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.
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
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.
First Date
Babe,
I would shoot cupids arrow in your bulls-eye
He says with rally caps in his eyes
... you what?
Her eyes blink
Her breathing stops
The first date emitting a moan
For the better or worse, a passerby muses
A coy laugh snaking from his lips
She shows her teeth
Balls her fist
Gives the passerby a chop in the ribs
And then the pond of ducks quaked and sky
Drinks atop the bar scatter
Like feathers thrown in the air
Patrons then move closer to their campfire
This is good, one says
Reminds me of how I baited my wife
Or is that banged?
A cackle a laughs follow
Throw another log on the fire, miss
Please
She looked over and just blinked
Men
connie pachecho
7/20/17
A thought bubble arose, from an unslept head.
“I'll give you a single white rose, I’ve grown.”
It sounded sweet, simple, and wonderfully romantic—
Before I proposed the notion, to my rubble-despoiled garden.
Thus began my toil and trouble, kerfuffle and struggle.
I pulled out weeds, dug through mud, mulch, muck and mysteries.
The wheelbarrow wobbled; wandered off with the watering can.
Even the worms wiggled worried, wrinkled looks about my methods.
In the hole, I planted a single white-budded rose, bare-rooted.
I covered it with soil, sweetly sour with well-rotted cow manure.
The rose grew despite my heavy-handed, brown-thumb pokes and prods.
White buds burst, then browned off, blighted around their rims.
Tiny thrips and aphids threw tantrum bombs inside petal towers.
I peered, puffed, and huffed, and quite frankly— panicked!
Perfection proved particularly picky, for a plain white rose.
At last, one lovely morn, a lovely white rose, arose to greet me.
Among the blighted, shriveled blooms, it beamed like moonlight.
I clipped it carefully, cradling its cool, cream precious bloom.
Surely, such devotion, deserved delighted, dazzling applause!
I presented it proudly, practicing my grandest ever garden bow.
“To give to thee, this single white rose I’ve grown.”
She smiled softly, accepting my precious treasure trove rose.
Then she paused, as though, searching for, still kinder words.
“What a lovely thought,” she said, looking blissful at me.
“Sorry, but I really wanted a bunch of red ones instead!”
Behind us, the white rose quivered, quaked and chuckled!
As my thought bubble burst above the compost. - Pop! Bang! Purr!.
I saw two clashing titans,
Ten miles above the green;
Their massive bodies twisted,
In battle over Spring
The beast shown black as sackcloth,
The hero – white as snow;
They battled one another
With brutal, mythic blows:
Two terrifying creatures;
They quaked and thundered loud,
Both vying to be victor
On mountain tops of cloud
Behemoths bearing weapons
That blazoned fiery white;
They wrought colossal chaos
Across the calm of night
Until the darkened monster,
Amid the epic row,
Bore down upon the other
And struck a fatal blow
As echoed booms of thunder
Traversed the mount of death,
The weary whitened hero
Then drew his final breath
T’was then that storm did conquer
The innocence of Spring,
And took her mountain dwelling
From which she used to sing.
645.
Meditation on the 5th Sorrowful Mystery:
The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ
Upon reaching Golgotha, they crucified Jesus
(And above His head was a label, “King of the Jews”)
Alongwith Him, two robbers were also crucified
(One on His right side & one on His left side)
This is the 5th Sorrowful Mystery – The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ
One of the robbers mocked Jesus & told Him to set them loose
(There were also people passing by who continued to insult the nailed Jesus)
Soon before Jesus died, the sky was covered with darkness
(And when Jesus died, the earth quaked & the people there went home with regretfulness)
The fruit of this mystery – Perseverance
Oh God who had Thy Son be nailed on the cross
(For the salvation of mankind the greatest cause)
The God whose passion & death is the greatest sacrifice
(For the salvation of mankind an offering suffice)
As “The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ” had shown “Perseverance”
Lord God, like in “The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ”, we have to persevere
(In all our trials & sufferings until the end comes near)
Like Jesus Christ who persevered until His holy death
(We holdfast to the Lord our God until our final breath)
Praise God! We realized “Perseverance” through the 5th Sorrowful Mystery.
-04/19/2019 (Good Friday)
*Meditations on the Mysteries of the Holy Rosary
He quaked and recoiled
At the thing he beheld
Unwilling to sing, he uttered
...sound, forbidden
Why did he believe all was beauty
And power would come to him
....the one creating
He was the CREATOR
Wasn't it obvious
She...she's a she
Can't even carry a vibration
Much less a man of great status
Plain, not an ounce of attraction
To yield men at her feet
I, me, I will NOT sing
I will SPEAK
STONE, the very stone unsung
Became his casing
As greasy fibers pierced the ground
Reaching out to his creation
Building the war to end all rebellion
against LOVE
Written by Trudy Schrader on 12-10-2022
Once upon a time
In the distant past
There was a country
Built by the sweat of her adopted children
And painstakingly through thick and thin
Became God’s own country
The light of the world
Whenever she spoke, the international community stood still
Enemy countries quaked and trembled
While allies scampered to mollify
The police officer of the world
Once upon a time
His Excellency epitomized leadership in times of global emergency
Today that is no more
Glory has departed from God’s own country
She has become a laughing stock in the comity of nations
A vicious and unscrupulous dictatorship is on the prowl
A clown in the mold of Donquizote is holding sway
Executive mendacity has become the order of the day
Don't cry to me America
Rescue your country from American dream gone awry!
Where is power in our day?
so often promised but fails
but once real power on display
on Calvary's cross, one was nailed
Jesus Christ, the son of God
there, He displayed real power
held there by our awful sin
dying in our place in that hour
At Calvary's cross, power on display
where our sins laid on Him
Jesus bore sins awful weight
so we for heaven could enter in
This is the power of the cross
our names written in His sacrifice
every sinful thought and evil deed
Jesus took it all, what a price!
Calvary's ground quaked by this power
its maker bowed to God's perfect will
dying our death so we will live
this thought stops us to be still
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