Long North Poems
Long North Poems. Below are the most popular long North by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long North poems by poem length and keyword.
Tomb of the Unknown
Twenty-one steps south down the black mat
Turns and faces east toward the tomb for twenty-one seconds
Turns and faces north, changes gun to outside shoulder and waits twenty-one seconds
Marches twenty-one steps up the mat
Turns and faces east for twenty-one seconds
Turns and faces south, changes gun to outside shoulder and waits twenty-one seconds
Twenty-one steps south down the black mat
The cycle is repeated
Three hundred and sixty-five days a year
Twenty-four hours a day
White gloved hands snap through the shoulder arms
Sharp green uniforms show no rank
Dark sunglasses hide the solemn stare of the guard
Select members of The Old Breed maintain vigilance
Over the marble tomb
The crowd must be silent
All must show respect
To those who are unknown
To the faceless and nameless
Who sacrifice all
Bright yellow sun, a stroke of noon’s delight.
Long shadow rays, the arms of time’s true North,
Embrace the golden meadow’s xanthous light.
And in her eyes, the specks of joy burst forth.
Amour of daisies blush, like lemons squeezed.
A vitamin to please his ladyship.
Her lids receive in bow, froth light has teased.
A parasol uplifts a shady drip.
Strong arms do touch the heat of love’s remix.
The song of beastly flowers reach for sky.
Her guard lets down. She drops her tent of tricks.
The prettiness illuminates her eyes.
The beauty and the beast outsmart the dark.
Like lightning strike, high noon set off a spark.
3/4/2018
Sunshine Sonnet contest/John Hamilton
Dark fog thoughts
remark against
labor nonparties
early May dazed
Of retiring Birthdays
and annual plays revolving
on Earth
as in Heaven
toward WiseElder North
cold reconceptions
yet bright.
Of 4D SpaceTime
ZeroZones
crisp secular melting DisIntegrity
with sacred frozen Integrity
of EternaLight,
Deduction Either-Or
Win-Lose
with crystal induction Both-And
Win-Win
and NotNot
Lose who is historically there
to Lose who was spiritually here,
rhyming back
and in
WuWays.
Polynomial dipolar waves
polypathic bipolar,
dissonant yet resonant
polyphonic DNA fractal
notnot RNA FourSeasoned structure
Transubstantiating healthy folds in fertile Space
as also wealthy trans-regenerating unfolds
transitional bilateral dark/light researching
wu-wei Time--
polynomial ZeroZone Yang-Yin rooting for
Whatever wu-wei Time
resolves to pull your EgoIdentity into
you can rest WinWin assured,
wrestle LoseLose uninsured,
you have just enough ZeroZone evolving time
to not lose wealthy PositiveLight space
to love us WinWin as we are,
nor even miss our better points
altogether welcoming.
Tipping Points
wu-wei
back yin not(not polynomial)
co-arising Yang PolyPathic forth,
autumn Southern comfort harvests
with Eastern springs
of yin-squared MayDay
Taurus-Taurus Yangsquared = Yinsquared
as c-squared-fractal bright speed
of 4D spiraling
political yet personal
octave light.
Dark fogs of uracil spray
remark against c-squared cytosine reseen,
labor nonparties addinizing
early May dazed gooey guidinine.
Dark fogs of RightBrain Elders
remark against LeftBrain enlightenment
of laboring WinWin light
for EarlySpring dawn
polypathic bright
SpringEarly
dark fog thoughts...
The Garden Fence
The garden fence once was, so long ago
Straight and tall designed for a good purpose.
A finishing line of that garden row
So those deer would not put on a circus.
In the plan, early June peas were sure to grow
Neatly planted and running against the fence
Sometimes green beans would be in a straight row
Then one year Willow butterbeans made good sense
One year the fence began to lean slightly north
After years of so much weight ‘pon rotting wood
Who knew those weighted years would bring this forth?
Back in his youth remembered, straight he stood
Life can start out good and issue content
Or life can batter draining until a body’s bent
Due to extreme conditions beyond Santa Claus' control,
'Tis rumored that he might have to vacate his home at the Pole!
Seems that climate warming is the culprit causing the Pole to thaw,
Which could result in Santa's operation from thence to withdraw!
Mrs. Claus would welcome this news should it happen to occur,
Since she's suffered isolation and cold more than she ought to endure!
Where he might relocate has been a matter of some speculation.
Could the South Pole be his new address to continue his vocation?
This dire situation is causing much hand wringing and ways to contrive,
To rescue the North Pole and keep the Santa Claus tradition alive!
Of course the UN, Congress and Al Gore will butt in to have their say,
As to where old Santa should locate his workshops and reliable sleigh!
Never mind that these people can never reach a consensus at all!
Perhaps a panel of kids is more qualified to make this far-reaching call!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
There are so many things manipulated by mankind... But the truth will always be there, no matter what is said or done, or reported in history books or the media.
Truth beyond all
By Michelle Morris
09/04/2020
Time and space,
A construct of
The mind;
Infinite possibilities,
Creativity of mankind.
History is perception,
The side of which determines
Fate and circumstance -
Disaster or triumph
Are never certain;
Some heroes are
Never heard from.
But truth is beyond
All of these;
The North Star of conscience
Lasts eternally...
Only with truth
Can mankind
Be free.
© Michelle Morris, 2020
There are two kinds of cultures
- Defined in different ways
In different countries and lifestyles,
Valley vs Mountain, Settled vs Nomadic
Or in modern America, City vs Country -
With their two opposing attitudes,
“Let us tell you what to do!”, and
“Just leave me alone…”
It’s a simple dichotomy really
Of a group and collective orientation,
And a more individualist and self-reliant one
Based on the reality of survival
Each different lifestyle requires.
Different people have different affinities
And many self-select to live around similar types,
But there are plenty who find themselves living,
Out of family or work or relationship needs,
As a minority, a stranger in a strange land
Like that little contrasting dot within
The swirling drops of yin/yang’s polarity.
But these two cultures, as complimentary
As they are, also divide the nation
Not just geographically;
East and West, North and South
But politically;
Left and Right, Socialist and Conservative
To some extend sexually;
Female and Male
And generationally;
Parents and Child.
It’s a conflict of cultures we all experience
But sometimes never grow out of
Or find the freedom from, and peace with.
The two after all are opposites
And the one wanting to tell you what to do
Is by definition more motivated to find the other
And tell them what to do…
It’s the world we live in,
But at some point it seems
It’s just not sustainable.
Things fall apart
When they aren’t maintained and kept organized,
Oh, and here come those who have volunteered
For that job!
Now order rules the day, and chaos
Is always better kept way over there.
There are no frontiers left to explore
And escape into anymore
Other than the inner realm of mind
Imagination, dreams and fantasies
Or an addiction, dysfunction and disease
- Plenty of chaos available in those -
Or better yet, a good book in the man cave,
A quiet sit on the cushion
Or walk in the woods…
Something, anything to give us the peace
We all need
From that nagging persistent voice,
Outside and within,
Telling us what it thinks we should do
While we just want to be left alone
To discover it on our own.
(3/8/25)
It's told John Bell, North Carolinian
shot dead a brutish scoundrel he employed,
got off scot-free, and went his merry way.
Life as he knew it soon would be destroyed.
His crops all failed, and Bell lost all his wealth.
He packed his family off to Tennessee.
The place they settled in was then named Bell.
This honor wouldn't help him, as he'd see.
Strange things occurred--kids tumbling from their beds,
their poor slave woman whipped by unseen hands,
food floating off as they watched, terrified;
farm animals ignoring Bell's commands.
A witch maligned those folks horrendously.
They bolted Bell town--Mississippi bound.
The overseer's ghost was close behind,
the chosen family to haunt and hound.
The witch had said, "You'll wish you hadn't moved!"
In Tennessee he wanted them to stay.
New tortures were then heaped upon the old.
The Bells were not to see one peaceful day.
Their wagons floated; wheels just flew right off.
Again crops failed and animals went wild.
Then came the worst; young Mary Bell fell ill.
The doctor said, "I cannot help this child!"
How does this story end? One tale asserts
the evil entity took Mary's life
because he'd fallen hard for her and knew
the living cannot be a dead man's wife.
It's said that after poor sick Mary died,
the Bells were free of hauntings, death, and dearth,
but only after years of pain and loss.
The haint had turned their lives to hell on earth.
Source:
Norfleet, Phil (historian, genealogist)
bellwitch02.tripod.com
November falls
In languid swirls
Of lacy sorrowful leaves
Waning circles
Of shortened light
How bold the cold becomes
Clearing the weighty clouds
From the pristine ebony ice
Of the heavens
Their astral beauty
Reflecting your eyes
As your hand follows
The celestial lanes of comets
All while the topaz earth
Covers our feet
With the comfort of gravity
Yet I will always
Hold you higher
As high as the
Searchlight of your heart
As high as
Numberless destiny
As high as the
Spirals of the sky
Guiding us north
Even if we
Fall short of the moon
We still have
The infinity
Of stars
11/26/22
Poem of the Day - 11/28/22
First Place, Brian Strand Premiere Contest #53
Some years ago, I moved North of the Bay and East of the Sea.
Unable to stay any longer in the City by The Bay, we moved away.
Needless to say, It wasn't about 'smarts', but about 'needing to eat'.
For the further one got from that Bay, the more affordable life became.
Little did we know at the time, our new abode would be our home for so long.
Of places we've called home, none surpasses the 'feel of home' we feel here.
Where is home really, if no rivers run through it or heat waves don't put the
fear of God in you?
Each sunflower and the seeds it bears also call it home, attesting that 'there's
no place like home'.
Rest assured and inform lovers of sunflower seeds that the water is scarce,
but sunflowers thrive.
052121PSCtest, Sunflower, Malabika Ray Choudhury