Long Scavenges Poems
Long Scavenges Poems. Below are the most popular long Scavenges by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scavenges poems by poem length and keyword.
An expanse of pregnant clouds gather
I hesitate mid-step in petrichor air
anticipating a breakthrough, a rumble
the rain.
A lone desert tortoise roots for water
as he subsists on tiny droplets
he hunts for pearls of condensation
collecting on sparse foliage
scarce puddles of liquid gold
that form in the early morning dew.
Searching for rain in the desert wastelands
a lone bald eagle scavenges for food
to feed to her young fledglings
who eagerly await her return.
The desert languishes, barren and lifeless
waiting in anticipation at the dawn of day
day after day, month after month
until today...
As now, I look and wait, fresh rain appears
heaven sent, it's moist jewels escape
from the sky, falling down in heavy droplets
upon the thirsty ground
bringing new life to a dry and weary land.
Rewritten on 1/11/2017
Outside Jesus Town
Old man dusted off his hat and whiskers
Polished off a tumbler of red wine
Continued baking in the California sun
Outside the town of Jesus, just east of it, before the mines
There to finish his raw sculpture of a sandy rusted man
Bent over, sitting on a worn out stool
The desert followed the old artist
It is everywhere
He blended in with it
Black hat and shirt were not the best apparel for the heat of day
They are the only clothes the old man owns
He scavenges the dried out lands for metals
Rusted iron is the best to build the sculpted figure
A monument to life out there on prairies
Where heat and art and wine take part in nature
And pull it all together from the dark
The white bearded man with tumble weeded hair
Stands contemplative just east of Jesus
Planning his next rusted man
But blinded by the noon day sun
Created on 12/05/14 for- East Jesus – Poetry Contest
Just one more avenue that will take you down
As on Satan's head you place yet another a crown
As a homeless man scavenges through the window pane
You look upon him with complete and utter disdain
And once having your own fill
You now add dessert to that bill
Adjusting your chair so as not to look outside
For sympathy was never something you really ever tried
Getting ready for the chill you don your coat
Having suddenly gotten this little lump in your now empty throat
Now on your way, walking out the front door
Hoping you don't see that pathetic man any more
But as you continue your walk back up South street
There he is lying on a vent, crumpled up at you feet
Casually walking past, trying to look the other way
He looks up at you and say's, "sir, it is for your soul that I pray"
But you didn't hear those words that he said
For your too content and completely fed
Having so little he has given you so much
For life is so brittle without God's Touch
She's a mom from a poor family.
Everyday striving in a sidewalks.
No shelter,no roof to shed.
Her life is devastated.
No food ,she scavenges day by day.
She got pregnant,a man didn't stay.
Until one morning has came.
She'd delivered her son in a banquette.
She feeds baby on her breast,
So poor, she can't afford an expensive milk.
To feed a baby she all adore.
She is frustrated to give him ,
A better life, the safest home.
Until one coldest night.
The wind blows so strong.
Her baby suffered for an extreme cold.
She was baffled and nowhere else to run.
Taking her baby,found a tree to hide.
And was amazed by what she found,
the li'l life she fed on her breast,
no longer breathed, a cold cadaver.
The life she used to cradle, had left,
and gone in the midst of the night.
Tears fell down on her cheek,
and she mourned for a baby ,
She had given love and breath.
Based on the painting :"Mother and Child" from Stephanie Deshpande
Contemporary Figurative Art for the Contemporary Free Rhyme Contest of
Cyndi MacMillan