Long Measure out Poems
Long Measure out Poems. Below are the most popular long Measure out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Measure out poems by poem length and keyword.
I don’t need to reach the age
When I must use a walker.
That would be hard, anyway,
Since I am a New Yorker.
Ninety candles on my cake
I never planned to see;
And neither did I think there’d be
An eighty year old me.
My parents both died rather young;
I thought I’d follow suit.
Genetics may not matter, though;
The verdict still is moot.
But I would like a bit more time
To see my grandson grow.
I’m sure most people feel the same
When they’ve been called to go.
We can’t control our date of death
Or measure out our years;
And as we age, we find ourselves
Succumbing to our fears.
Though what I’m feeling strongly
May be looked upon as greed,
A bit more time upon this earth
Is what I want and need.
Time froze solid over crystal ledges
Not withstanding planetary degrees of cold
Eroded ages in deep space remain
Below zero beyond the inner planets
A pure white landscape far away
Fixed in the void a world displaced
Through no fault of its own
Ice geysers spew forth from tectonic force
Debris escapes through thin atmospheres embrace
As the rings of Saturn part
No gravity to hold it back from endless dark
Sacred worlds, engineered by natures magic
Reminded of Earth's past without the people
Religion, caskets, cold graves and catacombs
Back on the home planet are gone or frozen
It seems so long ago
Brought in from the cold on dim candles glow
Before the age of matches lit the way
In the age of Renaissance, intelligence grew
With colorful flowers, warm hues and daring fragrances
Lifted enlightenment to bloom
Soon there would be rockets in the future
History holds nothing back not even floods
Love of exploration and science are not taboo
To build a future
Divine intervention fits in small crevasses
In hour glasses devoid of population
Sand can not keep up with time
Plenty of ice though fills in unknown zones
So many barren worlds stand out there alone
Planets move fast, stretch on vast distances
Far from the sun
Measure out frost in the cosmos cold and long
Engineering inventions will do
The way, the truth, the light
Replacing catacombs and candles
Hope springs eternal in the depth of space
Where lights flicker, ashamed to go out of place
Cosmic storms rain on with asteroids
Manufactured in the void
Where it is always cold
Ice Planet roams alone
Awaiting an encounter
Hidden in the rain drops coming down
Galaxies hide between each one unseen
Wandering particles, giants meandering
Caught in humidity thick amid the wet
Heat waves measure out ripples
No matter how hot and heavy it gets
Vastness is left to the cosmos alone
Naked above the landscape
Green with envy nature makes no mistake
Begins by pouring out its heart
Showers are shrouded in storm warnings
Concrete weight takes the measure of rain
In streams of definition to the surface reservoirs
Fog rolls with the eyes misunderstanding
Stars stand out to fool the wanderer
Each one dots the sky
Cross boundaries of perception to be detected
Find resurrection in the storm
It is more than we can fathom in a tear
Mist worries us but that is not the same
Far and wide amid each system
Something undetected passes by
What about rain drops glistening
They capture our imagination
We miss what is going on between them
It is all about perception flanked by drops
Knowing not to sit about simply watching
Waiting for them to fall in cold succession
Vision can not pierce through solid clouds
Trust the blanket of the rain
To cover the cosmic wonders out of sight
Showers know what to do from their point of view
From their perspective
Which is good to the last drop coming down
I perk my Joe old-fashioned style
In a pot atop the stove,
My percolator ancient,
Like a pirate’s treasure trove.
I measure out the coffee
And a timer lets me know
When 8 minutes have elapsed and then
My brew’s all set to go.
It’s French roast, strong and most important,
It is really hot,
The only way that it should be
So it will hit the spot.
I toyed with going modern –
The Nespresso had appeal,
But to change what’s tried and true seemed
Like too much of a big deal.
So I’ll stick with perking coffee
Like the dinosaur I am
For each morning sip allows me
To be happy as a clam.
With age my spirit’s settled down and takes things in it’s stride,
That’s not to say it doesn’t soar, and treasure every ride.
It’s just more careful flying kites when there’s no wind about,
For time has taught it better ways and not to scream and shout.
For years I chased my every dream, though most of them came true
There’s still a lot I’ve got to learn and more I want to do.
But now I look with different eyes at everything in sight,
There’s things that any way I try, I never could get right.
To look at what’s achievable, then do a little more,
Is better far than climbing high, to fall back on the floor.
I set my sights on things I feel I just ‘may not’ achieve,
And find I often manage these, then new tasks I’ll conceive.
My spirit’s settled down with age, but hasn’t gone to sleep,
It’s learned that gentle stretching is a better way to reap
The things I’ve always wanted and the goals for which I’ve aimed,
Than reaching out to catch the moon to find I’ve nothing gained.
So just because I now stretch out for things far nearer earth,
It doesn’t mean that new ideas will never see their birth.
I’ve climbed my highest mountains and I’ve swam in stormy seas,
But now I’ve found a better way to give me all I please.
I measure out the distance, then just add a little more,
It’s all the ‘little’ things we gain make life worth living for.
And when you are successful, then I think that you’ll agree,
You do not need to rule the world to keep your spirit free.
Ivor G Davies
See these tiny things
Filled with thought profound;
Cute miniatures spring
From creative grounds.
In a format small,
Craft miniature books;
Haiku moments call:
Browse and take a look.
One and a half inch,
The book height is short;
Words squeezed just to lynch
Warm poetry is wrought.
A sure design feeds
Steady hand-skill mints;
This collage craft seeds
Finesse that now tints.
A paper stock craft
Comes forth from ideas;
Design a rough draft,
Mental image steers.
Visuals now take shape,
With thought focus here;
Measure out or drape
What impulse sparks clear.
A tiny book page
Via plain prototype;
Step by step each stage
Styles wonder not hype.
Imagine the route
From a plain blank sheet:
Until success shouts
With product you meet.
This crafty craft fits
The collage art flow;
Poise flavours sure wit
To let tact now show.
Print the outline page,
Trim, cut and align;
Patience works each stage,
Keep eyes on design.
Arrange each page right,
Guide the lines of fold;
Set rule to guide sight,
Keep pulp sculpture bold.
Fold each page well,
Now back-to-back;
Frame by frame tells,
Allow some slack.
Press the stack stage,
Glide steel rule straight;
Sharp blade trims edge,
Both sides look great.
Fit hard cover,
Like a sandwich;
Forge maneuvers,
Paste each to each.
Surely and truly,
The book sculpture grows;
Practice works surely
When rough edges show.
And then, finally:
A tiny book sums
The effort nicely
With a fine outcome.
Mini book that forms
A miniature whole;
A focus sets norm
In dealing with soul.
So crafty craft shows
In body mass cute;
Feel a certain glow
In silence that mutes.
Little treasures here
In miniature books;
To spread ease and cheer
In satisfied looks.
Start again now
To make one more;
Watch skills endow
A fine rapport.
Leon Enriquez
12 December 2014
Singapore
Into the lane
come wind, impetuous rain.
Trees are now a threat,
gesturing wildly, angry,
promising to snap,
eager to pounce,
to crush in an embrace
of leaf and crusty bark.
The village fête, though,
is like the show:
it must go on,
it must go on.
It’s fixed in time,
it’s preordained.
Brave souls
staff the stalls and serve,
to raise the funds
to fix the roof.
Spattered souls – pulling
their cardigans closed, tugging
their knitted hats further down their heads –
bravely measure out the day
in collected coinage
dropped into biscuit tins:
the target must be reached.
Cricket’s off – rain stopped play;
back to the crease another day.
But the ladies of the Guild
fête the thinning punters
with bric-a-brac and homemades,
with orange juice and lemonade.
It’s a parallel world –
the other one’s not here today.
This is all there is.
For this day only,
this is our fête.
Microwave a mug of water with
A bag of Orange Spice herb tea ...
Long enough to make it hot,
But not burn your tongue – about 85 seconds.
Toss the tea bag and stir in two packets of Stevia, then
Choose today’s cocoa and measure out two rounded teaspoons.
Will it be Hershey’s,
Hershey’s Special Dark,
Trader Joe’s,
Or something more exotic?
Live a little – make a hybrid.
Stir and sip.
Don’t forget to wipe off the mustache.
Dunk in some Biscotti, or if you can afford it, Belgian Speculoos.
When thoughts that are pure take freedoms flight
having fled the darkness unto the Light
nothing that defiles to be allowed within
corporeal pursuits or the man of sin
Father we have looked upon the heart of your Son
all the things we lack were spoken by his tongue
freedom and injustice instructed by his lips
all of our darkness has his Light eclipsed
Freedom from the World all that it pursues
is overshadowed the knowledge of good news
we have fled the system shed all it's views
followed your spirit listened to his Truths
To the Jews a stumblingblock to the nations foolishness
for preaching the Love of Christ does shed blessedness
and measure out he does to each one his gifts
thoughts of heart on the threshing floor his insight sifts
Every little particle in your universe
has suffered the affliction of a human curse
We have sent the gravity of things out of line
beauty and perfection are no longer well defined
We drink in your instruction like wine in our glass
we fear to look upon them it's clarity is vast
how can something so small absorb your majesty
to look upon your Son know Loves Divinity
Those who love the Truth of God won't be standing still
to dispense his Word is the hearing of his will
come out from among them to his rulership be true
to receive his favor must not do as nations do
To those who would receive him Jesus has made the call
to make you clean and purify and give to you his all
assure your hearts before him walk the path divine
you must submit your everything for the knowing of his mind
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
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Strange Unicorn of the Sea,
we solved your mystery.
Of Arctic Ocean fame
you are Narwhal
as named.
Unicorn
of Sea,
our fascination
crept for secrets
you had kept about
tusk's outside nerves;
what uses do they serve?
{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{
Allows you to communicate.
A great aid to seek a mate.
The perfect sword to joust;
the feared enemies to oust.
Safest water space ensures
by measuring temperatures
and the water pressure too,
gauges spaces to get thru.
Long pick to break the ice;
an excellent, sharp device.
Pinpoint your hidden prey-
use a sensory-based way.
You measure out at sea;
saline levels guarantee.
Survival tools evolved,
so the puzzle's solved.
}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
Deep ocean mystery
our Unicorn of Sea,
you are Narwhal
by name with
firm Arctic
Ocean
fame.
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