Long Thud Poems
Long Thud Poems. Below are the most popular long Thud by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Thud poems by poem length and keyword.
I stay close to the ocean.
Its wild waters surround me,
And the thundering waves
Rant and rave around me.
I see the leviathan,
Screaming at me,
Charging feral,
Like an enraged beast.
It snarls at me.
It howls and yells.
In its deadening roar
In its pouncing gait
In its sweeping rush
In its pounding thud
I hear the wail of a banshee,
Announcing death.
I become so small.
I become so powerless.
A helpless doe,
Before a mighty foe.
At another time
The sea lies quiet like a babe.
Its violent tantrums lulled to sleep.
Its bosom heaving in peaceful slumber.
Its rhythmic beat, its magic, and the charm,
Its depth and beauty all combined.
I see the gulls in the air.
I hear them squeal.
I feel the waves over the sand,
Lapping around my feet.
I listen to their murmur and shout.
I glance at dolphins over the surf.
I watch them dance.
I behold ships over the waters.
I see them glide.
I hear the night air sing.
I feel the spray of water,
And sense its coolness,
I notice seashells,
Half buried under the sand,
I pick one from the strand,
To tie it around my neck,
As an amulet,
With the ceaseless whisper of waves
And the sea’s undying commotion
Shut and encased within!
I am not from Lancaster ain't no tumbleweed rollin through my backyard or brain. when those beautiful snow capped mountains show up in the morning on my front lawn in a mudslide..is not me.
rollin down the dark highway road a sudden thud-a crash into a wild boar crossing the road..how many times do I have to say, that's not me. course I will admit the lightning bugs at night sho nuff are a sight to see and the crickets chirping in the early morn mo pleasant than any alarm clock I know.sometimes the going down of the evening sun provides a skyline that's simply breathtaking, course when I pass the pig farm down the road..i keep my breath whew! and that says it in a nutshell why um not from Lancaster. when my wife said let's move to Lancaster I said whoa now, let's rent a spot for a week 'n the events of that week matriculated to a conclusion..
that's not me.
I have a cat with fur as soft as silk
Always Keeps a greedy eye on my milk
A cutie, I love so much
Sometimes, she acts like a witch
Then I cannot but give her a hard kick!
I have an unfriendly neighbor called Watts
One night my cat ate up his porridge oats
Closing the door with a thud
He sat upset on his bed
He stormed round in anger kicking his boots
It made me feel bad and so annoyed
The cat's freedom to roam was denied
Now she sleeps on my bed
Never raising her head
My angry gaze, she wants to avoid
Nov.28.2022
Children's Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Eve Roper
This summer's winding leaves a pierce behind
Charred traces of her smouldering days,
A riddling puzzle blurs clouds in her mind
When fragile heart cracks glassy tears, assailed
Somehow, this thud of fall pretends to hold
A promise, tinged with sharp crushing of bones
Where forward bites and snaps the bitter cold,
That reels in hidden betrayals unknown
For with this most damn season's turn , alas
Trickery of love disowned in a rush,
When dusted time counters all autumns past
She flickers higher like emblazoned brush
And every triumph over cycles’ spin
Trades wheels of goodbye for fresh beginnings.
Goodbye Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
Pre- Written 9/28/2016
Tickle of rain drop
Touch my numb body
Whispering slowly
Are you really unhappy
With today's reality
I faintly smile and said
It's ok I will cope with it
Wind slowly passed
Near my ear
Laughing wildly
with loud thud
Whispering with wide smile
It's you who trusted them easily
I smile gently and said
It's ok I am used to it
Leaves fall from trees
With tear in their eyes
But with the desire
Growing one day
That will cover sky
Trees smile and said
I loose my supporters
But again I have to live
What's your problem
Who made you cry
I smile timidly and said
It's ok I will also accept reality like you
They march together down the road,
one straggler at the back.
It seems to me her pace has slowed;
at least she has her pack.
The others walk around the mud;
she goes through each pot hole.
She’s down on all fours with a thud,
and now she’s on patrol.
There’s always adventure, to be sure,
on Huskey Mountain Road.
Whatever may ail, this is the cure;
just breathe, exhale, unload.
They tiptoe 'round the puddles there;
she jumps in with both feet.
They are all reasonably dry;
her soaking is complete.
They’re on the gravel, right on top;
she’s walking in the ditch.
They make good time; they rarely stop.
Her progress is a stitch.
There’s always adventure, to be sure,
on Huskey Mountain Road.
Whatever may ail, this is the cure;
just breathe, exhale, unload.
Without a care, my precious girl
embraces dirt and grime.
Oblivious, in her own world,
she’s having a great time.
We’ve simply learned to shrug and grin,
to bring a change of clothes,
and when she gets back home again,
she’ll likely need the hose.
There’s always adventure, to be sure,
on Huskey Mountain Road.
Whatever may ail, this is the cure;
just breathe, exhale, unload.
Arm deals and more arm deals, that's all I see.
Calibres change, the type of artillery
Changes, the game players grey and go and
Are replaced by darker capillary
With greater thirst for bleeding enemy
And with more dangerous artillery.
Deadly toys in the hands of eager youth,
Intended for warding off intruders:
Scaring them with heaps of artillery
So that they would harder prepare soldiers
If the should covet and desire to loot.
In their minds they have peace in their brooders.
But to brood over unused firepower
While only playing with blanks on dummies
Kindles unquiet thirst only blood can quench
Kills empathy for sonless war mummies,
And in blasts of gun smoke the youth's flower
Drowns its thirst in the thud of fall'n bodies.
(c) Nyonglema
Shall I compare you, O streams, with my very veins?
Let me do it; let me see who loses who gains;
My veins fill up my body; full of flesh-and-blood;
Your presence fills each thud, spud, flood and little bud...!
Pulmonary, umbilical, muscular, Ha!
Hearing all these, I, a simple man, stand in awe;
I know you quench my thirst and refresh me until,
Unquenchable thirst is evoked toward God still...!
One-way valve, they say; duckbill valve; venae cavae;
Your works, O streams, I just can't leave, believe; perceive;
You serve as takers of blood from organ to heart,
Your functioning could be compared to a fine-art...!
Oxygen to tissues, is like sun to flower,
Streams, midst sun and shower, like clouds, each reach hover;
Veins in me keep me endlessly till end alive,
Streams assist mother earth to eternally survive...!
13 August 2022
" ...betrayal begins with trust."
Quote_ Phish
Shall I compare you to Judas Iscariot, the one,
Who, like an intimate friend, the trust of Jesus Christ, won;
Worked, hand in hand, like the nail and flesh, or the vein and blood,
Dared to betray him, with a breeze-like unassuming thud...!
As though dropping a precious star from the constellation,
You dropped me without any conscience or hesitation;
You dared to cut off our garland-like collaboration,
Indulged in infidelity and credence castration...!
Was your romance, like the morning glory, just for a day?
Was your passion without compassion and inner array?
Have all those attitudinal exhibitions falsehood?
Are our dispositions as feeble as the fire and wood...?
Yet, can you breach your trust? Can a flower betray the bee?
Can waves run away from the sea? Can fish from the sea flee?
Once given my heart to me, could I be your enemy?
Though values and virtues change, upon truth can't we agree...?
Could the sky betray the earth, or the sun betray the moon?
Or any element of nature their dependence hewn!
History, yet, is a witness dear, in truth or in tales,
...betrayal begins with trust; soft coffins have, here, hard nails...!!!
23 May 2023
As I closed my eyes to sleep
I dreamt of that trench stinky and deep
That lovely place they called Da Nang
That I now recall with a terrible pang
The war had to be fought they said
I signed the slip and sped
As I lay bleeding in that hole
Men beside me broken and never would be whole
Mortars hitting hard with a thud
Blood mingled with sweat and mud
They walked with my half dead body
Amid corpses and earth all bloody
Booby traps were set everywhere
Marching forward for a destination unaware
The screams of friends who lay dying alone
Still echoed in my heart where it is sown
And now that the war was over
Why does every sound make me duck under cover?
By- Tahera Mannan
For Miranda’s ‘WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM’ Contest