Long Indenture Poems
Long Indenture Poems. Below are the most popular long Indenture by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Indenture poems by poem length and keyword.
Female, I felt! Chirped differently than on other days!
As though crying and screaming in many ways
It might not be owing to the change of weather, I know.
Nor, due to the drizzles, visited its nest like a forgotten foe.
I, with my little ability to climb the trees, took the adventure
As though signing with the tree, a unique indenture
I could not find anything unusual at first glance.
Soon, I fell enraptured by a skeptically unsympathetic trance.
I could find something, like an ipomoea black heart vine, sway
And crawling towards the eggs that, like turquoise stones, lay
While I stood dumbfounded, I could witness the frail bird bounce.
And attack the intruder, and his death sentence pronounce
Silence shrouded my so-far self-complacent wisdom.
I backtracked, pondering over the powers of the bird kingdom.
Quote: "From deep within my heart
I always catch the scent of my Beloved.
How can I help but follow that fragrance?" By Rumi
She, an inhale of perfume on a summer day vacant as the scent of rain
when she passes by, every flower mutes and bows to her aerial adventure
truth be told she is the secret of my desire and she drives me quite insane
when she dances the world stands still witnessing our private indenture
she is the compote of my sweet thoughts, the reason I believe in love
Her aroma a signature of passion, an undescriptive calling to my senses
when she sachets my way every star of heaven releases light from up above
she disarms me with her smile and disarms all my defenses
a bouquet of wild flowers in the garden of my dreams , a fantasy of love
she is the H in my big heart and the T of my tomorrows
From deep within my heart I catch the scent of my favorite flower
she is my best loved poem and sensation, she's my girl power.
July 15, 2022
Sponsor Sotto Poet
Contest Name Rhyme Rumi Quote
Cliffs call me; yonder scenes to see,
Not to leave them dearest plains plea;
Seas see the senile sight and smile,
Heart yearns to fly free for a while…!
Faces of human beings here,
Appear clear as they are just near;
Seagulls seem seagulls; crows seem crows,
Flowers run reality-shows…!
Will the vistas same on high cliffs?
Will I see the sea and sole-skiffs?
Do snakes, instead home-pets, creep there?
Do land-sea touch, there, grip your hair?
=====
===
Cliffs stand silent; I understand -
Our holy brotherhood now banned;
Though being on land is pleasant,
Isn't beauty omnipresent?
And so I gladly adventure,
As though curio indenture;
Marvelous feelings venture give,
I could cherish when in grave live…!
O! I stand there; my world gets changed;
Outlooks get my thoughts re-arranged;
Each thing seems great gem of beauty,
Each realm reveals: God on duty...!
19 October 2022
This or That, Vol 14 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
She is one for the ages,
She graced a many a stage.
She is a Mother, She is a Saint
She is immortal, a miracle without restraint.
She draped herself in six yards of blue & white.
She gave her all, pulled all her might.
She said, these are the people of God,
She led towards upliftment, salvation, with her squad.
She roamed the street no one ventured,
She tamed the demons without any indenture.
She served among the poorest of poor,
She was the rarest of rare.
She knew no boundaries, borders didn’t restrict her,
She preached people before politics, others before self, in her edifier.
She with her diminutive figure, dulcet voice,
She with her passion & will, made the right noise.
She left this World a better place,
She left her indelible mark with grace.
She will be revered on Earth till existence.
She is immortal san question.
we sailed to the island, the island, the island
and would stay there evermore
with nothing to read but coconuts
and cocoa berries upon the tree
with no barber, Dennis or lawman
things could ghetto might strange
but we handle a leader (let's call him trumper)
trumper stood higher, and gave a screech
about a returnstile trip to sterilization
we stood up and jeered, Hooray, Hooray
but we be stripwrecked, cousin trumper, said we
what chance are we out in the farsighted lotion
where even the seagirls far outnumber us?
never minding that, he said we'll build a blue one
and us set about chirping down trees
at lust, the crate was finnish
two by two, we crumb aboard
and set snail for big indenture
to scoot for homely bound
but the beauty took on water
and we invaded to another shore
fierce sausages lined the bleachers
farmed with spearmints gone galore
we said our players, it looked like pretend
but the sausages made our breakfast friends!
brer trumper aligned a trick or treaty
the crew lived on believing children for eleventy years
When I was a child
a mere simulation of an adult reconciled,
in the body of a seven-year-old adventurer -
I'd be a scientist, explorer or a writer succumbed to indenture,
as the storyteller, poet of what may lay ahead synchronizing,
visionary hero of the future uncompromising
out of the histories of some reformulated past stabilizing;
guided by grandmother's heart and care
taking in everything with no thought spared,
caught between the dream and its lesson wellspring
and all the heartaches and happiness it may bring
living, loving, measuring everything;
and here I am today, aged and grown
caught by the ebb and tidal edges sown
of where I was to go within its undertow.
I am the legendary me completed and formed
in a legacy that is created by life storms
satisfied and eased and at last at rest
knowing well - who I am today
can be assured -
I did my very best.
Bleak existence portrayed,
nonetheless this (baby
boomer) hybrid dreamer
oft times evocative
edenic reveries bekiss
mine psyche with pastoral trappings
evoking utopian bliss
on par with drawing
winning lottery ticket,
which fantasy I quickly dismiss,
where dolorous voices within me hiss
mocking pipe dream compensating
for unlived life hide miss
whiling away hours
of young adulthood...
this threescore aged man did blithely piss
away enraptured with Swiss
Family Robinson fantasy,
gladly exchanging tsoris
entailing breathtaking adventure
versus sequestered bookishness burr
rowed nose engrossed
with page turner capture
ring imagination of this erstwhile drifter
addressing, fixating, and keeping coiffure
as disheveled appearance, where daily
father and mother showed me the door
particularly on account, cuz for one more
nanosecond, they could not endure
this healthy sole son vaping expenditure
as both parents toiled away,
they tired trying to swallow failure
while primarily main feature
of this poem lackadaisically
exhausted as an Evansburg Park fixture
(calling squirrels on first name basis),
no sooner this bookworm gave vague gesture
after setting foot inside abode - 'pon dusk
asper whereabouts, off
into bedroom I did immure
and disappear into story
maybe one about main
character pledging indenture
role as heavy footsteps shook
324 Level Road domicile infrastructure
awaiting the wrath
of Khan spouting ultimatums
our father/son rapport long did inure
a "NON FAKE" wall not immune
to malicious, noxious, vicious... lecture
to offspring who long outwore his
Harris Tweed Scottish welcome mat,
yet... feared testing nonsecure
mooring which familiarity bred contempt!
In school we're taught that laws will always last
Students were told to chase a college dream
Student debtors hoped their loans would clear fast
Building a world where knowledge remains free
High schools were praised for high admission rates
When their grads went to famous colleges
The government gave loans to fill the gates
Knowing how the price of school increases
Americans filled campuses with hope
The colleges raised fees and opened doors
Loans given with ease, but no way to cope
Put weight on student debtors evermore
This was a way to tie their futures down,
Shifting rules, breaking promises pronounced.
Women took out loans for grad school with trust,
Believing promises their debt would fade
Teachers worked twenty years in class, fair and just
Yet, watched their balance grow and not be paid
Their rising debt brought panic to their lives
They sold her homes and cars to meet the strain
Two decades teaching earned them money's strife
And left student debtors with modest gain
She felt trapped like an indentured servant
Whole interest climbed despite her earnest care
No matter how much she was diligent
No money, no path to get her kids there
Why must a teacher tell students to climb
Weak ladders built on debt for endless time?
End of two sonnets, full stop.
Shining gold afterthought:
Why encourage kids
To indenture themselves
For learning that should be free?