Long Perch Poems
Long Perch Poems. Below are the most popular long Perch by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Perch poems by poem length and keyword.
Some pondered ways
to pep-up the pulpit and pew,
but disinterest and ennui won the day.
The clergy went away to get help
and never came back.
Eventually, thunder and sleet
cracked stone, spire, and gable;
neglect, and the cold winds of time
nibbled at arch and buttress.
Where once was a stained-glass light,
weeds and mildew weathered to a moldy rot.
Where once the hems of cassocks swept
now mice and spiders rest or nest,
and baby bats roost in the rectory.
There In a dusty belfry
owls hoot and solemnly perch.
Walls crumbling to niche and cranny.
Amid all this spacy ruin
jackdaws lay their speckled eggs,
while in the misty moonlight
homeless angels dance
upon feather-light, slinky legs.
In the twilight's gentle chime,
The sun's pursuit of clouds allowed,
The canvas painted, red and blue,
Day's grasp dwindles, fading true.
Willow's limbs, in lake's embrace,
No tears for joy's swift race,
Blackbirds, Robins, flight's ballet,
Seek refuge from the night's array.
Seagulls, ducks, and geese convene,
Darkness casts its eerie sheen,
Ducklings' fate, a mother's plight,
In the shadows of impending night.
Cherry, eucalyptus, silhouettes stark,
Eagles perch on branches dark,
Owl claims its post, a sentinel's quest,
As daylight yields to night's bequest.
Sunset sparks thoughts, a vibrant dance,
Lovers see love in twilight's trance,
Lonely souls, dear love depart,
Optimists sense a fresh, hopeful start.
I would love to just fly away
when this life's journey is hard to accept
when the dark cloak I wear is too heavy
oh, so heavy
to be in stillness and dream my deep fantasy
I am falling deeply
feeling my imagination
falling, falling and swirling in a void
going deeper and deeper into the darkness
then, I imagine my feathers fluttering
spreading them out to look at them
I am a chickadee bird on a branch
filigree snowflakes are falling gently
oh, so lovely to feel snow
then, I am flying up and up into the cloudy sky
chirping, tweeting
singing
I fly over the houses
into the park and find a bird feeder
a man is holding seeds in his hand and beckons to me
I love him and perch on his hand singing my best song
flying away into a green forest and the beauty
it is summer and the wildflowers are blooming
I am so joyful as a pretty chickadee free
stay or go, or gather with friends
I am flying, flying, swirling, gliding, soaring
finding a stream, I take a bath in the coolness
in time life is calling me back to reality
it was so nice to just be free of pain
now, I am a girl again with secrets to hide
I put on my fake smile mask
hiding what is forever in my heart
the sadness that never ever does away
am I okay, yes, until I am not
Noontide cordial sun immerse golden spheres
Birch and aspen leaves rhythmically quake
Susurrate deep in quietness appears
Timidly on soft earth shadow path wake
There, where nesting birds await safely perch,
While conceal sweet are their audible waft.
Cool breeze twine spider's web and bees who search
Stunning modest simple-ness echoes soft.
Lone senior British oak outstretch thick arm
Grasp weathered fraying pendulous tire swing;
Mid saffron blaze whilst it mingles off charm
Espy hushed cries for mortal yielding wings.
Lush meadow pigments an emerald green
Self quenching natures pulsing rapture scene.
11/19/2023
Ballad of the poet
When the moon kissed the sun, and light spread upon the earth. *hh*
Bright and early,
early bird gets the worm.
With sullen time on stand by.... *DJ*"
Spurns emerald valleys that blur upon my new-found perch *J.M.G*
While all nature wakes from slumber in timeless glory. *E.G*
Morning glory stroked by a ceremonious dandelion... whisper~ *K.D*
Bitter like morning breath.
Rooster crows, two songs, I share a note with him.
My cat rises to the sun of a new day.
Stretches into a c with her tongue curled and tail furled *S.K.*
My coffee offers the sweetest taste after a goodbye kiss.
Clever and warm, I twinkle to the new morning light,
as I step outside, something pierced my heart..
~Wing broken, his bow in tow, arrows strewn,
~No flight for thee, love lost, bent arrows I see," *R.M*
Everything I see, everything I feel around me.
Becomes a new song.
Born of many emotions.
I roll them on a paper without a pen.
BUT! In my mind they speak clearly to me~
Look into My eyes with your heart... and there you will find your soul * R.A.D.*
"I hear an angel calling The beastly being within" *R.S*
A new creation awaits beyond the path of dreams content,
Eros and Cupid both shoot through my heart." *J.H.*
As the arrow's liquid enters my soul... *RON*
Will that winged creature with the bow and arrows stop blinking his eyes?" *R.P*
He has stretched his wings too far this time. *V.B.*
"His arrow of love is strumming my heart with golden grace. *L.M*
A Halo'd smile upon my face. * L.H*
Has suddenly turned to a grimace! *G.S.*
(( feel free to add a line** in my comment box... ))
This is the veridical horizontal
Laying it on the line
This is the flat out truth
That its plane to see its sign
Isaiah Forty Twenty-two
"He sits enthroned above the circle of the earth
And its people are like grasshoppers"[a]
From His birds-eye view, His perch
"He stretches out the heavens like a canopy
and spreads them out like a tent to live in"[b]
He does this to educate us all
Heavenly hosts dance for our direction
It's His purposeful ambiguity
As "In the beginning"[c] and "In that day"[d]
When there is more than one thing to say
I don't know why He didn't just come right out and say
This is the veridical horizontal
From the beginning as it stands
But don't busy yourselves with all this
Get busy with what the Gospel commands
On wings of twilight her hopes flew away
As day eagerly swam into night
Simply had not been a wonderful day
Stars in the sky were a glorious sight
Filling ethereal heavens completely
Showing her optimism so sweetly
Feelings of pure love were in the air
Could she forgive herself? Would she dare?
Evil doubts within her soul began to ring.
Her emotions were not easy to share
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
She sat by river on the south side bay
Figuring out how to make angry thoughts right
Gentle ideas escaping for sighs far away
Glowing in her dendrites, bits but so bright.
Plugging in gaps ever so casual and neatly,
In a manner as to not defeat thee,
Yes she had been betrayed, flayed full bare.
Could she release this anger now? Could she dare?
She had been the victim of a masochist’s fling
This humiliation she was not ready to share.
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
Gathered sorrowful ideas in a unique new way.
Determined to obliterate the blight.
Exploded with truth, mighty pen had its say.
She wrote down sad feelings into the night.
Enjoying her perch down by the sea,
And shade of a tiny bonsai tree,
Self feelings smiled, she remembered to care.
She had been lured to an evil one’s lair.
Feelings of worthlessness began to sing.
Forgiveness of self is now parading in air.
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
Joined momentarily by a fat hopping blue jay,
She knew what she had penned was amazingly right.
She reveled in daylight sun’s prettiest ray.
Watching the jay ‘til he flew out of sight.
Feeling this instant she was at long last free.
Absolved of blame by God’s glorious sea.
As she wrote it down and began to share,
Her heart was lifted by daybreak’s hopeful air.
Doubts flung out by a David’s giant sling,
Writing was cathartic, easy to bear.
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
With a hidey ho and a hey, hey, hey,
She followed her bliss with all of its might.
Her words of truth were now in full display.
She knew she would sleep better that night.
Feelings of relief had overcome thee.
She recovered her soul life down by the sea.
The rest of her life seemed more than a bit fair.
For herself, she again started to truly care.
Warm heart full of hope began to sing.
Possibility of true love now in the air.
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
That even
The cool even breeze
That brushed in like a kitten on our heels soft
And those damned insects
That buzzed by our bare flesh nag
What is it now and how was it then
That the entire world lay dead still
And above the distant heavens yonder
The naive moon like a ghost
Nimble swiftly over the realms of eternity
Leaving on its trail
A tail of nostalgia and fantasy
It’s at the juncture remembered we
That the world was alive no more
When the Nightingale
Had staged its feat
That tune endowed with gems fable
Harmonizing the vows mingled
I still glance at it in grin
Drifting of the heart a raft obsession
A thwarted version replay
And my dream embraced abreast
And there did perch my heart
In hoarse gasps and sighs
Under the shades of the night bare
The soft whine and grunt
The intent cracked by hearts in hearts
And the decree that ensued
Yes I do!
The Ferris wheel, a spoked and sputtering crown,
Pinned back the velvet dark. We paid our fee
In crumpled bills, bought passage to the town
Where gravity forgot to work its shift for me.
Neon stuttered sermons: "Try Your Luck!"
"See Freaks! Win Love!" The calliope’s thick breath,
A sticky-sweet confection, made us drunk
On promises spun sugar-brittle, sweet as death.
We traded common sense for ticket stubs,
Gulped down the chaos. Bumper cars collided
With jarring joy, released electric grubs
Of laughter down our spines, fear undecided
If it should stay or flee. The Tilt-A-Whirl
Unstitched the solid world, flung stars askew
In streaks of cheap chrome, made the pavement curl
Beneath our feet. I held tight onto you,
A fixed point in the whirling, painted blur.
The rifle range barked sharp, tin cans leapt high.
A sad-eyed bear, impossibly demur,
Watched from his perch where hopeful bullets die.
We shared spun sugar, ghosting on the air,
A sweetness gone before it reached the tongue,
Like fortunes told by Madame Zara’s stare
In smoky glass where futures, cheap, were hung.
The haunted house exhaled its chilly moan.
We walked through shrieks (machine-made, mostly sound),
Past rubber bats and bones of plastic thrown
To frighten children. On the trembling ground,
The roller coaster’s skeleton outlined
A shriek against the stars, a rattled breath
Of riders flung through space, ecstatically blind.
We felt its tremor, smelled its oil and death.
Then, sudden quiet by the carousel,
Its painted horses frozen mid-career,
Up, down, around, beneath a tarnished spell.
The music box wound down, the notes unclear,
Like childhood memories half-drowned in time.
The lights began to shutter, one by one.
The midway sighed. The air grew thick with grime
And spent excitement. All the magic, done.
We walked back through the gates, the real world vast
And strangely silent after all that din.
Holding the cheap prize that was meant to last,
A plastic star still glowing deep within
Its fragile shell – a captured, fading spark,
A testament to how we briefly flew
Above the ordinary, through the dark,
On borrowed light, just me and just... and you.
The carnival's clockwork heart beat slow, then ceased,
Leaving just echoes, ticket stubs, and peace.
This bridge has arched the lake's narrows
for a century, flanked on either side
by Autumn trees shedding their faded leaves,
blowing with the first snowflakes
across worn gray stones of my spirit.
Six months ago you felt the first pain.
Now you lie in white sterility
of hospice care, continually exorcizing
the feeding tube, a final tether
binding you to earth,
where the morphine pump wheezes
every fifteen minutes
and missionaries advise prayer
to the strength-less living.
Your a**hole oncologist told me your suffering
was none of my business.
I told him to take his prognosis,
as suffocating as the pine cleaner
lingering like miasma
over hallway linoleum,
and get the f**k out.
From the corner of my eye
I spot a wild rose sprouting on the bank
at the base of a haggard maple,
an anomaly in bleak October,
glaring crimson as my resentment,
angry as the dream when I said,
I'll be your will when yours is gone.
Knowing full well it won't survive the winter,
I give fate the finger
from my dismal perch,
just as I gave you two dozen such blooms this Mother's Day.
I'll see you in Spring,
rises the phoenix from my Summer ashes.
The flurries thicken around me
like a gathering of angels.
With eyes stinging
I toss plucked petals of pennies
into the Judas lake
while wishing as hard as I can.
12/31/18