Long Nest Poems
Long Nest Poems. Below are the most popular long Nest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nest poems by poem length and keyword.
There must have been
An element of safety
That beckoned me to forbidden shores
A common theme throughout
My cowardly members
To dwell among haunted moors
In my white, man made dress
Wanton eyes pulling to caress
Gently rattle, test
The marriage with empty nest
If I could put back
The last pull I took
Maybe I could show
The purity in my look
~of love~
I don't know who I loved
Him, his gaze, or you
My Frienemy, who delved into desire
I loved my precious box - safe
Closed to derision
And the fullness of passion, his attention inspired
He caused me to travel the high wire
On my Harley Davidson of purple fire
One instant of exquisite thrill
Was worth the ice I now feel
As I cry in nothing
But the new walls I've erected
That completely shut me down
Once your presence is detected
~hate you~
...my Frienemy
Winds of a Frozen Wasteland
Winds blowing down the mountain silver capped so cold,
Howling fiercely with a herculean ferocity rarely ever seen.
A cold snap cuts straight and deep now to one’s very bones,
As one’s body trembles tremulously teetering toward a fall.
Beloved baby black crows roost inside their snug warm nest,
As a hail-driven breath spits its hardened bullets piercing now.
On this frozen wasteland of one’s soul—a lone rooster crows,
Seeing, feeling soft sunlight rays stroking his proud chest pure.
He’s puffed up now breathing boldly the brisk cold morning air;
Singing with wondrous conviction true of daylight’s awakening.
This lone rooster knows the gifts of nature’s frozen wasteland,
As the warm sun’s ebullient eyes flash bright inside dark jewels.
A crystal fountain baptized with Heaven’s own purest light,
Appears as the sun warms a land frozen nightly by the winds.
Dewdrops cometh forth as those teardrops of life growing anew,
With brightest beginnings for God’s hallowed frozen wasteland!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – May 1, 2016
(Unrhymed Couplet)
Shadows amid the waves
bird-eye targets,
besties gather for
a fine dining experience;
aqua splits to pierce
of bill.
Fueling up the old pouch,
a winging pelican riding sea breeze
to sustenance;
all hook-billed and needing no bait.
Just a hop, skip-skim
across to side-dish;
let’s have a herring and mullet casserole!
Throat-sack wiggles, jiggles,
down the hatch,
then it’s back to the nest for
cocktails and a snooze.
Gregarious, the lot of us,
quite a personable group;
flashey-fish’in, eight-foot
wingspan, spots another appetizer;
bank left, wings fold in
a dive-bomb spin...dessert!
We’re aerial acrobats of the coasts;
hop a ship and we’ll perform
for you; no charge.
Feathered Seasons
Peering out of the nest
newly budded tree limb swaying
jostling me as I await
the early bird of spring
returning with breakfast.
Dust-dancing in the heat
testing my wings
in cat stalked gardens
leaving home
at mother’s request.
Dodging the blowing leaves
red crested trees mimic me
as I revel in ripened plenty
puffing feathers in the coolness
of a new felt stirring.
The wind no longer cradles me
in weakened warmth of sun’s
long shadowed departure.
I fly to a known – unknown
drawn by a distant calling.
4/3/2015
submitted to – Seasons – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton
It was our third-grade field trip to the Dinosaur Exhibit
We would be touring all the lands that dinosaurs inhibit
I remember the teacher saying “keep your hands inside your pockets”
Then she paired me with the meanest kid, his name was Tommy Rockets
“I dare you to take an egg,” Tommy whispered giving me a stare
The nest was full of eggs, if I took the smallest who would care?
The next day at school every child was questioned.
The museum curator was out to teach us a lesson
The egg had grown overnight and was hidden in my coat.
They made mom take me to the doctor so he could check my throat.
They poked me and they prodded, ran machines against my feet.
They questioned why I would choose that specific egg to eat.
The news showed my picture on every single station.
One reporter called me Dino Boy. I was an amateur sensation
When the egg finally hatched I had to hide the birth.
The animal that was born was extinct from this earth.
A Flaming Pterodactyl in all his blazing glory.
No one believed me, but who could make up such a story?
At first, he was easy and stayed in my closet through the day.
At night he’d fly around but never go astray.
Then I started getting blamed for things when I wasn’t even there.
Like vegetables gone from gardens leaving soil bare.
Kitty cats so high in trees the firemen couldn’t reach them.
Children so riled up teachers couldn’t teach them.
We moved from one town to another and another.
Each time it was the same. People felt pity for my mother
The next morning I woke up to a chewing sound
crunch, crunch, and crunch.
That’s when I noticed he ate my homework for his lunch.
My Flaming Pterodactyl again was causing havoc.
With a trail of Cheetos, I led him to our attic.
I made sure he was comfy then I headed off to school.
No one there believed me until they found him swimming in the pool.
Now he’s our school mascot in all his flaming glory.
A Pterodactyl that … sorry he ate the rest of this story!!
February 1st, 2021
Written for the contest: and then a flaming pterodactyl ate my homework
Sponsor: John Lawless
Evict me from this grimy house
My son asked me what self-loathing is
His home still occupied with laughter
I was taken aback by his cleanliness
I told him it gathers like dust over time
Sweep my house free of grime
Adults self-loathe their homes best
I bade him to keep his house clean
I spoke from my home in unrest
With words from a dirty hypocrite
How do I dust things so unworthy?
Aged I covet this grimy restlessness
Ushering demons to trash this nest
Self-loathing is self-destructive
It starts with a back door ajar
It ends with a house in flames
Invite you through the front door
Into these charred walls of hate?
You turn back time full of soil
You give me rest in my lazy-boy
For a lifetime I’ll make amends
Comforting fractured self-loathings
Till there is nothing left to break
Someday I won’t bang these walls
I’ll wait for you on my uncomfy couch
Hoping my son’s house stays clean
Hoping my elbow grease makes neat
When the master returns to mine
Will this residence be unoccupied?
Will it be swept clean and put in order?
Will I have a response to self-loathing?
Then I’ll be led out hand in hand
After remodeling this divided space
No longer foolish to tear a home down
The cool morning breeze was delightful
and quite dreamy; tacked against
a recent freshly-painted bench of gray,
I was enjoying my delicious break-fast:
bacon with eggs and steaming hot coffee,
hoping to feel full...
The unhesitant,slender pigeons
quickly came around craving my food:
cooing with relief and a joy so incredible
in their cheerful sounds of noon,
to feed on the scattered bread-crumbs
by the swaying birch tree:
where no one was undesiderable;
where all could gather to share their agony...
I wanted to show them my generosity,
giving them most of my toast,
which never goes to waste;
and as they surroundered me with amicability,
their daring and scary eyes
sparkled with thankfulness
as some staggered on their scrawny feet:
hunger and need were a display
of that unimaginable misery...
I did not see babes following them;
they surely waited in their cosy
and camouflaged nest so unseen
by restless predators and hunters!
One courageous,friendly pigeon
fled to my left with swiftness,
slightly touching the dandelions
covered with sparkling dew;
he asked for more bread
with a convincing coo...
And though my break-fast was humble,
enough to make them fumble;
my only reward was to see them eat,
feed them on those Sunday mornings
and make them my little companions;
but to feel their hunger,so explicit,
I have to trade places indeed...
Lavender Massage Oil, Lavender Sheets
The snowstorm doing its very best,
To sneak through the window panes
to our night of play and rest.
The almost musical crackling of our
grand fireplace.
Casting an amber-like glow on your chiseled,
beautiful face.
The armoire with lighting divinely glamorous,
A setting for lovers forever, truly,amorous!
Flickering candles add to our lovers' nest
ambiance.
The piece de resistance is warmed Lavender Oil
making our hearts swirl and dance.
Those magnificent,silken Lavender sheets.
So inviting and what a great and wondrous
Christmas treat!
Good-night, dear world~ here is where
this poem must conclude.
We wish all those in love, a very close,
warm, winter's eve, interlude!
December 12, 2019
With Ma Lil Nude Dill
one bilabial fricative smacking
tongue thrusting (lizard like)
indefatigable prelapsarian
Garden of Eden dwelling primate
doth pine with two lipped treating zest
for Eve fun juiced a tasty droplet, wrest
ting kitty meowing Mz er loo,
sans verboten fruit Yukon die vest
via jump starting
a hovering damn
electric kool aid acid test
Hair and there, a bare naked lady attired
in her birthday suit, the sexiest
plump bosom roseate
sear suckered nipples trickling milky nectar
when casting shadowed umbra at rest
thirsting, unleashing, vaunting,
et cetera viz prurient quest,
whereby this rambunctious
horny bull lever severely oppressed
condemned with life sentence
of penile solitude, nest
souled (sorely testing
agonizing Victorian modest
tee primly and properly
tortures carnal temptation lest
surrendering syllabus "C" ) even jest
a jot, cuz tis pure torture restraining
feral, hormonal, integral hankering
to stoke libido at Parochialism be hest
thus, aye feel unfairly deprived,
no hello kitty will be guest
unsure how helpful "getting off my chest"
works thee unnatural tethered
sexual suppression, perhaps best
left unmentioned, encumbered
with jiggly, flabby droopy breast
works, and unwanted love handles
state of reined swiftly tailored
harried stylishly groomed
FitBit bridled uncertainty I attest.
to black bear
to black bear, cub, or lair
i really dont care
nobody likes days of dawn
being treated like a pawn
you do see
so lovingly
only your point of view
and not the minority, or of the few
who's voices do make sense
but your afraid to see, hence
your darkening tunnel
with a widening funnel
your bricks in a wall
taking a tumbling fall
you need to think
and not blink
at voices that do make sense
and not refute such as nonsense
your words feathering his nest
very classic at best
i say no to the games you play
like pawns on a board you slay
like the back stab with what you did to me
where i was suppressed with no voice to plea
connie pachecho
1/15/17