Long Kin Poems
Long Kin Poems. Below are the most popular long Kin by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kin poems by poem length and keyword.
Most are related to shipwrecked ghosts,
accomplices of my blood
that can still be found
in geographically scattered albums.
When there were cities to occupy,
they lived one level below expectations.
Like defective fireworks, some went off early.
A more dedicated few grew old and medicated.
Historically speaking, they forged restraints,
handcuffing themselves to other hard heads.
They built defunct railroads for the Indians
they dug ditches for the sun.
They were navigators of small schemes.
Their brief settlements and abrupt departures
left fuzzy lines on rodent paws.
As a family, we are distant and unknown,
but we do speak to our dead
if they come to call,
after a respectable period
of life-long disinterest.
Alive, yet shaken to the
core of her lovely bones
youngest offspring unexpectedly
lost control of vehicle and groans
papa unable to comfort her,
she inconsolable sobbing tears
muffling thru telephones
safe and sound nonetheless
shook up like rolling stones.
Though dwelling bajillion miles away
in Bend Oregon beloved daughter
endearing supportive words
I tried to say
aware sullen mood
fifty plus shades of gray
impossible mission
to assuage grievous
state, especially cuz
accompanying passengers
namely my sister,
and Dunning family did display
anger at recklessness,
though harsh words
merely exacerbated upset
lass - earlier today
August seventh two
thousand nineteen flay
grant over cockiness
best appeased with je
nais sais quois gentle
kindness versus reprobation,
yet quite aware
castigating shrieks nee,
livid rage reflexive from
kid sister otherwise mellow
nonetheless hardpressed
regarding this fellow
to envision ordinarily
calm, cool and collected
sibling to rage and soulfully bellow,
yet informed charming product begat
courtesy mine biological
flesh and blood no
benefit arises to chastise
i.e. figurative flagellation
pinging hither and yon to and fro
but eternally thankful no loss of life...
whew, this dada would never know
reason nor rhyme
to continue livingsocial
purposefulness would heighten grow
wing suicidal ideation - I haint joe
king absolute zero
willpower to write poe
whit tree and/or flash fiction
decidedly, essentially, fervently toe
tilly tubular lee mein
kampf spirit bro
kin, analogous to falling off
skyhigh wall apropos
bailing out hatch of airplane
minus parachute gratefully dead
upon impact resembling red jello
splattered, the closest
aye attain tubby jiggle oh.
You know, I've been keeping count.
Of the years,
of the friends.
Those gained and lost,
the memories and the cost.
I'm not sure which
has topped the weight class -
the good, the laughs and the light,
or the pain, the loss and that sight.
Of the headstones,
the folded flags;
the mothers' cries
and brothers' eyes.
I know the count of them all.
Today a year goes to rest,
and a new cycle begins.
I beg of Life a reprieve,
a chance less to grieve.
I know not what to offer,
what you would take in trade -
be it a life, or a soul,
part of me or the whole.
Whatever it may be,
however large the demand;
take off this accursed gyve,
and leave them alive.
Be kind to others
As you would have even your ecopolitical enemies
and win/lose ZeroSum competitors
be kind,
feel kinship,
speak kindly,
listen cooperatively,
take turns co-investing in win/win solidarity
with ecological empowering
enlightening interdependent Us.
Be not unkind to
or against Others
As you would not have even your Lose/Lose
non-ecological monoculturing,
out of control,
beyond healthy curiosity,
runaway wealthy StraightWhiteMale privileged,
RightWing negative Patriarchal Capitalists
become un-ecologically unkinned
against you
With the nearly unforgiveable audacity
to camouflage
patriotic nationalism
with anthrosupremacist rights of Earth ownership
to remain stubbornly win/lose
against healthy matriotic ecological views
of cooperative co-empathic integrity
As also Green CoPassionate wants and needs
roots and seeds
for polypathic communication
Refining win/win messages
healthy choices
wealthy voices
that regenerative democratic energy
is not necessarily not PatriarchalCapitalism degenerative
RightWing Yanged-out meanness energy
does not yet equal Yintegral Green LeftWing
exponentially spiraling synergy
As monotheistic Yang
equals not not ecological Yintegrity
exponentially squared
As EarthSpace that kindly matters
is also not not resilient Time
ecologically ex-potentially squared
in-formationally cubed
and kindly spiraling health dynamic
co-relational fractal wealth
Is not quite the same
as either proving
or disproving
that controlling PatriarchalCapitalism
reversed through principles
of both polyculturing and communal
healthy root systemic wealth
begets necessarily ecological kind co-relationships
Not bipolarizing out of control
not judging
disapproving
criminalizing
punishing
taking win/lose revenge
blaming with leftbrain verbal dominance,
overpowering by shaming right mindbody
neuro-sensory
co-passionate prime non-zero kind attachment
Zone of internal
polyentheistic nondenial of divisive secularizing turmoil
inviting WholeEarth Tribal co-investments
re-memeing
cooperative Green Indigenous EarthWomanist
kind memories of PolyCultural Communalists
Who really just don't have time
for all that nonsacred
monotheistic PatriarchalCapitalist sin
and mean ignorance.
Hi biscuit, you’re mighty and cute
So acute in hearing that I’m spearing fruit
Perhaps you didn’t know, I’ve lived in the South…too.
Entertained a name in the halls of high school
I thought it was cool, even back then
We were Rebels
Trivial this trivia of mine
Confuses many versed in sublime
My Confucius IS confusing
As are my rhymes butt
So what if they are
They’re just in my mind
Xposing me in a Leonine wind
(out of the skillet and into the…?)
bhindi, also know as a gem
... we banter in Bantu, know?... KinGumbo?
Layers of players in a game of purr suits
and sLayer the Dragon thought I said suite
So he booked a room and waited for treats
meanwhile…
Derelicts were there as centurion scribes
Bricks they made while recording tribes
Bows they carried low and to the side
... On a long coarse
I watched the hoarse-men ride.
Primus asked and the filly said hey…
Ask again in the proper way
Cute doesn’t cut it, the Cupid had to say.
Especially, if the gravy is grey.
”...oh look Vincent, it’s your lobe dear…” ;)
.
this is written in reply, to someone's reply.
it might not make sense but I hope you enjoy :) x
Form:
...His hand flashed fast, the Colt spoke loudly,
Dalton was struck, flew back wildly.
Silas shifted right, cut down that man,
still fumbling with the gun in his hand.
The other man threw his hands up high,
said Silas, “Run, or you too will die.”
The bandit scrambled, leaving the bar,
Dalton still breathed, but wouldn’t get far.
“In what wourld could we ever be kin?”
snarled Silas, standing over him.
“When you get there, find Satan and tell
him how a Hamlin sent you to Hell.”
Dalton’s breath rasped, the fear present now,
wanting mercy he’d never allowed,
but Silas cared not, slowly took aim,
then sent a bullet straight through his brain.
The saloon was still, people hiding,
Silas straight up, gun still smoking,
said to the bartender, “Sorry for the floor.”
flipped him some gold, then strode out the door.
Zephaniah 3:17 KJV The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.
Grace more abundant
Than words could reveal
Feelings so pure, honest
They color hearts kind
Bring joy and love to mind
Goodness more thoughtful
Than blessings of delight
Glowing so brilliantly
Alive with knowing, insight
Whispers of light shimmering
Psalms praising and playing
On the sun’s soft light
Filling spirits with devotion
Intimacy and inspiration
Amusing the imagination
Prayers of peace and promise
Linger on the palette
Rich with love and kindness
Arousing peace, dancing
With bursts of creativity
God sings , shouts, sends
Blessings we wouldn’t expect
Brilliant, beautiful blessings
Breathed out of God’s own heart
Vibrant, vital and luminous
Faith awakens the assurance
That we have all we need
Miracles we’d never fathom
Wonders so jubilant, dreams
Flowing with milk and honey
Love lingers on those souls
Who know God will complete
Each and every thought – He marvels
In the creation He esteems
His children, His design, His dream
We’re blessed to be kin to the King of Kings!
Most are related to shipwrecked ghosts,
accomplices of my blood
that can still be found
in geographically scattered albums.
When there were cities to occupy,
they lived one level below expectations.
Like defective fireworks, some went off early.
A more dedicated few grew old and medicated.
They built defunct railroads and dug ditches
they later fell into.
They were navigators of small shady schemes.
Their brief settlements and abrupt departures
left fuzzy lines on blacktops and concrete.
As a family, we are estranged and unknown,
but we do speak to our dead
if they come to call, of course
only after a respectable period
of life-long disinterest.
He walked into the dusty saloon,
maybe an hour after high noon,
his face still smooth with the touch of youth,
eyes dead-set on seeking out the truth.
He saw him there, two men at his side,
looking just like his mother described,
the scar, gold tooth...the cold countenance,
Silas knew that he had found his man.
He strode up and said, “You’re Dalton Wise,
you killed my father, so now you’ll die.”
Dalton and the two men looked amused,
said Dalton, “Who’s gonna’ do it, boy? You?”
They laughed again, and young Silas seethed,
said, “For his death, you will answer to me.
You took Joe Hamlin from my mother,
and brought no small deal of pain to her.”
The name caught Daltons attention quick,
“You claim your pa was that weak-willed twit?
Oh kid, your mother has told you tales,
that fool Hamlin did nothing but fail.
“Joe was a coward, a sniveling fool
tuck and ran when we treated him cruel,
a pasty lunger, barely could breath,
much less attract a woman to breed.
“There was a woman, Lauri, I think,
who screamed that we did terrible things,
she pitied the fool, got in the way,
girls shouldn’t trifle with men at play.
“I told her as much, but she kept on,
blathering how we treated him wrong,
one day while smacking that fool’s face in
she dared to stand between me and him.
“With hands on hips, she flustered and fumed,
‘Stop bullying him!’ he small voice boomed,
thinking we wouldn’t lay a finger
on a woman, that’s why she lingered.
“I slapped that yapping to the ground,
took aim and shot that fool Hamlin down,
dragged her to a barn when it was done,
I took my time…had a lot of fun.”
He leered and the other men both laughed,
said Dalton, “What you think about that?”
Silas felt his rage slowly turn cold
as more of this cruel story was told.
“Hamlin couldn’t be your pa,”he said,
“’cause when I took young Lauri, she bled.
Just looking at you, it becomes clear,
Joe weren’t your pa, he’s sitting right here!”
He thumped his chest, just to emphasize,
supreme confidence blazed in his eyes.
“So wipe that bravado off your mug,
we both know that you won’t kill your blood.”
He smirked at the two friends at his side,
not a one showed real fear in their eyes,
said Silas, “If there’s truth in your words,
then I’ll have to get revenge for her.”
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Kin
by Michael R. Burch
for Richard Moore
1.
Shrill gulls,
how like my thoughts
you, struggling, rise
to distant bliss—
the weightless blue of skies
that are not blue
in any atmosphere,
but closest here ...
2.
You seek an air
so clear,
so rarified
the effort leaves you famished;
earthly tides
soon call you back—
one long, descending glide ...
3.
Disgruntledly you grope dirt shores for orts
you pull like mucous ropes
from shells’ bright forts ...
You eye the teeming world
with nervous darts—
this way and that ...
Contentious, shrewd, you scan—
the sky, in hope,
the earth, distrusting man.
Originally published by Able Muse