Long Marm Poems
Long Marm Poems. Below are the most popular long Marm by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Marm poems by poem length and keyword.
page turning suspense filled the vaulted sepulchral air
ushering the veiled spouse to be
while afar off trumpets did blare
(arranged by the well known matchmaker Harriet Kuritsky)
creating the ambience analogous to a renaissance faire
yet contrasted in that this bachelor and other men related to me
segregated with females and males at a set distance away i.e. not physically
near
dictated by mandates of the Hebrew coda stemming from Moses biological tree
which separate quarters ample enough to spare
until the proper toll of the bell would peal accompanied by yippee!
after Rabbi Boyce officiated for Matthew Scott
and Abby Robin, the crowd exalted with cheers
of L’Chiam with chutzpah oompah’s sizzling and hot.
klezmer musicians played schmaltz
which accompanied the hoopla as couples did waltz.
all the while family, friends and relatives blessed the new groom and bride
although highly orthodox, the men removed respective skullcap
more commonly known as the yarmulke some plain others dyed
women and children broke out in traditional dance and song while other did
clap
exemplifying Yahweh to deliver mazal tov and shalom as spiritual guide
to the pronounced husband and wife who pledged their troth in a snap.
toward conclusion of this typical Jewish wedding, a full goblet of kosher red wine
got tossed in the air
this (in conjunction with crush of the emptied wine glass) communicated a sign
and marshaled the crowd to begin a local Jerusalem exodus symbolic and
clear.
as the newlyweds blissfully and radiantly strolled arm in arm
and exited the Synagogue, the euphoric and excited crowd
tossed handfuls of uncle Ben’s unconverted rice grown from a nearby organic
farm
a chauffeur waited to shuttle them to their honeymoon location
passersby waved and bowed e'en thy first grade school marm!
Jimmy Waters was quite a precocious young man
School marm a mentor who understands
Parents who love him to them he is grand
In the inner city not totally safe
School marm a mentor who understands
Jimmy gunned down by those who are mean
In the inner city not totally safe
He goes threw the ghetto to get to her place
Jimmy gunned down by those who are mean
Parents who love him to them he is grand
He goes threw the ghetto to get to her place
Jimmy Waters was quite a precocious young man
(Story loosely interpertative from It's Supernatural about a family who had one son born late
in life and this young man would visit an elderly school teacher eveyday and help her with
things she needed done and she encouraged him to read poetry and fine writers. He was
gunned down one day and he appeared to her one day when she needed someone.)
The witches of Backwater were two sisters who,
Never caused harm or concern.
One lived in the swamp well away from the town,
The other chose wages to earn.
She taught the town's children as local school marm,
Reading and writing and numbers.
Quiet and kind she taught tolerance and patience,
And always to pray before slumber.
The town's people held her in high regard.
But her sister was another matter.
Quiet and strange she lived all alone,
And some thought her mad as a hatter.
The one in the swamp was the eldest of two,
Shunning the town and their ways.
She kept to herself way back in the swamp,
T'was there that she spent her days,
Honing her craft and becoming quite deft,
At discerning herbs, berries and roots,
That she used in lotions and arcane potions,
Steeped in magic straight down to her boots.
The younger sister dabbled too,
Unknown to the people around her.
Keeping it simple she made wicks and tonics,
To ease simple headaches and bothers.
When the town fell ill her cover was blown,
Folks found out the witch was her sister;
For she'd called her in to help cure the fever,
That threatened them all with disaster.
They love us now, the elder witch said,
But wait for some time to pass.
One fine day they'll come for us both,
And for us that day is the last;
So let us be off while we still have the chance.
Lets just take our money and run,
Before their fear of the unknown sets in,
To be sure it's already begun.
So they took their pay and went on their way,
And no one could say when or where.
The two sisters just left and the town was bereft,
Of any who ever would care,
If someone fell ill or contracted a chill,
Or needed a tonic or two;
For the witches were gone and so from now on,
They would just have to make do.
Sittin’ in th’ saddle. Gotta soon skedaddle.
School marm says she’ll tattle. Sheriff wants a battle.
Kissed her on the cheek jes’ to git a li’l peek
at her widow’s peak ‘cause she’s purty an’ petite.
Gotta hankerin’ to git off ol’ Buck and sit
a spell afore I quit and have a chaw to spit.
Cogitatin’ and bidin’ time afore ridin’
down that canyon hidin’ lest I git a chidin’.
Starin’ out blinkin’, doin’ some proper thinkin’
‘bout the stars a twinklin’ and my heavy drinkin’.
My casual, carousin’ rife, hidin’ from the strife
of settlin’ down my life an’ takin’ on a wife.
Soon I’ll fergit the threat, fergit my social debt
I don’t wanna sweat dirt jes’ to pay a moral bet
farmin’ unfertile land, or workin’ for the man.
Druther take a stand and work as lonely cowhand.
Might as well admit it, I’m a social misfit.
Don’t wanna submit it, or give up an’ quit it.
Searchin’ but cain’t seem to find comfort in my mind.
Guess it’s ’bout time I recognize I’m doin’ jes’ fine.
page turning suspense filled the vaulted sepulchral air
ushering the veiled spouse to be
while afar off trumpets did blare
(arranged by the well known matchmaker Harriet Kuritsky)
creating the ambience analogous to a renaissance faire
yet contrasted in that this bachelor and other men related to me
segregated with females and males at a set distance away i.e. not physically
near
dictated by mandates of the Hebrew coda stemming from Moses biological tree
which separate quarters ample enough to spare
until the proper toll of the bell would peal accompanied by yippee!
after Rabbi Boyce officiated for Matthew Scott
and Abby Robin, the crowd exalted with cheers
of L’Chiam with chutzpah oompah’s sizzling and hot.
klezmer musicians played schmaltz
which accompanied the hoopla as couples did waltz.
all the while family, friends and relatives blessed the new groom and bride
although highly orthodox, the men removed respective skullcap
more commonly known as the yarmulke some plain others dyed
women and children broke out in traditional dance and song while other did
clap
exemplifying Yahweh to deliver mazal tov and shalom as spiritual guide
to the pronounced husband and wife who pledged their troth in a snap.
toward conclusion of this typical Jewish wedding, a full goblet of kosher red wine
got tossed in the air
this (in conjunction with crush of the emptied wine glass) communicated a sign
and marshaled the crowd to begin a local Jerusalem exodus symbolic and
clear.
as the newlyweds blissfully and radiantly strolled arm in arm
and exited the Synagogue, the euphoric and excited crowd
tossed handfuls of uncle Ben’s unconverted rice grown from a nearby organic
farm
a chauffeur waited to shuttle them to their honeymoon location
passersby waved and bowed e'en thy first grade school marm!
I’m thrilled to have my students joining me
for milk and cookies on this lovely day.
For fun we will pretend it’s scones and tea.
The maid has left our tray. Without delay
we’ll eat and chat; then for a while we’ll play.
For table manners, each of you has earned
a gold star. You’re so pleasant and polite,
not like my brothers, who have never learned
how to behave at tea time. They’re a sight!
They need to be in charm school day and night.
You’ve come so far. On your first days of class,
you growled and hissed. You were so rough and loud
Now you’re quite cultured. You don’t sulk or sass
when I give you instructions. I am proud
to say I think you’d all impress a crowd!
Urban dictionary: marm. a British word meaning an old school teacher
picture 4
October 31, 2021
Rhyming Me a Poem 2 contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Two dwellings in one single block
(the peasants at the back).
One market garden, orchard, flock:
No asphalt road. Just track.
The men were in the bottom field
to get the barley in.
“It’s looking like a bumper yield:
don’t lose it. That’s a sin.”
The Master’s doing ‘market day’ –
four bottles. Pinot noir.
The peasants joke: “He’s making hay!
He’ll wreck another car!”
Maria looked up from her paste –
that pasta needs a tweak –
it’s never good, if done in haste –
no meat or fish this week.
She felt the window drawing her:
Where’s Salva? On the grass?
The Lady, in her Sunday fur!
Tomorrow’s Martinmas!
This was the day, with harvest picked,
when bosses, ‘cleaning house’,
by ancient custom could evict,
could tell their staff, “Heraus!”
But Salva wasn’t in the sand,
or playing near the cellar:
the Lady, clutching by the hand
her daughter, Arabella,
called out “Maria! Come to me!
And don’t you dare refuse!
This yard is filthy. Can’t you see
what’s happened to my shoes?
Your boy was playing ‘gallows bird’
with Bella, in this mess!
And what if something had occurred
to Bella’s yellow dress?
The first thought in Maria’s head
was, “So – we’re not evicted!”
The second, “That girl’s overfed –
her midriff is constricted.”
Signora, with her other arm,
held Salva by the scruff.
“You peasants,” sneered the farmyard marm,
“are naturally rough.”
“They’re getting to a certain age,
and well, I mean to say …”
Maria swallowed down her rage.
“Fine. Far apart they’ll stay.”
He came into my room carrying a gentle shade of light upon his face
and as I grew accustomed to his presence, I felt his spirit free
Its as if the angels carved him out of alabaster bone and marm
with and anciency and rapture made of silver thread and gold
Spellbound by his magic, I inhaled his presence dear,
then watched my heart begin to beat for him and him alone
He was the scent of orchid in a mingled denim shirt
and as he blew me kisses, I hitched a breath so rare
between his arms, beneath his skin, inside his heart
I was here, there, everywhere,
and as he roomed me with his auric fire
I heard the beckon of my soul,
" Go ahead release your heart, he's yours"
January 14, 2020
The words I chose is Aura
The stagecoach is loaded and the driver is rarin' to go,
To start that long, rugged trek to the town of San Francisco!
People are crammed inside and half a dozen on the roof.
The horses are snortin' and stompin' eager to take to hoof!
The driver cracks his whip and they're off in a neck-snappin' lurch,
Those hapless souls on top holdin' tight to their precarious perch!
The driver urges the team on with raucous and colorful swearin'!
A mother covers the tender ears of her tot to stifle its hearin'!
Sittin' and jostlin' knee-to-knee are characters of every variety.
Some with high-toned mores, others livin' on the edge of society!
There's a preacher clutchin' his Bible, so eager to pontificate,
Elbow-to-elbow with a gambler waitin' for a sucker to bait!
Sittin' prim and proper is a newly-minted school marm.
Next to her a soiled dove seekin' new territory to charm!
Lollin' on her shoulder is a drunk, passed out, white as a ghost!
A lonely soldier stares at the bleak landscape, goin' to his new post.
There's a dreamy-eyed young miner certain he'll strike a rich vein,
A steely-eyed outlaw eyes those 'round him with alert disdain!
A doctor with elixirs and nostrums packed in his medicine chest;
Each a pioneer seeking new horizons in the great untamed west!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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