Long Shies Poems

Long Shies Poems. Below are the most popular long Shies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shies poems by poem length and keyword.


Tortoiseshell Cats

Tortoiseshell Cats 

Aroun’ came a kittycat, it was so cold
Slept outside to save her sole
Staying outside might do her harm.
Gotta do summin’ to keep her warm.
Got her a pillow, got her a mat.
But she slept on the chair just where I sat.
Black and brown, she’s a Tortoiseshell cat

Won’t come near, just shies away.
Won’t let you pet her to save the day.
Open the door – what can I say?
What can we do to make her stay.
Gonna feed her summin’ to make her fat.
Put out some cat food, she did like that
Black and brown, she’s a Tortoiseshell cat

Where goes little one, she’s not aroun’.
Search all the neighbors, search all the town.
We get a little worried, we get a little sad
What did we do to make her mad?
It’s been a while she’s been away
We keep lookin’ both night & day.
No little kittie, we worry about that.
Black ‘n’ brown, where’s our Tortoiseshell cat?

Then comes a time - what a surprise!
Two more little kittens with big yellow eyes
Mama Cat, baby cats, they’re all so sweet
Gotta get some food for them all to eat.
Two little kittens just a running around
One from the country; one from the town.
Kittie, kittie, kitten; where you at?
Black and brown they’re our Tortoiseshell cats

Rounded them up & off they went
Off to the Vet where they were sent.
Then home agin, home agin; back to the norm
Home agin, home agin; without any harm.
Open the cage to let them go
Scared they were as so ‘n’ so
They’ll be back in mos’ nothing flat.
Here they come, our Tortoishell cats

Runnin’ & jumpin’ in the morning dew.
Can’t change nature for these two.
Chase each other, chase a bug
Won’t let you give ‘em even a littl’ hug
Sleep all day & then play mos’ night.
Somethin’ about this just seems right.
Longer and taller, but they don’t get fat
Two big kittens; each a Tortoiseshell cat.

Now open the door with a little invite
Come inside to the warmth & light.
Creeping around noisy as can be.
Still so shy – please don’t touch me.
Still gotta outside, still gotta roam.
Inside, outside – their new home.
Getting’ mo’ friendly – scratch on the mats
Yes, you know, our Tortoiseshell cats

Food to eat and I’ll come back
Put down summin’; like a paper sack
Still gotta outside just gotta roam.
Inside, outside – their new home.
© Don Turner  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


A True Nigerian

A true Nigerian is brave like the Lion,
He is courageous, hospitable and kind.
He never shies away from responsibilities;
In his hearts of heart he controls all within him.
Through faith, he moves without stopping;
Even when there are many road blocks, he conquers.



A true Nigerian is patriotic and loyal,
He is not a gambler nor a fraudester.
He walks to achieve a common goal; unity.
He sees black as black and white as white.
He is the eyes that the country boast of home and abroad when he brings home the glory of love.
A true Nigerian never discriminates among his people.



A true Nigeria is a good leader in his home and country, he sees beyond looting of money and
Embazzlement of public fund in his trust.
A true Nigeria is perfectly perfect in perfection,
He is not dubious as you may think and have in your
Wrongly wronedg mind of mind towards him.



A True Nigerian is never lazy and idle like they say,
He is hardworking, goal driven, dreamer and doer.
He knows his rights and obligations in his society.
A true Nigerian is a true African decorated with an
Unfading black blood in his strongly strong vein.
He is honest, gentle, courageous and easy-going man.
A true Nigerian is a poet because he sees beyond you.



A true Nigerian is holy not fanatic fool in the church.
A true Nigerian believes and hope in the land of his forebears that goodness shall spring out from it.
He is educated, intelligent, world class citizen and
A thunder that strikes to destroy evil among his people.
He looks right into your eyes and tell you tomorrow.
A true Nigerian is a reader not a watcher of event,
He is a researcher, world class entrepreneur.



A true Nigerian obeys  the laws of the land,
He is a goal getter among all in the World.
Show me a million succeessful men around the world and; I will show you thousand of Nigerians among them.
We are blessed in many ways, nurished with a talent of gifts; Nigerians are blessed and uplifted.
We believe that If something that was going to chop off your head only knocked off your cap, you should be grateful and when a girl has beauty without Brains, the Private parts suffer the most.
We are Nigerians, we are proudly Nigerians. 



(C) John Chizoba Vincent

9-11 Halloween

Mist, Mist..
Why not whisper, why not speak?
When upon thy shrouded depths,
Thou knowest truly, what we seek

Darkness, Darkness
Why be quiet, why not be shrill?
When your hoot and squeal and growls,
Shivers our spine, with unbidden thrill

Cat, Cat
Why be fair, why not be black?
Then your hackles and caterwauling,
Sends us scurrying, to home be back.

Hag, Hag
Why be frail, where is your broom?
When your ire and witchy hex,
For wayward kids, spells dreadful doom.

Road, Road
Why be lively, why not be lone?
Your dark stretch once cast shadows,
Dancing wickedly, with the wind’s soft moan.

Moon, Moon
Why be normal, why be so pale?
When it’s your ghostly light and full visage
That sends the night, to howl and wail.

Trees, Trees
Why be silent, why won’t you creak?
The touch of your twisting limbs,
Will send us running, though knees be weak.

Bat, Bat
Why in flight do you shy away?
When your flap and eerie screeches,
Bolts us upright, from where we lay.

Statues, Statues
Why be still, why don’t you blink?
When your lifelike and weird stare,
To morbid fright, makes us sink.

Where has thrill, and childhood fear went?
The dread craved, without any harm meant,

Remembering…    
The simple fire lit stories, From whence one conjured,
The demons of the night,
Feeding eerie appetites.

For now this world, has darkened indeed,
With the very evil, that is man’s own deed.
With horrific crimes, atrocious and vile
In contrast makes sweet, the bitterest bile.

Woe for ‘tis sanctified no more, the domain of life,
Taken cold blooded with nary, a conscience’s strife.
Children though chaste, with this horror not spared,
Man’s grimmest side, to dire fullness bared.

The great divide, between men and monster,
In these darkest of times, exists no longer.

That is why…
My mind whispers and hoots and growls,
Caterwauls and moans and howl and wail,
Hexes and shies and stares and blinks and sinks... 
Down, down, down.

For I pity this frail humanity, 
In its sad, sad, sorry plight,
That ponders why innocence has gone,
From scare’s warm embrace, 
To TERROR'S cold arms.

- Originally posted as TERROR TERROR. 

Copyright by the Olongapoet,
George Daniel Anos Oct. 12, 2008

Terror Terror

TERROR, TERROR
Mist, Mist..
Why not whisper, why not speak?
When upon thy shrouded depths,
Thou knowest truly, what we seek

Darkness, Darkness
Why be quiet, why not be shrill?
When your hoot and squeal and growls,
Shivers our spine, with unbidden thrill

Cat, Cat
Why be fair, why not be black?
Then your hackles and caterwauling,
Sends us scurrying, to home be back.

Hag, Hag
Why be frail, where is your broom?
When your ire and witchy hex,
For wayward kids, spells dreadful doom.

Road, Road
Why be lively, why not be lone?
Your dark stretch once cast shadows,
Dancing wickedly, with the wind’s soft moan.

Moon, Moon
Why be normal, why be so pale?
When it’s your ghostly light and full visage
 That sends the night, to howl and wail.

Trees, Trees
Why be silent, why won’t you creak?
The touch of your twisting limbs,
Will send us running, though knees be weak.

Bat, Bat
Why in flight do you shy away?
When your flap and eerie screeches,
Bolts us upright, from where we lay.

Statues, Statues
Why be still, why don’t you blink?
When your lifelike and weird stare,
To morbid fright, makes us sink.

Where has thrill, and childhood fear went?
The dread craved, without any harm meant,
Remembering…    
The simple fire lit stories, From whence one conjured,
The demons of the night,
Feeding eerie appetites.

For now this world, has darkened indeed,
With the very evil, that is man’s own deed.
With horrific crimes, atrocious and vile
In contrast makes sweet, the bitterest bile.

Woe for ‘tis sanctified no more, the domain of life,
Taken cold blooded with nary, a conscience’s strife.
Children though chaste, with this horror not spared,
Man’s grimmest side, to dire fullness bared.

The great divide, between men and monster,
In these darkest of times, exists no longer.

That is why…
My mind whispers and hoots and growls,
Caterwauls and moans and howl and wail,
Hexes and shies and stares and blinks and sinks... Down, down, down.

For I pity this frail humanity, 
In its sad, sad, sorry plight,
That ponders why innocence has gone,
From scare’s warm embrace, 
To terror’s cold arms.
Form:

An Ill-Fated Person Meeting His Loved One

'An Ill-fated Person Meeting His Loved One'

It snowed 
And she appeared like the snow
She appears like the speed of a storm
I do not know when she arrived
Like a pleasant breeze 
Why do I look for her somewhere else?

She is all wet in the heavy rain
The filth of the mind gets cleaned on her arrival
I get swayed when I see her
Why am I so?

The leaves have fallen dried
But she blooms at her fullest
Though this life is hers
Who am I becoming so covetous?

There is scorching heat, but she doesn’t sweat
She arrives like the hailstorm
But it’s me who sweat
Why am I so?

She smiles when we meet
She shies away when she sees
It seems my loved one sings and plays
But I go unmoved when I see her
Why am I so?

She appears in the early hours of the sun rise
But never disappears 
And I keep imagining her
Why am I so?

She keeps saying, and I continue listening
It appears the life has begun glittering
And when I peep into her, she shies away
Why do I but peep to see her?

Those deer-like blue eyes
Tightened arms
Those movements of a cat-walk
And I wait her coming at the cross-road
Why do I wait her
When I do not know
The date and time of her arrival?

The God carved her
And showered his blessings 
That the laughter and the joy be with her
Let no one do her any wrong
It has been ages that I haven’t seen her
But I can’t still forget her
Why am I so?

It snowed, and the snow melted
And then she rose
She bloomed and shied away like the storm
And then there is the scorching heat
I remember her in this heat now
I melt when I imagine her
Why am I so?

I don’t know why
I couldn’t get a sleep today
And there came a snowfall of the next year
I imagined a body like the snow
And thus my eyes opened
I met my loved one
What a fate I have?

Her legs staggered
Eyes wet with tears
Puckered lips
I could not tolerate the marks of lashes on her body
Why can’t I look at her
Even when I see her?

I heard to her sobbing voice
Exhausted shies and gestures 
The snow melted unnoticed 
And she too disappeared 
What an ill-fated person I am
Meeting my loved one!
Form: ABC


Why Part Two

nor any greed
from one suppurating marriage
 this guy wants to be freed
with no malice this cheap tricking
   super tramping wordsmith
 of inxs ac of dc charged cheap tricks
 sans done dirty deed.

This impersonator qua sometime bard of yore
admits to his apology
 if ye get taken totally abominable
 like bar rammy aback

 to proposition ye with carnal desires in store
and ideally match deeds ease with these words
 towards such strong desire to adore
forsooth that naked realm

 to allow the noggin to bore
together in close syncopation like couplet core
and would now gently encourage
 his newfound muse

to let me dip me quill in 
   iambic pentameter du jour
a wordsmith who shies away
drinking pot or smoking booze.
 
Now with a zing
i step into the digital xing
via summit da fall low wing
written jest to byte tongue in cheek
 yet unsure if zee phone here will ring

or an unexpected gold plated invitation
 after the yodeling ding
in an effort to hear that pleasant
 yet discordant musical ka -- ching
for cherished pennies, 
   nickels, dimes, nickle back
 et cetera from heaven to bring.
 
Twiddling me fir and twenty black bird
 shaped like a green thumb
 as me schmart simian Semitic ****
 gets comfortably numb

after quaffing 
   humongous amount of rum
while downing oral rob hurts 
   sesame street pudding

 made of pureed plum
unlike jack in the corner 
   my luck mooch oh more glum
and despite facial stubble here
 and there a stale crumb
this har dabbler in words haint no bum
only a hard knock er skool alum.
 
from thee one and only almighty 
alfred e. neuman king crusty crab crumb son Rodg
er alias scott matthews - whose words 
   intended as playful persiflage

if curious to learn more about me 
   emanating from cranial lodge
   unless no auto mat tick interest arises - 
   whence this reply u can dodge.

Premium Member Where Can I Find You

Where can I find you?
Where are you hiding?
I've asked the Stars
they remain silent
I've asked the Moon
night after night
from full moon to crescent and back
she shies away from me...
Not a word
I ask the Sun
from sunup till sundown
I beg and cajole
The blazing eye in the sky
to speak of you
To tell me where he has last seen you
To put aside his jealousy
that I long for your heat more than his
In anger he burns and doesn't say a word
I ask the sea
I ask every living tree
From the flowers I plead
"Tell me, little ones...
Have you seen him?
Have you seen my love?"
They sway and sway
Though he loves them so...
Not a word they say

I ask my heart,
"Have you seen my love?
It's been so very long...
So very long since I felt his touch
and heard his voice
Have you seen my love, 
Tell me, where has he gone?"

My heart speaks,
"Silly child...
All this time and you have not heard him speak?
What is each beat?
What is this inner pounding you hear? 
Is it not his voice?
Can you not hear?
He is here...
He is resting in me
Not to be harmed
Yes, don't be alarmed
He is here in your little heart

Of what use is the sun, moon, stars, and sea
When he lies safe in me
You can find him also in your mind
There, in there, my little one
He is who you want him to be
He loves you as you want to be loved
In your heart
In your mind
He lives and breaths and moves
Can't you see?
Can't you hear?
Listen to me."

Wearied from my search
I lay down on my bed
I closed my tear filled eyes
and placed my hand on my chest
I felt the beating of my heart
and I thought of you
I smiled
and I thought of you
The Moon sent her silvery messengers
To caress and sooth me
and with the light of dawn,
The Sun came to warm my thoughts
And I rose to a new day
With no questions in my heart
With nothing left to say
For my lover was in me...

Eileen

The Queen's Letter 8

Where the candles chase away the darkness, o'dear husband there an stranger in my heart. From heaven descend who voices shall I call dear husband to chase away your decree? Meaning dewell wisdom thy sister eternal song letting be see the way thru. A strange song this has become? Elohim son Yeshua do not stir to
my sight. The souls dies in departure suffer torments their hope is death immortality, For putting me here dear husband thus you put a stranger in my heart? Shadows come forth to know me, these strange spirits know me not. for I am not their mother? I got blood on my name, our children are never gonna be the same. My eyes has grown old with that dirty song, Shame no grief lost sleep has known death. Laughter that has shaking agony that have shaking death my punishment the same. Giving no ear to hear me and or my screams thus I go away slowly without sight, o'dear husband I alone say to you there a stranger in my heart?!
The most blessed who have hid in the dark, Peace unshaking by death undying singing, And night give way to my punishment from which way I go, breaking my chad to delight your words on my lips?! Did I once see you in that daybreak visiting me softy thru the suffering I did place on my spirit? o'dear husband who is this stranger in my heart? Secretly a lost dying limb broken to be reborn, That grin a house of mirth only to fall in a unsafe rest, So lonely a rare gift, The years unhope serene, Our sons and their immortality, Our daughters born unmarry, they are subjects with joy and pain and their inheritage brought our of death, Shake away this stranger in my heart to again bring me forth to your heart kingdom and let me live again?! there by the rich shies stay the peace of radiance that is touch by YAH wonder that stirs alone. I have drowned, I have died, I have set aside my foolish? I alone ask that you set aside this stranger in my heart.
Form: Sonnet

Oath Unbound: Psalm 2

I speak of a passion which only God can deny
for what other Force may decide when Heroes should die
Along rainswept passages and rut-strewn way
I see my brothers stoop'd down to pray

We each stumbled and groped down this unwalked path
unknown to eachother but sharing in wrath
but woe to those of us who would undo
the will of God, for his anger would ensue

Soldiers and Heroes, martyrs among us halved men
we bled and we died before the whips of angellic sin
our wings be clipped, our crowns lay shattered
but for all our strength we were able to do what mattered

Alas! In the End of Day and Night!
When Heaven shies behind the edges of mortal sight!
I still hear the choirs sing and chime
In their hymns there exists no Time

Only for a moment dare I shut my ear
even'ough the Dark Enemy draws ever near
I fear that the skies cannot hold still
Paradise shakes for the Devil's will

I only wish'd for a moment's reprieve
a moment away from my Master's sleave
But for a Man such as I, chained to oaths all worlds decry
I can never forever hope to know what it's like to be free

O' a moment passes all too soon
my ear opens up, my hands re-bound, my brief stillness ruin'd
the sword and the shield fastly to my hand
the war is not o'er and my blood still feeds the land

Retract! Retract!
Bitter dreams to waylay and distract
My focus returneth to the fight ahead
I return to toil, to labor, until the enemy falls dead

Drop to drop, my blood runneth down
Almighty God drives my blade, my Dark Enemy found
down He lays, emptied of life from every vein
And forever after I see my Dark Enemy, my brief freedom slain
© John Allen  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

The Freedom To Sleep Late

Though rather tepid,
     this aspect of my life,
     I coon sitter tubby cool
and hoop fully ye
     (unknown reader
     will quickly warm)
     e'en if thee option
     to stay abed

     might cuz ya to drool
though this re: son hubble 
     mister rhyme stir
     (in this instance) enjoyably
     playing the role
     of "FAKE" fool
barely breaking a cerebral sweat,
     sans minimally exerting

     mine mental capacity,
     (which got set
     to cruise control)
luxuriating at exemption, space/
     time continuum junction,
     and option to arise
whenever I want, joyfully cries,
sans this pleasure to exercise

allowance to avoid "rat race,"
     (though mine circadian
rhythm usually jostles
     me (Joe Cur) 
     awake mid morning,
     when dream state flies
away Chuck Norris lies,
no explanation to include

     above name sake),
this will be my oh
      chew weary,
     boot before thy demise
lemme summarily apprise
circumstances (moost NOT
     envied by other gals and guise)
cuz receiving social security disability

(predicated on major panic attacks,
     social anxiety, 
     and schizoid personality
     disorder NOT tubby confused
     with schizophrenia) defies
explanation former severe

     debilitating, harrowing,
     and lacerating symptoms
     decreased with medication,
     yet the better (or rather
     worse) part of my life,
     argh...time to shies and Ryan!

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