Long Trampling Poems
Long Trampling Poems. Below are the most popular long Trampling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trampling poems by poem length and keyword.
I can see the smiles all over your face and something is telling me that you have found a new date, what could be so revealing when a new year’s resolution throws you all over the place, you walk by in a hurry with a pleasing personality and there is something so different about you it is as if your long-awaited dreams have come through.
Your spirit is bold, your steps are firm, and you are ready to take on the world. I can’t tell if it’s real because I am viewing it from the side of my computer screen.
Some things look larger than life and what you see on the screen can be very deceiving. I can put on an eye glass on your face, and I can change the color of your race, I can make you look younger and make you look stronger with the technology in my fingers.
I can see your smile evoking pity with the divine and there is something different about you that cause everyone to click when you start a conversation, you have that mesmerizing voice, baked in the spirit of manipulation and if you asked for a wish, I would tell you that you already have it in your dish.
There is something that is different about you that cause me to think, It is the way you maneuver your body when you stand at the kitchen sink, the brief flash back moment you had holding the umbrella and standing next to the natural juice vendor at the street corner.
I kept seeing that image everyday with you holding the mug on the StreetSide and the rats running around in the bushes and the dogs barking in the streets. You can lip sing in South Africa and your voice can be heard all the way in America, you can shout from the back bushes with the same voice and the sound can come out from someone else’s mouth, let the ventriloquist tell you what it is all about, some voices are deceiving not everyone can sing the amazing grace hymn.
More than a century ago when civilization was just getting out, men of valor walked upon the face of the earth searching for an answer; they got it quite alright, but they had to put up a long vicious fight and then they walk around the bewildering town scattering garbage all around trampling the dignity of the city to the ground and the earth began to shake.
I can see the smile on your face, it’s as if you are holding up the entire human race; your heart is big, your spirit is bold but deep down the wounds are festering in your soul.
In a little Irish village
Just south of Dublin town
Lies a little Catholic church
With little houses scattered 'round
It was a bright cool Sunday morning
When the bells started ringing
And the people started coming
As the choir started singing
McGee put on his coat
His hat, his tie and vest
For every Sunday morning
He was sure to look his best
Although wifey was away
He could still hear her saying
"No Pub today, My sunshine,
It's in church, You will be praying"
So reluctantly McGee strolled in
And found himself a pew
There He sat in utter silents
Not sure of what to do
Then, no sooner the Mass began
There came a chilling roar
Gods immortal enemy
Was standing at the door
Some people screamed
Some people cried
But they all ran from the church
Trampling one another
While McGee sat un-besmirched
The Devil asked McGee
"Don't you want to scream for aid"
McGee replied " Not really, It's not like, that I'm afraid"
Then Satan asked McGee
"Are you familiar with my name"
McGee replied " Yes indeed
And know all about your game"
"So why aren't you running now
With your heart all filled with fear"
" It's because, Dark one, I've been married
To your sister, thirty years
I can always walk out the door of the house and leave behind the daily stress of life
The further away my feet take me down the path the deeper the breaths I take in
And the smell of the field and the fresh air transports me to another time and place many years ago
When life was so much simpler and someone else dealt with the details of the world
The path has no worries even though it is worn down under the trampling of many feet
Mostly mine
It leads me further away until I no more feel the worry
And no more feel the need to run
It lets me follow for as far as I desire to go
And sometimes that 180 turn is hard to make back to reality
For the path could go on forever and I would barely regret the choice to follow it
But I leave it all behind out in the woods where only one can hear the complaints
I so easily voice to Him alone
And so I walk the path
Clearing away all the muck of the world and of life
And renewing my spirit and desire to go on…living.
I see granite headstones,
wooden crosses, and wreathes,
Reminders of what once lived atop,
now interred way beneath,
As I walk through the cemetery
trampling upon fallen leaves,
Towards my parents grave,
to pay respects, not in grief.
A feeling of ambivalence,
as I approach their small plot,
Happy to be here, yet guilty
of the times I’d forgot,
Kneeling over their grave,
I lay down some flowers,
Tidy around say a prayer,
but my mind is overpowered,
Moment of clarity hits me,
never will I see them again,
It’s over our life together,
but I just can’t comprehend,
Finality, the finality dawns,
they’re gone, erased from time,
What’s happening, can’t think
straight, my brain declines.
Gaining composure slowly,
but bewildered in disbelief,
That shock of reality so strong,
I’m still weak on my feet,
Was this a message, from
beyond my parents grave,
Or a longing to love, see,
and hold them, one which I craved.
I turn to walk away, taking
a panoramic look around,
Other people are standing,
beside loved ones ground,
Same look in their eye,
that shook me to the bone,
Where intelligence meets reality,
so much is left unknown.
Some who read this might think,
O ye of little faith,
Whilst others maybe scathing,
life simply turns to waste,
But I’m in no mans land,
holding on to vacant light,
What I once took for granted,
I’m reduced now to write.
By
David Kavanagh
Destiny has forever been an advisory
It provokes me
It scorns me
Vexing my soul
Denying me pleasure and supplying me pain
Nevertheless, we continue together
Spiraling through time
Trampling over the gardens of paradise,
Eluding the lagoons of love,
Escaping the world of contentment
Attempts of freedom prove impossible
While longing for liberation of this limited legacy
Scraping the sands of time for salvation
As disbelief and failure settle at the bottom of my river of tears,
And while reality immortalizes itself,
I reminisce an aspiration where,
She and I were of one
She was me and I her
I could hear the soft sway of the ocean’s waves
In her eyes, I saw skies of satisfaction
And as we frolic through the fields of forever
I am abruptly awaken by destiny’s envy
An envy that has plagued my existence
Again, the handcuffs of imprisonment are tightened
As I yearn to be granted my forbidden fate
INSPIRED BY “SCENTED LEAVES” CONTEST SPONSPORED BY KIM RODRIGUES
Aromatic avenues with the scent of your perfume
Lingering on each leaf you grace with your presence
Those delicate feet treading the petalled pathways of his heart
Enticing a new spring in the Autumn of his life
Autumn
A cold bleak reminder of the rains that are still yet to fall
And yet, he sees the smile that your soul wears just for him
And the seeds are sown in the depths of his heart
A heart that he thought no longer beat
A heart that he no longer wanted to beat
Because a beating heart can bleed
Faster
Harder
Making him weak
He is a man
He cannot afford to be weak
He must be strong
He must prepare for torrential downpours
He must retain his shelter
His armour
He must not wear a smile for you
“He will not!” he tells himself.
Yet somehow those scented leaves make him forget himself
And it’s Spring again
And he dons a secret smile
You intoxicate his senses and he wants to indulge in you more
He needs you. Craves you.
He loves it
He hates it
He no longer knows what to feel
Trapped
His tortured pragmatic mind
Wrestling with a drunken heart
Wanting to be loved
Afraid of what will become of him
If love walks away
So, he aspires to become love
That way he gets to be the one to walk away
He will love you a little
And discard of you a lot
He will maintain control
Control of himself
Control of his fears
At least
That is what he thinks
YOU
With the look of adventure in your crystal blue eyes
And your aromatic fragrance of freedom
Wafting, as you inhabit all who inhale your inner beauty
It’s a scent that lingers
You are that scent
The smell of what could have been
He will forever wear it
Carry it in his heart
Or his mind –
Whichever wins at the end of each dreary day
Now Autumn is not just a reminder of death
Of life
It is a reminder of death
Of love
Still those aromatic avenues are filled with the scent of your perfume
Lingering on each leaf you once graced with your presence
Those indelicate feet trampling the putrid pathways of his hardened heart
Enticing a new harsher winter in the awful Autumn of his lonely life
Midnight Aurora
November 12th 2019
midnight's
descend clothed me
in darkness,
stilling
the process of
you giving up on us
but
it was useless
when
dawn's ascend
stripped me naked with
a
vengeance
that ache-quaked
my being
it's
no longer there
your...
sugary, salty taste
that clung to my tongue
long after our orgasms sprung
imprints
of your fingertips
were fading fast from my skin
survival
instinct kicked in
summoning daydreams to
pull down my eyelids and project
memorable moments with you
but
souldeep your absence
persistently
abuse my senses
the words,
{{YOU'RE. GONE. FOR. GOOD.}}
beat against
my eardrums resounding thoughts of
your scent, I'll never take in again
or
feel the heat of your kiss
on my lips
each
footstep
taken, led you away
trampling my heart into
an
unrecognizable rhythm
from the way
it used to beat
for only
you
I
feel
the slowing
of your love flow
through my veins and hear the
weakening beeps
I
know
our flat line
is just a matter
of time...
love's death is near
and
I
don't know
rather to let us
rest in peace
or
do my best
and try to resurrect
us.
There was this lion:
A carnivore that's known to come from zion.
He was large and pompous,
Trampling upon thorns and hibiscus.
His tail smaller that his ear,
And for that he never cares.
His eyes are merged with the furnace,
Red and ferocious breaking through surface.
The hunch resting on his back,
Enrich his beauty that he never lacked.
Like a thundrbolt seasoned with the seas wave,
Does he roar and all insect to death did cleave.
He was renowned for what he possessed,
But onething had him possessed:
His jaws are like the red sea,
Parting for all Israelites to see.
To behold the virtue therein
If at all he could take in.
His teeth are white like snow,
Strong and tinted,giving air blow.
Mammals admire the set,
And couldn't draw near for they fret.
As strong and skillful as his teeth,
He couldn't use it.
Maybe for fear of the giants,
Or dread for invisible brat.
And thus he was hungry,
Till death took him on journey.
"Many have virtue with which they can survive,but cannot use it".
17:30:12:08:46
Sweet, Sweet Descendings
The meandering river slinks silently
In reluctant afterthought;
A flat stone shines in the sun’s presence,
Gripped for flight, flies forward;
Water clouds dance in the rapids,
Celebrated with flames, and
The crying colors of terminations,
With the motion and swiftness of forethought,
Redacted and clothed in a mist;
As spiral complacencies nudge me from behind,
They seek to know my name.
They seek to harness the ghost prayers of a thousand decades,
As deities, in splendorous romancing,
With lips pursed for the joining of sparks,
Deliver the nudge and mouth the name,
All in sweet whispering buds,
As spreading flower petals lacerate the lacrimonious;
Falling, descending, down, down-
I see the green annihilations in the stars,
As the heavens, wet with anticipation,
In minds all enclosed in folds,
The whimpering few cry at twilight,
Trampling flowers and crusty coals.
Sweet sweet descendings,
Past the laughing ghosts of 1952,
They slice as a cleaver finds the core,
Divided, oh meandering slough,
The dance alights on an afterthought,
Redacted from behind, harnessed for years,
Sweet buds in green summer heat,
Petals and ghosts slice through,
The harrowing stars.
Some men chant atop mountaintops
while others prowl the garden and hiss
some spin prayer flags to cool the soul
some smile like pansies but are venomous.
Some men live for the sake of others
some only live to pleasure the self
some men suffer for heaven's sake
some wither in the deepest pit of hell.
Plain-spoken men often harbor honesty
flamboyance at times covers ill intent
men in castles tend to be quite restless
others can find peace in a shanty or tent.
One hides his faults and shortcomings
while mocking and trampling the others
the humble gain strength in forgiveness
and will lend a heart to a fallen brother.