Long Moor Poems
Long Moor Poems. Below are the most popular long Moor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moor poems by poem length and keyword.
Man-Del-Ahhh!! By skitzo
Man
Del
Ahhh
Is, was the
Majesty of Peace
From south Af-ri-ca x2
Nelson Mandela, embodied forgiveness, which is to
Humble ones spirit
And let go of past aggressions committed upon you
Gracefully seeking mutual peace which is sought by equal
Justice
For the masses not for the few
Man
Del
Ahhhh
Is, was, the
Majesty of Peace
From south af-ri-ca
Worldwide black people, and even dark skinned people
Who don’t consider themselves black
Still catch flack
And even with genetic proof we really are all black, from afro DNA
At least genetically my brother Cain still be
Out to downtrodden me Ma-aannnn-Del A
My brother, look fella, blessed and cursed like the Moor
In the story of Othella, I mean OTHELLO
You know, hating on anther cause God’s creations are so
Like black Rob coined, “WHOA!”
Varied, and beautiful like everything, every where
On this planet, and in the solar system of our sun
Man
Del
Ahhhh
Is, was, the
E. Pluribus Unium, Majesty of Peace
From South Af-ri-ca, Unlike Any other ONE
Man I tell ya, I thank the creator of all the Universe
That dude
Man
Del
Ahhh
Is, was, the
Majesty of Peace from
South Af-ri-ca
Old facade
Museum facelift;
Joy sparkles
~~~~~~~~~
Uneasy buzz
Empty talk ooze;
Juicy bits
~~~~~~~~~
Pokemon fling
Sure strokes sling;
Crazy madness
~~~~~~~~~
Newspaper headlines
Too much noise;
Trade deficit
~~~~~~~~~
Violent protests
Crowds angry now;
Defiance congregates
~~~~~~~~~
Bad news sells
Print run profit;
Violence breeds rape
~~~~~~~~~
White wake
Gloomy death black;
Grief suffocates
~~~~~~~~~
Single rose stalk
Sad parting gift;
Funeral pyre
~~~~~~~~~
End of life
Mortal remains on fire;
Tears for fears
~~~~~~~~~
Sad story slays
Vivid hurts ply;
Cold death curtains
~~~~~~~~~
Flat battery
Car-pool forlorn;
No redemption
~~~~~~~~~
Evening dark
Haphazard debris;
Dreary rain
~~~~~~~~~
Death steals
Seizes soul stuff;
Corpse frozen cold
~~~~~~~~~
Breezy wind
Wet promises;
Crashing madness
~~~~~~~~~
Harbour view
Distant ships moor;
Tentative horizon
~~~~~~~~~
Burning joss sticks
Smoke signals feisty;
Ancestral shrine
~~~~~~~~~
Prayers ascending
Smoky fumes swirl;
Heavenly kinship
~~~~~~~~~
Stormy evening
Wet earth moans;
Monsoon redecorates
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
26 November 2016
Singapore
While on a tour across the moor of the Scottish highland,
one summer noon I stopped by a grand Victorian house.
Curious, I entered silently through the half-closed door,
in the half-dark room a pile of antiques I could see .
In the eerie stillness before I could call out, “anybody in”,
the creaking wooden door closed sharply behind me.
In the alarmed mind I pressed the panic button within,
for with all the doors closed the way out I couldn’t find.
As I shivered with the creepy feeling of being trapped,
saw a faint figure approach through the misty hallway,
as if floating on thin air he came into the sinister room,
I saw his scalded deformed face before he turned it away.
As he came near I wailed scared, “please open the door”,
Icy eyes looked at me, but a single word he didn’t utter.
How he opened so softly the heavy door I didn’t know,
I rushed out in a breath outside in the flood of sunlight.
In nearby village I queried about the man living in that house,
nobody saw any hint of life coming from the house of the dead,
for in the outhouse fire that took a very long time to dowse,
the lone caretaker was burnt to death some two years ago.
February 13, 2021
Contest : Ghost
Sponsor : Julia Ward
So i had this dream,
I think it was a dream:
My lonely sole treading
the path of the air,
Through the rolling container.
My feet measuring the path
Of Washington,
dazed by her beauty,startled
by her regalia.
My eyes seduced by the
Beauty of her physiognomy.
The tiled road tensed with glory-
Even with her sister-Michigan.
My heart was elated like
an electrocuted toy who
hopped for joy while betrothed
to the striving electricity.
I closed my eyes for secs,
Open it a bit through the specs.
Thought it was a nightmare-
Maybe one of the lies the dreams spare.
But nay it was a raw truth,
A truth unmissed with alcohol-
Stance like the undauted rock,
Looking indifferently steady like a moor.
So at last i'm here,
Even America is now my peer.
What i'd longed for months,
Just entered through my door when hope was lost.
Now my joy's fulfilled,
Into the pitch now to be fulfilled.
Americans?
An Hero is here.
Washington, Lions_den is here.
For some to tear while some to care.
17:24:17:10:10
Form:
I preach to myself first
I will not attack your worth
Comparative of many, much I show up
In the love of Christ
For my blessings cause
If not you'll get mine
A greater or additional amount or degree
I am more man
Additional more further worthy in praising God
Added extra increased in love same God and worship
There's nothing new under the sun I am more of a man
Comparative of much
Derivation is from the Old French
Denoted by the Olde English pre 7th Century word "mor"
I am moral
My ancestors may have been someone who lived on a moor or in a fen
Both of which were denoted by the Olde English pre 7th Century word "mor"
I am more man
For I am more than a man
I am God's child a child of a living King
I'm around Him and He's all round me
A next of kin was borne by several early saints
Some of His other God's children may have nicknames
For someone of dark or swarthy complexion
More than mere man
More man
I am more man
For I am more than a man
My heritage may been Old French, Olde English
I am mortal a mere man of spirit, soul, body
Praising my lord God
Created by the Father
One can be so humble I praise my heavenly Father
Understand a man God has created all understand
Some of my kin may been of angels
I am more man
For I am more than a man
Once again I am all but just mere man
My christian name is Curtis Moorman
4/25/18
DEDICATED TO Curtis Moorman
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Copyright © 2018
From anthology “ DEDICATION to my Brother In Christ” 2018©
After early fall of winter dusk it was getting dark
I completed the day’s tiring geological field work
In the desolate moor of the Scottish Highland
I was driving fast on the road around wetland
The car got stuck in mud, I couldn’t take it out
I was in for trouble in wilderness, I’d no doubt
But luckily I spotted a Victorian manor not far
Before the nightfall I hurriedly walked up there
Desperately knocked on the wooden door carved
It creaked, opened by an old man looked starved
He let me inside dusty living room dark and stale
Greeted by toxic smoke of dim lantern to inhale
His curled lips quivered, faintly asked, ”you hungry?”
I was glad this kind man was taking good care of me.
He disappeared in the dark bolting the front door
A long while he didn’t return, I decided to explore
Down the hallway out of a room I saw streak of light
I peeked within, saw he was stone still, sitting upright
Arms stretched out clasping a human skeleton close
Not looking at me he said, “your destiny you chose
This one is old, I need a new one for my salvation”
From his tone I knew that was not a false narration
Cold sweat streamed down my jelly spine in shiver
I escaped through the backyard door, ran to the car.
January 22, 2019
The battles ower ,smoke settles ower the moor,
Clans are broken flying aff tae the hills.
Redcoated sodjers mingle with red Heilan blude,
Killing the wounded in Drumossie mud.
Oor Prince has fled leaving dreams in the dust,
Of a Stuart oan the throne that was oor lust,
like the heron scared of mans approach
fleeing his home being taen awa tae France.
Some say he was a bonnie lad cam frae italia way,
Heir tae the royale throne pretending tae be king,
Nae clue or fighting skill but the bonnie prince could sing.
Noo he was being led awa tae catch a boat tae tak him awa.
It was spoken of in tones hushed and still,
Ane day he wid return tae claim the throne,
Frae ower the watter oor king wid come,
Alang wi lairds cawed awa tae France.
© Andrew Provan McIntyre 2016-05-28
Sunlit days I spent on the moor
Sweet Summer heather scents allure
Bathing in waves on Dublin's shore
Aye, Irish lore Aye, Irish lore
Crumbling castles on exhibit
Pricey ticket; warm day visit
Guinness stout without a limit
Tastes exquisite Tastes exquisite
Stung by wild bees in clover leaves
Winded, needed the help of sheaves
Love for Ireland my heart now weaves
And soon it grieves And soon it grieves
Time has come for vacation's end
And Summer's days with Autumn's blend
When I close my eyes and pretend
In dreams I wend In dreams I wend
The in the momanon
Scratching at reality
as it bites
the head from time
Struggling yawns at insipid dawns
relevance bends and breaks
Front to ???q
uck says the f
defend the loose errs
Keep has been kept
Defy imagine nations
Diction orders the nary
Words twist into swords
lest we test the letters or just be settlers
Take my open hand
no hope and nowhere to land
control and condone the remotest controlled
Rolled and rocked
To a beat that doesn't follow
too morrow worms and tow two moor
Thin king or is it just an ink thing
any one an inkling
Can't follow then don't
Pb is led
All that glitters is not Au
Looking for Ag in the lining
Dread dead add ad a
Live lived veiled deviled and reviled
Knew knew new
Sympathy grows closer with an e
all of us junkies
made from drugs
electron bursts
in dreams of unknown hues
as i walk in deaths corroding shoes
I wasn't there again today
wonder what the man on the stair had to say
Adrift her world no obstacles no dreams to moor, immobilized and still
she sailed through stardust particles then glode into the nil
Into the fire of night she tousled through, by daylight saving time a strew
a scattering of stars appeared leading her inside a flower garden made for two;
The scent of Angel trumpets, gardenias, evening primrose
blended with a fragrant voice, she simply had no choice
as she pressed her little hand against the lunar soil's embroil,
foam flowers, chocolate daisies, and Liliums appeared;
A shift, then suddenly beyond the reach of earth a blessed gift of lift
she flew inside that dwelling place where benevolent souls ignite;
Fawning love plush against the evening breeze
even stars of night choose their light protease
when a small child enters an evening Kingdom,
like a Grandiflorus cactus, falling backwards into time...
Example for my contest
December 20, 2022