Long Quaked Poems
Long Quaked Poems. Below are the most popular long Quaked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quaked poems by poem length and keyword.
Author's Note: These verses are wrought for a poetess-painter, a fellow poet whose sorrow kindled their first ember; may this little flame, in time, find its way unto her.
—A Quatrain Beneath Eternity—
Upon one leaf, where gravity dreamed slow,
a rain-born orb did tremble under heaven;
her argent quiver made the star-fires flow,
and dawn stood hushed beneath the empyrean;
an ant climbed forth from bark's primeval shrine,
then paused before her—dark against divine.
He drew towards her as the firmament
bent its vast curvature about her sphere;
as though some adamantine gravitation sent
a wandering world where worlds should disappear;
he touched her light—and through his six limbs ran
a shudder older than the breath of man.
He deemed her painter, fashioned out of rain,
with leaf for canvas, sunlight for her dye;
she bore the green world's secret in her vein,
and whole lost heavens trembled in her eye;
their minute orbits crossed beneath the tree—
two infinitudes made briefly one decree.
Then he ascended towards the ancient bough,
she followed that inexorable green descent;
no wound accused the other of the why,
nor did their parting bear resentment;
and time, beyond the jurisdiction of years,
let Earth spend eleven seasons unawares.
He came again. The old light knew his tread;
she had not ceased her pilgrimage through green;
no reckoning rose between the living and dead,
nor any blade of old remembrance keen;
one quill returned above the waiting page—
four living lines outshone an earthly age.
Then came the storm. The leaf became a sea;
the firmament was riven from its throne;
the wind took him beyond all astronomy,
past every star by which the lost are known;
she quaked, and all her little heavens broke—
yet waited for the word he never spoke.
Perhaps he bore one universe to tell;
perhaps her own lay folded in the deep;
perhaps the storm extinguished one farewell
before its syllables had learned to sleep;
she moves still downward through the shaken green—
and somewhere, the fifth line remains unseen.
Things were quiet, relaxed and calm,
Things were rosy and fine,
Nothing was going to turn it around,
Nothing from out or inside,
And then, from nowhere, her upper lip quaked,
She hid a small grin out of view,
And her eyes softly scanned those all around,
Her eyes both hid what she knew,
And she could see the moment of their discontent,
A fidget in a seat here and there,
Her eyes could see the library of people,
Shifting around on their chairs,
And one by one, like a house built of cards,
She saw the smiles all sink like a ship,
Because it was she, with her gluteal guitar,
Who let a silent, most violent one, rip.
I WILL or WILL I??
It was me who was there, when they laid you bare
On your Mother’s cheek
I saw her weep, her bosom seep
As they spirited you away
while her teats suppurate
And her heart quaked
I witnessed the distress, when they opened Your chest
And striped your back, once they saw that you lacked
Fear, Dread and Fright
And they tried to extinguish your light, diminish your Might
Tried to slash your eyes, and halve down your size
Out of despise-ing you
Thereby despise-ing
Their-Selves
I had a front row seat
Watched Her labor to defeat,
Stamp and Trample
The very heart of you
Because the sheer force of you
And very thought of you
Was an affront to her
And your Heart’s existence
Was her inconsistence
And your Subsistence
It was Me beseen
who cleansed your feet in the stream
who unbound your wrists, unfurled your fists
re-sheathed your dagger
uprighted your stagger
settled your fever
bewitched your foes
scatter the crows
Nourished your dreams
reStitched your seams
Cheered you in Earnest
Soothed your furnace
And when the Masses Demand
Who will bear the Pain of this Man
I shall raise my hand
and say
“I WILL” [I, Magdalene]
His day had come, and so He went and prayed.
The woes of all mankind upon him weighed.
His brethren slept; He knew what would befall.
His enemies conspired and did not stall.
A midnight kiss, and He would stand betrayed.
First seized, reviled, then stripped and flayed;
A scarlet robe on broken flesh then laid,
He bore the brutal cross and drank the gall.
His day had come.
A final breath. . . . the sacrifice was made.
The land then quaked. God’s sorrow was displayed.
The Son in linen. . . . on the earth a pall.
But in the sepulcher, His final call –
To conquer death! Man need not be afraid.
His day had come!
Submitted 3/12/23
for the Easter Poetry Contest of Regina McIntosh
We pack our bags
off to Del Rio
my beautiful bride
to be
I spoke love
as our reason for
co-habitation
of me me
she spoke stability
we wished to marry
for what ever reason
thats why I call her
my bride to be
when the earth
start moving
I grabbed the
Woman while
we're dancing
the earth beneath our
feets quaked away
Ya'll know that
one about Del-Rio
things my bride to be
will probably say
some marry for hoochie
coot chi
some many to combine there
wealth
some marry to make people
wonder about how they did it
some marry to keep there
covenant to there self
Seems I brag about
this woman I wish to
marry
aint shamed to say
I love her so
that we are here
in Dell-Rio
my bride to be
She loves me so
Puedo lamer tu cono
frota ,i cabeza
cuando te corres
que diensen que soy
el mejor amantue
grita mi nombre
cuando te corres
The sky edged at the hazy horizon, a solemn slate,
where the raucous cloud clumps on wings of storm ride.
For the sun to set for the dreary night they don’t wait,
unleashed, in rampant rage they well up and glide.
The opaque sky is shaken and shattered asunder,
deluge of moaning drops descends in molten torrent.
The endless emptiness quaked by the tearing thunder,
burns in forked flashes in the fraction of time transient.
The fleeting lightning designs cold lattice of azure fire,
lazuli light leaves the somber sound behind,
striking me with deafening echo in the rattling air,
that blazes for an instant making me almost blind.
The sound of falling sky sinks in the quietude of my core,
as the sapphire light shimmers in the serene essence,
I view the lilac lining of dismal cloud I haven’t seen before,
my soul immerses in the bay of bliss with flow of silence.
_____________
May 2, 2023
Contest : Up To 20 Lines
Sponsored by : Sotto Poet
The Aspen quaked in mild calm.
A stream nearby sent riffled song.
This trail less trod now almost gone.
‘Twas barren once now grown quite long.
Around a bend and down a steep
therein the brush from somewhere deep
here mixed with woodland chirps and cheeps
slid sounds and sobs of sorrows weeps.
Out there somewhere in higher grass
beyond the tangled thorn tree sash
just past a swamp of slimy mash
a sorrowed soul seems has been cast.
A dragonfly in silence soars.
Below the flies held tight to beasts manure.
Through brush and briar where none before.
Slogging sludge-of-swamp to reach the shore.
Stopped at edge of stench thus endured.
Much closer now to sobs of sorrows lure.
On rotting log a mossy clump.
The spider gone in one quick jump.
A deer takes run with heavy thump
startling me too cause me slump.
Still not in sight – here not yet found,
‘top slippery rock I look around
o’re growth below that shows no ground.
When there – the source of sorrows sound.
Hidden mid some thick green fern.
With face in hands as if from burn.
His arms to knees as if to learn.
He did not look nor did he turn.
A lad of more-or-less of ten plus three
there sobbing softly I could see.
What sort of problem could it be?
Without words or look – ‘twas known to me.
A lie was told to cause unfold his sorrows pain.
Lies ‘seldom’ hold or cause of this contained.
More often Truth holds pain ordained.
Like most in world - I cared ‘not’ remain.
I turned around – I left him there
as few would do – else ‘lie’ of care.
Roads worn bare by lies are everywhere.
Trails of Truth – they wreak despair.
Now oft I wonder -- how did he fare.
Sorrows Lure
by: Shadow Seeker 2016 Copyright
The voice of God is very powerful.
He spoke creation into existence.
When He spoke at Sinai, the mount trembled,
the earth quaked, and the people shook with fear.
When God speaks, His voice causes a tumult.
The firmament shakes, and the rain descends.
The voice of God sends lightning with the rain,
and sends forth the storm from its storehouse.
The voice of God is like a roaring sea.
It causes the hearts of humans to melt.
At the sound of God’s voice, great armies flee,
the mightiest of men fall on their knees.
The voice of the Lord is like a trumpet.
When God’s voice sounds at His second coming,
the righteous dead rise out of their graves,
and welcome their Savior with a loud shout.
The voice of God is sometimes soft and still,
wooing the heart of man to turn to Him.
Listen to God’s voice, do now turn away.
If you do, an awful price you will pay.
God speaks to us through His Holy Spirit
who inspired the writers of scripture.
So, when we read the words from the Bible,
we are really hearing the voice of God.
I heard my tongue scream
YES!!!! YES!!!!! OH GAWD YES!!
The fork trembled
The knife hesitated
The maple syrup
Dripping lips quaked.
Cage free egg yolks
Filled the craters
Of the unexplored waffle terrain
Soft, plump cheeked strawberries
Crept closer to the golden shore
Blushing as the bacon sizzled at them
A knife parted the sea of syrup
Allowing it to mingle
To taunt, tempt and torture
The taste buds
Of a once insatiable beast
The last vestige
Of this gustatory grandeur
The hint of maple
Caressing my moustache
Tormenting a tortured tongue
Arousing a need to
Gently lick
That prickly collector
Of memories
In search of savory crumbs
Written by Gail R DeBole
on July 19, 2021
Updated September 4, 2021
A baby who lived on a farm
Would coo and gurgle with charm.
She completely amazed
Her family each day
With all of her sweet, lovely sounds.
She would hear chickens, cows, and sheep
As she fell into a very sound sleep.
Then she would awake
To the noise roosters make
And would listen to chicks as they peeped.
She heard many oinks, moos, and neighs.
The animals talked lots each day.
Chickens cluck-cluck-clucked.
She heard quacks from each duck.
The animal sounds never waned.
When she made her talking debut.
Her parents didn’t know what to do.
You might think it absurd
As to what her parents heard -
She sang out a melodious moo!
Next was a loud cluck-cluck-cluck!
Then she skillfully quaked like a duck!
She then gave a neigh
As she giggled and played.
Her parents were completely awe-struck.
She saved her best vocals for last.
Giving her parents a proud vocal blast.
She called her father “Papa”
And her mother “Mama”
And that was her first baby rap.