Long Scotching Poems
Long Scotching Poems. Below are the most popular long Scotching by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scotching poems by poem length and keyword.
911 affirmation: "remember to breathe"
Because to hold my breath is to keep myself from holding you
Poetry breathes you, the way I always miss how much I need you
The next door neighbor to my heart
You can borrow as much sugar as you need
Because I have a sweet tooth for your lips
I need your kiss
I could do without the freedoms of air
This is the war for love so all is fair
Under this weather where unpredictable is the norm
When I was born all the stars pointed to you
So I find myself having late night conversations with constellations because my dreams carry over into the day and my smile falls asleep as I pray, then wakes up to a new May, so may I please have this dance?
My heart is hop scotching to the lou
Where did you go, I can't find you
p.s. "Remember to breathe..."
There was a time not so long ago
When my children still ran on little legs
Wading through ocean green evening summer grass
Their faces bright as lamps with laughter
Hop-scotching up to their knees
In polka dotted waves of fireflies
If you can imagine Osiris and Isis awoke from their married womb
Walking wind through chandeliers
When galaxies fell to the mirrors of Earth
Sifted like gold from sand
Oh the reflection of gods we have forgotten
How to walk on water
At my knees in the woods I stir the stars of a small fire
Chant a ritual to bring back the magic
A diamond dislodges from the crown of Oak
Flitter of soul enchanting the shadows
To the children I say dance and sing
Ring in again the vegetable spirits
Swirl your feet with allure of dreams
At your ankles the twinkle of constellations
Comb with sparks your beautiful hair
All may be shared
The return of angels from yesteryear.
it has been written
in one of the books of nikki…
if you look into a mirror
you’ll see a beautiful creature
looking back at you…
it is assumed
that in the reality
of nature there are both
beauty and ugliness
and that both
are at the interpretation
of the eyes of the beholder…
behold—beneath the epidemic
shadowing—the risen sun
brightly spreading its grandeur
over the graveyard silence
of terrestrial beings…
broken only by the piercing echoes
of a flying flock of birds
overhead in rhythmic v-formation
thus shattering the otherwise anechoic
atmosphere that the imposed ensconcing
has placed upon all of nature’s humanity…
unlike nature’s storms—tornados, hurricanes,
tsunamis—& quaking earth, the present
enormity of pandemic devastation is not physical
seen or heard—only felt in the daily rise
in our human death toll…rising to its apex curving…
yet…through verandah blinds…can be seen
happy wasp building their nest…red-breasted
birds hop-scotching the greening grass
through which scurrying squirrels dash
as they eagerly elevator themselves
from tree to tree…blinking waving smiles…
in the midst of the ugliness
that loneliness and fear can bring
in the shadow of death
nature has her way of infusing serene
beauty impregnating thanksgiving prayers
of another day of being perpendicular
to her cosmic presence…generating
shaded memory of the mourning
at the crucifixion...transforming
into exuberant joy and exhilaration
of the resurrection…
proving that this tormenting time too…
shall soon passover…
leaving blood-stained memories
of overcoming—returning
to the remaining struggle
for justice…equality…peace…love…
THE MYSTERY OF LIFE
A life full of mysteries and surprises
A life where daybreak doesn't guarantee sunshine
The priests places the sacrifice at his shrine
But bcos the gods are angry they are eaten by swine
Life full of mysteries and untold stories
Men with no honour live in houses built in storeys
Others live in slums and they give God the glory
This has been part of us and our history
Life full mysteries that makes them to complain
Many are stung and crippled by what they can't explain
They once live in hope and thought their freedom they'd gain
But to hope and wish is just another sting of pain
Life full of mysteries where we seek friends around the world
But we forget the the great ones and their words
Now we're smitten not by enemies but friends' swords
We fell and all before us to scale are great walls
Life full of mysteries from conception to birth
Deceived by milk today only to chew nuts at night
Carried on the shoulder today but a luggage on the head after
Clothed with the finest of fabrics made from the earth today and buried below same at dusk
Whether were live clean or dirty they bid us dust to dust
Whether we die in the scotching sun of the sahara or in the freezing hands of the Poles
They still tell us aches to aches
For the rich, the poor, the cursed, the blessed, the conquered, the winner, the victim and the victor
For the white, the black the dwarf, the giants and the stunted
For the kings and the subjects
We will all be a traveller in the city where the sun sets and never rises
This is our lots, the unending mysteries of life.
(FM CONCEPTUAL ???)
I saw Jesus Today
I saw Jesus this morning… in shredded clothes, shivering, begging and all he wanted was just to eat!
I saw Jesus this morning, on the street… under the scotching sun. He had no shelter on His head.
I saw Jesus today
In my neighbor’s house…
Frail… sickly… He has no money for hospital.
I saw Jesus today
In the church…
He could not pay his school fees.
I saw Jesus today
Yet still at the church
He has nothing to feed His children as He walked home , head bow and dejected.
I saw Him… I always see Him .
Oh yes, I saw him, yet again in my child’s school, with a torn uniform and a worn out sandals!
I saw Him, I always see Him.
But a number of times, I see him, but I did not know Him.
Yet oftentimes I see Him, I did not discern Him.
Many atimes, I encountered Him, but I did not have an encounter with Him.
Lord can you have mercy on me?
Crossing thresholds of blooms and dewdrops of glorious spring,
Toward autumn proudly walks season-bride with golden ring;
Her costumes, robes of ballet dancers, as per scenes, changes,
Facets of nature alter her charm to cosmic ranges...!
Scotching sun transforms mossy leaves, to golden-churns,
Clement breeze, once exited the stage, into storm-gust, returns;
Painful to bid goodbye to beloved trees, leaves linger,
Yet, get shaken off by now-twig-turning, dry-tree-finger...!
Constellation composes puzzled riddled strange stories,
Church-bells jingle mingling mysteries and histories;
Et-tu-Brute - one could hear Julius Caesar cry loud,
Senators encircle him, as though, for their goals, they're proud...!
Traces of moon gets gut-split; glowworm-stars glitter around,
Clouds, Indian widows in wild white, move, no safe paths found;
Master Craftsman pursues and persists painting scenes serene,
Brushes, disobliging, spill paints-mixes gaudy and sheen...!
Flocks of tribal nomads grazing on moss-grassland valleys,
Resemble ides-sheep of Jupiter; relishing rallies;
Peacock butterflies float, like goddess Anna in rose-hill,
In marriages of myths and truths, moods merrily chill and thrill...!
Harmonious chorus of sky and seas brings pertinence,
Parameters of perfection pave paths of permanence,
Paradoxes of joys, angst... it possesses plethora,
Ides-of-March! Not time! Not season! It's eternal era...!
28 March 2022
This or That, Vol 11 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Live lovely looks
Bright blessings book
Craze consigns crook
Oomph orders ooze
Beer bottle booze
Senile sense snooze
Go gather good
Mix motive mood
Fashion fine food
Leapfrog lame lines
Flavours frame fine
Muse mellows mine
Do design deed
Free fragrant feed
Waste wallows weed
Live lazy light
See sparkling sights
Blooms blossom bright
Rush rescues run
Play prunes pure pun
Sight scotching sun
Seed spacious start
Hurl healing heart
Pleasure primes part
Clever clowns croon
Night nurtures noon
Belief bears boon
Real rustic room
Blessings burst bloom
Glimpse gracious gloom
Meet moments meek
Special sign seek
Prime pleasure peeks
Leon Enriquez
28 Feb 2014
Singapore
You predict that dense clouds will bring drizzles.
Wild West wind, you say, causes scotching heat
Time's chisel, in your skill and will, fizzles.
In you, weather's ups and downs, take backseat.
Have you ceased seeing the deiform dawn?
Virtues and vices charm you as choices.
Towards past and future, you're often drawn
Can't you hear the present time's sore voices?
Both questions and answers are in your hands.
Your innocence should win over all.
Shouldn't harmony be your best of plans?
Isn't there a dawn after each nightfall?
Could the sun ignore any of its beams?
Reconcile! Foes too will flow with your streams.
The bee knows to find pollens;
the spider, to bridge a gorge—
driven, as in the blood.
Stream follows a slope
and locates the sea
in a rustling meander,
gathering moss, throwing up gloss.
None can stymie the racing sun,
or slow the course
that providence set
till decked with a garland
of purple rose.
It's in the blood;
in a genetic transmutation
wrought by the ageless hand
that sculptured and hungq
floating moon and winking stars.
The sun cuts through dense jungle,
drills a way in pitch darkness;
he sucks honey from rock,
draws the fury of fleas in the lea.
Cry against his blazing rays,
the scotching heat,
but hug the warmth lest
winter whines while summer
flees for lack of spring.
© 2017 Celestine Ikwuamaesi
Birdsong serenade
Sun beams streaming;
Abrupt illumination
~~~~~~~~~
Food mall gallery
Tempting flavours;
Sensational buzz
~~~~~~~~~
Busy feet scatter
Muddy puddles;
Rain water gushing
~~~~~~~~~
Humid weather burns
Dehydrated faces;
Scotching heatwave
~~~~~~~~~
Severe flu bout
Head dizzy drowsy;
Coughing frustration
~~~~~~~~~
By this bench
Watch busy people;
Pursuing taut agendas
~~~~~~~~~
City fringe footpath
Workday buzz zigzags;
Toils and pursuits
~~~~~~~~~
Old couple walking
Stop to review signposts;
Figuring the way home
~~~~~~~~~
Old man sits here
Watching each day;
No one for company
~~~~~~~~~
Curious brown squirrel
Searching up and down;
Ancient tree trunk
~~~~~~~~~
Movie glimpses
Home entertainment;
Siesta comes quick
~~~~~~~~~
Walking meditation
Silent mantra chant;
Focus frames feelings
~~~~~~~~~
Bumper to bumper
City traffic moves;
Slower than snails
~~~~~~~~~
Drama flings
Melodrama curves;
Afternoon matinee
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
04 May 2016
Singapore