Long Signaled Poems
Long Signaled Poems. Below are the most popular long Signaled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Signaled poems by poem length and keyword.
My poor mother "La Daniela"
As they called her at the Casa de los Picos
In the capital of Segovia
Where mothers and children took refuge
In the fratricidal war in Spain
While their husbands were
In the war between rocks
Bunkers and trenches
In the Guadarrama mountain range
Particularly in its port
Where at the foot of the lion monument
Placed in the center of the road
Symbolizing royal power
And its strategic value
For the defense of Madrid
Between the two sides
And its connection between Madrid and Castile
The nationalists and republicans met
To arrange, during their breaks from war
On weekends
Going down to the brothels of the capital
To have sex with fascists or militiawomen
Drawing lots to see who would be saved
In the war, once again, on Mondays, begun
While the women suffered and cried
To try to get ahead to her children
While her men fought "to the death."
"La Daniela" with five daughters no less
She had no help but that of the King of Heaven
"Who gave her health and protection"
As she herself said
And confidence in seeing her husband arrive victorious
From the Cabeza Lijar lookout
Having prepared his carnal furrow of love
For his long-awaited plow
Confidant that it was true that he was a saint
One of the few who hadn't come down to Madrid
To let off steam with the street-walking whores.
One day, when "La Daniela" and her daughters
Along with other women and children
Were near the chapel of El Carmen
In San Rafael, Segovia
Praying to the Virgin
That her husband would arrive safe and sound
She saw herself weeping with joy
Seeing her husband mounted on his horse
Tired, but happy, victorious.
She signaled to him, called him.
The hermitage bells ringing
The town was all excited
She and her daughters running to congratulate him
Promising him that today he would have his field
Open to all his passion of love
Although to his fellow women
He would have commented:
-That, because of my husband
My was like a cigarette paper
Still suffering well and a beauty
To Daniel, my love.
Born into the family of seven
Handed over the last born baton
By the other descendants of the
Pa Noah “Mekolani Olajide’s” fame.
Her sojourn in life starts from
The far down “Sora”,
Sora to “Odo Alafia”
“Odo Alafia” to the West of “Oraborode”
“Oraborode” of “Odojomu”
“Odojomu” of “Ondo town.”
She shone like a million star in all.
“Ariyayosi” grew up eating the fear
Of the Lord as Breakfast.
Brave and Intelligent “Yemi Mekolani” alias
“Mama Ondo” leaves no stone unturned as
She prepares her self-discipline, hardwork
And cleaningness as Launch.
As charismatic and erudite “Pa Noah Olajide”
“Baistically” prepares “Aribabagbojule” Dinner
Meant to cushion the effect of
Ups and downs of life
All these in the Biblical Ark of Noah
Of the Pa Noah Olajide;s house.
No wonder the other kinsmen
I mean the six others of the Olajide
Strong Spiritual Siji
Innocent Innovative Iyabo
Fearless Fascinating Fisayo
Lanky Lively Lanre
Lenient Lawful Luwale
And of course
Faithful Famous Funmi ,
Gave her all the needed love to
Make her shone like a million star.
Aunty Rose went through the rigous of
Secretariat knowledge as part of the needed
Catalyst to catapult her to Queen Elizabeth palace
Right into the waiting hands of amiable Martins Babatunde
Martino, a loving and understanding husband
Has all it takes to thank God for giving him
A good wife, indeed a vessel unto honour.
The emergence of Sade Innocent,
Later Sade Ronik, now Manchester University
Was the needed tonic for quest for greener pasture.
The lovely wen-wen sound of a new born baby
That signaled Sade’s entrance was
Not enough to distract her focus.
Similola shone like a million star
Then comes the arrival of Saintly Sagacious Sayo
And ever Stylishly Shy Seye on stage.
For the lead cast role has Scientific Splendid
Sade at the back of the stage.
As a Sister, she is a rare gem
As a Wife, she is rare breed
As a Friend, she is a rare specie
As a Confidant, she is a rare seed
As a Teacher ,she is a rare scroll
As a Mother, she is a rare plant.
Alayande Stephen .T
August 10th,2005
7.30am
Packaged for my Aunty’s Birthday in London
Its was one of my earliest poem, hence, the
Colloquial usage in the poem.
I own a Korean appliance store
Protestors smashed my front door
broke all the windows, trashed the floor
then stripped the shelves, but there's more
to this story than meets the eye
I've always been the friendly neighborhood guy
hiring drop-outs, ex-cons, some drunk or high
extending bad credit to help folks buy...
The damage done just breaks my heart
to pick up the pieces, make a brand-new start
at my age makes no sense; it's not so smart
This neighborhood's signaled: Leave! Depart!
But before I go, I'd like to ask
a question that my brain does rack --
Why don't they jail criminals in this country
Where's justice for shopkeepers, like my wife and me?
Smooth, effervescent glowing skin
Free of blemish and blighting toxin
Undulating curves of glossy satin
Red cloak shrouds comely Saracen
At the core a being of fibrous substance
From stem to sternum burgeoning affluence
Delicately woven fabric with scintillating elegance
At close quarters emanating a sweet fragrance.
A free-flowing stem signaled detachment
A stalky divide prevented rapprochement
Intricate, inner designs forestalled advancement
Coarse, deepening chasm threatened determent.
Forthwith, I loves tender began to preen
Steadily peeling through the stealthy sheen
Cutting to heart's core, affections to glean
Loves' seed from ensconcing barriers did ween.
Form:
You silence the noise, from your electric clock
turn on the lights, shower and your coffee pot
Do you feel blame for what you have done
Since, the clock signaled, your day had begun
Hundreds of simple tasks, that we do everyday
No qualm of consequence, cost or whom will pay
Trying to survive, with wife and children we create
No concern of air, sea, land or errors we berate
In life's maze we seek wealth and that better life
Finding lies, debt, plague and fear, in this forest of strife
Spirit weak hopeless, afraid, when any query is raised
behind apathy and delusion hide, earth will be unfazed
Deadly dregs of destructive waste, defiled sea and sand
With befouling of the heavens, mutating plant and man
Creating wealth the priority, of humanity on earth
Pantology repressed, to seed arrogance not mirth
People's voice was muted, for way to many years
Unanswered questions persist, we can't afford to fear
Prospects to correct mistakes to save this great land
Seems ironic to say but, "Are in the Peoples Hands".
The Haunted House
‘Room to Let’ the signage read,
and though it looked run down,
I’d found no other place to stay
since I was new in town.
When I knocked upon the door,
a voice called out, “Please enter.”
“Hello,” I answered in reply.
“I’d like to be your renter.”
A lovely woman greeted me.
She had a toothy smile.
“It’s nice to have the company.
It’s been dead here for a while.”
Outside a wicked wind blew forth.
The front door slammed with a crash.
Just as quickly every window
fell down in their sash.
“I guess a storm’s a-brewing,” I said,
covered in bone-chilling sweat.
“Let me show you to your room.”
replied the shapely tall brunette.
“Some steps here may be rotten,” she warned.
“I urge you to beware.”
Moaning fell with every step
as we climbed the creaky stairs.
The room she showed me looked quite sparse.
Inside was just one coffin.
“Please excuse the dust,” she said,
“I don’t come in here often.”
She wiped away the cobwebs
once we got inside the room.
“It really is quite cozy here.”
Then pointed out the tomb.
“If you like the chamber,
I suggest we both get started.
No other soul will bother us,
They have all departed.”
I laid inside the casket.
It was a perfect fit.
“I believe I could be comfy here,”
I hastened to admit.
“No one here will vex you,”
She signaled with a wave.
“You will find this haunted house of mine
as silent as the grave.”
“I’ll need a small deposit,” she said.
Then, bent and bit my neck.
As she sipped away I asked,
“Do you take traveler’s checks?”
“I’ll take this as collateral.”
She said after she drank.
“There’s no need for money here,
I have my own blood bank.”
August 17, 2018
Sponsor- Dear Heart
Contest- The Haunted House
Title your poem - The Haunted House
Autumn, O Autumn, I have always loved you.
Please forgive me if I've not told you so.
From childhood, you have been most special.
Back then, you signaled cessation from labor;
Farm labor that was very hard, hot, and humid.
Autumn, O Autumn. Is there another as
Productive, quiet, and beautiful as you?
Looking out all around, I see your beauty
In many and variant ways; whether it's the leaves
On the trees or the dust from the harvest of grain.
Or a sea of soft picture-perfect white cotton in the fields.
Autumn, O Autumn, you are indeed the great gatherer of
The seed of sowers, promoter of festivity and celebration.
Your voice shouts from the trees, the fields, the white
Clouded skies. Not the shout of noise, but the sound of
Anticipation, the joys and rewards of hard work and the
'Smile of God' upon your bountiful crops.
Autumn, O Autumn, the sun pauses for your entry. I feel
The tame in the atmosphere, the subduing of your presence.
You have come with smiles and not frowns, with lots of goods
To give to all and not take from any. Your God and mine have
Deemed it so. We are grateful for your season and shall be
Givers as you have given to us.
092222PS
The only pair
Ever to live
High above the tallest building
On planet earth,
The best prone to succeed
And live for ages
According to the Creator's will
To the left
Was the ever shining left shoe
Shiny as the sun that has just escaped
From dusk to dawn
The left shoe that had a skin
That would remain immaculate
Even when dipped in mud
It was the most remarkable,
Adorable left shoe ever to exist
High above in the stars,
High above in the alien world
A world class label stuck unto it
A label by the name NELIA,
TANYARADZWA KUYERI
Yes! The shoe was never complete
Yes! It needed another identical one
To complete the duo
Only one among all other right shoes
Could compact to the left,
NELIA tagged shoe to accomplish
The desired twosome
It was the right shoe
That originated from the foxes
Labeled the foxson's27th
That could make NELIA shine,
Shine to match the extent
That she aimed for
And was the origin of patience
Abruptly, the pair were torn apart
The left to the left,
And so was the right to the right
But still the right signaled to the left
Even from a distance, the right shoe
Never lost its patience
And neither lost its hope
Still waiting patiently
For yet another dark to fall
To resume the adventure
Up above in the stars,
Up above in the slumberland
And currently hold on to that one
A dream to remember...
He lost her that night.
Before-
Weeks after school and weekends,
weather or not,
they had built the fort-
strong, Indian proof.
Father had provided a tarp.
and his father’s High Standard Sport 22 pistol
for wild animals.
The woods behind the fort
were near the old highway
used by hunters, vagrants occasionally.
Mostly deer.
Mother could see the fort’s flag
which she had sewn,
from her kitchen window.
Part pirate, part cowboy.
His sister was good at tying boughs together for the walls.
He gathered flat stones from the dried riverbed
for the floor.
Test night he brought a sleeping bag
and signaled to Mother with the lamp
before he tried to sleep.
Sounds kept him awake.
He clutched the 22
until it got hot.
But next morning he went in to breakfast
and ate eagerly.
He had made the distance.
His sister stared at him
across the table,
stirring her cereal.
Jealous.
The night she came out
shivering, to join him,
she brought peanut butter and bread-
No knife.
He walked back to get her a blanket
and the knife for the sandwiches,
22 flapping in the revolver holster.
Mother and Father were in the living room
Drinks with friends.
They saw him
Smiled, turned again to their guests.
He walked back.
She was not there.
He called and walked until scratched, bruised.
Tired, he fell back into the fort.
She must be back in her bed.
After, Mother spent nights sleeping in the fort
until he and Father moved away from her.
No bones were found when
the woods were parceled,
developed.
He would go back and drive the new streets,
looking for her.
He would look for her
in places where he was.
What are you thinking about?
They would often ask him.
But he could not tell them.
He carried the slight distance beyond which
she had gone,
often reached into it for her.
And found it went and went,
stretching, stretched
away,
like anyone’s life,
except his own.
The drought had swept throughout the land
But under Pharoah’s dream-led reign
Joseph foresaw, provisions planned
So Jacob sent his sons for grain
And down to Egypt, down they went
But youngest Benjamin remained
Then Joseph, hearing they’d been sent
Then called them for an audience
They came before him, bowed and bent
They had not seen him those years since
Did not discern who he was now
Then Joseph pressed, became intense.
“You come before me and you bow,
Yet you are here to spy my land!”
Then quick were they to disavow,
“We’re brothers, honest to a man
And only here in search of food
With humble posture, outstretched hand.”
The spy charge, Joseph still pursued;
He would not let them off the hook,
And so he struck a bargain shrewd
“Upon your youngest must I look
While one retrieves him, all remain.”
And then he locked them up like crooks.
Once three days passed, he made it plain:
“Do this and live, for I fear God.
One will stay here, the rest take grain,
But I will know you are all frauds
Unless with youngest you return.”
Then signaled captors with a nod.
Their shame and guilt then surfaced, burned,
“He begged us, but we headed not.”
Distress they felt indeed well earned.
In hushed tones, secret, so they thought,
But Joseph, hearing, turned and wept,
In stealth, returned the cash they’d brought.
That night fear, panic, over-swept
Them all on looking at their grain
Seeing their coins then, they too wept.
How it was there, none could explain.
“What is this God has done to us?”
They cried, returning home in pain.
Yes, down to Egypt, down they went
Not understanding they’d been sent.
(from Genesis 42:1-28)