Long Trisha Poems

Long Trisha Poems. Below are the most popular long Trisha by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trisha poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Totems

The Totem      ©

The totem speaks of the tribe’s history, lore, 
deeds of courage
Animals, fish and gods
 carved in reverence,
from a fallen tree hundreds of years old,
living wood, with a face, a fish,
a bear, a bird marching down it’s trunk,
a seemingly random sprinkle of 
obelisks in a circle,
tells of incredible faith true enough
 to move tons of stone

Totems today, statuary in the front garden,
wooden rooster atop the mail box,
the weather vane dressed in 
golden green patina.
Carvings of flowers,
frolicking baby squirrels and 
rabbits  on a sign at the front door,
A mural brushed upon a barn wall,
the flag of a beloved country,
 the lone star of a beloved state,
the wind chimes of dolphins, stars, frogs, and spoons
capturing the breeze, 
singing a song of welcome

Tribes  today paint their vehicles in much the same way
that the People painted their sturdy, brave little horses 
before a battle
Circles of paint about the eyes for truer vision,
hand prints on shoulder and flank to ward off the spear,
ornaments braided  into mane and tail 
to celebrate victory

Bumper stickers, magnetic ribbons,
 all totems to tell members
of other tribes what is believed in, 
what the tribe stands for;
support this, hate that, 
down with this, up with that
proud to be a redneck, 
 a woman,
 a boater, 
a parent,
a fisherman,
 a politician,
 a farmer,
 a dancer, 
a soldier,
an Aggie, 
a sailor, 
an Irishman, 
a lover of guns.

Trisha Sugarek
Butterflies and Bullets


Premium Member Passage To Beyond

Passage to Beyond

Our loved ones leave this world
 softly fading
 a secret smile playing 
upon their lips
What do they see beyond the mist?
Is someone there? Waiting?

Others volunteer to disappear from this place
thinking it is the only solution 
to their heart shattering
from events old and new
Seeking relief at any cost
no thought beyond this selfish act.

Others, beloved forever,
leave this plane in a rush of fire,
fear, fury and bravado
so careless of the ones left behind
to mourn, to miss, to try to 
fit the pieces together again.

…..and if we watch...listen...very carefully
we will see....hear...our dead creeping back
to collect their footsteps.

Trisha Sugarek
Moths and Machettes

Premium Member Twenty Five

Twenty-five 

25 seconds: the time it 
takes to fall in love…. 

25 minutes: into rehearsal 
we have our first kiss…. 

25 hours: I am dreaming of
you…. 

25 days: I know it is just the 
beginning…. 

25 weeks: we are having 
“make up” sex…. 

25 months: stranded in 
Tucson, I’m sling’in hash 
and you.re ropin’ steers…. 

25 years: Best friends, still in 
love, comfortable in our 
own skins, at ease and 
amused by each other’s 
quirks.…
 
….shoring up each other’s 
desires, choices, and 
judgments, good or bad…. 

sustaining each other no
matter what… 

loving each other no 
matter why! 

Trisha Sugarek
Butterflies and Bullets

Premium Member driven

Life at 21, do you remember it?
Things rush at you, hit you, from all directions.
Any small decision can turn into a major plot beat.

What are our lives anyway but the sum of our decisions?
Opportunities contract and expand around us, like breathing—
and what fills those lungs are our test scores and faculty opinion.

College is a land of dreams—we’re all dream catchers—on our own paths, but the paths are mazes shrouded in haze, tumblers in need of combinations, variants that we must learn and memorize though it drains our communal blood.

At test times, the silence in libraries and coffeehouses is deafening,
full, as they are, of hunched-back phantoms toiling on books or blue-lit screens. If it sounds stressful and dramatic—it is. It’s not a time to get raddled—it’s all a big test.

Your world contracts to the sterile and dry— the facts and the moments needed to gather and order them.

That’s why we love breaks. Fall, Summer, Christmas, Thanksgiving—any flavor—break.

In fact, Lisa and I are on break now, I’m typing, on a MacBook Air, in a helicopter, screaming towards Manhattan.

If we don’t die in this shaky, 250mph, 3000-feet out-over Long Island Sound, cricket-like contraption, we’re going to have a great time—if we do nothing but sleep, hug our families and eat turkey—a great time.
.
.
Songs for this:
Little Hercules by Trisha Yearwood
Constant Craving by k.d. lang

Premium Member The Farm

The Farm  ©
by Trisha Sugarek

Fields of mustard seed
as far and beyond the eye
the farm dogs return
dusted in yellow

The clapboard grey of the old 
farm house stands in testimony of
generations of pea farmers,
 hunters, fishermen, and cooks

Heady fragrance of a farm dinner 
immerses the senses as the screen
door slaps open

The matriarchal voice sings out
‘tea party!’  A call to supper

And the city folk sit around a battered
and scared wooden table laden with
baked chicken, fried steak, mashed potatoes,
green beans and corn that hung from the
vine just minutes ago

Her biscuits and corn bread are the stuff that
dreams are made of

Later they all sit on the warped porch steps
and listen as the geese honk their way in to
the fields and their nightly time of respite

Bats fly across the moon, frogs call out their
secrets, a loon wails its loneliness


Premium Member Foggy Night

FOGGY NIGHT  ©

The white orb, saturated with 
tidal flows, peers through the 
veil. 

A ghost ship slips up the fog 
laden channel. 

Night gulls. sing with strident cries 

fog seeps in, the tide rolls out, 
day is gone, the night creeps on.

Trees, dressed in ebony, drift by. 
Water glistens, gold and wet.

Edges blurred night is soft and 
tender, damp seeps into cloth, 
hair, bone.
 
Tents of light spread over the 
foggy landing.

Hunters of the sea know not day 
nor night, fishers all, 
white feathers stark against the 
darkest shadows.

Palm trees, silhouetted in 
ochre gauze, black brushes hard 
with paint. 

Pilings sway, their waists cinched 
with rope. 

Matronly sentinels, the craft finds 
the woody bosom. 

Trisha Sugarek
Butterflies and Bullets

Premium Member The Farm

The Farm  ©

Fields of mustard
sway in a light breeze
off the river
farm dogs return 
dusted in yellow

the clapboard gray of
the farmhouse
weeps old memories
generations of pea farmers,
hunters, fishermen and cooks

heady fragrance of cooking food
saturate the senses as
the screen door slaps shut

the matriarch sings out
‘tea party!
and the city folk sit ‘round a table
laden with baked chicken that was
pecking out a meal in the yard that day
fried venison steak and mashed potato
green beans and corn hanging from the vine
just minutes ago
her biscuits and cornbread; the stuff 
dreams are made of

Later they sit on the warped porch steps
listening as the geese honk their way in 
to the seed rich fields and
 their nightly respite

bats fly across the moon, 
frogs call out their secrets,
a loon wails its loneliness
old stories are told

Trisha Sugarek
Moths and Machetes

Premium Member Barefoot Dream

Barefoot Dream  ©

A pair of slippers dance along 
the surf line, dank chill seeps into 
supple leather 

Laughter and joy stream out 
across the endless waves, a 
day’s freedom from society’s 
strictures 

Stripped of sock and slip’r 
toes clinch and let loose the 
sandy floor as it shifts and moves 
as in a dance, vanishing under 
her foot
 
Dancing on the heads of 
ancient warriors, lost sailors, 
drown’d lovers

Foamy wet tickles the ankles, 
grains rasp and scrape a 
hardened heel 

Cleansed in the salty froth, tiny 
secreted bones ache with 
numbing cold 

Sodden cotton slaps the calves
A drenched, forever sound as 
the grasp of death’s hand brings 
her down… 

down, down into the blue-black 
arms of the cold sea

Trisha Sugarek
Butterflies and Bullets

Premium Member The Medicine Bag

The Medicine Bag 

March the centuries on, 
the talisman wraps and 
clings to the collar bone. 

The medicine bag cups holy 
bones that speak of the 
future, flint and stone to
 make magic fire 

strong medicine in the 
feather of the eagle
a tooth of the wolf when the 
spirit guide is he,
 
Should the moon's cycle be
the guide. an agate stone. 

Antler bone, its spirit 
sacrificed, meat and juices 
hiss into the fire on a wintry 
night. 

Amulets forever worn „round 
the neck touched by hands 
to reassure. 

Fear, pain and loss subside. 
Joy celebrated stroked in 
thanksgiving, always there, 
a comfort. 

To lose it was to lose one.s 
self. 
 
The medicine bag still adorns 
the educated, the modern, 
the agnostic. 

Turquoise of a native people
rosary beads for a strict and 
vengeful God
a locket filled with a 
beloved.s hair 

hippy beads from the time of 
peace signs and Haight-Ashbury 

a gold chain dangling stones 
ripped from the earth 

David.s star shining over
centuries of darkness.
 
The shark.s tooth from the icy, 
indifferent depths 

silver charms jingle and talk of 
life.s landmarks 

the gold cross celebrating a 
vicious torture 

worry beads from a 
mysterious and dark cult 

a modest grain of sand 
coated with oyster spit 

the ashes of one that ca'.t 
be let go, lest it diminish the 
life that remains. 

Medicine bags…all. 

Trisha Sugarek from
Butterflies and Bullets

Premium Member The Long Trail

The Long Trail © by Trisha Sugarek

The Circle Heart brand on the wet rump rippled
as the horse shivered with exhaustion
the sun lost its battle with night and 
dropped behind the far peak

Chaparejos, worn thin and soft fit his legs 
like they had grown there
Dusty spurs jangled as he trotted into the sleepy town
A saddle that had seen a thousand miles creaked
and complained as he stepped down
the crown of his hat was stained with sweat
from the hard ride

Reins dangled in the dirt
The horse hung his head, relieved to not
be moving anymore

A drink or two to wash the Santa Fe Trail dust 
from the cowboy’s throat he stepped up onto the boardwalk,
turned and gazed at the town 
and the mountains beyond
the color of old blood as the sun lost its glory

He pulled a cigarillo out, and with one smooth
movement wiped a match on his pants, the tiny
flame igniting
He puffed and blew smoke into the night air
watched the town close up for the night
Across the street a cur scurried around a corner
a merchant keyed his shop closed and 
lit the gas lantern beside his door

The work had been good at the Circle Heart ranch, the grub even better
But the trail was his siren, always calling him, luring him over the next hill, down the next wash, 
up the next canyon

sleeping next to a small camp fire, 
staring at a billion stars
wondering if someone, something out there
was staring back

He wanted to settle but he hadn’t found
the right place
the right woman
the right time

Flicking the smoke into the street, he turned
and entered the saloon, 
honky-tonk piano music played
The doors behind him whispered back and forth

The patrons saw another dusty, tired cowpoke, looking
for a few hours of pleasure
some music, some whiskey, and if he could afford it
the soft arms of a woman

The cowboy saw weak town folk, 
forever saddled to their days
the bit in their mouths dictating their lives
wary of any stranger, their gaze sidling away

Set ‘em up and keep ‘em comin’, the cowboy barked
Show me your coin, the barkeep growled

His days were numbered 
the boys from the Circle Heart ranch would find
him and the horse
They would take their horse and probably string 
him up to the nearest tree

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace