Long Limbs Poems
Long Limbs Poems. Below are the most popular long Limbs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Limbs poems by poem length and keyword.
Sitting by the side of the waterfall,
I have tried to reach the sky,
The air may be thin, the trek may be hard,
But to touch the waterfall so close,
Was the dream of my life.
The splash of water on my face,
wakes my senses tired and asleep,
The water gushes past huge boulders,
making the best music I have heard in my life.
Try to peek under the sheet of water falling off the cliff,
The life time of memories will seem to be wrapped inside the mist,
Once I would lead my children along the trail,
Now I am watched by them if I could make the trail.
The water streams past logs, limbs, trees and stones,
Making its way through rough terrains,
Persistence in endeavors always attains the goal,
The eternal waterfall gives me the subtle message all along.
He was born in the bathroom
One tiny white ball of cotton
Baby breath like a perfume
Little black nose like a button
Swiftly, he was a growing puppy
Blundering limbs making haste
Almost the way of a young yuppie
Leaving his siblings during the chase
As he grew, my love for him flourished
I discovered that I loved him more
As his sustenance fulfilled and nourished
Helping him to develop into the one I adore
Soon, his siblings were gone to new homes
It was just him and me, two hearts, one love
Together we walked and he loved the roams
What we shared was heavenly, from above
Everyday he’d wait for me to come back
From my day spent working or doing errands
I would typically bring him some snack
That he would thank me for with his presence
He lived with me for thirteen years
Taking walks and sharing our life of hope
Always his love that was so very sincere
Forever helping me to find ways to cope
It was the hardest day of my life that year
When I waited as he moved on to heaven
Although he didn’t seem to show any fear
I felt as if my heart wasn’t about to leaven
Grace got me through my loss of his ardor
But I will always remember his friendship
When I think of going home it’s not harder
Being reunited with my dog will be splendid
September 11, 2019
MY HEART IS FULL Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Cindi Rockwell
In the blue sky, loving blue birds hover close by,
Ducks swim gracefully on the shining lake nearby,
Nature's beauty enchants, as we stroll hand in hand,
On life's path, together, united, we stand.
Willow tree limbs awaken from the wintry cold,
Love blooms like spring fever, a tale yet untold,
Destination unknown, we fearlessly roam,
Arm in arm, my dear, we're building our home.
Pink cherry blossoms, with black marks they bear,
Yet their beauty and grace, my heart can't help but stare,
Emotional highs and lows, our interactions may see,
But your affectionate love, forever cherished it'll be.
Roses smile in the beautiful spring morn,
Dewdrops on stems, emotions they adorn,
Though hurdles may come, our journey won't stall,
Arm in arm, my dear, together we'll conquer all.
(written, not from experience – but from hearing the screams of the voiceless)
a letter from home, the womb where I grow…
2 Corinthians 12:9 “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
Torn from the sanctuary, without one breath
my story begins… will she regret?
My limbs are all growing,
the silence in here, calm and serene
like a song – her melody, gentle heartbeat
growing, each cell a mystery…
oh, I can’t wait to see her, this woman,
expecting someone – perfect,
a flawless poem written by her hope,
a seamless beauty unspoiled by the past,
this is my beginning and my soul cries out
for the wonder of her touch,
the kiss of her lips on my brow,
this blessing of a mother’s love –
oh, how she will smile when I arrive.
But, wait…
Torn from the sanctuary – my story is so brief
I feel the darkness settling in – oh, this grief?!!!
Torn from the sanctuary – pulled from the dream
of a love that will never be
a love that still believes –
she was meant for me.
Torn from the sanctuary, where there were no tears
I feel my soul is crying without end to the miseries…
Then I see Him – the One who created me
the first grace that pours over my spirit
the beautiful that isn’t wind or sea
the wonder that reaches into my grief
stills the darkness and whispers light to me
Finally, I can see…
even without the mother
who I still love so deeply
I have a hope that will complete me
hope of a love that is beyond explanation
love this alive survives every frustration
love who’ll survive whatever may come
as I struggle to remember…
she wasn’t the only one
who loved me…
His grace is sufficient for the least of us…
for the voiceless, for those who weep
because there is sorrow, so much grief
and abortion? – it claims the weak
the tiny form of one who seeks
unconditional love, love that sees
it is this love that should bring sweetest dreams.
This is a poem about Poverty
Burns like a dragon with multiple Limbs
consumes like a voracious vampire
which is dangerous even at sunlight.
This is a familiar Beast well known.
It functions from the inside to the outside
manifests with a paralytic effect
and kills like the venom of the Black mamba
It's hooks spare not the captured
not even those who seem redeemed.
It alters its victim's representation
like a new book turn old and dusty
and turns a bright head to a Crook.
This Demon prospers in its prey's lack,
a bad Master which enslaves with gross limitations
front and back.
Acting like a dark force
as it dominates and reign supreme
makes the situation so wack.
It lines the predicaments of the suppressed
in a rack,
as the monster destroys with each evil smack
rendering their remains, unworthy of a pack
and totally condemning their lives to the sack.
Becoming free!
Is not too far from the right track,
just consider a role model in Mark
and finally the nightmare will let go
when the mind is put to a self-hack.
At night, the clock sends out the remaining minutes, and the illusion of youth brings them back during the day.
Melted clock hands and numbers burn my palms and, through them, a view of you while you play.
In a thin dress, you pull your fingers out of invariant subspaces, and you look at me without blinking with bright eyes.
The whirlwind of music from the podium lifts us up
and throws us naked on your threshold with woven limbs.
A dance of confused touches and lost years
on a yellowed piece of paper.
*
In the loneliness kitchen, kisses and hands on the body,
your sigh on my face
while the fingers are in the honey box.
In the corridors of the mathematics of proof
destructive sub-personalities
they distract us from the truth.
*
Blue pool water and grass
full of flowers and pollen-intoxicated bees.
Swimming makes you smile,
while the sting creates a spasm on the face
and throws a bowl full of cherries into the water.
Fear of dragon bites,
he took the white knees far away;
to wait for a long-distance call on the payphone.
*
Meeting on the street and smiling,
the awakening of an old desire that has been simmering.
You are the queen of swords;
with a look into the distance,
we are there behind the distant hills.
Waiting for dawn on the sand dune,
hugged and wrapped in a white cloth.
We spend our days walking on the sands of Morocco
nights of passion and tenderness
are on the stone roofs of houses that look like beehives,
while the fresh night breeze blows from the desert.
--------
Northern vagabond winter is coming to peck you apart
It has a black, icy heart
as it kisses your blue lips
the blood will leave the limbs
to protect the soul of the heart.
but city people won't bring you in.
They've just clawed from under- a summer of blood
they're conditioned not to trust your skin color.
Country folk are no better, though
they stoke the hearth
the dirty nails of Jesus- crack the yellow blinds
no food nor compassion is birthed from these hollow times.
Head south, vagabond,
follow the heartbeat of the sun.
At least you can dream in conch and tangerine...
The people won't lend a hand here either.
But you'll have the soothing of salty air, a pillow of warm sand.
The ocean breeze will play alto sax
a choir of gulls will tell you about God...
For half a French fry.
Oh weak and painful feelings,
My torn and useless shell.
My barrier, my prison,
Has left me by myself.
I’m in need of someone stronger,
A being full of goals.
Come and be my leader,
It’s an easy vacant role.
All you see before you,
All I have to give.
Is a spacious empty vessel,
You alone can fill.
Come and overwhelm me,
Allow me but to feel.
Allow me just a taster,
And you’ve got yourself a deal.
Take charge of all my choices,
Command my limbs to move.
I will do your bidding,
You have nothing left to prove.
Let me be your miracle,
You’ve got a second chance.
I’ll answer all your questions,
If you take me as I am.
All I want is freedom,
From a life that’s full of dread.
I was never meant to be here,
You take my place instead.
Don’t let me live in hunger,
My forbidden fruit untouched.
The snake in me is rearing,
It’s longing is too much…
I no longer wish to stay here,
I feel I’ve lost my mind.
Please be my replacement,
And leave me to my kind.
My kind is in the heavens,
Somewhere deep in space.
I know I’ll find my purpose,
I know I’ll find my place.
Form:
* *
* * * *
* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *
* * * *
* *
Gently, they swirled about in Winter's frigid wind
No two were identical, none were ever twinned
Each ice crystal, a pristine beauty transcending
Tumbling from clouded gray skies, softly descending
* * *
* * *
I frolicked among them, as amused as a child
Infused with wonderment and totally beguiled
Tree limbs brocaded, deeply embellished with snow
So beautifully they glistened with lucent glow
* * *
* *
How quickly it gathered on rooftops and hedges
Wafting, free-spirited, collecting on ledges
Down, they continued twirling in a tranquil scene
Etched in memory as idyllic and serene
* * *
*
I was enamored and enthralled as it drifted
Toward heaven, my eyes were gratefully lifted
As each flake so elegantly fell to the ground
Creating a dreamscape without making a sound
* *
*
Like dainty birds, they fluttered in such a hurry
a flock of crystal snowflakes, in Winter's flurry
My world was blanketed by a quilt of pure white
Tonight it would sparkle brilliantly in starlight!
* *
*
December 10, 2020
Winter Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
8/29/16
Swim
And live
Don't Give
In
Light or dim
Above and below the rim
Work hard and take care off your kin
Especially when times are grim
The same goes for her and him
We can't always win
As this planet continues to spin
Things blow away in the wind
The hedges got a trim
And the cuttings were put in a bin
Not a fan of hymns
Or any kind of gin
The silver lining was thin
But so much good it did
Went off a whim
And used my all even if i hurt some limbs
At times I have sinned
Washed the dirt off my skin
And spent time outside doing things that were like being at a gym
By: Dalton Ogletree