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.
She’s walking past the tombstones,
Just came from her mothers grave.
As she passes the last stone,
her hand graces the top,
A chill shoots down her spine.
The wind is blowing her hair in every direction,
While the leaves dance around her ankles.
Tears are rolling down her cheeks.
She’d just been talking to her mother for hours,
Longer then she ever had before.
She explained to her mother how her life had been tumbling downward,
Her boyfriend for 5 years had just broken up with her,
When she thought he was going to propose.
Her best friend since kindergarten had just embarrassed her,
in front of everyone.
Just to take her spot as Queen of the School.
She hears the train coming.
She’d been looking for an escape,
An escape of her sadness,
Of her embarrassment,
Of her LIFE.
And here is one, just being given to her.
Without even thinking,
She runs onto the tracks,
The engineer slams on the breaks,
Honking the horn all the while.
She grabs her phone out of her pocket,
Begins to text her father.
Just 5 simple words.
that will mean the word to him.
I’m sorry, I love you
She looks up at the stars shinning down on her,
then at the lights on the train.
She just keeps on staring,
Without even thinking,
Her mind goes blank.
The horn is honking,
While she just waits.
Her mind is beautifully empty,
While the train comes closer.
She stares down at the train from above,
While is halts to a stop, just 100 metres away.
Her lifeless body now mingled with the tracks,
Just lays there,
Motionless,
Breathless.
She begins to regret,
what she had just done,.
Her father wouldn’t be able to go on,
Her sister would be scared,
Her mother, if she were alive, would be ashamed.
To take a life, let alone your own,
Is a crime, that can never be undone.
There is no punishment great enough,
To serve justice.
She wishes more then anything to just turn back time,
To just erase what just occurred
To pretend it never happened.
But this is not like a simple fight with a friend,
Or a bad relationship,
This can not be erased.
Death is not that simple.
A bright light comes from above,
A sudden rush of relaxation shoots through her,
Calmness surrounds her.
And then she lets go.
Her soul floats away into the night sky,
And it’s over now.
By Sierra Cowan
Written the Summer of 2009
I went to the dentist today.
The lady who cleaned my teeth had hair fit for a Weasley with large piercing eyes to compliment. Her name is Sierra, and she is 22 years old.
She asked me if anything had medically changed since the last time I had came.
I told her about my chronic pain and alopecia.
"Is that all?", she innocently questioned. I told her about my anxiety and insomnia.
"What's that sore on your chest?", she probed. I told her about my dermatillomania.
She nodded and got out her tools.
Here, is where I thought the conversation would end.
I'm so thankful I was wrong.
She looked at me with her large eyes and told me that she too has anxiety.
She said she has PTSD from some family issues a couple years back.
She knows what it's like, how it feels.
She sat behind me and asked me how I was coping.
I thought she meant with my mental disorders and informed her I was ok.
The only answer I can semi truthfully give these days.
She asked me if I was sure.
Told me I have sad eyes.
Asked if all of it together was overwhelming.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Yes, it is. It always is.
The only word that managed to escape was yes.
She said that only people who have it can see it in other people.
I have it, I know what she meant.
She recommended certain Melaluca oils to help.
Recommended melatonin for the insomnia.
Said I should text her, call her, Facebook her.
Heck, even make an appointment just for the sake of talking.
She'd go on break and we'd go outside just so I could vent.
Shared with me an inspiring image she loved.
It is a picture of Jesus, smiling, holding his hand out to Peter after he's fallen beneath the waves.
How even though we fall beneath the waves, Jesus isn't disappointed or mad with us.
She said he'll always be there for us.
She said that she knows it's overwhelming, and hard.
But keep your head up above the waves.
She recommended I read a novel titled, "Redeeming Love".
She said it helped her immensely.
Somewhere in here she mentioned I have striking features, and pull off bald better than most.
So much love and compassion radiated from her very words.
I've forgotten what that kind of love feels like.
People who spread compassion and understanding like flower petals give me hope.
Thank you, Sierra.
*This is an actual letter that I wrote to my father, so it's not written in any form of
poetry in mind. It just comes from the heart, and I think that's the best kind of
poetry. I know the grammer is proper, but I my eyes were full of tears and that's the
last thing I cared about at the moment*
Dear Father,
I have a question for you. Do you hate me or something? Because it seems like no
matter what I do, I do it wrong, and no matter what I say I'm being whinny or rude.
I'm sorry if I've upset you, but I don't believe I have. I have been so nice to you and
helped you out a lot these past few months and all I get in return is hurt. I ndon't
understand why you always have to be mean to me. You tell me to tell you how I
feel, but when I do I get yelled at for it, because I'm just a 'PUNK 17 YEAR OLD". I
don't know why I've been so nice to you when you treat me like the scum of the
earth. So can you please explain it to me? You've told us stories about how your dad
was such a jerk and how he pushed you all away, and I'm sorry, but I don't really
see a difference between you two. You're pushing all of us kida away from you and
making us not want to be around you. You're making me cry everyday and I know
for a fact you're hurting everyone else too. I'm not trying to be whinny or rude, or
even hurt your feelings with this letter, but I thought you would want to know what
you're doing to me. And how you're me not even want to live at home anymore. I
remember back before Evony, you were way nicer and you didn't drink as much. We
actually did stuff, like play cards, just the two of us, right before I went to bed. But
now when we do that, we have to play by your computer so you can still play your
stupid game. You can't even pull away from that STUPID GAME for ten minutes to
play a game with your daughter, and show her that even though you may not show
it, that you do still love her. It's really hurting me to write this, and I'm sure it hurts
you to read it, but I'm hoping that by writing this letter, I will no longer cry because
of you every night. Even though you may hurt me all the time, I do still love you. And
I hope you still love me too, even though I'm not sure if you do anymore.
Love Sierra
Form:
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.
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.
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.
Twas a little piece of heaven in a bigger spot of hell,
Nestled in the bosom of the Sierra Nevadas.
I wasn't sure just what planet I had just landed on,
An alien invader in a strange mountain fold.
Oh, they looked at us with those skeptical stares,
Knowing full well their way of life there was to end someday.
But they took us in anyway, finally seeing our flags were the same color,
And taught us the art of rock-flicking and tree-bending!
Miles and miles of tormented roads and depressed dwellings
Peppered the backs of the manzanita hills.
Pine pitch wafted in my nose in the sunshine,
And cool, sweet water in the faltering twilight.
Like fleeing snakes, the rivers and creeks charged down-hill,
A Pacific grave was the prize at the end of the run.
We found the Red Planet above Prussian Hill,
Waiting for us to be the last of the guard of an older way of life.
The only real laws out there were the laws of common courtesy,
Don't tread on me, and an eye for an eye.
Folks were as real and as painfully set as a re-broken bone,
High-falutin' ways were as real to them as Hollywood dreams.
The summer sun burned the devils out of your bones,
The winter chill froze the snow angels into your flesh.
Funny, I never heard the whistle of a train,
Where were the railroads?? Hell, where were the FLATS??
West Point was pointless, Wilseyville was full of wiles,
Independence sat in lonely forgottenness,
Glencoe, a plaque in the artery of Hwy. 26.
Mountain Ranch and Sheep Ranch sighed in amnesic slumber,
While Mokolumne Hill and San Andreas kept vigil to the gateways.
A part of my soul is still buried in the flesh of those fractured rises and draws,
A part of who I am... there's no shame, I feel, to admit it loud and proud.
So, to the new dwellers who've changed her lovely, rustic face
Into the image of what they deem beautiful and of value,
Don't forget there were lives lived out before you came,
And remember they cleared the way for you and your ways!
Resist the temptation to rush to change a land that never asked you,
And treat her with the respect of your fathers' graves and your childrens' futures.
Good morning children! Rise and shine!
15 minutes until breakfast time.
Hurry up or you’ll be late.
David!! Do not say the word hate.
BECAUSE, it is not a nice word
No Sierra, we are NOT getting a bird.
BOY, you are pushing me.
One more time and I’ll put you over my knee.
Sierra!!! ShyAnne! Get out of bed!
Get dressed and brush your head!
No! Not five more minutes!! Now!!
Come on you guys, get in here and eat some chow.
ShyAnne that doesn’t match, well at least change your shirt.
Sierra! Stop! What do you mean your leg got hurt?!
So it just mysteriously hurts for no reason!?!
David no teasin’. NO TEASIN’
Are you dressed yet?
Why is your shirt wet?
Boy, you have toothpaste in your hair.
ShyAnne. Stop whinning. What’s not fair?
Breathe. Breathe. Big and deep. Breathe.
Sierra! Give it back! What ever it is…. Just. Give. it. Back.
What do you mean you can’t find your backpack?
ShyAnne, get dressed you’ll miss the bus.
No .. I’m… not… gonna… cuss.
Brush your hair. Well do it again, you didn’t get the back part.
No!.. No!…. No whinning. Don’t start.
No you can’t wear skates to school.
Idon’t know it’s just the rule.
Sierra quit jumping on the bed, what happened to your hurt leg?
NO! no skates at school!! It doesn’t matter how much you beg!
David! DAAAAAAAVVVIID!! Where is your other shoe?
Well son, I don’t wear them so I don’t have a clue.
Well ShyAnne, if you would have went to bed when I said, you woundn’t be sleepy.
What ? Who ? Who went pee-pee?
Sierra, you look like a clown, get that make up off your face!
Come on guys pick up the pace.
David go change you clothes.
It doesn’t matter which pants, just wear those.
15 more minutes, miss the bus and your gonna walk.
Child! Where is your other sock?
Yes!! You have to wear a jacket! It ‘s cold outside.
Well wear the pink one and don’t leave it on the slide.
Kisses. Bye guys. Have a good day!!
I love you!1 Be good. Learn something today.
Stop pulling your sisters hair and get to the bus stop.
Hurry up you guys! Chop! Chop!
Well Thank God there they go!!
I miss them already though.
Sarah Comstock
1-25-2010
Form:
Como’ Si’ Yama’, Senor’
Como’ Si Yama’, Por Favor’…
… for Below That Embroidered Sombrero’
Shone Eyes Like El Dorado
He Was A Tall and Handsome Hombre’
Like The Range of Sierra Madre’
…Now, He Sat Center The Cantina
Surrounded by Bonita – Senhoritas
He Smiled, “Buenos-Dias Senora’”
Por Favor, Por Que’ El-Hora’ ?...
If So, Have A Seat, Mi- Amiga’
And Mercedes, Bring Over More Cerveza
He Was… Rodrigo Reyes-Pacheco’
Best - of The West, of Vaqueros’
He Came to Compete in The Rodeos
And Win Fame and Fortune in Pesos’
He Came Thru El Paso De’ Tejas
Thru Dusty Rancheros and Mesas
To Ride on El Toro Rojo
Who Has Never Been Ridden Befo’…
La Viva’… Arriva’ … Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero’
Champion Bull Rider, from Old Mexico
Vaya’… Con Dios’ !... Rodrigo
Now, El Toro Rojo, Was Dangerous
For Killing Men, El Rojo, Was Infamous
His Horns Had Pierced Many A Corazon
Ripped Flesh, Like It Was Piñata’ Hung
I Informed All of This To Rodrigo
The Hombre, Was Bent on Being Macho’…
… He Would Ride Toro Rojo, Manyana’
Said “Gracias”… But My Cares Were Por Nada’ !
La Viva’… Arriva’… Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero’
Champion Bull Rider, from Old Mexico
Vaya’… Con Dios’!... Rodrigo
… Now, He Wasn’t Loco in La Cabeza’
I Just Didn’t Comprehende’ … “Que’ Pasa”
But I Saw Rodrigo Atop… El Rojo
… ! He Rode Like A Latino – Tornado ! …
He Rode El Rojo, To The End…
Then, Turned ‘Round and Rode Him Again…
Rodrigo had Won… Just Like He Planned…
Because El Toro – Rojo … … Was Mexican !
La’ Viva’ … Arriva’ … Rodrigo
The Brave and The Bold Caballero
Champion Bull Rider from Old Mexico
Vaya’ … Con Dios ! … Rodrigo….
Vaya’ … Con Dios !... Rodrigo o o o o o
for Ruben Ortellao...
I Don't Really Know
What Your Branch of Humanity is...
(Spanish, French or Other)
But I thought You Might Like
This Whimsical Poem...
Oh... And Thank You For Your
Most Generous Comments...
(Cause I Know You Are A Fantastic Poet...
I've Read Several of Yours
and I Love Them Too...)
(P.S. Excuse the Spelling...
I'm Spanish Illiterate (Smile)
MoonBee
Car gliding gently, whirling down
Mountain engine idling fine
Tall pines flying in circles
Going on for a circumnavigatingly long time
Around the world, no houses
Around the trees, no world
Buzzcut for a boy
Frizz for a girl
Reaching the highway
Open your mouth
To the north and south sierra mountains
Grey and jagged brown
Up and down a heartbeat trace
Across the curve of the world
Right at the gas station, water bottles rattle
The road a narrow vein on the dusty ochre desert skin
Lean with your elbow out till you’re halfway down the globe
Till the car door’s on fire and you can’t take any more
Time to not think about anything
To feel the humming engine’s spirit lift
Chassis growing wings out wide and tyres thrusting wanting air
And, suddenly you’re up there, legs as light as oxygen
Heart pounding, face beaming, spirit going up up
Body begging to come down down
Mouth not knowing whether to be open or shut
Back gently to earth
Turn off to Joshua Tree's dusty ribbon highway
Desert swelling of the mind
Dead reckoning of the blind holy hills
The way they sway rocks in the red in the heat
And the gravel with the chirp and play
Of the desert insect sea
And the sun falls so quick
Once white now dark the world glows deep
With colours rose and mint
Put up the tent
My girlfriend and me
Hear the first coyotes yowl
I get a flashlight and go to the trunk
See a hairy limb in the side of the beam
Flip round see a tarantula crawl towards my feet
Torch turns to check around and see a hundred other
Feeling fingers, fur and fangs
Twitching, marching, swarming from the rocks
Go back to the tent
And zip that mother up, check the flap
What’s up? says my girlfriend. Everything ok?
Oh, yeah, I say, just making sure no mosquitos get in
I’ll get my toothbrush, she says
No, don’t go out, darling, I say.
Let's do that in the morning.