Long Nudged Poems
Long Nudged Poems. Below are the most popular long Nudged by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nudged poems by poem length and keyword.
Harland had had enough
Twenty-three years of racing
Twelve years of giving children rides on his back.
Today his master said there would be no more rides.
They were giving him a good home. He fed him an apple.
Harland knew what kind of home it was.
He had heard about the "good home" from his cousins
Who went, and did not return in flesh form.
Only in spirit form. He nudged master for a second apple,
which he was also given.
The so-called good home was no home at all.
It entailed making room for the new horse who
had been led into the next stall secretly last night.
That poor young horse that had no idea how boring his life was
going to be for the next thirty five years or so.
Because he knew his owner was not wise enough to
pick up on it, Harland stuck his tongue out at all of them
before they led him out to the woods.
After the loud gun shot, he found himself in spirit form,
and was thrilled to see all of his cousins, brothers and sisters,
mom and dad by his side.
If he had known how wonderful the good home was, he
would have come a lot easier, and he would have never
stuck out his tongue. He began to race his cousins, flicking
up his tail, energetic, and proud, young again, and loving life!
On a corner near the road,
stood a man with a cardboard sign.
It said, “ I’m hungry, will work for food.”
I did not stop- I rushed right by
as others before me had done.
Then my heart cried out,
“Did you not see how thin he was?”
“Or the hopelessness that was there?”
Maybe God uses the hopeless to show you
another’s needs, and help them in their despair.
I drove around the block to the grocery store.
Then I took $20 from my debit card and got him
something to eat and a cold drink. Then I put the
rest of the money in the bag. I drove around the block
and gave it to him. He said, “God bless you, thank you.”
My heart was quiet now. It saw the need and
nudged me to do a good deed. Often we take
for granted our easy way of life and pass
right by others whose heart bleeds.
We see, but we don’t see, when we
could plant a lovely, kind seed.
10/21/17
The Good Samaritan Contest
Craig Hawkins- sponsor
The Green Door
Those dappled wings, of forget-me-nots, folded around Akutaq,
though the Denali warmth brightened her whimsy. She sat
for a long, long while, contemplating the green wooden door
in a place she had never been before. (Fairies are good
at patience and the wonder of magic) From time to time,
the tingle of fairy dust tickled and nudged. Her fingers caressed
her flawless cheeks and her pinky finger would slide in her lips
as she smiled. See, a fairy is fascinated and curious. Longing
to open the teeny door, but first she must express a wish.
Sometimes a fairy had a “ready wish,” but often one dreams
for a good bit. Suddenly, her wings excitedly flapping; Akutaq
could wait no longer. She blew a kiss, waved her wand, and
the door brightened into an emerald sparkle and opened.
“Ooh! Ooh!” the fairy exclaimed. Forget-me-nots, she leaves
behind and steps into a forest of shiny vines. She dances
among them, climbs, of course her wings tickle with glee.
On tippy toes, she looks over the vines (suddenly shy).
Fluttering all about, are a myriad of her kind. She checks
her wings - are they clean, pristine, the best lace?
She must present her best. Suddenly, surrounded,
“Who are you? We haven’t seen you before?”
Daisy touches Aqutaq’s wings, “Wow, these are exquisite!
What intricate pattern! Come! Come, you must!” she says
tugging at her hands.
Introductions all around. Aqutaq has been lonely, for too long
a time, so she’s dreamt up these lovely friends. Of course,
fairy dreams are real and call out to other lands.
“Yoo hoo,” they call upon the wind.
Suddenly, reds, blues, yellows, oranges -
blossoms snowing so daintily.
Aqutaq’s wings are clapping as the blossoms sing, but no -
purple-plum sparrows are in between and hovering all around.
The Denali fairy spots a much larger door, an inch or two.
It is red. So, of course, she sits down to think and think,
about what might be. Her friend, Daisy, likewise, dizzy
at the might-be on the other side. Wishes and dreams,
collaborated, will slowly and surely, invite friends in.
I sat all alone in darkness as if tethered to this chair.
Light enough to see shadows. My fear was hard to bear.
They were trying to be daunting, their haunting profound
as they kept taunting me. Their faint whispers the only sound.
I begged them for silence, the specters without faces.
Constantly circling, creatures who wore black carapaces.
They frigidly nudged me, chilling the marrow in my bones.
Never before had I been more frightened than I was here alone.
In the hush of darkness, I trembled trying to speak.
A tear has escaped my lashes and rested upon my cheek.
Thoughts from my past were regrets my mind tried to chase,
searching for the wounded part of me my heart wanted to embrace.
I broke the silence of the night and set myself free
by rippling like a wave that found its way across the sea.
I chased the beastly shadows, trying to feast upon my soul
and illuminated the night when I found the courage to take control.
Mother was away, plucking hens
So I got my mead, in the special hip flask
Sat by the fence, just by the green
Time slipped along, Ken joined me there
And the day was bottle blue
And the trees were nettle green
Over by the wood, the foxgloves grew
All spread about, with flagpoles new
Broad drooping leaves, with spikes atop
Each set of flowers, like purple gloves
Men calling out, across the fields
A simple spell of happy needs
Gis a light! You got the hoe?
Wos for lunch? I love her so
Ken nudged my arm, I took the flask
Poured out the mead, a thimble size
The blackbirds played a cheerful tune
We drank the mead and felt so good
And we heard the wagon wheels
As the driver crossed the field
Another drop’s a good idea
I filled Ken’s glass, I filled mine too
I rubbed my mouth, I looked across
From a hidden den, came two fox cubs
They gambolled on, they rolled around
They wrestled long, chewed buttercups
The bees were fat
Don’t know how they flew
The foxes tried to eat them too
With a swipe of a paw
A snap of a jaw
Then the bees buggered off
And the cubs carried on
Oh, that mead, sitting in a field
Ken and me, in a reverie
Then I tucked my belly in
Had a little squint
Drank another glass
Then I said to Ken
Is it me
Or are those little bleeders
Wearing foxgloves?
And then Ken had a little squint
And he said to me
Gis another glass
Then he scratched his ****
And he said to me
I bet you a hundred quid
His little mate wins
Now the cubs
Both wearing gloves
Of silky cups
With little yellow tongues
Silly pollen pups
Having a bit of fun
Boxing in the field
Good job I won
Cos my mum, come running out
Chasing a mother fox
With a hen in its mouth
I said, oh mum
Don’t worry none
I’ve just won a ton
Fox cubs box love.
Upon a rock, beside a cleft,
Sat a seagull white
A fledgling son sat to his left
His daughter to his right
He told them of the deep blue sea
And of the ships so grand
He taught them legends many
Tales of jewels beneath the sand
And then he nudged them forward
To stretch their wings and fly
Both children felt the oceans pull
And each thought they would try
The son was rather timid as he
gazed upon the bay
His daughter gave her bravest "Cah!!!"
And swiftly flew away
The seagull watched his daughter
And then looked at his son
"Now will you try my son?" He asked
"You've seen the way it's done!"
The son stepped forth his bright orange
Feet, one step, two steps, now three
He spread his wings and suddenly
Was flying bold and free
The older father seagull,
Watched, emotion in his eyes
"Fly farther now my children
The bluest, fairest skies...
And reach the pinnacles of heights
Than myself, and ever I
Could wish for you..,Sweet skies of blue"
And then whispered
"Good-bye."
Visions Beyond the Horizon
The doctor incised the umbilical cord, the nurse held him by heel,
They waited; the baby cried not; the nurse nudged and he giggled;
The baby giggled again; new mom laughed; doctors just haggled;
The new age baby breathed normal; ancient medic annals to heal
Had no entries; baby crying on first breath norm, they had a ***** feel;
Like POTUS, medics threw up arms, helpless to his tantrum. Cuddled
By mom, he slept and giggled, never cried for milk. With heads muddled
They fiddled with the issue; he woke up giggling, laughing for family weal;
But it was strange, people thought it his harangue; he was deranged,
Some claimed. He crawled around sparring worries with laughing queries,
And it was strange, people thought. Their frowns chilled the entire loving bond,
And in expiation the mom showed the cradle, as they stood like dolls disarranged
In Walmart malls, waiting to be billed; the infant spoke, dispelling all their queries
And opened their minds; with closed eyes, they saw visions from horizons beyond!
I recall a scary time
when I brushed shoulders with death.
A blustery winter wind
seeded snow with freezing rain.
I got stuck on the highway
in whiteout conditions.
And the road was one big mess,
traffic was moving too fast.
Hitting a patch of black ice,
I’m spinning out of control.
And I’m right in the path of
an on-coming tanker truck.
The driver’s frightened face was
visibly white with panic.
Letting the steering wheel go,
I was prepared to meet death.
A calmness came over me,
there was no panic or fear.
For I knew it’d be over
in a mere millisecond.
Then something miraculous
occurred, and my life was changed.
Through Divine intervention,
my car got nudged to the side.
And then that tanker whizzed by
with only inches to spare.
I then believed and thanked God,
for my guardian angel.
(Blank Verse)
12/18/2021
DIVINE INTERVENTION Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Maya carried fire in her
Throat.
And elegance in her traverse
The kind of woman who
Could
Burna truth into the world
And still leave the room
Sensing like grace.
She didn't raise her voice-
She raised her standards,
Made people checked themselves
Before they nudged her name.
Her words walked in heels,
Her presence walked in purpose,
And her silence
Could humble a whole
Assembly
Without breaking a sweat.
Maya taught us
That class isn't softness-
It's Discipline,
It's dignity,
It's knowingwhen to speak
And when to let your legacy
Do the talking.
She lit fires
Without burning bridges,
Told truths
Without losing poise,
And rose
Without stepping on
Anyone
Who wasn't trying to hold
Her down.
And me?
I honor her every time I write
With backbone and polish,
Everytime I let my fire
Show
Without it scorch my class.
This is my ode-
Street rooted,
Fire forged,
Class carried-
To Maya Angelou,
The woman who proved
That rising
Is an art form.
The Christmas tree stands
Ready for the lights
Then some ornaments
To place on branches
The large ones and small
On the low branches
Ornaments are placed
Now enter- Stormy
The blubs she bats
Slow with her front paw
The low ornaments
They are removed
Now paws the tree skirt
Is removed from the tree
The floor is bare now
Now she chews the branch
Shei s nudged away
It makes me wonder
Why stormy did this
I ponder my thought
What the reason is
Her first Christmas tree
I ponder my thoughts
This makes sense to me
It is the first Christmas time
She saw a Christmas tree