Long Zigzagged Poems
Long Zigzagged Poems. Below are the most popular long Zigzagged by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Zigzagged poems by poem length and keyword.
The train, halted under the shade of sacred hill
They flowed out, and, wandered here and there
holding big, small, colorful, old and new packs of belongings
To, find comfortable chests and knees
some carelessly slept on un-desiring places,
but many there stood still
to face the misty, white clouded sky beyond the ridge,
Perceived their feet had reached
the starting point of adventurous tramp
Men, women, young and old with little ones
crept forward Just like a bunchy row of ants
filled with amazement; some stood, and watched
the vivid green forest canopy and flowering ferns
swinging in the frosty breeze!!
The minds filled with compassion, harmony
and respect each other
By murmurous chanting, that oozed into their veins
in the morning twilight
Tenderness of beams brighten the white dresses
of devotees
Time passed slowly
And the far valley down, a string of people moving upwards
on the zigzagged narrow path
Surrounded by thick green vegetation which
being the habitat of bees, birds, butterflies and
variety of big and small animals
Oozy willows dropping pearl like cold water drops
But few of moving people put a glance
at the phenomenon!
What a peregrination, having a cool gust thrill
which each body and its soul begird
The strenuous walk will bring to a halt at the noble foot print
Some managed to reach the desired end
but some could not attain the will
they stopped hopelessly, stepped down
with forsaken aspiration
those who topped the hill, huddle together
engaged customary rituals,
The eco of the ringing bell spread over the chilled atmosphere
through hill tops, forest, and the moving folks
Excitement broke out
Devotees squeezed catch a glimpse of sunshine!
The sun appeared slowly with a trembling smile
through the glistening horizon
Sunshine! Miraculously radiated across the mountain range,
forest canopy and everything
open to tender beams of light
What a huge strength,
Noble hopes and wishes
fulfilled the pilgrimage!
J.Weerakkody
(This poem is about pilgrims who climb the summit of breezy sacred mountain of Sripada, the holy mountain of Sri Lanka, where suppose to be emblematized the footprint of Lord Buddha. After worshiping the sacred footprints the devotees anxiously watch the panoramic maiden sun rise over the sacred mountain. The poem is vividly realized descriptions of nature.)
Anxiously anticipating annual activity
Blissfully bound by bravado
Consuming cold contagious concoction
Dizzily developed devilish desire
Eagerly expecting ego's enlightenment
Feverishly foraged familiar fraternity
Garnished gowns graciously gathered
Hopeful heralded hithered happenstance
Instantly intimated identical ideologies
Jointly jousted jovial juxtaposition
Kaleidoscopic keepsake kept kinetic
Longing languid lustful longitude
Miraculous marvelous momentous movement
Nursing nocturnal natal namesake
Observing others obstinate opinions
Preparing precious paternal post
Quickly quietly questing quarters
Radiant reared remained rambunctious
Stifled stern stayed sturdy
Transmitting tantalizing topical teachings
Understanding umbrage utilizing unity
Vital vibrant visceral visions
Watchful wonderful whimsical wishes
Yonder yearning youthful years
Zanily zigzagged zesty zenith
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The reindeer folded their hooves in protest
demanding no more rooftop dashes,
no hauling toys in winter’s blustery blast.
Picket signs read: No More Sleigh!
Dasher, his loyal and faithful reindeer servant,
even burned his harness! What should Santa do?
A desperate Santa, opened ZipRecruiter with a click~
Urgent: Sleigh Team, No Flight Experience Okay.
The squirrels showed up with acorn résumés,
gnawing the reins and forgetting the route.
Team Squirrel was speedy, but slightly unkempt,
cheek pouches bulging with ill-gotten tempt.
They zigzagged the skyline, dropping acorns like coal.
Even Santa’s sleigh wobbled left, then right~
At dawn, the squirrels parked crooked on a power line,
cheeks stuffed with stolen candy canes, utterly divine.
Emotions of incompatible severance ebb my spirits
Taking me into a world that no one has ever been
Upon nights of deplorable torment I see the unseen
Darkness wills me over and tears my heart away
As I feel the hot, sticky tears crawl down my face
Pressed against the scorching window I gaze into high heavens
Pain dispersing through and avalanching my tearful eyes
There’s a supernatural pressure pervading my soul
Nothing makes sense anymore…my poetry is dying!
The world in which I find myself is constantly fighting
With emotions unchangeable…horrible…plighting
I would kill them all to feel the one I shall never have
I would kill myself to make the oceans part again
Till then, let the pieces of me float gently in red waters
Flowing seams taking me through; eels eerily watching
Making me covet for action, to feel each satisfaction
I want the anything, impossible to grasp
My hands are hooves, I can barely hold you
I can’t get out of this world; can’t escape the blue
Zigzagged rhyming, bad timing…hating me
Just cutting me more and festering harboring the pain
The white blood cells are against me, blooming insanity
And like a dump the junk increases and sinks into holes
Sticky soil of dead corpses lifting the infection killing me
Not enough; I’m still here…black, bloodied flakes
I can’t hold on…my gory hooves are splintering in the coagulation
My mind's eye is murdering my soul…aching…raping
My head is still pressed against the window
My mood eyes are set on the sun’s hemorrhage
Piano fingers pressed on the crackling glass
We’re shattering in this world of mine…I’m dying!
What a world, what a world
I’m plunging down into the sea as the snake snout finds me
The eels welcome me as I sink into their homes
Snap! Snap! Silent snapping of the flesh! Hear it?
Lost in the brackish wetness of eternal sleep
Not even aware they are eating me…everything—
Save my heart; it’s still there…can you see?
It has fallen even deeper, settling on the bitter bottom seafloor
What a world, thumps the heart
See what my world did to me
© 2010 (Jim Sularz)
A morning meadow - tall, red-yellow speckled,
now, humbled low by the wind.
Conifer sundials – mirrored shadows, slowly stretching, dancing, and then diminishing - along blurred edges of a lush, flowing sea.
Feathered, high flying eagles soar, circling small and wide, against a blue, white pillowed sky.
… a crow caws.
Nuzzled prairie dogs, with tethered tails, scamper for cover,
for danger spirals, just above.
Harvester ants marching in tiny zigzagged columns,
tunnel an ever deepened colony -
twisting around creviced rocks and roots.
Lightning fast gragonflies – thin tinsel winged airships,
darting, spinning, some kissing.
And white petite wild-flowers,
bobbing from honey bees, stand quivering.
Multi-colored butterflies flutter, undecided,
and brown-helmeted grasshoppers oddly peer -
like praying mantises, eager to leap.
Chirping sparrows, with cocked tails,
sand-bath in a warm, thirsty, summer sun.
And cat-tails, bursting, pierce through a sparsely wooded island.
A distant thunder-clap, and crawling, flat, anvil-headed clouds -
slide down majestic, snow-capped mountaintops,
marking the hour, like clockwork, this time of year.
Dusk comes, bathed in a warm, orange-amber hue,
waxing and waning with a melting sun.
A red fox stirs, finding at twilight’s gate, fresh promising scents, for her young.
And black masked raccoons steal away, through soft, cool moonlit grasses –
in a hushed, clown-like parade . . .
As I dwell in this sanctuary of place and spirit,
beneath an infinite, star-painted canopy.
I know with certainty - of mind, heart and soul,
that when God’s rainbow palette had hardened and dried -
All were - Forever One.
Over the course of 25 plus years,
I have moved some 20 times in 4 states.
The course was neither aimless nor casual.
It wasn't heavily winding, but the route was crooked.
I have lived in a hotel and a boat for several months.
Each of our three kids were born in a different state.
One is a Northerner; one's a Southern; One's a Westerner.
I and my family were never homeless, nor were we vagabonds.
Like popular songs, 'we got around' by being 'on the road again'.
This papa was not a rolling stone, nor did he consider his home
to be everywhere he laid his head. Albeit, adaptable and flexible.
I must say that technically, I was homeless when I was forced
to live about a 100 miles from my family. I lived with an elderly
friend 4 nights a week for nearly 3 years. I lived on my friend's
50 foot boat for several months until a storm nearly took me away.
The morning after the storm was a portrayal for 'MEANDERING memories'.
On all fours, I zigzagged between down lines, MEANDERING my way to safety.
A picture of our various and multiple moves would be an interesting
portrait of MEANDERING up and down highways in the Midwest and south,
and a long trek across the USA from near the mighty Mississippi to the Pacific.
On more that one occasion, I have experienced 'The Crooked Street' in San Francisco. The trail of my MEANDERING life is not quite like the Crooked Street, but there are rather striking similarities. The MEANDERING would continue in the city by the bay until a job change forced us to move about a hundred miles Northeast to the river city of Sacramento where we have
changed our abode three times. Only time will tell if this MEANDERING continues rolling along.
091621pscTEST, "M" Contest, New Poems Only, Constance La France
I am lethargic at best, wiped, totally beyond thinking
My sleep patterns are not evenly zigzagged
Up and down, my eyes are open every two hours
Not a nightmare or stress; I do not know what it is
I cannot get out of bed today
Good thing I do not have to
I am glad it is summer break
yet….
summer break is killing me
I need a daily purpose, the only thing I have going is
I have to feed the cat.
That was done four hours ago
My hair needs cut and dyed.
I have been saying that for a week now.
I should bathe. If I had one bit of energy I might.
There is nothing here right now, no one is home.
I doubt there is a person in this shell.
I am exhausted; is it lack of sleep or lack of purpose?
Does it matter?
A lot of really big trees had died to make that desk. His mother had probably gnawed them down, used her nails to saw the boards, and finished the decorative cutwork with her tongue.
Jennifer Crusie
My mom kept a patch of zamia trees,
freeze brook zigzagged and zinged,
zesty zephyr's laid cape from breeze,
zap zander tinned.
She accomplished zoning using a zax,
she led my zest and dream,
I can't cool off, I can't relax,
zealous esteem.
She shields me from rain and zenithal wind,
she kept zeal to be strong,
by lead and zaniness of mind,
zigs right from wrong.
1St Place Contest Winner
21-December-2022
Constance La France Zip, Zig, Zag, Zing form
Rhyme pattern: abab, cdcd, efef
syllable pattern: 10, 6, 8, 4 in each stanza
"In the echo of silence, the whispers of the Divine are heard." By Rumi
I entered the winding path into the captivating vale
Surrounded by ice-capped mountains and ancient trees
Firs, larches, redwoods, spruce, and ash, all grand
I shouted in glee: “I’m here!” All around some Echo replied.
A repetitive Echo, always vibrating and mesmerising.
What a singular sound to hear nature at its best!
I lounged beneath the shade of an old maple tree,
Where the verdant vale lay sprawled in front of me.
Balmy breezes blew through dark green trees, an Echo divine.
Tiny thrushes flitted from bush to bush.
They permeated the vale with their familiar songs.
Occasionally they rested on a dense bush,
Hush! Did I hear the song again?
Choirs of echo resounded all around the lush plateau.
Down on the majestic plain, a babbling brook meandered
Towards a clump of cottages, providing water for all.
The rivulet was a sight with fronds of ferns unfolding.
How delightful to hear the water emanating such dulcet echo
As the stream zigzagged around rocks and small waterfalls.
Every echo ended in silence profound and I was in God’s peace.
A holy hymn hummed serene: echo after echo, all divine.
Placed 1
I can still recall the look upon His face
Each thought still makes me go to that enchanting place
The vernal air was floral sweet and honey breezed
We roamed along Venice's zigzagged lanes and cobbled streets
On our secret rendezvous,We hugged affectionately under pastel gothic galleries
Greeted by the aromatic smell of freshly brewed roast coffee beans
Strolling along the pigeon-filled piazza San Marco
We wandered hand in hand,in the serenissima ancient floating land
Street musicians played their flutes.as We sat on a roof-top wooden terrace
We glanced at merchants sell hand-blown murano glass
by the picturesque Doge's palace
We ate a snack , then walked away towards the old opera house
which now has risen from its ashes.
We sauntered forward through little alleys
from where He bought me ,a gold painted venetian mask
To my surprise ,He had another gift,a wrapped up scarlet sheer laced basque
I peered at him through my dark lashes,He raised his left brow and flashed a smile
Expressed his charm in playful ways,in a flirtatious endearing style.
Boarded at last on a black gondola,cruised the lagoon and the canals
A few light kisses,a few soft brushes,waiting the bell's toll whilst in his arms
There we lay in waiting beneath the bridge of sighs
We sealed our kiss and promised lips,to the harmonic sound of chimes
He leaned on me,I welcomed Him,our spirits been entwined
Above,the sky has changed its colour,I watched the sun set in his eyes
All I am,I gave to him,my enduring heart- His sacred shrine
All that He is He gave to me in once upon a time
Not for the contest,but thanks for the 'Lovemaking in an ancient place contest,inspiration'.
This post is inspired by Ancient Venice and the tale of 'The Bridge Of Sighs'
The tale goes-If you kiss your loved one with the bell's toll of St,Mark's Basilica,
at sunset,beneath the bridge of sighs,the couple seals their love forever.
There is another tale to it,a sad one,but preferred to share the happy one : )