"nocks" poems - Hello Poetry

Spring comes little, a little. All April it rains. The new leaves stick in their fists; new ferns still fiddleheads. But one day the swifts are back. Face to the sun like a child You shout, 'The swifts are back!' Sure enough, bolt nocks bow to carry one sky-scyther Two hundred miles an hour across fullblown windfields. Swereee swereee. Another. And another. It's the cut air falling in shrieks on our chimneys and roofs. The next day, a fleet of high crosses cruises in ether. These are the air pilgrims, pilots of air rivers. But a shift of wing, and they're earth-skimmers, daggers Skilful in guiding the throw of themselves away from themselves. Quick flutter, a scimitar upsweep, out of danger of touch, for Earth is forbidden to them, water's forbidden to them, All air and fire, little owlish ascetics, they outfly storms, They rush to the pillars of altitude, the thermal fountains. Here is a legend of swifts, a parable — When the Great Raven bent over earth to create the birds, The swifts were ungrateful. They were small muddy things Like shoes, with long legs and short wings, So they took themselves off to the mountains to sulk. And they stayed there. 'Well,' said the Raven, after years of this, 'I will give you the sky. You can have the whole sky On condition that you give up rest.' 'Yes, yes,' screamed the swifts, 'We abhor rest. We detest the filth of growth, the sweat of sleep, Soft nests in the wet fields, slimehold of worms. Let us be free, be air!' So the Raven took their legs and bound them into their bodies. He bent their wings like boomerangs, honed them like knives. He streamlined their feathers and stripped them of velvet. Then he released them, Never to Return Inscribed on their feet and wings. And so We have swifts, though in reality, not parables but Bolts in the world's need: swift Swifts, not in punishment, not in ecstasy, simply Sleepers over oceans in the mill of the world's breathing. The grace to say they live in another firmament. A way to say the miracle will not occur, And watch the miracle.

0

Apr 22, 2014

Apr 22, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC

st64

Swifts (by Anne Stevenson)

Spring comes little, a little. All April it rains. The new leaves stick in their fists; new ferns still fiddleheads. But one day the swifts are back. Face to the sun like a child You shout, 'The swifts are back!' Sure enough, bolt nocks bow to carry one sky-scyther Two hundred miles an hour across fullblown windfields. Swereee swereee. Another. And another. It's the cut air falling in shrieks on our chimneys and roofs. The next day, a fleet of high crosses cruises in ether. These are the air pilgrims, pilots of air rivers. But a shift of wing, and they're earth-skimmers, daggers Skilful in guiding the throw of themselves away from themselves. Quick flutter, a scimitar upsweep, out of danger of touch, for Earth is forbidden to them, water's forbidden to them, All air and fire, little owlish ascetics, they outfly storms, They rush to the pillars of altitude, the thermal fountains. Here is a legend of swifts, a parable — When the Great Raven bent over earth to create the birds, The swifts were ungrateful. They were small muddy things Like shoes, with long legs and short wings, So they took themselves off to the mountains to sulk. And they stayed there. 'Well,' said the Raven, after years of this, 'I will give you the sky. You can have the whole sky On condition that you give up rest.' 'Yes, yes,' screamed the swifts, 'We abhor rest. We detest the filth of growth, the sweat of sleep, Soft nests in the wet fields, slimehold of worms. Let us be free, be air!' So the Raven took their legs and bound them into their bodies. He bent their wings like boomerangs, honed them like knives. He streamlined their feathers and stripped them of velvet. Then he released them, Never to Return Inscribed on their feet and wings. And so We have swifts, though in reality, not parables but Bolts in the world's need: swift Swifts, not in punishment, not in ecstasy, simply Sleepers over oceans in the mill of the world's breathing. The grace to say they live in another firmament. A way to say the miracle will not occur, And watch the miracle.

40

With crooked cap and crooked smile The archer nocks an arrow. His target breathing easily - For now, if not for long - It stands completely unaware. The ****** goes unnoticed. With beating wings and tampered breath He sights the arrow on his prey. His wrist like granite draws the bow, His seasoned eyes drawn to a heart. A life beats, still unburdened, While its rival flutters strong. Two wills at match; with great respect The archer takes his aim. Now solemn, breath a distant curse - How stones have shown more tremor! - The moment falls, the bow held taut. There is no going back. Steady... Steady... - The arrow finds its mark.

0

Oct 19, 2012

Oct 19, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC

sean-pope

Archer

With crooked cap and crooked smile The archer nocks an arrow. His target breathing easily - For now, if not for long - It stands completely unaware. The ****** goes unnoticed. With beating wings and tampered breath He sights the arrow on his prey. His wrist like granite draws the bow, His seasoned eyes drawn to a heart. A life beats, still unburdened, While its rival flutters strong. Two wills at match; with great respect The archer takes his aim. Now solemn, breath a distant curse - How stones have shown more tremor! - The moment falls, the bow held taut. There is no going back. Steady... Steady... - The arrow finds its mark.

22

People take it for granted And just assume that everyone has it To feel themselves be captured By something they won't admit To feel the pain That consuming torture To have that warm beat in your chest Spreading like wildfire To feel what I want to feel Not when the music starts Or when a novel ends I want that constant suffocating feeling That gives my life meaning I want to be whole and broken I want what words can’t explain Or letters can't decode I want to be torn apart And sowed back together I want to feel my stomach drop when life nocks me down I want to feel my vocals rip When i cry I want to feel Like something to someone I want the emotion of knowing I ment something I felt something To feel the raw emotions Of being human Not this numbness Not the dread of the sunrise knowing It will be gone

0

Aug 19, 2019

Aug 19, 2019 at 7:54 AM UTC

Simone13

I want to feel

People take it for granted And just assume that everyone has it To feel themselves be captured By something they won't admit To feel the pain That consuming torture To have that warm beat in your chest Spreading like wildfire To feel what I want to feel Not when the music starts Or when a novel ends I want that constant suffocating feeling That gives my life meaning I want to be whole and broken I want what words can’t explain Or letters can't decode I want to be torn apart And sowed back together I want to feel my stomach drop when life nocks me down I want to feel my vocals rip When i cry I want to feel Like something to someone I want the emotion of knowing I ment something I felt something To feel the raw emotions Of being human Not this numbness Not the dread of the sunrise knowing It will be gone

33

I love you A little boy sits in his third grade classroom He wonders why he hasn't any friends He asks his mom "Why!" Why do they look at me like I am different Why am I so alone I love you A few years later on the soccer field A boy from the other team nocks him over Instead of anyone helping him up They all laugh Even his own team. He asks his coach the next day Why no one helped him Instead his coach walked away I love you Finnaly he graduates high school Everyone around him is hugging and celebrating Except the three foot radius between him and the nearest person at any time Before he could leave though a girl walked up and hugged him When she let go three years had gone by and she was in a beautiful white dress and the boy now a man smiled I love you The boy loved his wife Every morning he called her beautiful Every night he kissed her forhead before sleep Even the day he got the call that his mother had unexpectedly passed away I love you The boy missed his mother He he looked for her in the clouds In the Bible In the bottom of every bottle I love you Along came a day when his wife told him to stop looking and read Three hours later she was packed and the divorce papers were signed I love you He cried that night He missed his mother He missed his wife He looked to the sky and cried "Father!" Why am I alone Please don't let this happen to me I love you That's all he heard When he woke up he realized he was not alone He had God to lead his life You see when the boy asked his mother "Why!" Something special happened That night he dreamed a life without God He soon learned God was always saying to him I love you He realized real friends aren't had They are made threw life long experience God placed the boy at a crossroads between Love And Anything less The boy now knew he simple had to chose love He knew he could because He was loved I love you

0

Sep 2, 2016

Sep 2, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC

dillon-berrus

I love you

I love you A little boy sits in his third grade classroom He wonders why he hasn't any friends He asks his mom "Why!" Why do they look at me like I am different Why am I so alone I love you A few years later on the soccer field A boy from the other team nocks him over Instead of anyone helping him up They all laugh Even his own team. He asks his coach the next day Why no one helped him Instead his coach walked away I love you Finnaly he graduates high school Everyone around him is hugging and celebrating Except the three foot radius between him and the nearest person at any time Before he could leave though a girl walked up and hugged him When she let go three years had gone by and she was in a beautiful white dress and the boy now a man smiled I love you The boy loved his wife Every morning he called her beautiful Every night he kissed her forhead before sleep Even the day he got the call that his mother had unexpectedly passed away I love you The boy missed his mother He he looked for her in the clouds In the Bible In the bottom of every bottle I love you Along came a day when his wife told him to stop looking and read Three hours later she was packed and the divorce papers were signed I love you He cried that night He missed his mother He missed his wife He looked to the sky and cried "Father!" Why am I alone Please don't let this happen to me I love you That's all he heard When he woke up he realized he was not alone He had God to lead his life You see when the boy asked his mother "Why!" Something special happened That night he dreamed a life without God He soon learned God was always saying to him I love you He realized real friends aren't had They are made threw life long experience God placed the boy at a crossroads between Love And Anything less The boy now knew he simple had to chose love He knew he could because He was loved I love you

64

Dug deep I digged this dirt and dragged down dark dermal tissue, Diamonds in the rough. Picked and plucked I perused polished pieces of painful porcelain, piercing pockets in my peripheral parts, precious pearls and petals I peeked and pounced. Bleeding black blood from bored brackets in body's bursting bark, I grasped golden, gleaming glory. Gazing greedily like I'd gotten God by his good gourd, I let needles nick nocks into niche nooks and night nothings knap nooses around my neck, my needle in the haystack. My night, my might, my one of a kind, My Kim.

0

May 13, 2017

May 13, 2017 at 5:41 AM UTC

jackledead

Pores.

Dug deep I digged this dirt and dragged down dark dermal tissue, Diamonds in the rough. Picked and plucked I perused polished pieces of painful porcelain, piercing pockets in my peripheral parts, precious pearls and petals I peeked and pounced. Bleeding black blood from bored brackets in body's bursting bark, I grasped golden, gleaming glory. Gazing greedily like I'd gotten God by his good gourd, I let needles nick nocks into niche nooks and night nothings knap nooses around my neck, my needle in the haystack. My night, my might, my one of a kind, My Kim.

8

Words said Glass broken Words whispered Words written Black and blue Blood runs Tears fall Nocks loud Screaming an crying Roses thrown in a whole Crosses where worn the day he left me ... ---------------------------------------------- Blood spilled Ghost tracks down her back tears fall on a old picture Curses yelled an blood ran again ( this was in tribute to my beloved best friend Ash ..he is gone now...an one day i hope to see him again )

0

Jul 13, 2015

Jul 13, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC

RhiannonMystique

Alone and Broken

Words said Glass broken Words whispered Words written Black and blue Blood runs Tears fall Nocks loud Screaming an crying Roses thrown in a whole Crosses where worn the day he left me ... ---------------------------------------------- Blood spilled Ghost tracks down her back tears fall on a old picture Curses yelled an blood ran again ( this was in tribute to my beloved best friend Ash ..he is gone now...an one day i hope to see him again )

18