Long Pattering Poems
Long Pattering Poems. Below are the most popular long Pattering by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pattering poems by poem length and keyword.
why thou must reject me merciless now
when the sun has not yet denied her place,
for the cock of the village can still crow,
when the sky has always been a perfect grace?
why thou must hate me with intense hatred,
for the world springs water they have still bled,
when the moon not so dark, still has her ray,
for the pious in the superbeing still pray?
why thou, my dear love, must send me a way
when the rain on earth is still pattering,
for the dogs and cats are not gone astray
why thou should leave, when plants are flowering?
can't you stay with me till the trees wither,
till when the birds have refused to twitter?
Why do you haunt me dear cousin of mine
I desperate to leave all this sorrow behind!
But how can I wash from my young memory
Or chisel your face from our family tree?
The laughter and giggles and joys at the park
Mama in the kitchen and songs of the lark
The rain on the rooftop like pattering feet
Like toddling cousins in childhood sweet.
The mists off the river moistened each face
Niagara's cool waters in our childhood place
My soul screams in agony "Oh....what have you done?"
The mud pies long dried in the afternoon sun
But muddied in rains of those tears that we cried
When our family was torn to no longer abide
And the quest for the West pulled us children apart,
You were pulled away, and it shattered your heart.
But remember the rays of those once sunny days?
Mud pies on the riverbank memory stays.
But those memories muddied and bloodied for years
for when you took your life
Left us drowning
in tears.
Since fall, they’ve stayed where they had first been put
away from human view beneath the earth.
Through chill of winter, longing to take root,
they lie, dear tender babes, awaiting birth.
Snow melts into the ground and down comes rain.
The unborn infants hear the pattering
and feel the warmth when Sun, aroused again,
shines brightly forth to welcome sister Spring.
Their lovely colored heads all in a row
emerge by end of March from Mother’s womb.
How fleet the time each child then takes to grow.
How brief the span of each sweet Tulip’s bloom!
Each year reborn, they’re twofold. . . mourn them not.
More’s the merrier. . . they’re a happy lot!
April 6, 2012
From Earth and Through
Steeping whilst stepping
From realms made in this world
Into patches of pink and yellow clovers
Covering the paths in static hope
Crushing through them
While wishing to apologise
Except this feels like an acceptance;
An accommodation for pattering feet
Like swallowings of excess
Carving through in roving rivulets
As the most joyful and innocent of destruction
Puffs of attempted balance
Now marshmallowed into impressions
Under the forgiving sunshine
Able to heal them
Should the right patterns of chemical timings
Warmings and coolings apply
Into the next transmutation
Using the needed resources surrounding
To stretch and strive once more
The chances a new patter of footfall
Shall land another fatal imprint
Higher by the bite, the cat scratch, the goat finesse
As it would always be
Here or there
No matter where
I always find the tug
To be alive
At worst, to be destructive
But of course
Only to the allowed extent
How varied are the ways of excess
Of imprinted deathblows
Showing us what we have to overcome
Like careless steps of an ignorant giant
Thrashing wistfully through
And pouring huge drops of tears
Randomly nourishing dots of sun-globed sadness
Slogged consolations to fight over
And avenge for new reasons underfoot
In a finite Earth basket
Just a matter of time
As hands and feet finish their gouging
And sleepless journeying
Known to demand implicitly
Whether to be absorbed
Or charged at an accepted rate
Deemed market-appropriate
So I lend work and productivity
Home-based remedies
Of someone else’s ingenuity
Handed down from ancient history
One shared family belonging
From mutual beginnings
Of simple necessities
And through spiced diversities
The New Griots—Pouring Down Raining Words
From the wombs
of our pregnant minds
may our charged words
drop like God’s tears
reaching the depths
of the precincts
of your souls
seeping like His raindrops
to swollen roots
anchoring life anew
birthing thunderstorms
of revelations
missed in oral tradition—now
staining sheets of thin pulp
with silent echoes—silent echoes
once etched in dry sand—time
unsheathing truth’s truth—unlocking
opening doors and windows
into new souls—new souls
seeking those creative leaps of mind
of the new Griots—rain dancers
inking rhythmic words
flowing like a speaking river
meandering
trials
tribulations
traditions
peace
love
meandering Minerv-like
between double clef river banks:
Come walk in the mist
of our rain—pitter pattering words
singing salient songs of life
showering selves in truth and glory.
Weary Is My Mind
I promise, I swear, I will never, I will always
That blaring sentiment of a pattering ghost that I detest
Among the empty hollowing of her mouth and eyelids
There lies darkness deep and unending that I fell into once,
never again.
Baffled and naked, afraid and convinced I was nearing my hearse
She runs screaming, yelping in madness as her body falls dead
Once I thought I knew, but as fate would incline
The truth would be only a weapon and shield–vulnerable. . .
never again.
The prating sound squawks as death marks before her squalid breathy voice
Her pupils' contract like a viper’s hint at prey, pouncing, and then devouring
The blood is left spattering and spurting among my grey, hollow walls
Only her wedded can clean out the muck as I have given up,
never again.
Coiling around me with her slippery scales, the precipice of my demise
The sword and the shield once though best, were only cardboard copies
My soul is shattered, and my will is blank, giving into her sweet, nectary venom
The forefront of my being is gone. . . crushed under a blanket of rue
For Weary Is My Mind
Do you see the rain dance
no drop at a still stance,
pitter pattering all around
bouncing back to the ground
Steady there while you sit
as atop your head they hit,
each one is an invitation
and a newfound inspiration
No more need to stay inside
or under an umbrella hide,
simply set your soles free
leave all your troubles be
You can see the rain dance
live a little, take a chance,
lasts only a minute or two
later on skies will be blue
The skin will feel every drip
fresh enough to take a sip,
falling so freely in the air
let them tangle in your hair
Two together become one
washed over by innocent fun,
to thoroughly enjoy the soak
before the clouds above broke
If rain could it might smile
because for a short while,
here under the circumstance
you decided to join their dance.
Brooding nimbus darken the sky
suddenly clouds burst
Rain drops thunder down
then subside to a gentle pitter patter
on the Perspex conservatory roof
I watch as raging rivulets of rain
run down the windows
and hear the old drains gurgling
at the deluge of water
I peer outside as the pitter pattering ceases
to see the sun
She’s playing peek a boo from behind a cloud
Huge puddles have formed on the stone flags
Millie, my young granddaughter grabs my hand
“Come on grandma, grab your wellies” she giggles
“Let’s go out and jump in the puddles”..
And so we did!
In her cold, snowy breasts
They lay me down to rest
The pattering of earth
The gravel and the dirt
It doesn't hurt
I don't even feel it;
I hear it as it hits
The top of the casket
I hear my darlings crying
And throwing tearful fits
By far, the worst part of dying:
The grieving I feel
From family and friends
If only they knew,
Though death is real,
Life never ends
And we’re always with you
Even if you’re too sad to see
The wilted rose beside you
Is me
The clouds and falling snow
Is a me, you’ll come to know
When you look out the window
And trace the blowing leaves
And imagine their dry crinkling
And somber familiarity we’d share
Both loving the crisp winter air
How everything seems golden
Yet bare
Your heart sees me
Sees me standing there
Next to the old tree
As a cat’s glare gathers in the gloom
Recollecting me
Sunshine can be found even on a gloomy rainy day. Yes, it can be found. You might think that I'm crazy for saying that. But it's true, you can find sunshine anywhere. It's omnipresent. Maybe it's in your smile and you just have to find it by looking at your pictures when you were just a baby or 9 or 10 full of dreams and sunshine of course. You see, finding it is not that hard. The real thing is whether you want to find it or not. Maybe try rummaging through some memory drawers of yours, you might find a gem if the drawers are of great quality. Well, never go looking for the rain, you can always find it in your eyes. Gloomy days have their own value just like every emotion has its own taste. Happiness tastes like a soothing, delectable dessert after eating something spicy when you finally breathe after a day full of sadness and the wisdom that slowly pulls you out of the dreary dark feels like sunshine. How beautiful life is! I think tasting every emotion is living your life to the fullest. Dear reader, go and find that sunshine or eat that dessert that has been waiting for you.
Here comes after the
Ferocious rain pattering,
Wise rays of sunshine.