Long Manoeuvres Poems

Long Manoeuvres Poems. Below are the most popular long Manoeuvres by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Manoeuvres poems by poem length and keyword.


A Celebration of Memories

Your memories, a perpetual stream of visitors. 
Memories bursting with daring adventures.
Conquering the Kilimanjaro with an intimate artistic alliance.
Madness in the sky, a utter nutty experience of you flying a plane over the shore of Indian ocean, 
extreme manoeuvres, you called it 'Top Gun Style'
with that, I said “shoot me down, I'm already dead”.
Traversing across a deserted island, detached from the world. 

Stranded in the vast plains of Serengeti with a broken car and the unseen wild animals.
A taste of mystical wilderness of Africa, an insight to fragile life in a dangerous zone. 
You drinking my share of Masai's ritual cattle  blood drink,
vegetarianism was my lame excuse,
but you remained unconvinced
Exploring a volcanic mountain, never again toxic fumes fill my lungs.

Creation of life through our spiritual consortium,
where two lives emerged from me, carrying parts of you.

Climbing mountains with our offsprings with all the craziness of crying and yelling.
These eternal moments, I re-live on a quotidian in the sweet realm of my memories.

My soul honours our timeless connection, yet a temporary union of our presence.

Today in my heart, I carry your bestowed legacy of thrill seeking, adventurous, exciting, epic 'live in the moment.
© Bee Cee  Create an image from this poem.
Form:


THE WARRIOR

I was born into a war 
I was born into a war 
I Was born into this war 
And I couldn’t even talk 
I didn’t know how to walk
I hit the ground surviving 
Heavy fire, Heavy losses 
Broken will broken compass
On death ground 
Death behind me 
Death ahead of me 
Surrounded  No space to retreat 
No way home 
This is no way to live 
Its no way to go
The enemy was  within 
No secrets no strategy 
No manoeuvres No being clever 
This is not go This is not chess 
I am no Hannibal I am no Scipio 
I am no Ceaser I no Napoleon
I am no general I am no emperor
I am no conqueror
I don’t make the decisions 
Just obedience to violence
Mano a mano 
Running low on ammo
Not a moment to breathe 
Blood all over the camo
Screams and limbs flying
Bodies piling, blood is flowing
The flies are multiplying 
The maggots are feasting 
And its only just starting 
what is certain 
I will die here 
I will die at the end
I don’t get to make it out ahead
I will be dead
I have not given up but I know the reaper
He’s a friend
I have seen him hugging my brothers
I have seen him show spite 
I have seen him show mercy 
 he is the angel of destiny
Ordaining us to be saints
Or giving swords to be martyr’s
The pain is mounting 
And I am out of cocaine 
The medics are out of morphine
And its already too late for  me 
I am bleeding , badly wounded  
Intestines are hanging 
One arm is missing 
I am being brave 
But heart can only take me so far 
Fighting to the end  feeling woozy
I can’t hear a thing I think I am dying 
I can’t just lay down and die 
I can’t just lay down  to die 
I-can’t let them just win
I can’t just stop.

Premium Member Fragments

FRAGMENTS
preserve
  the moment
of
jagged
shadows
  revealing
signature

conceive
the memory
of
the esoteric
exercised
 existence
involving
 chance
pleasing
&
resonant
melting down

explicit
imaginative
  manoeuvres
transform
the moment

arbitary
random
encaustic
  microisms
complicate
the
presence
&
emotionally

NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Form: Other

A Folktale

A folktale
There is a small country sharing part of its border
to a giant country, both have been friends for
over 300 years during world war two they came
helped the small country to get rid of the enemy.
Then propaganda articles appeared in many papers
how bad the government in the big country was,
(Let us make it easy the small country we can call
Norway and big the country Russia) the Norwegian 
took no notice, they visited Russia often to buy
vodka, cigarettes and other items that are expensive
in their little country; and some travelled to Moskva
 which has a rich cultural heritage.
Then the Americans/NATO held a proxy war and
the American soldiers and tanks got in the way
of tour buses, needless to say, the soldiers were
confused that the people from the tiny country
we’re not afraid of the big bear this because of the
US combatants were victims of lying propaganda.
Well, the military nonsense ended their proxy war
the Norwegian continued to travel to Russia to do
their shopping and as always they were welcomed
and no one mentioned the silly manoeuvres by
the misguided military personnel were playing in the snow.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Way of the Rat

Like sunshine on a cold Spring morning
deceiving our judgment and senses,
the rat manoeuvres through honest lives,
a Machiavellian villain before our eyes.

Sharp pain in our back can not be felt,
slowly we bleed unknowingly from
malicious acts assumed as mistakes 
and poisonous words on metaphorical plates.

The gullible gobbling every last morsel 
coaxed by the rodent kings charm,
others now treat us with utter contempt.
Realisation dawns slowly, this was all meant.

A great planner and chess game player 
- a master manipulator,
this rat's moves to the winning check mate
eminate from the deepest bowels of dark hate.

Rubbishing others to his own gain,
convincing the blind he is the best,
while deadly charisma gnaws his path,
My fellow man I plead,  watch out for this rats wrath.
© Rob Carter  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member If I Was President of America

Awakening the country from stupor, 
we stop all military manoeuvres,
erasing racial hatred from our home,
that all human beings, fearlessly roam,
greening the earth, leading by example,
love of humanity, be our mantle,
focus on education and healthcare,
home for each soul, free from poverty snare,
whilst encouraging entrepreneurship,
finer soul uplifting arts, our flagship,
space and solar energy, our focus,
love our religion, along Gods locus
judicial reforms for trials made speedy,
food for the needy, jail for the greedy,
guns, drugs and prostitution all must go,
with our ethics built on love throb mellow,
mooting single world governance in peace, 
weaponised such, that no foe we appease,
disaster management a focus zone
friendly with neighbours, faults quick to atone,
thus an iron fist in a velvet glove,
strong as lion, yet gentle like a dove.

09-February-2021

Written for ‘If I was president’ poetry contest
Sponsor: Matt Caliri

(22 lines, Syllabic rhyme)
Form: Rhyme

grass still growing in thunder

salt drops upon green ashes when we lullaby for lives of grandma’s, mothers
grass still growing in thunder
where bending we plant some mint
breaking free from cage of conditioning 
a sea of blue grass appears

verses, emotions, lamentations, directions  
buildings in flames, people are marching 
the ALL arching — unwinding 
blue-green grass grows, waving 
fevers of life washing away

hopes fly in spaces, meaning unknown 
manœuvres, thanksgiving, we observe
create, leap as sun appears smiling 
we unfill ourselves, unfill ourselves
grass still growing in thunder, waving
I sit in a mist 
 
how is this to be, chlorophyll filling lungs ?
news tramping a quiet garden
pause, unfill, catch a chirp
grass just grows, waving ~ 
breaking free from cage of conditioning
unwinding ______


________________________

Honorable Winner : Allpoetry: Rapid-Fire Free Verse : Theme ‘Grass’
April ‘26

[ Poet’s Note : Rapid-Fire Verse is a verse written on a particular theme, without left brain intervention, as much as possible. It is written within a few minutes, as right brain & nervous system interprets theme. This type of automatic writing allows a Poet to see how effectively the right brain has absorbed poetic technique. It moves one into whole brain functioning which is how the Ecstatics like Rumi & Kabir wrote. In my view, Rapid Verse is different to channelling, as it comes from inner direct experience, whereas channelling a poem often comes from another energy in another dimension. ]
Form: Other

Premium Member Extraordinary

(Dedication: For my darling Ann)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Plain looks simple
Subtle feels nice;
Ecstasy knows

~~~~~~~~~


Touch of wonder
Curiosity sums;
Beauty illuminates

~~~~~~~~~


Day unfurls
Simple grandeur;
Familiar feel

~~~~~~~~~


Eyes dazzle
Kindness floods;
All is well

~~~~~~~~~


Travels greet
Here at home;
Thousand journeys

~~~~~~~~~


In haste and heat
Haze or clear skies;
Joy knows wonder

~~~~~~~~~


Day zooms into night
Plumeria evenings;
Colourful hues delight

~~~~~~~~~


After dinner September:
Just for two --
Duku fruit party

~~~~~~~~~


Silver hairlines
Golden moments;
Picture portrait

~~~~~~~~~


Here we sit
Side by side;
Joy enlightens

~~~~~~~~~


Bedside chit-chat
Sleepy eyes sink;
Sweet dreams manoeuvres

~~~~~~~~~


Eye to eye
Cheek to cheek;
Splendour sums

~~~~~~~~~


How the years
Have brought us here;
Simply subtle

~~~~~~~~~


Joy streams
Fullness of love;
Peace simmers well

~~~~~~~~~


Ups and downs and ups
Cache of sweet dreams;
Prompting finesse

~~~~~~~~~


Mystic magic
Mindful moments;
Merry moods

~~~~~~~~~


Who knows heaven
In earthly form?
Hearts sculpts joy

~~~~~~~~~




Leon Enriquez
17 September 2015
Singapore

Premium Member Incentives

Newly cut grass
Fresh fragrance;
A scented dawn

~~~~~~~~~


Plumeria sunrise
Yellow and red;
Abundance flowers

~~~~~~~~~


Daylight springs
Sharp streams blazing;
No more darkness

~~~~~~~~~


Strange winding path
Etchings of patient feet;
Lost round the bend

~~~~~~~~~


Daybreak
Blurry eyes dart;
Suddenly aware

~~~~~~~~~


Time and space greet
The morning sunrise;
Promising agenda

~~~~~~~~~


Joy calls my name
In birdsong whispers;
A smile glides

~~~~~~~~~


Coffee brew signals
Day time manoeuvres;
Awareness ingests

~~~~~~~~~


Talk of weather
Dark clouds hover;
Umbrella panorama

~~~~~~~~~


Morning deluge
Work day commotions;
Another day screams

~~~~~~~~~


Zen garden stroll
Anchor mindful feelings;
Icy air draught

~~~~~~~~~


Frangipani tree
Old and autumnal;
Mellow motions

~~~~~~~~~


Traffic congestion
City bound people;
Precise distractions

~~~~~~~~~


Somnolence lingers
Awareness seeps slowly;
Awakening blots

~~~~~~~~~




Leon Enriquez
09 May 2015
Singapore
Form: Haiku

After All Life Is But a Twisted Tale

After all, life is but a twisted tale,
Of trying blue; to weigh us, if model.
To find happy rest in all we travail...

Winnings, everyone continually tail,
Unleash cheats and deceits of sh*ts coddle...
After all, life is but a twisted tale!

Satisfaction has stolen away scale,
That manoeuvres peace at achievement's jail,
To find happy rest in all we travail.

Then the world becomes completely new ale,
That subjects sloshed sanity to waddle...
After all, life is but a twisted tale!

Time moves fast unlike dream's series avail,
Its fulfilling bail to rescue Abel.
After all, life is but a twisted tale!

How dire Cain reckons not blood, but impale
His brother; blackmail his death, wroth unveil.
After all, life is but a twisted tale,
To find happy rest in all we travail.

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