Long Straggle Poems
Long Straggle Poems. Below are the most popular long Straggle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Straggle poems by poem length and keyword.
The briny tears have dried
The sounding knells are stilled
The grieving crowd, dispersed
The parting pain, allayed
Benumbed lie the dead
Beneath the marble vaults
Bereft of power and prowess
Benighted and beaten.
The sun shall never cast its glorious rays
The stars shall never their brilliance shed
The breeze never shall bring tidings new
The showers shall no more drench them through
A thoughtful friend sometimes seen around
A fervent prayer at times chanted aloud
A plaited wreath, rarely laid over
A trite rite, randomly carried out
There’s none left to mourn or weep
Nor anyone to sing, sigh or sob
Leaving the dead to rot in the closure of graves
To life’s alluring charms, the dear depart.
Cold as clay the dead lie so still
To be feasted on by maggots and the worms
Life with all its glory – defunct
Its fever and fret too – extinct.
How in vain we run after wealth
The power and position we deem so great
Shall come to naught within Time’s gloomy vault
Yet we run and yet we straggle behind.
In vain ends our travail for might
Inglorious is our quest after fame
Transient turn the riches, we garner
Short lived is their gleam and glitter.
Oh Lord! Lead us not into illusory charms
Deliver us of our avarice to hoard
For all that is born and made
‘Must consign to death and come to dust.’
Placed Third
March. 1. 2022
'G'. Give me a New Poem- Any Form
Poetry Contest
Subject- Death
Sponsor- Constance La France
Tongue twister line:
From the rustic rover to Samuel Sanders, they try to tickle the tongue with tricky tongue twisters.
1. A rustic rover round the ricks ran restlessly, and restive, he rushed to the nearby rural rill to reinvigorate himself. Then whoever he met, he ranted and raved with him or her with reckless arrogance. Revivified and rejuvenated, the vagrant straggler across the riverbank rumbled and rumbled , and trounced a regal recluse that triggered a fiery ruction. Then another rowdy ragamuffin slapped him hard and a furious rabble raised an unprecedented rumpus.
2. Samuel Sanders, a saucy salesman with sable brow, had an ancestral house in Sussex, but since he was a man of gypsy psyche, of late he strayed into Surrey and settled there for squarely six months, and then set out to straggle across the Sicilian seashore seeking psychological solace in the serene and suave sound of the seawaves.
3. You can't put a better bit of butter on your platter because a martyr did shatter the packet of your butter as it did welter in the gutter, but that waiter did cater you this later, muttering about an utter butter-hater from Gloucester with bitter hauteur.
19th November, 2016
Your Grandmother's Hands--
Misshapen pain ridden
Yet still fixes Sunday dinner
Straggle and worn, somewhat torn
Afflicted with arthritic pains
Barely can wash her hair
Opens up window breathes in fresh air
And a velvet ribbon
She’s had since adolescent
There’s a secret box
That she keeps lock
Never does she untie
Those hurt the pains in her eyes
She made Kool-Aide
Placed in a glass pitcher, HEY!
Empties an ice cube tray
Placing the food on the table everyday
When you shake her hand don’t hold too tight
It pains her the grips you have ignite
But straight and strong her hand unfold
Clasp together when praising/praying to God
So if yet now you don’t understand
These too could be your-- Grandmother’s hands
4/28/18
Poetry Contest - Jamie's interesting Contest 3
Sponsored by: Jamie Pan |
I lie back in the weather-proofed green chair
To gaze up at the flowering maple tree.
Now, touched by sun,lungs full of scented air
I embrace with joy the beauty I now see.
Old celandine show brightly by my feet
Neglected currant bushes straggle round the path
There is no birdsong yet a silence sweet
Soothes my heart and quietens my wrath.
For my heart's sore and anguished is my mind
Yet in this little wood I feel deep calm.
My eyes are shadowed and my face is lined.
May this green spring bring me a gentle balm.
For even in depression and deep grief,
The mind makes healing medicine of a leaf.
THIRSTY GENTLE GIANTS
Animals dread a drought!
As do Elephants
Who are heavier and more stout,
They need to find water fast,
Before poachers find them
And become History
Once lived, now past!
Elephants are patient with
Their young, they are slow
As their little legs
Are short and low.
Nature is harsh,
A calf could get
Stuck in a marsh!
Lions always stalk an
Elephant who is dehydrated
Or a calf in a marsh!
Like a squadron of soldiers have
Everything calculated,
Exhausted, the elephant
Will fall down,
His Majesty still wears the crown!
Wild dogs are
Waiting in line,
Baby elephants
That straggle behind,
Certainly make a fine dine!
Calves are inquisitive and stray,
Mom and Nannies make sure they
Don’t stray too far away,
Like all young, they love to play
But must be found,
As deadly predators
Are lurking around!
Gently they push them back into
The herd,
And continue their journey, leaving
Behind a lot of turd!
For dung beetles this is a treasure,
And an absolute pleasure,
As they roll some into a
Golf ball size, and here lay their
Eggs, and once buried
Await for them to hatch
But far away from
The elephant’s patch!
Water at last,
But the males drink first,
No matter if the rest
Of the herd thirst.
Elephants are not the only ones
At this river-bed.
Fight for possession
Of water includes
Crocodiles, hippos lions, leopards
And more, who’s acute
Senses have also led
Them, to the same river-bed!
Elephants gorge themselves
Despite that predators are in
Their immediate sight
For they would put up a fight!
Water has brought reprieve,
And relief,
For all animals, the vulnerable
And predators alike,
Water is the essence of life,
On planet earth for one and all,
It needs to hopefully, always,
Be on tap and on call,
It’s abundance can strengthen,
But lack of, can certainly threaten!
Surviving the waves of pain,
Loss of three children that she gained.
Flowing into a pit of despair.
Home burned.
Taken away.
Raped until her uterus faded one day.
Left starving on a lost shore.
No hope anymore.
Hair gone short except for a straggle or two.
Neatly braided with an old tin can.
Necklace found buried in the sand.
Ready to try for a new land.
Selling self for the money that's due.
Off on a boat with three hundred and two.
Everyone bailing until close to land.
Not surviving as water rushes in.
Sinking slowly.
Floating back.
To where she began.
That’s jake, said the dewdropper to the bluenose who snorted.
Mind your potatoes, said the wurp. He had had too much footjuice.
The bluenose held a gasper out to the dewdropper. Here.
Nozzled, the wurp stumbled behind the shed, heading toward the hole.
He’s gone to iron his shoelaces, said the bluenose in a haughty way.
Go chase yourself, said the dewdropper. Bring us back a couple of sinkers.
The upstage bluenose looked at him carefully. You’ll be here when I return?
Sure, said the dewdropper. I swear it on my manicle.
You guys want noodle juice too?
That would be nerts, the dewdropper said.
Oliver Twist came up to beg a sinker.
Sure, said the bluenose, feeling superior. You’ll be here when I get back?
Go chase yourself! Urged the dewdropper.
He gave him an icymit, so the bluenose turned toward the diner.
That was the berries, said Oliver Twist, settling on an old car chassis straggle buggy.
The dewdropper told him to scat.
“That’s a rhatz!” the kid yelled, and he ran off.
What kind of phonusbalonus were you feeding to the kid?
It was the wurp, back from his potty break.
That blue nose is bringing the law, dewdropper lied. Let’s book.
Tell it to Sweeny, said the wurp. I’m settled.
Let’s blouse before that bluenose gets back, dewdropper said to wurp.
Bank closed? Sure. Why not. They headed for the motel to appeal to the owner.
Before the crack of dawn
Quickly washes, throws her clothes on
Hustles downstairs in a second or two
In a rush: Instant coffee will have to do
With love she makes breakfasts for her other four
Four lunches too, 'fore she hurries out the door
Sprints to catch the 6:30 bus on her way to school
Unlike other teachers, who drive or carpool
Each bus ride seventy-five minutes of stops and starts
Every one a fresh jolt to her mind and her heart
Yet she's smiling away, calm and serene
By 8:00, surveying her classroom's scene
*********
The teens straggle in, looking dead as doornails
Acting as if they'd just been sentenced to jail
The teacher smiles bravely and begins the class
Her students put their heads down, tone-deaf, so crass
Heavily laden boats, rectangular sails billowing
Under seas of low cloud, braving the fierce Yangtze;
Held between snowcapped mountains, earth and sky
Indistinguishable from steaming mist and rolling fog;
A long drawn straggle of Grey Geese plummeting down
From breathless, rarefied air to stumble awkwardly onto
Plum coloured mudbanks; an unrestrained, excitable
Cacophony of frenzied honking! Then wild monkeys
Provoked into howling each side of the river.
There, at the juncture with Longjin Brook, stilted homes,
Half-hidden by bamboo groves, crouch at the waters
Edge; maidens will come to wash clothes
Whirling wooden batons, twittering like golden swallows;
Fragrant wildflowers enhance their sweetness.
At drab, pale, first-morning light, fishermen cast
Nets over the cooling, placid blue waters;
The fish that swim here are said to be the finest
In the province.
We will exchange Black Carp and Blunt-Snout Bream,
Wrapped in moist bamboo leaf, for glutinous rice
With the clans that tend the terraces inside the fertile
River valley...
Does not the Emperor insist upon good commerce?
If you are dissatisfied as a peasant
You can take the ancient "old tea horse road"
And burden your back with heavy bales stacked high
On a rail;
The road will take you all the way from Zigui
To Tibet...or even further perhaps,
And sombre ravens will soar overhead and taunt your
Every footstep.
But I will remain where I am, in the
Village On The Water
Nestled deep within the Three Gorges;
My life, the endless horizon stretched beyond,
Held in balance as if it were Shaseng
The Shadow Play Stone;
And each new morning awakening to slow,
Chiming bells.
Men venture into actions and adventures bold
To amass wealth and keep treasures in their hold
Claim them as their own for a little while
Not knowing the cruel fate waits hostile.
Sand castles built will topple down
Kingdoms conquered will eventually drown
Their fall will cause resounding echoes in our ears
Unmindful, we move on reckless in top gears.
Trophies and laurels which are eagerly chased
Will be taken away and in other hands placed
Footprints will be washed away by apathetic waves
All we claim as ours will be looted by Time’s thieves.
Even the mighty oak will fall and rot one day
The giggling stream may dry up on its way
The victor’s sword or the gem studded crown
Will be covered in rust or dust with none to own.
Once gone, for us, no heart will throb
Not a single soul will be there to sing, sigh or sob
Leaving the dead to rot in the closure of the vault,
To life’s alluring charms, the dear ones depart.
Cold as ice, the dead will lie inert and still
Feasted on by maggots, rotting in the icy chill
Life and all its vain glory, will be defunct
And all mad fever and frivolous fret- extinct.
The power and position, deemed great
Shall come to naught in the gloomy vault
Yet we run and yet we straggle behind
Trusting in our power and prowess blind.
Lord, teach us not to run after illusory charms
Give wisdom to tame greed that harms,
For, all that men rapaciously hold and trust,
‘Must consign to death and come to dust’