Long Large number Poems
Long Large number Poems. Below are the most popular long Large number by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Large number poems by poem length and keyword.
man cub Mowgli was to life once more,
in our boyish pranks in Kanha Park,
revived memories of Kipling’s lore,
from early dawn until moonless dark.
that joyous kid smiled within our hearts,
as we drove through thick Sal, bamboo trees,
with flowers and fruits in forest marts,
bird species haggling for honey bees.
vast lakes and meadows with grazing deer,
friend langur keeping watch from the top,
gives warning chatter when danger’s near,
alerted cheetal deers prick ears and stop!
winding roads take us deep, deep within,
eyes search for the big elusive king,
a growl, a loud purr, a fearsome grin,
majesty walks, birds hurry to wing.
marvel of stripes on shades of saffron,
he saunters across at his own pace,
no fear, no pressure, not one to run,
God made forest for his holy grace.
nothing dictates his tasks for the day,
he owns it all, forest entire,
jungle folks scatter, make him his way,
his wish their do, their life his desire.
Balu the bear showed up late at night,
rummaging food amongst forest trees,
cloaked black to avoid unwanted fight,
he walked past us to look for bees.
we relived famous tale once again,
boyhood gone, all aged past sixty,
Kanha washed us clean of all life’s strain,
brought happy days, for which we were thirsty.
9 syllables each line
abab rhyme sequence
Inspired after a week in Kanha and Bandhavgarh forests in Madhya Pradesh in India, home to a large number of tigers that we had good fortune to see. This is the setting where Kipling’s Jungle Book is based. You can find all his characters including Kaa the python, Bagheera the leopard, Balu the bear, sher khan the tiger. We were the Mowglis!
...The blame lies most on the teachers,
all hell-bound to indoctrinate,
openly praising socialism,
don’t even bother hiding their hate!
They preach of using the system
to bring about their 'better world,'
then fill our kids with mindless crap,
theories that make good people hurl.
And for those in doubt about this,
think back to summer, 2020,
the riots that killed three-dozen,
burned down and hollowed our cities,
look back at the arrest records,
how many were ‘educators,’
it’s a frightfully large number,
and it leaves me rather disturbed.
These are the people teaching kids,
the same who hate their people in full,
No wonders our kids are ruined,
uncurious, brainwashed, and dull.
All protected by big unions,
laws that keep them from being sacked,
and protecting countless pedos
who in just worlds would get the rack.
They don’t talk about that secret,
molesters sent to ‘rubber rooms,’
people who should be fired and jailed,
protected from meeting their doom.
The amount of this stuff in schools,
the predators with designs dark
makes the sh-t with the Catholic church
look like a nice walk in the park.
If Covid has proved anything
it has made clear to countless folk
that their kids don’t need public schools,
much of what they teach is a joke.
Better to homeschool your children,
far greater results for their mind,
taught by people who value them,
flexibility for their time.
The statistics are evident,
the morality much improved,
better people, better thinkers,
less angry teens, violent and lewd.
If it means one parent can’t work
that’s a sacrifice you should make,
our greatest task in this lifetime
is to raise up a person that’s great.
And if you still cannot do this,
find private schools or religious,
free of the woke teacher’s unions,
they are still not a total loss.
You brought a life into this world,
there’s no future without good men,
don’t send you kids to public schools,
you’ll only be ruining them.
Emerging sex scandal on the "Gaza flotilla": the organizer slept with all the activists. The "key organizer" of the world's most humane flotilla engaged in intimate relations with numerous mission participants right on board. On previous flotillas, Israeli military reported finding an anomalously large number of used and new condoms on the vessels. Was Greta Thunberg among them—we have no clue.
They went to break though sea blockade
Bring light to needy Palestine
A worthy cause when one is jade
A trip of orgy, by design
The amazons of our times
Or rather "dames on the loose"
Accuse Zion of awful crimes
For "noble cause" enjoyed abuse
To screw like there's no tomorrow
Abandon hubbies and proceed
Support Hamas, by moans and sorrow
No doubt, a courageous deed
When yacht becomes a battleground
Heroic act was their protest
Thereafter, all went homeward bound
Tight-lipped about "two bar" test
April 15, 2026
With a fragrance resembling honey and milk,
delicate buds appear as if they’re made of silk.
They emerge from sturdy framework of green,
ascending the walls in this springtime scene.
Long vines with ivory, gold, and rubies
rise like skyscrapers of many stories.
Their delicate children are beautiful.
Cherish them, for they are ephemeral.
How wonderfully the flowers scent the spring air;
proliferating and growing without care.
Like young maidens bending to brush their hair,
these children yield to the wind dainty and fair.
Re-emerging from a winter’s slumber,
the blooms disseminate in a large number.
" One man's junk is another man's treasure" - author unknown
To some, old collectables and antiques are nothing but junk,
even heirlooms kept safely in their grandmother’s old trunk.
They say antiques sales are diminishing and not as popular today,
but I believe antique collecting is still an interest and here to stay.
It’s fun to go antiquing on the weekends for old forgotten treasures,
buying trinkets to discover their provenances by researched measures.
Exciting to imagine the energy and stories the antiques may hold,
and delightful when finding collections of history so rare and old.
An old empty apothecary bottle that once held medicine to treat the flu,
or helped saved the life of a sick family's toddler when he was only two.
The old handmade quilts and lace doilies that are now dull and faded,
some kept as cherished family gifts and some bartered and traded.
The beautiful Currier and Ives fruit print I found today for sale,
with foxing and colors not as vibrant and some getting pale.
I wonder the story it holds, was it in a mansion or a small home,
displayed as a collection of art or in a shack on the wall alone?
Garage sales are popular places today to find antiques and old junk,
seeing the large number of people who stop can’t be debunked.
Antique collecting is here to stay and will regain popularity,
and still exciting when finding a treasure that is a known rarity!
3/4/23
Contest: Writing Challenge -" J " words Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Autumn, the present season
Changes of cadences and colors
It's a very charming time
Which only lies in errors.
The leaves are no longer green
Except those of the everlasting firs
A large number of sentinel birds
Leave, because they are less alert.
Autumn is a beautiful and dark season
Which is between the cool and the cold
It's time to decorate the homes
For the feasts of the believers, and for the loas.
Autumn is here; the leaves are falling
On the damp lawns and on the graves
Winter will be more severe this year
And the buds will be absent on the glaciers.
Autumn is picturesque and melancholic
The ladies start to hide their bodies
Bit by bit. The smiles become dramatic
As we celebrate the living and the dead.
Copyright © October 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Your life is at times hard and the noise from the
obnoxious crowd around you can be so painfully loud.
Performing music for a living is not what people
expect it to be and I know you must feel so tired.
It's understandable if things get rough and suddenly
you feel like you just want to hide from the crowd.
For all their trolling you still have inner beauty so
ignore the loud haters who boldly play in your face.
It's sad that so many low vibrational people all over
the world will claim to care and will start to judge.
But even if it hurts deep down the thing that they
don't know is their karma cannot replace your grace.
Even if I don't know you at all I sincerely wish you well
and I hope you keep singing your beautiful tune.
I hope you trust that there are kind-hearted people
all over celebrating you and hoping you get better.
You have never been wicked or cruel so I hope good
things happen to you between right now and next June.
Disclaimer: I wrote this for Ariana Grande after seeing a large number of online bullies and trolls mocking her struggles. She might not ever see this poem, and that's okay. The point I am making here is that regardless of public opinion, she is still a human being worthy of compassion and respect.
Boby Shafto was just told to go
When made redundant from P&O.
He’s annoyed with the company’s gall
They only dismissed him by video call.
They just gave him hours too pack,
No appeal allowed, he’d got the sack,
But there’s nothing more he can do
They’ve been replaced by agency crew.
He had to sign on at the Dole
No jobs at steel or old King Coal.
Modern work’s changed that’s a fact
Now they have Zero hour contracts
And Politicians just don’t give a toss
As long as companies don’t make a loss.
Wasn’t it a Minister of State who said it
Subsidise slave wages with Tax Credit
He’s heard all about the hardship
Of trying to survive on basic PIP.
He thank the Lord he has no wife
As he starts his unemployed life.
He’s got redundancy cash to be fair
But maritime jobs are so very rare.
He remembers when the port was full
And a huge fishing fleet sailed from Hull.
He’s not used to being at home,
Used to having the world to roam.
Bobby’s glad he wasn’t born too late
To remember when Britain was Great.
Now we’re run by pimps and whores
Hiding their money in funds offshore,
An economy that limps and stalls
A pound that sharply rises and falls,
Not helped by that disastrous exit
Caused by a minority voting Brexit
They still wave their Union Jack
They think they’ve got the country back.
P&O continues and is thriving still.
After massive cuts to its wage bill,
Bobby Shafto’s still back on shore
No job for him at sea anymore.
The shipping company P & O dismissed a large number of staff, without prior notification or negotiation, by Zoom. They were given just hours to leave their ships. Replacement Asian crews were waiting on coaches to replace them. Their wages were well below the rate agreed for British seamen, saving the company millions.
Autumn, the present season
Changes of cadences and colors
It's a very charming time
Which only lies in errors.
The leaves are no longer green
Except those of the everlasting firs
A large number of sentinel birds
Leave, because they are less alert.
Fall is a beautiful and dark season
Which is between the cool and the cold
It's time to decorate the homes
For the feasts of the believers, and for the loas.
Autumn is here; the leaves are falling
On the damp lawns and on the graves
Winter will be more severe this year
And the buds will be absent on the glaciers.
Autumn is picturesque and melancholic
The ladies start to hide their bodies
Bit by bit. The smiles become dramatic
As we celebrate the living and the dead.
Copyright © October 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
This is a translation of the poem: 'L'Automne Est Là' by Hebert Logerie
Wild willow tears
A poignant elegy to ecstasy
weeping as if embraced by a light breeze
Suspended in a sad splash of water
Her eyes drooped
regarded the aqua pond
There are willows in her bay
Her tears are trickling down
You are unable to view them
What calms her down?
One day, the breeze will blow
The west wind comes afterward
from heaven's womb
There is a wind gust
wears a harp around her neck.
A melodic song with tragic lyrics
Joyousness is a tear-drying balm
at the point of trembling happiness
constantly fit and linked together.
visually stunning river
upon waking up from a nap
spend some time in the shadows
that break off individual strands
and a soft, soothing touch.
in a dazzlingly large number.
Refreshing and toning the skin
the furrows between its eyes
But bound amid the forest quiet
How painful those tears were!
The tone is still cold and aloof
as a toast to the ecstatic fits
Moreover, all over its bosom
No feelings are leaking through
although stirring and twisting.
The delights they find beneath
Yield the willow a little melody
the wandering weeping willow
That's a sure way to deflate spirits
Summer's conception dates.
Written: January 03, 2023