Long Signage Poems
Long Signage Poems. Below are the most popular long Signage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Signage poems by poem length and keyword.
Seed - scattered strewn or downtrodden.
Grain stuck on passive flytrap mucus.
Wild life biomes ripe with open sesame.
Frantic birth pangs stiffen their gestations as green leaf ferments bubble underneath.
Mother of all wombs, diva pulse or fertile runner bean.
Maternal youth.
Eternal youth.
Bamboo shoots that wave their infant tassels
in a windmill vane.
Future plant life leveler a wobbly wellie earth crunch.
Squelching noises tower over brown air pigment mulch.
Sweet pea treasure’s
plot or topsoil script, ploughman’s pen an agri-birthmark issue.
Acorns cling to feather beak and claw with migrant species casually dispersing airborne clan.
Pity the poor bacteria as they bear their own strain.
Mediators in regrowth,
life cycle go betweens who skirt around infinity.
Pregnant life force signage points at blossom, branch and blade.
Father sky, whose azure blue tarpaulin watches blithely as we earthlings bloom like algae.
Captain chlorophyll, the sunshine nabbing pirate rules the waves.
Sugar dazzle booty on display for fortune hunters everywhere.
Placenta of the rural outcrop overstretched.
Nourishing, replenishing yet prematurely procreates its progeny.
Compost layer genus code emulsions where thorny splatters worm themselves inside.
Gene pool mirror drapes its vibrant colour wash on foetal lime bow and arrow twigs.
A prism to some rainbow tint or shaft.
Muddy waters percolating sluggishly through all those clay born matrices below.
Our natural breeds now wet nurse turf ground offspring.
Nutrients absorbed by network carriers- sprout and stem WIFI eco-mates.
Elevator of the undergrowth in embryo.
Going up going down.
Timeless womb your time will always come.
Posted 13 th August 2021
My family did not visit New York City
but instead played in the Catskills.
I SCREAM AT THE BEAR
I scream, at the bear
signage, for ice cream.
The tea cups are flying -
fun in the dying,
with laughter and cones.
The zoo in the Catskills
skilled with school
children, the haven -
a private sanctuary
in thar hills.
Fun for the whole family,
broken down,
sold for its bones,
auctioned and spread.
Today, you can stay
in the giraffe mansion
and hike the original
miles or explore
many, many more.
The Catskills,
once upon a time,
booming - now
its a ghost town
with baby boomer
memories.
3/24/2022
Introductory highlights
Paragraphs and blah-blah-blah;
Final period
~~~~~~~~~
Sad eyes
Staring a straight blank;
Tear tinged mascara
~~~~~~~~~
On this mountain
A scenic panorama;
Valley undertakings
~~~~~~~~~
Warning signage:
Do Not Enter --
Police investigation
~~~~~~~~~
Young couple
Lovely-dovely;
Fleeting distractions
~~~~~~~~~
Sorrow and pain
Etch good paintings;
Come let's create
~~~~~~~~~
All in due time
Echoes shout;
Chaos configures
~~~~~~~~~
Harsh reality
Nothing nice to say;
Live and let live
~~~~~~~~~
Joy in your eyes
Posture of bliss;
Hunger manifests
~~~~~~~~~
Going on a trip
So much to do;
Discard anxiety
~~~~~~~~~
Love speaks
No words needed;
Touch and glimpse
~~~~~~~~~
Joy sings
Sorrow weeps;
Life unfurls magic
~~~~~~~~~
No words
No pictures;
Nothing
~~~~~~~~~
Song for my soul
Words incomplete;
Vibrant music
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
23 April 2015
Singapore
This sandwich board licence business closely illustrates
what this is really by taking the biscuit
money for signage so much a year
Drawing a unique picture frame from crumbs
in how the slave master operates exploiting powers
then reading about how the capital's council is intending to cut down trees
that are a couple of hundred years old
this to make way for progress building a bus route
They spout green when really their souls are so darned black
rotten devolved politics will soon devour itself internally crooks
corrupted hosts no amount of fiddling or cooking the books hides facts
blindness a lot of people can see through this ugly veil stealing
Where doctored figures never seem to add up
fraud correct me if I am wrong in addressing liars
those destructive bodies that support the me me me culture
backwards peddling is always looking at new ways forward
destroying the nature of truth replacing it with suffering
In a museum, right there on the wall,
The name of the artwork’s displayed,
Along with the artist and elements used
And the date it was painted or made.
Yet some institutions don’t follow the script
And there are no labels or signs.
Instead, there are folders you pluck from a pile
For the info most signage defines.
It’s annoying to me, extra work, if you will,
Matching outlines and numbers to where
On the wall every gallery work has been hung,
For a plaque would be better off there.
Some museums are known for exhibits so dense
There is not enough room for a card,
But the one I just came from is spacious and spare,
So some signage would not have been hard.
A Greyhound Bus
Scheduled #102 to depart from Jackson, Mississippi
With destination signage for Memphis, Tennessee
The Greyhound Bus Driver was given the signal to depart
Every seat was accounted for and the bus was full
The bus was heading for the highway
Through the downtown Streets of Jackson leading to the journey that would begin
It was night and weather uncertain
Light rain began to fall
Suddenly, a strong wind began to blow
The wind got stronger and stronger
Without warning the bus was caught in a Tornado
Homes and structures were blown away
Even farm animals were also taken into flight
Cars and trucks thrown everywhere
The Greyhound Bus itself was lifted up swirling through the Tornado
What was amazing that the bus stayed intact during their ordeal
The spin and turn
Passengers were in panic
Their thought was this was their death
Without warning, the bus was descended downward, and gently placed on the ground back to the highway where journey started
Everyone was alive and survived
Only minor bruises
It was as if God said, “I spared you all”
Go and tell your testimony about the high and mighty
The Greyhound bus was able to continue their journey
It wasn’t their time to go home to Heaven
That day will always be remembered
Miraculous to tell their tail
The bus arrived into Memphis late
It didn’t matter, the Driver and passenger were alive to see another day
Faith was designated throughout the passengers
Miraculous
I sit and watch
Contentment seizes --
Magic happens
Pathways within
An unseen mind --
Manipulates madness
Logic questions sense
Molehill reservations --
Rapture says nothing
Re-discover pulse
In tired ways --
Let zest escalate
Time comes and goes
Breezy as the zephyr --
Cool tonic water
Opinions stacked
Feedback confronted --
Cynic attending
Islands apart
Sun-tan lotion --
SPF 100
Conflict and pain
Raw nerves mangled --
Sanguine refrains
Word for word
Not much to say --
Only haphazard itch
Cross road signage
Beware of traffic --
In all directions!
Wet market scene
Buying and selling --
Brisk business attends
Sometimes
Life consigns each --
Unnoticed dash
Good book
In small hands --
Reading preferred
Small talk
Short quirky lines --
Brief salvation
Change of mind
Strange affair --
Rites of passage
Leon Enriquez
06 June 2014
Singapore
A soul in flight soars above the grimy midnight,
mist only to be swallowed by audacious moonlight,
droplets. Heart, mind and artery
skip seamlessly across canvass wet and damp,
soaking up the wild blue mildew spot flood.
Chair yoga skeleton figure, quaking in mid-air,
much to the chagrin of startled night owls.
Baby moth or butterfly swept up by artic gusts,
the rainbow in my psyche whirls neon signage.
Blood red flash alert, wee small hours
traffic signal vaulter that I am.
Ghostly cry from rendezvous of past enchantment,
bony elbow echoes at the edge,
neck craning memoir distorted mirror,
a foghorn on mute
Sweet friendship comes in many forms
you worked for years at the local meat store
your presence, the sparkle that lit up the room
with a cheerful smile, and bright eyes, blue.
You greeted all with warmth and care
made colorful signage with great flair
delightful pictures on all the walls
cows, fences, green fields, and blue waterfalls.
We connected, had a bond, you and I
always exchanged highlights of our lives
you welcomed me with a big, sisterly hug
and never forgot to ask me how I was.
Yesterday, I walked into that little store
as I had done so many times before
there, at the entrance, right before my eyes
was a picture of you, and a note that you’d died.
The shock of your death, a sudden fall
jolted me…this could not be, no, not at all!
For I had just spoken to you, not long ago
you were full of life, so happy and whole.
The sting of death, that final farewell
I never got to say goodbye, I could not tell
how much your sweet life meant to me
goodbye, dear Paula, as you go to God eternally.
Written on 7/11/2022
Elan's word?
Zulu's sword?
Heartsichordiums-convulsive-verb
"Anabantium", O wraith of mord.
So is it, it is for Hilerides-Dales,
which green-discourse,
Southeast of Wales
or some other perch
of liaisoned Angeles-porch ?
Is one-way with a steep of glades newly born.
No sooner have we besmirched.
Self.
Nostra-damned-us, Astrogalus,
Nostragus.
Nemean Lion- first-of course;
eat us- at these quatrains,
like a double edged verse
candlelight-consuming in a dance of
strobelight nurse.
Neon-Cry that Mercury-Tear.
Filter-through, Mushroom Signage
of Modern glares.
As is-with directions,
one way streets to the Dens of thieves.
Dropping, dripping, burning eaves.
Robbing hoods and so also
there was some relation at worst-held
at bae or backwoods, back alley deed.
Err thee connection-theta warded-word
to say in it's assumed position,
bemusing Gaias':wraith de morgue.
Wraith de Morgana, r ape Avalons' Mist.
Undo the handmaiden with a new Word?
Unkiss? Disrobe? Amiss?
The Nostracina in turn be as it may.
Apologetics-Hilaridesics,
seems originally as being male; alone,
an Ictinopharctic poet
(nere-accompliced drunkenly-bare.) Was
named as for it a "Father-Door".
Now abyssmal opening, "Abaddon or Apollyon"
for who we to christen in sinful-adornment
of the riding of the unrepentant-whore.
To make her implore(doors? to whom?),
Ihttiphodar-Apath-Anamethat-Anathema,
that fore-in the family to grow-in-swore.
There have come much
tumidity and variety, little understanding
nor humility of season or station.
Of which that may be confusing for some.
Critique the weak, in terms of being. "Able to know".
Is just in it or have you
see to it's evening-glow?
Civilization? No.
Then this, also which I'll have to explain at night.
Among other that I have also,
left traces from the rite,
(their language of love,
of also of a possibly anamallan),
is then saying, (Elan!), more is the pain.
Till that which comes, comes as that Latter Rain.
No?
All other which I cannot know
for thee for it is hermetically sealed,
Bibliopsysicly sown.