Long Rotunda Poems
Long Rotunda Poems. Below are the most popular long Rotunda by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rotunda poems by poem length and keyword.
At the capitol rotunda
Two senators faced off on
Gun rights versus oversight
Each side bunkered in
Intractable, their way to win
Sharp tongued irate debate
Open thinking went kerplunk
Head to head, noses pressing
Like two rams rutting
One grabbed a neck
The other ruffled hair
Both leaned into a scrum
Onlookers aghast
Heavy breathing, jackets flung
Ties askew, faces flushed
Veins a popping
Fists were clenched, my heart pounding
Spit and foam tossed about
Two old mad dogs yelping
Spin left once, then spin right
Round and round these two locked
Like a chopper blade taking off
Leather shoes and legs flyin'
Scuffing on slippery rotunda floor
Lots have slithered across before
Muffled echoes off the walls
Don't think a punch was thrown
Guards ran in to break the spin
Pull the swirl apart
Just like a gooey sticky bun
'Cept it weren't no fun
Hands grasping foe to foe
Darts of insults still flashing
Reddened eyes, teeth gnashing
Heads adjoined they'd go
Caught their breath, stood up straight
Falling back into friendly hands
Mumbled shards yet flying
They walked away slumping
Like two Humpty Dumptys
Disheveled putting themselves together
Each insisting they were "kerrect"
With hastened breath
I saw it all unfold
Watchers shuffling in doubt
As they usually do
It was a war, weren't no spat
They'll never forget, count on that
See it all on the evening news
Did it change each other's views?
Can we ever talk civilly?
Common Ground is the Solution
So that was yesterday's kerfuffle
Adjudicated by muscle
Feet meander through their slow walks
on damp benches along the rotunda ...
an elderly pair grips the stem of their
parasol , inhaling the breath of dusky wisps,
as if the gray of their tresses
holds the seams of hours watching
this evening turn inky blue...
And when the fog releases tangy flavor,
the man closes his eyes with his palm...
and a single tear drips as night becomes
quiet-- in this instance, the wife points
to stars evanescing until they both
relish the glory of seasons owned
through decades crowning their long life.
MARCH 2017 PREMIER CONTEST: Brian Strand
Repost 3/17/2017
Cabernet wings fluttering
in a house of mirrors.
The rotunda of cheers,
just below the lip,
above the murkiness
of a hospitality sip.
Double dip nights,
halfway through
conversation of the past;
the sate of emotional till;
tears flutter unexpectedly.
Wings of quietude,
coalesce inside the glass,
humoring an aunt and niece.
Chasing away this insect-bird,
this apparition of Green Valley.
Kin covers the glasses
with smiles, lips and palms.
Harrowing moments attach
themselves to memories,
cleverly; the moment itself
vanishes, or does it remain
an infinity ring,
a nimbus of forever light
and love in a holy place.
Dances with eagles in skinny oxygen
Silence is regal, time is an abstract
I humbly look up, at your majestic existence
So still, so cold, so proud, but so much like me…
So timid in the slap of the Northern winds
So in love with love
So much shaken by earthquakes of Human Nature grinning in colliding
plateaus with deep faults.
In the blind of darkness I only have your secret, inner warmth
Lava of our Souls perforates geological barriers,
Layer after layer of memories of past lives…remember?
Our underwater games, the Raising above our Black Sea level
The playful puffs of steaming magma cooling off dreams into Reality…
I see dances of eagles shooed by a deafening propeller
I float in a basket above you: I AM THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD !!!
…and I can fly in the eternity and beyond!!!
You remain smiling coldly , nostalgically still, endlessly Majestic
As I become smaller, and smaller, and smaller
In a minuscule Black Hole where mountains become Gods
As I turn into a still, cold, and proud abstract
in the Rotunda of my childhood Gardens back home…
for John's Contest
Everything seems to fit
into this morning's
vast mosaic as if each
piece has been shaped
to occupy a given place.
Even the broken sea shells
that first appeared redundant,
strewn haphazardly
along the beach
now give pause and interest
to the sands otherwise
featureless reach.
Trees occupy their allotted
space, the rotunda claims
its usual ground and clouds drift
the wide freedom of the sky.
Silence cups like an ear
to receive the days
waking sounds and in a corner
where the pier slots so neatly
into the sea, small boats bob
about in their moorings
overlooked by a hollow made
in air that seems to fit
my contours just perfectly.
I don't like to brag, but I've seen it all
The virginal Springs, the legends of Fall
Where whispering pines, meet towering peaks
And raging rivers, raise babbling creeks
A fresh forest glade, festooned with fauna
Hot bubbling waters, nature's own sauna
Swam the Tasman Sea, hiked along the Nile
Even met a wretch, walking "his" green mile
Once I played the Met, and jammed with the Stones
Then won a big bet, while rolling the bones
Met the self-righteous, who claims to be right
And basked with the meek, who shines a true light
From Rome's Rotunda and Phlegraean Fields
To Chinese lanterns and Japanese shields
Sailed the Seven Seas, been around the Horn
Watched a nation die, watched a nation born.
I've seen followers and leaders of men
I've met the Pope, forgiving my sin
Saw too many rich, degrading the poor
I've stood at Hell's gate, passed through Heaven's door
I've traveled the moon, the stars in the sky
I've charmed the Devil, making Angels cry
Like I said before, I don't like to brag
Here's a toast to ME, waving my own flag!
Time journeyed through the seasons sublime
Brokered days the trellis of life did climb
Tendered hours but grainy shards without rhyme
Token minutes spindled through the hour glass of time
Each tenuous second garnering only a passing stime
Bartered moments the continuum of existence did wantonly prime
Availing sky's porous rotunda filtered each, ageless ream through spectrum so fine
The hoary sun spilled it's vision into each, vacuous line
Gilded moon, celestial mariner did shadowy expanse twine
Bended stars, twinkling sprites from stealthy perch did antediluvian streams re-align
Primeval planets in their sanctioned orbits perpetuity did assign
Raft branch buoyed in canopy crossroad
Ocelot pillow paws rail rainforest rotunda
Yataghan claws trail trunk, track cathode
Assailant arouse pounces, stiff tail rudder
Lithe, while night looms, lightspeed silent
Ogling exotic shores - she yanks anchor
Centipede nimble Queen needs her tiara
Evermore adorned, baubles bean arabica
Lustrous pearl dozes on dark décolletage
Opulent moon mother of tides, sly tyrant
Tortures subordinates to claim her island
Iridescent iris treasure hunt sailor ocelot
Spotted sea captain keeps snake for halo
Lapis lazuli exclusively steers royal yacht
Asphyxiating prey, Casper crouch lay low
Navigating her way to throne, puss pirate
Drapes cashmere ears in conquest crown
Nautical Nineteenth November
EXTRAVAGANZA
designed
to
illuminate
a spectacle
or
into
a
visual
metaphor
of spaces
within
experience
spectacles
of
comparable
phenomena
circle
a panorama
of of
melodramatic
rotunda
a prominent
pantomine
of instinct
preserved
an accessory
to
augment
reality
&
motivate
a
narrative
conception
in
a
perfect
tangible
tactile
replica
in
all
dimensions
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
1. Facing life courageously with eyes downcast
happiness and peace not part of the forecast
amidst proud siblings, the only one timid
uncertainty in the air, densely humid
fine drink for all but taking a thimbleful
for true protection, the gods get my handful
glued to excuses and flaws of temperaments
leaving the ungodly to make side comments.
Chorus
I run to the highest hills
I hide in the deepest caves
I put my trust on strong men
I breath the words of great kings
When I stumble and fall down
Jesus alone gives His hand
[Repeat]
2. Powers of men become diversionary
many unreal strengths, claiming to tonify
following masked demons to drop in centers
to acquire, to hold but nowhere rustic
drinks all to suffer spiritual dysentery
from a castle, jumping to a rotunda
to the things of God, becoming a rascal
a walking tapir in the midst of Tigers.
Chorus
I run to the highest hills
I hide in the deepest caves
I put my trust on strong men
I breath the words of great kinds
When I stumble and fall down
Jesus alone gives His hand
[Repeat]
3. He has suffered it all in his first coming
can come of age his glorious second coming
it is never too late by his reckoning
now is the time to have a rite of passage
men can brag and make you have a reverie
other gods can fight to seem in rivalry
but run to him for the clear and blameless dress
for when its time, his glow no one can repress.
Chorus
I run to the highest hills
I hide in the deepest caves
I put my trust on strong men
I breath the words of great kinds
When I stumble and fall down
Jesus alone gives His hand
[Repeat]