Long Resumed Poems
Long Resumed Poems. Below are the most popular long Resumed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Resumed poems by poem length and keyword.
An essence heard a heartfelt plea
meek, unconfident, not familiar
"Should I bother anymore? Please guide me."
His words hardly mist....
a response slices the scene
with the speed of a guillotine.
skittering over the asymmetrical
similarities of a snowy expanse
a messenger appears
cracks of icy dunes
produce precarious pawfalls
plaguing the vixen.
venturing further precisely
she plods over precipices
of ragged protrusions
desperate to achieve the comfort
of a smooth surface.
"Where you go is perilous!
I worry for your safety!
It can't be done, you won't survive!"
...cried the timid.
Her movement stops on cue
slowly facing the pupil
she teaches in silent syllables
floating on unknown frequencies.
" DAMN YOU NAYSAYER!
I have no time for the likes of you.
Say I won't survive? Come out alive?
I've fought through worse pain
finding sustenance to gain
morsels leaving one inspired
not feeling as if they're mired.
Search within your pores
find where you have hidden yours."
Dumbfounded - the novice stirs restlessly
"Perplexed, I see, you are mon cherie.
Hear what you seek before I flee.
When life's coldness surrounding you
leaves you writhingly wretched
don't feel so desolate and utterly dejected.
Deep inside lies the truth
albeit quite protected.
Bugger those scorning your worth
their eyes glisten shades green.
Stagnantly feeding ego's girth
pompous words - own to preen.
YOU are the Alpha here Jack
there is no need to whine
Condemn the disapproving pack
let your own light shine
Too much weight put into their drivel
making your inner child snivel
Buck up, put them in their place
other's ire force them to chase.
This be your nefarious impasse
faux approval merely to fit in
Always people of that class
saying anything to win
Lastly,
though I've said enough....
It's as you learned when a tyke
those times you fell off your bike
quit being a ruse
get back to your muse
keep working at what you like!"
Sunset facing her gaze
signals the quest resumed
Her protege audibly sobs
a simple seven syllable soliloquy stating:
"Thank you
I love and miss you!"
with a whispered (mom)
Tender tendrils of whispy wind
touch a cheek with a kiss
and a lasting voiceless return.....
"Forever, son"
Loving life hid beneath rim of cool ceramic bowl
Tree frog claimed proud place, toilet's homely hole
Enamoured by his simple palace making stance
I bend to peer at his green grip toe stick, entranced
My ordinary admonished by gaze from onxyx eyes
Quick reflex and instinct, skills by which Frog relies
Shine of black marble smartness lures me nearer
Knowing even with my bulk, I'm somehow inferior
Rubber eyelid winks, peels open again enlarged
Eye wrinkles droop to hammock, I'm encouraged
To nestle within humid folds, shrunk human glued
Oscillated in his lid lures languishing duly procured
Spun suddenly, rubbery cocoon cosy lurches erratic
Some worry occurs I'll drown outside skin hammock
Prior to paranoia taking over, thrown from dizzying ride
Launched into stark big bowl with steep slippery sides
Swim in cistern spew strangely renders me cleansed
Lap in lurid blue sends me to inevitably to S bends
Whooshed and flushed with refreshed perspective
Dark harassed by diffused hues tug seductive
Dolphin derived, my smooth unphased by spiralling
Saturated zones, ease honed, enamour never tiring
Snorkel hole snorts water, puffs readily on its purification
Imbibing combines giddy with clarity, senses' temptation
My forehead flicked flirtatiously by wide flamingo flippers
Splayed feathers fan surface, showcase dance floor shimmer
Cabaret her costume, shakes crystal bead rainbow release
Ravishing precise pirouettes prim pink princess completes
Her curved beak caresses my porthole brain, rubs insistantly
Into warm walnut shell weapon I'm swallowed quite quickly
I spy through pomegranate seed eye, mirror lake unswayed
Stilled kindly by wind's nonexistance, decision to travel made
Climbed to bird's tiny tiara topped crest, covered in feathers
Graceful lace tu- tu floats my aquatic future endeavour
Bouyed weightless and grateful, flip draws no resistance
Swim in S bend treasure, trip of sight resumed brilliance
*** Spring has sprung!!
- in Australia
My branch beyond
The tired pond
of Earth, awakes
Imminent Heaven
(perhaps)
*** A collapse of facts
Flight of flamingo regalia
Revel in place of waste
- Mystery flush takes
on its S bend
1st September 2020
It was long ago,
Whilst I was still going to college,
Way back during the dawn of mankind,
Still living with my first wife, with my parents,
And my beloved mutt-dog, Rippy...
A smallish, black dog,
Long a part of the family,
He loved cheese, like all Bells,
And hated harmonicas, I guess,
As he would howl when my father played...
But we didn't know that then,
We thought the cutie was merely singing along...
Well, Rippy was in the habit of being let out,
On his own, as we had a big yard,
And always came back without incident...
Until one winter's day, when he never returned...
All hearts were broken,
But none more than mine...
I went out after a snow storm tapered off,
Found his frozen carcass in a street nearby,
And buried him, not an easy task,
In the frozen back yard ground...
Set up a cross,
Although he never admitted to a religion...
And sadly resumed my routine...
Two days later, I came home from C.C.N.Y.,
One afternoon, via bus and subway...
When I came in the door,
My young first wife, Ann, and my mother,
Greeted me with mysterious, mischievous smiles...
They told me to close my eyes,
They would take me inside my parents'
Sealed close bedroom, for a surprise...
Great mystery was evident,
And it was evident they were enjoying
My perplexed looks...
Well, I did as told,
They took me into my parents bedroom,
I was told to open my eyes,
I did, and there on the bed,
Was my beloved Rippy!!
I was delighted, of course,
But wondering if this was some evil magic,
As I had buried him some days prior,
But no, it was Rip, and he was find,
Just a bit skinnier than usual.
So, who had I buried?
To this day I don't know,
But what are the odds,
A dog of similar shape and size,
Should appear dead, frozen,
Directly across the street?
Was his whitish frozen hue
The reason I was fooled?
I don't know,
But I was so overjoyed,
To have my favorite dog of all times, back...
When he ultimately did die...
My wife was gone from the scene,
And my dog died in my arms...
And if I live to be 600,
And have 100 dogs more
Before I die,
I will always miss my Rippy most,
So deeply did he I adore.
For Rhoda, who is about to lose a favored cat,
whose posted picture proved that
that particular cat was gorgeous
beyond normal expectations. tom bell
“Do you like yabbies?” Barry asked. I replied “Are you sick!
I’d just like to ask you; now is the Pope a Catholic?” …
So we headed off across the ranges, where Barry’s cousin Ray,
had a dam that’s full of them on a property near Yea.
There’s no sophisticated fishing gear that we needed to get.
Just a stocking, string, piece of meat; plus a wobbly old scoop net.
The dam was quite a big one with tussocks growing ‘round the rim.
Within an hour I had scooped a bucket filled up to the brim.
We knocked off to have some lunch and to have a beer or two.
but in that hour we sat down we knocked down quite a few.
When I resumed my ‘yabbying’, my head’s spinning like a top,
and then I saw a frightening sight that made me quickly stop.
A big brown snake was sunning, between me and the dam.
The beer had made me brave enough to give this bloke a slam.
I picked up an old dry limb and gave it one tremendous whack;
it squirmed and twisted in death thro’s; then lay dead upon its back.
Barry claimed I was a hero when he’d seen what I had done,
not many tackle brown snakes; they slide faster than we run.
“Is that so” I said to him, and was sobering ‘quick smart’,
watching Barry in his stupor pick up the snake and play his part.
He opened up the mouth and then he got out his pocket knife.
Put the blade behind a needle fang, “Here’s what takes your life”.
Then said “I ought to skin him; it’s prob’ly worth a ‘pretty pound”.
Then just for fun he grabbed the tail and swung it ‘round and ‘round.
“Be careful mate!” I turned and ran; making sure, I’m out of the way.
“What’s the matter?” Barry laughed. “This mongrel’s had its day.
I‘ll show you something else” and held the snake behind the neck,
then put its head into his mouth; then he gave it’s nose a ‘peck’.
Barry seen that I was nervous; that he held me in his palm.
He watched me flinch and shiver when he wrapped it ‘round his arm.
“Ah that’s enough” he grinned, but I reckon he’d been rash,
then he swung it high into the air. We watched it fall and splash.
Barry laughed, “That’s ‘gunna’ give the yabbies quite a feed”.
Then something happened in the water that Barry didn’t need.
We turned to walk back to our strings - Barry’s face turned ashen grey.
It took a while reviving him when the brown snake swam away.
THIS IS A SHORT STORY WRITTEN 7/2/19
The Long Journey
Every day I walk almost a mile with my little pug "Tiko",he is 10 lbs.of energy
all bundled up in curiosity,he loves to see the wild life on our walks,every
day he sees something different or so it seems,sometimes its deer,rabbits,
turkeys,squirrels and other dogs.
Today he saw a fuzzy black/brown worm slowly crossing the highway,he
got all excited by this new wonder of nature,he started jumping all around me
hoping I would let him play with his new friend all the while this little worm
was slowly crawling across the highway.I finely pulled him away from his
new little friend and told him that his little buddy needed to go on with
his journey,and you and I need to go on with ours.
Then as we watched the little worm a moment more as he was slowly
crawling across the road,he had not quite made it halfway,there came
the sound of a car coming down the highway,as I got Tiko to the side of
the road where we would be safe,I wondered if the little worm had something
to keep it safe,knowing how dangerous his little journey is.Then the car
passed by "whoosh"went the car,and the air that followed in it's wake.
I looked and the little worm was safe this time and as he resumed his
journey,Tiko and I watched him a little more,then I knew we had to also
continue on with our journey.
Then as I walked I thought about this wonder God let me see today
I thought we all have a journey in life,and God in his wisdom had showed
me this little worm against all odds,had made it to the other side of the
road,and like the little worm on the highway there are dangers all along our
way but like the little fuzzy worm,we all need to take this journey,even
knowing crossing life paths and crossroads can be dangerous,but we
all know God still holds us in his hands,and after all if he can take care
of one of his tiny creatures in his care,even little fuzzy worms,I felt tears
come to my eyes,as I knew just how much he loves every thing he created,
and knowing God watches over us on our journey of life,and as he
lifts us up so this journey thru life will be a safer place to travel.
I sure hope that fuzzy little worm got thru his tiny journey
safely........
In the setting sun the Sioux Tepees look like vandalized pyramids,
the Tetons themselves appear as though angels raped
by the savagery of centuries yet noble in barbaric beauty and warrior ethos,
a Scalp Dance is begun, torches up high on the outside
a bonfire big and heavy be the center spirit,
the drums awaken from the caves of ancestral courage
and the voices of a thousand Mothers plead for the pride of their sons,
drumbeats raise the heartbeats into the heat of glory
as the rattles rake the mind with the cost of blood,
warriors enter the pit with bravery to prove and fate to appease
feet pound the earth and scalps shake on power rods
the currency of victories swing wide and thunder smacks the stars,
Afterwards, Chief Partisan presents us with squaws
pretty in young passion and fertile to the touch,
there is a custom of strength transfer through intercourse
they desire the seed of our spirit,
indulging in their spells of native kiss could leave us vulnerable
to capture or even assassination
we can't afford to be reckless in pleasure or mindless of morals,
I am unwilling to father a hybrid pioneer amongst a probable enemy,
embracing these temptresses gowned in scanty furs
could even politically bind us to the Teton against their traditional adversaries,
we must avoid inciting intertribal conflict at this juncture,
Morning has arrived with a think fast attitude
the messages between our nations is unequivocal
the Teton are intractable in their belief of invincible independence,
they have their arsenal, warriors, and horses,
feeling that they own the thunder and the fear of their neighbors,
the Chinese and New York fur markets
along with taxing river passage have to date guaranteed them wealth
and the British have armed them for profit,
however, the arrowheads of the United States are aimed to strike their arteries
and we won't stop until they bleed out into oblivion,
the Sioux shenanigans have resumed as we gather up and get ready to push off,
exasperated, we convince Black Buffalo that it behooves him
to persuade his people to let us leave without hostilities
and they do as we toss them some tobacco sticks,
once on Destiny, anchor up,
the southerly winds lift our vessels towards autumn's genesis,
J.A.B.
One day my dragon, discovered how to read; whomever taught him, is anyone’s guess. Once he discovered historical novels; none of us would rest. Night and day, he inhaled words; great fiction, based on fact. Then one day, our power went out; his world, it just went black.
For eight long days endured; we could hardly see but, the hardest thing to take was dragon’s anxiety. “What sort of world is this?” He shouted furiously; “where nothing works, not even lamps; oh no, I cannot read!” We tried our best to calm him; during his rants and raves; it seemed a good idea, but dragon paid no heed.
“I want my books; I have to read!” Screamed dragon, as he cried. His elephant tears soaked carpets; so great was his novel need; we tried to scrounge up candles, matches and the like; but he complained, his head, it ached, from reading in dim light.
Then he had an idea; it was a shocking fright. “My flames,” he said, “Are brighter, than any man made light.” Talk about your lead-ball-drop; our stomachs, it did pierce. “You’ll have to read out in the rain,” we warned him, “not in here.”
The idea didn’t appeal to him and so, he soon conceded; oh, we were so happy, when he did; no father warnings were needed. Then an idea bloomed in me; of which I did relay; perhaps old dragon could be appeased; by some books on tape! So, I went to gramp’s library and borrowed all I could; he loved reading like dragon; before he’d lost his sight. I must’ve pulled 500 tapes from his bookshelves of cedar wood.
Now grump’s; somewhat of a hoarder; leant me half his batteries and an ancient old tape player; dragon gave a crushing hug, when I returned home later. I spread the tapes upon the table; and dragon’s eyes grew with delight; to proportion’s that I’d never seen on him; that very night.
When power finally was restored, to our neighborhood; dragon resumed reading books; his anxiety, gone for good. I vowed that such, would never occur again and I did my research thoroughly, days on the web, I’d spend. I researched every reader; every mp3 and book; dragon was so happy with his new technology. A couple of extra batteries; I’d bought and kept recharged; for downloading stories, I bought him, a pre-paid visa card.
In spite of the way I was doomed in the past
I might have resumed all my duties at last
The ship captain's daughter who killed for a lark
Was tossed overboard in the path of a shark
The captain himself made a pitch in the punch
For helping the witch who was having my lunch
The bulk of the pirates were sure I was dead
The captain was second-in-line to be fed
I learned of his fate from an old pirate mate
A scurvy old sailor who thought I was great
A stable companion when we were at sea
Who seemed rather stunned by the image of me
He thought I returned as a spirit or ghost
Or maybe the wrath of a watery host
The image of someone who died for the harm
Of hurting the lady who fell for his charm
He cried like a baby to learn I was real
And not merely someone who died as a meal
The friend that he knew by the fact I was kind
A gentleman pirate with nothing in mind
The captain was dead, so he offered himself
To serve in his stead from the top of the shelf
The pirates were pleased so they voted him in
To serve by the curve of his broad, toothy grin
I asked my old friend if the couple they tried
Were found to be fit or just fit to be tied
He told me the captain was mad as a hatter
And even his daughter was no laughing matter
The lady was grinning when you made a splash
She said that you died when they took out the trash
We stared at each other and said this can't be
That pirates and shipmates should die stupidly
The captain was drunk when he made his mistake
But when you are sunk there is no second take
He plead for his life and he plead for his daughter
We fed them on board and we fed them in water
When learning of late that my captain was dead
I turned from my mate and I lowered my head
The man was reduced by the last of his brood
But no one alive should be treated as food
I knew that my life as a pirate was done
When I was a fool in the course of my fun
The future of pirates on land may be dim
But even a pirate should know how to swim
So many brave pirates who plunder in wigs
Are trading the sea for a cow and some pigs
My life as a pirate is what I love best
But even a pirate must bury his chest...
Bountiful harvest
God’s supply of golden grains
Blessings* midst dearth’s gloom!
*Genesis 49:25 Even by the God of thy father, who shall help thee; and by the Almighty, who shall bless thee with blessings of heaven above...
May 27, 2018
3rd place, "Magicicada" Haiku Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Maureen McGreavy; judged on 6/15/2018.
Article for Sportsfest 2025, Contenders for the Faith.
All glory and praise belong to our savior for the great jubilant victory that was wrought upon all of the participants of Baptist Heritage Bible College, godly fun and joyful games as well as hearing of the Word of God was done on September 2-3, wherein BHBC celebrated it’s annual sportsfest with the theme “Contenders for the Faith” anchored upon Jude 3 which declares “Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you of the common salvation, it was needful for me to write unto you, and exhort you that ye should earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints.” All participants were divided into 4 groups, namely: Committed Caleb, Cautious Gideon, Courageous Joshua and Confident Joseph.
On the first day, a short program was prepared. Wherein students and participating faculty members marched while singing “Victory in Jesus” led by our Pastor. After which, a special number was rendered by the sportsfest leaders and assistant leaders. Students along with some other faculty and staff were exhorted by our very own Dr. Ed M. Laurena, to be diligent in the faith and to contend for it, and the program ended with the commencement of the games.
And on the last day before the games were resumed, a short devotion was prepared by Pastor. Christian Fundano, that as contenders, we ought to have strong courage in winning souls, a strong compassion for the lost, and strong consistency in our daily worship with the Lord. A special number “Living by Faith” was rendered by the sportsfest secretaries. Games and good food were enjoyed by all; after that, they had a awarding ceremony and the event closed with joyous feasting and picture taking. To God be all the glory!
Elsie Marley was a playful, middle child, with five sparkling siblings,
Living on emerald, Willow Brook Farm, underneath skies very citron.
Everyone in the family lent a hand, at skillfully managing their farm.
At twelve years old, Elsie joined in, like golden bees, flower charmed.
Every fleeting day was the same as the last, yet magically different;
Like when a rainbow touches jade grass, and blazing sun is imminent.
Fantastic friends made school days fun, in the flitting, youthful hours;
With life as fresh and fabulous as spring, or as rainfall scented flowers.
Farmers sowed in fine, fragrant furrows, when cherry blossoms rained;
And family came calling, in flurries of petals, where red robin reigned.
Elsie lived in the house of doorways, of children going and coming in;
In a tumult of joyous colors; like pink moon nights, of purple martins.
Lyric larks were ever listened to, along jade, foliate, Strawberry Lane;
Located at Willow Brook's lauded south border, like love that remains.
Elsie's favorite neighbors were Naomi and Nadia, very near to her age;
Who playfully imitated being princesses, like red roses at center stage.
Careless bugleweeds were blowing, in deep, violet shades of summer;
When candytuft plants gave sweet thrills, like the flash of blue thunder.
Cupid's dart blooms went right to the heart, to the beat of raven wings;
And dame's rocket launched nighttime scents, to hear nightingale sing.
Elsie grew negligent of her mundane chores, as princesses did not work;
And her dismayed siblings picked up the slack, like dawn's redbird chirp.
But Elsie waked one day, to words that shamed her, spoken by her sister;
Like an onyx shadow, retreating hastily, once mellow sun has kissed her!
Nan told Sue, 'Elsie Marley is grown so fine, She won't get up to feed the swine,
But lies in bed till eight or nine. Lazy Elsie Marley.' Truth can be unkind!
Elsie resumed the role of dutiful sister and daughter, to her family's relief,
Coming to see all girls are princesses, like a vast garden's colorful motif.