Long Siberian Poems
Long Siberian Poems. Below are the most popular long Siberian by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Siberian poems by poem length and keyword.
Sitting in the meadow green grass shimmering in the Sunlight
Jade green eyes Sparkle in a mist of long lost TEARS
A cat picks it owner SHE sees LOVE: SHE LOVES HIS HEART
Contrasting stripes of POLISHED JADE Shining in the Sunlight
Dew drops on Meadow grass Sliding down like Tears
Rolling Through the Clover Purring LOVE from HER Pure HEART
FOREVER ALWAYS Entwined in ETERNITY
“NOOoo, NOOoo, Unfair YOU said THREE Lines no Longer
My next stanza is four lines long THEN “WE” go back to THREE”
“ OK, OK I’m sorry but I do LOVE YOU FOREVER AND ALWAYS “
“ I K N O W and I LOVE YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY “
The Green TIGRESS seductively LURES HER MATE to Fondle
To Caress and Probe MY inner SOUL Discover the Estacy of LOVE
A Contented PURRrr, a Contented groan of arousal from HER LOVE
“ Nubbies “ for HER LOVE,” Nubbies “ from HER EVERLASTING LOVE
“ My DEAREST and Only MOST BELOVED LENORE, No [ “Nubbies” ]
Our POEMS are of a HEAVENLY LOVE : not the lust of Mankind
Our EVERLASTING DAY is still three long months Away”
“ I said EVERLASTING LOVE not EVERLASTING D A Y "
Now finish the POEM in YOUR LOVING and HEARTFELT WAY
IN JUST THREE {3} LINES”
If YOUR in the jungle YOU hear the ROAR of the Mighty White Siberian
Fear for YOUR Life , when YOU listen to the Sirenic PURR of a Green Tigress
Hug and Embrace HER for all of YOUR Tomorrows She ; YOUR EVERLASTING
W IFE
Dedicated in LOVING Memory to the Co-Author Of this POEM
My DEAREST and Only MOST BELOVED LENORE ELLEN ADAMS [ L E A ]
Being Sold Down the River?
Near 80 years ago it has been
Another Jerk wanted to make his country great again
America first has been used before
It was a commie ploy to keep the U.S. out of the War
Over 6 million Jews were gassed or shot
Who’s going to end up in his burial plot?
Both started out with the same trend
Replace everyone with family and friend
They will do and say anything for power
This one wants to rule from his Ivory Tower
Don’t worry about fighting with the NRA
He will make sure there’s nothing to take away
We are being sold out by being in his trance
Wakeup or learn that funny little Russian dance
Take your money and buy Vodka stock
That way you might not be in hock
Learn to speak Russian and don’t fail
For I hear its cold in a Siberian jail
Keep your mouth shut and speak not
If you speak out, you could be shot
Elections will be no more
It doesn’t matter who you vote for.
2/28/2018
By: Sonny Roper a retired U.S. Navy military veteran
and moi (me)
Groundhog day 2021 - Tuesday, February 2nd
Coincides with astronomy's cross-quarter day,
marking the midpoint between
winter solstice and spring equinox,
which will occur at 5:37 AM on
in Northern Hemisphere
Saturday, March 20.
Small consolation old man winter
spans fewest days
of all four seasons,
especially when massive nor'easter
predicted today January 31st, 2021
including within neck of woods
named Perkiomen Valley Pennsylvania.
Yours truly remembers
when spry Jack (hoar) Frost
(just yea high -
both arms stretched to sky)
came early, left late and bossed
vernal equinox
rattling barenaked branches
obviously inapropos
to budding friendship.
Now (courtesy global warming/ climate change)
mother nature experiences feeling strange
within valleys and atop many mountain range,
wherein goods traded away on stock exchange.
Fortunate concerning yours truly
versus daring to brave
inclement weather
getting stranded in the process
(possibly becoming gratefully dead)
risking life and limb venturing forth
amidst near whiteout conditions
creating debacle perilous and grave
shoveling snow lest he get buried
he can remain holed up
(in tandem with the missus)
snug as a bug in his mancave.
While nestled inside warm abode for awhile
(at least until temperature upwards doth dial
safely ensconced against elements (of style),
I stopped at metaphoric woods edge
trekking until... for no rhyme nor reason
the poetic metered equivalent,
viz another mile
then stopped for coffee break
burst of energy gave me cause to smile
fording imponderable stream of consciousness
impossible (airy) mission to dodge regarding
aforesaid daunting task to craft worthwhile
poetic endeavor to entertain anonymous readers
gleaning how one bard (with his shaky spear)
evokes fiction being snowbound
as if cast adrift within Siberian exile.
Straightaway I continue writing askew
aware how literary trademark modality
characteristic of Matthew
unwittingly indelibly embedded
analous to mine Caucasian
versus swarthy melanin hue
man automatically confers eligibility granting
innumerable known mighty opportunities
(privileged skin color - how unfair)
bigoted prejudices shade those,
either hashtagged as black, brown
naturally copper toned gentile and/or Jew.
War is Obsolete
by Michael R. Burch
Trump’s war is on children and their mothers.
"An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind." ? Gandhi
War is obsolete;
even the strange machinery of dread
weeps for the child in the street
who cannot lift her head
to reprimand the Man
who failed to countermand
her soft defeat.
But war is obsolete;
even the cold robotic drone
that flies far overhead
has sense enough to moan
and shudder at her plight
(only men bereft of Light
with hearts indurate stone
embrace war’s Siberian night.)
For war is obsolete;
man’s tribal “gods,” long dead,
have fled his awakening sight
while the true Sun, overhead,
has pity on her plight.
O sweet, precipitate Light!?
embrace her, reject the night
that leaves gentle fledglings dead.
For each brute ancestor lies
with his totems and his “gods”
in the slavehold of premature night
that awaited him in his tomb;
while Love, the ancestral womb,
still longs to give birth to the Light.
So which child shall we murder tonight,
or which Ares condemn to the gloom?
Originally published by The Flea. While campaigning for president in 2016, Donald Trump said that, as commander-in-chief of the American military, he would order American soldiers to track down and murder women and children as "retribution" for acts of terrorism. When aghast journalists asked Trump if he could possibly have meant what he said, he verified more than once that he did. Keywords/Tags: war, terrorism, retribution, violence, murder, children, child abuse, Gandhi, Trump, evil, drones, USA, military, terror, horror
Remember
Israel of three thousand years
expulsed at times
enslaved by the Romans
gassed by Europe
persecuted by Saudi-Arabia
murdered by Iran and Iraq
shackled by Egypt
attacked by Jordan
robbed by Syria
sold out by the UK
bombed by the IRA
slandered with spit by Turkish terrorists
sent to the Siberian gulags in Russia
comrades they are not
evicted from many many lands
Battles house by house
street by street
once friendly neighbors
each calling the other traitor
a bloody war where no side
would retreat
by prophecy they won
Wrestling God
the twelve tribes returned
to the land of the Israelites
to their promised land
from sand they made gardens
from the desert they grew grapes
where terror reigns they
made an oasis
Anti Zionism still slithers
belly dancers selling their deceptions
naked harlots forever spew latent hate
evil men whisper, dead jew, dead jew
sadly, uneducated views saturate
seductively selling their false peace
like a woman's second hand virginity
They only hate, and dream of blood
if only, if only we had another flood
Noah would leave them all at shore
harlots, by any other name are simply
the devils horses
Israel was
Israel is
Israel shall forever be
the Middle East's democracy
and graciously
the custodian of all of us
a religious trinity
Gods chosen
their glorious capital
Jerusalem!
It was a sizzling summer of electric blues and vibrant hues
in a garden full of flowers inked in plushy spanking reds
a wall of buttress wood splashed with vines of green
a purple morning glory with a touch of dewy sheen
over by a mossy pond a mandarin duck of orangey blue
The sun turns amber like a big fat shimmering coin of gold
in a sky that often blushes fuchsia, pink, by a cloud's enfold
emerald blades of grass behind a white striped skunk
a gradient shade of orange, from a Siberian chipmunk
here by the royal blue bench, a vibrant peacock fans bold
It is a season of rainbow colored rain and red electric trains
in a terrace full of trellises of white, roses bright as Spain
blooming with vigor inside my bright oasis
happily connected to a Revlon kiss,
of cherry berry merry, on a girl named Mary Lou Fontaine
A beauty so rare in it's habitat
Endangered they are by the human brat
Like many others on our planet earth
Our greed devalues their living worth
These Siberian Stripe-rs from the Trans-Caucasus lands
To view it in it's wilds is a feeling of grand
But it's so tragic to believe how few of them remain
Around five hundred and twenty, live in their domain
Three hundred and fifty Kg's, with a one metre tail
Panthera tigris altaica is the size of the male
In China they are being reared to repopulate it's wilds
So generations of our children, will deservedly smile
Will we ever learn that they are entitled to be here
As us humans expand into their expanse year after year
There has to be a time when respect is due to them
Then our time has come to change from man to men
If the above does not happen, we become the last two lines
Another species gone, this most beautiful panthera feline
Imagine the moment when you look into his eyes
There are millions of us, as their last one dies
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-11.php
Orange and black, nature's warning sign
Muscle and grace intertwine
Prowling predator, jungle king
Silent steps, deadly swing
Eyes of amber, piercing gaze
Stalking through the misty haze
Whiskers twitch, sensing prey
In tall grass, the tigers lay
Roar echoes, primal sound
Shivers run, fear abound
Teeth like daggers, claws like knives
One swipe is all it takes for lives
Bengal, Siberian, and Sumatran too
Malayan, Indochinese – precious few
Species dwindling, habitats shrink
Poachers push them to the brink
Solitary hunter, territorial beast
Man and nature, an eternal feast
Powerful swimmer, climber strong
In folk tales and myths, they belong
Conservation efforts, racing time
To save this beast so sublime
Stripes unique, like fingerprints
In-camera traps, we see their hints
Symbol of strength, courage, and might
Tiger burning bright in the night
Apex predator, ecosystem's link
Without them, balance starts to sink
Majestic creature, fierce yet grand
Victim of greed in many a land
But hope remains if we act fast
To ensure the tiger's reign will last
So let the tiger's spirit ignite
A fire in us to join the fight
To keep them roaming, wild and free
A legacy for all to see
The Dilettante Diaries: "Finding Lost Keys on the Steppes of White Ivory"
Where do you place your hands
When the sands of time
Slip through the 4th
and like reading braille
you silently derail
to touch burning
black keys
on white ivory
you go about
removing cold hands
from the warm pockets
of trapped complacency
looking for
double sixes
roll the dice
tumble the love cup
upside down
soft-sucked
sugar cube
black tea leaves
soak up your
bespoke wet dream
slam danced
you're romanced
up against graffiti
walls, you
take a chance on
shadow dancing
with another hand
tired of shuffling decks
cutting cards with
Half-hitched knots
and sinking boats
that pass for
tiger sharks
playing for
white ivory
on the cool
Siberian Steppes of
silent aching skin
shimmering
secrets sans
translucency
and buzzing bees
burning
stings
the wanting
humming silently
secrets and
all those
lost black burning keys
within …
(Lovejoy-Burton/October 2018)
The save vanishing species USPS stamp -
featuring an Amur tiger cub graphic
-----------------------------------------------
Hillborn river, gentle Amur flows east
Embracing enroute a score of besties
Enriching diverse lives, some so unique
She sways towards the ocean Pacific
Warm orange bright Siberian tigers
Left in cold, threatened, dispossessed drifters
Settle along serene flowing Amur
Takes her name, huddle along her, survive
Sad eyes with Blake's immortal symmetry
An Amur cub stamped on clear envelope
Stares at cruel human eyes with pity
Asks for mercy, for marked territory