Long Shuffle Poems
Long Shuffle Poems. Below are the most popular long Shuffle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shuffle poems by poem length and keyword.
You measure your body through a window. Once you fit, you
go outside of yourself, where the sky is missing.
Sit sideways looking over your shoulder.
A part of a person is stirring unmade coffee with a memory.
Another part stays by the windowpane
glancing edgeways into a cold tongue.
Yet another persona is playing with the squirrels.
The wind is in from lost town,
You find yourself observing the nerve endings of bare branches,
even the trees push their slow thoughts through you.
Shake mist out of slip-shod slippers,
then follow the claw marks
of small birds back into the room.
Today so far, is impassable,
wind-whales block most routes,
they are pushing drifts of insomnia ahead them.
The sunrise glimmers, shedding layers of frozen hide.
On the other side of a windowpane, watching
the light roll over rumpled blankets.
Dawn hovers between night and day,
it stays too long, while time and place
shuffle you like a pack of marked cards.
Cold was the blustery wind driven snow
Heaped at my feet as I shook in the squall
Relentless ice dancers twirled in show,
I grunted and tugged on my thread-bare shawl.
“So this is Christmas!” I cursed through my teeth,
“Trim out a pine tree in tinsel and light;
Make jolly your home by a festive wreath
And spare not a thought for my plight.”
Shiv’ring I turned, aimed to shuffle away
“MISTER!” What person would beckon to me?
Alone had I suffered for countless a day
Good will to men; t'was a lost fantasy.
In spite of my grumbling, I heard them say
“Come warm by our hearth, it’s Christmas today!”
12/20/15
For contest: A Christmas Sonnet Acrostic
Hosted by: Andrea Dietrich
Me and the dance floor don't really get along, but she made me want to tango
So, against my introverted instincts I approached her with half a cup of confidence and the other half nerves
Only to let my lips reach for the words, may I have this dance
A pause of one second turns into one minute before my ears are kissed by a yes
Then we walk on a waterbed for the first couple of steps before dancing on the clouds next to a bed of roses
Pocket full of Posey's
I don't suppose we could let this cupid shuffle continue into the next song
Because I can sense some chemistry, forgive me if I'm wrong
It wasn't my best class in school
I'm the type that likes to let creativity rule
And the right side of my brain is thinking of you the perspective of the left
After the end of the second song, she left
Nothing but a heavy impression on me was left
What's your number is the only question left
So, I turned around and looked to my left
But she was gone
p.s. what a lovely night...
An Old Man’s Bedtime Prayer
Lord: Now I lay me down to rest.
To get away from this days test.
To rest my head on pillows fluff.
To clear my head of all the stuff.
That comes your way as you get old.
It’s part of life that’s seldom told.
I hope to get some 10 hrs. sleep.
I’ll probly end up counting sheep.
As I look back across my days.
I know I’ve sinned in many ways.
I’m real sorry. I’ve told you that.
To say again just sounds “old hat”.
But now I plead for this short break.
To get some rest for bodies sake.
If you “Oh LORD” my wish would grant.
And do for me something I can’t.
For I’ve no strength, my life to take.
Just let me die before I wake.
For my old joints have turned to rust.
I’d just as soon they’re back to dust.
Lord: If I’d wake and look about.
I’d “Hoot & Holler” and give a shout.
If I would find that was my fate.
To there be standing, inside “The Gate”
To know at last I’d passed the test.
I don’t need seats among the best.
It’s enough to not be missed.
My name was on His special list.
But you know best, I’m sure of that.
So if I wake, I’ll just hang pat.
I’ll dream of red, rare, steaks so fat
To ponder where the “Good Times” at.
I’ll shuffle through another day.
And burn more bills we strain pay.
To keep us warm in this cold pit.
And by the window now to sit.
As I think back to ‘yester’ years.
With all the joy, few sprinkled tears.
I never dreamed, these “Golden Years”
Would be so filled with pain and fears.
I never thought I’d leave alone.
My wife & I would share our home.
But when I’m gone, alone she’ll bow.
She’ll need get by . . .I don’t know how.
With this I’ll close my nightly plea.
I’d be forever in debt to thee.
If you would oft stop by this way.
To comfort wife here every day.
Written to honor all the elderly that
Struggle with their health, their obligations,
their present & their future.
Middle of nowhere as the road continues
A hotel sign welcomes my urgent needs
Panic, chaos, as I search for a restroom sign
I burst though the door like a gun slinger in a saloon
Relief
In the wild maze of stalls and panic
I never checked my surroundings for supplies
The roll has gone from white to brown.
No more TP!
Next to me I can see feet.
I am frozen.
I do not make a sound
I feel like I am being hunted by embarrassment
I do not know who is next to me
I make assumptions of their life by the appearance of their shoes
Kind of scuffed and not well maintained
"Spare a square" I would never dare
I wait uncomfortably until they are gone
I shuffle to another stall and again I am whole.
I
I’m leaving today on a promise back to you,
leaving my lonesome blues forever,
and nigh O God is the power and the glory
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
II
Waiting for me breathes my own true love,
someone to see through my blether.
I will follow in your footsteps to your door
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
III
I walk its paths of silent sorrow in a dream
or real, alas I know not whether.
The shuffle in my step is a long time coming
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
IV
With lonely weary heart I’ve mused on she
and the mythology of us together.
If only to find I would walk the farthest mile
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
V
I’m off, my love, where the four winds blow
to journey among birds of a feather,
and girl, wherever I go I know I’ll get there
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
VI
How sweet it is, her shining red lips on mine
whose heart with mine does tether.
Come to me, my lovely, before it’s too late
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
VII
When my epitaph fades in the darkest night
and words unsaid are buried nether,
pray call out my name and promise bury me
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
VIII
So, girl, feel my breath upon your cheek
in gentle winds and stormy weather.
Yes, there is something to remember me by -
my Spanish boots of Spanish leather!
Written: April 1997
Hordes of numbskulls
ride the ether waving on its waves.
Hi kites twirling upon a digital wind.
Each empty head has but one thought,
a desire to be seen.
Hordes watch, flock to the hand-held stage
leer, laugh, get bored with the show
switch to game mode to fight dragons
with dirty fingernails.
What a grand way to die this is!
Shuffle dancing or
ass's twirking, cute or crass
while the kettle of life boils away
and the body pours
until out of gas.
They must,
they simply must be
in every bodies eye,
Must be noticed
and so they preform, risk all
for a dare.
The audience does not care
they are pictures in a camera,
dancing, fighting, or humping,
busy being
the exhibition of the day
minds far away
chattering to themselves.
Money they want for their play or the
paltry currency
of a less than minor celebrity,
a hope that like any bubble
or party balloon
will pop all too soon.
Then what is left? Only this,
the shriveled skin, the idiotic grin
skid marks on a wasteland of time
where they decline.
(Up-Tempo Shuffle)
VERSE A
Each war of personalities
Within your crowded soul
Reaps a gasp of mystery
Anticipated - anticipated ...
But just a flash of golden-green
One sweetened liquored gaze
I'm on a slope that's slippery
Intoxicated - intoxicated - oh
CHORUS 1
I drink you like a madman - ma-ad-man
With cubes of sugar, sugar - sugar, sugar, Baby
I'm clouded like a bad man - ba-ad-man
Bittersweet those sugar highs
Behind your absinthe eyes
VERSE B
You share your social destiny
Your bitter wormwood heart
Those classic drastic emojis
Interrogated - interrogated ...
But all you have to give to me
Is that mossy smouldered look
The surest way to poison me
Contaminated - contaminated - oh
CHORUS 2
I drink you like a madman - ma-ad-man
With cubes of sugar, sugar - sugar, sugar, Baby
I'm clouded like a bad man - ba-ad-man
Bleeding heart for all that lies
Behind your absinthe eyes
BRIDGE
Oh-oh, I drink you in
Oh-oh, that sip of sin
Oh-oh, I'm lost if I begin
(Solo)
CHORUS OUT
I drink you like a madman - ma-ad-man
With cubes of sugar, sugar - sugar, sugar, Baby
I'm clouded like a bad man - ba-ad-man
Angels weep as heaven cries
Behind your absinthe eyes
I drink you like a madman - ma-ad-man
With cubes of sugar, sugar - sugar, sugar, Baby
I'm clouded like a bad man - ba-ad-man
Drowning in a sea of sighs
Behind your absinthe eyes
Behind your absinthe eyes
Behind your absinthe eyes.
* The music for this song has been written, and it WILL be on my upcoming
album/CD - watch for updates on my web site @ www.bahku.com *
Addicted to modern technology you say?
Nah, I could live without my Mac
Well, at least for maybe an hour or so
Before a withdrawal attack
First thing in the morning you'll find me here
Surfing and learning new things
Opening up and exploring new horizons
An amazing experience it brings
Text books and encyclopedias used to do it
The source for all my new learning
Today they've become much less important
The tide is definitely turning
Farewell to novels you held in your hand
Sadly they're becoming obsolete
No more sitting and reading by the seaside
With waves lapping at your feet
So say goodbye to how life used to be
Must adapt or get lost in the shuffle
Open your computer and start surfing away
Or wind up in a new age kerfuffle!
© Jack Ellison 2012
A former place this, a patch where roots rattle,
where stubble has a ferrous frizzle.
A long-truncated railroad stop
humming still with a faded reality.
As dry voices on the wind, they return
- the homesteaders and journeymen,
the harnessed horses.
Pants' cuffs carry kernels
long planted elsewhere.
Caps, coats, and carts
Sweat, rustle and creak,
an invisible locomotion of leaving and arrival.
employed upon an iron labor.
The tall dry weeds are talkative.
Brown boots seem to shuffle
as they wait here or idle.
A hollow clock clacks,
its innards now
are a nest for ticking birds.
Dandelions anticipate twirling flight
under a corn fed sun.
A mid-day heat thrums fragmented rails.
The station seems almost ready
to receive
as if its bygone world
had not forever disembarked.