Long Raked Poems
Long Raked Poems. Below are the most popular long Raked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Raked poems by poem length and keyword.
It was the sign that stopped us
And then we saw the stone
Dedicated to an escapee
Who had died there alone.
We read the inscription
All the time being aware
Guards in the tower watched
Every move we made there
Halte Hier Grenze!
(Stop this is the Border)
The sign displayed
To avoid any possible disorder.
Behind the wire were the mines
Then the strip, totally bare of green,
Raked and swept twice a day
So new foot prints can be seen.
In full view of all
The observation towers
Directly in line with the stone
And commemoration flowers.
He is standing there watching us
Bins lens reflecting glare of the sun,
Slung over his shoulder
His loaded automatic gun.
Is he the one who shot the man to
Stop the attempted freedom bid;
If it wasn’t him for certain
One of his colleagues did.
Halte Hier Grenze
What was it all about
Not to stop people going in
But to stop them getting out.
Such a state of desparation
That so many did their best,
And so many failed and died
Just to live in the West.
We took the mandatory photo
And then we didn’t linger,
Just turned our backs and walked
After giving him the finger.
(10/13/11)
The autumn leaves falling on the ground
The autumn leaves of yellow, orange and brown
The trees like a rainbow of colors
Such as this there is no other.
My friends would climb up the smallest trees
And shake the leaves down to me.
then the leaves are raked up and placed in a large pile
Children diving in and laughing all the while.
The crispy crunch that you hear
Sends the chills through your ears.
The autumn leaves reminding us
That Halloween was very near
Where we could dress up and create some fear.
But for now we would have our fun
Chasing each other with our water guns
Diving into leaves of gold and brown
Hoping that we wouldn’t be found.
The park keeper was as happy as can be
From raking the leaves he was free.
He would pick them up and putting
Them into the metal cans- and the smell
Of burning leaves would fill the air
Letting people know that autumn was here.
( memories are made of this- like the song)
He walked along the cobbled streets,
a terrible freezing gloaming, frosted air.
Snow crystal upon snow crystal
dampen the arctic gelidity:
his head was chilled, his teeth chattered
and frostbite raked his fingertips.
He turned, shuffling into a side street.
Fear clutched his heart, but he felt valiant
and entered boldly her heated abode.
She waited for him, slouching on her sofa.
He was quick to notice her stern face,
a contrast to her gentle eyes,
that shone like the silvery stars.
Could he detect some pathos there?
Uncertain, he knew how unpredictable she was.
A stunning figure on show for him.
He pleaded:
“Shield me from the freezing night.”
Her cat-like smile formed on her ruby lips.
“Am I that unwelcome, my sweet?
Grant me a few moments of bliss.
just one ruddy, wanton, lingering kiss,
Then I'll be off and leave you in peace,
the peace I shall never find.”
It was not to be—the finality of love.
The air outside was colder still.
His life would be melancholy forevermore.
The air was filled with sparks so bright;
Ash and fire abound.
The night was filled with fairy light;
and deep the drumming sounds.
Chorus
And all about the wondrous night,
in forms both large and small;
walked spirits old and mighty souls
to lend a charm to all.
The sky o'er head was filled with stars;
Haze filled fairy flight;
The treetops raked the regal tarp;
While didgeridoo's delight.
And all about the wondrous night,
in forms both large and small;
walked spirits old and mighty souls
to lend a charm to all.
A circle formed of swaying hips;
Brass bangles chimed the sound;
The voices, deep and high and shrill;
Bare feet stomped, the ground.
And all about the wondrous night;
Wide eyed I walked enthralled;
As through the rents in astral space;
I heard the lovers call.
Sing a long!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zc6w1xSJfnY
I woke up this morning thinking that I didn’t have enough time
I completed my daily routine and hurried through the door, I raked up the trash and set the rat trap and I wash the clothes and hang them outside the door, I just cruise with the morning and whisper a silent hymn and everything felt so refreshing and a sudden peace passes over me and set my spirit free.
Oh that I could sing to usher the good energy in and tell the tales of old how joy fill my soul, I could break a branch from the tree and scatter the leaves around me and gather the birds on the limb to sing and fill the earth with harmony; voices from around the world blend together to touch your soul, voices that resonates to the sky and roll away the dark clouds and shine its light upon you and make your all awaited dream come true
Only if mankind could sing and bring the universe with him, he could
Create a different tune and make arrangement for the universe to join him at noon. Each one will compose a different verse and connect it to a different part of the world and if each country sells a billion copies it will make the universe happy. Voices from the East blend with voices from the West and voices from the north will blend with voices from the south.
An hour makes a difference when you want to spend time with your friend, an hour makes a different when the creative juice is running out of your head and your husband cannot get out of bed, and when you get the extra time to complete the negotiation, heavens will seal the deal and everything will become real.
I have waited for the time to change to go easy with my brain and I feel so relaxed that I walk around without socks; my creative juice is flowing and the orchestra is playing and my breath is making music on the page; it is the magic you create when daylight saving time walks through the gate.
Some people likes it later but I prefer earlier there is just so much that I can do before the sun greats me and you, an hour makes a big difference
It is time to make music with my new found friend.
Let the instruments speaks!
I feel like I am fading away to nothing,
blending into an ordinary crowd,
where no one even notices me anymore.
Like an April snowflake, freely falling, landing on warm cement.
And, fading away with a short existence.
Or, an August raindrop in a passing storm,
dripping onto dry, weathered porch steps,
soaking into the wood grain, absorbing the very life of me.
Eventually leaving nothing behind.
Or like autumn leaves,
that once shined like gold in an October sunset,
now slowly withering and drifting to the ground
only to be raked aside,
or blown away to who knows where.
I feel like I am fading away to nothing.
A reflection in a mirror, that I can no longer recognize.
I don't want to be forgotten, especially to myself.
Like a lost spirit that no one can see, or even knows exists.
I'm dying out like the last spark of a flickering candle.
And evaporating into thin air like melting wax.
Like a piece of colored paper left in the sun's rays,
losing it's original brilliance, day by day,
the longer it is left there,
like no one cares about it anymore.
Or more like a bright helium balloon that escaped
from a crying child's hand
drifting away and out of my reach, gone with the wind
And, disappearing into the clouds forever.
Fading away to nothing.
After raking hours of 24/7 toil
this brain wants to spin with ole jazz’s request…
14th Road at 8 pm sprays lint upon feet
much too slow for a jig of a night dance.
Somehow, the breeze leaps to resurrect
my wired head, as the gravel hiss of the sax
purrs and pulsates, allowing spicy vapor
to restore the rhythm's passion
and slice of gaiety in unbridled recklessness;
thrusting upon nerve endings for an evening
of choral notes bursting with alchemy.
Dazzling to the beat in steel of moonlight,
each velvet croon tastes a Coltrane groove
as swaying hips bob to the pulse of sweet chaos.
I hit the floor barefoot
with raked notes climbing into my belly
in the heat of brass pitch…
after work, the smoky timbre rolls on and on
as waxed pipe of rocking blues floats,
drenched with raw inspiration!
Inspiration Contest
Sponsor:Nayda Negron
Far, far out at sea one day
A Hummingbird so found its way
To roost upon my pulpit rail
And thus decided it would stay
Never through my years at sail
Had I seen a hummer male
So many miles off the coast
Now bound with me into a gale
All day long he kept his post
Thus, to be a decent host
I prepared some nectar, warm
(Tho' he liked my tea the most)
I worried he might come to harm
As we had sailed into a storm
But soon he found his way below
And hid until the winds were calm
When the squall had ceased to blow
And sun had set with afterglow
Up he came to perch and see
The phosphorescent undertow
All those weeks far out at sea
No better friends had we, than we
A steady thrum of wings, I heard
As always, he stayed close to me
Then, nearing harbor it occurred
I hadn't seen my Hummingbird ...
So odd, the ache that raked my soul
Eyes stinging as my vision blurred
'Twas many years, that, now I'm old
How often I've that story, told ...
Yet more, the times I've looked to sky
For hummer wings, so bright and bold
And should I spot that bird a-high
I pray he'll linger, bye-and-bye
For I've not known a better friend
Nor greater need to blot my eye ...
Our souls were kin ... wee bird and I.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Devotion To Ocean" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.
(This is a form of Rubaiyat I've been playing with that I call "Echoing Rubaiyat", and it carries the rhyme of line three to the next stanza - AABA, BBCB, CCDC, DDED, etc.).
and I could not look away
I stared into the shadows
of a lover’s distant past
Heard whispers in the darkness
of the spell her heart did cast
As it raked across my feelings
and I cried out in the night
When this smile I was wearing
fit a little bit too tight
With her painted nails of crimson
like the color of my blood
She clawed at my emotions
as the silhouettes did flood
This morning found believing
that our time is filled with fate
Where I find my voice is screaming,
please don’t tell me it’s too late
She collected every promise
on the worries I did call
For she wanted me to know that
I could never have it all
Still I crawled into the silence
with my eyes so open wide
And together we were drowning
in the motion of the tide
In her arms now spun the seconds
of the minutes I could spare
Like a clock that’s steady ticking
darkened rhythms sent to share
Drinking thirsty from the fountain
as her finger it did press
On the chrome implanted wishes
of an early moon confess
For her smile was infectious
as it hid her dirty deeds
When I fell intoxicated
still to stagger in these needs
Tried to gaze off in the distance
but my vision would not stay
I was trapped in her seduction...
and I could not look away
Good night Soupers
Oh baneful yellow Moon in fullest rounded sphere,
Bright as Summers Buttercups in abundant yield,
Coldly riveted upon Winters beaten, thin silvered panels;
Thereof: By ye mighty hammer doth great thoth wield!
For what fearful trowel gouged out thine far flung valleys
Whilst piling high upon yon monstrous heights?
Wherest, scattering the bare pebbles, a ghostly sower
Coursing across vast cratered plains under Selenian moonlights.
Here once didst thou swelling tides ever invade long vanished shores
Dragged upon by some dwindling, exploded, far distant star;
An atmosphere girdling, warming and nurturing -
Torn from this barren rock and cast way out afar!
Eternally ostracized and deviled, adorned in black swirling robes;
Drifting angular grains heaped - raked by hot solar winds;
Your desolate kingdoms lit in all seasons under heavenly lanterns;
Worshiped and foully cursed upon: for any amount - and all manner of sins.
And ere did erstwhile lovers that ever come forth on bended knee,
To traverse the pale beams that twist about the crooked stiles,
Pledge well intended oaths beneath high, impossible windows:
Their grandly draped balconies and balustrades bathed in luminosities wiles.
When across the recorded centuries of histories misted-veiled years,
from the quill of the old sage, from the high lilt of the bard,
Your pensive countenance disaffected and of a cheerless tilt -
Hanging upon sharply crested vestiges of reckless disregard!