These Sea Epic poems are examples of Epic poems about Sea. These are the best examples of Sea Epic poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
~ATLANTIS~ Featuring:) Kelly Deschler
Can't be re-written by the Gods
The land and sands of time'
Destroyed by the fire of Poseidon's curse
Atlantis swallowed by: Earth
In one day and one night
Peaceful existence met its end
Built on a volcano, now surrounded by ancient rippled tears
Lava stripped apart the rich and glorious empire
Enriched by Engineers and Architects whom loved power more than the Gods
Forgotten souls, sheltered by a watery grave
History withheld from shallow sunken memories,
Western sky's hide the truth, a vision from the Pillars of Hercules
"An island situated in front of The Strait of Gibraltar"
Ghostly ruins wait to rise above the Mediterranean and Atlantic Waves
A magical island held down by the hands of death,
Atlantis lost city walls ---a secret hidden by mermaids
Partially buried, beneath the ocean floor it lies
The largest sunken treasure never to be found
Magnificent pillars of an imperial palace still stand
Somewhere hidden under ancient sand
Some are leaning against turrets, that toppled after the impact
Nothing human will ever inhabit these walls
No feet will ever touch these staircases, again
Only an eerie silence now resides here, with the blue-green waters
Seaweed grows along it's outer walls, like ivy on a trellis.
Obscuring it even further from the human eye.
Other ocean tides will never compare
Tantalizing blend of fantasy and mystery
Stone walls covered with precious gems
-Listen to PLATO'S voice-
"Look close, Look close, into the sea!"
Through the light and Pillars of Hercules
Some where out there buried in the vast
ATLANTIS THE PARADISE
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
There Be Dragons
In that place where the Earth meets the sky
Where magic reigns with myth
There dwell, yet still, great dragons that fly
Blue unicorn and gryph...
Fantastical creatures cloaked in time
An epic testament
Where the Zepher lifts the fae--sublime
No longer reticent--
Beware! The splenetic Nebulous
Who guards the minutes there
Her exquisite mass is ravenous--
No jot or tittle fare!
Do some planning should you gallivant...
The fae will help you see,
Lilly, Lilac, Aster,Skull--enchant
With such simplicity!
By the Willow Bliss of Yesterday
You just may want to quit...
But don't let your vigor ricochet
Cherish your kismet!
Delight the dragon and get a wish
Show some humility
But watch your heart--his favorite dish--
There be dragons in the twilight of day
Timeless and roaming free...
Seek an oasis wherever you may
And most aggressively!
Foreshadowing the dusk, appeared immense,
magnanimous the skylines sent the ship,
its blackened sight embossed the thought and sense
of sailors that imagined its long trip.
The ship's black smoke ascended to the skies
from supercilious tall funnels, smog
bestowed its sacrificial offing size
to sovereign Gods that lived inside the fog.
In front of us, the ship's displacement thrilled
approaching, hence, magnificent the moors;
Her Soul, the Sea, and eulogy that killed,
relentlessly enticed, through dark allures.
The night descended when the ship's steel gaze
examined curious and measured me,
proposing wedlock and a fate of blaze,
my competence, demanding, in the sea.
Across the Straits, young Lady Sadness kissed
with ripping cold my twenty years and eyes,
resembling Her Soul, the Sea, amidst
the Northern winds that howled and life's demise.
© 10-15-2013, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
and the wonderful seas.
and the perfect trees.
to bring you to your knees.
No longer wonderful,
no longer perfect,
it all ends in a suicide squeeze.
And after the death,
of every last person,
nature selects its nominees.
To start all over,
with a new life,
ruling the world is now the
And in this pitch black,
dark little world,
a human voice rings out in unease.
And the voice is heard by the now
who finds new strength,
to fulfill the child's pleas.
And the heavens come,
creating a magnificent breeze.
And the voice is discovered,
a hidden child,
who is rescued by the greatest of
And a great battle is fought,
many lives are lost,
for the smallest of adoptees.
And the world is rescued,
with but a few extra guaranties.
These are promises,
made from the earth,
sure enough an official decree.
21 February 2013
I muse a song that songs have known,
and often of it sing
what of waste? what of want?
and of desired things,
I tell a tale no man has known,
and every man same
in the blood of human life
all hearts, they beat the same
speak of drear and weary thought
and rise thee from thy grave
oh the things we poets lost--
so often short of change
ah, the signs that hold us so
bound, we are, to fate
myth we cannot seem to grasp
held to that we state
legend--how it holds us so
even as the moon
we, the sea of hope and dream
pulled away too soon...
and the shore, so very close
each time, we stake our lot
we fall as once upon a dream
so short of this we sought
but once again, our eyes, so still
bereft of light, remain
and seeing there the cliffs again
a seabound soul, we gain
to toss and turn a-thousand nights
to lie awake in doubt
to hope beyond a weathered shade
of days, we drift about
Mary Rose, the mighty sailing sea vessel glided majestically across the waves
She had robustly and bravely sailed the briny waves for many a night and day
With the ocean's heaving gusting squalls blowing off proud stern and mast
Sailing victorious and proud - her billowing white sails were cast
The calm, liquid waters of the sea flowed quietly purple for now-
Unaware of the coming storm that would beat furious against her bow
Her alabaster sails whipped violent and furious in the oncoming storm
Impending doom was yelling its cries while the seamen went unwarned
Down below, inside their cabins the seamen peacefully slept
Wrapped in the secure watch that their gallant captain kept
The oceans black, boiling waves beat savage against starboard and port
As Captain Noe standing fearless - at first quake, did not the storm report
The old wooden beams of the Mary Rose began to restlessly moan and creak
While the blackened roaring, rolling waves beat furious against her feet
Her alabaster sails rose proud- beating mighty against wailing squalls and gusts
While deep inside the bow in bunks, the sleeping seamen thrust
Suddenly...they heard the captain's distraught voice cry out
When the seamen heard his voice -they heard fear without doubt
“Awake, all of ye’ ”, Captain Noe forcefully roared
“Alive! Awake… all ye’ seaman come quickly up on board”!
The savage spirit of the sea reigned fierce with rage and fear
While the brave captain fought - loyal seaman brought up the rear
They courageously fought together - not silenced by the eye of death
As the sea raged violently against them with its brutal, menacing breath
To save their mighty Mary Rose, they’d dip their very souls in blood
Leaving themselves merciless against this drunken, mighty flood
With plank and bow standing fierce between them and their fate
The raging ocean’s fierce, blackened waves - the sea they could not hate
The morning brought the warming sun which rose broad above the waves
The winds had tamed their violent voice against captain and seaman brave
With unshakable courage and seaman’s wit not once were spirits broke
Each cheered his mate and captain strong as they fought with steady stroke
Their peril fought in days of danger and night filled with pain
Their manly courage did not wane - their fight was not in vain
For all the courageous seamen and their brave Captain Noe
Joined together in hand and spirit to save...their proud Mary Rose
The greatest holiday gift I ever received
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears
I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin
For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so
Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading
We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy
We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores
On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through
A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee
My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve
This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for
We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me
Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
Waves crash the rocks in ecstasy
as I pass the archway
to the sea.
Onwards to the village,
the aroma of coffee brewing,
as a power of teens gather, texting.
I venture down
a chestnut lined road
under a canopy
of Copper Beech
where bright shafts of sun
illuminate a lane of lavender
a sea of perfume
wafts the air.
Climbing an incline,
hills in view,
the distant sobbing
of water sounds
a trickling brook emerges
ambling through magenta heather
and thorny gorse.
I reach a stile,
entrance to the woods
where a carpet
of frosted red cyclamen
bleeds down to a deep dark glen.
A chicory lake lies there, frozen
as a mist uncurls between reeds.
The granite hills,
soft with snow,
luminous against a whale grey sky.
A copse of pine trees
surround a curving river
where trout pout, bubbling.
At the fold of day,
The pale sun sinks the horizon
as stars tremble
into a velvet night
Well what should I write about tonight?
Should I write about what I did today?
Should I write about my shoelaces?
Should I write about doing laundry?
Or Should I write about what I'd like for breakfast tomorrow?
Maybe I should ramble about how the school day went.
Maybe I should complain about my room being dirty.
Maybe I should name off the food in my kitchen.
Or Maybe I should just talk about my hair.
I wanna talk about what I'm learning on guitar.
I wanna speak out about my inner issues.
I wanna yell a crazy rant.
I just wanna blow off some steam.
I wish I could take a bath with a girl right now.
I wish I would've finished my homework.
I wish I could shoot ice from my finger tips
I just wish I had some soda to quench my thirst.
There are so many things I could say right now!
But I just can't seem to decide.
I'd probably get some pretty weird looks
If I told you what's all bottled up inside.
I'm everywhere and nowhere in my head
Ideas and thoughts bouncing left and right.
Too bad I can't seem to think of anything.
I was really wanting to get some feelings out tonight.
Do I need to shave in the morning?
Should I go to the music store after school?
Why didn't I grab matching socks?
What does the weekend have in store?
I wish I had something to write about.
Eh, I'll think of something tomorrow night.
The winds of the night creep in on you and they are up and about.
They surround you in the darkness and shed you into some light.
They are given and they are taken with your most silent thoughts.
They pass through your hidden fears and come from plain sight.
The winds of the night so clever and discreet they really are.
They hold no boundaries to your beginning and nor to your end.
They are warm and they are cold rising above you and reaching up from far.
They are of their own power and hold onto all claims of their own.
The winds of the night come sending a message to the unknown.
The winds of the night are aimless but when directed they drift all together.
They are dangerous when calm at night a sight not even one has really seen.
They are unsettled with no balance yet predictable by where they all concur.
They capture what is felt and heard because they’re accepted as they’re deemed.
The winds of the night come and go for they are on a lifelong mission.
They are silent within your journey for they can not be spoken to or touched.
They exist for your life bringing the world into its final rule on deception.
The winds of the night carry enough strength to lead a massive world into the unjust!