Long Knapsack Poems
Long Knapsack Poems. Below are the most popular long Knapsack by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Knapsack poems by poem length and keyword.
We’re not a prisoner of yesterday,
Nor a hostage of tomorrow.
Collect the lessons from the past,
But leave behind its sorrow.
In the present we are shining,
Plumes of incandescent light.
Where everything is possible,
Where wrongs can be made right.
Stop. inhale, believe in yourself,
Put down your knapsack of fears.
Feel the warm sun upon your face
Evaporate sorrow and tears.
As a river tracks toward the sea
Following each twist and turn,
So you and I must walk the road,
Tread the path we cannot spurn.
Life carries us, it ebbs and flows,
It”s course is predefined
Just as the moon pulls at the tides
Our fates our intertwined.
We are valued and unique,
We all have a life to live.
Don’t give up on what you seek,
You still have so much to give.
So let go, learn how to trust.
You have power to see this through.
It’s not a case of “twist or bust”
The future”s down to you.
Seize the day, “carpe diem”,
Appreciate all that you are.
Be calm, relax, find your “zen”
Shine like the brightest star.
We only have one go at this
Our time is very brief.
Life is too precious to dismiss.
So get some self belief !
11/14/16
To be honest across this Earth's soils
Conflict and turmoil
That dates way back
Far before spacecrafts, state maps
Or being able to make cash
Opportunity don't waste that
Take a chance
Get on that A.S.A.P.
Before it goes down the drain fast
A long forgotten stash sat
By an abandoned hatchback
With broken and cracked glass
Cults and rituals, one of which is a black mass
Test conducted with lab rats
Some ships at a half-mast
I'm not affiliated with Aflac
Or Nasdaq
On social media, so much sad crap
And backlash
Like a toy dog some just want to yap yap
Even though there softer than a flap jack
Better watch yourself and bag back
Before we really see who has the last laugh
Went out in the wilderness to backpack
With a knapsack
Set up camp at an open grass flat (patch)
In specific things time and or money was invested
As far as recollected
The objective
Changed perspective
And all method within a second
During a time that was festive
It turned out to be effective
Yet unexpected
Certain areas and locations infested
Individual organisms infected
By: Dalton Ogletree
I strolled out to my favorite fishing hole,
with my knapsack and my fishing pole.
The fish I caught, gave me a flipper wave,
and asked, "How are you doing, Dave?
"I'm doing well, but if it's all the same,
how the heck did you know my name?"
He said, "if you don't mind my saying so,
you'd be surprised what a fish can know."
It's confounding, difficult to believe,
just what a top-shelf fish can conceive,
but what chills me to the very bone,
is the other things that trout had known.
I usually hold my cards close to the vest,
but it wasn't long before I confessed.
Pretty soon, the sheriff dragged the lake.
I told the judge it was a bad mistake.
It really doesn’t matter
how far you may go in a day,
whether ten, hundred, or thousands of miles,
because the place you fall is the place where everything ends.
For life is drifting water in a cycle of four seasons,
whether you possess more compared to others
or you don’t have a thing,
why not just move along with the water
carrying a worn-out knapsack on your back
that is slightly arched from burdens you have carried all along.
No matter how high you may fly, some day,
you must fold your abused wings and sit on a treetop
to watch your own gruesome shadow becoming a lonely tombstone.
Oh, I came a long way and am exhausted;
why not lie here without thinking any thing
anymore and fall asleep.
AN EPIC STORY- FICTION
In a chase, she rode far east at the sun's wake,
the wind daintily throwing her wig as the horse tread
into black fields in dawn's glare,
stained red with a colour of her days;
her thighs grew weary,
dangled like broken mahogany,
tugging pain into grey eyes,
as blood thickened over cold gash.
she stumbled off the horse at the sigh of a swooshing arrow,
aimed at her son but pierces her heart,
drawing her last breath unto the
canvas of the morning sky;
nursed to sleep by the earth
in the sight of her creator,
she died for one.
shrills...
Her young awakened at the fall
shrouded in a dark veil
fastened around her back like a knapsack,
his wails jolted her breathless self, but to no avail
the sun fell at the rise of an evil in the west
a mother's love put to a fatal test,
a death or a death,
but her son liveth
saved by her last breath.
For she had climbed down a window a night before,
facing a street hazy with smoke
and red with blood and fire,
but with the wound on her limb festering
from a cut in the moment of her flee
she couldn't get too far,
even on a horse's back,
but her son was safe,
only for a day
longer than it would have been,
for the fields were no place for a new born.
There was no activity at all in the prairie on this marvelous day.
Peaburger was happy to be off on his journey, on his sweet way.
Had a knapsack on his back, and warm ideas in his adventurous heart.
He could hardly wait to get away from his ex-wife and make a new start.
Ex-wife had moved back in with her new husband and their kids five.
He did not care if he ever again saw any of these prairie dogs alive.
His ex-wife came to the mouth of the hole and yelled “happy be!”
He rolled his eyes, not caring about her, or her new husband Gree.
I am just too generous, too giving, the always-will-finish-last kind of guy,
He lamented as he walked, talking himself into being meaner with try.
Around noon he got out a peanut, and started to eat with his crackers.
He was promptly surrounded by five hungry spotted nutcrackers.
He rolled his eyes to the sky and asked “Why God? Why me?”
He had given those nutcrackers all his food by a quarter until three.
I'm doomed to always be that kind of guy he lamented to angels above.
Young frisky prairie dog who had been watching promptly fell in love.
He wakes up in the morning
Underneath the overpass
He prays this day before him
Will be better than the last
This too shall pass
Digs into a knapsack
Searching for his one clean shirt
Packs up on his old bike
And he peddles down to church
Smiles hide the hurt
Lift your hands up, lift your hands up Jimmy
Lift your hands up, Jimmy lift your hands up
Lift your hands up, lift your hands up children
Lift your hands up, children lift your hands up
The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand, children
Living off the radar
Some look through him like a ghost
They see he's not like they are
But he has more than most
He still has hope
A life once ordinary
He just made a few wrong turns
Got too close to the fire
And Jimmy, he got burned
Life lessons learned
Lift your hands up, lift your hands up Jimmy
Lift your hands up, Jimmy lift your hands up
Lift your hands up, lift your hands up children
Lift your hands up, children lift your hands up
The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand, children
Walk a mile in his shoes
If you want to understand
Only Jesus knows his heart
The true measure of the man
Part of God's plan
If you see Mister Jimmy
Won't you stop and say hello
You might have something in common
You never know
We all travel the same road
Lift your hands up, lift your hands up Jimmy
Lift your hands up, Jimmy lift your hands up
Lift your hands up, lift your hands up children
Lift your hands up, children lift your hands up
The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand, children
©2017.
Reaping the Benefit
The midday sun blazed on the field
Where parched crops refused to yield
A barren sprawl that awaits cool rain
To yet again produce the grain
Trespassing a way upon this land
A shrewd eyed man, detector in hand
And knapsack wobbling on his back
As yet no find to make a stack
The time went by upon this plot
The dying day no longer hot
Shadows spread across the ground
The elusive treasure still not found
The fading sun took pity on the gent
A dying ray of amber hope was sent
It alighted on a beer can ring
And turned it into gold from tin
It nestled amid a shriveled vine
The sun had given it a lustrous shine
The man could not believe his luck
He dropped to his knees and picked it up
He cast the detector to one side
His skyward glance was gratified
The precious gift was in his hand
A ring of gold, an eternity band.
The moon now gazed from obscure sky
On table top it did espy
The golden ring next to the bed
And sleeping man in his homestead
Its lunar rays cast light from dark
To sit on the ring and leave its mark
From gold to tin it was transformed
The ring to beer pull newly formed
if i had a thumbtack
for every
promise i made you,
i would
prick my own finger
in the
name of truth for i
never told
it
the donkey would run
for the
hills and float on
air while slowly
going down for the
sweet center
of your heart....i
could never hold
it
the greatest blue
day is when the moon
is
half seen as a
symbol if life's oft
forgotten
imperfections
we are vulnerable to
its touch and as a
result reveal
secrets unbeknownst
to us
that we still think
is safely locked
away in
protection
now i pay the price
with all the air
that i breathe
for your wilted
heart i will even
give up my greatest
possession to
receive
you can be a
habitual liar or
just constantly
deceive
just the essence of
your presence will
for me be the
greatest reprieve
The sun peeks his face out from the passing wind
still chilly and cold, and in this air the tree branches
stretch their arms to hold the sun as if sails on the deep and gray sky
The sun that is out of reach of a hand
may be a hope; no, it ought to be a hope
One night I saw a wayfarer, becoming a moonbeam,
going toward April stepping on the footmarks March
has left behind
Although he has gone through so many hills and high waters
with a knapsack on his back that was full with the countless
sentiments he put in it for pity’s sake, the sack was emptied;
for the lapse of time makes things wear and tear
his garment was worn to rags, and when the wind
passes through it penetrates the garment to chill the bone
The deep anxiety he is unable to shake off, and therefore,
reflected on the running water murmuring through the field
as ripples of moonbeam, which is not from the fleeting of time
or his sufferings while he was walking among the foes, but because
he is sorry for and worries about friends he has to leave behind
The friends, not many in number shared his happiness
at the time of banqueting, surrounding the table though
plain and simple, abundance in God;
at the time counting the falling stars lying on a stone pillow
by the gap between rocks. The friends, not in damnation but
in endurance and warmhearted understanding, talked about better day to come while burning the passions in the bone fire on a day when they were wet and shivering in early spring drizzle
For the days he was with his friends were too short,
it caused him an embarrassment in counting the days,
yet they were unforgettable moments of joyous and happy experiences
As he walked through the field with friends he talked about tomorrow
standing on the hill top side by side, he asked them to pray for him,
sitting on the sands by the water he sighed for he has to leave
the friends, the sweet and bitter memories behind
Nonetheless, he cannot just stand by a roadside as an emotionless stone,
he crosses the hill under the shade of a waning moon, and when
the humble hearted teary-eyed wanderer blooms as a lily on the other side of
the hill in dawning, the sunray fall on the lily on the dew
as hope to those who remember him, as happiness to the friends
he left behind, as the covenant of the Lord to all who trust in him