Long Spearing Poems
Long Spearing Poems. Below are the most popular long Spearing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spearing poems by poem length and keyword.
His tears faded away
with the most concerning
image of tommorrow ever
seen
modern usage of a Jollux
man. Spearing to victory
or so he seemed
as he speared up
meat and cabbages
for the supper he
had planned.
It would exclude his wife
who wished him
to look to something more
healthy
as he would only smile
at the sight of fat and richly
savoring treats.
He used the term
Beef-witted to decribe her
as she only liked to
shame him
might she find support against him
with snoutflairs
aannd consorted people
"those who wished us apart:
mind you they seek tresure
and lack the concern for your
well being"
he told his wife as she
looked lustinhly at the folk
on the hot busy beach.
" might a need to be apart
from me find you with the studs
here watching you
My Darling?"
She frowned and spoke of his
wonderings as trival and him
as crazy: knowing that he
only wished her to
trusted and true to him
A picture I will paint
a story I will tell
and make it perfectly clear
exactly what I would have it be
lines drawn straight and hard
words that images show
misunderstanding cannot be
exactness is the key
planes with corners square
angles sharp that define
colors I will state
that I would have you see
sky of hummingbird blue
grasses of the emerald green
wind biting frigid cold
sharp sunlight spearing down
cinnamon fills the air
flowers are Jasmine’s and Rose
soft grasses tickle the feet
birds songs clear do sing
hot black ribbon of asphalt shown
mirages dancing in the heat
rumbles of roars far away
wind does ripple curled hair
no room to imagine
no sight for you to see
what images with in you are
there is no room to be
you will see what I would show
imagine not what you would see
my colors of red blue and green
not your favorites be
my scents you will smell
my favorites and everything
there is no room for you
your imagination lies dead
Ebony blackness of cold iron
hard strength of titanium be
winds that rip through tender flesh
sharp knife’s the cut the mind
of your thoughts I do not care
or of what you would see
your imagination I care not of
or of what you would see
somehow this cannot be
this I cannot be
these words I’ll never write
it is not what I would be
soft wonderings half spoke of
hints of sights unseen
leafs carried upon the breeze
to wherever you would be
I’ll let your imagination flow
your images fill your mind
what ever you would see
I’ll try to lead you there
Down a runway skybound
to cross a continent,
see from a window
a city fall away
with bright beads
strung along a coast,
then turning inland,
clumped townships
shrinking to solitary lights
sunk far apart
into hours
of featureless dark.
Disconnected
from the earth,
let the mind paint
the blank distances
and wander landscapes
of Namatjira's hills
and ghost gums
and photographic stills
of outback towns
and along railway lines
spearing the horizon
where a big sun
hemorrhages
into an evening sky.
Then settle back
and allow a familiar picture
to arise from behind closed eyes
of light patched office towers
and stacked apartments
with tall derricks
puncturing the night
as it slides by
in soundless haste.
And way below,
playing out on some
inner screen, follow
stuttering road signs
and arteries of red tail lights
leading to narrow alleys where,
as if funneled into an ear,
you hear the sound of sirens
being dragged
along hot, crowded streets.
In time, let the noise abate
until faces dissolve and life
slurries back into a thick
air conditioned hum.
Doze a little
then try to unpack
the images collaged
across the hours.
Nothing adheres.
What had once
held together seems
to fray and fall apart.
Feel a slight unease
as the engines begin
to throttle back and comence
the slow descent. There,
bubbled on the horizon,
see the glow of city lights
drawing in a converging arc
of flights like moths.
Notes.
Namatjira refers to great Australian and First Nation painter,
Albert Namatjira (1902 - 1959) famous for capturing central Australian landscape including the iconic Ghost Gum, a species of Eucalyptus tree. His work speaks to a deep spiritual connection to the land, something held by his people for well over 40,000 years.
Poem refers to flight across the continent of Australia, East to West, approx. distance 4000 km.
So many voices, some pulling, others pushing, one spearing.
I feel the spear, and know she will not stop until I acknowledge her
What is it?
What do you want?
She gives me some directives knowing I will rebel
and rebuke them.
She never gets her way.
She wants me to do things she knows I will not do.
I hate medicines! I tell her. They do not affect me like others.
Leave me alone! But still she persists. Two are pulling, one is pushing.
She is screaming, shrieking, wailing, keening in my ear.
I take a couple of blues and a pink,
to try and fool her.
She knows what I am about.
For she is in my mind’s folds and recesses.
Another personality shows up.
A new one.
What the hell.
I thought I knew them all.
Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!
My hands are shaky.
If she is another spearing one,
I give up.
I cannot do this any more.
I have tried too long already.
I am Sherenna, she says, seductively.
Hell no. I already got rid of Dixie, my other nymphomaniac.
I close my eyes, trying to drown them all out.
"Ghost Orchid, Violet"
plumes of purple blue
like a burning bruise, spear through my mind
the heart waits for the fall Evermore
with open palms it’s bright core forever calls
the light is blinding like a Ghost
and it holds its fresh petalled orchid stretched out to me,
petals opening the folds of a mind’s ever present dream unfolding
from a shrouded poem, dark embers brightening, a small story glitters
the essence of roasted paper rises
clean and sharp it turns each guache passage
you can hear the pages flip nonchalantly
notes of ink lift the senses like a seductive perfume
plurals write their orchid meanings stretched
volatile pink yet vulnerable across the page
like a revolution violate turning slowly, then,
lights dim and flicker with terrible speed
plumes of purple blue, notes sing blue purple
like a bruise, spearing through my mind
piercing the heart that waits for its fall in strange accords
with open palms the bright core immersed in its evanescence calls
perceived at the shorter end
of the visible light spectrum
a shade of purple with a blueish hue
turns to you, stares you full on
the watchers behind their screens
sit and squander it all
they that think they know it all
bathed in virtuous better off than all
in the end Love
like a ghost orchid calls
like light for lost ships
from some distant shore
violet, it shines,
like the heart burning
its hot bright flame
that dream
that calls you further in
Candide Diderot. ‘25
a cold bitter wind
with stinging drops of rain
bits of bitter cold
blowing into my frozen face
slowly my steps go
up the hill of man-made stone
my warmth is torn from me
by the coldness of the world
steel gray clouds race overhead
fleeing upon the wind
hiding warmth of the sun
all lies frozen about me
crystals of ice with cutting pain
now blow into my face
and the wind more bitter now
does cut me to the bone
dry brown leaves skitter by
with the sound of tiny claws
borne quickly upon the wind
their life all stolen away
dirty snow in shadows lie
about clumps of brown grass
scattered across the land so wide
where my path does lie
my steps do slowly drag
to the summits peak
where my weary eyes gazed down
to the long road that before me lies
the way twists back and forth
no straight path is for me
slowly across frozen land I must go
seeking where I would be
before me does the land fade away
under frigid gray clouds
that the road I pass upon
continues on below
in the distance I can see
bright light spearing through the sky
upon the mountain peaks so high
rising over cloud shrouded land
I do quake in the journey's length
the many steps so very long
if I'm to reach the patch of light
I see so very far away
weariness does leech my strength
fatigue does weigh upon my frame
hope does fade with each weary step
taken on this gray day
would that one could simply stop
this journey then set aside
another path there be to take
to another place to be
yet does light before me shine
upon the mountain peaks so high
though they lie so very far away
on the path that I cannot see
Writers Quote: A Lantern Soul Adrift His mercy & compassion
Ignited by the light of His compassionate heart
I walk through the mazes of life like a soldier without a gun
spearing evil with my radiate sword of old
Bible verses non-thumped, engraved on my heart
a memory eclipses settles deep in my mind
a life time of flint blade motions of valor spring into action
when the chalice, is threatened by dark matter...
Filling my cup with aureate blinding rays from my that I belong
to Him and only Him...
My lantern is lit every morning and it is lit every night
it is even lit during my consecutive, precautious, daily aerial flight.
I strolled appease through the tall underbrush
admiring the tall lush green trees and
the tranquil mingling sounds of the seen and unseen creatures
I glance up into the heavens and admire
the tall green spearing pines as it rebinds
into a canvas painted ocean of blue,
scattered downy white clouds
and the sun radiating from behind
with birds in a V-formation flying in place with grace
The wondrous mountain range with the tall timber embrace
We meet under the rock shelter behind a beautiful waterfall
hidden under the fallen timber and pine branches
The sounds of the roaring crashing waterfall
descending and plunging down into a blue plungpool
forming white foam and rainbow vapors
I rush to his waiting arms
Wet and shivering from the water mist of the waterfall
I look at him with a flirtatious seductive tease
and arouses his blustery Sasquatch fury
We embrace till our heart melts into each other as one
in the concealment of the hidden shelter
behind the sounds of the waterfall
and melt into love
© Eve Roper 4/24/2015
my emotions bleed like a turnicate unfastened
my thoughts flow like wine, crystale off a glass end
the words that i spew surge from my heart
and the shadow of the pen dances in the dark
the candle sways with each breath that i take
words flow like waves initiated by quakes
phrases swim like schools of fish in my mind
populating the oceans with species called ryhmes
the light from the candle flickers when i bleed
as i run the blood of my emotions across paper with speed
quick with thoughts from the subconcious they flow
amazed by the words placed on paper bestowed
lightening fast and quick on the draw
careful not to lose the words in my mind that i saw
spearing each verse with percision and skill
conveying each thought on paper by will
bleeding with thoughts hemoraging with emotions
as poets write thoughts they flow just like oceans
Just thinking of places and times
I had laid my heavy head
So far removed from silk sheets
And a warm comfortable bed
Just thinking, on dreams i had
In raging storms kaleidoscope like
Behind fluttering shut eyes with tears
Spearing through, grounding a paper kite
Just thinking,of an expressions seen
From above or below distant and far
The colour of eyes, lost in that moment
Brewing the droop propped up on a bar
Just thinking, just thought remembered
Forgotten just slipped away from my head
Curtains now closing, lessening light
That time and thought we constantly dread.