Long Plink Poems
Long Plink Poems. Below are the most popular long Plink by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Plink poems by poem length and keyword.
When you arrive at Gibeah of God, where the garrison of the Philistines is located, you will meet a band of prophets coming down from the place of worship. They will be playing a harp, a tambourine, a flute, and a lyre, and they will be prophesying. 1 Samuel 10:5
David, together with the commanders of the army, set apart some of the sons of Asaph, Heman and Jeduthun for the ministry of prophesying, accompanied by harps, lyres and cymbals. 1 Chronicles 25:1
But now bring me a harpist.” While the harpist was playing, the hand of the LORD came on Elisha. 2 Kings 3:15
BRING ME A HARPIST
To quiet the soul, worship the King.
He resides on heaven’s throne.
He’s far above the earthzone.
Can you hear the plink of lyre and harp,
the filigree waft of the flute,
feel the lissome shake of the tambourine,
as they quicken
your heart past the pearly gates?
A calm and quiet place,
peace beyond all understanding,
as the fires break out and war overwhelms
mortal inhabitants…the peaceful stir
of Christ’s sleeve and hem of adoration.
Angels arrive on location,
drawn to the praise of imperfect steps,
their staircase unseen
but the melodic notes lift
their knees, their feet
as if men too had angel’s wings.
Praise cannot see the visible,
every eye closed, the scent of Eden
better than any royal rose-laden path.
God’s camp comes with sweet music
on fingers, lips, against the thigh,
in the oxygenated air — shuts the mouth
of lions, freezes frenetic fire, parts the seas.
The hand of the Lord arrives
as the music comes alive
and mankind opens his mouth
and prophecies.
Almighty calm curtails the dragon’s tail.
Zephyr of minted-praise tamps its breath.
*Hallelujah!
Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.
Hallelujah!*
2/15/2022
*to* from Psalm 150
What a strange thing to compare yourself to.
Something that slips from water to land
tastes the sun, slipping into the muddy dark again.
What a strange comparison
woman and reptile
warm and
cold-blooded.
Things that carefully harbor their eggs
let the sun run a hand of life over their hearts.
Lead them to the backwaters so they can grow into their shells, then fend for themselves.
Woman and reptile
deflecting the man jaws of living.
Retreating, then snapping a wary eye on the dark beak of life.
A favorite backwoods pond rimmed with Faries and such.
A favorite log to rest upon.
(me?)
Then what, a shadow comes along, then plunk-plink again.
Leaving purple ripples around these hungry hearts.
Dynamic Re: Flexion Within The Restless Earth
Blame Neptune for unleashing
Indonesian tragic phenomena
just by his innocent wink
merely intended by regular
casual reminder
for Earthlings to think
seriously how (inhabited
linkedin chain of islands,)
yea kinda resembling a slink
key, within the ring of fire,
a large 40,000 km
(25,000 mi) horseshoe shape, -
Yukon also envision
a vague watery rink
encompassing basin of Pacific Ocean,
where e'en the subtlest plink
(no doubt unintentional), thus
absolutely necessary for inhabitants
to catch the latest
drift (albeit continental),
he gave forewarning
just days prior,
possibly relayed after
getting tipsy from overdrink,
hence warning not taken seriously,
where majority resident didst
a practical joke got played,
yet a coterie of attentive people
accoutered in faux mink
(dressed to the nines
fur a gala fete
also taken by surprise,
no one sensed
any sudden high jink
then the cleaners),
and really the entire
population sustained strong kinship
with (what they believed
tubby) reasonable god
(a carry over from Greco
Roman Times font size 12),
hence could never suspect,
he would hoodwink
boy (and girl), whar
they ever wrong, come
Friday, 28 September 2018
at 17:02h military time,
or 7:02 post meridiem
an earthquake measuring 7.4
on Richter magnitude scale
leaving Indonesian island
of Sulawesi in total ruins,
from said rat fink
and additionally webbed,
wide whirling countersink
triggered a massive tsunami
razing humongous chink
essentially wiping off the map
in an eye blink,
whereat his lordship
could not be reached,
thus survivors bethink
sum man tricks brought
water ship down,
ah buoy big boon
dog gull upon his head,
boot nonetheless coon
sitter ably less of Neptune!
Tuesday was the day that Saturn came crashing down out of the sky.
She fell with a plunk, many people thought they were going to die.
She got smaller and smaller, until she fell with a tiny little plink.
Saturn fell in my grandmother’s dark room, into her photogenic sink.
We grandkids asked Grams, should we share Saturn's plight?
Gram yelled. This is a dark room. Do not turn on that light!
Saturn spoke to us, using extraterrestrial telepathy.
She ate short bread cookies, and some of Grandma’s dandelion tea.
We kids do not keep secrets, so I guess you know bye and bye.
FBI came and began searching for Saturn. Grams said it was a lie.
Now two FBI agents are locked in basement – Pete and Old McSly.
Because Grams said if Mr. Lee turned on the light, he was gonna die.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The boat still waits where water meets the shore,
its hull a ghost of varnish, cracked and thin.
Dad’s empty boat rides the waves no more.
Motor sits idle—no strong hands the throttle to pull
at dawn’s first blush or dusk’s slow-settling din.
The boat still waits where water meets the shore.
I trace the name he carved with patient score:
Ninnie Poo—paint now like weathered skin.
Dad’s empty boat rides the waves no more.
The pines still lean as if they’re listening for
his whistled tune, the hook’s sharp plink within.
The boat still waits where water meets the shore.
The perch still school where cattails root and sprawl,
untroubled now by his net or his custom-made jig-spin.
Dad’s empty boat rides the waves no more.
The lake holds silence, calm and still with languor.
Hushed wooden dock moans, wondering where Dad has been.
The boat still waits where water meets the shore.
Dad’s empty boat rides the waves no more.
......................Plink:plink:pling!...................?ah doo:ah doo: ah Doo!..........
Colossi of Memnon oh ye ah, the size and eminis and emormous importance.........Oh ye Corcovado hill, The skie speaks to the people......Whoomp:whoomp;whoomp; Whoomb!
Cry for the People oh people
Satan scripts your way.They speak you antisocal, because you knowest not what they speak. Cry oh ye ppeople everyday.The sort though they build walls in skies
were lighting strikes
and Valentines are sweetest together but they wish thee apart, Cry oh ye people Cry!" Plinka:plinka:Plung!
Love is Sweeter together.
Woman I...
Woman I.....
I love you>>>>>>>
Surest as anyone
could love a Woman.
I lovest You!
The skies shall move to bring us together
Oh istest Me!
Woman I love You.....
Moring Glory I cherish thee
Evening Sun The Day between.
Might we marry to be as one
To Cherist most
We love as One.
A man Ask's his Lover to Co-sign for him to purchaase 3-d Printer!
He wishes to start a business with his Machine.
He sang this song to her with an orchestra
hoping it would get her in the Mood for being businessminded!
inxs of cold playing air
froze natural pond, where over head Canadian geese did blare
honking the latest goose sip loud and clear
when from behind a bush (color of smashed pumpkin) did peek a deer
alert to any danger by parking upright either one or both ear
lest predator doth lurk and induce fear
while Harris Family and friends oblivious attired in wintry gear
which protection from cold caused difficulty to hear
necessitating cupped gloved hands to punctuate every muffled word
to be but barely heard
akin to talking with mouth full of custard
above the quiet riotous mirth from this then gawky child nerd
precariously maintaining balance on his skates and glide like a bird
such attempts made this boy appear quite absurd
ah, if only this mind of mine did two step quick think
but woe misfortune awaited across the bumpy natural rink
blithely jettisoning myself hither and yon like a rolling stone going plink
unaware while in camouflage pose disguised as one sneaky slippery fink
that snuck up in a blink
that found me squarely face down shattering left front tooth
immediately discovered via tongue as private sleuth
finding me in extreme agitated state forsooth
as if on fire from red hot chili peppers wrought from jagged booth
winning sympathy from parents who did level best to tend distraught son
who ushered playback of events with less disastrous rerun
praying for an angel to grant reverse outcome brought none
gut wrenching grief immediately terminated former fun
damage irreversible and perfect white smile forever broke con!
Conscientiously Combat Contamination:
Pass punitive laws policing polluters
Keep chemicals from killing crops like corn
Plink and plunk pests with pure, perfect panaceas
Segregate and shun smokers of cigars and cigarettes
Contradictorily, Contribute to Contamination:
Permit and protect pernicious ***********
Validate, vindicate, and venerate video violence
Liberate, laugh at, and lionize lascivious language
Glorify and giggle at graceless, gutter-fed gossip
Counteracting Contamination
Can't cut both ways, can it?
Contest Entry - "Contamination" - Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Written: December 12, 2023
______________________________________________
Twilight swallowed me, striking me speechless
With subtle caress of a wicked breeze
Stirring the surge, I drift inwardly
And wild geese soar home in the sky.
Floating at a low level on a long, rolling skein.
Their banter ruined their afternoon
Friends unified on a familiar trip.
I've seen them ride on the oceans.
Pulling back the waves' white locks.
In the quiet, glassy sea, my skiff barely ripples.
Lavender clouds and double geese.
Random ideas diffuse as waves.
But my ideas act as stars in the sky
Bringing delight with a single chuckle.
Happiness simply cannot be accounted for.
Also, it seems as a wayward child.
Even amid the thrills, sadness arises.
Akin to one drop of rain on quiet waters.
Spread ripples will erase dazzling rays.
With a single echoed plink of its sad note.
Is it worth staying with the wispy Hope scarf?
Then laid across my shoulders?
The light tilts on other days.
That warms the day as a lover's kiss.
And I anchor at home in delightful calm.
plink, plink, water in the sink
sinks slowly into budding suds
torturing the pans and fork tines
who want cascade - show on the road
plink, plop, hands over ears, now stop
but slowly the spatter of drops
like the slow go of a rain storm
keep habitating, repeating
their ear-splitting, liver-bellied
bullying of the spoons and cups
the apron-covered giant turned
off the faucet, threw in the rag,
then the sponge, ew…her hands with gloves
now each piece, that is us, is scrubbed
and ah, true running water-rush
each of us towel dried, put ‘way
from nightmarish brutality
we rest…we rest..until lipstick
lands on the side of grinds in cup
and pan slams onto surface heat
in other words, we get beaten
then comes water in sink, awaken
the bully who sleeps eight hours
look forward to vacation, hers!