Long Stones Poems
Long Stones Poems. Below are the most popular long Stones by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stones poems by poem length and keyword.
The words strut & rust can be derived from the mechanism of Trust,
Trust could not exist without doubt,suspicion and the possibility of failure,
would I desire Trust if I never had it,or couldn't have it,
many things to Trust such as creatures,currencies & concepts,
we can sustain faith in ideologies,instincts,and inspirations,
my first Trust must have been Mother,
second being invulnerability to death,
trusting the search and trusting the treasure of experience,
believing that if a man is a king for a moment then he is a king for a lifetime,
if courageous once,then gallantry can carry me again,
Trust is everything I have,it is everything that I've done
and everything that I will produce,
Trust is the morning rhythem telling me I can survive the dare of Day,
I can feel suffering yet surge,
the trustee of my Soul's account,
Trust delivers the itinerary of my intentions to the Eye of God's equity,
a warm water soothing the sting of society's satire,
bringing me to the tabernacle of plumb testimony,
trusting Life to give opportunity
and Death a passport beyond the portcullis of charity's charm,
finding gold in broken stones,
giving grief to the wicked & comfort to the confused & conquered,
to Trust that living a good Life is about developing strengths,
preventing stress from tresspassing upon your soul,
geological gusto on the rim of my religion,
I look at graveyards and say okay -
J.A.B.
blacken clouds like boulders rumble
racing as spears of light flashed down
howling the air rips over the dark darkened land
tearing at all stand before it
wild crashing aquamarine peaks flung high
roaring thunder crashing trembles the very air
tearing ripping clawing at the shore
retreating waves pulling carrying away
banners wildly flapping in the tearing air
ripping torn to tatters streaming in the wind
symbols of mere men against nature fails
snapping popping flapping quickly torn away
trapped within the rock's cold
seeking to find escape
climbing up to the battlements
longing to be free
white linen by the wind and rain formed
pressed against the trembling flesh
hair blonde torn from the pins
flowing in the wind
towering above the crashing surf
bare rocks lie exposed by time
buttress mighty bearing up
ancient castle in the sky
water tears at tiny rocks
flowing they fall away
larger stones then are free
to slip and fall away
ancient way of Roman stone
ascends from plain below
twisting turning up mighty slope
to plateau where the castle reigns
armor tarnished no longer bright
dents and scratches beyond repair
stallion mounted ascending up
wearied by journeyed long
boulder great long buried within
beyond all knowledge of man
now kissed by the ocean waves
as surroundings stone washes away
dungeon steep cold and dank
begin to slip and crack
as cold water slips within
and founding stones slip away
quiet trembling grow beneath
movement slow begins
mighty rocks now slip away
roaring sea claims it all
I was strolling through Evergreen Cemetery the other day,
Glancing at epitaphs etched upon various stones along the way.
Some flowing verse was out of this world but I can only assume,
That the authors were forthcoming in how they met their doom!
"Should an inconsiderate bird upon my stone alight,
Please do me a favor and remove the blight!"
"Here reposes a dude who tried to rob a lady teller,
But she was a keener shot than this unlucky feller!"
"Here sleeps ace pilot Captain Cletus Cole;
His wings were clipped attempting a barrel roll!"
"Here reclines butcher Clyde who cheated on his wife.
Unknown to him she was also adept at wielding a butcher knife!"
"Here lies Hank his mortal shell riddled with lead.
He was nabbed rustlin' steers and the sheriff shot him dead!"
"Here is deposited the corpus of Eddie a top-notch baker.
He is now serving assorted donuts to his beloved Maker!"
"Please relay your regards as by this way you pass,
But for heavens sake, keep off the cottin' pickin' grass!"
"On a banana peel the dear departed slipped and fell.
We pray he landed in paradise and not in hell!"
"He didn't know his Volkswagen had all that power.
He met his doom head-on doing 90 miles per hour!"
"Fer nigh on 40 years old Hank rode this earthly range;
Now he rides in that final roundup on that heavenly grange!"
"Gambler Jim has left very few friends behind to grieve;
He was caught with a couple of aces up his sleeve!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Eternal Embrace
Come
Wounded pilgrim
Enter
Thru portals never closed
To the eternal embrace
Of the dancing Spirit –
Weary warrior
Take off your armor
Leave your shield at the gates
Of luminescent pearls
Built up on stones of amethyst topaz;
Abide
In the new Jerusalem -
No confusion –
No chaotic traffic -
Tears banned -
Shadows banished
In the never ending burnished light -
Peace raised as a standard
Over many mansions
Beside the crystal river
Flowing at the invitation of the Lamb -
Floating scented leaves with
Healing for the broken nations
And fractured kingdoms;
Rest
Lay your head
Upon His mighty shoulder
Beneath the trees
With fragrant fruit
That exiled winter never touches;
Never again separation
By awkward choices
In this eternal chrysalis –
Time unchained;
Meet
In chanting Psalms of celebration
The voices
Welcomed here
Before your footsteps
Entered this city -
Ever living in the eternal smile
Of the Creator’s
Never ending grace.
Amen and Amen!
6/1/20
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Contest: Heaven
Of all the memorials I've come across
Acknowledging heartbreak and sorrow and loss,
The stolperstein dotting the streets of Berlin
Have reminded me most of what shouldn't have been.
These bricks made of brass are the work of one man*
Who, as part of a project, came up with a plan
To commemorate victims the Nazis had taken
Away from their homes, where their lives were forsaken.
In English, the "stumbling stones," as they're called,
Are carefully crafted and later installed
In front of the buildings where Jews did reside
And were forcibly moved though they pleaded and cried.
Each brick (there are thousands) has name, age and date
Of the person who lived there and suffered the fate
Of a horrible torturous lead-in to death;
Inscribed, too, are camps where they took their last breath.
Memorial sculptures and artworks abound
Wherever a Holocaust victim's been found
But to me, these brass bricks are the most poignant yet
And an image I know I will never forget.
*Guenther Demnig
FICTIONAL EMOTIVE WRITE
Since I was a tiny baby I was brought up by my grandparents and had a very happy childhood. I knew that they were not my real parents but they gave me such love that I didn’t ask any questions for fear of upsetting them. Grandma’s eyes would mist over any time anyone mentioned my parents so I knew something bad had happened to them
Whispers in the hall
The child is too young to know
They passed so quickly
I left home at 20, married and moved to a small town about 50 miles from where I grew up. I was always in touch with my grandparents, but over time old age crept upon them and I recently cleared the family home when grandma passed away. I discovered yellowing newspaper cuttings, which told of how my parents had been killed in a horrific car crash, it also detailed their final resting place in the local cemetery.
Family secrets
Scrapbook of old photographs
My parents smiling
Dawn is breaking and dappled sunlight streams through the trees. A veil of grey swirling mist shrouds the cemetery. I pull my shawl closely around my shoulders and begin my search. Strands of ivy hang down from the towering yew trees, its dark green tendrils wrapped around the grey granite graves clinging so tightly as if it was trying to hold up the graves like a puppet on a string. The fallen gravestones remind me of decaying teeth with many gaps where stones had crumbled with age and neglect. I walk slowly, reading the names of those who now had eternal rest. Eventually I found their grave at plot 142, where a marble angel watches over them sleeping. I scrape off the thick lichen, which obscures their names. Tears fall and I hug the gravestone wishing I could embrace my parents for real.
I greet my parents
Stone cold grave gives me closure
Heartbroken child cries
09~26~16
Contest Overgrown With Vines Sponsored by Broken Wings
submitted to ''H'' Contest, New or Old Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Ode à Une Femme Sauvage
The sun drank the water
From the leaves below the flower
While the moon tore the flesh
From the roots that made that day
But living past the dream
From the slit of eyes did gleam
The bloom called the barren queen
Now her prize did give away
In the stall of pig and mire
In the nightmare of desire
The pagan films the fire
Of the bloom behind the scream
For trinkets, lights fall flashing
She lets the cameras eye start catching
The flight of youth that’s passing
while her petals fade to gray
Now naked and forsaken
For the prize her soul was taken
Upon the bed her earth is quaking
But forever is the stage
For the flower loves the money
and the moon, her milk and honey
Both unfulfilled lost and hungry
The web catches those who play
While living in the shadow
Of the thing we call tomorrow
Break the bone to taste its marrow
And set the stone upon the grave
For the lid of the coffin
Is the thing they find most often
Tears of rain falls to soften
The earthen sheets in which they lay
Say nights nightingale so hollow
Fly her youth unto the morrow
Just a flower on time but borrowed
Is the maiden made a slave
But cast not your eye in judgment
Those stones be they so isoquant
The caster as much the recipient
For is it not everything she gave
Oh God hear my cry
For this creation of man
Is the foolish of all your creation
Will they ever seek your face
For since the tower of babel
When they were so wise
As to seek to build a temple to reach you
With the work of there corrupt hands
That they might walk up a tower
To inherit life and see your throne
For you had to harden there heart and minds
And scatter them across the Land
And make them speak in different languages
So they could not communicate this plan
As to not even know which tribe to follow
In this time they keep evil at their finger tips
It's more rampant in every direction we look
And, heard flowing through out these tongues.
Which, can not hide the fruits produced.
To see them walking so blind with
grave stones they carry on there back
Instead of the cross from you son
Carried to give us life
They we might be brought forth
Into this New Humanity with the spirit
Circumcising this earthy flesh
That we might see the beauty again
In man your most prized creation
To see color no more in there presence
But feel the spirit flowing that connects
The ones pulled out of darkness
For they do not even have to communicate
They can see your presence through the eyes
Which reveals the window to the soul
And be able to have access to achieve
This walk together in spirit and love
For, they have seeked your face
With a broken spirit and willing heart
And have been transformed
Into a new creation that has eternal life
Eminent Doctors and professors
Did meet, at a prominent place
For their prominent feats
After much preamble; they sat down
Face to face; their table was long, a
Shiny space.
Their gizmos and gadgets the very best
They spoke on many topics from health
To outer space; even vests.
Rarified though not verified; their thesis’s
Verged on stultified
Unabashed they all rumbled along; it caused pain in the ears as it
Lingered long!
And so their attention arrived at God
His attributes they sifted with grimace
And nods.
Then came; the summing up to wit’
Now I’ll disclose it bit by bit
He never lies, or brags Himself; yet holds
Position on the highest shelf.
A stage that none could ever attain,
No matter how worthy or how they trained!
He always had an answer ready, He made
The stoutest men unsteady
He always did just what he said. And He
Claimed He would judge the quick and
The dead!
He had that Son of great repute, yet who kept gutter company all
This is forsooth
Such discrepancies and such power and
Pride I felt their indignance; and chagrin inside!
There we have it; 70 voices intoned' as each came to the table
Each placed a stone
He has no intelligence; in unison they all groaned, it’s extreme
Autism. He’s as dumb
As these stones!
©Joe Maverick 6-12-2021
I am missing you mommy, so I took the bus
to visit today. Oh, the p a s s i n g scenery is so lovely . . .
I am lost in a sea of green swaying trees,
in my hands I hold RED roses from my garden-
I open the heavy gate . . .
to rows and rows of infinite s h a d e s of grey stones
and the liquid murmur of birds- r e s t mommy
in peace . . .
under this w e e p i n g willow tree -
____________________
May 14, 2017
Free Verse/Under This Weeping Willow
Copyright Protected, ID 900444
Written for the contest, One of Five/70 words
sponsor, Laura Loo
First Place