Long Piper Poems
Long Piper Poems. Below are the most popular long Piper by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Piper poems by poem length and keyword.
Pleurotus ostreatus var. columbinus and Allium sativum and Olea europaea and Piper nigrum and Bos Taurus and Capparis Spinosaand Capsicum annuum. (set aside)
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Mi Rice
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ingredients
1.5 cup Washed and drained rice (more info about the rice variety in the description)
3 cloves of garlic
1 inch piece of ginger
1 tbsp butter
4 cardamom
4 cloves
10 black peppercorns
1/4 tsp turmeric powder
1 sprig of curry leaves
1 pandan leaf
1/4 cup chopped onion
2 cup chicken or vegetable stock
1/4 cup unsweetened coconut cream (or thick coconut milk)
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4 cups of pigfeet broth strained and degreased.
2 cups of chicken stock
2 1/2 cups of sweet sherry
1 T ground ginger
2 T McCormick seasoning
2 cups of carrots
1 large onion
3 T minced garlic
2 chopped jalopeno peppers
1/4 cup of lemon grass
2 teaspoons of fishstock
thyme
basil
anise
rosemary
2 cup of crumbled bacon
4 chicken thighs
4 guina hen thighs
1 whole rabbit
salt and pepper meat,add ingredientsi add remaining ingredeints bake for 40 minutes until fall off the bone tender.
Serve with mushrooms and rice!
----------gâteau opéra-- dessert----------------------
The apostate looked out his window,
and started to believe
As genuflecting pylons,
sent ramifications through the trees
Chaos looked at reason,
was it about to make a plea
I see Satan’s raising an army
or so the nihilists agreed
The Crier rang his Leper bell,
‘our town’s a Godless apparition’
Least he filled hearts with envy,
of a once dreaded condition
Now the King prayed for calm,
in another pagan act of contrition
After his son died at birth,
he had proscribed all religion
Atheists came from all around,
excommunication filled the air
Roots now faced horizontal,
trying to feed off despair
Anxious to leave town,
random leaves block civic square
And steeplejacks are disorientated,
from neglecting their repairs
That hole’s not deep enough,
winked the piper to the knave
He could never resist a shortcut,
even digging his own grave
But the madness continued,
hermits set fire each other’s caves
Shedding light on the void,
by burning alive it’s willing slaves
And as the apocalypse gathered pace,
populations slowly died
Some genius came forward,
a real madman in disguise
Said we need a scapegoat,
a dimwit, an ultimate sacrifice
He was crucified for being too clever,
they much preferred no advice
And whilst writing this story,
that apparently makes no sense
The Queen was in her chambers,
hanging herself from suspense
Children butcher themselves gaily,
having learned how to fence
As for putting the fear of God into us,
the wicked come crawling to repent
So finally when heaven reopened,
a total eclipse tried darken that day
Never to see man overshadowed again,
Sun went nova, vaporising all life away
By
David Kavanagh
when her shadow cracked
fragments entered her mind
shards of false gold
pierced façade and persona
left her in pieces
splintered images and illusions
the mask had been held tight
a rope strangled the puppet
clown’s grimace incised
by strings of attachment
and forced assimilation
a mirage in the making
projection of fake courage
pied piper tune on the march
dissonant shrieking contour
silhouette of crushed empty words
with no choice left
she picked up the pieces
and timid surface tension
adhered to the task
of reconstructing a narrative
without othering
gendering
ab-normalising all rupture
when she looked at the mosaic
the patchwork montage
appeared more sustainable
self-sufficient and rewarding
as the sum of all parts
had been hidden in a whole
where the light needed to fill
crevices and fissures
and she began to accept
time lines and gaps
which assembled
the shape of outlines
of necessary change
12th August 2021
The rampant rats made everyone afraid.
As they multiplied, trepidation stayed.
At first, there was no one who could be found
to free the village from rats that abound.
In the town, was there anyone around?
Along came a piper with a haunting sound.
He approached people with temerity.
“I shall play the sounds that will make you free.
As the rats listen to my melody,
they will leave your town as they follow me.
For my services, there is a large fee.
I will rid you of your problem; you’ll see!”
Soon, the rats all disappeared magically.
Not one rat was in the vicinity.
However, when the piper asked for pay,
the townspeople told him to go away.
“We find there’s no need for compensation.
Nothing’s in writing, no obligation.”
This breach of contract made the piper cross.
“People of this town, you will incur loss.”
His melody took the children away.
No one saw them again after that day.
just thinking … that emotion is the new reason
unadulterated feeling removed from the brink of
a showcase of intuition relieved and narrated by
the heart at the threshold of sentiment and passion
conscience on the royal road to magic sensations
when the hyena of analysis morphs into a dolphin
a unicorn pokes the terrified bubble of the mind
and driftwood flies to the tune of a universal soul
recycled trash dissolves the mental heap of tips
of an iceberg polar bears and penguins transcend
madness as cure for insanity and crazy bedlam
if you discard the straightjacket of conjecture
refute the shackles prise open trapdoor’s springs
refuse to mediate between prescriptions and levitation
encourage the sleeping giant to rise to the challenge
stop to engage with a dangerous theatre of rationale
when bells and whistles chime and synapses jingle
and an inner pied piper heals the rat race of cogitation
the cogs of internal hamster wheels come off the trolley
spin on an axis of intuition and alite from just thinking
30th December 2020
mixed verse
The Pied Piper was our town's private eye.
He rode alone on his piebald horse,
kept his nose in everyone’s pie
declaring humble pie of course.
Piety overrode his able grace
when last fall, he alit in some cow pies.
There he earned a pie in the face,
free gift from our local magpie.
translated from the Geek (below):
Altogether armed, a tricky young torchbearer
strode our streets on his multicolored mount -
Our intrusive inspector, had a flair for abuse,
abject apologies too numerous to count.
One autumn, alighting in a field, offensive odor
rivaled his religious reek. Wading a stream
he entered the dwelling of a loquacious goose
who gladly greeted him - à la charity cream.*
*charity cream refers to the practice of throwing pies in the face (whipped cream sometimes shaving cream) to support a favorite charity..
Paying The Piper
By: Tom
1/26/2021
In my twenties, when woken, I felt juiced,
long before age started plowing my field.
Now, I’ve sleepless nights, most pain induced,
and four hours sleep is a good nights yield.
When in my twenties,
I’d work all day and howl most nights,
thinking who needs sleep, I’ll sleep when I’m old.
Now I spend time reviewing those highlights,
thinking perhaps my twenties were too bold.
Now in my eighties,
I lack sleep, due to my pain’s after effects,
derived from those “twenties” nights of howling.
I don’t have to guess about what comes next,
when I wake up and my face is scowling.
The pocket is in the pocket
The pocket is in the purse
The purse is in the bag
And the bag is in the purse
One dollar for a dime
And one dime for a coin
The coin is in the lie
And the lie is in the coin
The pocket is full
when the purse is empty
And the purse is empty
When the pocket is full
The call is in the store
And everyone is asking for more
Seven days of strength
is moving beyond the den
The villain is in the train
And there is nothing more to gain
One more pain, one more gain
The exodus is moving closer
And the order is making us wiser
There is no more sunset on the plain
But the helpless few, and the damage gain
The wonder and the blame is searching
For a plan to move beyond the land
Everyone is going off the land,
To join the bigger band
The threat is real
And the people are full of zeal
The villain and the mercer
The piper and the scraper
The wonder and the sellers
The shoppers and the gain
They will ask you for more
When you walk through the door
But they have nothing else left to gain.
The music is playing on the left
With a pompous tune that will end at noon
The right is on the right
And they are singing with all their might
But they are not totally right
The pocket is in the bus,
And they are causing a lot of fuss
Morning and the evening will soon be done
And the night will be on the run
Day will break with without a shame
The pain will cease
And my spirit will finally be at ease.
exhaling gentle winds
breathing softly
blowing across
the deep blue ocean
a whispering
soul speaking
through those eyes
shining stars
silently looking
ore emotions
embracing one dream
you princess
who bewitches feelings
encircling deeply
enchanting the heart
leaving your glass footprints
upon white cold snow
warming winter
delightfully intoxicating
hypnotizing starts
engulfing emotions
lovingly encircles feelings
tasting sweet surrender
hair of the softest silk
blushing enchantress
captivating beauty
cherry lips speak
captivating birds
charming words
sings out
in song
a piper plays
this tune
blowing magically
from deep pipes
to give love freely
receiving kisses
embracing rewards
love returned
echoes sweetly
sings an ocean song
so sweetly princess
mesmerizing deeply
captivating charms
this world dreams
in your delight
Watch existence burn; see vermilion flames flicker in my eyes
Whilst you stand amongst the ashes and bones of what was never meant to be.
Inhale the murky smoke of contempt,
Choke on particles formed from your contrition.
Feel the accelerating heat scorch distressed flesh.
Quiet—lest my demons hear you scream.
Perched, waiting to devour
A soul so frigid, frostbite seeps from your stagnant veins.
Mercy is nowhere to be found.
Hysterical laughter escapes from my broken lips
As you writhe in pain, trying to escape.
Vines of razor-wire belladonna barricade;
The hunter is now wholly ensnared.
Visions of the past materialize like static,
Disrupting the penultimate bits of your sanity.
Microscopic questions flow rapidly:
Is this version of reality just a delusion,
Disrupting the very fabric of time?
Or are you suffering for your incompetence?
The smell of sulphur grows stronger with each thought.
Through melting breezes, the Pied Piper plays
Such sweet music—wrath’s revenge.
The Devil’s Inferno is calling you home.