Long Panther Poems
Long Panther Poems. Below are the most popular long Panther by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Panther poems by poem length and keyword.
If beauty is the reason we love, then tell me
How do the blind fall in love?
What value is fair skin when the heart knows no kindness?
If mirrors reveal who we are, why do they never show our fears, our courage, our grace?
If black skin we question a lot, tell me what do you think about Black Panther?
If chubbiness is the reason for rejection, the tell me why you find elephants endearing?
If white is the colour of beauty,
Why is the birthplace of love, the heart, red in every body?
If face is what makes us stay, Why do we miss the dead?
I call them fool when they see beauty from their weak eyes,
I call them wise when they seek goodness in the soul,
I call a palace, a stone when no love makes it whole,
I call them blind, when they praise butterflies and shoo cockroches,
I call them racist, when they call white, pretty,
I call them patients, when they obese others,
I call them mad, when they joke about disabilities.
I call them human, Because we all judge too quickly.
Near the cold, brackish waters, wretched with bogs
where a gust of the sea wind, lifts the veil of the fog
a rider, approaches, through the branches of trees
As his steed has a thirst, having need for a rest,
and paws at the earth with a fumbling stance
There comes, just a moment to glance all around
While his horse takes a nibble, on the stubble of grass
His eyes focus in, with a curious chance,
In the strange cloistered fortress, with a lift of the dew
is a brooding old castle.....and the story, ensues.........
A forgotten old castle, with moss covered stones
On the edge of a forest, in the thick of the sound
It is riddled with mystery, not a soul to be found
Yet his curious nature, invites him to prowl
Near the top gabled window, does fair maiden look down?
Waiting the chance to call out, or come down
dark spells to intruders, of which he is one...
Care not! He is fearless, with courage unbound
With panther feet nimble, not a step to be heard
Will a flash of a sword, find a gallows disturbed
or chains of a dungeon, waiting to fill
with no one the wiser.....no fret from the hill?
The arched bolted doors, have weathered the storms
He carefully knocks, yet the doors guard the lore
Nothing shouts out, not a bell left to chime
So he climbs to a cove, that lies over the door
And into a chamber ....to startle the girl!
She has waited for rescue, since a frightened young child
Her blue eyes are oceans like the sea in the sun
He sweeps off the floor, her delicate frame
and her eyes are so large, he almost falls in
It takes not a word to calm and convince
Together they flee, from this dark prison's cell
And a story book ending,,,,, is the one that I tell
~
The door rings
I look up
then
back to my eggs and hash browns.
The door rings
I look up
nobody I know,
my first time here
why should I know anyone!
Back to the eggs.
Two sunny-side-up,
the busting of yellow yokes
with a tip of toast --- O Lordy.
I look up
the waitress has bodacious tats,
a phone bursts into song
another vibrates
as loud as a sleeping panther.
The door rings
creamy salutations
of comfort and grease.
Spoons jangle on tinkling handles,
spatulas knell upon the griddle.
A buttery booth crush
a flush-faced coffee klatch.
The skinny cook yells in Kentucky Yiddish.
I look up
flapjacks slap air
syrup pours and dongs in jug and jar.
The door chants and chimes -
Hallelujah for this ring-a-ding diner
and our Waffle House hunger.
Rolling passed where I used to live many years ago,
I saw a white limousine stopping by,
I didn't know what was happening,
but I went there to see.
A Coruña, my city those years,
in front of the "Chaplin Cinemas"
the "Black Panther" made her
limousine to be stopped in the middle of nowhere to sign autographs before the concert.
Mrs Tina Turner went out
from the car in the middle of the road so humble.
Mrs. Tina Turner had a concert for one day, but many people didn't have the chance to be there because there was no space.
She didn't mind to stay and give another concert for us to enjoy for free.
Mrs. Tina Turner I've been blessed by chance,
while you were rolling down the street.
So nice you stopped by my door when you were rolling by.
Through the shadowy nights where wine spills its mystery,
Chills course through me, flowing from you like a sacred river.
In your siren dance, fire and seduction flood my gaze,
Ignited in this duel of desires, in your fierce battle of love.
Your gaze, like an arrow, wounds me with sweet pain,
Marking my soul with your mystery, so irresistible,
Left in spasms of ecstasy and the agony of love, the essence of my being,
Lost in memories that traverse me in nights of wakefulness and dreaming.
Inner fury assaults me with more intense desires,
Thirsty for inner light, shaken by heaven's decree,
Killing common sense within me, wanting you boundlessly,
Watching your eyes that fix on me, silently, just listening to you.
I wander in the labyrinth of your healing touches,
Through hundreds of seasons, aging in your convictions,
Loving you in thousands of words, in dozens of breaths,
Thirsty for your hidden conspiracies, your endless mystery.
Woman with panther eyes, take me with you, steal my soul,
And the heart that beats for you in a mad rhythm,
Just enough to keep me aware,
That you exist in my parallel universe, in my heart, unconsciously.
Surfing You Tube, I come upon
“Til The World Ends” by
Three Dog Night. It was a lesser
hit of theirs from 1975, but
it always reminded me of you,
and that time we were
going to up to Lake Erie
between semesters.
I’d squandered my summer steel
mill cash on Black Russians,
and was nebulous about the trip
in a nimbus way. So, when you asked
me if it was about the money,
that night on my grandfather’s
front porch swing
---of course, it wasn’t---
So, we went to Lake Erie
for the time of our untold lives.
I can evoke “The Return of the Pink
Panther”, a yellow hair dryer,
and waking up from a particular nap.
But, given our model of
discourse, it is not
surprising that we didn’t
attain the apocryphal It
--despite our subsequent
engagement—
And that’s because life
is a business,
and we were a lemonade stand.
All of which is a cul de sac
looping back to those
three dog nights, which is an Eskimo
expression, some say, long before
Eli’s Coming, and Joy to the World,
referring to those coldest of nights
when it took three dogs on the bed to keep
us...and them... from freezing---
Symbiosis---to employ a more scientific
term where poetry doesn’t apply anymore.
“Til the World Ends” cracked the
Top 40 to number 32, the Dog’s
last hop upon the mattress. But
those soaring falsetto peals
on the fade out....Oh yes, that’s it.
Pending next droplet, drip mirror spherical
Rolls speedily down leaf spine, drops sluggish
Earth splatter tsunami sends ants hysterical
Stunned dusk undergrowth inherits lush nourish
Urge pink ibis mini flamingoes fossick forage
Monstera nod, almond gaps dim heliotrope
Panther threads trunks, slinky seeker of prey
Teeming technicolor butterfly kaleidoscope
Ulysses sheen self propelled pages paraded
Overtly elated to give and receive nil sage
Umbrella edges bend, rotund umbra worms
Squirm in church of curving purple steeples
Polished olive flags flap, dancefloor foliage
Rune scribes in immaculate symbiotic terms
Accord overlaps then parts, calm sequence
Your forest of frolic pays hedonism homage
Excused from the mantra of hot fate frighten
Rain redeems rotted logs in soft moss christen
Scintillating hinterland halcyon happy village
Twenty Second of October
Two Sides to every Story
I just saw the most dangerous thing I had ever seen.
Want to guess what it was I asked my cat, Moonbeam.
A giant with feet the size of a museum or a store?
Think bigger my friend, think wilder and more.
Moonbeam is no slacker, she fired off ideas left and right.
A gremlin, a goblin, a panther, a tiger slinking around in the night?
Give up? I asked her, hoping she would.
But this cat can guess for days, as only a tabby could.
No! She yelped at me, patting down my tummy.
Don’t be ridiculous! You know you’re not funny!
She guessed devils, the undead, the Stay Puff Marshmallow man.
No one can guess like this pussy can.
I finally yelled it out, for I have no attention span.
A kitty with a cannon, he’s mowing down people all over the land.
Oh, that’s my cousin, Zeke, I’ll tell him to spare you, she said.
Now I would be sure to keep her happy and aptly fed.
Laying still on the ground you can hear a distant echo,
They say a tidy holocaust, a blackness in the tomorrow.
An eternal sleep set on the drawing of breath,
No great judgment, just a quiet walking death.
That in goodly and ignorant steps took like a panther.
Stealth and lowly crept and sunk it's teeth deeper,
And more deadly than any sort of furious war.
In paleness and horror human ideology crashed to the floor,
History ceased and sent it's last broadcast into space.
And in time now we hear the sound-waves keeping pace,
Like synchronised watches an echo from the years to come.
In shuddering earth you can certainly hear the silent spring,
A haunting voice in the mind of every living thing.
Here comes the silent spring, no worry, no joy, no fuss.
A whispered prayer, oh why have the gods forsaken us.
[This is a Metaphysical Poem, though I’ve classified FREE VERSE since poetrysoup does not have a Metaphysical Category. I’ve uploaded a reading of poem on YouTube channel @ghairodanielspresence in Shorts section. ThkU for read ]
WOOHOO WOOHOO
Was HeartSpace Void or
were there cobwebs and
white lace, ladders and portals
like they said ?
It was spacy
I tried to find a
Centre, then mnemonic
music tumbled down
filled with numbers
I could not read
I heard names and
more names
Julia, Steph, Connor
Malik, Satima, Des
Charlie, Oscar
Across jumped a
black panther, then
came tigers
a Persian cat
an entire Lyran tribe
No, it was not Void
HeartSpace was not
Void
Woohoo Woohoo
White lace and white lice
two in one
the Third was
Void
the Third breathed life !
a single yellow Ace
A Golden, Golden Ace
perfection timed perfection
Holidays became holidaze
drunk, drunk daze
a karmic with a grey beard
no nose, curly locks, curly locks
Woohoo Woohoo
An owl and a pussy cat
Yes, many seats
no green notes
guitar, notepads, needles
cotton reels and there
was a Freudian slip !
a Nazi salute !!
can you believe
can you believe
across HeartSpace
where black Void and
Home should have been
Woohoo Woohoo
There is no in and
there is no out
there’s no right
no wrong
no left no right
no right no left
Just conscious quantum
waves across illusions of
bodies, ships, homes
boats without bosuns
crews without crew caps
youth in woodies, white smiles
Woohoo Woohoo
What is this Consciousness
what is this ?!
Just qualia programmes
qualia programmes
for MY fun and joy
MY fun and joy
Woohoo Woohoo
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&
Song2025