Long Up and over Poems
Long Up and over Poems. Below are the most popular long Up and over by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Up and over poems by poem length and keyword.
For the moment I merely watched him
Running back and forth in his home
I am patient you see
I am full of time plenty
I am the sly one in the darkness and I am hungry
So I waited, all day I waited,
All night I waited, I waited, waited, waited
And in the morning he came out of his house
I waited no more
I struck like a black bolt of lightning streaking down from the heavens
As if Death itself had ripped across space to sever everything with its scythe
I screamed down from heaven and struck
Only to find him leaping up and over me
To tumble in the air and land behind me
I landed in a crouch...
Peering around over my shoulder I gleamed at him
He for his sake I saw glaring back at me balefully with eyes and one hand beckoning me
I snarled
Spun around and lashed out with my whip as I did
He ducked it,
With the speed of sound my fist struck him
He blocked it
Out came my foot, and then the other
He evaded the first, and caught the second
I rolled and struck him across his face with the first
Again I landed on my feet
He staggered back and with a back flip he was ready once more...
He wiped his nose with one hand
Bade me come at him again with the other
A sly half grin on his lips
I charged this impudent fool
Changed direction, spun around
Out came my whip
Out came my foot
And he leaped over my whip
Flipped between my foot
And struck me twice with his own
light kicks to the face meant to shock me more than hurt me
We parted and circled each other
Looking for openings in the other's defenses
And there because I am patient I found it
A chink in his armour of skill and technique
He was mine
Again I rushed him in one smooth fluid motion
Twin kicks, the whip, my fists, and head butt, knees and elbows
In blinding fury, speed and in the space between thought it was over...
He retreated blocking the kicks,
Ducking the whip,
Avoiding the fists left then right
Catching the head butt in his hands
Countering the knees with his knees
The elbows with his elbows
And then...
He did the impossible
He
Defeated me
Rolling backwards he slammed my head into the wall,
Sliding from beneath my crumpling body with his feet
To stand ready inches from my limping body
I remember thinking then as my eyes closed to the world
"That's one damn tough hamster," I get out of the Kitty Clinic in two days
I want a rematch
As I wandered about the lush lawn
In the gazing ball I glimpsed
A breath-taking young woman with a touch of innocence
In her soulful, violet eyes.
I was mesmerized by her beauty
And I had to look up to see that this vision was real.
I did so slowly, and found her gazing a bit boldly
Straight into my very soul.
When she was sure she had bewitched me,
She slowly turned and walked down the garden path
Knowing that I would follow, meek as a lamb
Into her lair.
Into a secret garden she led me,
This girl with the violet eyes and beautiful thick hair
Which she started to unpin and let fall,
Cascading down her back like a waterfall of shining waves.
When we reached the center of the garden,
She turned and waited for me
To come close enough to see the rise and fall of
Her beautiful breasts, corseted to their full advantage.
Though they were lovely, it was the eyes that held me.
She ran a light finger along my lips then pressed it to her own.
It was then I noticed the fullness of her mouth, lips slightly parted
And silently beckoning me to join my lips with hers.
And so I did, and the kiss that ensued was
Warm, and sensuous, and became urgent as it continued.
I felt her tongue and tasted her sweet breath and thought
I might faint at the passion that coursed like lightning through my body.
And without notice, it ended, and I opened my eyes
And found myself standing along in the garden
My very body still on fire with the electricity
Of that kiss.
In a daze, I stumbled back toward the party,
And upon seeing my unsteadiness, my host
Invited me into the manor to cool myself
Out of the heat of the sun.
As we walked through the massive doors,
I glanced up, and over the enormous marble mantle
Was a portrait of the girl with the large violet eyes,
And the cascade of dark hair, and the lips I still felt upon my own.
I asked my host shakily, “Who is that”?
He replied with a shudder that she was Anna,
His betrothed, who had been lost on the sea
And had never been recovered.
Years later I wonder, was she ghost or spirit,
Was she there that only I could see?
The passion, the taste of her lips,
Still electrifies my body and soul as I dream of Anna’s French kiss.
Written 8.22.21
Such Majesty There, Where Nature's Beauty Abounds
There it was deepest beauty all the way around
Whispering winds echoing most colorful sounds
Like a vision from a very passionate dream
Earth, sky unified into giant flowing stream
I lone interloper into majestic views
Wanderer drinking in, birds, trees, overhead blues
A pilgrim self-sent on my first real Nature quest
An awestruck fan, praying to be its welcomed guest.
Old leaves crunching loud under my invading feet
Pondering, is this any great way to first meet
Speaking soft to critters, as they scurried away
Assuring forest, destruction is not my way
Following along winding ancient woodland trail
Heart, mind and soul under beaming Nature cast spell
Around a narrow bend, climbing down small stream bank
Stopping, kneeling, drinking and giving God my thanks.
Stepping across stones, over waters crystal clear
Thinking if this would be destroyed, my new deep fear
Over to yonder hill, small saplings at its base
Magic colors sing, behold such infinite grace
Suddenly a rush, as swiftly away raced deer
All three knowing the truth, do not let man too near
Watching as they flew and jumped over fallen log
Each springing up and over like a leaping frog.
With such majesty abounding, soul wanted more
Grateful mind promising, to come back to explore
Bring along my best camera to pictures take
Save all to a pretty Nature scrapbook then make
With purest joy, I turned to trek my way back home
Adventurer, seeking under Nature's green dome
Finally arriving at my car at sunset
Explorer thinking this is as good as it gets.
There it was, deepest beauty all the way around
Whispering winds echoing most colorful sounds
Like a vision from a very passionate dream
Earth, sky unified into giant flowing stream
I lone interloper into majestic views
Wanderer drinking in, birds, trees, overhead blues
A pilgrim self-sent on my first real Nature quest
An awestruck fan, praying to be its welcomed guest.
Robert J. Lindley, 9-10-2018
Rhyme, ( Remembrances Of An Early Fall Nature Trek)
Finished and edited from an earlier version written in 1977.
Weird Ways and Good Old Days
If feature was made into a modern day
About past, wonder what it would say
Things have been done in weird ways
And were always called good old days.
This to some might sound like a crock
But we had a party on every block
Goings were easy and never tough
Knew how to play Blind Man's Bluff.
During each day was Carolina blue sky
And we would all play Mother May I
With much vigor and a lot of pep
To either take giant of small step.
We were nice, kind and never mean
Played Red Light mixed up with Green
While there living like a local native
With new games we had been creative.
Boring new games and news have become
Put in thumb, pulled out prune not plumb
Shriveled up and over back was bending
Can you imagine him to White House sending.
What if we were to have Hillary instead
Already made and slept in White House bed
Know below are two states called Carolina
Where they are supposed to store the China.
Has knowledge of where things should go
What wall to place a Benet or Gainsborough
And no one there will look at her suspicious
Knows difference between cat and doggie dishes.
Knows dots from dits and triangles from squares
And about foreign affairs she never despairs
She still is a faithful lover of Steve Schultz
Has his characters on all of her quilts.
After further experimenting in a lonely lag
What they came up with was some old crab
Who forever and a day resided in Vermont
Can't tell can't from caunt and ant from aunt.
Here is something else between you and me
Poor soul only has undergraduate degree
And out wonder how many would flip
When service responsibility he did skip.
If someone were to be an brilliant inspector
Berne had been a conscientious objector
And even though he may be slender and tall
Is Senator from almost smallest state of all.
(This also goes for City he was a mayor of.)
Last thing I know is he thinks guiding the
VA can be counted for foreign affairs. He
must be the only one who cares.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Dang them grey clouds are rolling in
What’s wrong with life I don’t even know where to begin
Life is down and out my theme song is being played with a violin
Bad times and down times is all I know because the good times are a has been
Up and over the hill I cant make the climb
And I haven’t even reached my prime
I think it’s here yes it’s about that time
I stand here in front of you and admit I have crossed the line
Tired of putting up that fake smile in place of the truth
I sometimes wish I could go back in time to my youth
My life is something you don’t know
I thought I was making it out but the pain only continues to grow
It’s a shame because my life cant even flow
Over the people who do me wrong
Over the people who use me for what I have
Over the people who believe they know me
Over the people who pretend they are there for me
Over the friends who call themselves real
Over the girls who think they different
I am over yall can’t you see
My life is mine it can’t be used as a shopping spree
My advice is useful and has a special key
My words are that of wisdom in which most will agree
My poems and quotes will bring you down to one knee
So stop buying my life and burning it and leaving me with the debris
I am tired of always having to put up a fight
I am weak now and but anger shall not be seen I will remain polite
Where are the real people please shine your light
Because I am surrounded by the fakes something I recite
Can’t say hi on a daily basis even if you try with all your might
So don’t call me for that favor late at night
I am tired of doing favors and being nice your taking advantage and it’s just not right
My life has no flare you guys put out my flame
Putting my life to shame
Girls should know I am too old I don’t play them little games
I am not an object in which you can claim
I am not an animal in which you can tame
What you guys and the world made me is what I became
Congratulations you all get a round of applause your in the hall of fame
For what you ask…for taking my name :/
© Jeremy Fennell
There
Your hand
That exquisite, sexy little hand
I reach, oh so slowly
My index finger extended lazily
But with enigmatic intent and subtle grace
(Like Michelangelo's Adam on the Sistine Chapel ceiling ...
Desperate for the touch of God)
I softly touch your thumb, and there is an electric shiver
Not static or reaction or even a spark
But rather the gentlest of vibrations of skin rubbing skin
The hairs on the back of your hand stand up
And I know, when you don't pull away
That you like what I'm doing ... that I can continue
I increase my pressure just slightly, and slide
Running my finger along the soft inside of your thumb
Up and over the tip, pausing playfully at your bright pink, shiny nail
Then down the inside slant to the fleshy notch there
I run my fingertip tenderly back-and-forth
(With a similar motion and intent that I hope to use in more secret places)
Then I push it slowly into the space below
And you turn over your hand, palm up
The ends of your fingers tremble and quiver
And I know you're anticipating me ...
Wondering what is next ...
I pause for a moment, to let your mind spin
Then I trace around the edges, up and over each finger
Down between the spaces, pressing on the warm skin that connects them
And when I reach the base of your pinky
I softly, slowly, tenderly, with the care of a first kiss
Work my fingertip to the sublime soft-center of your palm
First making tiny circles there
And then writing sexy words in cursive
Writing in love's language the things we'll soon be doing ... together
As a final touch, I withdraw my hand and put my finger gently in my mouth
When it's sufficiently moistened and shiny
I return it slowly to your palm
And make a final, sweet, small, sexy circle of wet ...
The period to the torrid tale I've written there
The story of what we'll soon be sharing
In soft, silky skin and sighs ...
And moonlight.
Submitted on May 1, 2020
To the "Strand No 740, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest
Brian Strand, Sponsor.
My little running buddy, my best furry friend
You came into my life
As a white bundle of goofy bichon
Dressed up as a terrier.
You terrorized our Princess Xena,
And, as a crazy Hallowe’en pup,
Climbed up onto the table
To lick clean butter and sugar bowls
And back down again to chew the table legs!
You chased the beach birds in Tofino
And Phyllis’ cat in New Brunswick.
Oh, you were so full of mischief
But the aroma of fresh bought roast chicken did not entice you
As you were perched up on the back headrest
Anxiously awaiting our return!
Always a crazy ball of energy.
Let’s see if she’ll run, I said,
And there you were at my heels
Or up ahead looking back to see if we were coming.
Up and over the hilly trails
Or miles of dike along the river.
Year after year, all kinds of weather,
A different colourful coat for every occasion.
The many road trips, sleeping quietly on my lap
Or going for a ride on two wheels
With the best seat in the house, wearing your doggles!
My motorcycle pup, running buddy, cycling sightseer,
At home wherever you were with me,
Whether it be on the top of Mt Seymour
Or the back of the Chief, the alpine meadows of Baker
Or the Pacific Coast Highway!
Unconditional love, always a kiss
Oh, what we humans could learn from our 4 legged friends!
Always there for me, to kiss away the pain
Of my broken hearted wounds
Through the emotional hills and valleys of my life journey
You were my best furry friend for 18 years, 8 months.
A little trooper with a large heart right until the end.
An incredibly long life, always willing without fail,
Loving and faithful to the end of your days,
You looked into my eyes and kissed me goodbye.
Your little body gave up but your brave heart beat on, so strong
As your life ended so softly and gently.
Chloe, my best furry friend, my little running buddy......
I will miss you so, your little dance, your kisses,
Your greeting at the door, all but memories now & forever.
CHILDREN OF LAHORE
(Easter Sunday 2016)
Arms flailing
From
Her
Blue burka,
The woman
Jumps
Like a checkerboard
Piece
Up and over
The white squares
Of bedsheet
To bedsheet
To bedsheet
Each
Draped
Over a
Red blossom
Bump
Lumped
And soaked on
The gravel dust
Fairground
Floor.
Like a game of peekaboo
Between mother and baby,
The woman
Lifts
A corner of sheet
Howls
Then pins it back
With her fingernails
And just as quickly
Jumps
To the next
Small
Square
Hump-covered
Sheet
Lifts
Repeating
The move
Three hundred
More
Times.
“Ibrahim!
Ibrahim?”
A police officer puts her in handcuffs.
No, her husband
Is tackling her.
Actually,
She is a fly swatter
Crazed, swinging at new yellow ghosts.
She
Tears
Her hair
Out
From the back of her head
Like overgrown grass
Grabbed
From a mud puddle
In clumps
Clamped
In her garlic-laced fists,
Even the dirt is surprised,
Hanging
By its bloody roots,
Dripping
In the air.
That is what a bomb, does.
She was a mother
An hour before,
Before she lost her shoes,
While she sat to the side, chatting
With friends
On a bench
As the Merry-Go-Rounds
Went round and round
And round
In the safe distance
And the painted horses
Panted
In the yellow dust.
The children stood in line,
Waiting their turn,
Sharing candies
From pockets and purses,
Checking time
From their phones.
The mother’s shoes
Were spooked
Away
Like fish behind a glass
At the moment
Of the hot flash and swish.
That man,
Yes
He knocked on the glass,
He knocked on the glass,
He pressed his narrow face
As he peered in,
Yes,
He knocked on that glass
Just before
He pulled the cord
Wrapped
Round his waist.
Oh, beautiful God
How could you allow this?
How could
Even the Devil
Do it?
Only a man.
Only a man
Of unfaith,
Of course,
Could smother the sunlight, like that,
Blowing to smithereens
A playground full of children.
And Dreaming She Conquered Her Mountain
Dreaming of Mountain Conquest.
and dreaming she conquered some mountain;
and she went up and over the ridge to him
and he came over to the white cloud tops
and the wind moved him like rain over her hair
and that he was more and more in love with her
and one night she became his voice this dream
and she lived on that mountain; she conquered.
This passage appears to be a fragment of a poem or a prose piece that describes a dream-like scene of two people conquering a mountain together. The language is metaphorical and symbolic, emphasizing the connection and love between the two individuals.
The first line describes a woman dreaming about conquering a mountain. This could symbolize a personal challenge or obstacle that she has overcome, or a metaphorical representation of her journey towards her goals or aspirations.
In the second line, the woman climbs over a ridge to meet someone, presumably a man. The fact that she is coming from a higher vantage point suggests that she has already achieved some level of success or progress, while the man is still on the other side of the ridge.
The third line describes the man climbing up to the "white cloud tops," which could represent the highest level of achievement or success. The wind moving him like rain over her hair suggests a sense of intimacy and closeness between them.
The fourth line suggests that the man is becoming more and more in love with the woman. This could be a literal description of a romantic relationship, or a metaphor for his admiration and respect for her accomplishments.
The final line suggests that the woman has internalized this dream and made it her own, living on the mountain and continuing to conquer new challenges. This could be interpreted as a message of empowerment and resilience, encouraging the reader to continue pursuing their own goals and aspirations.
Just outside my window
a row of coned shaped trees bend their foolish heads
for his attention.
He can have his way with them........
yet with such a wily nature, he passes over them.
Instead, he slowly slithers through my window while I sleep
the angle of his glance makes my closed eyes flutter,
and I smile........
His appearance, casts shadows on the wall, as he stares across the room at me.
I feel him move over me
I am sun kissed by this welcome intruder, by his warming touch, his flaming breath
Dazzled by his embrace, I toss the quilt, and open myself to him
He caresses so softly, warming my heart, and making me sigh...
with gentle touch upon my face
I bask in his love, as I lie in sweet gratitude, my sleepy state...
enraptured with sweet contentment
Soaking up and drunk with the solstice of his shine
Outside, eucalyptus branches are jealous
Impatient and longing to feel this splendor
.....But, woefully,... even I....begin to feel his presence is fading
As angry clouds return to steal away our moment
He runs and hides! No longer do I feel the kiss....
Coolness envelopes me as darkness returns again
His golden touch is gone, I am once again alone in the shadow of the gray morning light
I must pull my blanket up and over me...
to take away the chill
Inspired by Miss Christie Moses 'The Soul of Sunshine' contest