Long Postured Poems
Long Postured Poems. Below are the most popular long Postured by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Postured poems by poem length and keyword.
although a group of people sustain their lives beautifying
everything surrounding them
insisting that everything is good
because they are God’s creation
while another group of people
though they also are humans
swallow and spit out loathsome language
go tottering intoxicated from a foul-smelling-contaminated-air
fuming from the languages they spat out
after there came an erect postured bipedal primate
which was a trifle creature fed by dust wiggling on the earth
for thousands of thousands of long years
eventually they started to share their thoughts
looking in each others’ eyes
cultivating, refining words and phrases for better communication
among those words
were beautifully polished and preserved phrases
thru generation after generations of studies and development
they were exclusively used by a specific class of people who enjoy showing off
and thereby wanted to separate themselves from ordinary people, however, now, the beautiful words and phrases became coarse;
is it because the words were abused by them or
their sleazy tongues stiffened the phrases?
they lost interest in finding the reasonable reasons
because there was no yard-stick to establish a standard;
zombies stalk on the street in bright daylight
the fake brand-name luxurious articles overrun the street
DNA twisted weirdly
all children are born mutated and therefore have evolved
to an overly obdurate species, strange world
there are no family features of daughters like their mother
or sons who resemble their fathers anymore
but only a line of families
like a poorly shaped mosaic landscape made with puzzle pieces
picked-up from alleys and forcefully placed to make a picture
they are never satisfied with what they have
and that’s why if you applaud them they demand more,
if their request is rejected they yell and scream at you
with newly invented swear words
rather, like a dead person
no matter how much you extolled him, doesn’t ask more;
even stamped on to humiliate him, won’t cry or say a word
that’s why God may have kept
everything beautiful beyond men’s reach
that’s why men who live on this side of the world
shout and scream
making everything uglier than it should-be
hanging on to the things they can easily put their hands on
Oh fallen star of Bethlehem, your established moment shines,
upon canvas of harsh intent, descendent of heavenly design?
A mighty angel’s leading light to those befallen, pleasure-bent?
Are gleaming eyes masking spites or, our demands, aspiring content?
Looking toward skies o’er Bethlehem, as prides of mortal men delight;
bearing gifts; coffered obedience, marking paths, Magi alight.
When losing sight of stellar sign, in Jerusalem they did quick inquire,
at palace great, to a king divined; hoped route, from Herod, to acquire.
II
We saw a star (when in the east) and have come to render our obeisance,
said light has left us briefly, too the wakes of our continuance.
While in the kingdom his star was seen, glancing eyes into glass orbs stared.
Expectant sighs at skies portending, bejeweled fingers into cauldrons stirred.
A caravan of mystics then gathering, consigned to cross harsh lands at night.
Postured gifts, too much appeasing, a source of imminences, expelling light.
Great Herod stirred with agitation, “Summon to me, scribes and priest,”
and they spoke to him of Bethlehem, from whence shall come a Jewish King.
Elsewhere God’s swift messenger, arrives with tidings of glad news:
Rejoice! Rejoice for the Lamb’s shepherd! Blessed are borne Jacob’s sons to truth.
That one drawing light from the light’s giver, firstborn of heaven’s womb.
He has taken breath that men be delivered, fear no more, door’s enclosing tombs.
III
One question, in cautious need; discerns plucked from common threads.
What purposed such judicious leads, as that star’s light to Jesus led?
What cause that such symbol did cease, perhaps a plan most devious shed?
To turn also eyes of Herod east, these, jealous guards of scriptures read.
Oh bright stars over Christendom, look! Your beam’s a turning compass,
your ray, as flames with many tongues, scouring Earth in hopes of bliss.
Misleading truths, mounting traditions, swallowed lies drunk from waters shallow.
The wise one is made fool again, if needs a lamp, above a Christ we can follow.
With signs, divinities are misconstrued, as such, a star; still you teach our youth?
As light into the night deludes, beware, convincing knees to bending truths.
Female Sempai, Geisha for her Man,
has not shed her feminine garb.
No replacement theology of female kimono
designing of tailored and defiant underhand.
. Her graceful steel honor honored still. in your gaze Blossoms bloom in beauty’s shade,
Elysia dances in a blaze.
Silken postulance gleams like golden dawn,
shining beacon of value borrowed form,
from a garden of maturity amongst
fresh starts humble but proudly born
against the dark tides of nightfall of gender,
but you swim stalwartly, gracefully rendered,
and tendered as priceless currency.
Unquestioned in your abide, even still in your traditional strides, you magically float.
Your curtain call and mode never surrendered,
your place not lost in new lies.
but stand tall and properly postured,
call forth to Godzilla or Gamera children,
taming these monsters with your aura-
of Mothera Den.
In a tale of the dance of shadows and light,
lance in kitten spoiling,
covers mouth giggling, endearing-
respect full waxing Moon of the Sun,
never eclipsed, never outdone, outshined or
parted sum.
Gentle hand waving soft,
identity, tight-rope, mastery.
Matriarch of many a cleansing breath,
in the balanced sense a)
You teach us that gentle always
bends things to its will. b),
You remember the roles of the old ways,
the tried and true enlightened pathway that turns blossoms to honey, pollinates
a sweet way to hold our eyes aglaze.
Graceful steel, a warrior’s part,
in the lines of a woman,
a warrior’s heart, refined adaptogen
you know how to play in chameleon arts.
Strength and beauty intertwined,
In her presence, peace you find
in her precision wrappings Man's great gift
you are that and of the receiving of God's in kind.
Old ways have a way to replay
Scenes from forgotten melodies;
Those stray feelings that recall stay
Upon the whim of plain fancy.
See how my years have flown away,
Clinging to my journey story;
I barely recall yesterday,
How strange these fading memories?
Dangling strands of cacophony,
Old Mattar Road that paved my stay;
Stray echoes now pestering me,
Those faded faces gone away.
By that old path an empty plot,
Where once hovered our rented slabs;
A sudden melancholic thought,
Flashed fading moments in mind map.
That old neighbourhood now obscured,
I think upon old companions;
Missing moments that once postured,
Nothing remains of old fractions.
How distant is this odd feeling,
Coming back to nothing to add;
That draining, uneasy thinking,
A glimpsing of the past now sad.
So much has lapsed in the distance,
A fifty-year march from just where;
I jog my thoughts to that instance,
Rest in old pains that gather there.
My feeble knees tell on me here,
The familiar laughter still stays;
The fun and games and atmosphere,
Where frolic and cheer made our day.
There was a route and roundabout,
Where a big grass field hosted play;
The crafty seasons thrilled our shouts,
After school hours to arouse stray.
The vacant verge of grass now tells,
Of nothing more than greenery;
Nothing directs that old-time spell,
Nothing remains of our stories.
I write these lines of verse to fling,
Moments that inform memory;
That come to mind and simply bring
A brief rapture to my story.
Leon Enriquez
14 November 2014
Singapore
Lori (the shadow of a lighter poem)
Lori, I'm not in love with you, but I do think that you are pretty;
so with a pathetic chance to smile, I was willing to take your hand.
I could not understand it though, before now, you never talked to me,
and I had only known your name as another face within the crowd.
Yet, here we are, holding hands, talking; should instead, as I wonder, why,
as I follow your lead, anticipation, outside, into the night.
Across this parking lot and through the gate, in the freezing air, behind;
The crystal ring around the moon; we find warmth, exhausting from within.
We sat talking on that metal grate, overlooking the gym-day fields.
An illusion; was that warming steam, as a spot drier from the snow.
I was like a blind man, being led; the untrained soldier in the field.
But your permissive eyes, asked me, if I was willing to keep you warm?
So, as I reach behind you, my hand: with your hip and mine, now closer.
As I turn my eyes, in yours I see; to find your tongue and mine now touch
My rising hand finds your warming skin; cold fingers, shivers, down your spine
A postured arch, rising chin disarms, your ear lobe and neck: elating
As I climb the stairs at the hallways end, for she said that she'd be there
Should I kiss her or maybe later, how should I act in public view
As she had told me, she'd be waiting; and, with an unknown friend, she was
They were laughing as she glanced at me, she said, "I told you that he would"
© Jeffrey Spencer
SMOKEY AND THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER
Once when I was just a kid,
My mom thought 'twould be nice,
If I'd invite some friends to play,
And we could swing outside.
I had a swing set in the yard,
Where I would play for hours.
My daddy built it just for me,
Away from Mommy's flowers.
It stood beneath a large Oak tree,
And even had a sand box.
We played and swung and had a ball,
Got sand in clothes and socks.
Our neighbors had a big red dog,
A loyal, patient friend,
Prince often came to play with us,
He wagged his tale and grinned.
Another dog came on the scene,
And Prince was not amused,
They postured and they sniffed each other,
A dog fight soon ensued.
We screamed and cried and climbed the set,
As Prince and dog fought on,
Smokey heard our frantic cries,
And raced across the lawn.
Prince was huge with big white teeth,
And muscles big and stocky,
But Smokey feared him not and leaped,
And rode him like a jockey.
Smokey sank his claws in deep,
With teeth he grabbed his neck,
The big dog took off down the street,
With Smokey firmly set,
Upon his back, he rode him well,
They soon were out of sight,
We worried that he might get hurt,
In yet another fight;
But he came strolling home real soon,
The hero of the day.
"Don't worry kids', he seemed to say,
He won't be back today."
Judy Ball
For Fraqncine Roberts Pick A Pet Contest - July4,2011
Here's an ode I preserved for you in a poetically postured pose,
Particularly by my peculiarity of winding words with such prose.
Avail to the thesauri, and lexically thy dexterity shall enhance,
And uncover the meaning within this poem if you chance.
If ye choose to not peruse the prose within this poesy parlance,
A song I'll sing, a portrait I'll paint, or perhaps a jig I'll gaily dance.
Hither reader! Why not absolve thyself from an abstrusely crafted code?
For I warn that tedium and pomp onomasticon from thus unload.
If ye choose to peruse the prose within my cryptic poem,
Mind my method of muddling words to enclose what you must open.
Acquiesce a cumpulsory capacity for cryptology,
To bring from beneath what brews within this jambalaya of symbology.
First you must learn what it means for words to be encrypted,
A simple use of the alphabet on which the letters in words are shifted.
Give each letter from A to Z a number; one to twenty-six:
A mathematical use of Roman numeral, an ancient coding trick.
Now write a sentence, plain words: plaintext,
Try it now to learn what's next.
The letter within a name, such as Aileen,
Read: one, nine, twelve, five, five, fourteen.
Pick a word: a key you use to change,
The name Aileen to something strange.
Now you must learn what it means for words to be decrypted,
An ambitious mode to decode a code that an encryption has restricted.
Gaia had deemed insects as king of beasts
After the last humans departed in spaceship 'Stephen Hawkings'.
'Planet Water' was in ruins, polluted, wrecked by
Runaway climate change and raging storms.
Ants has arisen as king and insect rulers
With superior organisation and pervasive presence
They evolved and grew as big as cattle
Subduing all other animals and beasts.
Yet, the terror of the Tyrannosaurus Mantis
Made all beasts tremble, when the quivering
Shadows of looming praying mantis spread over ground
Like that of Tyrannosaurus rex once terrorized past life.
Triangular head with huge bulging eyes, and vicious jaws
Could swivel around all angles, front, side and behind,
So nothing could escape its silent pervasion,
As it pranced, poised, stalked and postured on ground and in trees.
Huge forelegs, covered in spines, held coiled-up like arms in position of prayer,
Showed no mercy when they sprung out and grabbed innocent prey
Dragging bodies back, twitching and writhing in recoiled spiny forearms
To be munched alive in vicious sharp jaws, mounted acutely on triangular head.
Tyrannosaurus Mantis evolved with the ants to beasts as big as rhinos.
The ants as rulers, tried various ways to control them, kill them off for good.
But so far, no pathway to extinction for praying mantis had been found,
As some ancient god, mantis worshiped in prayer, seemed to protect them.
Gannets
I stood on the crag on a clear summer’s day,
And looked down to watch the surf breaking the scree,
When I heard the clamour of birds out in the bay,
And looked up to see a company of gannets soaring.
Silhouetted in the sky with their wings spread wide,
They flashed with finesse in and out of my sight.
These ‘Queens of the Sea’ I saw in the crowded heavens,
Expressing freedom with impressive manoeuvring.
Then, a serenity when they postured within my ken,
And plunged into the deep at alarming speeds.
With impeccable timing, avoiding collisions,
They broke the ocean's surface to pursue the sardines;
While others floated on the water, bobbing up and down,
Undaunted by the torpedo divers raining from above.
As captives of the sea’s grasp, they accepted their outcome,
And waited for a wind under-wing to help lift them airborne.
Then, with exhilarated anticipation, I cringed,
To see gannets running atop the waves, flapping their wings.
And when in the tempest I seek my mind’s eye passport
To indulge in the vista, I witnessed from the crag.
Into the loom of death’s murky depths, I seek comfort
With floating birds that render fate awaiting escape.
Then, I sing praises, though life has its shortcomings,
And lie back satisfied to watch gannets soaring.
Once when I was just a kid,
My mom thought 'twould be nice,
If I'd invite some friends to play,
And we could swing outside.
I had a swing set in the yard,
Where I would play for hours.
My daddy built it just for me,
Away from Mommy's flowers.
It stood beneath a large Oak tree,
And even had a sand box.
We played and swung and had a ball,
Got sand in clothes and socks.
Our neighbors had a big red dog,
A loyal, patient friend.
Prince often came to play with us.
He wagged his tail and grinned.
Another dog came on the scene,
And Prince was not amused.
They postured and they sniffed each other.
A dog fight soon ensued.
We screamed and cried and climbed the set,
As Prince and Dog fought on.
Smokey heard our frantic cries,
And raced onto the lawn.
Prince was huge with big white teeth,
And muscles, big and stocky;
But Smokey feared him not and leaped,
And rode him like a jockey.
Smokey sank his claws in deep,
With teeth he grabbed his neck.
The big dog took off down the street,
With Smokey firmly set,
Upon his back, he rode him well,
They soon were out of sight.
We worried that he might get hurt,
In yet another fight;
But he came strolling home real soon,
The hero of the day.
"Don't worry kids', he seemed to say,
'He won't be back today."