Long Yogi Poems
Long Yogi Poems. Below are the most popular long Yogi by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Yogi poems by poem length and keyword.
I want to find a Boo-Boo
for my Smokey Bear
So now that you’re aware
of this just stop your
staring at me
Please hear my plea
Next time you
talk to Yogi
ask him ‘bout a
Boo-Boo Bear for
Smokey
The forest fires burn
burn, burn, burn, burn
Keep tryin’ to contain them
but those whack-a-moles
yearn to be free
Please listen to me
Next time you
talk to Yogi
ask him ‘bout a
Boo-Boo Bear for
Smokey
Smokey needs a
Boo-Boo Bear so
when he retires
he’ll take over his work
preventing forest fires
Can’t you see?
Please hear my plea
Next time you
talk to Yogi
ask him ‘bout a
Boo-Boo Bear for
Smokey
My heart pounded in my ear as I ran, stopping periodically – silent, listening. Was he coming? Had he figured out yet that I’d runaway. Was he behind me or would he be waiting behind the next tree or bush? Where was he now? Or was he only inside my head, that throbbing sound that penetrated through my hopes, my prayers, my faith, so that I couldn’t quite breath and so that I couldn’t quite find the strength to do much else but run from the arrogant weight of his darkness shadowing all my good, all my light, all my chances.
I took another step and stopped again to listen, checking the silhouettes of branches with leaves dancing a waltz along the path where my feet pressed into the rich, black Appalachian forest. I was surefooted on this trail since I’d spent most of my mornings walking these very tracks with my favorite partner and canine, the little white cock-a-pooh named Yogi who knew me as his person and friend, his comrade until the end. That was then, though. Yesterday, before the darkness had betrayed my spirit and set its claws into my presence, awakening the dread, the anxiety, the fear that was so strong it seemed to cling to the tears welling up inside of me, pouring rivers of sorrow upon the mountains surrounding me.
In just minutes I found myself wading through the creek where the clear, cool water whispered, laughing at my alarm, promising my thoughts that the terror would soon be gone. Only, it would not. It was there, a lasting dismay, treading the waters of my prayers, hollowing out a hole inside my mind where it told me I was about to learn what it means to live the nightmare that has haunted me for all time. He was alive and as long as he lived I had the fear that could not be calmed, the fear that was like a vine clinging to the blossoms of my hopes, my dreams, my needs. He was alive and he wasn’t about to relax his hold on my yearnings and let me go free.
Chapter 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
September 18, 2022
New York, New York, the road in the fork
of the events, the places and folks who've buttered the pork
Like Rockefeller, Moynihan and Andrew Cuomo
Frank Sinatra, Louie Armstrong, John Lenon and Yoko Ono
Lenny Bernstein and Lenny Bruce
Cookie Monster, Rocky and Bullwinkle Moose
There's Radio City, Central Park and Carnegie Hall
Coney Island, Yankee Stadium -- Let's Play Ball!
The Brooklyn Bridge on the Hudson River
Lower East Side and the Village, for swingin' livers
Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle and White Ford
Don't forget Casey Stengel and Yogi Berra -- Oh, my Lord!
Marilyn Monroe, Madonna and Phyllis Diller in curlers
Archie Bunker, the Meathead, Anne Meara and Jerry Stiller
Stooge-mania, West Side Story and Annie Hall
Kramden, Norton and the Honeymooners
You've seen or heard of 'em all
There's Madison Square Garden and the NY Philharmonic
The Times and Wall Street Journal -- news junkies tonics
Malcolm X, Dr. King, and Abe Saperstein
Julius Erving / Dr. J with a case of Afro-sheen
Baldies like Kojac and Yul Brynner, the King of Siam
Sam I Am, Son of Sam, Green Eggs and Ham
Harlem Globetrotters, the Apollo, Kareem Abdul Jabbar
Jay Leno, Ed McMahon and Johnny Carson, the great Jack Paar
There's Broadway, Times Square, Soho and Fifth Avenue
Isaac Stern, Pavoratti, Willie Nelson and Ray Charles singin' the blues ...
Make a list from the Statue of Liberty all the way up to Mars
~ You still might leave out a legacy of constellations and stars!
"Always go to other people's funerals, otherwise they won't come to yours."
Yogi Berra
I read it and I laughed, and each time I laughed, recognizing it for its humor.
Why would we care who or whether anyone comes to our funeral?
Unless we throw it for ourselves ahead of time.
Which I always thought was a better idea anyway
Especially if we have a disease like bone cancer,
and we know we are dying.
All of our friends could collect at the pub or the church
And say good things about us
To me this is the only reason anyone should actually to a funeral.
When the guest of honor is gone no one knows you anyway
Of course if you are from a small town it is a social gathering
Four funerals a week would not be too many for those people
It beats watching people from their porch swings
The Majestic Banyan
Standing alone in the village outskirts
With branches protruding to the other end
Always makes me feel from two discrete lenses
The exhausted cattle rest under it ruminating and shooing
The shouts of merry boys while playing with marbles,
Climbing, swinging and running around
How nice the day is!
But nothing finds close at hand when dark diffuses gradually
The mighty banyan appears as a dilapidated fort
And frightens me on a full moon night
Its silhouette comes off as
A strutting demon with hair torn off on a no moon night
The hanging roots like serpents swinging upside down
The sprawling and intertwined roots like matted hair of a yogi
When there is a gale, it sways forward
And it resembles a python with stretched jaws to swallow the village
Scary silence pervades around at times
A busy den for the nocturnal world!
The spying owl with its locked eyes
The thrumming camp of flying foxes
Pecks of a distressed bird
Chirps of crickets and beetles
Croaks and hoarse voices as macabre music
Unsettling leaves as elephant’s ears producing susurration sounds
The swarming fireflies around like lights of spirits
The hiss of a snake
And the crackling when it crawls on the dried leaves
Some mysterious chants
And the glowing blood red fire in its enclosed space
Perhaps, the diabolic acts of a sorcerer
For evoking spirits and ghosts hidden in the tree
The raising smoke out from it as a subtle body
Registered as a gruesome tree in my childhood cognitive domain
The Mage's Curse
An ageless man has lived here for a thousand years ago
Now, and at all times, an invisible old ruler of this world
His power is bigger than that of any politician or king
He is an invisible person, living like a basic man alone
A general worker during the daytime, but at nighttime…
He is the power on the Earth – by magic and witchcraft
Oh, the people don’t know what he is doing – life and death
He creates wars or peace with his magical power and control
Believe me, this is true, I am a student of his dark master
He is good and evil. He has no karma, can do anything
Similar to Padmasambhava who is the famous crazy yogi
Oh, the crazy wisdom! I love it! Fantastic philosophy!
So, this lonely basic man drives with his mind the world
With his powerful magical mind, creates pain and happiness
Good or evil? Neither this or that. He stands above the world
He goes through spaces and eras, he hasn’t a limit – divinity
He lives among people, he sees a lot of suffering and cruelty
He experiences the moral decay of humanity, sees the end
He is so sad because the fate of humanity is going down
Must to stop this life, have to start all over everything – he thinks it
Too much selfishness, murdering, suffering, and death – he says it
He doing a huge ceremony, a real and dangerous black magic
Candles are burning, murderous symbols are phosphoresce
Here is the end, thousands of meteors bombard our earth
End of the life
Apocalypse
Humanity
Starts again
The life
A Little Knowledge
My son just started big school and now he knows it all
He says that all the laws are made by bloody Sid E. Hall
We frowned at his bad language and that made him assure us
He’ll speak a lot more better with a book by Theo Saurus
But one surprise he got at school, the first day he went there
TV was invented by a chap named Yogi Bear
He’s not quite sure what happened to make Louis Armstrong Kneel
But one small Schweppes for man seems a pretty lousy deal
He had a suit with lots of space, his eagle landed steady
It seems he might have taken off the cape of Ken and Eddy
A Vulcan interruption killed a town back in the day
They blamed it on an Englishman... but they made that Pom pay
There’s a film about a fish and all the cash it swallers
So my son’s doing a project on A fish full of dollars
He says, ‘CDs and downloads should all be thrown away,
don’t you oldies know that music’s gone vinyl today?’
I guess my son is full of it but that’s made me recall
There was a time when I was young and I too knew it all
More baseball teams will play today,
The season in full swing.
For fans who’ve waited months, there is
Much joy that this will bring.
A friend who read my prior poem,
Comparing life to sport,
Responded with an observation
That I’d cut life short.
For even if we find ourselves,
In years, close to the end,
So many other factors may
Our time on earth extend.
Since there are extra innings played
In certain baseball games,
The bottom of the ninth might not
Be all that it proclaims.
So thank you, Ira, for that note -
We may not be in clover,
But quoting Yogi Berra,
“It ain’t over ‘til it’s over!”
Bozo the clown is ready to begin,
in Cuba, Fidel Castro starts his reign.
Buddy Holly meets a horrible end,
Charles de Gaulle is back on top again.
Motown now brings us a whole lotta soul,
Disney’s Sleeping Beauty warms up our heart.
TV’s Bonanza, Rawhide, Twilight Zone,
and The Untouchables all get their start.
That F104C flies higher still,
the show ‘Rocky and his Friends’ is unveiled.
Marx Brother’s are no longer on TV,
the first ‘Barbie’ dolls are ready for sale.
Vince Lombardi takes over the Packers,
the Cardinals trade just one player for nine.
Tom Landry starts to coach for the Cowboys,
in about 30 years he will resign.
Boston Celtics score one seventy three,
Candlestick Park is now Bayview’s new name.
One-forty-eight straight then Yogi errors,
Boston Red Sox last race barrier team.
Food stamps help to fill our hungry bellies,
a new design for the pennies tail end.
The Dalai Lama has to leave China,
Al Ginsberg’s “Lyseric Acid” is penned.
Hawaii becomes state number fifty,
Japanese Americans freed once more.
Russia shows us the far side of the moon,
America wants to even the score.
No one knows why they played two All Star games,
least they sent someone to the Hall of Fame.
The AFL is the new football league,
Eddie Lubanski bowls two perfect games.
Oklahoma’s prohibition is done,
Soviets to invade Afghanistan.
Able and Baker leave orbit and back,
and NASA announces their moon trip plan.
SR.N1 is the first flying ship,
Lady Chatterley’s Lover is now banned.
Planet 9 from Outer Space aptly named,
as the world’s ‘worst film’ and then it gets canned.
The discovery of Zinj means humans,
had lived at least two million years ago.
Ike bounces his message off of the moon,
we hear that Kookie can lend us his comb.
Hendrix buys his first electric guitar,
he only plays one gig and then gets fired.
Bob Dylan graduates from his high school,
and he is beginning to be inspired.
There’s a growing sense that things are changing,
people can’t quite put their finger on it.
In Wakenda I’m clinging to my mom,
and my diapers keep filling with ‘not spit’.
All paths require total surrender
To imbibe divine grace in wonder
If the chosen path be of the Jnani
Wisdom garnered by connectivity
Awareness stills attention at the periphery
Subject & object merging in entirety
The path of identity surrendered devotion
Unwaveringly seeking the divine union
For all else save God negation
Resonating in silence with the Ohm vibration
Then there is the Yogi
With determination to raise the kundalini
Ready for a leap into the void of uncertainty
A path requiring first attaining inner purity
Yet apart from all we hear a tune humming
A radiance invisible with fragrance uplifting
Receptive heart with hands helping & healing
Embracing without judging and gently flowing
Paths many
Choose any
Or all
As of inner call
29-July-2020