Long Reedy Poems
Long Reedy Poems. Below are the most popular long Reedy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reedy poems by poem length and keyword.
A late March thundershower floats toward me
Like a plucked flower
Handed over on a walk to a lover
With a smile
Down this afternoon path
That breezes past
Spring-born ponds
Erupting
Of Peepers ululating and Chorus Frogs ratcheting
In a wave of Gnawa music.
The surface
Puckers
Diacritic raindrops
Slowly
Softly
Each plop and their purple ripple
Has not enough splash
To generate an echo
From the reedy shore.
The storm not so strong to hide the sun
For long
To move a wind
Or slice the sky with lightning
Rolls by with quiet thunder
Wetting my hair and all the early blossoms.
My spirit lifts while its shadow stoops
Cups the mud.
This gentle stir
Today
Seems to awaken and nudge the air
Just enough
To take His hand
Away
Sets free
The spring Dove
From his fist
Writes its wings in a mist
Changes his mind from Him to Her.
Mine fervent aspiring political activism...
Gunning gusto, (while rosy axles grind)
for Bernie Sanders dagnabbit
nipped in figurative bud triggered zilch
prospects to germinate,
cultivate, and amalgamate
late blooming spore port as
schlocky, reedy, quirky, political neophyte,
whose aura, charisma, dogma
enigma, persona... absent gregarious masculinity.
Scant hours after posting Facebook message
Monday February 17, 2020
(regarding becoming linkedin
among Bernie Sanders's supporters
within Southeastern Montgomery Pennsylvania
hinting genuine motive (mine of course)
to join local grassroots bandwagon
electing catapulting aforementioned
Democratic candidate president,
into Oval Office
overwhelmingly elected
Tuesday November 3, 2020
an unexpectedly pleasant forthcoming response
(courtesy Jon Hall seven nine five eight at gmail)
informed yours truly transcendently, telepathically
inspired debate watch party
would be (accompanied when in full swing)
by most popular contra dance bands,
and eminently choreographed counting
topnotch cadres of policy wonks
upstairs at Molly Maguire's Irish Restaurant
(197 Bridge Street,
Phoenixville, Pennsylvania)19460
slated for Wednesday
March 19th, 2020 at 2000 hours military time.
Guess what dear readers...?
Yours truly, (an aging,
albeit eternally youthful
long haired pencil necked geek)
never experienced sought after fraternization
think ennobling rite of northwest passage
comprising electrifying informality
getting plugged into self-described
indomitable enthralling brouhaha
starring none other than
Democratic socialist and independent senator
from Green Mountain state
(by Samuel de Champlain in 1647)
Bernie Sanders exuding vim and vinegar
at age seventy eight
heartily hailing (no kidney ying)
who served in government since 1981.
I showed up at designated place
and specified time,
and got politely informed
courtesy young attractive hostess,
no such arousing, inspiring, spine tingling...
commingling of eager electorates slated,
thus overzealousness (mine)
bit the dust i.e. never got kickstarted.
Sending the tending to an unfriended ending,
yet somehow suspending from rending a newly offending recommending.
Logotype monotype linotype,
overripe stereotype,
teletyped an unripe heliotype.
Guttersnipe snipe,
stipe snipe ripe,
a wipe type a tripe,
unleash a withering hype.
Dip snip,
nip lip,
slip skip,
rip the apple pip
over a battleship Chip.
Clip,
airstrip,
blip,
scrip,
gyp,
flip,
dip.
Unsip, blue clip,
A warship, weathering stick.
To miche an itch,
to stitch a witch.
Rich a quitch,
Hitch a flitch.
Gabrilowitsch,
the grand son of a *****!
Pitched a ditch to flitch a niche.
Made a rich hitch lich.
The Thia tie thy tried to untie an unshy,
Spied a sny sty,
He ascribed a bribe tribe,
to dib drib, lib and sib.
A death pale,
dwaled and engrailed,
enjailed and bewailed.
The cocktale turned into a,
ginger ale stale.
A hobnail.
A pale kale.
The whale waled
a veil of wail.
The stale air,
railed the quailing sale.
Dipped the snip,
to pip the tip,
and baled the avail,
to the flailed snail.
Attract extract reenact,
saddle backed and subtracted,
the tact the pact
an unmistakable fact.
Swag the unsage,
the wage of the tutelage.
A coffee break
a bit of a cornflake
cupcaked the cake of the devil's flake.
Draked the fake fruitcake,
and hake the jake on the mellow lake.
Mistake the overtake.
A pancake sheik,
cried spake of a toothache.
Ack Ack!
Back, Bootblack Jack.
Pack the Pontiac rack,
sack the Hackensack,
hijack the leatherback.
Offtrack the outback,
rack the sack,
smack the stack,
stickleback the tictack track,
to the umiak Union Jack.
Twack the whack yak sack,
A mystical one eyed zodiac.
Bready a speedy,
deedy the weedy,
Reedy to leedy.
Unheedy indeedy.
Leda, Vida, Theda.
Sketched an etch,
itched a hatch.
So speechless,
breathless,
toothless.
The socialist,
the communist,
the theorist
the terrorist.
Bedded the bedding
in a dreadful beheading.
Weeded the weed,
leading the lead,
tended the teed.
The ready read,
the reedy reeded.
The seedy seeded.
The end is Ending.
The blank stare, you looking back!
You want some words, my mind's on the track
Holy X Helpful
Unholy X Understanding
Maligned X Merciful
Animal X Awesome
Nasty X Nice
Bravado X Beautiful
Expendable X Enigmatic
Irresponsible X Inspirational
Narcissistic X Nurturing
Greedy X Good
Sums it up nicely.
Mine fervent aspiring political activism...
Gunning gusto, (while rosy axles grind)
for Bernie Sanders dagnabbit
nipped in figurative bud triggered zilch
prospects to germinate,
cultivate, and amalgamate
late blooming spore port as
schlocky, reedy, quirky, political neophyte,
whose aura, charisma, dogma
enigma, persona... absent gregarious masculinity.
Scant hours after posting Facebook message
Monday February 17, 2020
(regarding becoming linkedin
among Bernie Sanders's supporters
within Southeastern Montgomery Pennsylvania
hinting genuine motive (mine of course)
to join local grassroots bandwagon
electing catapulting aforementioned
Democratic candidate president,
into Oval Office
overwhelmingly elected
Tuesday November 3, 2020
an unexpectedly pleasant forthcoming response
(courtesy Jon Hall seven nine five eight at gmail)
informed yours truly transcendently, telepathically
inspired debate watch party
would be (accompanied when in full swing)
by most popular contra dance bands,
and eminently choreographed counting
topnotch cadres of policy wonks
upstairs at Molly Maguire's Irish Restaurant
(197 Bridge Street,
Phoenixville, Pennsylvania)19460
slated for Wednesday
March 19th, 2020 at 2000 hours military time.
Guess what dear readers...?
Yours truly, (an aging,
albeit eternally youthful
long haired pencil necked geek)
never experienced sought after fraternization
think ennobling rite of northwest passage
comprising electrifying informality
getting plugged into self-described
indomitable enthralling brouhaha
starring none other than
Democratic socialist and independent senator
from Green Mountain state
(by Samuel de Champlain in 1647)
Bernie Sanders exuding vim and vinegar
at age seventy eight
heartily hailing (no kidney ying)
who served in government since 1981.
I showed up at designated place
and specified time,
and got politely informed
courtesy young attractive hostess,
no such arousing, inspiring, spine tingling...
commingling of eager electorates slated,
thus overzealousness (mine)
bit the dust i.e. never got kickstarted.
Somewhere downriver, among thrushes and the swallows,
Ducks in hidden hallows have silky, satin wings
Among the reedy shallows, swim ducks in hidden hollows
rest awhile where willows lean, and haloed twilight clings
Summer's been forsaken. Now the leaves are drifting
A constant current takes them to where the sun resides
Dreams are carried with them, in waters ever shifting
Without much hesitation. a few are cast aside
Sodden leaves are drifting, to where the sun resides
I watch the streams meander, and I hear the seasons call
Water soothes the jagged stones, and sparkles in the sun
The moon arrives and sun goes down, as if from earth it falls
Then it melts into the river's flow, and seams blend into one
I hear the seasons call, as the seams blend into one
_____________________________________________________
Contest: 255
Sponsor Brian Strand
The Ohio wipes its face every few miles.
This bend in the river
forgets the wharfs, the gravel silos
and power plants,
only occasional coal barges
push an industrial flatus before them.
Here cattails gather herons
into measured dominions.
The river gallops under placid waves
Fish-eyed currents dip and toggle
in the ripple.
It is possible to watch yourself
being rinsed and laundered
in this newly whisked stream,
possible to wash your face anew.
A person can stand on this reedy shore
and forget, nor see the daily grime,
but observe a lathering,
as a fishing sunlight
pulls out a new image,
the spread of fathoming nets
flung far to catch this fresh
momentary wonder.
If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.
~The Notebook
If you’re a bird, I’m a bird, wing to wing
as we fly feathers synchronize and sing
a simple melody only two hearts never apart
can hear as under bright morning sun
we find filigree breezes finely spun,
as if god and angels take delight
in nature’s orchestrated pavane flight.
We curate sunrise and sing sunset lullabies
with hearts as free as dancing summer butterflies,
then resting in Luna’s soft midnight tympani,
whose notes may even charm the wetlands garganey*~
sleep easily tonight my love,
tomorrow flies the golden dove,
flying high with our true love.
* Small and unobtrusive, often described as shy, duck of reedy and vegetation-fringed wetlands.
From out of the lacustrine,dense tract, green
Lining the silent mossy forlorn lake keen ,
Came out leaping and hopping,a fat frog ;
He landed and stopped on a reedy clog ,
As he saw the Chameleon on a stem frail ,
Gripping fast the rush with its prehensile tail ,
Croaking and flicking his tongue around,
To relish one and all the insects found ;
He made his own way on the rich moss,
And back and forth on the spread-over grass ;
His acrobatics envied and enraged the rival
Watching silently with rolling eyes since arrival .
The crestfallen had missed his chance thrice
And retracted to sit still like frozen ice -
Having lost to the place his colour and stance ;
Thrill and anxiety did the crux spell enchnce ;
A surly serpent suddenly sprang,as if to mock
Hissing , out of the crevice beneath a rock ;
It was a measured move -a prize catch ;
The victim was more a meal than a match ,
And went in neatly with a suppressed wail ;
The avenged lizard quirked and muttered his hail :
Pride goes pouncing and swooping before a fall ,
Thus to end up with a whimper, defeat and all.
Martin came to a cleft in the rocks
The oriole must have gone this way
It was narrow and curving
A sudden turn, and everything seemed to change.
Shrill, reedy music of pipes filled the heavy air,
A smell of musk of goats and their dung.
Invisible cicadas sustained the piper's lament.
Suddenly, he found himself in front of a small but deep lake.
Weeping willows, large copper-coloured beeches
Surrounded by a large pool of azure water.
There was a calm tranquillity about the place
Whilst the air was saturated with a fragrance
Of exotic flowering lavender-like trees.
He heard a splash, and out stepped a young woman.
Her canary yellow elegant swimsuit
Clung wetly to her honey-coloured body.
Damp citrine hair formed a frame around an oval face
That was highlighted by an upturned, pointed nose.
He did not move but stood mesmerized,
Looking into her blue, limpid eyes.
A sweet smile shimmered on her lips.
"Hello," she said in a mellifluous voice.
Her smile was inviting. "My name is Goldie Oriole.
Come, sit near me
And tell me how you found this place."
To be concluded in Part 3