Long Proclaims Poems
Long Proclaims Poems. Below are the most popular long Proclaims by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Proclaims poems by poem length and keyword.
Plow horse neighing with the bending of clay
,, humble hands silently giving thanks to the rain.
Petals flashing, bumble-flyers kneading nests
till death do they part or when fate slashes the breast.
School 79 unchained this child from the grind
as an ice cream truck jingled with sundial time.
Bronzed dreams caressing an iced tea beach
sandcastle paying alms to the heart of a breeze.
Seagull screaming above the bluebonnet seas.
Sailboats playing tag with a ribbon of cloud
salt spray licking away at the soul of the bow
maple leaves flashing as the sunflower bows.
Fall arrives on the tip of a buckeye knife
an icy breeze slickens the path of a kite.
The hollows are glazed in orange and black
dreams are placed in mason jar caskets.
The artisan sprinkles the forest with gems
death hangs so untamed and magnificent.
A snowflake pauses in the dream of an evergreen
indigo songs descend into the fog rather hauntingly.
Winter freezes the trees to their bitter mint roots
a cardinal bleeds into harmony, always on cue.
Dear brother, could this be the scented spirit of you?
The fifth season proclaims no beginning nor ending
a worthy soul's fate is a return to the heavens.
Renewable Radiance
Streams of clearest light,
Born of a star,
Splash across flaxen maize,
Beckoning tall sunflowers to follow
With their skyward gaze
Dashing through newborn dewdrops
Creating playful shadows
In the bouncing,
dappling,
flashing,
flowing
Golden glow of brilliance in bronze
Making freckles on upturned noses
Or fiery heat on skin neglected
Now captivated by smooth glass faces
In cycles of sunrise and sunset
To find a place in close community
Coming home to rest on rooftops
Turning midnight into morning
Bits of sunspots
Energizing evening
Seeking opportunities
To turn on street lights
Heat a winter night,
Light up empty highway signs
Kitchen lamps in gathering spaces,
Where scents of stews
Float up from simmering pots
Sitting atop daystar fire,
To cool the breath of afternoons
Turning summer heat around in circles
Then ever giving birth to moonlight
Illuminating a garden path
Or candles
Twinkling
In the trees at midnight
Reaching out,
Waiting - standing at attention -
Begging to be used,
But not used up,
Gladly emptied out
Never tiring,
Never holding back
In jealousy,
No matter what the calendar proclaims
Or season promises,
Collected radiance renewable
Renewed
Generating energy
In spinning allegros
Freely given,
Freely breathing,
Inexhaustible,
Joyful
Gift and giver.
To all who wonder to all of you
An urban myth, or is it true?
A story that happens after dark
A story set in a city park
An escaped deranged one-arm man
Who wears a hook in lieu a hand
Has gotten free the radio blares
He’s homicidal it declares
Two young teens lost in love
Practicing their craft then a shove
Was it the wind moving the car
Was it the maniac with the metal spar
They both jumped up to attention
He’s going out is his intention
Oh! be careful she did rave
No apprehension he was brave
Another scrape upon the doors
Her fear mounts, terror soars
I’m going out he again proclaims
She panics now, No! she exclaims
Before she knew it the handle scrapes
out the door the lover traipse
he looks around to her dismay
he jumps back in and wants to play
she’s too upset I want to leave
disgusted stomps the gas one big heave
as they roar out she takes a look
and on the handle a bloody hook
So if you’re out on a darkened night
Be careful make sure to do things right
It might be true it might be fable
But beware the hook if you are able
Does wisdom not call meanwhile?
Does discernment not lift up her voice?
On the hilltop on the road,
On the crossways she takes her stand;
Beside the gates of the city,
At the approaches to the gates she cries aloud,
O men! I am calling to you;
My cry goes out to the sons of men;
You ignorant ones! Study discretion
And you fools, come to your senses!
Listen! I have serious things to tell you,
Rom my lips come honest words
My mouth proclaims the truth
Wickedness is hateful to my lips.
All the words I say are right
Nothing wasted in them, nothing false
All straightforward to whom who understands
Honest to those who knows what knowledge means.
Accept my discipline rather than silver
Knowledge in preference to pure gold.
For wisdom is more precious than pearls,
And nothing else is so worthy of desire.
05092015
An old Chinese woman
Stands in a field
On the lunatic edge of town
Where drinkers gather to drink
And woman of ill repute
Play their games
With the passing drunks
Men ready for a night of passion
She is holding a tea pot
And proclaims
That the pot contains
A genie
That will grant the new owner
Three wishes
She had to sell the pot
Because her wishes came true
And she smiles
And laughs insanely
The laughter dies
And she implores people
To buy her tea pot
And put her out of misery
Just buy my pot
And your dreams will come true
Be careful dear thought
Remember all magic
Comes with a price
A terrible price
Something in the air.
People will see what they want to see
And blame who they want to blame
I don't want to see the reflection of me
To face the mirror of my own shame
The one who smelt it dealt it
Is a jibe we learned in our youth
The one who denies it supplies it
Looking back we see it's the truth
It's easier to point the finger
To divert attention elsewhere
And if the smell should linger
Just refuse to breathe your own air
Something stinks around here he proclaims
Take a breath, did you get a good whiff?
But only it seems around you!
That confirms it then he says to himself
Why is it you're always last to know
When your breath gives off a bad smell
With your nose located an inch from your mouth
You should be the first to tell
But it's always another who points it out
Hey, brother, I've a mint for you!
No thanks, I just ate you quickly reply
But he insists,'Go ahead take two!'
We need to be tactful, and never be mean
But it needs to be pointed out
The importance for all in oral hygiene
Can never be left to doubt
So next time someone offers you a mint
Take a moment and ask yourself why
Is he kindly trying to give you a hint
For the cause of that tear in his eye?
If we all could focus on the rafter in our own
And not that straw in another's
We wouldn't have to find ourselves all alone
Shut off from those we called brothers
The kisses of a hater are to be despised
But the wounds of a lover invited
So when offered a mint don't be surprised
He's helping your wrongs to be righted
If only you could close up that space
Given more thought to the words that you chose
The source of the problem in many a case
Is right there under your nose
sun sets early in november
while streetlights pepper busy sidewalks
and chilly winds hurl through the streets
bundled up, head on we face the gale
always keen for coffeehouse intermissions
where mugs and napkins are exchanged for money
a warm familiar welcome as we come in from the cold
the atmosphere relaxing, retro music that's enticing
a table for secluded refuge in a corner incognito
baristas giving us the eye offering to impress
with their skills: a fancy this, a fancy that
poised to whip up your heart’s desire
steaming milk for frothy lather
while the aroma of grinding coffee fills the air
and feels as soothing as a sweet caress
here time stands still on one side of the counter
the only one on speed is our pleasant
highly caffeinated talented barista
modern art hung on bare walls
yes, time stands quaintly still here
and this is where i seek my haven
where i go to hide, to read, to write
to dust the sinews of my soul
to sit where words will not aggress me
exquisite swirls of foaming cream atop
patterned with fleeting symmetry
lips approach and deface the perfection
the illusion forever shattered
time is afterall finite
as proclaims my empty cup
i linger longer in no hurry to leave
stretching this mini getaway
'relaxing' lounging and destressing
recharging my depleted batteries
soaking in the void of words
focus on what stirs below
absorbing energy in the silence
in the not speaking
in the not listening
behind the scenes reality awaits
the pause button is now released
AP: 3rd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
On fields where shadows of old battles lie,
We find no lasting peace, but watch it die.
The broken promises, a hollow sound,
As ancient rights are buried in the ground.
With polished words and flags of gentle hue,
The world proclaims what it’s resolved to do,
While buried deep beneath the legal text,
The human spirit suffers and is vexed.
The children ask their questions like a prayer,
For freedom’s breath and for a world to share.
But gilded cages and an iron fist
Maintain the order, and the rights are missed.
For peace is not the absence of a storm,
But justice’s presence in a truer form.
Not silence bought with fear and grim despair,
But liberty that fills the common air.
So let the verse, with fragile, measured rhyme,
Recall the cost throughout the march of time.
That peace, to stand, must rise from human worth,
And claim, for all, their birthright on this Earth.
Not with the sword, but with a voice unbound,
Until the equal, righteous truths are found.
We heavily consider the value of existence,
For a quest of bias, a path of prole resistance,
Assess our inner selves clearly and briefly,
Our goals have gotten us afar deeply.
Skepticism conveys the root of all hatred,
If there is vital strife, tempers are shattered,
Reason and fact provide the basis of love,
They've ne'er started, and ne'er seen above.
When deep chaos is no longer obnoxious,
The greater the rise, the greater the noxious,
The idea of lust and its quest is not at odds,
This proclaims the value of hatred wads.
Any attempt to rile results is bound to fail,
Struggling for the forlorn while trapped in hell,
Intent on receiving but unwilling to supply,
I don't yearn to live since I'm daunted to die.
Expecting the best while having little,
I'm anxious to quit, but I will never belittle,
Trying to catch up after falling behind,
Aiming toward a goal with a dreamy mind.
I concocted a paradox in my imagination,
It is a battle that I must wage in isolation,
I hit a sequel within me to an auld skirmish,
Hidden in the depths that my thoughts furnish.
What remains inside is only pain and humor,
The unique items left are tears and rumors,
The unmistakable variable is the solace,
Ne'er has my dilemma felt so full of promise.
Your lack of shadows haunts you from behind,
My profound foul spirit, enlightened my mind.
Written: August 17, 2022
Inner Conflict Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
I have a lot of questions
questions
questions
he repeats
slowly creaking
and dancing
on our screened porch
peaking swing.
Radiant
in fiery ginger godliness,
mind centering omnipotence
He is so far ahead
of answers,
I feel embarrassed
to share them.
But, in not sharing
I become lost in caring
what he might think of me,
feel about we
without sufficient daring.
He swings **** retentive
in a whole new light
of previously unrepresented delight.
Ah! that could not be my question.
A hypothesis, perhaps
meriting further research;
new questings.
It feels important to me
this questing
for high and deep best male alert
dessert thick
and creamy,
dreamy wave of carnal delight,
absence of fright
or fight
in last and long dark nights
on seas of swings
just f.....g right.
I want to squeeze
these pulsing questings
out of this maleness
female mess
so quickly
complexly asked
and chaotically given
Shriven
of clothes
but not masquerades
of closet questions
questing answers
not yet hard
and widely embraced
formed
invited graced gay notions
Of motions
and emotions
just right
and left
bilaterally in-between
bicameral lusts
and bisensual leisure
to swing all theories continuous
polypathic
polyphonic
polyvagal
polymetric
polyamorous ways
Of in
and out
and rebellious shout
for Earth's most carnal freedom
of re-connecting
polycultural con-scientific re-ligioning
questions about straight and narrow
meets wide and deep
Why 1
slides so sexily
through 0
shape-shifting chakras
of natural
spiritual co-empathic pole
and holistic energy
like nuts
round bolts
and male
inside female bipolarities.
So many questions,
he gloriously proclaims
in majestic awe
meets lusty wonder
As his bi-gendered feet
gently invite
our graced swing
to sweep and seep defeat
with co-passioned
revolving Earth
back to Spring
and forth to Fall
One late summer morning
on our screened porch
secret secreting swing.