Long Plod Poems
Long Plod Poems. Below are the most popular long Plod by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Plod poems by poem length and keyword.
It has been low, dim, and heavy,
heavens part, light swoops onto open waters,
the overflow of recent torrents
glittering sky-fish skim.
Keep on driving as if the road were silver rails.
Right and left window worlds out of synch
peripherally bifurcated by speed.
The heavens part un-stitching fraying seams,
smudges unravel. Light pushes
into the open mouths of surface breathers.
The grey is rent, more light bounces off eyes;
it is a fast road; squint, grip the wheel tighter.
Left and right small animals un-plod
from the wet earth, hedgerows whisk thin colors
expose nestlings in their cradle hideaways.
Pick up a cup of instant noodles,
a 6-pack from the quickie mart.
On the lot heavens are opening
one acre at a time,
light lowers like a faded wedding gown
marbling concrete
dressing the cars in lacy.
Reach into condo, eat noodles, drink beer
while heavens knit together
with a last twinkle of silver needles.
Work, work, work,
Never a task we shirk
From dusk till dawn
From dawn till dusk
In God we place our trust.
Smile, smile, smile
As we tarry awhile
With cheerful smile
we heal a heart
that wounds have torn apart.
Kind and thoughtful
Never mean or hurtful
for tomorrow our turn may come
It's now or never, to help another
As we plod and keep on the run.
It never fails
our gentle touch
to warm a heart anew
Little words that leave our lips
are like balm upon a bruise.
A nurse's day begins with love
but when sunset comes and our day is done
We hope that God will say
A job well done my dearest ones
But tomorrow, we'll start anew.
Part one narrating snapping crackling, and popping trembling underfoot...,
which ushered poetic reverberations across the universe
A snippet of careering and careening
nocturnal cerebral manifestations
attributed to strong medicament
creating soundless clangorous din
ofttimes diabolical dreams
severely disrupt mine ability
to function throughout rest of day.
An adverse reaction
to one or more prescription medications
intended to combat anxiety, dysthymia, ocd,
and other psychological ills
(prescribed by Elizabeth Clark
Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner)
regularly, severely, and terribly
disrupts sleep of yours truly.
As a for instance recently,
I dreamt figments of mein kampf
fractured into a bajillion little pieces
when the final battle between God and Satan
known as Armageddon occured (situated
within Megiddo Valley),
which I (a diehard skeptic) would not miss
Earth shattering event for the world!
A diabolical entity (quaking with excitement)
accidently (perhaps purposely) let slip
the Apocalypse will strike seven days
after today. Yours truly along with bajillions
of other people held captive upon oblate spheroid
will perish within seven days. Meanwhile,
I plod along boulevard of broken dreams
ho-hum fashion minding my p's and q's, oh
of course giving remaining twenty four letters
of English alphabet their diligent due respect.
So much euphoria suddenly bubbled forth,
where debilitating anxiety would usually churn.
Though giddy with excitement,
(no more plaintive laments about being dirt poor),
yet wincing back concomitant sentiment also arose.
No matter both pseudo and real
contradictory reactions prevailed,
I did not experience anticipatory anxiety
that usually gets triggered regarding
some worrisome circumstance.
The aforementioned debacle
(impossible mission beset seismologists).
Poetry Wheel Challenge:
Theme: Adventure
Emotion: Courage
Color: Pearl
Season: Midwinter
Form: Ode
Object: Mirror
Verb: Sing
Created using the PoetrySoup Poetry Wheel.
It was a sudden surge of energy I felt that midwinter day
When I agreed with friends to an adventure described as play
I had grown bone weary of always taking the easy way out
My mirrored face always wore a frown, a pout, or was it doubt?
I gathered what I could of courage to plod through the snow
Thinking how much the sun looked like a topaz with a soft glow
We paced ourselves for the climb and stopped for a brief rest
To catch a breath and chat, but my stamina was put to the test
A strong frigid wind made it difficult to move at a faster pace
but what beauty I was witness to on the mountain's icy face
I felt as if I'd been graciously granted a gift I'd never have seen
and in that sun kissed moment, I'd never felt more serene
but then someone whispered it was time for the return trip
I had tasted Nature's wonder and wanted on last sweet sip
Filled with awe from the day, I sang until the hour of twilight
The moon has risen like a polished pearl in a starlit ebony night
Indelible link to a bygone event,
one clutches with foolproof recall,
of cerulean cloud-ridden sky,
on that pivotal day I penned my first opus,
I strolled at a leisurely pace,
down this charming but tangled green lane,
that would later perturb the gist of my tract,
uncanny those sun-streak formations,
sinuous transient rich-coloured sequence,
each passing cloud had this mammoth offshoot,
kaleidoscope medium hue snatch,
wild spur to psychic pictorial harvest,
downward plod seemed so apt as a title,
perky whisper from cotton wool sweep,
had its dawn in thin veil mists,
I zestfully scribbled each thought,
without stick, hum and haw, tribulation,
prickly hedge, blue fly drone, rambling briar,
found their unforeseen Orphic voodoo,
fervent stanza and spiral quicksand,
spooky banshee air wail raucous thriller,
to spore shedding fern, somber ripple or dash,
tangy vapour guide rails afterglow,
drop by drop float on satin rim fleece,
and so my first plot was conceived,
at the whim of a noonday cloud
Ah! To be adrift upon the boundless sea sailing, sailing, sailing!
Alone with the sea and pristine sky with southerly winds prevailing.
No particular destination in mind as upon the surging sea I plod,
Nor is there another soul in view as I quietly commune with God!
Ah! To be alone at night in the desert pondering, pondering, pondering!
I lie to refresh my weary bones after a day of vagabond wandering,
Savoring the soothing quietude with gentle zephyrs caressing my face,
Gazing heavenward as constellations wink at me from outer space!
Ah! To scale the highest mountain where even eagles dare not fly!
The precious solitude of it all! I can reach out and touch the sky.
Such divine inspiration it brings to this mere mortal's languid soul,
As God's Creation beyond is revealed for me to relish and extol!
Ah! To amble down a forest path when autumn leaves adorn the trees!
Gold and crimson leaves waft about me, stirred by an occasional breeze.
I'm awed by the Master Artist's handiwork no mere artist dare portray.
This priceless solitude and beauty I shall treasure forever and a day!
Ah! To lie 'neath a shade by a rippling stream and dream, dream, dream!
Watching vagabond clouds scudding across the sky in solitude supreme!
I suppose there are folks who prefer to mingle with the multitude,
But I treasure time alone to muse and write in peaceful solitude!
Entry for Line Gauthier's "The Beauty of Solitude" Contest
For God-search to truly begin,
we first cleanse heart from stains of sin,
by gentling each thought, word and deed,
in prayer, going in within.
Poised in stillness, renouncing greed,
ego cravings we cease to feed,
thus invoking the grace of God,
voice of truth beginning to heed.
We trudge along and as we plod,
joyful since giving love our nod,
bliss magnetism ignites our form,
the touch of God, leaving us awed.
Grazed by currents both cool and warm,
we yield; bliss takes us by the storm,
ego dies, we become the flame,
with heightened vibrance heart’s new norm.
We seek nothing and have no aim,
knowing life impulsed is a game,
played in mode embrace and release,
there being no demons to tame.
When wayward thoughts totally cease,
formless presence flows like the breeze
and in the void we wingless glide,
outcomes any, always at ease.
Trusting God, we enjoy life’s ride,
knowing He’s close, in heart inside
and in timeless time, we see Him,
He, on Whom, we’ve always relied.
A company wants naked butlers,
all handsome, well toned, looking tough,
to carry out duties around people's homes
besides apron, they'll be in the buff.
I've not filled out an application,
my chance of success being slim,
unlike, I must say how I look nude today
as my Doctor would tell you, it's grim.
My complexion's generally pasty,
the same sort of white as a fridge,
and the varicose veins you'll have
seen on the tube as directions to
Blackfriars bridge.
A victim of male pattern baldness,
on the back of my head a few locks,
I look like I once bought a 'bullworker' kit
but could not get the lid off the box.
Still, I just plod on along, and not moaning,
one thing in my favour I'll say,
if I did get the job, with a beer gut like mine
I've got somewhere to balance the tray.
The sea beckons.
The air is heavy with heat,
the sun fries the streets
shrivels up trees
and I feel parched.
Tired I trudge towards the waterfront.
Still the sea beckons.
Sweat runs down my face,
wets my unshaved face,
dampens my collar,
as I plod towards
the pebble lined sea shore.
The small waves glimmer,
winking in hot rays,
inviting me to cool myself.
Insistently the sea beckons.
Summer is at its worst.
I hobble down
towards the beach,
pull down my clothes
and stand in the sun's emissions
wearing my swimsuit.
Constantly the sea beckons.
I trudge towards the water's edge,
jump in and then
come out quickly, yelping.
I feel a jelly fish sting,
it burns red across my thigh.
Disillusioned I tramp back home.
The sea beckons no more.
21 August 2021
“But the path of the just is as the shining light,
that shineth more and more unto the perfect day.”
Proverbs 4:18
King Solomon shared with the Jews over time;
much he had learned from his own dad, King David.
The path of the just is no quick, speedy climb
for the light it brings forth is way off the grid.
Solomon had wisely asked God for wisdom;
He wrote proverbs galore, one of God's sages -
sharing divine wisdom with those who'd become
carriers of that light down through the ages.
Believers today find the path of the just
in Jesus who's the Truth, the Life and the Way.
Steadily we grow as we learn about trust.
God's Spirit shines through us till that perfect day
That perfect day when our spirit is transferred
to the presence of Jesus and Father God
Meanwhile, we must keep on studying His Word
sharing more and more light as His path we plod.