Long Rolling Poems
Long Rolling Poems. Below are the most popular long Rolling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rolling poems by poem length and keyword.
I have unfurled my brolly
Turned it top to tail
Launched it on the ocean
And I’m going for a sail
Across the mystic oceans
Across the rolling sea
Sailing for Japanland
My faithful brolly and me
And I shall wave to any dolphin
Blow a kiss to any whale
As I weave my way landwards
On my mystic sail
Flying fish escort me
Leaping in and out
Rising from the water
Darting herethere and about
For they’ve never seen a brolly
As Ocean going as mine
Swordfish salute me
In a pristine line
Great Albatross do guide me
Gliding serenely overhead
Mother Carey’s Children
Take night watch in their stead
Sailing for Japanland
To drink a Geisha tea
On our greatest voyage
Granny Barker’s brolly and me
I have unfurled my brolly
Turned it top to tail
Launched it on the ocean
And I’m going for a sail
It feels like daylight is running in front of me with a radiant light brighter than the sea and a truck full of almond piled up in the yard while the chipmunks are shouting from abroad. I see some running about the yard and rolling their big eyes at me, some are running up the almond tree looking for a place to start their family.
The chipmunks can sing, and they can compose beautiful hymns, they can write modern music with their mouths and when they group together, they stand out; sometimes they have a strange look on their face and they are telling you when it is time to get out of the way. They come in beautiful colors and they are dressed up in shoes, you can see them faltering around with a staff and a crown and their long tails twist up in gowns.
It feels like daylight is walking in front of me with an I phone, an I pad and four giant cameras standing on a tripod position across the stream and the crew unloading equipment from the truck to shoot the next scene.
The cast is strolling in filling up the village to the brim; strange faces of all races occupy the town. A huge burden is lifted and something feels different when diverse cultures are at work and you are walking around in brand new skirt.
I felt somewhat elated, bridging the gap to wear a new cap, the philosophy of traditional time was not taught in colleges and universities but by ordinary men hanging out in the market places and under trees, having an ordinary dialogue but they were profound and philosophical.
Plato, Aristotle, Socrates, Pythagoras, and them were all friends. It was through those idle conversations the arts were born, it was from this idle chat the math's and science gave birth.
Mankind’s quest for answer could not be found in words, it was from the epoch of the soul that write those facts and manifest themselves in formulas and illustration that solve the world’s problem.
The genius of all ages is found in modern acts with a notable transformation from traditional sects to modern time. It is time to get out of your comfort zone and join the line.
It feels like daylight is shouting in my face and it’s time to enter the big race.
There she stood with tears rolling down her face and cheeks
Looking downward – such innocence – mild and meek
Her first trip to the slaughter house was no joke
Proved to be a one-sick hoax!
Slowly but surely – she told us the story
Leaving out NOT the gory!
“I was asked by dad
To join him fast
To pick out a chicken
“O Good Riddens!
At last – no fret
I’m picking out my very first pet!”
Is what I thought
When my breath I caught!
So, with joy in my heart,
And exuberant glee at start
I singled out the healthiest plump!
The attendant let out a little grunt
Roughly taking the chicken outback
She grunted sternly: ‘Wait Right here…I’ll be right back!’
With one quick twist
Of her hand and wrist
The chicken’s neck she snapped in half.
Mortified I stood on the chicken’s behalf!
Speechless, I stood - so panic-stricken
Horrified and mortified because of the chicken!
With no further delay
To my dismay
I was handed a bag
While the attendant let out a mischievous laugh!
From this day forward, I shall live to fret
Of what occurred to my chicken-pet
And live forever with my regret
Of visiting the Old Chicken Coup
All for mom’s LIVE Chicken Soup…?
Virgil the virgin was eagerly urging
his girlfriend to make him a man
Had nowhere private to go get excited
so he bought an old caravan
The seller in Dover said it’s been checked over
it’s actually ready to take
He took his word for it as soon as he saw it
so he didn’t check the handbrake
Parked up on a hill, played safe, took a pill
He’s sure she’ll succumb to his begs
But he wasn’t able to make the van stable
He forgot to wind down the legs
But soon getting fruity with his little cutie
The van was rock rocking all day
She cried out for more then they fell to the floor
And the van began rolling away
Sped up as it rolled down a hill that was holed
And each pothole made his girl Yelp
She clearly approved and cried out ‘The earth moved
Those little blue pills really help’
But at the cliff top the van didn’t stop
And she snuggled into him sighing
He gave her a kiss and said ‘I’ll tell you this
Baby I feel like I’m flying’
Prayer Shawl
When summer nights are christened
With chanting crickets –
Last of their summer season song -
Rolling fields of ripening wheat - east of the mountains -
Revisit my mind;
I picture a young woman – suitcase in hand –
Walking away – not looking back –
Face toward a city by the Sound
Leaving fields in echoes of youth
On a journey of one thousand miles.
I walked the journey that she walked,
Suitcase in hand,
The solitary path
That knew the touch of her footsteps
But came from forests evergreen
To hear her crickets
Chant the same symphonies
Abiding in a new home
Bounded by the ocean’s roar
And golden foothills.
She – my Naomi;
I, her Ruth
Embraced upon the crossroads,
Sharing secrets of strawberries
Made into sweet jam;
Where she went
I followed,
Not always in agreement,
As we gleaned new amber fields
Of poppies arm in arm.
To my sorrowing,
The time
When she would again journey
In footsteps
I could not walk
Whispered
An approaching call –
A bugle
With its plaintive sound
Left an echo in her dreams.
One last gift –
A shawl of comfort
For the chill of autumn days -
To remember journeys -
Summer warmth passing,
Yellow colored as the spring
Her favorite
Knit in a loving circle
By words of prayer -
Joined in loops of affection
The time to part
Came quietly
Amid December’s celebrations;
On a still Noel night
She left – no suitcase in hand –
Covered just before she embarked
By my shawl knit with blessings -
All dressed up in prayer -
To be embraced by eternity
In sunshine yellow hues.
No one
Should journey
Back to the eternal
Without a yellow prayer shawl.
Somehow,
Those empty eyes
staring back through the glass
They just seem to laugh
At all that I am.
And they seem to see
The person I wish I could be
But somewhere,
Beyond the reflection
Is a soul
Who doesn't know
Who, even, they could be
If their head was filled with dreams
Instead of physical fantasies
That tells them they're ugly
Never will be pretty enough
Never be good enough
Just a horrible catastrophe
An endless rhapsody
A drying, dead
Never-again-to-be beautiful city
though Drowning in a hurricane
Of it's very own tears
Sinking in an ocean
Of similar sorrow
Of which no one knows
Convinced she is alone
And must not stray from such a narrative
Forever stuck in this imperative
In this day which holds all of it's resentment
Close to it's core
And won't relent it
Even when it is known what is being done
"All the more fun!" it cries
All the more fun...
Even when it is clear
The depression has won
The green keeps rolling as the salty seas keep flowing
The harsh greed seeping into the sea
Convincing Wants to be Needs
Perfect and clear,
But still no one wants to be near
The river in which my soul has died
Laid to rest, now, that so hated body
Finally finding a home in the tide
With the many before
And surely the many after
The tomb of dead laughter
Feeding on walking disasters
Like I
And many more
Who let themselves be sold
On the idea of perfection
As the building block to affection
That never felt deserved
Look now, what we've learned
Look, now,
the end we've earned
Sometimes I think i should try,
Should spread my wings and fly
Soar through a cloud as a spirit so free
With land below, all the sights I see
Diving towards the earth below
Spread my wings out catching air causing me to slow
Leveling out and quickly shooting away barely above ground
Wind whistling as I flew a soul unbound
Over a lake I trail fingers through crystal clear waters so cold
Feeling freedom in untold
A slight shift of wings back up so high I flew
Wings soaring damp with the morning Dew
Catching up with an eagle, together we rode the updrafts so high
My whole being was one with the sky
Back through another cloud we flew just for luck
So high we went coming to float just briefly then the wings we tuck
Falling back to earth trusting to luck
Closed my eyes free falling from the heavens I plunged gathering speed
Faster and faster I felt the need
Reaching for the feeling of fearlessly falling so free
Then catching an updraft I carelessly began barrel rolling across the sunlit sky
So full of the joy I did cry
Freedoms ultimate glory floating across skies so
blue
That eagle and I racing going going cloud to cloud as if it were a thrilling game of hide and go seek
The eagle took a peek
Screeched his good bye he went on his way
Catching a jet wave I had spread out my wings just resting in flight
Saw cities so far below glistening from the morning light
Time catches up I feel so
Free
No beautiful a sight did I ever see
Watching the set of the days sun
Just telling of the day now done
Announcing the arrival of night
With the coming of evening came the end of my glorious flight
Flying back across the evening sky
Back across the the distance that I like to fly
across area I liked to play and roam
Across the empty sky to home
Back to my chair where always did sit alone
To quietly ponder all I was shown
You are challenging to keep up with
Mr. Stone,
Yep??
Was it difficult to lose weight
Since your rolling stone success?
Yep?
Since you came rock bottom in the skimming
Are you feeling bolder in the skipping?
Yep
Does winning mean leaving no stone unturned?
Yep?
Is the public in awe of your success?
Yep
Are you down to earth?
Do you use mineral supplements?
Yep, yep,
Are you petrified?
Are you still friends with paper?
Scissors?
May I call you Skip?
You rock!
Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep.
It ain’t heavy Babe
Writing lines so soft they can never be heavy.
Driving along in my Beetle; dreaming about a Chevy.
Time to begin again; getting ready.
Lovin’ ain’t as easy as they all say it is.
Still I’m heading out west, looking for something steady.
Been rolling my whole life through, with love on my mind.
I’ve climbed every hill that stood in my way,
And I sank into every ditch that I could find.
My heart is a heart-seeker, but my lovin’ eyes have been blind.
I believed in the unbelievable; wasted so much time.
Could have been a contender,
If only I had the talent to succeed.
I could have made something of myself,
If only I knew just what to do with this plasticine.
Sang songs of love and sang songs of hate.
It all took every piece of me.
Wrote poems about my every day, every day
And all my nights and in all my dreams,
But still I am left here waiting, praying for her love.
Love is a boulder, upon my shoulders,
And I’m feeling heavy…
Maybe I should do something good.
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Her nature was gentle, and as soft as the rain
A butterfly so fragile, with procelin skin
Fragrant blossom, nectar sweet
Bathed in humbled innocence...
Entrapment came regaled in white
With western charms, this wasp would sting
He picked this budding branch with false intent
His kisses spent, upon her dainty cheeks
So into bliss she flew, caught by wily arms
and promises of love, with no intent to keep
With fickle breath he stole her heart
And played the part without a thought, without a care
He was an actor upon this stage....the cage
a nuptial made as thin as air
He said farewell, with lies and smiles
To sail awhile, across the rolling seas
Leaving needles in her heart
Her frail wings pierced upon the day
And when those falsehoods sailed, her love impaled
While far away, he spent his charms in other arms
Her face would stare upon the tides
Her eyes would cry soliloquies
Her song would yearn...would he return?
Her trust swept into waves...
And then a year or more would pass,
The child she bore, stood by her side...
And still love lasts, and while she waits, the ocean breeze
would carry on, those restless seas, the haunting song ....
Would carry on and on....she calls.........she calls his name...
With futile hopes to ease her pain
Her shame to learn the truth, and then to finally learn
Another shore......another bride!!
Another shore......another bed......to learn such truth...the final dread!
She cannot lift her head...the loss....the pain.....! OH! Hide thy face!
Oh! Such disgrace...an honor black with shame
What cannot be erased.......too much is dead!
Her death will free the fragile wings
Upon her knees, the final bend
By her own hand......her father's knife
Will take the life of Butterfly. BUTTERFLY!! Butterfly! ....butterfly!....
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("Man's love of his life a thing apart............'Tis woman's whole existence")