Long Jingling Poems
Long Jingling Poems. Below are the most popular long Jingling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jingling poems by poem length and keyword.
waiting at the gate of blind silence
time has
its moments
often taunting
our emotions
with treadmill journeys
along trails of hopelessness
time tested—
we erect fences
around tender emotions
hiding them in holes of silence
forgetting—
silence like war
breeds naked destruction
indeed there is no equanimity
in the shared pain of love:
each heart determines its own
yet echoes of reality
refuse to fade—
reconciliation’s key hangs
and waits to open gates
through which silence escapes
and battered love enters
bandaged in the shared grace
of giving and receiving forgiveness
once the jingling bell of love is rung
it cannot be silenced:
open your heart and you will hear
and see its screaming echoes
and me standing at the gate
waiting invitation.
where are your eyes in the 11th hour?
do they roam to and fro, roaring
with insipid power, baiting the hook,
fishing for retractable men?
where is your nose in the 11th hour?
is it sniffing out a cesspool of plots,
hanging with odious men by the fire,
drawing in men with deceptive smoke signals?
where is your mouth in the 11th hour?
are you rambling out rhetoric, grandiloquent smut,
smirking, curling your lip, your serpentine tongue
slithering and snapping up every adamic crumb?
where are your ears in the 11th hour?
are they trembling with vibrations of horror,
jingling change from restless legs, harkening to
every pandering pain - every wicked wile?
where is your touch in the 11th hour?
are you reddening faces, tenderizing
every black and blue artery and vein,
darkening the skin of Eve like a cancerous cloud?
~ ~ ~
in the 11th hour, her kind eyes shower,
with rainbow tears, leaping upwards,
bowed in reverent fear, insightful and wise,
vigilant and circumspect.
in the 11th hour, her nose drawn to scents,
yes of honeysuckle and baby powder
but also the downpour of the poor and sick,
attentive to the stench.
in the 11th hour, her mouth soothes
with compassion, just and good,
sensitive to worn out souls, smiling
tenderly, speaking at chosen times.
in the 11th hour, her ears ever alert,
pierced by the outcry of Eve’s children,
drawn to lilting laughs, lullabies and psalms,
anywhere a helping plea sounds.
in the 11th hour, her touch gentle and soft,
changing diapers, dusting off tears, foraging food
for her family and the lonely, handing out hugs,
midnight feet tucking in the sheets.
~ ~ ~
Indeed, the 11th hour is here,
a time where good is called bad
and bad pronounced good.
In the overcast skies,
the spread of candlelight
like stars, so mercifully bright.
As midnight strikes,
each star is gathered like wheat,
the sun and the moon fall asleep.
4/2/2019
‘Immediate arrival inevitable’ - is the message of emergency he receives from his ‘oak-leaf-worn’ military major whose command an Indian soldier can never imagine reacting or refusing. Crimson-clad, nose-ringed, bangles-jingling, now-wed wife resembling an immaculate-milk-flowing-full-moon; no honey-moon and veil not fully removed yet; not completely contented with looking at each other and drinking from their desire-brim-filling-gestures; love-full, lust-full, feeling for each other’s presence full; tears fill her eyes; he has his hidden pains; leaves for his destiny. She…?
Covered black coffin
national flag, dirge, gun-sounds
a puzzled raven
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Santa and his helper elves stacked the sleigh
With presents for children on Christmas Day
Soon off they would ride
Through wintery skies
Jingling bells and Ho! Ho! Ho! all the way.
Rudolph leads the way, he's head of the herd
His shiny nose lights the way undisturbed
He's happy and proud
To ride through the clouds
Bellowing Ho! Ho! Ho! whenever stirred.
Santa Claus sits at the back of the sleigh
Keeping gifts in his sack safe on the way
He has lots of toys
For all girls and boys
A big Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa has to say.
Singing Christmas Carols all journey through
As Jesus is the gift for me and you
The night casts a spell
O’er earth all is well
And there’s Ho! Ho! Ho! from Santa and crew.
When Santa's work is done then there is fun
As Christmas celebrations are begun
Fairies and elves dance
And the reindeer prance
Ho! Ho!Ho! another year's task finespun.
*+*
3rd December 2022
Children’s Limericks Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
The gurgling of the brook
Daisies swaying on the bank
As light as a feather I am, to look
Problems tossed with the stone that sank
The wind chime music, playing light
Jingling in the soft breeze of air
As light as a feather, I take flight
My mind is floating in ways I care
Clouds travel above me in the sky
Moving in patterns to see
As light as a feather, I watch them go by
Dreaming of places I want to be
Soft Dandelion seeds circle in wind from flowers
In an open field, where I am free
As light as a feather, like soft rain showers
In a ballet dance between each tree
As light as a feather, where I have peace of mind
As light as a feather, in these discoveries I find
Heidi Sands
7/30/22
whispering ...
"teach me", you say
lips pressed like butterfly wings to my ear
straight to my heart, and in turn to my nucleus, roaring
all things unknown, dance like jesters between us
bells jingling with mad mystery
experience, a two-headed serpent, hissing
naïveté charming it to stillness
the slow sway of callow tenderness
clean, unblemished surfaces waiting for a new story
the trace of sexy phrases in carnal cursive
that exquisite story waits, breathless
for the bloom of true love and passions, pure
and it will wait longer, my sweet
for the proper miracle ...
and starlight.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "End January 2019 Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
From the carnival circle race goes off the course
the vintage carousel of bobbing corralled horse,
galloping skyward from the field of fiesta fair
through the music of wind jingling everywhere.
With teen fantasy on ornate steed out of chain,
he holds the rein in the strands of ebon mane,
canters up above the spire of the castle in the air,
far from the meandering rivers on the land bare.
In sprightly strides his reverie climbs the space high
to the conclave of clouds caressing the satin sky.
Returning after merrily going round the land of fairy,
on the carousel of life all his dreams he’ll carry.
April 5, 2020
Contest : Carousel Picture Prompt
Sponsor : Eve Roper
lovely dancing stream
snaking it's way down the slopes~
with soft jingling sounds.
/ \
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its way down the slopes~
with soft jingling sounds.
“*” “*” @ “*” “*”
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I was inspired by Silent One's contest and wrote this Lyric and a quick song that I will put here. I was rushing, but then realized I didn't just want the Lyric put in the contest separate. So I am just entering both here. Besides, I don't like it all that much ..lol. So I thought I better post it instead of getting rid of it. Also, not sure if you hear any jingling . If so, that's just my dog's tags in the background lol
If only you knew me
Oh, if you only knew me
Oh, if only you could see me
Oh, if only you knew me
We’d solve the mystery
If only you knew me
From the mountains to the sea
If only you knew me
We could fly, oh so free
You’d be surprised!
Music
Chorus:
We’d dance in the clouds up high
And brighten the whole sky
We’d spread the colors far
And catch every shooting star
We’d dance and we’d dance until moonlight
We’d dance and we dance through the night
You’d be surprised!
Chorus Repeat:
We’d dance in the clouds up high
And brighten the whole sky
We’d fly for all the miles
And spread one thousand smiles
We’d dance and we’d dance
In the moonlight
We’d dance and we’d dance
Through the night
Oh, if only you knew me
Oh, if only truth would be
Oh, if only you knew me
We’d solve the mystery
Oh, if only you knew me
Along each river and stream
Oh, if only you knew me
Follow the shining moonbeam
Chorus Repeat:
We’d dance in the clouds up high
And brighten the whole sky
We’d spread all the colors far
And catch every shooting star
We’d dance and we’d dance
In the moonlight
We’d dance and we’d dance
All through the night
You’d be surprised!
Heidi Sands
8/26/19
In the regal modesty
of a Nubian queen,
there she sat
at the edge of the water;
her legs hanging over.
In the wet softness thereof,
her feet rested. Yet her stare over the pool
was as if staring over the ocean—
A centuries old innate yearning—to a distant
motherland; a stoic pose of freedom…
But not at last.
Life and living still had its hidden shackles.
Muffled hidden shackles…jingling
in the ‘land of the free and the home of the brave’.
Despite the ‘white washing’,
the cleansing of the ‘shocking
bottoms’ and the paneling
of the old quarters,
the land of ‘first sails’ and cardinals,
remained a mess.
What a strange equality?
Though the past had gone—as had time—
it remains. And the future waits
a distant reality—lingering. Lingering in the land
‘…for lovers’—where true justice remained jilted.