Long Raking Poems
Long Raking Poems. Below are the most popular long Raking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Raking poems by poem length and keyword.
Though (supposedly) only
the good die young, urn holding
cremated ashes a mere cup
full, every last man standing falls,
cuz nobody else
escapes un pup
yule lore blitzkrieg,
or aging gracefully,
the unavoidable eventual fate,
(mortal fateful demise),
sans the remaining unsung
anonymous peoples meet up
with the grim reaper,
who will ineluctably disrupt
the carryings on
with each and every individual
(non plus ultra all other
life forms as well)
gradually or with abrupt,
and unannounced debut
scythe lent lee appearing
to whisk away the
honest and/or corrupt
whether taking their
first meal of the day,
and/or last sup
per, perhaps sitting quietly,
when body electric
amp pare rent lee
receives ohm
my word fatal invite,
whereat permanent shocking
quiescence doth, sans
stealth maneuver erupt
tragically, indiscriminately,
and blithely
mowing down innocent civilians,
and/or training fate squarely
upon heads of soldiers
life during wartime,
where opposing armies regale
while marching men go hup...
to three fore (akin
to a story field day),
winning booby prize, viz
counting on qua,
asper winning lottery
and/or Stanley Cup
major blood bath rendered
significant counting coup
whereat each opposing fighting
force figuratively doth slew
the other, analogously dost defeat
making mince meat
re: as uniformed brigades in heat
of wanton killing
fields sliced minced,
chopped nada so vary neat,
via stealth unable dupe, nor cheat
death be not proud,
et cetera, nonetheless,
grimly forced to greet
a bonanza coup won,
only tubby beat
tin to pulp by adept
skull and excellent fleet
of foot (top
notch crafted) sweet
(albeit) temporary victory
tasting said treat
assailing, bruiting , and/or
weathering stance versus
alternating between defensive
and/or offensive
use of cross bones,
in a hail of bullets
instantaneously didst greet
fast and furious i.e. suffering
deadly raking har row
ring slaughter, an entire
phalanx gone, where
(metaphorical terrible swift sword)
no uniformed fighter
can never call retreat.
On comes a traveler from lands that I have not wandered only visited
Bringing with him memories of the pains I have borne through my life
Like the desert whose dunes I dared only once to climb when youth held me fast
A fleeting grasp, a tentative hold that was as it must be for us all I have come to see
In those valleys of sand where the sun drank from my body ravenously to crack my skin
I saw only once the whispering vision of life in the distance
Shimmering in the heat of the burning sands stood an oasis many miles deeper
So I set out with that vision hardly in my mind across the desert
Over mountainous dunes and into abyssal valleys with the sun raking my back
I walked and then I crawled when my feet became blistered stumps rubbed raw
I crawled until my hands and knees bled
I crawled until I held my head high no longer
Still I wandered, still I moved despite the sand choking my eyes closed
I crawled my body burned and my eyes blinded by sun and sand
Only to find my way back to this shack on the Desert’s edge
My journey had betrayed me I believed
My journey had twisted me all around I thought
Until today when came a wanderer through the desert forge
To sit down and rest with heavy sigh and cloud of slowly settling sands
On his shoulder sat a grey old owl watching me silently with eyes of tired wisdom
In his arms the man carried his second friend a satyr with ivory pipes to match his horns
I nodded in quiet solitude rocking back and forth in my old wooden chair
So it was that we listened to the gentle creaking of the wood
Listened to thunder rolling in off the great Blue Divide
Listened to wind shushing through the leaves of Heaven’s Gate
Felt the heat wafting over us from the Desert’s edge
Neither of we two speaking, only listening until at long last with the sun beginning to set
The satyr stirred just enough to lift the pipes to his lips and then to play
A hauntingly sweet song of blissful sorrow like age-old memories of lost youth
And we listened to him play his song long into the night
Until the stars failed to shine and the curtain of day touched the veil of dreams
“Time to leave, time to go, time to say farewell
For there are roads still to travel and I have yet much to see
And so long a way to go,” he said with a quiet voice of strength
I have waited so long to compose a new song; I have waited so long for you to come along. Time is setting fire underneath my feet; time is igniting a motion in the third degree; time is raking up the dust and everyone is getting ready to board the bus.
The sun is setting fire to my mind and the journey from mega peak to California is divine .
I am walking in a straight line and the clouds in Angola are dancing about causing the people to run and shout. What on earth has gone wrong?
The Angolans are chanting a mournful song today they are here tomorrow they are there and the wind is blowing through the trees and moving across the hemisphere littering the avenue and the streets.
They have been waiting for fifteen years underneath the trees on a political promise that had no legs but it came in time when Obama had something to sell and nothing to tell.
Sixty-three thousand of them waited in the bush living in the wilds honey all day with nothing to cook, they survive every day on water and grain to enter America visa free but the promise was not fulfilled.
A new administration came along and everyone was singing a different song and the deal died peacefully in the bushes.
The new administration began to shout and the bush people’s fate was worse than before. They were tossed in different directions, and forced out of the woods to go and fend for themselves.
The sick and destitute start moving around in crotches and long gowns, and the old and feeble trod along praying to Allah in the woods but time propels them in different direction and the Americans watch from the big screen an epitaph of a broken promise lying among the trees and the promise was covered with dirt and those that survived moved boldly with courage to another place.
I have waited so long for you to come along to listen to your story of how you escaped from glory,
I have waited for so long to have a decent shower and walk in the book shops to feast my eyes on new literature.
I want to look at some focused recipe and the ingredients that is mixed with dusts and those that cause you to fuss. A combination of truths will draw a fine line around those terrific boots.
I have waited for so long to compose this song so meet me underneath the tree and sing along with me.
For if ever I was I to summon up
forthwith the words to write something
anything befitting worthy of you yourself
I fear that trite would be the only
apt way and means to describe
my bestest yet falling failing short
of effort and expectations
And can I that hasn't already been said
and spoken of you that hasn't already
been said by far better folk than I
Apart from what you are and represent
to me is everything single good thing
I have done and thought that entered
my head
So much so it wouldn't be redundant of
me to say that when it comes to love
I not you am in fact the lucky one that
love did chose to bless and render
you blind
Otherwise if you weren't why on earth
would you have ever given me a fleeting
glance second look or moment of your
time
Serendipity to my dismay for whatever
reason gave me you more than I could
ever possibly wished for ever wanted
in every way
I'm still in awe and anyone who knows
me will tell I have bored them all to
death as all I ever seen to talk about is
you
Now all that I have left to do is go to
bed say my prayers will hopefully one
day be finally answered and sleep and
dream of you
Because I have yet to meet you , you do not
exist apart from an aperture of my own
creation revolving inside my head
That sometime in the not to distant
awaits me when eventually both our
paths cross
And love no longer becomes a fairytale
but I get to wake up next to and find
out what it actually feels like to experience
What it is to be loved and love and
reciprocate that love to a certain
someone back
Someone who I get to buy flowers for
no apparent reason other than today
at work a thought of you popped into
my head and I began to smile from
ear to ear
Never i shall I compare thee to a summer's day
or thy presence or beauty to that of but a rose
Unless that rose is firmly clasped betwixt
your finger's whilst head is ever so slightly
tilted down raking in floral scents perfumery
Or summer if it be set adjacent back
illuminating your silhouette with vestal
angel radiant celestial white gold
So much so I had to stop and wonder
to myself if she may just well be
Eve's reincarnation herself
Long ago far from Annwn, roaming the castle of Bedlam It began a house of bread to the tormented souls but sanity’s answer to Melancholy and Raving is for one to wade, through the sewer, of chaos and confusion the wild spinning of rational therapy Spinning on a throne suspended from the ceiling A dizzying carnival of madness, to no avail Open windows into disturbed minds but who’s One swell master stroke no raking progress, in the dungeons of the mind Warmer was the solitary confinement, of the straight jacket The icy baths, leeching, beatings, bloodletting, cups of fire Blistering the mind, as a silent young one rooms with a manic As the black knights of this realm sell the spoils to their starvation The political prisoners of their choosing, even the dead are sold for gold but an escape was made playing dead, to the body snatchers surprise Myrddin Wyllt’s scientific method is running into the woods vanishing before their eyes, far from the aristocratic zoo - Based on Bedlam, History’s Most Notorious Asylum and various legends
Inside My Head, My Muse Too Often Rages
Muse, please stop that raking inside my old head
and those stomping feet keep me awake too late.
I love other nights and your words I am often fed
even the scary ones about my coming tragic fate.
Know that this is not a raging and silly complaint
there is far more to me than madness and glue.
Yet too often your words, good words, they ain't
Set me to curse some of the wicked things you do!
How about that night you twisted my deepest love
added in words about my secret lustful thought.
Then the time you cried out, kill that damn dove!
Yes, tis' true my heart and soul you have bought.
And why can not I write one without your blather
are not my own brain birthed words fine and great.
No thanks, kiss you send is rejected, for I'd rather
you took long vacations and did not keep me up late!
Before you fly FAR away mad as a bat out of Hell
please help me with that dark poem, I am stuck.
Did I mention that I truly think you are so swell
No my friend, I'll not lay down in front of a truck!
Yes, you did toss into this write some sharp words
a strong positive you sometimes so generously add.
No, my aching head tis not full of old and lazy birds
I command that you now be sweeter and not so bad!
Hear me again, stop chattering and you just listen.
I want big stars, deeper love and words that glisten!
Muse, please stop that raking inside my old head
and those stomping feet keep me awake too late.
I love other nights and your words I am often fed
even the scary ones about my coming tragic fate.
Robert J. Lindley, 09-10-2015
Sponsor Name-- Broken Wings
Contest Name --Trashed #2
What to Submit?
Any poem entered in a contest in the month of SEPTEMBER that did not place. Please remove all other contest information from the poem.
Requirements:
Poem must have been for a contest judged in September (yes, I check)
Date written and posted
Your name
This contest noted , example, Trashed #2, sponsor, Broken Wings
No Honorable Mentions, although painful that is a placement
No poems entered in any of my previous contest (yes I have a list)
No poems written in - I Do No Know, that is not a form
No poems sexually explicit
The path was long and arduous
And night began to veer
O’er trees, and lanes and rusted gates
Its' shadows breeding fear
Unbridled Wind wisped ‘round
Tombstone crosses where
Hissing its’ frustration
Loudly in despair
It sought to nourish fears
The shadows did create
Searching everywhere to find
It’s soul-less night-time mate.
Moonbeam light kissed the Night
Claiming shadows as their child
Together then in lock-step
They bent on running wild
And there, where he awaited
Their cold inspiring touch
With doctrines of all Evils
Firmly in his clutch
The blackness in his heart,
Thumping ‘neath his frock
Soon it’s rancid maladies
The Wind would there unlock
Thoughts of what’s to come
Then twisted lips to smile
Revealing stained and yellowed teeth
Trapping breath so rank and vile
‘twas then The Prince of Avarice
Rose and stood erect
The world would soon be his
To ravage and infect
His eyes of snake, both bespake
Behind their reptile lids
The embrace of the doctrine
For no Evils it forbids
The Wind increased its’ howling
Icy fingers pushing fro
Arranging fallen hopes
Into a dead rouleau
And you and I so un-suspect
Of pending alchemy
Believing we were safe inside
Cocoons of normalcy.
Our naiveté so firmly grasped
Caused us to belie
The chaos we knew not …
‘twas there, and drawing nigh
As Wind fingers touched him
He yelled out his decree:
“ The Prince of Avarice shall reign
And destroy Democracy!”
His school of ghouls, dunce and fools
Clamored to his side
Greed having won the day
Was about to take It’s ride!
Greed, first blessed the banks
And Wall Street did rejoice
The Prince of Avarice then silenced
All protestor ‘s voice
With lies and propaganda
All fabricated well
Then all the bankers rang
The borrowers death knell
Morgan Stanley, AGI,
Then ‘twas Goldman-Sachs
Raking in what Greed gave out:
Billions in green-backs.
Glutted bankers,
Through laughter Greed had honed
Uncaringly showed the world
A prediction - their prodrome
Of broken dreams, foreclosure schemes
Insuring that which failed
But jobs the cost, as homes were lost
And not a banker jailed.
Shall we adjourn from the
morning morgue
For pizza and a game of chess?
Rays Curve Along The Earth
It is daybreak
With morning comes the
shining off the layers of the
lake
And mourning the opening of
the floodgates
We went down to the coffee
table
Skipping past the cherry tree
This tree, it served us fruit and
oak
To love and to live beside the
wood
And there we played a game of
chess
[/i/The bishops had fallen but
the castle was gone
The White king shoved the
guardsman pawn
He fell soon after
To roars of laughter
They all adjourned to the
morgue
To the final morgue]
Tea for two and two for tea
Still Café Paris for you and me
We lounged in striped sky blue
beach chairs
Our raking gazes grazed the
summit of the hill
I would not have sat still
But for the girl that had lain
The girl wreathed in flame
Scratched her shoulders and
laughed with the rain
I wondered: did I dare?
Hold her hand and descend into
the uncharted lair?
Gears and Cogs
It was between April and June
I began to build my bicycle
Fitted in a third wheel
By then I couldn't tell what was
true
What was real?
Took her down ol' King's Road
Gave her a short spin
But for the third wheel she
would've broken
She survived, just barely, a
token
The token piece remained
unbroken
I BUILT a house of upside down
I KNOW that lost is lost but
found
She was my house of upside
down
I built her and she built me
We built each other in the
machine
Gliding Through The Winter
Wood
It is nightfall
With dark tags along the
midnight sun
Unwanted but unaffected
She shifts the curves along the
earth
And ruffles up the winter wood
Where I have been waiting
Where I have wasted many a
night praying
And on the tree bark painting
For love and for my love
And the taking of an oath and
tea
What then shall the leaves fall
From thy hand onto the snow
And when shall there be
daylight once more?
For now I shall be gliding
Gliding through the winter
wood
Dark amongst the silver white
I am king and you are queen
In an endless game of chess
Sunlight at an angle dancing through colored leaves
Cool nights to snuggle beneath the sheets; warm days of ease
Last of gardens harvest; goodbye to summer's bees
Joyful time to harvest soon days a breeze
Pumpkins, winter squash, turnips, and peas
Food in bounty stored away for many days
Christmas will be upon us in just a very few days
The yard will be raked again and again to rid of leaves
Garden vegetables will be stored also cooking of peas
For right after Christmas comes New Years Day with ease
The howling winds will blow and it won't be just a breeze
But now all the bugs have disappeared_gone are the bees
We will not have to worry with yellow jackets or bees
As the night grow longer and shorter the winter days
March soon will come in bringing its strong breeze
Those indominable buds show forth on the trees soon leaves
We will float into warm days and beauty of spring with ease
Now we will have eaten most of those delicious peas
Soon in the newly planted garden_those early June Peas
Newly hatched from their hiding places comes those bees
Just lying around in the hammock with all this ease
These wonderful times_joy of longer days
Joy, oh! joy and joy again with spring's green leaves
Soft and gentle comes a blowing spring's warm breeze
But there is one less chore now for there is no raking leaves
Afternoon in the lazy hammock oh what ease
Glad that in the garden and Pampas Grass stay those bees
These times in life are just fun and a zephyr breeze
Summer comes with the picking, shelling, and freezing peas
These times are wonderful long sunny days
But soon slowly fade, then the change in those leaves
Summer still has a lazy few days with comfy ease
Even if the pollen draws those hungry stinging bees
From the west and north come a much drier breeze
How thankful that we have those great peas
Soon fade those longer sunlit sunny days
No raking leaves in winter, only by firelight with ease and read
All those pesky bees gone now, on the currents winter's breeze brings flurries
Now dine on peas put away to eat on cold fruitless days of old man winter
Sunlight at an angle dancing through colored leaves
Cool nights to snuggle beneath the sheets; warm days of ease
Last of gardens harvest; goodbye to summer's bees
Joyful time fo harvest soon days a breeze
Pumpkins, winter squash, turnips, and peas
Food in bounty stored away for many days
Christmas will be upon us in just a very few days
The yard will have to be raked again and again to rid of leaves
Those garden vegetables will stored and put aside a cooking of peas
For right after Christmas comes New Years Day's fare with ease
The howling winds will blow and it won't be just a breeze
But now all the bugs have disappeared_ gone are the bees
On New Year"s Day we will have those delicious peas
We will float into spring with all ease
On the day we will not have to worry with yellow jackets or bees
As the nights grow longer and shorter the winter days
Those indominable buds show forth on the trees and soon leaves
March will come in bringing its strong breeze
Joy, oh!. joy and joy again with spring's green leaves
Just lying around in the hammock with all this ease
Newly hatched from hiding places comes those bees
Soft and gentle comes a blowing spring's warm breeze
In the newly planted garden_those early June peas
These wonderful times _joy of longer days
These times in life are just fun and a wonderful breeze
Then summer comes with the picking, shelling, and freezing peas
But there is one less chore now for there is no raking leaves
Out in the garden and in Pampas Grass thick with those bees
These times are wonderful long sunny days
Afternoons in the lazy hammock oh! what ease
How thankful that we have those great peas
Even if the pollen draws those hungry stinging bees
Summer still has lazy days with ease
Soon those longer sunlight hours sunny sunny days
Begins to slowly fade then the change in those leaves
From the west and north come a much drier breeze
Old man winter slips in with ease, now we'll eat those dry peas
Blow wind with swift breeze, time to kill all lingering bees
By th warm fire spend our days, soon snow covers all those leaves