Long Pigeons Poems
Long Pigeons Poems. Below are the most popular long Pigeons by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pigeons poems by poem length and keyword.
(Now) I've forgotten how to love
Can you help me?
I've lost my feelings,
since you left...
Won't you please...return them!
You are the only, love I've known,
And now, you've left me here alone....
baby
Chorus
Now, I've forgotten how to love...
since you took my love away,
the day, you walked away from me...
Now, I've forgotten how to feel...
the only thing ...I feel is numb...
I still want you...
I've gone blind now...
Now, I just stumble in the dark,
feeding the pigeons in the park,
You were the reason I could see,
You were the reason I believed,
baby
Chorus
Now, I've forgotten how to love...
since you took my love away,
the day, you walked away from me...
Now, I've forgotten how to feel....
the only thing... I feel is numb...
I still need you...
I've gone deaf now...
there are no words, that I can hear,
you were the one, that said them...
You were the reason for my life...
because of you I have survived...
until now...
Chorus
Now, I've forgotten how to love...
since you took my love away,
the day, you walked away from me...
Now, I've forgotten how to feel....
the only thing I feel is numb...
I still love you...
baby,
repeat chorus and fade to zero
John Derek Hamilton
August 07,2017
Out of the dark, a lambent, lovely day has dawned
In silvery brilliance the early morning is drowned
In the sapphire sky, the sun has appeared on his diurnal shift
Over the firmament the vagrant clouds aimlessly drift
Pigeons nestle with their fledglings in the eaves
Bright sunshine seeps down through the leaves
Flocks of birds take on wings for their morning flight
Like diminutive dots they eventually disappear out of sight
All around is seen spring’s mesmerizing presence
The dormant bulbs have sprung back with a vengeance
They bear blossoms of pink, purple, yellow and white
Flashing before every watchful eye a spectacular sight
Like a bride, the Earth is clad in her silky emerald dress
Around honey laden florets, the bees restlessly buzz
Every heart overflows in cheer with no tension’s trace
On every face, smile shuttles from lips to eyes
In the wind I hear the lilts of a forgotten melody
From a woodland nearby, a lone bird sounds its parody
It seems Heaven has flung all its treasures down
And the Earth appears regally decked in floral crown
Within me, all of a sudden, I sense a divine elation
Erasing from my sullen soul, all traces of vexation
Through every fiber of my being, the waves of joy rise
And my spirit leaps out in ecstasy to the skies!
Sitting here at the town square
watching people going around here
a girl feeding pigeons with bread
how these birds love eating so very dear
Another old lady drinking coffee
on a seat nearby in the sun
at the centre of the square steps
the water sprinkler sprays just for fun
Flashing lights flash on the main street
there nearby there's the police and ambulance
racing by going to some emergency
thankfully we have them even a glance
Lovely trees surround the square
so colourful as the sun shines through
even the breeze waves its effect
now the sun's warmer on our face so true
This is spring anticipating summer
bring it on whatever its number!
(Just some thoughts sitting at the town square in Southport, England a few weeks ago while enjoying a short break there.)
When panthers prowl and lions stalk,
the lone wolves howl and parrots talk.
The bee hives hum and wild boars snort;
the grouses drum; the deer cavort.
And as geese cackle, small hares peek.
They see a jackal, squeal and squeak!
Near streams are snipes where hoot owls hoot.
A nightingale pipes sound of flute.
Frogs croak and play as pigeons moan,
and rhinos bray through beetles’ drone.
Snakes hiss, and apes start gibbering;
no beast escapes this daily fling!
In this clatter, swallows twitter,
magpies chatter; every critter
can join in. Hyenas laugh
while in the din, each tall giraffe
begin to bleat. What reverie
of primal beat - this jamboree!
July 2, 2020 for Brian Strand's
Strand Completely New(4)Any Theme Any Form Poetry Contest
11/21/16
Just a snippet
Made out in the land of crickets
You either did or didn't
Put forth the effort, time and commitment
Above and below the ridges
Hits and misses
Pushing it to the limits
Got to take care of business
From the start past the finish
Again and again with a quickness
And swiftness
Focused on nearby surroundings and in the distance
People looking at you funny if you are or aren't religious
The same could be said for being superstitious
Gas, solids and liquids
The terrain and weather calm,scorching or frigid
Mild to extreme conditions
Learn from your mistakes and understand the difference
While still in existence
Benefits in using eucalyptus
And many things that are citrus
She liked the smell of hibiscus
And having koi fishes
Some only talk pigeons
And chicken
Grand openings started with the cutting of a ribbon
Golf courses with divots
Sentimental and valuable dishes
Historical bridges
Kid friendly music or explicit
Messages encrypted
Future events predicted
Shallow to deep ditches
We know there has been cannibalism
Before and after many schisms
Have other life forms ever paid us a visit?
No proof of the truth, therefore does it make it fiction?
Respect the environment and ecosystem
To you and your kindred
Best of wishes
By: Dalton Ogletree
Fonty was a vegan Vulture.
Other Vultures tried to offer their advice
Told him they were created as carnivores and eating
meat
Is an essential part of their diet.
He stayed true to his commitment to be a vegan
Ate fruit and berries but they never satisfied his appetite
He resulted to stealing stale bread from pigeons
Crows kept him away from the cornfields
He was too weak to put up a fight
The Vulture Committee knew he wouldn't last much longer
Sure enough he died from starvation
The Volt joined together as a Wake and all said a prayer
Then they quickly ate him.
Judge Santiago Burdon
Stray Dogs and Deuces Wild, Not Real Poetry, Quicksand Highway, Fingers in the Fan, Tequilas Bad Advice, Lords of the Afterglow, Overdose of Destiny, Architect of Havoc .
1.
any colour may be applied to the
night-dress
this city actually has no cart
driven by horses
before a pretty long time the shepherds
had also told adieu
by secret signalling the red-hat addiction
called the pigeons sitting on the broken sticks
of the antenna to come nearer
on those dead-news the travel-story
keeps awake by whole night
and pours down on eye-lids
clouds
wrapped with cellophane
one day that wave sent
rolling-down-on-the-back hair
to the yellow balcony
those are all ancient drama
in the glow of the back-light you can see
civic humps have grown up on the back
of the birds every day and night
yet
under the dead-stop ceiling fan the dance
of the virgin reel wet with sweat does not fall short
the paper-buckles with the flowers painted on it
gets more and more tight on the air of the throat
velpuris of the evening
offer full enjoyment
2.
the night that comes all walking on the sands of the desert
how much concern does she has about the navigability of the river
when the husk of the water-chestnut is got open
flowing down the waves bursting into a blaze
to that flow is open the motor-car
the wan procession
and all the fishes that want to go upward the wave
so many varieties of floating
if the matter of clouds be let off
the multi-coloured fingers
also have so many infotainments
if the question of moveable property is raised
it is only a suicide-note from my father
and a knot
in the robe of the blue trouser
3.
the trees and creepers of the night
and the plants and herbs of the day
do all of them have the same blood-group
there is much flora
inside the jail-custody also
and in this ruins of the old palace
how much is it justified
to express eagerness about the geography
of one’s character
specially of the trees
of the fishes
or of the humans
it is said
all rivers
flowing through the bodies of the great men
are totally virgin
there is also the blank desert
on the silent snow-valley
in the corner of your
lips
Beliefs, rituals myths... are like organs of religions,
To god and goddesses, in respect, we fear like pigeons;
Apollo, Artemis, Athena, and Ares... of Greece,
Presided over by Zeus and Hera, did fear increase...!
Sumeria, Columbia, India, and Egypt,
Though varied, like treasures, had their age-old religious script;
Philosophers or poets or saints or serenely sages,
Invoked gods and goddesses before beginning their pages...!
John Milton called on the Spirit; darkness to illumine,
Lift his soul from mundane; always to dwell, in the divine;
Denise Levertov had his reason to make his house yarn,
Like a bear; and the snow blocking all the entrances, darken...!
Christians begin thoughts, words, and deeds with the Lord's great Prayer,
Muslims submit supplications - Dua - with great love and care;
Hindus chant Mantras, holding sacred power and virtue,
Sikh Akaal Moorat, Ajooni, Saibhang... have great value...!
The Eternal God living in me, I invoke, in awe,
Alla or Guru or Mohammad, or Christ of love-law;
Illuminate my lone paths in ways I do not know how,
To them, in love, sincere worship... ever I humbly bow...!
May my life, like mirrors, reflect your love, to each and all!
May yearnings of mine, like streams, in you ever rise and fall!
May no harm to any beings, in my heart spring at all!
May my soul, like a waiter, stand ready to heed your call...!
20 October 2021
The cool morning
was delightful and
quite dreamy;
tacked against
a-freshly-painted
bench of gray,
I was enjoying
a deliciuos breakfast:
bacon with eggs
and steaming,
hot coffee...
The unhesitant,
slender pigeons
came quickly around,
cooing with relief,
with an icredible joy
in their weary sound,
to feed on the breadcrumbs
by the birch tree;
I wanted to show them
a bit of my generosity,
giving them most of my toast,
which never goes to waste...
And as they slowly
sorrounded me
with genuine amicability,
their sunken,sad
and pitiful eyes sparkled
with thankfulness;
some staggered,
like toddlers,
on their feeble feet
as hunger and age
were a display
of an undeniable misery...
I did not see
any trotting babes
following them closely;
they surely waited
in their cosy,
comouflage nest:
unseen by predators
and hunters alike...
One courageous
and dashing pigeon
fled to my left
with an hysterical craft,
slightly sweeping
the dandelions
covered with dew
and yellow pollen;
asked for more food
with a convincing coo...
And though my breakfast
was truly humble,
enough to make
them desperately fumble:
my only reward was
to see them eat,
willing to feed
them on those
Sutarday's mornings
and make them my lttle companions;
but to feel their hunger and need,
I have to trade placed indeed...
She was only sixteen
A lithe bamboo in the river shore
In the family of five
Destined to be a whore
It was easy to want her
Taps on her doors were frequent
She managed to avoid them
Her reluctance was eloquent
Fell in love with the village magician
Wove a net of intense attachment
Looking at the purple and blue bruises
She loved blooming the roses in the basement
She managed to learn from him
A few tricks and would perform
At the market and the roadside
Gradually filling her black vacuum
Would walk along the thin rope
Hanging from the poles fifteen feet apart
The people would clap along
The pigeons grew wings in the heart
She would always do it in his presence
Except that day with her father on the hospital bed
She needed about a hundred dollars
As his life hung by a thread
In the middle of the rope her feet tripped
She vaulted in the air before the wondering eyes
While falling she shouted my amiiii...go
Like the lightening he came down from the skies
He stretched out his arms like a cradle
Took her into his racing heart
The fate looked absolutely baffled
How stylish was her way to outsmart
______________________________________
March 11, 2018
FATE'S FOOTFALLS - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John lawless