Long Hoopoe Poems
Long Hoopoe Poems. Below are the most popular long Hoopoe by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hoopoe poems by poem length and keyword.
Eons ago, near two flowing rivers in old China
Lived an old, white clothed man ninety-nine years of age
Who glared at two mountains he knew from his long-dead childhood
Who glared at the giants he always had dreams of
The first was a mist covered mountain, where all beasts were blind
With whispers of meaningless legends and theories
The second was a fiery mountain singing in passion
With trees and bushes with golden leaves, but no fruit
Both these mountains trapped the souls of the damned under the dirt
Both buried the light in the damp cyclical tomb
The souls were angels who defended their land from the night
Horsemen who guarded against the Prince of Darkness
The inner soul of light within the old man awakened
The youthful hoopoe bird within chirped for freedom
He began his work, to dig into the mountains themselves
He started to craft a path for all to travel
A wiser old man came up and saw the sweat raining down
And chuckled at the absurdity raining down
“Oh friend, you cannot remove one grey hair from the giants
How in heaven’s name can you crumble these mountains”
The foolish grey-haired man, singing and young in his caged heart
Said these words, roaring with his liberated mind
“My children shall tear the mountains by their blood-covered hand
My grandchildren shall destroy them with their chisels
My offspring will fight as unsleeping armies in the night
My offspring will never surrender their grand fight
The birds of the blue sky will peck the mountains piece by piece
The worms of earth will eat the fortress bit by bit”
These words reached the wise man’s inner heart beating with wonder
These words reached the sun and moon’s delicate bright souls
So the ships of light carried the message to the blue sky
The Infinite Father of Greatness and Lightness
The blue sky ripped apart the revolving grey clouds of might
The expanse of azure blue split all into two
Daylight shone in the highest firmament of dark violet
Daylight shone in the lowest crannies of Sheol
These two mountains vanished as if they were nothing at all
These two watchtowers crumbled in the gentle flames
Leaving no fortresses between the two flowing rivers
Leaving only an untouched garden, eons old
Anecdote:
For a nuptial effort, I was editing a photograph, my former husband, and his two classmates, as we were proposing for one, not all of them!
Posters are problematic these days, with every hotline too!
Please ignore, once your own tire, is acted up.
It is conveying a symptom, an outlier or an eloquence.
Now give them a brake, as you are not an advertisement, here.
***Quantitative process of elimination (Poe),
how can you be a parable that you are not a hoopoe within? ****
"You are nagging too much, these days!"
The time, outspoken, looked into the eyes.
I am pieced off with Du'a and Gloria Anzaldu'a
I am Netherlands, perhaps Holland, Hall &, and yet Norway....
Now you popped out from nowhere, half-hearted and negated
(and said),
e will become gradually into E, and all I heard , perhaps,"Thou art a....!"
I foretold this must be an acne issue with hormone, either hyper, or hype-o
Now "Being" a rare loner lump some inside a prayer room, where shall I serve the Type-o?
The Imam simply withered away, yet his glory is not! On a Friday, even though, remembrance about,
But the sister theory is giggling and nagging around, anything, other than this, without outsider harbinger chariot!
As every should could, perhaps, whence the targeted e is a mere life, not a grandiose Neon God!
These are all "Bay leaf " shape poem, unequivocally true, for the bookmark of your "Al Quran-ul- Kareem" and "hadeeth"
Even though price variation, there is a "housekeeping should" of the reason behind, that you will be liable al through,
Lentil and Moong, Mosul, and other peas, all you will subtly be, a graceful Imam your self
You did not disgrace them, and you did not happen too!
I will urge the time, to declutter own whine, to serve the deepest strength, the other side of your Chromebook screen
Or else, I will be a mere outlier quantitative with crispy onion, for lentil, alfalfa, already piled up algae enigmatic scene
Your work talks there, not your mannerism or coy word, lucrative, adjective or precisely so!
First 'be'! A distilled water bottle in calling for reverie, once rational, for any book, any letter too!
1:38 PM
9-5-2024
So, I am hiding Occupied state
Or, else or, learning french occult eBay at
Non nuptial lady , a loner, an ex-positional urge
Inside the total nine after, even after a dirge
Alma mater in Houston, there will be a problem with Poseidon surge
Gone baha'i , a limerick try, optional pagan gods and winds around our flagstaff, IN
Animesh is ricocheting, consulting appendics
nonetheless painless as free as the appendix did say "Ish........"
Duncan hill and healthy premium is a cliched a trope
Hiatus , a self imposed speed limit where a bird, divine hoopoe
in colors and diva, will be "assimilating" marination tonight,
(and a fried second paper, oil blessing.)
About:
Sonia Gandhi is a royal chant there, like the people's princess and she
She is a muse , con clues on (and on) , with communal commuter and mundane be!
Why Al Pacino is a PhD dissertation, not now, not YA incognito !
As ethnic dish discourse will have ties to Gospel in a national crisis
With the Nobel prize, navel cutie and baby bottles and dresser case, cliffhangers!
Rules (unruly)
Once taken you cannot take it back, here they Stan, there they channelize
The "room" in Alexandria, Italic or a "Bambino" try."
Will you be trade relations with the orphan or a parallelism in "Ces't la vie?"
Will you be that oxymoron, to the symphony , flora and fauna
that had an entire Ramadan but never against a fie!
(Case and Code, both switches)
For a widow they say, the loosing atlas!
And for an affidavit , they say whisk() in a canop() try
And then board as you may find solace in grace (head on again, never hedonism)
did you marinate in between? Or ritual Can I pray today?
Can i try? Can i die? Can i sigh? Can i hi? And most of all
can i Nye?
January, 2025
Beneath the shapeless sky of blue
In the valley lacking a hue
Was an isolated thin pond
Where birds sang their short song to bond
Singing a song hoarse with throats sore
In the midst of their pond’s vapour
And dunking their bodies with threads
Into the pond, scratching their heads
In the midst of this quacking though
A foreign and sweet song did grow
A song soft and low in its pitch
With tunes so gloriously rich
From the bird of the pond of brown
With a towering orange crown
From an egg of a pearly hue
That flew down from the boundless blue
And was reared by the pond’s brown birds
Though the pearly egg spoke no words
Now that hoopoe bird did well sing
When it grew out from the mud spring
Taught by the blue scimitarbill
His unseen twin that came with skill
So Mani, the hoopoe bird, sang
Sang without lips or a sharp fang
To the simorgh bird that stood tall
Strong though unseen and above all
The brown birds of the pond quacking
At last heard their valley quaking
Quaking from the gentle ringing
From their adopted bird singing
When the hoopoe was at last done
The birds in fury beat their son
Mani wounded and in much tears
Flew away from any harsh ears
While flying and singing with skill
He saw his loved scimitarbill
“Mani, the simorgh has sent you
To sing an ancient song anew
To sing to every nest and tree
So every bird may sing with glee”
So the Prophet Mani prepared
To sing across the world impaired
He crafted seven tunes to sing
So all may feel the simorgh’s wing
From the valley of detachment
To the valley of wonderment
Singing his melody up high
And flew to the shapeless blue sky
“Father of All, Hoopoe of the Shining Light
Voice of Truth, singing above pits of night
Light singing in heaven’s tree above the height
Barbelo in the heights unthinkable
Nous incorruptible, Word untouchable
Forefather whose voice is unspeakable
Father whose feathers are impenetrable”
Norea the phoenix cried with tears in eyes
Heaven’s birds heard and flew her to the skies
To the eternal garden of endless size
Under the singing doves of holy glass
That her head may rest in Epinoia’s grass
Resting under the wings of Adamas
To attain her first mind through Christ’s wings of brass
So, in this place, she breathes forth offspring herself
She has been gifted the Logos itself
She sings with the soul of Adamas himself
In unity with the undying birds
Singing immediately with life-filled words
With the eagle of Christ, the guide of herds
Resting in the light which she knew before words
Dwelling through the mind of mankind’s forefather
That Invisible Simurgh, the founder
She gives praise to the hoopoe bird, her father
She rests in the Gardens of rest and light
There are days where she beholds the Garden’s might
Her soul will be ever filled to the height
For she has the four doves, whose glass wings shine bright
The stained glass doves intercede for her again
To Adamas, in his heavenly den
That Hoopoe who rests in all the race of men
Housing Norea’s joy in his feathers
Who sings about the one name without measures
“All-Father, Hoopoe of holy pleasures
Voice of Truth, singing beyond earthly treasures”
Watching Birds In The Garden
Watching birds in the garden
amidst of mundane
chores
to bore
is my simple pleasure !
That trove of treasure-
I enjoy in my garden and lawn
at every early dawn.
Group of sterlings
quarrelling and chirping !
Flocks of sparrows to hop and chirrup:
Taking morning tea as I burp.
I observe,
cooing doves
and little birdies with sweet tweets
fed by parent bird bit by bit
through beak to mouth agape !
That makes me laugh.
Parrot or parakeet
sometimes visit
Even hoopoe, though rare
really cares
to whelm me:
Tough enemy
of small Insects,
they detect
from ground
all around.
Off and on a kite
on its flight
takes rest on tree top.
Ambient is disturbed.
Flocks of crows get perturbed
with shrill caws non stop.
Simple fun has turned my addiction:
Free entertainment ! No restriction.
02/ 09/ 23
A Simple Pleasure
Contest by Julia Ward.
Those days of mine, unbridled underneath my golden sky, no longer misfit a gold coffer, intertwine
That the core innermost mine, my serene rainbow, those days of mine, rainbow blossom
Intertwine
In grip, they grew beyond the yonder valley to this lowly glum and glee
Those days of mine, unbridled underneath my golden sky, no longer misfit a gold cage, intertwine
My soulmate, met heartsong , chorus hymn song prayer
Erudite they were a wishful whim of mine, we were, there
They all were, flew away together, pensive a jocund, never waited in words to the superlative
Those days of mine, unbridled underneath my golden sky, no longer misfit a gold coffer, intertwine
Dreaming along a day, aspiring through a may, as if the longing were to become
Roaming around my parts and ashes of inferno, Gone long a skeleton , myriad and longing heartsong
Those days of mine, unbridled underneath my golden sky, no longer misfit a gold cage, intertwine
Morbid, this depth of a croon, is it a sophist plethora, mind playing tricks on mind?
Those fugitive neighbors of shadow, hoopoe of my shadowy flight
None knew why , underneath the golden sky
Those days of mine, unbridled underneath my golden sky, no longer misfit a gold cage, intertwine.
January 1st, 2024
Mushrooms
and
meadows
Sunshine
and
shadows
Gentle
ripples on
the calm
river
Foaming
rapids in
white
water
The jungle
echoes in
the semi-
darkness
while
daylight
creepy
crawlies
clear the
mess.
Peasants
seen
toiling and
pheasants
go
scratching
as I spy a cricket kinda'
somersaulting
The cactus in
imagination, the
desert's prickly
femmefatale
Elsewhere a lone fallen
leaf
floats in the canal
Prairie dogs go popping
while hares go hopping
But in town, ladies go
shopping
Swans have formed a V-
line
The flora is ooh yes
divine
and bees they form a
bee-line!
Seista seizes birdlovers
too
They miss out on the
hoopoe's
song
for the hoopoe it does
not sing
on cue
since a bird may sing
anytime
to woo
Gosh what a contrasted
medley became of the
scenery
Town and jungle, the
eve's
murk or dawn's greenery.
Ah wherever you go
nature's
so panoramic
Painters paint pictures
but God
actually created what's
picturesque!
Everyone loves him. A nice amicable guy, as he is no relative, he is no refrain. He starts within a rhythm when often a melody is surreal and soars along the flight of the song, up high, high above, where God knows everything about eternal time, beyond the worldly cacophony and hustle and bustle. Sometime a song is a mere glass effect and even though some days are also a lit up chandelier and even after all these I feel homesick for a glow in the dark with a softer greenish hue of prayer bids, long dispersed, long gone, Am I growing in lie, am I hardened in feasts through the festive nights, that knew that everything fits through misfits, ever sustaining to adjust , every discord, every subtlety melting with heartache , mundane trickling down over the smile lines, ever paired?I never wanted to know. My shadow leaves there, before the effort of guessing into the depth.
And Salah rush to myriad, I will come back to thee, after every sound, every note and a long day.
And I will bring shalom to thee!
There's little or nothing to do,
it's a February rainy day,
Danny molds Batman out of brown clay;
snow is melting after Saturday's blizzard...
I spot a hopping lizard
chase a scary hoopoe!
I strum on my steel guitar
a new melody unique and sad...
who knows it might be a symphony
with the simplest melody;
I'll add lyrics, thinking they are swords
that scare and defeat vicious warlords!
I play it on a snowy night in January
when no sounds are heard
and thoughts aren't muffled...
by the presence of a gentle wind
that doesn't scatter the snow and goes far
to caress with its cold breath a jealous star!
There's little or nothing to do
on this rainy February's day,
this guitar keeps me company
and strumming its strings,
it gets me through this long Saturday's blizzard;
nobody will wake up: they are chasing dreams,
nobody will see my monotony...
but Jessica who listens sends me a Kudo!