Long Leap out Poems
Long Leap out Poems. Below are the most popular long Leap out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Leap out poems by poem length and keyword.
A game of hide and seek breaks out
In the living room I duck behind the couch
Like a ninja on vacation
My dog trots by
Sniffing
Chuffing
Absolutely unconvinced
Until I pop out with a peekaboo
She jumps
Like she just met a ghost wearing my face
She sprints around the house
In victory laps of pure joy
Tail wagging so hard
It could power a small village
I pretend I meant to hide better
But she’s already celebrating her win
Like she solved the world’s greatest mystery
Round two begins
I “stealthily” slide behind a door
My dog staring straight at me
Because I’m terrible at this
Yet she still plays along
Bless her goofy heart
When I leap out again
She wiggles with delight
As if hide and seek was the greatest game on earth
Updraft lifts limbs, leaves scurry like mice exposed
Mother Nature shakes shorebreak, incline imposed
Gnaws at sand buried tree toes gnarled, spit polished
Hourglass chamber sugar dwindle, dunes demolished
Churning chant casts a melancholy spell, people powerless
Moan of manic Manager’s anger depicts dreary dourness
Man on the Moon cheese puff cheeks chew mushy monsoon
Rain runs through town, to be trapped by typhoon
Form of parading peacock, pigment stripped, fan feathers vibrate
Look - at - Me Leuca’s lazy turns spur first hurl of weather irate
Fancy fowl foxtrot gathers gusts in her skirt skitter spin
White witch whips wind, water waltz whirls, wild chagrin
Hummingbird hurricane hovers over ocean, dizzily dragged to occult
Sect stretches elastic strap string - tied to tornado’s tumult
Brash as a bastard coconut afloat on Baltic Sea, bashes calm ground
Leuca retracts tail regal, regrettably her force flung coast bound
Cranky current circus tent cyclone, lions leap out of hoops
Lost roof iron roams rogue across roads while Princess Leuca loops
Serene above storm, she surveys scatter, stricken war worn love lorn
Tree tremors drip torrid toll, feet attach fresh turf, in readiness reborn
12th March
Thankfully only a tropical low
hit coast of Oz
Ho’oponopono
forgiveness a virtue
virtue an attribute
requiring identity
needing healing
thus choosing
forgiveness
as a tool
no matter
Ho’oponopono forgiveness prayer
has four seemingly easy steps
softening attention in silence
first of all we say ‘I am sorry’
ouch!
many stuck at the first step
conceding we have erred
making hearts asunder
for what matters the truth
if love itself stands abandoned
we pause
reflecting that we are all one
the one we love is in anguish
leap out! reach out in embrace
brooking not for an instant, delay
say, say, please say, ‘I am sorry’
load lightens
our heart begins to tremulously smile
vibrationally, we draw near our love
‘please forgive me, my dear heart’
simply know this: ‘I love you!’
then, the quietus
having stepped forward into the mist
suffused with God’s love vibrations
in gratitude we say ‘thank you!’
lingering for eternity thus
time dissolves
the void of oneness alone remains
pulsating with omnipotent power
our lower ego mind vaporises
we accept all as they are
transcending the need
to forgive, because
there is no one
here within
save love
02-May-2021
LANTERNE PHRASIS 3
Tedium ends with the setting sun,an
angled view that reaches into life.
Loud sighs,piercing eyes that erupt
from unconscious minds.A lyrical dream
abstract fantasy of multiple emotions
that leap out in varied shapes,
an angst of moody blues in a
perversity of remembered views
that climb into the staircase of
the mind.A chaos with no focus
point,images shadowing the floor
as in a dream near and far and
beyond as random gestures
inwards&upwards that launch
a thousand still lifes,with slow
soaking stains into evolving
moods that pass away with
time in gray graduations.
From my Lanterne poetry publication 2005
Listen to me recite this part phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthys chiro
Had a beard since nineteen sixty-two
Hate to think what's underneath
Might even be a family of boat people
Maybe an old Christmas wreath
Heard that it's even quite possible
Animals have been known to survive
In the depth of my hairy countenance
Where they multiply and thrive
Haven't felt much movement lately
Though sometimes I feel a twinge
Perhaps whatever is living in there
May have gone on a drunken binge
Bottom line is I'll still have this beard
When they lower me into the ground
Don't dare shave it off for fear little beasties
Will leap out and scurry around
© Jack Ellison 2012
As I stand before this old, dilapidated house,
A structure fast decaying and about to crumble,
With its walls painted grey and white,
And the plaster bearing cracks and marks,
Memories leap out,
From the moss-grown crevices of my mind,
Like snakes uncoiling, rather like bees swarming,
Fragmented, scented, and sour!
I remember my old maternal uncle,
Who had turned a widower at forty-one,
The presiding deity of a joint family of sixteen.
Most of the time he sprawled in the armchair,
In the enclosed patio of this big house.
In the living room was an old grandfather clock
Ticking away like the faint heartbeat
Of that decadent house with crumbling plaster
He had seen heydays with many ceremonies of great fanfare,
When the house used to board all kith and kin,
And the granary was full of paddy and tons of black gold
But as time slowly weakened his torso
The house too lost its onetime splendor.
His children got scattered far and wide.
They went to hoard fortunes abroad.
But grand uncle refused to move away.
One day he left the house orphaning it for ever.
Now the house is sadly left to total decay.
Its life gone, its soul frozen,
A fragment of an old memory.
Though once I thought I had escaped,
The compulsions of the past
Now I discern, I am still pinioned by it!
As I stand before this house, my ears perk up,
For the lovely sounds this house once produced
And pine for the love
That once so luxuriously bloomed around!
I have had a black and white print on my wall for years
it is by Karl F. Halder from his photo portfolio
it is a calico kitten perched on the edge
of an old wooden window with white lace curtains
it takes me to a time and place in my life
when I was lost, alone and in total poverty
I first saw the print in a second hand store
but did not have the money to buy it
I would visit the store and look at the print
and the lady at the cash would smile at me
something about that kitten ready to leap out from that ravaged
building
called to my soul and gave me hope for myself
one day, I had the money to purchase it
but when I went to the cash, the lady took off the price sticker
and handed it to me with a smile
we have been on a long journey, this print and me
__________________
January 19, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/the black and white print
Copyright Protected, ID 01-634-573-19
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, A Strand (1071)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 02/12/2022
First Place
How do you feel about Mondays? The ultimate best psychiatrist would ask if he cared.
Not about your mother, or your childhood, ridiculous lovers, or feelings never shared.
Monday feelings are the top dog meter, to discover if you are living life as you.
Do you leap out of bed, ready and happy, or do you clobber your alarm clock with your shoe?
If you cannot wait to put on your clothes, throw open the shudders and do the happy dance,
If Mondays makes you smile, giggle, and laugh, possibly skip, hop, twirl, whirl, or prance,
If your heart leaps up with gladness, because you consistently get to be the-real-true-blue-you.
It is possible that you are doing what makes your heart and soul brand new,
If Mondays cause you to feel more joyful and smile bigger than every other day of the week,
If Mondays bring more hope and cheer than any other day, and make you want to sail, fly, jump and leap.
If Mondays are the best days, the ones you look forward to with the most gigantically good feelings of all,
It may be that you are living your life as a human being, fulfilling other’s buckets, so tall.
Yes Monday feelings are the top dog meter, to find out if you are living your soul’s heart dream.
The lessons you begged for when you left those cheering angels, who sent you down the heaven stream.
If your Monday feelings are not like this, the good news is, it is never too late.
Run away from the job you are doing now; clear away the slate.
Monday is the most fabulous barometer, loud and true.
You are the only one who knows if you are living life as the real honest you.
Written July 30, 2018
Contest: Mondays Poetry Contest Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Hope is elusive, sometimes sliding by in a river of grass,
faintly smiling, during the daytime.
Bushel baskets of inspiration gathered in minutes, waiting
for a tiny signal you are ready, all you have to do is wink.
Determined dream lighters collect what we need to ignite
the fire of opportunity, and sizzle our imagination as we slumber.
Infusing the exact formula of skills necessary to tantalize
us to take the chance of a lifetime, to write that novel, to
show the masses what we are about when we are ready.
We leap out of bed with eager anticipation in the mornings,
ready for the optimism and wisdom which has inspired us to
do our best today. Not fully understanding why or how, but
positive we can do it now.
The rejuvenation and renewal process which has been working
on our soul-level during the night can be attributed to angels of the highest
order, messengers from God, in case you wondered.
Now get out there and do your best today, amaze yourself, be the
you whom you have always dreamed possible. Today is your day!
He straddles the couch looking out the window
Cosmo knows that green eye varmint is there.
It is a slender silky black cat that comes into
my front yard to hunt birds feeding and bathing
in my bird baths. Bad old puddy cat.
Sassy watches with Cosmo wanting to bark
Suddenly he's there, a long high pitch whiny yelp
emits from Cosmo as he crashes into the window
trying to leap out. Sassy growls and whines with him.
Running to the front door they bark and screech
wanting outside. I begin to turn the door knob
to release the hounds but Cosmo in his eagerness
body slams the door in anticipation of release.
We try again and the door opens and WHAM!
Cosmo hits the metal screen door shaking the glass.
Open the screen door and he leaps upon the screen porches
screen door and lets out a hoot and holler that
deafens anyone within ten feet. Sassy lets out a bark
but Cozzie bites her, only he barks at that cat.
He bolts to the dog yard and leaps upon the wooden fence
shaking the planks like an earthquake.
Out with those long screaming nail scratching yelping
barks, tail wagging while Sassy growls at that cat.
Who calmly sits staring at a bird less yard from all the commotion.
Gently waving her long black tail and slightly turning
her head to give Cosmo those deep green eyes watching
him and Sassy whining and barking, jumping and
snorting. As if she is saying "what can you do behind the fence?"
With all the birds away that black cat stretches and yawns
while slowly softly walking away.
That's a good boy and girl, you frighten that bad old
puddy cat away. I had to reinforce their egos.
Off they go back to the couch, watching and waiting
for that black cat. Green eye varmint.