Long Row Poems
Long Row Poems. Below are the most popular long Row by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Row poems by poem length and keyword.
Counting birds at dawn
before the sickness arrives
numbers toll victims—
a ledger of feathers, wings
a census to count the loss.
After the virus
moves unseen through stricken flocks
silencing shorelines—
we count again what survived
absence, entered row by row.
Still some birds remain
carrying something unlearned
an old resistance—
their blood remembers a way
through their freak immunity.
So we count once more
not merely bodies and graves
but the remnant wings—
that become the vital seeds
for new flocks waiting to come.
What is a virus?
unable to live alone
it enters host's cells
steals their means to replicate—
using host's machinery.
A speck without life,
inanimate chemistry,
what right to exist?
no purpose, point, or reason—
a plague within the living.
Is a virus life?
no breath, hunger, cell, or pulse,
inert when alone
yet it mutates and evolves—
where does living, truly start?
I count the living,
knowing most are on death row,
I will count remnants,
I will watch the numbers grow,
mourning such senseless dying.
I count the living,
knowing most are on death row,
I will count remnants,
I will watch the numbers grow,
rueing utter senselessness.
Finally getting back into the swing of it
Holidaying in the Dominican for a week
Sure did wonders for my psyche
Appreciating what I have a whole lot more
Aside from the absolutely gorgeous
All-inclusive resort we stayed in
Living conditions there were sad to see
But in spite of it all, Dominicans have a lust for life
The smallest thing makes them smile
A great big wide sparkling smile!
Was I impressed? You can bet your sweet bippy I was!
We uptight North Americans could learn a lot from them
About what's REALLY important in life
As long as we have loved ones who care
Everything else just amounts to a row of beans!
© Jack Ellison 2014
As moonshine hangs low casting light afar
with orange beams rippling on true hearts pressed;
surrounding a line of pure, coupled stars
while fingers hunger for love, possessed ...
oh, can there be a scene like this more blessed?
If life could pluck hours, let my age withdraw
come love, for we have boat rides more to row.
And as sunrise prays with the mountaintop
lapping against clear fog the prairies keep...
just there, dawn sprinkles on each dewdrop
waking the calm of a morn from its sleep
how can a day hold glory half as deep?
And if breaths could grasp ripples of life’s glow
come dream with me, for we have years to sow!
Contest of Laura Loo:
Rhyme Royal form
Re- entered 2/23/2018
Inspired by Pooh Bear & Christopher Robin, I wrote this poem for Lauryn in March 2013. We used to read the wonderful books and watch the entertaining movies.
If I could row…
By Michelle Morris
March 2013
If I could row a little boat,
Upon a river with you I’d float.
We’d giggle and laugh,
Paddle and play,
Go round the world,
Forever and a day.
‘Cos even if we went nowhere;
Even if we just stayed there;
On a lake or close to a stream;
We’d be together,
And it would be a dream.
Lying in our little boat,
Under the sunshine or stars;
We’d tell tales, wind dreams,
Imagine and be free,
But most of all,
We’d be together;
We’d be we.
© Michelle Morris, 2013
My first encounter with a brown bat was at Long Lake as a kid. It was in the dark of night. I was in a rowboat with a friend guiding the boat. I was watching the water intently with a flashlight, and holding a fish net above my head, ready to swoop down on bullfrogs.
Suddenly the net started jerking left and right!
I'd caught a bat!
Being simultaneously a child such as typically make bad decisions, and naturalist-in-the-making, I took the bat home and put it in a parakeet cage. I planned to feed it meal worms and bugs like I did my western toads.
In the morning I called the zoo and said I had a bat, how should I care for it properly. The person on the phone told me, "You should care for it by letting it go."
I said I didn't want to let it go.
The zookeeper said, "All right then, it needs to be fed its weight in gnats and mosquitoes every night. So go out right now and catch it it's weight in gnats and mosquitos. Hurry! It might starve to death! Then go do it again tomorrow and every day after that."
I said, "Couldn't I feed it mealworms?"
"Gnats and mosquitos."
"That sounds hard. Maybe I should just let it go."
"That's a splendid idea. Wait until night and let it go where you found it."
That night I let it out of the cage and it was off like a bat, so to speak. Across the lake it flittered, a little dark piece of paper caught in the wind and the moonlight.
we paraded behind him
he in a fawn casual jacket
military badge right breast pocket
over a maroon v neck cardigan
even in summer
dark blue trousers
sharp crease
hands behind back
hair neatly slicked down -
stiffly upright
me next aged 7
gray flannel shorts
gray slipover
clunky brown lace up shoes
newly scrubbed
eyes round as saucers
mum last
head down
brown slacks
white blouse
sandy blond
vacantly beautiful
I would keep turning to look back
at mums place
mum had a place
last was here place
not wanting to fall back
trying to keep up with long striding dad
occasionally trying to get in front
the sharp knuckled rap
on my head
from an unyielding god
people looked at us *****
as we marched down the road
all the way to the park
to sit on a bench
dad on one side
me in the middle
mum at the end
sitting silent
pigeons drew near
seeking breadcrumbs
we had no bread crumbs
when it was time
(dad always decided)
we stood up
then filed back home
to listen to the radio
listening
dad nearest to the set
nothing to say
me on the floor fidgeting
mum in the kitchen
fading away
As morose as it may sound
I know I’m really just another
Death row man.
No,
I’m not locked away
For a crime I have done.
I’m free,
But that doesn’t mean
I’m still not on that row.
And that also doesn’t mean
There isn’t some crime I could have done
That would have me lock away and unfree.
I’m sure there are stacks of crimes
I have done
Just all in different lives.
And some of those lives
Are in the past
And some are in the present.
And those guys
Are now locked away
While here I am still free.
Death row, in the here and now,
Free or not
It matters little in the end.
What matters is our willingness
To be redeemed
And the peerless opportunity to be free.
So you
Who are on death row too
The question is, what are you going to do about it?
(7/27/25)
Rowing on unknown waters,
paddling slow,
down the river, we go.
Following the current
towards the uncertain.
Avoiding the unavoidable
wild waters,
part of the river
we row on.
Watching the endless horizons,
we try to contemplate
the beauty around,
even in the rough river rapids.
Rowing down the river,
under the sun and the storm
we paddle slow.
But, before we can think,
we reach
the end of our journey.
Not far,
we can see the sun
melting with the sea.
It's time for us
to leave our boat.
Tired, we rest
while we look behind
remembering
those unforgettable moments,
shiny and precious
as a diamond
locked forever in our hearts.
Shards of raindrops shatter against
vigorous winds of a maelstrom
scraping the peak of an erect pillar
Brave and ready for martyrdom.
A percussion of drums ensues
to delight the Makers Phantom
accompanied by claps and snaps
fulfilling tradition and custom.
Sounds reach impossible soaring heights
that stretch beyond the farthest kingdom
and find the pace of uncontrolled descent
which echoes through the pillars bosom.
Triumphant bass dawns the finale
Bellowing from below the bottom
As quickly as the song arose it falls
To keep the pillar ready at random.
~7 April 2016~
Inside the sorority house
There is a communication device with a mouse
It is there to study or work
Maybe enjoying some relaxing play saying things like a dork
Going high speed
A lot to read
For a sister in need
Taking an intellectual shower
This Godly power
From a tower
Growing and blooming like a young idealist flower
Sticking together dreams on a wish list
Clenching their fist
Having a label ‘Miss’
Should be obsessed with all this?
Knowledgeable assist
Or go out into the real world
Using all those academic friendly referrals
Come home after a long day
Just to say
Time and energy well spent
Earning money to pay the thousand dollars rent
It all started with a nibble and byte
Wife telling Ben Franklin, “go fly a kite”
Remember if there are online courses
Those social logical sources
Encountered in the a moment thought to be true
During a party where everyone is acting cool
He may escort her home
To sleep alone
Than call on the phone
Unlike the computer chat
Where it can shut down in an eye lash bat
By saying ‘not getting into that’
Even in jest
During a weekend rest
While preparing to ace Monday’s test
It is all about the life’s degree
Always searching for the definition to the word ‘honestly’
Take a hard look when observing the scene
Wanting to be a partner on his team
No need to let out a scream
Love will come
Before the daughter and son