Long Twanging Poems
Long Twanging Poems. Below are the most popular long Twanging by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Twanging poems by poem length and keyword.
Howdy friend, I'm new in town.
I think I'll jot a few things down,
which, I hope, might take a frown
and turn it upside down.
OK, now let's play a game,
to see how much we are the same.
These are things that make me smile:
a new bride walks down the aisle
the radio plays my favorite song
a child has a place to belong
fish in a clear mountain stream
being part of a team
I'm weird, I like insects and bugs
but I also like kisses and hugs
a funny, animated cartoon
a cute face on a red balloon
a caring nod, a holding hand
the twanging of a rubber band
a sunny day on the beach
biting a juicy, dripping peach
riding the crest of a wave
climbing into a secret cave
I like to scratch my dog's fur
and the voice of Karen Carpenter
In the morning it is fun
to see a flower meet the sun
a kid on a hot day with a hose
a fly when it lands on his nose
I like to watch a top when it spins
and when the underdog wins
the smell of fresh baked bread
a good story to read in bed
to see the shining happy glow
of a child's face in a talent show
I like munching raisin scones
and wild animals that no one owns
please note, I am also smitten
by a week-old big eared kitten
She said, “I don’t like poetry.”
“Forsooth!” said I, “Really?”
Yet you listen, hour upon breathless hour
To rhythmic verses of country whine,
Endless twanging, chaotic musical notes banging.
In the background, white noise and lustful melodies clanging.
“I don’t like poetry.” He said.
“Forsooth!” said I, “Really?”
Yet you gyrate to the raging beat of violent rapping.
Husky lyrics flow melodiously off your cursing tongue
And spray the peaceful, quiet night with viral, hateful musings.
“We don’t like poetry.” they said.
“Forsooth!” said I. “Like, really?”
Madonna, Taylor, Pink, Katy …
you can’ t wait to download their latest offerings.
Poetry rules your life.
You lust for it.
You need it to survive.
It sets the rhythm of the universe,
And your childish beating heart.
Just because it’s set to music? “Forsooth.” said I.
Copyright Chula Schlesinger Fleming © 9.3.2024
A glorious sunset in an opening
Never before seen. Miles from nowhere.
Dimming iridescent sunset.
The forest shines light to the East
Eyes can't adjust to the shadows of the West.
The light of the day led to this throne
Breaking trails though walls of green
Opening like a curtain revealing anew
Wanted to leave early but decided against
Opting for just one more moment of awe
Faced with uncertainty direction is known
Only because backwards was in hours ago
First steps are easy as the forest denses
Ruckus of movement echoes away and back
Lumbering clumsily full of strength
Sticks breaking, leaves brushing
Thorns sticking, bits of bark blinding
Blackness of night dimming. Steps weakening
Shins stopped by logs. Bruises throbbing
Straight lines becoming circles
Faint remnants of twilight rotate on horizon
Ducking under widow-makers blindly
The tree fogs hums rising
Deer huff sightless upon approach
The lonely wolf between here and home
Draws out a far-to-close harmonious note
What was that? A sound I didn't make
Stopped abruptly, heal to toe tipping
Heavy breaths echo from mouth to ear
Holding breath with throat rasping starting to crackle
Ears perked pinging the darkness.
Faint white noise increasing in volume
Sharp cracks penetrate the silence
It's coming right at me.
Fear races, body tenses
Bear on a charge with it's prey in sight
Heavy limbs breaking, small branches twanging
Thrashing closer as hairs raise on end
Skin of scalp tightens sloughing from the skull
Legs begin running before being told
The brain is still interpreting failing senses
Gnarly fangs of timber tearing at cloth and flesh
Anguish escapes with a primal face crunching growl
As crag hooks foot in a hand-less fall
Ears ringing as pain numbs in anticipation
Louder and louder the pursuer above crashes
Veering right past me
Another wayward traveler surging aimlessly
Thrashing the darkness as if being chased.
Trying to find his way home in the Dark.
In the Dark
9/11/17
I’m Sister Summer sizzling, in bouncy birth
sugarbirds outward bound in twanging sound
sunflowers stand tall on radiant dewdrop mirth
dragonflies settling on parsley, barley and mint
tanned faces blush in rosy scintillating glint
Shimmery beach daughters flout floral in daze
golden my rays stroke serene sea and surf’s turf
skipping on white sand, life without faze, I blaze
drink atemoya ambrosia, nectared is freckled fruit
following Sister Spring my chesty heatwaves root
After Sister Winter took you downward dark cold
my days hug halcyon walks and disco dances
I, Summer, savour bubbling bare beauty bold
expanding, entrusting streams of enigmatic time
leaps of courageous action I boisterous chime
My confident prayers sail across cypress trees
hearts beat valiant beneath wide sapphire skies
chrysanthemums sway in slight southern breeze
mercurial my heat quivers, rising hopes high
mystic saffron nights, I usher in Sister Fall’s sighs
Happiness heliotroped is favoured gorgeous garb
activations recline towards revelations divine
luminal light on Love’s mysterious arrowed barb
dynamic I expose sources of ecstatic abilities
open lucrative doors with powered possibilities !
~~~~~~>~~~~~~~~~>~~~~~~>>>>>>•••~~~
I recall June dreams beyond seasons' past
which bring me down lanes where old guitars waft ;
his fingers twanging notes, our laughter screams
beyond seasons' past... I recall June dreams.
This man I adore as God’s prized token,
grunts at fairy books with scowls unspoken
yet hands would strum about mythical lore ...
as God’s prized token, this man I adore.
Lurks the night raven with venom impressed--
casting a fierce shock upon his dear chest
to drown rhapsodies from our lane's haven:
with venom impressed, lurks the night raven.
Ablaze in this heart, fiddler’s tunes I keep
where moments enchanted prance in my sleep--
Grandpa, not in time will we be apart,
fiddler's tunes I keep... ablaze in this heart.
Swap The Verse Contest of Joseph May
` included SQ in the title after posting`
6/13/2020
We are winded and on the ropes. Backwater banjo boys
strum against us. Clouds feed upon a shoaling light.
A bad day for going out or staying in.
A time to be sleepless. We must live timidly,
or push deeper into a glaring daylight
toward the drugged dreams of the wide-eyed,
go shopping in the poorer parts of town
seek thrifty ways to survive among the striving,
give all our prayers to the birds; then eat them.
Some say they have heard the sky flap away
but many stuff fingers in their ringing ears
and gainsay both the seen and unseen.
There is no sanctuary in night's lean pantry,
the ransacked are laid bare.
Many pick the pockets of the anxious
rattle catch-penny cans on shoe-strings.
Misgivings trespass, tumble ever inward until
reason becomes the reason to flee.
Paltry inklings gnaw at ever longer nights,
and we wonder what ‘tipping point’ tipped
what lid flipped; what line was crossed
as an ever louder twanging strums on?
I turned on the radio and heard this country song,
The melody was steady, the feeling sure was strong.
A steel guitar was twanging, like memories in the night,
It painted fields of summer, gold beneath the fading light.
A voice sang about a heartbreak down on some old dusty road,
Of letters never written and love that once had glowed.
He crooned about a front porch, a dog asleep at feet,
A gentle southern sunset and a world that felt complete.
The chorus told of freedom, a truck and open sky,
Of chasing distant daydreams and never asking why.
There was laughter in the verses, and tears within the tune,
Old friends and faded blue jeans, memories gone too soon.
Each word felt like a story I somehow knew by heart,
About losing what you cherish and finding a new start.
I turned up the dial louder, let the music take me home,
In every line and melody, I found I'm not alone.
So here’s to country radio, where memories belong,
And hearts find some comfort in a simple country song.
I was in a slumber repose,
so tired- I wanted to rest:
then, a guitar vibrating grows,
I love the twanging of my guest;
bringing feeling that I repressed !
The tune is a dreamy cajole,
an enticement and seduction:
the music speaks love to my soul,
I sigh for my love's destruction;
recall our introduction !
I am in a place misty veiled,
hazy, dark, murky and shrouded:
I see headstones with etching paled,
and names engraved- the stones crowded;
oh, why is the sky so clouded !
I smell the fragrant lilacs bloom,
one day ... I planted these flowers:
he loved so their cluster perfume,
I could stand here many hours;
oh, weary- and now the showers !