Long Pluming Poems
Long Pluming Poems. Below are the most popular long Pluming by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pluming poems by poem length and keyword.
.
Spinning
as if out of control
yet
not
Around
and around and around
and around
the flower spun
pluming
like the peacock
yet still
that innocent flower
spun
and with all beauty
slid
and on the spheroid of ice
with a touching soft pause
the flower
bow'd
What is brewing in kitchen? Flavour of Cooking? ....mmm.. it smittens.
Meals are memories......stories to be listened...
Those sound of aroma...were noisy....but they glistened...
Kneading of dough....bangles tinkling....banging of plates...cups clanking...
Perhaps it's the tap.....somewhere water is bouncing...
The brownies are baking....off goes the timer.....the oven is beeping.
Pop goes the toaster......mixer is grinding.
cooker is whistling....something smelling?....it's the milk spilling.....
smoke is pluming...steamer is boiling....
the hot pan sizzling.....it's oil and water wrangling....
the pancakes flipping....beaten batter thumping....
cream is whipping....veggies are chopping.... onion garlic sauting...
The 'orchestra' of kitchen......taste buds are singing..
The gallery of dining.... or a table of painting? ....
So audible....So visible...."Homemade Love" is cooking...
The recipe? my words are writing!!
Half-baked unwise vouch no words pleasing,
One-- frank, plain-speaking knows no cheating,
Greedless longs for no governing chair,
One-- desire-less aspires no pluming.
_____________________________
Sanskrit Translation | 22.01.2026 | desire, frank, officer, wants, wise, quatrain
Note: Some quatrains called shlokas in Sanskrit are known as Subhaashhitams, words well-said. This one presents some practical wisdom on half-baked unwise, frank persons, and those desire-less. Transliteration is as under:
na avidagdhah priyam brooyaat,
sphuta-vaktaa na vañchakah |
nih-sprhah na adhikaari syaat,
na a-kaamee mandana priyah || Subhaashhitam ||
Learning to swim, when a baby fish
Finds in a secret power to unleash
The power within to fine swim
Underlying, to just push and trim
To open the colourful energy to bloom
Too soon to enjoy the freedom from cocoon
The baby fish, pluming himself on its fins
Finding ways to break comfort zone –wins
The baby fish rides on swim like a sea horse
Quick enough to rush in &out to let her secret bubble Morse
To find the power within to all the aqua bezzie
To make the world of water – full of power pals
And float the message of power within in Blue Ocean
The joy of discovering the hidden power in one’s ocean.
Stashed with programs recorded, which, condensed on universal files
Will tell them very little of what they don’t know and may never know
In this lifetime or the next heaven, in this orbit or the next
Treasure from this Earth loaded up on classical chips, some kind of text
Even the quantum loads with memory mimetic, made to mimic the brane
Will lead you no where’s at all, empty, with your mind well past insane
For what else or beyond could be so crazy as to part from this precious earth
Without ever having known it’s cost, price, work, measure or stint of worth
And clearly, those who leave, when they leave, will not have known one grain
Of sand or soil, mud or toil: all dusty plows pluming billow-clouds into rain
Run on gasoline or stocks of mules, donkey, horse, or ram, shepperd’s hand
Fields from lost fields, turning wheat from grass, rice from blue water land
The mystery of death and birth still a mystery; life a mere reminiscence
Without any real light here or plant photometry, only luminescence
Imagine leaving this planet without every having known it’s rhythm
Going to some other world set in it’s own path, with it’s Keplerian hum
Beating out some different drum, set in a blinding sphere of light and sound
Like blended whiskey with the Irish; or Navajo, without the calendar round
Sans irony, the starmen will consult their astrologer or star-chart for this logic
Countin’ the days before they land again when the stars are [csmo]allo-genic
Since this cosmos has revealed no light to them, the starmen going forth
Eager to jump off of Earth’s orbital path, bend and trajectory
Their spacesuits, ships, tanks, sabres, and thrusters made from the factory
Everything printed like plastic in hazy glow and in false dimension
In light and low gravity, with false smiles and fat charms hanging in suspension
How could the new age begin completely unaware, one might ask ?
With no real knowledge of how the past one ended, without a task
This high level of dimness, this naivete, and ignorance unknowing
Much like blind men on the river styx, or perhaps, along with Homer rowing
Going from one ruse to harbour next shenanigan—look into the Cyclop’s Eye!
No land in Egypt and with Dido elope, with the Siren’s despair, intoxicants in Libya
4/1/17
Flowers blooming
Spaced out or in a tight-knit grouping
All around things looming
In space objects still or moving and zooming
Birds pluming
And other animals grooming
Downloads queueing
Electronics in need of a rebooting
Or powering off, to enable cooling
Below, on and above the roofing
Toxins spewing
And other particulates polluting
Some of which are made for fueling
All weeds were removed by uprooting
Trees and bushes getting a pruning
Especially any areas that are drooping
There's just no excusing
You'd better stop snooping
And assuming
As well as tooting your horn
Or ridiculing the poor
What the hell are you fooling for
When deep down, you know you could be doing more
Ocean life caught by fishing poles, harpooning
Or cage using
Die hard fans rooting
Or booing
Times of booming
And continual losing
Certain insects and people cocooning
Humans continually feuding
Suing
And fuming
As if there is something they want to be proving
Major scale jobs, including
A lot of or very specific tooling
Drugs and alcohol others may be using
And possibly abusing
In the right conditions, water pooling
Near and far from any rocks protruding
Live a life of your choosing
Continue pursuing
Knowledge, and ways of improving
With or without musing
By: Dalton Ogletree
Rejuvenating flowers are blooming
Connecting to earth as life is renewed
A kaleidoscope of colours booming
Spring is the time for some garden grooming
Squirrels jump up and down in search of food
Rejuvenating flowers are blooming
Carnations, crocus, lilies are looming
With roses, red bells, jasmines all bedewed
A kaleidoscope of colours booming
Sunshiny weather is now resuming
Joyful energy, nature does exude
Rejuvenating flowers are blooming
Songbirds tweet tweet and spend their time pluming
Lush verdure enhances everyone's mood
A kaleidoscope of colours booming
The zephyr has a pleasant perfuming
With vivacity, bright skies are imbued
Rejuvenating flowers are blooming
A kaleidoscope of colours booming
12th April, 2022
For Sotto Poet's "Springtime villanelle" contest
I awoke before the magnificent light glazed the earth,
I stood out side on my balcony,
And gazed as the moon faded into morn,
I felt the cold air petting my face,
With eyes closed and I absorbed the fresh air.
From the profoundness of heaven above,
The ray of light glanced through the clouds,
It does not wait on no man to "come"
And sweep it's light.
The birds are waking up
I could hear them sing in the distance.
The sleeping buds arise ,
Spreading their petals to receive the pluming rays.
I snuggled with my blanket on my chair,
Sipping my Bavarian Wildberry Tea,
Awaiting my day to begin.
In a gentle motion the light gleams,
Over the hills,the seas,the trees everything in its midst,
The morning rays spread throughout the land ,
As the stars go dim and fade away.
I see my day look bright like the sunflowers in my garden,
I got up looked at the beautiful morning sun,
Smiled and walked inside with contentment.
Form:
Moth
In a kingdom full of ants
The splendid spider spidering
Deep into that darkness frogging
Death shall bring candlefish
It threw its ghost against the grubs
Deep into that darkness frogging
Death shall bring candlefish
It threw its ghost against the grubs
That moment my soul grew chafer
Through which came flying, flying, flying
How they were implying, solidifying - applying
I felt compelled to sniff the goldeneyes
And its eyes have all the leaping
That bound spathe - that bound spathe
I crave the thundering, thrusting tussock moth
I threw my bagworm upon the floor
I am shorn of my swath
And so I screamed, 'Is that a mediterranean flour moth?'
Deep into that darkness arcing
I heard a ferny, bouncing pluming
I discovered the mildews
That overhead spring - that overhead spring
They are perfumed from unseen ling
But in the fact that it was growling
Still is extolling, still is extolling
Long I stood there blossoming, strolling
And so you came gently swishing
Eagerly I looked for the worms
That thriving, thriving touting
Take thy expanse from out my heart
You warned me about the black art
Wafting and wafting with my tiger moth
While I pondered, incipient and wroth
There stood an addled troth
What could there be more purely loath?
While I pondered, shan and wroth
Plume - plume - plume!
Fluttering in the dusk and dark
The moth
4/9/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Softly uttered, beneath cold biting mist,
footfalls muffled through stifling drifts, empty sidwalks embrace noone,
Frost heavily pluming, clinging on each sigh
In night's brazen stillness, beneath eerie lamp glow waning,
When dawn's long in coming, and all sleep like the dead,
Ah, then lets take a walk shall we , you and i?
Strolling as one, hand in hand, through icy winds
Past the churchyard gates, snow laden and chained,
Beyond empty glances of headstone cherubs,
Far off in darkness, solemn bells toll with straining conviction,
as winds moan wistfully, the tolling pierces the heart,
And I wonder in passing, how many more walks have we,
Beneath the silent moon overhead, white as bones in a shroud,
Shall the secnt of cinnamon haunt me into my dreams, yes i am certain,
For your eyes resemble heavens gates, amd my soul longs for redemption,
An angel draped in my tattered, time-worn jacket, littered with marks of life's ventures,
And yet you bear no wings to fly, but still you comfort me as morning draws nigh,
Crosstown bungalow, windows shuttered, still as my breath
As you I guide you once more up treacherous steps,
Our hands we let fall, a yearning stare betrays me,
"Tomorrow night again? Or when shall it be??",
Only a nod and a smile left imprinted to my heart,
"Hang on to the jacket. I'll pick it up in the morning."
Your smile never falters, unweathered by the wind,
And I turn to leave this night and you,
Leave this world behind for the rising sun,
An arm reached out, gripped with sorrow and infinity,
Pulled back into your everlasting embrace,
A kiss so deep, I feel I'm drowning,
God, let me drown...let me...drown....
You're gone.
Empty streets the morning finds,
save for me and my memories, trapped between time,
Stray dog struts past, hunting eagerly some alleyway breakfast,
But my business waits at the churchyard, still silent, still chained,
I climb over and drop, the gates clank in protest,
Between the rows of headstones, I walk in solemn sprit,
Thirteen rows now, then fifiteen, I know the way well,
And upon the eighteenth row, I find without mistake,
And draped across the frozen ground.....
My tattered, time-worn jacket.
Form: