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.
Around that table, picture the scene
Self appointed leaders if you know what I mean
What were the topics on the Agenda that day
The Jewish race is about to pay
Who gave the right for this decision that's made
Who has the right to cleanse and degrade
To decide who lived, to decide who dies
Another chapter, I still wonder why
They came in the day they came in the night
Women and children pulled out of sight
Herded aboard like cattle and sheep
Many a family awoke from their sleep
Dazed and confused as they are taken away
Where will they be at the end of the day
From their warm houses and their warm beds
What must be going through their heads
As they travel through days and through the night
Up ahead, they see lots of lights
They depart the trucks and board the train
Their faces scared under the strain
Asking questions from family and others
Generations, sisters and brothers
Why are we here, where are we going
Windowless carriages with no way of knowing
We come to a stop, soldiers aplenty
Towers and wire, topped with sentries
What can this place be they have taken us to
As we head to large gates as they shuffle us through
Families separated, herded in file
Women and children, not one did smile
Taken to rooms where our heads were shaved
Is this the way humans behaved
Clothes discarded, as we enter the shower
No signs of water no signs of power
Doors slammed as we are all crammed in
History will recall this evil of sins
As we stand in the dark, chanting Jewish faith
Can hear the voices can't see the face
Noises above, do the showers start
The event has begun that tells us Humans apart
Questions and sighs, as walled vents show daylight
Some thing is falling then their slammed tight
A strange aroma starts to fill the air
As all around are screams of despair
Twenty minutes have passed and the quietness is rife
Two thousand people, two thousand lives
Pellets called HCN, or Hydrogen Cyanide
Contribute to this Genocide
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
A Distant Train Whistle
Everymorning’s Chores
A baby cries, a distant train whistle blows,
sounds of morning building momentum.
Bacon sizzles, plates clatter, knives
clink “tinilly” together, nostrils twitch
awakening recalcitrant sleepers.
Sunlight peeks through window slats,
slashes of yellow paint across the drabness
of “everymornings” chores. Boots stomp,
raising dust better left in the field,
children giggle, the coffee pot calls
cadence for a morning’s minuet. Partners
moving in smoothly choreographed
darts and dashes, hot cake shuffle,
coffee cup two step, maple syrup sidestep.
Breakfast, simple and hardy, you did not
carry it – it carried you - into the day.
Rumble of truck, honk of school bus,
good-byes, lunches, kisses, lingering
waves. Warming sunshine fills the room,
a baby cries, a distant train whistle blows.
John G. Lawless
2/29/2016
I am known
for all the subject and matter
that I will never know.
At first light a cool breeze
drops the small humming bugs
from flagging brush and tree.
The stabled horse and I have not met,
yet in a distant stall I hear him wake up
from his statuesque reverie,
shuffle and fart – become a part of
this harkening.
The fields are covered in cuckoo spit
where the dew strings it droplets,
fungi creak open, spores dust
a fecund earth in heat.
I am unknown yet
just as the sky is, as it waits to be painted.
Listening, I hear through a keyhole
drilled through an echoing skull.
A cat wants to come inside
so I let myself out.
Having tasted substance abuse,
today in truth,
many of the young
are wasted in their youth.
But 'God damn' only the pusher
you didn't oughta
as, without the doer,
the dealer, he'd be dead in the water.
One and the same, they're both to blame,
as off each other they will feed,
the former for avarice, a.k.a., greed,
the latter for a misconceived need...
if not to allay his fears,
but cede to the pressure of his peers.
If only my life I could live over again
and the years unfold in my daily scuffle,
as at the thought of growing old,
I recoil from this mortal shuffle.
With apologies to; George Bernard Shaw (1856 – 1950) and William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
Lord, have mercy! Who is that in the mirror I view?
That can't be me with the gray-haired hue!
Seems only yesterday I was a jaunty thirty-five,
Now, I'm reminded that I'm nearing seventy-five!
What are those brown spots on my hands and face?
On top of my pate, I observe a sizeable bald space.
To further deflate my ego, I wear a pair of specs.
Alas, I'm rapidly becoming one of those mortal wrecks!
My teeth grin at me from a glass on the table,
And I have a cane handy to keep me stable.
In the morning as I arise I detect a creak.
Is that the bed springs or my bones making that squeak?
In church I must occupy the very front pew.
From the rear the preacher's words are hard to construe.
It takes me more time to shuffle around the block.
After all, I'm no longer a twenty-five year old jock!
Sometimes I feel as if I'm falling apart,
But thankfully there are docs, their services to impart,
And if they can manage to keep me all patched up,
I'll get around, thank you, as well as any young pup!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
All is pristine.
White lights twinkle,reflected on freshly fallen snow.
The black velvet backdrop of night
Enhances the perception of silvery glitter.
Each tiny flash excitedly gossips to their neighbor.
All is pristine.
There is no trace of mankind.
No hint of corruption or decay to distract from the beauty.
No footprints, no tire tracks,
No clots of snow pushed into dirty stacks
At every corner.
The scent of pine, of a snowflake, of a star filled winter sky.
Tears prick my eyes as the apple
Crisp wind blows across my numb face.
The tiny fuzz in each nostril freezes with every inhalation.
I lift my boot clad foot to take the first step
Into all of that vast ,clean,whiteness
And weep.
I weep for the innocence of childhood,
the freshly fallen snow of youth.
That first step Into puberty, that first taste of the forbidden fruit, into the knowledge of good and evil that inevitably leaves a nasty muddy footprint on my soul.
We do not get to begin again as winter does every turn of the earth.
No, for us winter is forever.
It remains.
We simply shuffle the dirty snow stacks
Into the dark corners of our minds.
This is why redemption is such a miracle!
And the scriptures say it best…
"Come now,and let us reason together,
Saith the Lord, though your sins be as scarlet,they shall be
White as snow.”
Isaiah 1:18
The whispers of diamonds and moonstone,
Starlight’s infusion of butterfly wings.
Flutter of lady’s eyelashes in Spring.
Lullaby murmuring - Jane’s not alone.
Sweet puff of air, rustle of lilting voice.
The whispers of diamonds and moonstone,
Shuffle from ear to ear, play telephone.
Host’s sunrise hair - the inkling day’s rejoice.
Sotto voce of floating flutes. Daydream
Of droplets barely spritzing window-zone.
The whispers of diamonds and moonstone,
Reflection of lone eyes, glimmering stream.
Undertone of Autumnal leaves, strewn, sown.
Olive, lemon, plum - radiant and hushed.
Silent lips of a second chance, not rushed -
The whispers of diamonds and moonstone,
7/17/2021
Whispers
Sponsor: John Lawless
*HMS used - 10 syllables per line with two exceptions -
diamonds (2 syllables instead of my variant 3 syllables)
Sotto Voce (3 syllables. Should be 4)
Your words burped toxins.
Like water, I quenched my thirst.
A portion too hexed to gulp,
I choked in travesty of devotion.
My favourite promises are broken ones.
My solace, found in empty words,
mellifluous as Angels chants.
Memories, you'd wish forgotten,
I embrace like burrs.
I don't want to purge my soul of your thoughts, I pray they cling like a haze
in my clouds. I want to dwell in the
illusion of your warmth.
To be reminded by crystals of you,
by every song, every Smile and kiss.
Let your thoughts sweep my brain,
a swim in rhythm I'll ripple. Like waves,
my tears would steam through the tides
of the sea. Like a child, I'll echo in my wails.
If you're stamped, a mistake,
I'll indulge over and over
till I'm glued to the hurts,
so shattered. Still, like a
blinded frog, I'll jump into
your pit of love after every healing.
Yes! I'll come back so the scars
are renewed sempiternally.
I plead that my heart is
clogged with pain and
misery, while I dream of
all the stormy nights we
stayed up whispering for
hours in pristine waterfalls.
As you enchant my being,
let me burn so bad the
stitches never seal.
Put me in a destruction
circus, savoury punishment
for being strangers.
Get me blinded by lights,
it becomes my enemy.
In recall of those sweet names,
you serenaded me with,
my lips, the last your heart
beats for.
A shuffle through
oubliette, sillage twirls sillage.
Still no sight of your ebullient eyes.
I want to throw you into caves of
evanescent but my heart no longer
listens to any scream but your voice.
You're the bridge every man needs
to cross to get to me, and you're charred.
Like moonlight on water, truth shimmers and bends,
Each question I grasp at immediately ends
In riddles more complex than those that came first—
Some thirsts remain burning, though water is cursed.
"If I drank, I'd die—if I didn't, I'd still die..."
These dilemmas remain as the years shuffle by.
I reach for you in crowded rooms, find only air,
The stars used to dance, now they simply stand there.
Some bonds are made where none expect,
No maps or lines are drawn.
Yet in the dark, some stars will shine,
And guide us ever on.
Time whispers, "If only there was more patience to spare."
Patience replies, "If only time hadn't left us so bare."
I've broken my pen, left my poems undone,
Turned away from clear paths, from the setting sun.
Yet even with knowledge incomplete,
With mysteries that linger and repeat,
I find strange comfort in these gaps between—
The art of not understanding everything I've seen.
For in the silence of what remains unknown,
Seeds of wonder have mysteriously grown.
Not every question needs an answer bright,
Some truths are better glimpsed in half-light.
So I'll embrace the puzzles life presents,
Find beauty in the unsolved arguments,
And walk this path of partial sight,
Holding close both darkness and the light.
Walls enclosing my heart, shutting out the lights
My thoughts drifting back to our loved filled nights
My soul perished by my own wrongs
Music now a curse, I shuffle threw our songs
You have become a beautiful thorn in my side
Cutting in deeper as my longing becomes a limp in my stride.
Slowly i snuff out the flames burning for you.
Failing every time with day dreams of us two.
Rocking myself in the arms of the enemy.
Knowing i had recklessly committed a felony.
Would you still believe in me after all i have done.
Holding me in your sweet embrace whispering i am the one.
My soul is wilting away without you
I watch my eyes turning grey from blue.
This longing has brought me to my knees
I can feel my heart slower its beat as my soul weeps.
Come back to me my lost dark sparrow.
Touch my wounds dripping remove this self driven arrow.
Help me dry these tears from my dying eyes
Take my hand don't let go. Walk with me into the forever sun rise.