Long Sheeting Poems
Long Sheeting Poems. Below are the most popular long Sheeting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sheeting poems by poem length and keyword.
After the five days of sweltering heat
I look up from my writings
as the sunlight falters
and the skies begin to darken.
I step outside and gaze
at the lowering clouds,
feeling the wind freshen and gust,
tussling my hair and teasing the fallen Autumn leaves.
And as I stand before the gathering darkness
I hear afar the first rumble
of the approaching storm,
invisibly rolling towards me.
I count slowly upwards, as a child would,
afraid and cowering under the covers.
One...Two... and at six
the thunder comes again, but nearer now.
Still no rain, but the skies
are darker, heavy and oppressive.
eager to unburden themselves
of their burgeoning cargo.
At four the thunder sounds again
and following the receding echoes
a brilliant flash of incandescent light.
For now the lightning comes.
I flinch automatically as the darkness spits asunder.
Torn apart by a jagged blazing bolt.
then suddenly it is gone
and the night surges backwards like an irresistible tide.
Unable to contain themselves longer, the clouds empty
and rain falls in sheeting waves, slowly at first
then driving hard against the ground,
creating a myriad tiny streams that spread, mingle and pool.
The storm is here now, overhead and immensely powerful.
Thunder cracks, seeming to explode above me, and I realise that I am afraid.
Apprehension wars with the intense joy and excitement
coursing through my veins. I stand silent.
In the face of nature one feels so small,
insignificant against the colossal majesty of the skies.
My heart sours as the heavens rage.
My thoughts scattered and blown apart.
It may have been a minute or an hour I stood there,
drenched and shivering and oblivious of either.
I felt myself slowly returning as the storm receded.
The rain gone, the wind dropping and the skies clear.
Was the storm the realisation of the turmoil of my heart ?
Was it real or just my imaginings ?
I do not know, but I now I feel scoured clean, pure, reborn almost.
I see my way before me as I walk back into my life
copyrightacb2013
Trump’s not “great,” he IS fat, his morality’s more like a doormat
To Satan than ‘shining’ example of ‘City on Hilltop!’
His base ‘chokes’ on swill that he feeds them, his fascist black ‘Colors’
Would crucify freedom! “Fake News” is called ‘fact’ from “Hate’s Pews!”
Base prefers ‘rape to sacrifice,’ ‘man’s truth’ to mercy, a racist’s ‘sop’
Over responsible living! ‘Base’ steal ‘what poor have’ from their brothers.
Do rich gain more by axes (a harvest of sweat-felled trees), taxes
Avoided by skewing all law in wealth’s favor, deception
More ‘Rule’ than ‘Exception?’ Can Government serve those it’s cheating?
Should wealth be a privilege earned or the cross of those burned
By the bribes of ‘sin’s favored’ found greasing the courts as more rapist’s come?
Voting rights, virtue, the faith of our father’s, their blood, love’s ‘short-sheeting?’
I may doubt ‘Speech’ of sharers, lie too if I label them “Liars!”
Untruth’s not a lie that a speaker repeats with no malice,
All judgment's perverse that my truth IS God’s truth! Does man grok ‘TRUTH’
Or God! Most folks do what we do (which the later they rue!)
It’s in ‘Faith’ we love God, share Lord’s Supper, though childlike and powerless,
Knowing we’re slaves to our egos, to pride, to our health, and deceived youth!
Earth’s diversity tapped ‘Big Bang’s’ love? You’ve divined God’s Truth needs shove
Perhaps? Might a singular Truth be too big for a mortal,
(An infinite depth to it) maybe a portal to God’s smile?
Might all of Man’s Truth be food Christ grokked at birth? Am I rude?
God! You’re Twit! How can God not be God fool? Does man’s birth seem digital?
‘Best’ explanation is clear! God’s ‘I AM’ Sir, not Jew Sir or Gentile!
Brian Johnston
16th of August in 2019
STOOL MATTERS--
O' crap, whatz wuzz that~!!
Oh, I stepped in and animal excrement,
specially that of common domestic
farm animals left in pasture used as fertilizer
Solid matter discharged alimentary canal
Protective covering
~
Excrement, especially that of common domestic
Droppings, stepping in and on that stuff
muck droppings dung compost
guano ordure excrement
cowpats cow chips cowplop maul mulch
horse apples, buffalo chips, meadow muffins, dressing humus
Peat top-dressing enricher potash marl nourishment
~
ooH! toad juice, bone meal,
peat moss bonemeal fishmeal blood, fish, and bone
La dung ordure
Excreta scat poop dropping waste slops
Odor soil poo dirt turd guano feculence
Egesta doo doody log ejecta ejectamenta doo-doo
Night soil faecal matter, boo-boo, droppings, muck stool
~
Defecation excretion stools fecal matter mess turds waste matter discharge
That jusz ain't cool
Caca body waste secretion, cack motion whoopsies, filth kak
Cowpats sewage doings jobbies evacuation number two
Urined cowplop, black water fertiliser, cow chips, meadow muffin cow pies horse apples go to the bathroom
~
BM flux, jobbie pooh, whoopsie jakes bowel movement, chips perspiration Creatinine sullage sweat big jobs bodily waste
Deuce compost slurry gobar animal excrement pigeon droppings poo-poo
Protective covering mulch bark compost covering insulation leaves
Organic matter peat plastic sheeting protection litter straw
Babies dirty diapers mommie Bobbie made a poo-poo
9/7/21
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
without-
the waning sun
warms my face
shalom cloaks
the wells within
with a tremor of light-
daybreak tinges
the nigrescent sky grey-
the horizon appears
distinct in my mind's eye
on the wind
a bell tolls
memories surface-
words unerased
the image fades
huddled together
from the sheeting rain
the unbrellas mob the hearse-
then in twos
slowly separate
spoor tracks
imprint
the virgin snow-
footsteps of yesteryear
echo in my mind
the diary
fell
pages scattered the floor
memories lie
just out of reach
chill breath
of dawn lights
upon my window-pane
nighttime's promises
freeze into crystal
above the still strand
shrieks of seagulls
die on the inshore breeze-
our twin footsteps disappear
as sunset dissolves
november the fifth-
layered rolls of liquid fog
envelope the bonfire-
the party becomes a
damp squib
a single owl screech
breaks the silent
November night-
the Hunters moon
waxes blue
Summer,past its best,
pampas reaching heavenward,
trees about to rest-
Japanese anemone
as far as my eye can see
hanging from the trees
winter fog welcomes the dawn
and obscures the light--
cobwebs shimmer
necklaced to the hedge
Teddy Bears on holiday.
The Teddy Bears marched one and all
Smartly through the Hotel Hall.
With Ted in front Freddy last
They raised a smile from all they passed.
“Look lively now” was Lionel’s cry
And moving quicker they did try.
Rupert shouted “Feet are sore”
Lisa told him “Not much more”
Out to the sunshine 5 did go
So smart they looked it made a show.
Upon the bellowed “Stop” command
They all stood still held hand in hand.
So Lionel “What’s to do for fun
Whilst we have this warming sun”
“A water game might suit the bill
With buckets, foam and slopping hill.”
An hour spent with plastic sheeting
Pegs and rope and planning meeting.
A slide was made both smooth and turning
Liquid need, stop the burning.
Water down, poured from the top
All stepped on, no chance to stop.
A pile was made with 5 bears twisted
With screams and giggles, bottoms blistered.
Freddy first to wiggle free
Then Rupert wrapped round Lionel’s knee.
Lisa, Ted were both upended
Knickers shown, no one offended.
That day they all had such a game
To stop and tidy, such a shame.
But memories, once made like this
We keep forever, simply bliss.
J D Healey
Soaking wet the grey sheep huddle
by the stone wall shaped and laid
to last five hundred more years still.
Rains sheeting o'er the moor leave
us dripping as the fish in Foley's Tarn.
Clouds careen across the sky like
ragged flags unfurling, our house is
battered by the storm's relentless wrath,
and something's coming...
It's nights like this that bring the creature
from the other side of time, misshapen
wretch with no measure of humanity,
dragging its loathsome body to our door.
Squelching abomination with dark sockets
for its eyes, a travesty of decency and grace.
Not marked in any almanac, no picture
of this beast save in the nightmares
of our child, who flies into his mother's
arms and trembles, trying to scrape
the ugly specter from his mind,
for he knows...
he can feel the slimy presence
hidden deep within the shadows
of the house. Is it living only in his
darkest fears? Once settled is he
free of fang and claw?
"Leave the light on, Mom!"
Soaking wet the grey sheep huddle
by the stone wall shaped and laid
to last five hundred more years still.
Rains sheeting o'er the moor leave
us dripping as the fish in Foley's Tarn.
Clouds careen across the sky like
ragged flags unfurling, our house is
battered by the storm's relentless wrath,
and something's coming...
It's nights like this that bring the creature
from the other side of time, misshapen
wretch with no measure of humanity,
dragging its loathsome body to our door.
Squelching abomination with dark sockets
for its eyes, a travesty of decency and grace.
Not marked in any almanac, no picture
of this beast save in the nightmares
of our child, who flies into his mother's
arms and trembles, trying to scrape
the ugly specter from his mind,
for he knows...
he can feel the slimy presence
hidden deep within the shadows
of the house. Is it living only in his
darkest fears? Once settled is he
free of fang and claw?
"Leave the light on, Mom!"
Soaking wet the grey sheep huddle
by the stone wall shaped and laid
to last five hundred more years still.
Rains sheeting o'er the moor leave
us dripping as the fish in Foley's Tarn.
Clouds careen across the sky like
ragged flags unfurling, our house is
battered by the storm's relentless wrath,
and something's coming...
It's nights like this that bring the creature
from the other side of time, misshapen
wretch with no measure of humanity,
dragging its loathsome body to our door.
Squelching abomination with dark sockets
for its eyes, a travesty of decency and grace.
Not marked in any almanac, no picture
of this beast save in the nightmares
of our child, who flies into his mother's
arms and trembles, trying to scrape
the ugly specter from his mind,
for he knows...
he can feel the slimy presence
hidden deep within the shadows
of the house. Is it living only in his
darkest fears? Once settled is he
free of fang and claw?
"Leave a light on, Mom!"
Soaking wet the grey sheep huddle
by the stone wall shaped and laid
to last five hundred more years still.
Rains sheeting o'er the moor leave
us dripping as the fish in Foley's Tarn.
Clouds careen across the sky like
ragged flags unfurling, our house is
battered by the storm's relentless wrath,
and something's coming...
It's nights like this that bring the creature
from the other side of time, misshapen
wretch with no measure of humanity,
dragging its loathsome body to our door.
Squelching abomination with dark sockets
for its eyes, a travesty of decency and grace.
Not marked in any almanac, no picture
of this beast save in the nightmares
of our child, who flies into his mother's
arms and trembles, trying to scrape
the ugly specter from his mind,
for he knows...
he can feel the slimy presence
hidden deep within the shadows
of the house. Is it living only in his
darkest fears? Once settled is he
free of fang and claw?
"Leave a light on, Mom!"
Soaking wet the grey sheep huddle
by the stone wall shaped and laid
to last five hundred more years still.
Rains sheeting o'er the moor leave
us dripping as the fish in Foley's Tarn.
Clouds careen across the sky like
ragged flags unfurling, our house is
battered by the storm's relentless wrath,
and something's coming...
It's nights like this that bring the creature
from the other side of time, misshapen
wretch with no measure of humanity,
dragging its loathsome body to our door.
Squelching abomination with dark sockets
for its eyes, a travesty of decency and grace.
Not marked in any almanac, no picture
of this beast save in the nightmares
of our child, who flies into his mother's
arms and trembles, trying to scrape
the ugly specter from his mind,
for he knows...
he can feel the slimy presence
hidden deep within the shadows
of the house. Is it living only in his
darkest fears? Once settled is he
free of fang and claw?
"Leave the light on, Mom!"