Long Quatern Poems
Long Quatern Poems. Below are the most popular long Quatern by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quatern poems by poem length and keyword.
And then I opened that door
Oh how sweet was the sight that came to my eyes
My feet, my lungs, my whole body felt so sore
My house, my room, my couch, why it all seemed to be paradise!
Yes, see you, I have done a big blunder
I came out of it, thankfully
All I ever wanted to do was to be a cool journeyer
One who enjoyed long walks in the country
That day, I woke up at five, left home at six
Walked to the hills with the help of sticks
Watched the sunrise
Being, by such beauty, all mesmerized!
I sat up on the hill
I sat up and let my heart be still
I closed my eyes, and smiled
Why, thought I, life's miseries are sometimes worthwhile!
I chose to sit for a while
The scene unveiled itself to me in great style
How beautiful seemed to be grass wet with dew
Why, now, though still young, I did feel like I have lived through!
I lost track of time, I sat there for I don't know how long
At last, I did choose to get back home
That was when the rain started pelting; I knew I had to keep strong
I knew I had to, if I wanted to get back home, where it's safe and warm!
I climbed down the hill in haste, hoping lightning would not strike my body
I slipped, fell in the mud, got back up on my feet and tried to be steady
I walked on, I was drenched, I could not see my way
I really thought, my soul, on the hill on that day, would stay!
I walked on, with the sound of thunder roaring over my head
I prayed to be kept alive, in such a way, I did not want to be dead
I knew not when I reached some road
Some road with an unknown destination as its lead!
I looked left and right
Knowing not which way would lead me home safe
I was all moved with fright
For the worst did I brace
That was when a weird looking truck came towards me
The driver saw me and stopped, feeling for me, some pity
I'm lost, I said, can you help me reach home
Sure, he said, sure, get in I'll get you home!
All the way, he talked, he laughed, he joked
Still I was in fright
When I saw my neighborhood at last, from my daze I woke
Thanked the man heartily and rushed to my home with, in my heart, a jolt!
And when I opened that door
Oh you know not how it left me, all that was sore
I survived the worst of what I chose to do
Now, I did learn that it is not good at all, to overdo!
18 June 2015
Proliferation the wonder of it all
from a tiny seed becomes a tree tall
pollen from stamen floats on winds call
DNA puzzles do many enthrall
Written instruction for what it becomes
answers to life’s perplexing problems
a manual so tiny naked eye cannot see
engineering so fine progresses what is to be
Stored information that’s dynamic in action
investigation that understands just a fraction
plants that convert light into sugar
directions malfunction converted to injure
So much of language we don’t understand
and deny designer on length of it’s strand
like God we conceive with plans and action
to science becomes a single mans passion
We draw and layout a similar pattern
imitation configured by nature so learn
skill of arrangement and execution
who would replace design with evolution
We ourselves imitate all creation
by things produced in every nation
like God we delight to work something new
to admit being like God are those of us few
Why do so many have difficult time
that like our Father have creative mind
able to produce from imaginative skill
beauty and pleasure which in our souls thrill
Everything speaks of brilliant design
it’s language to the specifics define
communication of action individual speech
in every molecule order does teach
Expressions of Love in all that’s created
conditions within the things investigated
intelligence for foolishness many have traded
and thirst for learning becomes castigated
We comprehend not the speech of our tongue
or the effects upon whom it belong
direction of growth all order is spoken
connection with Father has become broken
Genetics embody progression of growth
contains language and communication both
from within does come outward advance
to intricate to have arrived by chance
In all of nature instruction is written
the Bible a book of directions submission
to understand Love and how we should live
and what is hidden within his missive
Jehovah to earth sent his only begotten
with his sacrifice might our hearts soften
so we might have our freedom of speech
to understand the heights that we may reach
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC?
On my way towards the castle made of gold and silver
I saw something which made my stride falter
It was the sight of a child
Sweet, innocent and wild
She was like an angel
So beautiful, with the spark of a most precious jewel
Oblivious to everything around her
She danced, and danced, and danced to her own tempo!
Stopped I in my stride,
Wondering at the cause of this masquerade
A masquerade yes, for the child danced while no music was heard
The child danced and sang aloud
Was it part of a show, maybe a circus show
I wondered, how would she end, where would she go?
I stopped, right on my way, sat under the shade of a tree
And watched, her, this child, dancing to the tunes of mystery
The child cared not about me
She danced and danced for the sake of being free
She danced till the moon showed itself
She danced all night till dawn showed itself
Then, she stopped, looked at the skies and breathed out heavily
She was tired, but, she would start again, she said so humbly
She needed some rest
And that was when she came to sit next to me
Why do you dance that much I asked her
What is there to do in this world, sick with fever
She told me
While looking at me pointedly
People just run after their needs, satisfying their greed
People run after life at fast speed
Caring not to appease their soul
Why, life here in this world, does be so dull
If death does be the end of it all
Why, why should we care to run after castles of gold
Take the time, like me, to dance and glorify the skies
So mysterious, they do be there where the beginning of it all lies
Listen, she said, listen to the bells of angels
Listen to the call of Heaven
Listen, pray do listen
And dance, for they be the only true music, in this world, so fallen
Listening to that child,
I felt my stride getting all mild
I let go of my chase
And became, like her, a spirit living up to the rhythms emanating from space!
I dance whenever I hear the music
That one, being called as mystic
I dance and care not about anybody's opinion
For, they are all blinded by the false show of this world's oblivion!
30 Sept 2015
I held my arms out to her.
Waiting for her to hug me.
I miss you today. I whisper.
Such a moment of jubilee.
I fair need to be on the charm of my dove.
She's in my heart forever.
who can spy Springs flow pure love
She felt the warmth stream over.
The water flows by the scent of my flowers.
How the body flows under jovial heaven?
She reveres the shadow cower.
And carries a little of the old leaven.
The window blasts the spring breeze.
The Parrot soaks my glass of bliss.
The sip of divine grace appeases.
She is upbeat to know my kiss.
I did not realize the beginning.
But agreed the plan was shrewd.
In the end, I ran out of paper, querying.
That’s a sound chain of deeds.
I have no place in any scenario.
Why should we live in vain?
Who is impressed that the big profit is our embryo?
Who persuaded them that you're trusty, not a strain.
Who claims women’s vision there's no delight in labor.
This vicious principle was extended still further.
I feel that I can't swim; in the sea of flavor.
May the breeze prank with all the storms of fervor.
Soothe the lips of the roses.
Pacify the voice and bright guitar melodies
With the charm of nectar doses.
She said I was from winds, in the books of parodies.
Not the background bust, all lines of affection.
You crush me toward the edges of the stage.
I remain in the strides of attention.
I alter my words to see your sage.
The contrast between realizing how to play words
A dream weaved dramatic content for me.
You are a princess, in my words.
I cruise with your eyes; that’s the key.
You are my novice
You are my present and my past.
You lift my goodness.
My sonnet is your name hast.
Your energy will stay in my books.
No cease to worry yet.
Hide the blood shadows from your cheeks
The lines had a chance to thrust.
Do not be shy.
Do not be shy.
~Harridan in a Housecoat~
Four small children sent for care as their mother was taken so ill
No father could they reach for them so they were sent off at someone’s will
In the night taken from their beds, no word spoken, hearts full of dread
Taken to a town far away and not knowing what lay ahead.
A huge housecoat descended down like a crow devouring road kill
At the side stood a henchman, pointed nose, dark hair, and vengeful
Warning words left in theirs ears "be good or else there will be trouble"
“No one wants you now you know, not your parents” she burst that bubble.
The housecoat and the henchman dealt out their ghastly deeds
To three of the children she vented her spleen, her willing helper dealt her needs
The fourth child the baby, she showered with kisses and good food to eat
She bought her clothes and dressed her well, and spoke to her words so sweet.
The three all under the age of six did dread each and every night
When scrubbed with scrubbing brushes, their skin looking red raw and tight.
She had to get the scum off them because they were now in care
It was obvious that no one loved them, that’s why they were there.
Frightened and timid were the three, but the youngest was well looked after
Jealousy did form in the minds of the three - it robbed them of their laughter
The harridan in the housecoat with her willing henchman
Thought up little tortures finding the Achilles’ heels in each child one by one.
The housecoat and the henchman were in for big surprise
When the father sent for the children, she couldn’t believe her eyes
Bribery she tried on the siblings so the children would never tell
But there is not one that would condemn her to her well preached hell.
The housecoat and the henchman a mother and daughter no less
A good churchgoing family with their holy pictures to bless
Evil in their deeds of torture and of mental games
The harridan in the housecoat and the daughter with no name.
© ~GG~ 6/08/2012
Coasting on thermals where birds touch the sky
standing below them and watch do I
banking with grace above they ascend
fleeting to views I want never to end
Through the tall grasses do brown bunnies run
enjoying open spaces under the sun
paw prints of raccoons cover my deck
when night arrives their presence I’ll check
In night my roses will disappear
as a sweet dinner for forest deer
the stars will arrive and night will cloak
moon beamed ponds where frogs do croak
Things of great beauty formed by Mans hand
but beneath his gaze will none of it stand
the gold and the silver that so many amassed
to the hills and mountains upon earth will be cast
artifice and toil will disappear in the wind
this system of things will soon meet it’s end
Life’s burning oil so many have wasted
the pursuit of the truth have little tasted
Man has not cared for the gems that reside
the qualities existing in the well inside
understanding and wisdom thought not to seek
strengthening the hands of those who are weak
Exhaustive is the sources of thought
and for vanity is friendship bought
each seeks his own self exultation
casting down others in defamation
God will destroy the lier and sinner
birds will feast as if in dinner
disease and pestilence will follow after
unthinking men have given God laughter
Man’s ingenuity has not been his crown
his own self praise has cast him down
before God’s justice mankind is not humble
compared to his works our own do stumble
Humans seem not to delight in instruction
the foolish among us will suffer destruction
the law and the prophets and Truth are known
among all mankind the news has flown
Sweet in the mouth is the taste of the Truth
but bitter is knowledge that does not sooth
In birth pangs and travail the new system arrives
and with it the loss of so many lives
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
Via Duboff Law Group LLC
sources Isaiah Jeremiah Ezekiel Revelation
Derek runs 26 mile marathons,
With his nerve-damaged right arm
Anchored in a sling: solid sounds,
‘Cos a truck did cause him harm.
The accident changed his life,
But he can’t remember it, recall,
It ended his life as a joiner, Fife,
And now he sells used cars, all.
Recently he has much improved,
So now he’s 7 long minutes faster,
In the London marathon hooved,
‘Tho his left hand he’s had to master.
He represented Britain two times,
At the Worlds in Doha, the year 2015,
And at the IPC World Cup, dimes:
He ran PB’s of 2:40 and 2:37, endive.
He only took up football to get fit,
And for strength and agility he ran,
But this sideline so his inside lit,
That he concentrated on it’s pan.
He says to all of us “To believe that
anything is possible. To get there,
it is about mindset, [what you’re at].
Don’t ever let anyone tell you, [bare],
that something can’t be achieved,
it can. Also to appreciate the good
people around you, [they’ve weaved,
to] help you on your journey, [would]
and will help you reach your goals.
Despite running seeming like
an individual sport, it’s not. [Coals].
Appreciate the team, [your pike].”
Richard Brickley trains Derek,
And gives him medical time off,
He enlisted a coach, a shrek,
Prof Ron Morrison, a techy buff.
Prof Ron Morrison is quite a don,
He’s a professor of lovely computing,
At St Andrews Uni, but that along,
He’s a Para ref, does hammer throwing.
He’s on the Board of Directors,
Of the Scottish Athletics Committee,
And has a deep love with proctors,
Of cross country running agility.
I don’t know, he may have in my past,
Interviewed me for St Andrews Uni,
For computing, I kind of, aghast,
Recognise him: he was kind, and chatty.
Derek made Rio and runs a T45/46,
He’s a member of the athletics club
Anster Haddies. He has his sticks,
In Kirkcaldy, was born in 1985, a hub.
Though I have been born on an island
Though the sea and the beaches make themselves seen to me so often
Each time I do sit and watch the waves
I do feel like I am roaming soul, a soul seeking mystery's love!
Such is what is happening now; sitting am I, at dusk, on the sand
All alone, my heart does beat fast and my pen is in my hand
I do sit and write of what I do imagine
Of the sea and the waves and the mystery of it all, being my life's only scene
I see myself on board a boat
One on which no name is writ
One bearing no flag, except a hidden one, made of a skull
One having no destination, except to keep away from life, a disguised hell
On board this boat I am, on board with a prince
One so mighty and bold, so handsome, with a devilish face
So handsome that when he chose to kidnap me
I pretended to be so meek and weak, as to be scared to follow him meekly
On board this boat, we do make love, so deep and passionate
On board this boat, we do no more care about Karma and Fate
On board this boat, we do exist only for each other
Regardless of whether calm or wild is the water
We travel the world, we meet with mythical creatures
Mermaids, hiding in their hair, the olden pirates' treasures
Krakens, wishing to gobble us up in one gulp
Ulysses, even, shouting out to us to free him, to give him a help!
We battle the rogue waves, we drown in each other's comfort
We live day by day, as if it were the last
We breathe in and out freedom
We are our own rulers, rulers of the sea, a vast kingdom!
The sea, the only escape to our toils, the only way to rid us of our miserable state
The sea, wide, open, inviting, infinite
The sea, by the side of which, dreams full in my heart, I do spend the night!
The sea, by the side of which, dreams full in my heart, I do pen down a hearty write!
Trashed #3, sponsor, Broken Wings
22 Oct 2015
Eyes have gone cold
making a statement bold.
'Dont get near me.
not if you want to continue to see.'
Skin turned rough
she appears tough.
while melting inside
No matter. the pain will hide
greiving the loss
agony clings like moss.
with no give or sway
smothering me through the day
The ghosted hand on my back,
I still crave it throught the lack.
the caring touch of a friend,
followed by words to mend.
Music in all the time
hiding my heart's grime.
afraid of what you will find,
hidden by the pattern I assigned.
Face covered in a colorless mask,
energy restraint is quite the task.
Forbidden memories spill out of my eyes
I wipe them away, giving off more lies.
time wont wait for me,
emotions can't be free.
submerged in work,
emotions can burke.
Sitting silently on the bus
at least the quiet is a plus.
yet with that comes a con,
a pained wail always on the dawn.
Painting a smile on my face,
spewing happy words to fill the silent space,
perfoming for the crowd,
with joyus lines avowed.
A tear-stained pillow sits on my bed,
Awaiting a new drowning from my head.
Flowing words and tunes
soothing and caressing my moods.
Every sunrise brings hope,
but by sunset Im struggling to cope.
torturous day by tedious day,
I retreat more, with less to say.
eyes glued to a screen,
the aleged dream of a teen
not enought to muffle my screams
haunting me in my dreams.
Wake the next morning,
let the mirror be my warning.
I place the mask over my face,
not leaving a trace.
Coming home from the day,
tatteres of my mind astray.
Mask on still but worn,
heart shattered and torn.
I lie down to rest,
Curled up in my soft nest.
Safe, but alone
Tears streaming, cover blown
I fade out
riddled with doubt.
screaming a silent shout,
acceping the blackout.
~Dreams take control
~As I let go
My mom does be a shining lady, one among a million
She had been the one giving me support ever since I was born
She was the one to spark off in me, my love for books
She was the one who would read to me, stories, to help me sleep, at the fall of dusk
Yes, without my mom, I would not be who I am today
A Health Officer, mind you, with matters pertaining to hygiene, she does not play
Always severe and strict with me and my siblings
She does take loads of care in food handling
She does be my pillar in life
She does be the one to shoulder my grief
She does be my friend
Yes indeed, ever since I was a child, she had held my hand
She is, though, a lady who had not had choices
Living in a rigid and strict culture, she could not even raise her voice
Rather, she was imposed upon
Rather, she was trodden upon
Intelligent, she still loves learning
Even if her topics be related to health or to learn typing
She is ready to sacrifice anything
To get a bit more of enlightening
She is the one because of whom I am the way I am
Bold, feminist, a twice thinker, dealing easily with any storm
Yes, for I have seen her waging battles
And yes, I have seen her emerging winsome
My mother does be the one being I do love the most
Yes, of her good looks and her witty ways shall I always boast
My mother, my gift, the one to care for me
Even if I do be one very stubborn and difficult lady!
Born she was at the time my country was still under colonization
Skim and scarce is her level of education
Yet, she is so brave, so hardworking, so courageous and so ambitious
She did teach me to be, with matters pertaining to life, one so cautious
She lives still today, for that I am thankful
Without her, life would surely not feel so joyful
She loves dining, wining, dancing and partying
Yes, a real lady she is, one of the best, indeed!