey,
now abandoned by the sea,
for fickle waves have slipped away
to greet a falling prey.
And as the Mighty Eye droops lower,
laminated molten lips
are pursed and pucker higher,
sucking in the sky.
Within a trice the Mighty Eye
submits and squints, distended red,
perhaps tormented by fantastic thoughts
of imminent demise,
or else of being lashed beneath a lid
of distant faithless waves.
And as her dying flash dissolves,
two lurid lips arise,
three lusty lips -
a thousand parted limpid lips
which asudden,
though with little haste,
consume the Mighty Eye.
EPILOGUE
The trees are now but lurking shades
amongst the murky shadows.
Relentless fog slips slowly by -
her floating tongues drip silence
as they slink like snakes in stealth nearby.
The lacerated faithless lips have once again returned
to kiss the vacant vapid shores
in a brief eclipse of time.
END
Form:
Once i stood at the peak of mount
seleya
Observing the red sun and dry winds
of the Vulcan homeworld
Surveying the vast desert land in a
cloud of dust
Silently wishing in my heart that it
would rain
That the dry winds of the north would
cease
And usher in a few minutes of the rain
Suddenly a tremor hit me hard
It was so hard that i could barely stand
At first i thought it was an invisible
force
But then, i realised it was an invasion
Droplets of rain from the southern
hemisphere
Came riding on horses like a calvary
First as a drizzle with a gentle breeze
Then it became so cold and chilly
That the spatering rain froze to sleet
I thought that it might snow
Alas! it was too cold to snow
The lands hunkered in the freezing
darkness
I strayed into some caves to pass the
night
Earnestly anticipating an end to the
storm
Scarcely prepared to survive till
morning
But this time,morning may never
come
As the invasion lasted long into the
night
It kept me stranded in some rocky
caves
Then stopped abruptly as it had
began
I was thanking my stars
Only for it to return with a thousand
legions of soldiers
It was an invasion like no other
The waves increased in amplitude
The rain increased in intensity
Huge drops hit with perceptible force
Like stone pebbles on a corrugated
roof
All of a sudden i was back on Mt
seleya
Staring wide into the dry and dusty
desert
Wondering where it had rained
Then i realised it all happen in my
imagination
It was an impossible wish come true
Just when i thought i had seen it all
Slowly it faded unrecoverable
As the faint memory of a dream
First it was an invasion from the stars
At the end, it became a vision
A dream of the stars.
OLANIYAN ISRAEL
An imagination of rain on VULCAN
home world.
Across the sea in a far off land,
Hunkered down in a bombed out farmhouse, a soldier makes his final stand.
Seriously wounded, but no fear does he show,
As the enemy approaches, he’s locked and loaded and ready to go.
As darkness nears this may be his only break,
With night vision goggles on he is willing to give back as much as he must take.
If his ammo holds out he may have a chance,
In hopes that his squad can reach him in their forward advance.
As pain from his wounds are taking their toll.
A vision of getting home to his wife and young son is now his primary goal.
He wipes away sweat even though the weather is cold,
With no thought of quit he waits for whatever to unfold.
Rat-a-tat-tat, the machine guns make their report,
As he holds his fire, at the present, the ball is in his court.
They don’t know for sure he’s there as they try to draw his fire,
As he huddles close to the ground in his own blood and mire.
All at once they are upon him as he raises to shoot,
But the enemy falls before he does and it takes a moment for this to compute.
Then he spots his comrades as they make there way to him,
He said you guys are a sight for sore eyes, he said my chances were getting pretty slim.
They get him to a med-o-vac and back to base,
As they work feverishly to save his life, he loses an arm in this ongoing race.
Weak and weary, they ship him back to the states,
To convalesce, and thank God that his arm, the price he paid for our freedom was to be his
only fate.
He thanked the Lord for sparing him one arm to hold his wife and little son,
He thanked the Lord that he got to come home and his battle was done.
He thanked the Lord for a country that embraced him in his darkest hour,
And to the Lord he gave all Glory and Thanks for His Almighty Power.
Once i stood at the peak of
mount seleya
Observing the red sun and dry
winds of the Vulcan homeworld
Surveying the vast desert land
in a cloud of dust
Silently wishing in my heart
that it would rain
That the dry winds of the north
would cease
And usher in a few minutes of
the rain
Suddenly a tremor hit me hard
It was so hard that i could
barely stand
At first i thought it was an
invisible force
But then, i realised it was an
invasion
Droplets of rain from the
southern hemisphere
Came riding on horses like a
calvary
First as a drizzle with a gentle
breeze
Then it became so cold and
chilly
That the spatering rain froze to
sleet
I thought that it might snow
Alas! it was too cold to snow
The lands hunkered in the
freezing darkness
I strayed into some caves to
pass the night
Earnestly anticipating an end to
the storm
Scarcely prepared to survive till
morning
But this time,morning may
never come
As the invasion lasted long into
the night
It kept me stranded in some
rocky caves
Then stopped abruptly as it
had began
I was thanking my stars
Only for it to return with a
thousand legions of soldiers
It was an invasion like no other
The waves increased in
amplitude
The rain increased in intensity
Huge drops hit with
perceptible force
Like stone pebbles on a
corrugated roof
All of a sudden i was back on
Mt seleya
Staring wide into the dry and
dusty desert
Wondering where it had rained
Then i realised it all happen in
my imagination
It was an impossible wish
come true
Just when i thought i had seen
it all
Slowly it faded unrecoverable
As the faint memory of a
dream
First it was an invasion from
the stars
At the end, it became a vision
A dream of the stars.