Long Sierra Poems
Long Sierra Poems. Below are the most popular long Sierra by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sierra poems by poem length and keyword.
I can just see the clouds riding along the wind
breaking formation, watch a tornado spin
Lifting up houses, then throwing them down
destroying each structure, there is to be found
smashing and crashing around
But then all the swirling just disappears
leaving some thankful and other's in tears
vowing to rebuild, although it'll take years
and hoping that everyone's found
It's just
Mother Nature playing around
Dodo dodo do Dodo dodo do
Down in the keys, the wind seems more friendly
It fills up my sails, makes my boat ride the seas
But then there's a season, the wind starts to roar
we board up our windows, nail shut every door
Hurricanes, you can't ignore
After a while, the mighty wind seem to cease
Humidity rises and so does the heat
searching for water and something to eat
Hoping that soon it'll be found
It's just
Mother Nature playing around
Dodo dodo do Dodo dodo do
Up there in the mountains, the air is so crisp
the breeze is so gentle, like Moms kiss on your lips
and then your informed, there's a fire alight
Sierra winds, have gotten strong over night
Some choose to stay or take flight
But then the wind calms and the rain starts to fall
to wash away memories, ashes and all
It's time to rebuild, should be finished by fall
I'm beginning to like how that sounds
It's just
Mother nature playing around
Dodo dodo do Dodo dodo do
DINOSAURS
Let me take out my thesaurus
And talk about them stinky dinosaurs
I have my own theory on the Mesozoic Era,
First I'll share my reason on the Continental Drift
Who's to blame for the disconnection of our jagged sierra?
It could've been the Jurassic reptiles that caused the world to split!
My favorite meat eater is the ferocious Allosaurus
Sharp claws- sharp teeth,
terrorizing all the dinos walking on all fours.
Sneaking up while they eat and gaze the veggie heath.
Striping away chunks & chunks of meat!!!
A prehistoric predator eating his way to the top.
Preying on other dinos as if they where all pork chop.
I also like the silly Velociraptors!
These carnivores gathered and hunt in packs.
Should I call these wanna be birds 'gangsters'?
Since they had each others backs!
I also like that funny looking pea brain Stegosaurus
Look how his tiny little head is attached to that gigantic body.
I bet that dino was the dumbest of all dinosaurs
Once again imagine an 80 foot long Diplodocus,
or, a 90 foot long Apatosaurus- also known as the Brontosaurs.
Along with the largest known 45 foot tall Brachiosaurus.
Can you imagine a herd of these dinos over 40 feet tall.
Leaving a path of destruction like a tornado.
Turning the earth upright, tumbling the ground with one fall
Flying high in that sky, swooping down to the seas.
In the Pteranodon eyes, every thing looked like Pease.
Don't think I forgot about Mr.. T.Rex
How funny he looks with them little claw like hands,,
A nightmare in his own neighbor hood,
A scavenger, prowling to see what he could eat next
What a big O' bully that Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Lets not forget about the 3 horn Triceratop.
I wonder how long it took Mr.T.Rex to bring Sara to a drop
Last but not least
I like the little egg thieves
Hiding and kidnapping all them babies,
before they hatched, into their herds like armies.
Now that could be a theory to the real Dinosaurs Evolution.
One can't really say why the dinosaurs went away
Maybe the climate, or a star explosion leaking out radiation.
Scientist don't know why dinosaurs had an expiration!
I have a crazy thought!
Maybe all them egg eaters ate the dinosaurs into extinction.
By:P.D.
This a revised and updated edition of a poem I recently wrote and posted. I'm interested in your comments, especially if your read the previous version. Thank you for reading and providing your honest opinion(s).
Where have you gone America, where have you been?
Where are the places I used to roam
Long ago with family and friends?
Where are your steeples and spires pointing
Upward, skyward bound? Are they still there
Where I last left them
Back in my home town? God fearing people
And places, filled with traces of
Humanities hopes and dreams;
Sky scrapers, chance takers,
Sweet Land of Liberty.
And I hope you haven’t lost the grandeur
Of the Rocky Mountain Range;
The Blue Ridge, Black Hills, Sierra Nevada,
And Northern Cascades.
Are your wonderfully winding rivers still running
And forest trees growing tall
Like the pioneer days
Before the Pilgrims came to call?
Do your hearts still yearn
For what might be earned
Through the sweat of the brow and tears?
Do people still sing and dance by the moon
Because freedom’s still free so I here? Some fear
You may be falling
From the crow’s nest where you’ve been
While the waves are growing stronger
And you’re losing too many old friends.
While I still wave “Old Glory”
In these hurricane like gales,
‘Cause I’ve seen other places
And many sad faces
Where everybody fails.
Where life is pathetic, miserable, vile;
Without freedom of expressing
Barely a thought worthwhile.
Not that you don’t have a few
Stones in need of shining;
You’ve made some mistakes
But it’s still not too late;
Changing course is a matter of timing. I believe
In you America, you’re
The cradle, bosom and grave
Of all that I am and will ever be
In you, my heart still craves.
Though some may vehemently disagree
The right to do so sets them free
Paid for by the last full measure
Of friends and lovers, sons and daughters,
Fathers, Brothers in Arms,
Souls unraveled from earthly travels, America
You’re a long, long way from gone.
From my view and this direction
This reflection from the glass;
Half full instead of empty,
Troubles always pass. Sooner or later
Come what may the pendulum always shifts;
Left and right, day and night, America,
You’re still the world’s greatest gift.
Three days and topo,
Drawn circle to stay
Within; can’t
Encounter another.
Three days of solitude
Bare provisions, no tent;
Fruit, jerky, one egg,
Three matches.
The rest of food to find
Mid-summer, Sierra,
Plenty if you know,
Nothing if not.
Night one, little sleep
Chilled, shaking fingers
Touch flame to tinder –
Welcome whisp.
Eat one half orange
Put egg within
Then orange into coals –
The first breakfast.
Eve, day two,
The silence doesn’t speak;
Smells and sounds
Grow strong and loud.
Night three, a voice
Different language
Primal, musical,
Ecstatic, empowering.
Hike back, meet others
Sit in circle, no talk,
Eat sandwiches
Listen to a drum.
Driving along last fall, we pointed to the beautiful orange trees of Autumn. There were many beautiful Sunday mornings as we drove to church.
Now early February, it's a bit cold and the breathtaking leaves are gone. Not to worry, the snow-capped Sierra mountains can be seen in the distance.
Today is a clear day so full of sunlight, and the white clouds are pure and stunning. As we drove along The Antelope Road, someone spoke of crispiness
and clean air. Although driving, safely I must add, I could not help but look up, out, around and away. We are deeply grateful to be getting plenty of rain in
the Central Valley without flooding. Heavy snowpacks in the mountain this winter will release ample supplies of water this summer. Like so much of life
itself, in the brightest of clouds, though unafraid, we must notate the grey.
Today, I saw tints of grey tucked so pristinely about the white clouds of peace,
poise, and calm. Knowing the meaning of it all, I INHALED the sun, snow-capped Sierras, and the beautiful clouds. I knew the meaning of it all and
instinctively EXHALED the site of slowly forming dark and grey clouds. Perhaps the rain would return Monday, but we welcomed the sunny Sunday.
02132019PoSoupContest, Mid Feburary, Brian Strand; 1P
My Dearest Brava,
On Q I'm awakened by the boom
sounds of thunder in my soul
lightning striking fire
I'm burning up
and the day is yet to wonder
the lark consumed
cats eyes, shined
walking fence posts after dark
twinkles amongst stars
it's three and I only feel one
an enigma
but that's not truth
and we only live on truth
stale bread and holy water
stolen from the catacombs
but we're not going to hell
we're already in paradise
I followed you til you stopped
and shook my rust
dancing a tango to Lima
humming a sultry Sierra tune
twirled about in Paris
making love
and more than that tower swoon
bare in a blink of an eye
awaiting
not letting trouble walk on by
be that one,
shoot across my sky
whenever a young woman wants to abort an unwanted pregnancy
she get a lot of grief
yet, when young men and woman are deployed to fight
on foreign land and lose their lives
how is that okay?
Is It just a coincidence that just about every time the United States
becomes embroiled in war, a Republican is in the office of president
and how Is It possible for known terrorist groups
like the Aryan Nation, Al-Queda, or the Bloods to purchase
large quantities of guns without the ATF being aware of It
how is that okay?
how Is It that the entire world was oblivious to the genocide
occurring in Ruwanda and Sierra Leone
yet the United Nations ran over to Hertzakovia-Slovenia
at the first sign of trouble
how is that okay?
how Is It that the United States was halfway around the world
in Indonesia within 5 days after the tsunami
with food, clothing and recovery
yet here on United States soil it took over 10 days to get any
relief to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina
how is that okay?
where is the social responsibility?
where is the simple humanity?
where is the equality?
It's time for the people to take a stance today
and then maybe one day it will be okay
The long walk (Serra de Estrella)
Crossing from France to Portugal, my car got stuck
in the snow, on the mountain of Sierra de Estrella
It was the year when much snow fell, but I walked on
coming down, I felt like Moses and his tablets.
It was getting warmer; the first to go was my coat
and tie, later my trousers jacket
Over Alentejo, it was hot; I traded my trousers with
a tramp who gave me his shorts and sandals.
When I arrived in Vilamoura, I was stopped by the police
and asked who I was. “English, I Said.” “No, you are not.”
“Yes, I’m” “No, you are not a proper English man
who will always wear socks with his sandals.”
At the foot of Burgos’ Castle
Looking toward its beautiful Cathedral
I learned what it means:
"To tide down by the pylon"
Or "to go down to the Moor Muza."
From waist down
It was the first time
I saw and rarely admired
My girlfriend's chestnut or mussel.
The hair around it
Reached almost to her knees.
I wanted sex
And to do it like the calf and she calf
From Quintanar de la Sierra do
But she told me no
That, first, tide down to the pyle
Or to go down to the Moor Muza
As I wished
And adorn the banks of her mussel
With the two chevalieres we brought
Because " so this delicacy
From a pretty and sandunguera woman
Will taste better."
I grabbed the two chevalieres
A typical Burgos sweet
Cracking them hard on their chestnut
Making a paste of milk
Flour, butter, and yeast
Sugar, egg, and a pinch of salt
Plus the tartar from her big lips
And cute nymphs
Plus that sticky nectar that flowed
From her and meatus.
I began to lick and eat
With an infinite hunger
Lifting my tongue from her anus
To the top of her Venus’ Mount
Biting her ********
As if it were a man's cock.
She realized
In a non-fake ******
That I was getting hard.
Sweetly, she said to me:
"Bring here that your hill with two eggs"
Taking it with her hand.
I don't know where she's taking it.
She didn't take it to the path between her two ****
Nor along the paths of the anus.
She took it to a blackberry bush
And there, almost, she killed it bleeding!
We didn't have sex.
She said to me:
-I think you'll be happy
With this wonderful snack you've had
Of partridge or rabbit
Of turtledove or quail
Adorned with local chevalieres.
Maybe another day
Your redwing will enter my nest
Or Il eat that your cream filling churro.
We set off along the path that leads
To the Church of Saint Stephen
Hopping, skipping, and singing:
By Maurice Chevalier’s
"Paris Will Always Be Paris".
Without realizing it
I was walking with my fly half open
Saying she to me immediately:
Come back, come back to our place of love
I left my panties in the grass.
I answered her smiling:
- You¡
I'll buy you another one
Or go without it
That so You wear it much cooler
And better.
When dark shadows of war fell
And cries of anguish rang like bells
Streets stained, the skies of Sierra Leone torn
The hope of this nation was lost and gone.
Through those dark clouds, a light arose
A force for peace, worries deposed
ECOMOG came with a mission crystal as clear
To drive away the reign of fear.
Through jungle paths and smelly streets
They battled on, defying defeat
With every step and with every stand
They stitched together a broken land
This is the power of unity, you see—
An African brother lifting another free.
One finger alone can't lift a stone;
It takes a union to build a home.