Long Slough Poems
Long Slough Poems. Below are the most popular long Slough by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slough poems by poem length and keyword.
One of the feelings that I love most, is feeling the sand between my toes.
One of the smells that is precious to me, is the smell of the salt and the sand and
the sea.
Oh how I love feeling the wind, and the sound of waves crashing against the sand.
I close my eyes and still me inside, and just become one with these things.
I yearn most for a heavy forest, with towering tree's and gurgling streams.
I want nothing more than to run with the deer, be friends with the wolf, away from
people, no such thing as cities.
I close my eyes and I am there.
I love nothing more than to tromp through a slough, waist high in mud, and being
warmed by the sun.
To see foxes and and birds and snakes and bugs, those sights and those smells are
things that I love.
Be it ocean, or forest, or slough, those things mean nothing if it means loosing you.
So I stay in this city, a tainted caged place. You're what I love most, and where you
are is my perfect place.
Life is much more bearable
If, as I’ve sometimes found,
You can strike out negatives
And turn those vibes around.
When you’re quite together,
You can root around inside
And find the place the positives
Most often like to hide.
Then you simply substitute
Each minus for a plus.
It must be done instinctively –
Not something to discuss.
Most of us, though, need a hand
For when we have support,
We have the strength to hear critiques
And slough them off for sport.
I thank my lucky stars because
My family and friends
Are there to boost my spirits when
Some censuring descends.
And with their help I’m back on track
To face what comes my way.
Such comfort means much more to me
Than I can ever say.
Awoke by a nightmare, in cold sweat
dews were to settle on foliage yet
sun was below the horizon still
birds were calm in their nests in chill
rooster had not sounded alarm yet
the darkness a foe waiting in stealth.
Now an eerie silence flaying my mind
dredging the past, mind remorse clad
minced by remorseful reminiscence
Oh ! can I erase the past in silence.
Or if I could retreat to the womb again
And my slough, if stealthily hidden
And frame only my infancy and smile
Cropping edges of my worn out shell.
and cast the past in the consuming fire.
To rise like a phoenix in time and pure
And start all over the lost days in peace.
The blank field is a whitewashed wall
between
eyes and incipient thought.
A neatly printed line
emerges out of nothing,
fingers sleep
as they plant words in inky rows.
Meaning searches for meaning,
each symbol is a cracked seed
shed from a blacked-out window -
brain particles blindly seeking.
There is meaning here,
but it is as yet formless,
what is seen is slough and spillage,
mind-molt
struggling into an appearance
of notion and idea.
Now the word is flesh, a glossolalia,
a mute speaking in tongues, yet
breathless of any spirit.
At once the painted parody of self
is free to wriggle forth,
to sew and bind together
discernable images,
it must surface above the silent page,
lift up the emblematic
as the hammer-arm
of the insubstantial, until deciphered
by other necromancers
who then speak
for the dead-voiced word.
This then is the tipping point:
the space between sight and seen,
a place to speak into existence
the once immaterial
or surrender all coherence
to the un-lettered reticence of God.
it hurts to flail you
on a hill
stood her foot
eyes of chill
hairs of soot
my wicked witch
befalls all
with her *****
and booty call
i was one
to face her gall
and dungeon
of nightly enthrall
she bound me
to ropes
and ecstasy
pills to cope
two whites
does tricks
cure of night
pokes and pricks
my back
whip lashed
attacked
and gashed
the blood
spurted out
every thud
i re-shouted
i cried
candle wax
that fried
wounds max
i cried
she kissed
i defied
her bliss
smitten
more whips
and bitten
with clips
i re-cried
more candle wax
that fried
more wounds max
she eyes
her prize
between thighs
as it rise
i cringe
her rough
fringe
of slough
as she rode
the train
so bold
without refrain
on top
she sang
no stop
from bang
that night
wore on
crying sight
eyes are gone
mindless
of pain
and her bliss
and gain
duet again
she shouted
in vain
as i pouted
when done
hurt and defiled
i was stunned
at how wild
she became
under surface
flailing her game
with purpose
connie pachecho
2/9/17
Rain drops fall fast, like flying frond,
Creating ripples in the pond,
It's pouring hard, just as forecast,
I watch the showers spill steadfast,
Like waters gushing from beyond...
Spurred on by rain, new life has spawned,
Buzzing and croaking night has dawned,
The sky remains dark, overcast,
Rain drops fall fast...
With the rain, my tears correspond,
Thinking of you and our dream bond,
Your death has still left me aghast,
Never have I felt so downcast,
Ignoring my slough of despond,
Rain drops fall fast...
11/03/17
This is a world where nothing really works,
where disappointment elbows out belief.
Behind each spurt of hope, a let-down lurks.
Each valiant voyage founders on some reef.
But you? You've never known a moment's care.
Those lips are strangers to the bitter residue
which makes my only fare. You toss that hair,
and doors are opened eagerly to you.
I've nurtured this bleak love for far too long.
I've dragged it like a chain around my feet,
across my wilderness. No longer strong,
I'm broken-down, diminished, incomplete.
Whatever you dislike, you simply slough.
No hand-me-downs for you, no dregs or crumbs.
Regret has never creased that lovely brow.
You just expect fine things, and fine things come.
I've no illusions left. It's run its course.
I've tried to give you up, resign, recant.
And you who never weep, or feel remorse,
I've tried so hard to curse you. But I can't.
up a steep and gritty track
reach the tops
wilderness reclaims a verge
of wintery snags
land juts and tilts
hauls out
lays treeless
clumps and hags
pitch up stricken soil
heap their marshy troughs
loud the heartbeat
nearer to feral thought
then any numb mouth or ear
slough quag and mire muddle
seep listless
every bog runnel shrouded
to fetch up the feckless
harsh and gorsy
heather grips low
the moors stretch
flat and far fetching
a grappling wind
blears
bites and baffles
a bedrock sprouting
tough rooted and cold
as an ice-crushed vine
clutches
flinty undercuts
wait to pitch the faltering
a tangle of un-spun fleece
caught in barb and thistle
sheep piss in running rivulets
thread through
mizzle-pecked rocks
inscribed
by whatever tortures the air
ravens picket gritstone edges
glimmer wings beat back the below
primal caws that lift and speak
for the standing stones
their harrowing
storm-cuffed history
as silent
as scored moss or lichen
before light founders
cropped spikes snatch
snaggle beneath a lowering mist
or snow flecked haze
a scant anchoring
a shallow farrowing
shorn and scoured
below and aloft
shredding miles
with toil and trudge
twenty years later
son sends pictures
of moors long traipsed
the sky in my phone howls
Yes, I didn’t come here; I didn’t touch this soft body
I didn’t consume the wine where you were sleepy
It’s a long grassy lawn; splendid roof of the violet sky
Where the bed of roses kissed the bared lusty eyes
Long; for long time of my absence made all over void
Before the presence of me heard scattered annoyed
No chariot of knowledge crossed your scandalous lips
Dripping of bloody ink watered your roots of the nibs
I was not dead but lost everything on the planet of youth
As delirious now the footsteps find out the vagrant booth
Burned stars slough off on the door-sill of derelict poet
No classical singer comes to celebrate the letter of duet
Where you are living there I’m living also as the voice of song
The slippy tongue kills our harmony living without sturdy bone
© Mahtab Bangalee
27 January, 2022
Chattogram
I pretend I'm alright
And put my best stance forward
Wear my brave face
Tryin to be smooth
Just tripped on my shoelace
What's a girl to do
Busted, razed, flat broke
My foot slipped off the pedal and into the spoke
Out of focus, idling, coasting on fumes
Myyyyy, mmmm, my oh my
Must retreat to my bedroom
For slumber; ugh - that noxious perfume
I sprayed on today
In the department store
I don't need to tell you
It reeks
That's a big pee you
Oh my
My plan has gone awry
I try to write
After listening to Vile
He inspires me
Perspiring
Thinking bout how to
Ink brilliance
Such as he
Slamming on the brakes
My leg itches
Ya damn flea
Bravado and all
I seem to fall
I spiral out of control
Resilience reels me back in
I'm a bouncy, buoyant, headstrong girl
Go ahead and believe what you want
Self deprecation is my defense mechanism
Keep playing
those cards close to your vest
You're bluffing fool
I know this by now
Prevaricator is a might big word
For liar
As you try to set the world on fire
I see you race away
And turn my head
Pretending not to see
When you visibly disgust me
You're not proving anything
With your ostentatious
Obnoxiously awesome self
Annnnnything
I ain't seen before
And won't soon forget
I'm a rhyming
tonight
Maybe filled with fright
Or could it be boredom
Delirious laughter
G'night
Sleep and clarity are what I desire
Slough off this crap
I know it's beyond time for a nap
My RPM is slowing
My aching for REM is growing
Copyright June 17, 2023 Lori Steindorf