Long Sundial Poems
Long Sundial Poems. Below are the most popular long Sundial by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sundial poems by poem length and keyword.
Sundial numerals illuminate
Knowing noon narrow shadow arrow strikes
Flicks ‘round corners of maze elaborate
Heraldic daffodil, dormant out psychs
Lion, amber assured stride resolute
Teams beside mine, admires canter cloud bounce
Trembled meshing manes make brushstrokes astute
Abstract turns apparent, rewound amounts
Labyrinth lane secures our fears slumbering
Canary chortle performs audacious
Honey wine celebrates when Summer brings
Walls torched in lofty laughing blazes
Flung flaxen, fertile wheat fields’ wispy waltz
Scorched xanthe seeds multiply dream results
24th July
Yellow Leo
We've used our gifts to watercolor disease
potter haloes of love into horns of hate
knitting the fallout of nuclear dreams.
Evolution is unwinding at the speed of light.
DNA is strung about on the vine of the ID.
America the beauty, sounds like the death rattle of Rome...
Veins of freedom clogged by the cholesterol of ego.
Our elders sounding ever more unhinged...
In front of the world, they squabbled about nothing.
While her adversaries make recipes for bald eagle meat.
We've chained our children to iPhones and robots.
They have lost any semblance of an attention span.
Struggling with constructive criticism and compliments.
Everybody's pointing dirty fingers, only to be chopped off.
Black hearts and bloody fingers are everywhere.
From the White House to the churches of our God.
The four horsemen are approaching,
Albeit in the thin shadow of sundial time.
Feel their hoofbeats, clacking against cobblestone minds.
Months piled up on themselves,
became a road block.
I can still hear
the sound of falling rocks.
I am concussed by the years.
Bought a pair of new sneakers,
bought a wristwatch that counts steps,
bought a wish and a hope
from a thrift store.
In-between the turning of the days
time flips the script,
becomes a shadow on a sundial,
gives you a plow to push uphill,
the mind falls ill
becomes a landslip
bars a way.
The morning is upside and sunny,
Lilliputian restraints
pop and loosen ligaments.
I am on the road again
but taking it slow
no-place is a better place to go.
Ears pricked, waiting,
suspecting,
ever recalling
the distant sound of falling rocks.
I only tell of sunny hours…
It is the way to dwell on them,
Thus acquiring more light and love.
I only see the best of you….
Choosing the kindnesses of your heart.
Knowing you well, my friend
And if I do not know you yet,
I shine as brightly as I can, hoping
You will come over and be my friend.
I have learned at last
Enemies do not exist but in my mind.
Every person is a soul, and in there is kind.
I only reflect pretty rays…
Shining from a soul that is willing to pray
Missives straight to heaven, to the Lord above.
I have discovered …
This is the ultimate way
To make the most of a fabulous day.
Written February 2nd, 2019 Contest: Sundial Wisdom
Sponsor: Julia Ward
it was in the first ray
of morn it birthed
as your ego bruised
the afterbirth of disdain
smeared your face
then as light filament
moved the hands
on a sundial,
your mask slipped
unveiling the next
of contempt
then I knew
this was going to be
the longest day
I smiled and laughed as you
tore minute pieces of my skin
off my torso into streamers,
displaying your humour
to a world wide audience
but then when i thought
your depravity had found its
limits, it found the next
I am bruised as your ego
I hurt and bleed like you
I lent and found
you get back three fold
what you give out
I feel sorry for you
Karma’s hand is falling.
you hate me now
and all I feel is pity
Form:
They sea me without.
I carry a raven upon my shoulder,
A sundial on my back.
The hat I wear is made of ash;
Sunlight is what I lack.
I drag my feet behind me on sandy beaches.
The ball and chain my ankle bracelet bling.
‘If only…’ is a wish, a fantasy; it’s incomplete.
I never made it big.
There is a line of memories behind me in the sand;
It shows the places I have seen.
It is my reason;
The reason I understand;
The reason I understand why you do not understand me.
It curves around, beyond the boulders
And on through rows of palm trees.
This dream I have, I have always carried;
It has always been with me.
I leave my burdens at the door,
But desire is a flame that still burns eternal.
It lights up my face, when I see her face,
But inside I remain forever nocturnal.
I walk in foreign footsteps,
No guide or friend in tow.
I cross the sea of peace, love and empathy forever,
Alone in my sinking boat.
I carry only what I need to make it to the end of the sea.
The cannon ball attached to my feet,
Is expanding more than I would like it to be.
It grows with each passing full moon,
The only time I can be seen.
I hide behind a smile sometimes,
Before it rows away from me.
I have a conversation, with a man who sells only ale;
His face is full of redness and joy!
My face is always pale.
I take a sip of this rotgut and begin to waste away from the inside.
I sometimes hear a hearty tune and sing!
While all the time,
Inside, I die…
The noise is intoxicating;
The words they speak are so enchanting.
Sooner or later it becomes closing time
And I am left walking away from the dancing.
The maiden’s flutter their eyes,
I haven’t shaved in several weeks.
My life is worn away by the sun, my clothes torn asunder.
They flirt and kiss me on the cheek
But there is no more thunder.
They ask if I would like to join them,
On their midnight adventure.
I have no words, I promise to return,
But they never get a real answer.
They cannot readily see the hole in my soul;
Oh what a charmed life I live.
I try to laugh, so tip my hat…
…a pirate’s life for me.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
The only reason for time
is so that everything
doesn’t happen at once
Albert Einstein
TIME IS ELEMENTARY
swatches of bands, smart
time is elementary;
strapped snug, cosseted
on a small-pale wrist.
coffee fumes and coal
chugging on life’s track.
cuckoo bird on half
and every hour —
oh, why’d it have to stop?!
(salvation in Grandma’s coffee cake)
polaroid portions collecting dust;
ink-streaked down
memory’s bust.
ironic how i can’t remember
the ding-dong digital or sundial
in our own home —
clocks have a mind of their own
busy with keeping its children,
well swept, wound
and educated.
6/29/2019
** Watching Time **
From all analog to any
Digitally shown markings
Of humanity’s invented
Way to watch over Light
— passing or coming —
Time…
In less than a breath,
So, so many ways our anxious
Noting of hours may be halted:
By accidents or by
The Will of Heaven!
Remember ever seelng those once
“Must-be-shown” to the garden’s
visitors? — Those unique,
Stone, short, column-standing
Sundials, marking the hours
With shadow and sunbeams
Since 1500 B.C.E., which have
Long been overgrown — all
Caught up in ever-ongoing
Miles of shade-overwhelmed, leaf-
Overhanging trees, and, too,
From climate affected heat
And rain…The gray, raining
Clouds so thick and towering
On high with the rising
Moisture of all humanity’s
Tears.
Then there will always be
The remaining, need-to-know
Few, who for medical or
Technical or religious
Or any other practical or
Curious reson, will try to
Fix their Heaven-warned
Clocks, and to finally give up
…Calculating to guess-estimate
By motions of the sun, the
Moon or the constellions; by
The ebb and flow of tides
Until, finally, in the far
Places, when necessary, to
Pen lines on paper, or
Like (we may suppose) our
Earliest ancestors, resort to
Notching strokes on sticks: to
Keep track of all the transient
Things that can’t be fixed, or
Hidden…Finally, quitting numbers
To throw it all off to Magic
With all the other unexplained
Wonders there aren’t any ideas
For, and at last figure up all
Those anxious guesses about the
Hour of the End-of-Time by the
Repeticious and exhausting
Counting of fingers and toes.
———————————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 6/8-7/10/2023
Monkey found that sack of cherry bombs.
Now it searches for flint to unleash upon...
Heading for the blackest forest of a rippled past
Shaking every leaf - every barking branch.
Knucklewalking into the pond's depths.
Spitting broken lilies from wettened lips.
No flint there either... monkey-fish!
Swimming in clouds, morphing to a murder of crows.
Talons piercing clouds-unleashing a rain so very cold.
Nothing there either, mad-monkey-crow...
You see I'm the keeper of the flint.
Stored deep in hidden catacombs.
I'll strike flint against cherry bomb.
When the sundial whispers it's time to blow.
l
Ordinary words cannot express the glimpse, this strange eclipse of wonder
Driving over hills, just north of home, it captures first my curiosity
Amid the landlocked green of rolling hills, trees and rocky tundra
Could it be, perhaps a sailor gone astray, whose ship has grounded
Upon the rocky valley floor....so far from sea?
With mast, the sail that hangs so high...pointing sharply to the sky?
This mystery of amazing engineering artistry!
A bridge!....yet, not so simply said, as to be described as bridge alone
A masterpiece, ... as if a giant human hand
Arrived upon this northern California land to craft a timepiece
A sundial, fit to mock, ...fit to rock your faith in any other clock
Where no spring will break, or battery will fail
Where motion works a shadow, which will run as silently as the sun
With a spire that one can see, for miles north and south, over trees and me...
And as the earth rotates the axis on this day
I will walk on glass, across the cantilevered span
Over river wild, and blue and green where salmon run
It gleams as if a giant alabaster sail rules the sea
And when there are clouds it will rest, and all night it will sleep
When the sun lights the earth, then across the land the time will keep.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
For Brian's Everyman's Ekphrais contest
To see a virtual tour of the Sundial Bridge, http://www.virtuar.com/california/sundial/
Or type in Sundial Bridge, Redding, California
This bridge is about 25 miles north of my home