Long Riffle Poems
Long Riffle Poems. Below are the most popular long Riffle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Riffle poems by poem length and keyword.
Rhythm, rhyme, and resonance.
Riddle, riffle through.
Red run roundabout? Last chance.
Buried deep in blue.
Stifle, sound of silence?
Better not ask why.
Victory bequeaths violence!
Somebody must die!
Pool up, silk thread, on my spool.
Thunder, fly at once.
Help the boy to keep it cool!
Goblin, grinning, guns!
Tyrant of the ancient waste?
How does success taste?
O ye virgins, art thou chaste?
Turkey legs a-baste!
Lobbied for, O hobby? When?
Now or then again?
Gods of death, a death! Try ten.
Dragon, from thy den...
Rattlesnake, thy timber.
Cone of volcano.
Hurry, Blizzard! Cause shiver!
Bloom, thy bungalow.
Dun the skies on Martian soil.
Fate, must we embroil?
O ye serpents, thus to coil!
Water hot to boil...
Figure eight? It's gotten late.
All men hate to wait.
Cross the desert or the strait?
Limestone gone to plate!0
#Repetition_of_irremediable_calamity
Stare the dark gloomed space of shooting casanovas, blurred with shades of karma, coated with deja vu, I was here the mind says, my hands mired with more dirt, contaminating my hard work and effort to never to pass through this hind streets of lingering pain and regrets, a rotational oozing of ghostlike tormenting shadows of my yesterday, and feel pacing in slow motion in this circles of no exits, no matter the effort pores punches all over my hope, feel drowning, suffocating and my soul ebbing, dilating in volumes I can't contain any further
My calamity takes everything out of me, regret there be nothing to identify me with, after it's taking, invisible blows shatters me from every direction, how can I not give in when I too was made from the very dust of this earth, a human like the rest
Here I'm tested to never rise again or to man up and prove the naysayers and those who have written me off even before my birth, spirit lead my me to faith without borders, pass me a riffle to eleminate every doubt before me, face up, faith on, and irremediable is just a word in my calamity
#Poetic_Ink
I hasten to place much faith in idle talk
Reality tells me i am never getting out of here
Rather I am destined to die here
Beside these other condemned band of brother's
This sorry War friends has forced upon me to rely
Word has filtered through the end is nigh
But though false dawns may lift the spirits
Of the uninitiated
A seasoned second tour trench institutionalized vetran
I remember this more than my walls and streets of home
And what if the rumors are to be proved true
I Fear the Man I shall Return
Is no longer the carefree Boy who Left
Another lifetime ago
How am I to live out my Day's
Knowing now what I have seen and done
For King and Country
My Sunny Valentine has been replaced by my Riffle
And the reflection in my polished bayonet
Bounces off my tin helmet
I inherited from some poor soldier never going home
Make what sense of the following sentence
You must
I will be sad to leave this place of untold misery
Come that Day
Saying Goodbye will be paved with raw despair
For so many other reasons than those we lost
Along the way
You asked a boy to buy into this War
And now I stand before you a Soldier Sir
It isn't fair Sir
Please don't send me back Sir
This is all I know now
I love the way the shell's fall darkening the Sky
Exploding into shrapnel furness plumes of Death
The Mud
The smell of human faces
The bloodied broken bones
Blown into a thousand piece's
I am so accustomed now
I think Id miss shell shock
Once more over the top please Sir
The War isn't won or over yet
And Sir
I am not ready to go home just yet
VASILY ZAYTSEV
As nature took me back into times,
To witness sadden and heroic events filled with cries, It was very soul engulfing that I couldn’t stand to witness,
But was compelled by purpose to attend.
Old time landed me safely at STARLINGARD
I beheld a sniper riffle upon a raised platform,
The shooter as I approached diminished,
And I couldn’t say something to him,
I followed my way from starlingard,
Up to YELENINSKOYE ORENBURG, There the story began.
Songs were heard in a family,
A son came into the cosmo,
With a saddened task facing him,
Unknown was it to him,
Destiny and fate moulded him in,
That was VASILY ZAYTSEV The hero of Starlingard.
Gradually he grew into a finetaker,
Tracked down a wolf with only a bullet as a kid he was satisfied, Without a view of his role in Starlingard,
Due to Hitler's territorial conquest.
Troops marching out in thousands,
Outnumbering the alluvial sands,
The hope of the world was towards Starlingard,
Since the soviet union subdued by Hitler.
Starlingard became a stronghold,
Because of the undying spirit of men in the patriotic war.
Assigned to the 1047th Riffle Regiment,
Vasily was the pride of the company which later was named 62nd army at Starlingard,
That was on 17th September 1942,
Vasily started shooting around the axis
Zealous as he was on the battlefield,
A sniper concealing his locations,
Covering a large area from three positions, Known as the "sixies" up till today.
Killing 11 scores plus armed men including 11 snipers. Making It 32 axis killings.
Undiluted spirit of enthusiasm,
Towards conquering enemies at the gates,
Manifested by his perfect shootings,
Calculating the bearings of directions of his sniper,
Diminishing enemies until he conquered,
To him there was no land beyond the ''VOLGA''
ANYABOLU IFEANYI GENTLE
Sometimes, I cannot help but sigh
and wonder--
wonder deep inside of me
whether I could ever be like you.
I riffle through the pages of my soul
and find a lot of them empty
Unlike yours, which seem to be bursting, blinding,
bursting, and still continuing to burst with brilliance...
So much so,
that your soul's light
has spread far and wide,
very much like sunlight's fingers
opening the morning sky curtains,
touching and warming
those who need it.
Tanglaw
Each step that you take,
each breath that you exhale,
each prayer that you whisper,
each beat of your heart
Tanglaw
I receive a smile,
and chat
with that man
who you've helped change...
Because of you,
the silent man now speaks, smiles.
You sit down to rest,
I see you talking to someone,
and I am almost fooled,
since you seem like old friends.
Because of you,
the lonely strangers become kindred.
It mystifies me sometimes,
of how you never seem to get tired.
It seems like I am the one who gets tired for you,
who gets worried for your own strength...
Then I see that glow from all around,
and I am reminded how you glean from this glow.
I see you as this beautiful ball of energy--
Never static,
bouncing from soul to soul,
illuminating parts of themselves
that even they never knew existed.
It is so amazing seeing this at work,
since the next thing I know,
the place is lit up,
Alive.
...and it is all because of you.
It makes me feel unworthy at times,
but oh how it also makes me feel so proud,
that I am a part of you,
and you are a part of me.
I have a lot of catching up to do,
since it seems I am lightyears from where you are
But I will try.
I will catch the tail end of your light,
clutch to it with my life, winding it around me,
let it embrace me--tight, so tight.
And I will never let it go. Never.
Until I also begin to glow.
Until I too, become that ball of light.
Hopefully when someone
riffles through the pages of my soul,
they will not find it blank,
but filled with gilt pages of light.
Just like yours.
Bursting and brilliant just like yours.
Tanglaw is pronounced "tang-lao"
Where I live, mothers are said to be the "light of the home"...
Hindered by the depth and breadth of winter
Cliffs dangle just outside the bungalow
With clear icicle mysteries remote
Hanging over shingles for dear life
Inside, imprisoned safe and sound
The hunter counts his rounds of ammunition
Riffle nestled useless by the common fire side
No chasing prey this season
Sleep takes its place
Why shoot the snow without a reason
It would only blow around and settle somewhere else
Outside the storm brings misery
Three feet of snow to block the door
Wind rattles windows to claw inside
The cabin remains remote, imprisoned
Embedded in the snow
More inches rise with no where else to hide
But down on frozen lakes on powder blue
Cold holds on to banks of solid earth
All those inches piled high for what
Filling up the landscape with so much white
Pines cling on to memory of ice below the tundra line
Like all good trees they freeze but never die
Over sleeping keeps the bears in dens
No need for hunting them
It would only mean their end
The realization of how quickly drifts can rise
Accumulations conspired by cruel natures wrath
Shear numbers of snow flakes conspire
Wind and sky hold up the nights good-bye
Now stuck inside the simple shelter fixed
Winter bound, oats are hunters sustenance, companion
Along with tea and lemon, honey makes the best of company
Will see him through to doomsday, till things turn about
Closed in on times advances
A captive audience of one
Now waits in winter wonder
On snowy mountain counting down the hours
Royal blue sky scattered sapphire clouds
On horizon embroidered in navy blue attire
Summoned by the onset of marigold sun
Emitting amber gold on tuscan yellow fire
Where tapestry of fluffy lavender floats
Decorating patterns of designs periwinkle
Mosaic of colors then spray-paint the water
Spreading a layer of golden yellow cover
Shimmering gold dust on twilight ripples
Abutting brushstrokes of dark blue egyptian
I saw you briefly where first time we met
On the lonely bridge that extends into bay
But as the dark landmass peeked its head
And the lifeless vegetation glinted despair
The tangerine breeze announced your exit
Quivering our aura beneath glittering riffle
For you refused to witness impending flame--
Broken vows ablaze in last breath of sunset
Written: August 4, 2018
Submitted on February 6, 2023 to:
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Submitted on December 7, 2022 To:
Placed 3rd: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Poem of the day on August 7, 2018
Placed first in standard contest #180 by Brian Strand
With the weak November sun
and high treed bank
the deep dark pool waters
reflect no light nor sign
of silver fish beneath the surface
Silent save for the murmur
of a downstream riffle
and the kingfisher’s rattle
then a tug on my line
the screech of the reel’s drag
a splash, a glimpse of a fresh steelhead
The tug now a frantic upstream run
I bite my lip and taste my blood
then my line goes slack, the fish is free
and the reel stem cold between my fingers
¦¦¦¦ in the ebb and flow
¦¦¦ my dreams ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ in mind,
Humbly ¦¦¦¦¦¦ you will find
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ a gleam that's true
To ¦¦¦ dreams ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ in you.
¦¦¦¦¦¦ my lines ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ with rhyme
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ deem them worth ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ I think ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ your kindly thought,
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ words ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ fit your taste.
Please ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
Riffle ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ in ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ just a glance,
Give ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ a chance . . .
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ readers who
Tune to them,--may ¦¦¦ be you!
(Blackout of LEnvoi by Robert William Service)
Thoughts of nothingness embrace the moonlight
caress the emptiness of pilfered light
drape it across the meadows in dull gray
to light a path for lover’s gone astray --
as crafty shadows hide their sin from sight.
A distant riffle mourns the tree strung kites
that never lived the dreams they thought they might
for something on the wind made them betray --
Thoughts of nothingness…
Cold stars will mock the stillness of their plight
as on a crooked moon their tears alight
to haunt a saddened mist upon the bay
adrift upon a tide that could not stay
but edges ever closer with moon’s height.
Thoughts of nothingness…
©4/19/2022
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