Long Spikey Poems
Long Spikey Poems. Below are the most popular long Spikey by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spikey poems by poem length and keyword.
Daddy brought it home to mother
She did not like it at all, in fact it made her angry
Those innocent tough spikey, sword-shaped leaves
Centered with white rosettes in tight buds caused anger
Today when I see those buds appear
I think of you~ Sadness wrenches my heart
You meant well and that Yucca has spread
There are many white rosette buds dripping dew and rain
You called it bear grass while laughing
Finding it in the woods you dug it up
Those rosettes still in bud waiting to open
Mother did not laugh~ she wanted a lilac bush
Years later I told my husband not to dig it up
Let it stay, memories flood my heart, mind and soul
Each spring when the spikes appear straight and strong
Loaded with rosettes of your laughter~ my grief wanes
Then joy fills my being because
Yucca's creamy buds remind me of your love and joy
How your emotions could change
When seeing the beauty of the simple Yucca buds
I think you were a poet and romantic at heart
I know this is not a quatrain but is more free verse.
the silver birch
it likes to hide
so as you search
at eventide
you find it there with many friends
playing poker through the night
the common oak
a wise old man
an aging folk
since time began
grandfathers of the forest they
speak myth and folklore when they can
the sycamore
with helicopter seeds
sets out its store
among the weeds
then grows to be big and strong
from people’s picnics on which it feeds
the horse chestnut
is the conker tree
the children’s favourite
but too spikey
until they are ready later on
and why kids were late home for tea
the yew
is old
and grew
so slow
its age is in millennia
and battles from the archer’s bow
the hawthorn
its blossom white
and at dawn
as if it snowed all night
then all too soon the white has gone
a desperate case of bad stage fright
the conifer
fir, spruce and pine
a regular
likes mead and wine
to keep it warm in winter then
comes into homes at Christmas time
How did the jungle get here?
Did it come on a train
like an old time circus
rolling in before dawn
while we splattered safety-nets
with doomsday drivel.
A rainforest has invaded;
has manifested out of alarm and
a far too high quotient
of native dumbness.
The clacking of parrots
mutes the lowing of milk cows,
only the cicada drone on
happy to click along.
This green thunder is oppressive.
The domestic canopies of backyards
are sprouting mythic Triffids.
Grass is getting spikey and carnivorous.
Tabby cats are abducted
by prowling panthers.
Giant sloths hang from the hedgerows.
Did we dream up this primal Eden?
Did we cancel
the regular unpredictable weather
of predictable Ohio?
Global Warming
could never have appeared to be real
if we had not made it so
by thinking it so,
and as so many here
think very little -
we had it coming.
Sleep eludes me
Women, kids, money, dreams, problems
Cycle in and out
Numb to the present
I can't do anything about
Run from here to there
Every place becomes intolerable
Where will I rest my head
When there's no there there
And I'm stuck
Well I'm not. It's just
Birds bless this morning
With sweet song
All I want to listen too
River roaring softly
Grass growing silently
Under goose turds
Unavoidable but not intolerable
Life's littered with them
Thoughts fly higher, please
What do you do
Write another f___g poem
About a swollen river
And the full throated song
Of the universe
I'm hard of hearing
Lately
Try as I might
I can't make it sing
The torment away
It could, it can
It doesn't
Just poops on the lawn
If everyone would just stop
Sh____ing everywhere
Morpheus could massage my mind
With delicious dreams
To melt the edges off
Jagged shards
Of our own broken souls
That no matter when, where, why, or how
We broke. Not war. Not hell. Not the universe.
We broke ourselves, and keep cutting our hearts
On the serrated, spikey, pokey, pointy, sharp
Front we put up for protection
What do you f____g do
Plead with the GD Universe to f___g heal your soul
Find some f___ing therapy
So birds can bless you in the morning
So you can hear
The soft roaring river
Through your open window
And you can listen
To the full throated f___g song of the universe
That's what you do
The first turn of a leaf, a constant reminder that summer is brief. The suns slow burn melts into the horizon leaving behind: a colourful show, a crisp autumn breeze and a sharp wind blow. Dark nights soon approach with the squawk of a crow, cold creeps in with the first fog grow. Green leaves fade to red the sight of conkers near. Spikey shields dropping from branches Mother Nature we ought to fear. A crisp crunch of a leaf that once danced to its demise. One of springs creations now drowned out by summers cries. The veil to the under world wears thin, celebrating Halloween by carving a pumpkin. Animals stock up on food supplies autumn a preparation for winter’s surprise.
Winter P’s and Q’s
Poised in the alluring perfume
Of dawn’s first light,
Robed in views of new unbroken snows,
Like winter’s penance of poise,
Palms of Spanish Dagger with steel blue spikes
Send up quick questions in quaint quandary
To threatening platinum skies
Of their intentions to quiver in a repeat rondeau
With the poise of a midwinter minuet
By sending snowflakes to cover the harbor quay,
The gaudy gallery of empty tree limbs
And haunting gnomes of frozen fences posts
To fill the space around their round hearts
Then leave their empty arms entreating the cold sky
Now wearing new identities as porcupine snowballs!
Based on seeing spikey plants in a snowstorm.
Eight words used:
platinum, penance, poise, perfume
quay, quiver, quandary, quaint
3-1-21
Contest: Mind Your P’s and Q’s
Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner
How did the jungle get here?
Did it come on a train
like an old time circus
rolling in before dawn
while we splattered mind-nets
with our secrets?
A rainforest has invaded;
has manifested out of alarm and
a far too high quotient
of native dumbness.
The clacking of parrots
drowns out far off whale songs,
mutes the lowing of milk cows,
only the cicada drone on
happy to click along.
This green thunder is oppressive.
The domestic canopies of backyards
are sprouting mythical Triffids.
Grass is getting spikey and carnivorous.
Tabby cat are being abducted
by roaming panthers.
Giant sloths hang from the hedgerows.
Did we dream up this primal Eden?
Did we cancel
the regular unpredictable weather
of predictable Ohio?
Global Warming
could never have appeared to be real
if we had not made it so
by thinking it so,
and as so many here
think very little -
we had it coming.
I watched the gentle waves lapping the shore
And taste the salty breeze from the ocean air
I saw seagulls flying horizontally without a care,
Spreading their wings in the calm atmosphere.
Politics powers reign and lovers claim romance
Parties began, and the united theme stood strong,
Crowds weave merrily in victory celebration dance
On land, demons ran until the spirit caught everyone.
Summer days filled with hazy languid sunny rays
Night retreat stay softly in the moonlight glades,
The heaven displays a theater of stars for our eyes,
Make grassy meadows appears like spikey blades.
Set the stage for the season of nature to mature,
And let out of cages the cocoon time to grow,
Harmoniously into happier moods of pleasure,
Brimming with gaiety, and abundant love to show.
When it's dark the heat goes where slumber snooze,
And search out of our dreams what reality withholds.
Until fantasy throws open the doors that were close,
To make summer days filled with memorable goals.
Beautiful kisses in the sublime recess of relaxing way,
from the ocean floor we make sandcastles on the shore,
Runners jog effortlessly in the generosity of the day
Embrace lazy heat and soak up the change of employer.
Summer days bloom with love that envisages adventure,
Laughter stays longer, and humor lingers fragrantly,
With smiles that turn heads and eyes hot as fire
Summer is a portrait of time to make people happy.
(*Note- I suggest you read this with a boom box going in your head. Can you dig it?)
Yo,
Now gather round, my brothers ,settle down while I regale ya
with some tales about my lady from the kingdom Animalia,
and it's gonna take a while ,so listen up, coz there's a lotta
things I think you need to know about the Phylum Arthropoda.
Now, mah baby's got some colour and she's lookin' really cute
with her wings so finely tailored that you'd never find a suit
with such material so delicate and colours that just gleam
if you checked out what they sell in Rubenstein's in New Orleans.
Well, her six legs work together in a symphony of class
as from head down through her thorax she can really shake some ass,
though their fronts are smooth and silky, on her calves they're real spikey
food receptors on her feet so she ain't never wearing Nikes.
All the same she gives good lurvin', such a passionate embrace
though I wasn't too impressed first time I ever saw her face.
With her two big baby blues (and they're real mothers) compound eyes
I can never tell if she is checking out some other guys
and I'm careful when we kiss, as she has got one big proboscis
gotta make sure that ahm well away when every time she flosses.
Never saw her family photos and it's somethin' ah should miss
'coz her pupae was damn ugly and so was her Chrysalis.
Though we're going steady now I couldn't marry if I wanna
'coz she says in six month's time that she is going to be be a gonner.
And she only drinks from puddles, for the salts that appetize her
so I sit and watch and crack mahself a bottle of Budweiser.
Well I thank yo all for hearing me and listening to mah song
and I know to some my love affair may seem just slightly wrong
but I caught her eye and she moved in with just her heart to guide her
and I fell for her and we began to- hold on...DAMN! A SPIDER!!!
4th December 2015
For contest 'Butterflies- men only, sponsored by Skat A and Poet Destroyer A
P erchance has anyone seen something fishy
I n the pot of soup we all like to eat?
R aucous spices of refute with long spikey teeth.
A re there some questionable ingredients that do
N ot blend well with all the others?
H ave you smelled the odor, the fishy stench they put out?
A dding a little more water may tame the flavor down.
I ngredients in a broth should compliment each other
N ot over power like the bitter taste of thistle weed.
T aste and see if the soup really needs any more salt
H ere's hoping some spices will not assault your tongue.
E njoying a bowl of soup should only bring dining pleasure.
S o be careful when you measure the spices from the shelf,
O r you might find you'll belch and have to spit it out.
U ntil you know what seasonings are thrown into the pot,
P lease don't let a piranha chef spoil the soup in the kitchen.