Long Tottered Poems
Long Tottered Poems. Below are the most popular long Tottered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tottered poems by poem length and keyword.
The tree tottered
the soil loved the tree
the soil held the turmoil
like a poem holds the lines and stanzas
brimming with the extravaganza of the spirit
The grasses won't let it go
the whistle of the world called
the train was pulling out
the tree willing to join the green procession
There was the sticky honey
and the million bees biting
in the reckless abandon
room following room
Exhume and consume
Yearning for the perpetual doom
There was the effort
Earnest effort
to come out of the savage clasp
the pulverizing grasp
How can you shun the moons
still seeking to bloom inside the nooks of the gloom
We won't let you go
We will remove the hard snow
Look at the crimson arrow
ready to move and grow
till arrived the rainbow
Said the bees
The tall guy had taken away
most of the green leaves
The dwarf one quite a few branches
The dry wood bleeds in silence
A grey compliance
The dark girl had shared the bed
hugging the hibiscus stem and plucking the flowers
as she pleased
as the serpent hissed
the kisses burnt
The tree got aroused and learnt
Time stole the green
The children removed the silken sheen
I am abandoned
Let me go
Let others sow
Me no more
Haven't you noticed the little green folds
from the caring split
Ripples of Narcissus
from the blue unconscious
through the half light half dark passage
emerging on the shivering surface
A mild pain in the cups
A few clouds seeking release through the rains
the light green spike in the vein
The ship cannot be abandoned
till it sinks
The ship loves the blue poetry in the freedom
of wild abandon
The Mediterranean
As wild
as you may lead me into
the deep flowering vacuum
No need to stop the bison
Let’s resume
our sway into the total abandon
For this forest under moonlight I shall not pass again
June 16, 2018
Abandon Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri
Sudden was the descent of poetry on me
I tottered under its weight
My body heated up like the sun
A frying egg yolk on the pan
My blood started burning…. burning
A strange madness crept across my senses
Intoxicated as by an excess dose of ale
Or drunk with the vintage wine
Or by some mystical disengagement
I started levitating
Wings sprouted up suddenly on my sides
I reeled round and round
Flew up and up
Meteors flashed past
Stars blinked
Larger celestial bodies stood still
Strange sounds fleeted past my ears
My heart palpitated,
Like the rumblings of thunder
My eyes glowed like fire balls
A shout I heard afar
Over the heavens’ mysterious rim
Muffled though, I could decipher it;
“Welcome to the clan of poets”!
Around me, I saw multitudes of poets
Young and old, their faces blazing
Like a thousand lanterns lit
In that blinding brilliance
My filmy wings burnt outright!
Like Icarus, from the heights
I flopped down to the chasm below
In the scattered heap of flesh and bones
A faint stir …..
…………………..
The feeble flutter of a poetic heart
Before it was finally stilled!!
What else but weight endless for devil’s due?
And I’d need a few more tests to be sure,
Grimace or grin, but I ought to endure,
What greater devil was seemed like dawn’s dew:
Was it ailment or treatment of elbow?
Grey visions of an endless dark tunnel
Flashed in my mind, as dark and numbing dull,
More than pain, unknown fear churned in my maw.
Take a course of routine tabs to start with,
Your elbow’s whilst under my careful brow,
He said as tinkered it like a blacksmith,
As if pregnant, pain and swelling did grow,
An unknown growth grew within like close kith,
The treatment tottered for long to and fro.
And my mood too, back and forth, to and fro,
Its spectrum, violet to infra-red,
Let’s aspirate the fluid, at last he said,
If fluid is flushed, hope blister too would go.
My skin dulled, he sucked all the liquid out
And felt as if Everest looked dwarf in view,
But both were back in days less than a few—
The pain and swelling too with all their clout.
As I lived normal life as did before,
Pain was to me but tiny irritant,
If only I’d never seen this doctor’s door,
What if I leave him this very moment?
Whatso was wrong is confined to its core
In a small cell-like cyst and all but spent.
_______________________________________
Crown of sonnets | 03.11.2012, revised July 2023|
Poet’s note: Here are sonnets V and VI of a sequel of ten sonnets constituting one single poem called a crown of sonnets. The last line of the preceding sonnet is repeated as the first line of the next sonnet, but not verbatim; nor is the first line of the first sonnet is repeated as the last line of the tenth as is. The sestets are either a quartet and a couplet or two sets of three-lined Terza Rima. Hurt is the place from where light enters, and it did, I realized after my long-drawn medical treatment.
He, a seeker after Truth, set out
on an audacious journey
to see his old master
with a handful of blooms
he paused before the open door.
from deep meditation
the squatted figure, looked up.
in a trance, he saw the silhouette of a man.
on gazing intent, emerged distinct
his former disciple, left long ago
seeing his hands laden with flowers,
the master smiled a recognizing smile.
in close surveillance, the penetrating eyes
gauged him through and through.
the master’s pursed lips opened ajar.
from him, arose a single word-
‘’ Drop”
gentle but firm was its timbre.
he dropped the flowers, one by one.
in sterner voice, the master said,
‘’ Drop”
all at once, he let the remaining blooms
go off his clasp
and down they fell around his feet.
folding empty hands, he stood,
waiting for the master’s behest
after an eerie silence,
once more came the hefty command--
‘’ Drop”
stupified, the disciple queried-
‘’ what more should I drop? “
eyes emitted sparks!
‘’ not the flowers, but your ego”-
instant was his reply.
a spear stuck deep into his self.
as by a whirl wind, his body tottered.
he felt a deep twirl inside.
unfastening the hinges
of the imperious shutters,
a boulder rolled down,
dropping to the ground with a thud.
back home, the disciple gleefully walked,
the clogged fog clearing from his head
ego shorn, here now reborn
in a state of divine transcendence
feeling as weightless as a feather
~Placed First~
8. Jan. 2022
This or That.Vol.9. Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Edward Ibeh
~Placed Fifth~
In 'Ego Shorn, Here Now Reborn' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by-Unseeking Seeker
Athwart swayed a raven 'cross land,
yon cliffs 'n' moist mountains anon 't danced
'til a callous Centuar caught her
'n' made mess ''f graces nature barters.
Ergo did sh' rhino's allure snatch,
'n' 'to confetti crushed sanity's hatch;
her new form "f rhin'cerous raven -
cloned contractions "f pain, wiles 'n' shudders.
Callous Centuar ergo tottered
'wards hankering hemisphere -
rusty raven ñ longer jocund;
jolting joy cramped b' pizzazz' dagger.
Felon fate caught rusty raven;
yore, she'd had nosy Nymphs cloven.
'20:08:01:10:29
Note:
a) of callous comeback.
b) Written apace with the Middle English lexis:
i) athwart - from side to side
ii) yon - beyond
iii) anon - at once
iv) ergo - then
v) yore - long ago
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences:
i) 'cross - across
ii) yon - beyond
iii) 'n' - and
iv) 't - it
v) 'til - until
vi) "f - of
vii) sh' - she
viii) 'to - into
ix) 'wards - towards
x) ñ - on
xi) b' - by
On getting up I looked in the mirror
and to my amazement I saw I was a man
what fun I thought lets have some fun
I dressed in a man's suit and went to work
Driving there in my new porsche
I gave the pretty girls a wave
I got lots of smiles and a few winks
laughing I arrived at the office
Getting a fair few back slaps
as the guys drolled over my wheels
some winks and nudges, suggestive remarks
Hey Joe who's your lucky date tonight?
With this machine the worlds your oyster
listening to their bawdy jokes I hide a smile
And relish the tall tales of their own conquests
so this is what goes on in the men's room
How they would cringe faces red if they knew
that no man was I just a lass who awoke a man
driving home my husband was cooking that night
dressed up to the nines in my best black dress
I had to laugh as he tottered on my stiletto heels
boy did he made a nice woman wearing a long wig
the food he made was no great shakes just uggy
but the love making more than made up for it
Next morning I approached the mirror
and soon saw that I was back to normal
Joe looked at me and grinned in delight
He said I made a better man than him
But we had better keep it quiet
as his co-workers would not live it down
I enjoyed my day as a man very much
seeing life from the other side
written 05/04/2014
contest Gender Blender
As Marion trod the old familiar path
leading to the river of her childhood,
she viewed the willow tree across the river
and recalled with clarity
the event that changed her life
half a century ago - that memory
which for all her adult life
she‘d managed to suppress . . .
She was being chased by Ellie down the path;
Ellie, the fair haired younger sister
favored by their father
and wearing the golden pendant he had given her
when she’d won a spelling bee.
Yanking the pendant from her sister’s neck,
Marion ran into the river’s icy water,
threatening to throw the pendant in.
Screaming, Ellie followed right behind.
Farther into the river’s center, the two girls moved.
Where the riverbed dipped sharply,
Ellie had caught up.
Suddenly the wind blew violently,
The chain with its beautiful pendant
slipped from Marion’s hand
into the swirling water.
Ellie tottered, falling backwards.
Then the river was carrying
Marion’s little sister to the other side.
Marion called out, but Ellie did not answer.
A strong swimmer, Marion swam
to her sister’s lifeless body
on the opposite bank where a nearby willow stood -
witness to her crime.
Marion now was standing where she once had stood
that fateful day. The river had receded with time,
but its current was still strong.
She stood recalling her parents’ bitter tears
and how she had escaped their wrath
inventing her own version of the truth -
that Ellie had run into the water by herself
when the sudden wind came up
causing her demise.
She felt bad, but in the end,
she became her father’s newfound pride and joy.
Something glittered at the water’s edge.
Marion, now heavy and clumsy with age,
moved closer to see. Could it be after all these years?
Yes, it was the pendant, shining in the river’s sludge!
She stooped to pick it up, but lost her balance,
falling forward toward the slanting floor.
As she struggled, a great gust of wind
moved her out. . .farther and farther to the middle.
Before her head vanished below the water’s surface,
she saw that old willow’s leaves flutter angrily.
She could almost swear she saw the form of Ellie,
fair sweet Ellie, beckoning her from the other side.
For Frank Herrera's POEM ENDING WITH A 'CHILLING TWIST' Poetry Contest
...Floyd never left after that night,
all such thoughts vanished right quick.
He found himself with a step-daughter,
and a wife, in the mornings quite sick.
He had to buy some new horses,
fresh cow ponies of the first rank.
He settled down into a family life,
working his father's big ranch.
And though his new twins brought him joy,
and he was doing well for money,
he sometimes found himself still mad
at the thought of O'Hearn riding free.
Two years passed and once again
Beverly's belly greatly did swell,
when Sheriff Tom Black road on up
with some important news to tell.
He handed Floyd a newspaper,
with a headline in bold proclaiming
that away up north if far Oregon,
the villain Jeb O'Hearn did swing.
It read that he had botched up a job
on a bank that had looked fat and swell.
But it had gone south and Jeb O'Hearn
two fine deputies had brutally killed.
The posse that had run the thug down,
of his actions they had taken note,
and the law had barely saved Jeb O'Hearn,
to live long enough for the rope.
Floyd put it down, thanked the sheriff,
and thought of those two fine men dead.
His mind harkened back to Beverly's words,
to the things on that cold day she'd said.
He looked at her now, her belly full
teaching knitting to their little girl,
while the twins innocently tottered around,
exploring their big, brand-new world.
And then Floyd sat by the fireside,
to God he gave a prayer well deserved,
for giving him the strength to put it all aside,
to forsake the blood of Jeb O'Hearn.
The mysterious Mangrove breathes in dark shadows.
The deer roam and graze verdant emerald leafy feast,
Something fierce lurks there veiled in thick meadows.
Monkeys rant beholding a dark-streaked yellow beast.
Even a sunny morning seems to be dark, dark twilight.
The murky rutted soil keeps the treading feet tottered,
Still they gaze not bellow but peek around upper sight
As they feel something moving near them, unsighted.
So many muddy ways lay here untrodden and brazen.
Here and there several one-wayward footsteps of deer
Are imprinted in the hardened slush as if it had frozen.
In the hushed wind resound the numb trumpets of fear.
Evening comes with some hissing, howling, growling.
Pythons make move, tigers tread and cruel eyes glare.
Whole of Mangrove waits with a tremulous quivering
As Nature’s red tooth haunts with the whispering air.
amid the bleats of lambs
and the moo of cows
in a far away manger
a baby, swaddled in rags was born
though despicable in some eyes,
He was the clone of Clones
the one, though Heaven sent,
was the humblest of the humble,
who halved history!
He walked the hills of Judea
with disciples many
healed the sick
met people
lived one among them
until three decades
and three years
the cloud laden sky
suddenly turned dark
the spirit of evil
invaded inside
and outside
premonitions
of portentous occurrence!!
at Gethsemane
the fatal rendezvous,
He sweated blood
as coins tinkled,
Judas through a kiss
betrayed his master
was sentenced
by the marshals of power
and was convicted
Pontius Pilate, washing hands,
absolved himself of his guilt
He tottered to Calvary,
lay on the cross, not by nails
but pinned by love
He poured down love
on those never deserved
to his love, there is no end...
among the hisses of revulsion
and the screams of a vengeful crowd
the tremulous cadence
of an agonized cry
“why hast Thou forsaken me?”
died down…..
did Golgotha’s cliffs echo that cry?
The Father kept ‘an aggressive silence’
The Sun (Son) set at noon
darkness shrouded the Earth
the curtain fell
but on the 3rd day
walked out of the grave
defeating Death and Sin!
Our Lord has Risen….!
to this day
the world
hails this victory!!
______________________
Easter Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Regina McIntosh