Long Unmistakable Poems
Long Unmistakable Poems. Below are the most popular long Unmistakable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unmistakable poems by poem length and keyword.
The sailing ships above my head,
unimageable shapes navigating through,
as I walk the lonely stretch of the beach.
Memories stir chapters of the past.
I always wondered what my life would have been
if I took a different course, then the one I took.
That day the colors fanned out and whiffed
of redolence unmistakable that Spring had arrived.
The sound of the train had wakened me up that day
from thought as I waited for him at the station.
A considerable distance, listing to recurrent rumbling roar
of the train's vibration snaking on the rail score,
metal wheels rhythmic clatters over the rail ties the closer it neared.
He stood still for a minute before he stepped off the train.
He was tall, alluring sculpted body, in a dark brown suit
and Stetson hat, short lace up Oxford shoes; a gentleman.
He was a man I had met while in the service.
We spent a couple of weeks enjoying each other’s company,
but the joy of it wasn’t enough.
He decided to reenlist again, applied for Officer Candidate School.
I didn’t see him again.
His image still imprinted in my mind.
3/8/2023
Sending the tending to an unfriended ending,
yet somehow suspending from rending a newly offending recommending.
Logotype monotype linotype,
overripe stereotype,
teletyped an unripe heliotype.
Guttersnipe snipe,
stipe snipe ripe,
a wipe type a tripe,
unleash a withering hype.
Dip snip,
nip lip,
slip skip,
rip the apple pip
over a battleship Chip.
Clip,
airstrip,
blip,
scrip,
gyp,
flip,
dip.
Unsip, blue clip,
A warship, weathering stick.
To miche an itch,
to stitch a witch.
Rich a quitch,
Hitch a flitch.
Gabrilowitsch,
the grand son of a *****!
Pitched a ditch to flitch a niche.
Made a rich hitch lich.
The Thia tie thy tried to untie an unshy,
Spied a sny sty,
He ascribed a bribe tribe,
to dib drib, lib and sib.
A death pale,
dwaled and engrailed,
enjailed and bewailed.
The cocktale turned into a,
ginger ale stale.
A hobnail.
A pale kale.
The whale waled
a veil of wail.
The stale air,
railed the quailing sale.
Dipped the snip,
to pip the tip,
and baled the avail,
to the flailed snail.
Attract extract reenact,
saddle backed and subtracted,
the tact the pact
an unmistakable fact.
Swag the unsage,
the wage of the tutelage.
A coffee break
a bit of a cornflake
cupcaked the cake of the devil's flake.
Draked the fake fruitcake,
and hake the jake on the mellow lake.
Mistake the overtake.
A pancake sheik,
cried spake of a toothache.
Ack Ack!
Back, Bootblack Jack.
Pack the Pontiac rack,
sack the Hackensack,
hijack the leatherback.
Offtrack the outback,
rack the sack,
smack the stack,
stickleback the tictack track,
to the umiak Union Jack.
Twack the whack yak sack,
A mystical one eyed zodiac.
Bready a speedy,
deedy the weedy,
Reedy to leedy.
Unheedy indeedy.
Leda, Vida, Theda.
Sketched an etch,
itched a hatch.
So speechless,
breathless,
toothless.
The socialist,
the communist,
the theorist
the terrorist.
Bedded the bedding
in a dreadful beheading.
Weeded the weed,
leading the lead,
tended the teed.
The ready read,
the reedy reeded.
The seedy seeded.
The end is Ending.
More troubled times
My Dear Sweet Melanie, it is a terrible shame,
– for unknown reasons, you choose to remain -
that with this it, who plays a sick mind game
with your beautiful head, with your loving brain,
filling your heart with dread, your eyes with rain.
Without exception, every time, he treats you the same,
– to larger, and larger, and larger doses of pain -.
In your relationship, – I see – he is the only one to gain
from being involved with a beauty like you !
I am at a loss, cannot find the right thing to do.
I would like to see you stand up, move on,
walkaway – look forward – let him be gone.
I seldom have come to know, the reasons why ?,
what it is, or was about, that has made you cry,
for, in your silences, you have kept it from my eye,
– that which breaks your heart – hurts you so.
You may never let me in, you may never show,
And so, Dear, the truth, I may never come to know.
All this, my Dear Child, comes as no surprise,
for he is forever, constantly telling you so many lies.
It is not hard to see- unmistakable – shows in his eyes !
You have made some very unusual choices
and seldom will listen to concerned voices
who’s experiences, wisdom, wants to share
Ones who know, who see, who very much, care !,
who want to spare, - you – try and clear the air
so that you may know a fife that is more fare.
B. J. “A” 2
February 17th 2003
On the cliff at the Worm’s Head
High above the horns of the bay
I see the surfers ride great waves
With horses’ manes
That ever fail, but never end
In the strong Atlantic surge
In the estuary at Dartmouth
Where the oyster boats dredge
Turning and drifting in slow shadow dance
Great nets of shells are hauled up
And poured out on to the decks
As I plunge upriver
Tacking along the wending Dart
With bent-puzzle oaks on either side
I hear a sudden hush descend
Upon a lonely river hythe
As time and air, smooth and still
Forever glide, like Mayflies
On cold, clear water
In the seaway by the port
With its unmistakable algal aroma
Of the British seashore
I hear the heavy horn of a freighter
That plies its path
And never sinks, yet ever diminishes
Beyond the waves
And far from the pier of the seaside town
Where sandpipers probe
In spiral casts
I hear the penthal call of the curlew
Like silver flourishes on a black cloud
That never moves, but holds dominion
In the cold morning air.
The energy path is direct
Unmistakable
There being no room for error
Fickle thought rested
It all begins with a yearning
To be one with God
Anahata then all aflame
Seeks satisfaction
Magnetic pull thus created
Awakens Shakti
Energy rises rapidly
Through any channel
Path being of least resistance
Central optimal
Attachment to form a blockage
May delay ascent
Prayerful surrender the practice
Rise a certainty
Shakti uniting with Shiva
Merging at the crown
Polarities next do balance
Becoming equal
Shiva and Shakti then descend
To the heart centre
Lovers unite bliss the climax
Rapture without end
Sushumna throbs in pure delight
Igniting our form
Kundalini movement ceases
We be to become
Subject object merge all is one
Bliss alone remains
21-September-2020
It was mid afternoon on a crisp early December day that I saw her. Like watching a movie she seemed to be unaware of my presence. Her gait was slow and meandering as she approached the beginning of a sidewalk buried by colorful leaves of fall. Then suddenly, as if surprised, she turned her head, and like flipping a switch I watched as a spring of joyful life filled each step of the next 60 seconds. Although I never saw her face I knew she was smiling and laughing, and free. It was an unmistakable display of pure happiness. Nearing the end of natures playground she slowed her gait again then paused leaning into a tree and tapping her toe behind her. She seemed to be grateful for the last moments of the fading sun shining softly on her skin. From joyful to content, at least I had hoped, I could only assume the presence of her joy was still with her. A final act of surprise came when she knelt down to gather a big scoop of leaves from around her feet and hold them at arms length in front of her. After a moment of stillness, she slowly began to let the leaves fall from between her fingers until they were half gone, then threw the rest into the air above her head, arms reaching high as a champion. Still unable to see her face, I hadn't the benefit of a facial expression to guide my thoughts. It may have been that very thing that drew me into her fantasy and somehow made it my own. I saw a story of hope when I watched her through my heart of colored glass and wondered to myself, which of us had just imagined that?
- Jeannie Minor
As I drop my fifteen-year-old son off at school this morning
The day being overshadowed by yet another school shooting
Makes me want to know who or what
Is doing all the recruiting to all these school shootings
To light up our screens with all these horrific scenes
From these troubled teens
With all this evil that it sends
All the family memories it brings to an end
Listening to the innocent screams of our kids
As fear fills their atmosphere
From the unmistakable echo of gunfire piercing through their ears
Uncontrollable tears running down their face
As everyone finds themselves out of place
Hearing their friends cries falling in the shooters eyes
defying the moment when your child is faced with fight or flight
Should we have them continue to hide
Hoping fate is on their side
Or should we teach them to stand and fight for what is right
Because at the end of the day
We want to things to go their way
Caught up in this killers path
Pinned down in the devil's wrath
We are all living in the aftermath
How many more sons and daughters must they slaughter
Before we deal with these almost daily shootings in our schools
We need to quit playing the fools
By letting Congress rule over anything to do with our schools
It's us as parents who are left to bear the scars
Of our children who have taken their place among the stars
We need to make our schools a safe place to learn
As parents with children, we all need to be concerned
And take what we learned
Put it into play so our kids come home safe
At the end of a school day
If a shooter should come their way
The dog's paw clawing on the linoleum,
Restless pacing while the kettle starts to
Activate steam. No, it's not a choir of a
Nimbus of gold, just the unmistakable,
Sudden realization that the sink is leaking
Cold tap water on a Monday morning -
Everything is heavy, until it isn't
Nobody told him that climbing out of
Despair felt like a wet, damp blanket
Eventually hung up to dry by the fire
Now, the prolonged static in the radio clears
Cutting through the kitchen grease
Exposing the manner in which dust settles.
The Blue Sapphire Necklace
was a priceless heirloom
passed down for three
generations.
Arthur and Ella Vance
cherished the gem, keeping
it locked safety away from
sight.
Their closest friend, Julian
Croft, visited often but secretly
craved its immense wealth.
Julian sank deep into gambling
debt, desperate for a way to save
his reputation.
One stomy evening, he broke
into the Vance estate wearing
gloves and a mask.
Arthur caught him in the
study, resulting in a violent
and fatal struggle.
Ella ran to the hallway to
scream for help, but Julian
silenced her too.
He ransacked the mansion
from top to bottom, tearing
through every drawer and cabinet.
To his absolute horror, the hidden
wall safe was completely empty
and wiped clean.
Julian fled into the rainy night
empty- handed, leaving no physical
evidence behind.
The double murder shocked
the community, and the case
went cold for a year.
Julian slowly began to think
he had committed the absolute
perfect, untraceable crime.
The breakthrough came when
Julian hosted a lavish anniversary
party at his new home.
Guests admired his sudden
wealth, unaware of the darkness
funding his lifestyle.
His unsuspecting wife walked
down the grand stairs, dazzling
the crowded room.
Around her neck gleamed
the unmistakable, legendary
blue gemstone of the Vance
family.
A retired police detective
among the guests immediately
recognized the stolen heirloom.
Julian had hidden the jewelry
inside an antique grandfather
clock he stole that night.
He thought the police would
never check the hollow casing
of the wooden clock.
The necklace was finally
recovered, and Julian was
led away in handcuffs for
murder.
The wedding was completed…
in the cabin only Damien, Trista, Deborah and I remained.
when we heard the unmistakable sound of a bird
crashing into our window pane.
We ran out on the deck and were happily amazed…
to find a little warbler standing there…
She seemed unhurt, unscathed…
but she was definitely dazed.
We knew it was best to let her be…
so we told her she was welcomed to stay…
to take all the time she needed…
to get herself ready to fly away.
We were hoping all she needed was a little time to get herself together
to take a little rest
and, sure enough, the third time we checked on her
she had flown back to her nest.
Once we knew that warbler was safe…that she had only been stunned….
my mind immediately found their way…to the words of Emily Dickinson:
If I can stop one heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain.
If I can ease one life the aching
Or cool one pain
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again
I shall not live in vain.
Of course she was talking about a male robin not a female warbler
but it really doesn’t matter the gender or the name….
or, for that matter, if she was talking about animals or humans…
Emily’s message is the same.