Long Rutting Poems
Long Rutting Poems. Below are the most popular long Rutting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rutting poems by poem length and keyword.
The scarecrows stand dejected,
as Day shrinks, and Night pervades.
And Autumn inks colored leaves
before Winter's cold invades.
Trees blush scarlet and crimson,
responding to Jack Frost's kiss.
And, exhaled breaths of air, morph
into fog; breezes dismiss.
Rutting sets the bucks on edge,
rivals clashing head-to-head.
While a pungent odor lures,
compliant does; to be bred.
And the ground crackles, treading
on newly dead and dying.
And bare, skeletal branches,
reach up to grey skies crying.
Raindrops freeze into snowflakes,
forming frozen puffs of cloud.
And Autumn's stripped of color;
wrapped in Winter's snow white shroud.
Why does love always feel like a stick in my eye
When I constantly reach for the sky
Looking for the answers why
It's kicking my butt and leaves
An empty feeling in my gut
Instead of chasing woman like a rutting buck
I always get stuck with the ones
That want to run amuck
I have no luck even sold my truck
Thinking that love has struck
Instead, I got smacked around like a hockey puck
Talk about a man with bad luck
I try to stay as far away
From that kind of women who plays that way
But they always seem to latch on to me
I'm so lonely I just want to be happy and free
Have a life full of mystery
A love that makes life snug as a lug
Not one you can stomp on like a bug
Or one you can just sweep under the rug
I need to change my ways
So I can find a woman who doesn't play that way
It seems like they all know what to say
Before I know it I'm saying goodbye
Because it just feels like another stick in my eye
No matter how hard I try
Oh lord why does this keep happening to me
I pray you bring love my way today
That will make my life as it should be
With a wonderful woman beside me
we drink ambrosia from goblets within our Hearts
browline meets browline you drink your own
which dripped into mine hush hush the surfer
and soldier homed, drinking ambrosia honed
yin-yang becomes yang-yin as frequencies ripple
from nerves slashing nerves when point pulse
point, nails dig nails, light entering wet wounds knuckles balloon, merged muscles sting sing,
bring strands blowing in west wind, leap peep
so deep to sleep, we drink ambrosia link link
cells bell into sounds spear sharp piercing thorn
horn, blood dripping under eyelids hot spot dawn
wolves howling across white space owl hooting
race, we drink ambrosia, drink as know bow
fades into breath within breath, nothing’s a mess let’s confess, house frames go up no shame ~
vertebrae calculating fame, down twig huts jut
rutting fall, drink ambrosia drink ~ magician
holds pentacle, cup, sword and wand, veined
eyeballs sprawl haul, drink ambrosia on brink
exchanging sonnets her mind mine, yours
divine, red butterfly sings on Mozart’s wings
we drink ambrosia as moths gain eyes to see
sight a blight bright seeking missing light
obscured to find from behind hills for the mill drinking ambrosia… lamb bleats at soul feats heralding unions near, silent lips turn dear
irises glance ears to hear tongue tasting
tongue, skin rum in sum hum ~ love tangles
a tango feeding volcano hot smear, rock
point brings pain rain, we drink ambrosia kink
surrender rains ambrosia, drink surrender
between toes in rows piano keys jump a
rump oh ! how blessed not to respond with
frightening haste the race and miles exposed
like star splinter acid into skin, no more lies no
more mask no more escape or rules crossing T’s
as I see your freedom futile fake on faded pleas
rake forsake, we drink ambrosia drink, then blink
do not ask it is His to give as He pleases, we
drink ambrosia, ample ramble drink the record
from loftier heights, drink ambrosia or S I N K
I’ll sing you dream songs
that last as long as the hills
but know this my love
it’s fullness IS
the striving of our wills
Against the darkness
that has crept stealthily
into the hearts of man
I cannot describe
this latent longing
to rest mine eyes
upon the faces of my joy
to stay there reticent
upon the turn of your gaze
Soft sentience gathers
like a cloak of gauze
to be not disaffected by
the backs of those who consume
the refuse of worthlessness
and despise excellencies
but prefer the violations of every
virtue , whose villainy
is unconcealed on any level
considered the character
OF MAN
Salacious , drooling compounded
with the Sophistry of sophistication
Supercilious in their vanities
as rottenness to a tree
Nay , but here I seek
a palate for the delicacy
yielding tender fruit
so desirable as it’s fleeting
from a world gone course
that swallows any thoughts
of pursuing a nature
whose potency can be clearly seen
I defy your erosions
corrosion of thought and deeds
whose love is less than
rutting animals
I decry your mogul media
your grand theatrics
I have divorced you
to pursue a finer thought
I’ll pass you on the street
you will have my hello
but don’t expect to drag me
to your peers whose
consciousness is gone
even in the daytime
I will , my time
with the quality , geniality
of thoughts vibrant
of the orchestral heights
and cast your lows
into some other state
COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
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
Just in case you wondered...
Yours truly, (i.e. I) quickly
became hypnagogic afore
subsequently segueing soundly
into autohypnosis booklore,
while binge reading courtesy
regarding aptitude chore
treasure trove books galore
five dollars as many
paginated fictitious stories ('bout deplore
hubble basket cases) fit into authorized bag
infernal challenge sifting evermore
alum skid more or less
bending and reaching skyhigh
toe tilly (ejaculating
what the heel) footsore
compromising writing, rather heretofore
indulging insatiable knowledge
(surpassing narcotic fix),
the world wide web hide ignore
engrossed various and sundry
enchanting, kickstarting, and revelling - bonjour
dear reader buzzfeeding...
Till chief hankering
(regarding appeasing passionate
word loving aficionado,
albeit temporarily ceased
(think intellectual fancy feast)
getting imagination (mine) linkedin
outspeeding lightning greased
experiencing cerebral capacity increased
virtual make believe
terra incognita leased.
insatiable jabberwocky yen
countless hours elapsed when
inconvenient wont head sleep
wracked courtesy (bowling) ten
pins nabbed mettlesome ambulation
often found me - hen (pecked) hex pen
sieve dishabille scattered brained brute
somnambulant analogous awake burning ken
kindled smoldering cognitive tinder even...
Chilly cooling off, where
temporal lobed hiatus taken
beefing portfolio in effort to scare
back poetic proclivity despite near
severe withdrawal symptoms
reacquainting novelty here
with effort to jog capacity
to craft poem quite aware...
Unsuspecting readers breathed
sigh of relief interim joker I went absent
posting trademark gobbledygook,
now unnamed fool rushes in,
where angels fear to tread - nay cent
return of native son unequivocally, pinterestingly
digitally... afore written dive versification
brandishing said as unsung literary event
psalm time sacrilegious Jew bull gent
bringing entertainment intent
to thee anonymous
analogously, humorously, and parenthetically
lamely affecting (i.e. poorly emulating)
Shakespearean belles lettres,
perhaps coronavirus pathogen
t'will cut me down, whereby
microbial size Clark Kent,
whoops twas Lois Lane I meant
to empower one meek and obedient
primate even during
but, and, or conjunctive
rutting season quiescent.
The missus brings me high test coffee...
A cold wintry January 53rd, 2021
at Highland Manor apartments
picturesque snow covered landscape
safely ensconced within Unit B44,
we (yours truly and wife)
occupy bedroom and
television room respectively
comfortably numb and toasty warm
at sixty degrees Fahrenheit
courtesy climate controlled environment.
I practice crafting poetry
(seeking posthumous fame)
while the spouse busies herself
channel surfing putting
down remote control
after espying satisfactory movie
(Fatal Attractions),
about which she knows
every single detail,
and can rattle offer personal tidbits
about cast of actors and actresses.
Aforementioned regular routine
predictable until
onset rites of spring,
where warm weather perfect balm
to allow, enable and provide
antidote to existential woes
coping with being quarantined,
though sensing optimism
regarding president Joe Biden
green lighting living social pursuits
possibly revisiting
following favorite pastime.
Recalling contra dancing
as palliative against bashfulness
life as high school wallflower served me
without any budding female friendships
until lo… agent tulle nudge, yes
my mother over mollycoddled
then uprooted me
mein kampf familiar
bedrock level road terrain,
which venue offered groundswell
to blossom forth into
golden sterling resplendent rod
of natural equipoise,
(an unbiased opinion) and balance
with freestyle improvisational swinging motions
unchained from moors of formality
lit figurative saint elmo’s
Sesame Street Big Bird
winging fiery dance
allowing, enabling and
providing shy awkward self
during his young adulthood
to cast away four ever
self embroidered handsome
straight as an arrow
naturally high as a kite young guy
buzzfeeding like yellow jacket
liberating spontaneity
that je ne sais quoi joie vivre
clamoring headlong toward pollination
healthy packing heat overflowing
testosterone bin laden well nigh
erupting pistol (stay man)
toward opposite gender,
whereby bravado donned as key
to hoe field of whet dreams
fostering initial albeit late blooming
roll in the hay hormonally
rooted rutting squeal!
And I heard again those voices,
Buoyed upon a murmuring wind,
And oyster-catchers with their
Distinctive, shrill-piping call;
The plaintive cries of floating
Curlews,
Carrying on that wind,
As spilt sunset
Settled over the ruby-red, wine-coloured
Moor.
Blazing purple heathers --
Distant bellows from rutting stags --
The whirling grouse...
And close by, opposite my quiet little
Door,
Seldom seen otters, whistling when
Calling their playful mates,
Splashed and sported in shallow runs
And shadowy pools:-
Opaque, amber waters, swathed
In brilliant starlight,
Reflecting intensity displayed overhead;
Night's rich velvet skies encrusted in
Sparkling jewels.
Yes, as darkness begins to fall,
With drowsy eyes half-shut...
Again, I see and hear it all.
For it is certain, I have now become
Familiar with what is truly meant...
To have to endure an ever waking
Discontent.
One winter eve I walked out with my dog,
The way was dark, unlit by moon and stars,
My flickering torchlight failing in the fog,
To pick out tree roots,crevices and rocks,
To cause a stumble, and a muffled curse.
Whatever else was lurking in the trees,
Silent and still, in my mind grew worse,
As an unfolding midnight dream turned sour.
I knew the the path. We trod it every day,
So filled with pleasure and delight 'til now.
My step quickened. I could not shrug away
A feeling of disquiet and unease,
Palpable amidst the encircling gloom.
Nocturnal creatures scarcely made a sound
But it was magnified, a crack of doom,
A falling twig, or rustling dried-up leaves,
Predators unseen, darkly eyeing prey,
Their evil presence almost within touch,
Waiting the chance to carry me away,
To drag me to some foul and putrid nest,
Never again to see the light of day.
With tensions high and senses all alert,
Out of the dark, a touch upon my leg.
Startled and fearing, a step back I lurched,
And then relief. It had been but a nudge
From Ross. Perhaps he sensed and shared
My fright, but then, from out the stillness of the night,
A fearsome roar. My feet turned into stone.
Blood curdling, heart stopping, the monstrous sound
Echoed around us. Frozen to the spot,
My breathing stopped. I could not turn around
To flee. And then again it came, so close, it seemed
To set the very trees a-quivering.
What beast was this, what wild and hellish fiend ?
More furious bellowing, on and on
And on, and still I could not see the source.
Turning to run, the path had disappeared.
Crashing through entangled briars, ditches,
Fallen trees, scratched and bleeding, soon I feared,
Mud-soaked and stumbling now, that i was lost.
Still I heard the creature, somewhere behind,
Roaring, bellowing, angry with the night.
I fell into a muddy ditch, half blind,
And scrambled through the slime, hoping I might
Emerge at the wood's edge, so close to home
But, helpless, I was sucked into the mire,
Down,down and deeper down, now filled with fear,
Breathing in mud, heart pounding, lungs on fire.
No hope, no light ahead, my end was near.
I reached the bottom. Now let truth be said.
What did I find? I'd fallen out of bed !
And that, dear reader, though I am not one to brag,
Was my encounter with the rutting Lyth Hill stag !
The Haggis lives a solitary life
On mountainsides and braes
Foraging, for slugs and snails
Is how he spends his days
But come the rutting season
A change in him you’ll find
He’ll go out searching, high and low
For others of his kind
His plumage changes colour
From brown to scarlet red
A pair of tree like antlers
He sports upon his head
Then if a female he should sense
On hind legs, at full height
Lets out his raucous mating call
In the Scottish summer night
The pair perform their mating dance
In amongst the heather
Then when the dance is over
Go at it, hell for leather
In just six weeks the brood is born
And unlike any other
They suckle at their fathers breast
And not that of the mother
When the weaning’s over
They’ll go their separate ways
Foraging for slugs and snails
On the mountains and the braes
If you find yourself in Scotland
And you hear a raucous cry
Still your heart, be not afraid
Tis just the Haggii
© 22-01-2009