Long Tally Poems
Long Tally Poems. Below are the most popular long Tally by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tally poems by poem length and keyword.
It is easy to forget that in the main we die only seven times more slowly than our dogs.
Jim Harrison (1937 - 2016) - The Road Home
First Bobo, a cocker spaniel,
I remember only from pictures.
He ran way before we moved
to Canada when I was four.
Second Kizzie, a cockapoo, Mom got
when the family moved to Texas.
I only saw her on holidays and such
as I stayed in Canada. She lived
long and was with the folks when they
retired to British Columbia and was
into her teens before they put her down.
Third Sadie, 3/4 Newfie - 1/4 Bernese,
a big black dog, with a big appetite
for apples from a special tree and
the socks our daughter, a toddler
cast off around the house.
I still chuckle remembering
the scattered remnants lining
the farm lane that spring.
She was over ten, and in pain
when we put her down.
Her ashes remain in an urn in the garage.
Fourth Rizzo, a fencejump cross of
Gordon Setter and Belgian Shepherd,
my wife and daughter got him from
a friend, while I was off on a canoe trip.
A headstrong dog who would take off after
a scent or car to return when he pleased.
On leash, he'd almost pull you off your feet.
With age, he grew territorial and
after the third biting incident, I took
him to the vet to be put down.
But she gave him to an older lady
with a fenced yard who put thirty
pounds on him and he lived to
fourteen or fifteen.
Fifth Hailey, who was five when
we got her from the shelter.
A Border Collie - Shepherd cross
and definitely our daughter's dog.
She'd bounce foxlike through the fields
and on evening beach walks, loved
to fetch sticks we'd toss into the waves.
She was over fifteen and failing when
we put her down, days before
our daughter's wedding.
No urn this time.
Sixth Xena, a Shepherd-Collie cross
and beyond doubt a princess
but more sweetheart than warrior.
She has the canine equivalent
of ADD and a bark first policy
when something new appears
and will retrieve sticks or balls
until your arm falls off .
At over eight, she's running strong.
Seventh, Sam, a mostly Shepherd mix,
she's our most 'rescue' rescue dog,
smart, loyal and obedient
a wantobe lap dog with a feral streak.
She responds in kind to aggressive
dogs and we muzzle her on walks.
Now five she'll be with us for a
good while to continue the tally.
Sopheceles studs chorale the Martyrdom call 'ems
ant-chant Thyme dash and Cheyenne bled-cles
and Mud Squadrorns dove colorblind
Link on-a-role spiked with trail and errs past
Prosed Persident Mar. Argo near Key Bask Lame
22kay ears like Bugs Sunny and Share sin-Gold
may-jar-of-tea of her punched shingles made
class sick of nerds of those Stolen Wars
They kicked-dirt-eyed others
The Survivors Tell-A-Cast close familiars were
Cons in tents and I-glues and tippies of homelessness
that Pros address, re-Moat of the Capitol Hill
Masqued based on perverts of those floral nature
hyper-ethical breathes a gnu presence
that will halve all life kind existent
clueless to the verve climb
The prophetic reel cavity of the Whooping Cranium
hell-bent, Como tally vu: Straght dope,
Comme-ci comme-ca: Same-o same-o,
Je parle un peu francais: Do you speak French?
Heaven-sent, Das ist richtig meinen freunde:
That is right my friends, "Danke schon dahling
danke schon": Thank you darling thank you,
Sprechen si deutsch: Do you speak German?
Affect boredom-lain, racial sophistry
as skin tones raze issues tossing shade
a constant advent for hair-raising accidents
electrocution and the radio activate channel
Kamehameha lost his underwear
and feared the recent conversion of his mythological
ancient high priest HewaHewa of the old gods
heeded Missionaries to overthrow the Heiaus/temples.
My ohana/family Heiau Waha Ula/Red Mouth is Pele's
temple where human sacrifices were done by warriors,
placing those sacrifices' heads on a large rock in the middle
of the Heiau and bashing their head with a heavy club.
Waha Ula Heiau was the last torn down fearing Pele's curse.
After his warriors destroyed Pele's Heiau, on their return
to Kamehameha's Kohala home, several hundred
of warriors died in the lava pit, immortalized in Volcano.
OMG? Can I use MayDay in the month of June?
to see if I could be
quiet enough for the barred owl
or the pileated woodpecker
to turn his beaded eye
towards me
I wish I could
do more than type keys
that stand for letters
that add up to words
that tally up to meaning
in the early evening,
surrounded by browning leaves
as I also age
on solid ground
Play 'Stay'
by Jackson Browne
for sentimental reason
at 2 AM when I don't want to go home
This is living in 'Our Town'
by Thorton Wilder
Emily's monologue
is always worth a listening crowd
"Good-by to clocks ticking....
and Mama's sunflowers"
Don't forget "hot baths"
because if you never had one
you just wish for water
Oh Pup, why couldn't I go to the stable with brother,
there are stallions there and a foal with the red mare
to the hounds he's going, to chase foxes with father.
I can hear the brass horn sound, can you hear its blare?
Mother says little girls can't go. It's really not fair!
I can ride, I can too! Hear, I'm talking to you.
Yes, I know, I know, puppy you wanted to go too.
I've got a hobby horse, could you be a fox?
We'll play run through the meadow and scream tally-hoo.
I bet you, we could play hunt without shoes and socks!
* See About the poem for the Picture
Contest: Briton Reviere
Painting: Sympathy
OH Let it all become known far and wide all over the cities, towns and country sides, "You are braver than you believe Stronger than you seem Smarter than you think & Loved more than you know."
Do you honestly consider yourselves to be actually brave? When merely getting out of bed in the morning is taking a risk? Those of you who boldly get inside your automobiles, and public transit are braver than you know. Why because you are entrusting your lives (and the lives of your passengers to complete strangers. it has become both acknowledged and claimed to be true.
Let's face our grocery store clerks do a really good job of bagging our grocery items. Sometimes they over load the bags and make them too heavy. However there are certain advantages to either being female, or senior citizens. When you instruct them to lighten your load, they do it. In certain stores the cart people wheel your grocery charts to your cars or trucks etc. You are stronger than you seem.
You are smarter than you think. So what if you have to count your numbers on your fingers and/or your toes? That doesn't mean that you aren't smart! You can add up and tally the columns of figures that way. Of course Smart phones may be able to perform mathematical functions.
You may struggle with math, and yet excel in the American English Language. You may be able to compose a sentence and yet struggle with even simple spelling sometimes!
And you are loved more than you know! We are instructed by the good book more commonly referred to as the Holy Bible. "To love our neighbors as we love our selves. And to also love one another as He first loved us." This is the greatest of the commandments!
"You are Braver than you believe
Stronger than you seem
Smarter than you think
& Loved more than you know."
Those words are sound advice and words to the wise. Following in their footsteps of those who have gone before us. And becoming pathfinders to the up and coming future generations.
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
April 16, 2021
They tally the dead in columns of light,
but no ledger holds the weight of a child’s last breath~
the way it lingers, unspent, in the air,
like a kite cut loose from its string.
War has no pockets deep enough
to carry all the excuses we stitch
into its uniform. Every bullet
that misses its mark
finds a name anyway.
And what of the hands that never held a gun,
only bread, only the hem of a mother’s dress?
They become the subtraction
no one speaks aloud~
the hollow where laughter once lived.
And what’s left?
A remainder called guilt,
sticky as jam on a rifle stock,
thick as the lies they stamp onto medals.
War doesn’t solve.
War is the long division
that never ends.
Flashes of combat
of the rising tally from both camps
in a war that is faintly remembered
Flashes of training with the commandos
flashes of training with the marines
Flashes of action imprinted in memory
Taking out his bottle of pills
swallows three white pills
sleep quickly finds him
Dreams starting but they are peaceful
for he fought only on conviction
and clarity of purpose
The defender in battle
was declared messing in action
and now hes missing in action
lewis k nyaga
KFS...
A dedication to all the privates
who have served in active
combat... peace.. shalom
A celebration was held by the Angels,
Heavenward late yesterday night.
And hide from the moon spirit labels,
Eyes staring in the twilight as first light.
They needed to escape animosity,
And stay away from bitter anger.
They took a dim moon with velocity,
I held my fun back with a sharp clangor.
The moon and heavenly body in the rearview,
They inspire a mad dash for the host star.
I am in the spirit realm of my bare gyps too,
Join the sun club and cross where you are.
Watch out for brimful smiles and sharp gazes,
How to hypnotize where sun is in a saffron blaze.
Straight hair and a toned body were striking,
It erodes and dulls, you can't view a liking.
A wicked beast hunts humans for their flesh,
She will do it again and the tale will start afresh.
Nobody was aware of her murderous tally,
Hundreds may have fallen into an alley.
And, as you slept quietly in that stance,
She sneaks into the kitchen, sing, and dance.
A steak knife was used to cut the meat,
She will slice your neck and kill you with conceit.
Written: October 15, 2022
Captivation Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
I feel like Archimedes building calculus from scratch;
Got a lever I can lean on, but the fulcrum doesn’t match.
You’ll find them on the scoreboard
And every roulette wheel.
They help you cheat at blackjack
By sweetening the deal.
I feel like Isaac Newton making gravity a game,
Setting poetry in motion, riding Kepler’s horse to fame.
They figure into interest rates
to calculate the yield,
And help the fans identify
The players on the field.
I feel like Alan Turing cracking codes at Bletchley Park,
Decrypting the enigma of injustice in the dark.
They calculate the census,
And quantify amounts.
They’re handy for those vultures
Who tally body counts.
I feel like when Bob Seeger sang of bad arithmetic,
And rocked his Silver Bullet Band in Hindu Arabic.
They give a helpful estimate
Of what we’ll have to pay.
Just amortize your mortgage rate
And wait for Judgement Day.
One day - a beauty, a blessing, a boon.
One day - a promise, a prospect, a pledge.
At times a faint hope of the unobtainable,
at times a great vision of what's to come.
One day, I yearn to be among equals once more,
to allow wit, warmth, wisdom and wonder
to again have their time in the light around me -
one day to see them, too, have their day.
One day, I long to finish this hateful accounting,
to forever close this tedious, tiresome tab;
to stop thinking, over and over, of the fateful tally:
one more day down, one more damn day done - each day.
One day - the best benefaction for the besieged.
One day - the preeminent panacea of the plagued.
One can keep going, keep fighting, given that one day;
can change it all, if they can only hold on - to one day.