Long Tract Poems
Long Tract Poems. Below are the most popular long Tract by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tract poems by poem length and keyword.
I saw a sundrop in a field,
a daffodil to be exact,
stand brave upon the snow-filled tract.
In blighting cold it would not yield;
long since its fellows disappeared
to that one spot it still adhered,
though flurries did the winter wield.
The autumn did its namesakes in
before the hoarfrost could begin
and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
with falling rain becoming snow.
The way of death it would not go
as though behind a covert shield
that kept its sunlit attitude
when sleet unto the land ensued.
I saw a sundrop in the field,
in blighting cold it would not yield,
though flurries did the winter wield
and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
as though behind a covert shield.
11/15/17
Gazing across the Trailer Park morning dew glistens on overgrown lawns, as the sun rises, empties strewn randomly in the grass sparkle like jewels in this dawn of day. Saturday night has past, Hank Sr has fallen silent, distant echoes of Stand by your Man and the wailing of police sirens, shouting and gun fire ebb from my mind. The prayers of the neighbors wife heard through the walls at 3am "oh god-oh god-oh god" have apparently been answered, silence stills this morning.
Hot coffee flows and warms my tired bones as the roaches scurry across the kitchen floor seeking refuge from the invasive light into the dark recesses of a cockroach underworld. A constant flurry of church vans pass by my window, come to gather those that have repentance for their sins of the previous Saturday night. A house-coated neighbor groans as she reaches for her morning paper, the folds of her belly fat strain the vertebrae that have given her the gift to walk upright to the kitchen for yet another jelly roll.
Some would see this community as a melting pot of emotional turmoil but what lies within this spiced stew is nothing less then life at it's purest form. Instinct, or whats left of man after crawling from that slime pool of life. There is no pretense of society or false empathy, nothing less then want and need. The establishment of being ruler of a 30X80 tract of land, King of all that their drug and alcohol induced visions might encompass.
I watch from the window of my kingdom, It is the dawning of a new day and life begins again.
RC
Ghostly frail figure,
that I am now,
neath nebulous moon,
where I shed tears,
on brambled verge,
as thin bones quake,
emaciated earthly being,
whose nocturnal solace,
bereft of suave signage,
with a deathly sickness,
icily immune to healing,
taut threadbare skeletons,
prone to clinical diagnosis,
never fugitive in closet,
nor courtroom strict sanction,
cordoned off camera setting,
where splurge of guilty scruple,
in atonement an utter ruse,
yet musings mercurial lurk,
as the net of darkness threatens,
indignant isolate me stranded,
whilst casting mirrorlike,
reflections shed under veil,
of midnight mosaic,
on my mishap strewn life,
due to brittle bony,
fragmented awkwardness,
that wreaked wild havoc,
with long term intimate bonds,
commonly entailing excess,
swing by to overflowing wards,
I eschew self-pity, period,
so vain and vacuous,
alien and anathema,
barren rattle cerebral
sqeamish stream of,
inlaid tract,
rumination razor-sharp,
from emaciated mortal,
whose stealthy lurch,
is frame vulnerable,
torrid touchstone,
as skeleton key,
gaining ingress to,
stubborn locked doors,
syndrome blight,
hailed as,
lean skinny shell,
resignation rare,
stoic coexistence,
copper-fastens
Aghast at explosive industrialization/
urbanization once sacred wild woodland
whittled away overlain bumper crops
comprising trappings green lighted
supposedly signaling progress unwittingly
overrides avast enclave (teeming with
diverse flora and fauna passively cleared,
dominated, expropriated by dictate of
commercialization, exploitation, fabrication
fueling amalgamation, fabrication, lubrication
oiling cogs and wheels sustaining, murdering
guaranteeing production trumpeted at
expense native flora and fauna acquisition,
cooptation, extermination, gratification
decreed domination *****sapiens usurped
law of land i.e. eminent domain foisted
upon unsullied "new world" defining
European age of exploration, whereby
pristine undulating immense acres
indiscriminately partitioned, (despite
indigenous peoples unrecognized precedence
to remain holistic caretakers of Mother
Earth tendered, predicated, linkedin with
generations worth of sacredness, which
spiritual reverence meant naught to
unwelcome trespassers solely hell bent
to force acquiescence, compliance,
obeisance,... to warlords, whose cruel,
diabolical gall lee jeepers libidinal
incursions sought extinction toward
defenceless native inhabitants subject
to machinations spelling extermination,
yet their restless spirits infiltrate occupants
of once happy hunting grounds devoid
without a trace, when this bucolic tract
devoid of present schlocky vinyl zoned
abodes, whereby fast disappearing vestige
alluding to pastoral vista spurs overactive
imagination regarding yours truly, who
chiefly hankers he got born during
sparse population versus pell mell hustle.
Hmm...What Discursive Poetic Theme Shall I Write About...
Today (a rather brisk, chilly,
and otherwise sat
tiss factory twirly delightful
December 18th, 2018) matte
her of fact quite
refreshing noontime, while this fat
tend plot of Earthen surveyed terrain
situated over scat
herd modest suburban tract,
(actually yours truly some watt
urbanely sprawled out) at
Latitude: 40.2538 Longitude: 75.4590,
where I sit pat
and think to write
about some reading material flat
touring my "FAKE" status
as king of agitprop for chat
hurrying class gussied up with
artistically crafted rat
tilly done up snazzy razz mutt tazz
(approved by Willard), this expat
lapsed Peterson harried tailored script,
asper previous peculiar
swiftly styled idée fixe
literary unnecessary, rat
tickly tawdry superfluity)
interspersed with dollops of splat
hard logophile, nonetheless gentle
on the eyes, yet feeling totally flat
and devoid of meaning, and quite
convincingly desperate idea this pratt
tilling far amore in the dell doth
expatiate, expound expressively, gnat
cheerily witty, (i.e. hint- please
pretend these humph fat
tickle lee meandering, rambling,
and warbling words) taxing
on mental faculty as bat
tan gruelling death march
physically, when circa
April 1942 Japanese forced
76,000 captured Filipinos,
and Americans Allied
soldiers to march about 80 miles across
Bataan Peninsula (province
in Philippines), where they died
enroute to...during World War II
on island of Luzon, espied
as a spiritual sanctuary hosted
by a knowledgeable tour guide
named Matthew Scott hood dons
genuine (musty smelling)
Tory wig to hide
as an alien alias (from the outer limits
of the twilight zone) incognito
even to himself, and especially the bride
of Frankenstein, who evinces a strong crush
toward said nondescript gentrified
vested gentry groundless thinker with pride
though, dirt poor (at least on the surface),
but deep down rich with
Schwenksville well watered
history harkening back to 1684,
when hoodwinked, jilted and lied
Lenni-Lenape Indians got fleeced
then taken for a ride
this land ceded to (stolen from) William Penn
nestled along the Perkiomen Creek.
The Unfathomable Depth
The lunar orb has shed its mystery,
The Martian tract is now the goal of man,
No more distance is a word of glory
And no more is space beyond human ken.
Yet the chasm between man and man
Grows with every gust and every breath,
Down and down the solitary den
Man sinks and builds his lonely nest.
Man has fathomed the earthly planes,
Man has scanned the the atomic lanes,
Nature has he tied to his own needs,
He can boast of unlimited deeds.
Yet man is to himself a mystery,
His own heart is a boundless sea,
Where conflicting waves rest and roll
And reflects the the light of the soul.
His soul is an unfathomable depth,
Where neither winds nor tempests ever blow,
His soul is of such an immense breadth
That no learned bard can ever know.
December comes with certain treats,
Music and psalm and all things sweet.
The year-end grooves to festive cheer,
As commerce moves with spending here.
There is an air of appetites,
A buying flair that trade recites.
So much to pitch for Christmas mood,
The urgent reach for myriad goods.
Cash here works well in buying spree,
Wants and needs dwell on things you see.
Yes we consume more than enough...
Scent of perfume, so much of stuff.
Body-mind speed to acquire more,
That craving need for more to store.
Shoppers invade our city malls,
Goods ready made are dressed to call.
Season Greetings now fill the air,
Grand happenings now tempt and stare.
Warm city sights scream faith and hope,
Love comes to light our festive scope.
Money can buy so many things,
Not lows and highs beyond such flings.
The world knows fear in woes and pains,
Bring joy and cheer in acts laid plain.
Spare a good thought for sorrow's brief,
Resource kind plot to ease some grief.
Then your greetings will say a lot,
In fond wishing that's filled with thought.
For our loving speaks in giving,
Our fond greetings in right living.
Thus our kind tact fulfills love's pact,
For in each act, we heed sure tract.
Cheers then my friends and peace to all,
Goodwill floods grand when true love calls.
Peace on earth comes right here to stay,
Grandeur now sums our cheery days.
Leon Enriquez
01 December 2014
Singapore
In the youthful years enamored to the essence
for the unsupressible passion for playing football,
I spent the quality time in the playground
every awaited evening till the sundown.
Having set my aspiring goal to become
a professional football player of national repute,
I practiced hard year after year,
but my destiny rolled a different dice.
In one game carelessly I broke my leg,
an injury from which I could never recover
to return to the playground as an avid player,
that’s how my sporting dream broke forever.
On the tract of time I played instead
the relentless games of life as ordained.
Some I won, but many I lost
in the playground of shifting goalpost.
June 21, 2021
Contest : Playground
Sponsor : Shreya LN
No sooner than we set foot within said domicile
attestation to so called gentleman’s’ agreement with guile
initially infrequently, but incessantly as time elapsed Isle
never forget (nor will spouse forgive) with rancor and rile
ceaselessly besieging, bruiting bare-knuckle skirmishes
for us to remove ourselves and personal belonging with vile
lent vitriolic wrath from the day we decamped
within hoity -toity Mainline –
our matted unwelcome would endure for quite a white.
* I * S * I * N * G
With hindsight and accumulative less cloudy fifty shades of gray,
an irrevocable clear er voyance viz summoning forth would lay
an irreconcilable rift (rivaling the Mariana), and constant nay
saying presaged an emotional price to pay
whereat we deterred sale of vintage crystal balls – our stay
purported prevented sale of precious heirlooms – oye vay
in tandem to estate sale divvied up, cuz we whar in the way.
* I * S * I * N * G
Analogous to Little Red Riding Hood, we could not see
blitzkrieg, cannonading, incessant strafe carpet bombing re:
bloody onslaught from the generation of elder vipers que
endured feeling trapped by memorabilia meant nothing to me
* I * S * I * N * G
Warfare found us hunkering down within said tract housing unit,
a fusillade fired off re: porting volleys of character assassination
bombarded this unfortunate civilian clearly implicated to whit
for being a non jewish schlemiel inducing endless economic
denigrating calumniations – fulminating against this “twit”
we decried wicked, vicious, unwarranted abuse would not quit
with no defense against slings and arrows, a plague round
of ceaseless, ferocious, and insidious pilloried that pit
pendulous injustices for each of our **** (emphatic branding
per diem me own scrawny gluteus maximus to git
the hell out – eventually hiring a lawyer with eviction edict!
Form:
I, am a single drop of blood
that swoons to your eye.
Eye, can revisit why.
I am the Memory of every Departure.
I am born of Emotion and Dreams in brood.
Treasure's Dragon and rider thereof.
Adventure, myst-understood.
I am the Long Eternal wake awake
and I will always be here.
Recapturing your heart with claws to tract ture.
From beyond the Black, I wait.
I am your true love.
The Picture Perfect glove,
finger, gem-and aperture.
I am your past and your future,
path and destination.
I am the way back.
I am Eden.
The Canvas of Hide in Pregnancy spotting
exploits to encircle, vocation.
The Beginnings, in my Prefecture.
An Eye of the again against replication,
O Love's cloning fracture.