Best Albatross Poems | Poetry
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New Albatross Poems
Don't stop! The most popular and best Albatross poems are below this new poems list.
The White Albatross
by Hackett, Jerry
by Meeker, Catelyn
The Unfledged Albatross
by McGreavy, Maureen
An Albatross Before
by Horn, James
Many Miles To Cross Albatross
by Shields, Jane
Love Letter To An Albatross
by McGreavy, Maureen
A Flight of The Albatross
by Vitale, Mario
by Stasiv, Victoria
Albatross Around Your Neck
by Asuncion, Bernard F.
by Coy, Michael
View all new Albatross Poems
The Best Albatross Poems
When Light needed a body to behold, and color to kiss,
as Darkness dreamnt to die in the dawn of depth,
when Soul lustered to lust for learning, and being learned,
as blood bespoke to bones for building a star of flesh,
when Time needed the umbrage of it's ubiquity to be understood,
the moment texture tempted touch to tease with a thousand sensations,
when laws of love sought a language to express the extremes of it's lips,
as romance rampaged through the ravishings of famished hearts,
when the seduction of sorrow made heros of loving men and women,
When Justice appealed to the instincts of intent for inscriptions of innocence,
as bravery found battle in basic questions of survival and conquest,
when war demanded a metaphor in the terror of it's diligent destruction,
as Faith found resolve in seconds small along with giant gestures,
Death singing melancholoy for sympathy and Life haughty upon it's horizon,
when Angels chose to wear albatross of gold to feel the rue of rogues,
as the most perfect woman ambushed the ideals of rumored beauty,
when God wanted imagination to create immaculate reality
Poetry began, born in the instant of forever Art,
because, the only promise of a Poet, is Passion -
Dedicated to Poetry...J.A.B.
Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014
Frail humans we are and mistakes are made,
but there will be a time to pay
for pain inflicted on others.
Run swiftly from dark clouds hovering above,
baggage like an albatross around our necks --
cast it aside.
Commit to offering kind words,
compassion to all,
bestowing brotherly love.
Make amends when possible
for harmful acts, even negative thoughts,
and promote harmony.
When we stand at heaven’s gate,
we’ll not be asked about material possessions,
but how much love we gave.
The prince and the pauper
will be judged as equals
when the tab comes due.
*Entry for Paula’s “How Due You Dew” contest
Written September 8, 2011
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
black and white landscape
a colony of penguins ~
standing and waddling
in the oceans depth ~
lives a black and white giant
orca killer whale ~
seal on an ice flow ~
oblivious to danger ~
head butting whale strikes
egg laid by female ~
emperor penguin stands guard
female goes hunting ~
not in Africa ~
elephant and leopard seals
sea is their jungle ~
hourglass dolphins ~
smaller than a bottlenose
keen bow wave riders
home is in the air ~
the wandering albatross
a ten foot wingspan
in the frozen south ~
a species of royal bird
the emperor penguin
the antarctic terns ~
fly over a silver dish
krill is on the menu
thick and warm white coat
a camouflaged artic fox
unseen in the snow ~
top of the food chain
carnivorous white giant
fearsome polar bear ~
Copyright © Tom Cunningham | Year Posted 2018
feathers and bones at rest
a belly full of plastic
on our tab starved to death
* * *
our lives framed by beauty
stripped of life
the perfect photograph*
*Image of Albatross by Chris Jordan
Copyright © Maureen McGreavy | Year Posted 2018
In a land far away was a family with two boys
The oldest loved sports the youngest only toys.
You should be like your big brother the father would always say
It’s time for you to toughen up and leave this childish play.
Yes Quinton was a fighter, loved games of every sort,
But nothing did he want to do more than play a sport.
Daniel he was meek and mild a softie like his mother
He hated when his dad would say, “Be more like your brother.”
Hurt and down he took a walk up on a rocky hill
Throwing stones hard at the water, he let his anger spill.
Why doesn’t my dad love me? Into the air he cried,
Kicking rocks with fists curled, tight against his side.
Meanwhile on an island far across the sea
A leader spoke to the animals, almost like a plea.
Legends say a leader from mainland shall appear
A strong and faithful warrior, a boy that has no fear.
How shall we find this man child? Asked the animals out loud,
We’ve never seen a human said a yearling really proud.
The Albatross said strong and brave, I will bring him here
I know he isn’t very far, I feel his presence near.
The bird flew out across the sea searching high and low
Wondering where he’d find him, the boy they needed so.
There; high up on a hill side a warrior stood so tall,
He knew it was the chosen one, for he could hear him call.
Now in a flash he swooped down, grabbed Daniel real fast
The albatross was thinking, I’ve found the boy at last.
Daniel he was screaming as he dangled by one leg
Flying over water yelling let me go I beg.
As they neared the island, the animals all gathered round
Watching as the big white bird, let their hero down.
Welcome said a racoon, we’ve waited here so long
Today we’ll have a party, let’s fill the woods with song.
They sat all night telling horrible tales of an enemy they feared
And all felt a little safer now that Daniel had appeared.
I’m not the hero you think I am, there’s been a bad mistake
And a little bunny looked at him, you must be for my sake.
Daniel fell in love that night with all his new friends here
None of them made him feel bad, they made him feel so dear.
For their sakes I must beat this foe, an enemy, a disgrace
Making sure he never comes back to this peaceful place.
For days they planned together, what everyone would do
And when the varmint showed up they stood up to him too.
Instead of running and hiding, they stood together tight
The badger lost the battle and ran home fast that night.
The wise old owl thanked Daniel for ridding the beast at last
Conquering their worst enemy, who now is in the past.
On wings of love the hero left his friends on the islands strand
When Daniel went back home that day, he had become a man.
The moral of my story? With a little love and trust,
Everyone can be a hero, we are more than clay and dust.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Carol Eastman’s Contest:
Fable to the Rescue
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
A breathtaking panoramic view fascinated my sight into the offing,
As the sea gloriously shows its precious treasure magnificently floating;
Making me wish to be an albatross to hover and hop around;
On those beautiful islands highlighted by a single beauty named, James Bond.
This place is known originally and locally as Nail Island,
It’s one of the best tourists’ spots found in Phang Nga Bay at Phuket, Thailand
A prominent tall stone coated with green nailed unto the sea amidst the others,
Which you and I will surely be amazed by its spectacular beauty and wonder.
Sightseeing trip is priceless while on your way to its exact location,
You can pass by at the Monkey Caves with golden Buddha - another real attraction,
Taking a convenient long-tailed boat as you finally tour along the bay,
Stop by at floating Bin Laden Village to complete your day.
Aug. 2, 2013 12.30am
I've visited this place once & it's really beautiful. To view the pictures, you can google it or watch the movie of James Bond;))) TY
Contest: Latest Poem
sponsor: My greatest poet, PD
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2013
Insomnia, familiar friend,
crawled into bed this summer night
so once again, inflamed with dread
I wander now in pitch of dark
and touch the places, now by heart, that sprawl unstirred by weary minds
This lonely place, where I used to come
where armless grief, and headless doubt
and worry filled the rooms
I know you cold, my land of oz
So ruthless do you change your face
into a place I once refrained
But, don't pretend to make me fear, toxic robber of my sleep
I've known you much too long
You masquerade in shades of gray
And now I know that dark of night, is not the blackest thing
And room by room, I'll play the game
until the light of day
The shadows magnify your art
and though they magnify my loss of sleep
and while I've tossed and turned in vain
I've lost the lonely albatross
that pulled against the grain
From hooded thresholds I embark
to find a language of the dark
A liquid language of a mystic night,
that switches on the light
I've walked the halls of ghosts I knew, and those I hope to meet
I've felt the stares, and shared myself, no secrets left to keep
But not tonight, familiar friend
you bask in myth I understand
I'll fill the tasks that need my hands, until the light of day...
For Leonora Galinta's Contest
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2012
Feathered wings to slice the sky
leaving a cloud residue trail
Shadow the size of a dime on the water
blends into the waves as they sail
Perfume of ancients in salt crested waves
carried toward heavenly things
Rise up like fury to catch the next trip
on the back of the albatross wings.
Albatross flying like a bright white balloon
let loose from a child’s hand
So close to be captured but just far away
to be lost from our view where we stand.
A beacon of sea life, a voice in the wind
at attention and ready to dive
Feathers of flight, dormant by night
“till the waves crashing morning arrive.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005
few are charmed with albatross wings
to glide high above the toothy surf
to soothe the cliffs that yearn to sing
in granite tones of golden destiny
some are born with burning stumps,
prone to dream... never to shadow suns
they cling to icy crags and siren tones
stumbling on drunken cliffs above bloody shoals
others are born void of most everything
say for pearled hearts and hungry beaks
gazing out toward indifferent skies,
awaiting silver miracles that drift on by...on by
a few are never meant to breathe at all
briefly tumbling in the throat of violent squall
wee flakes on glacial lakes of bluing memory
few are charmed with albatross wings
Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2015
on the wings of an albatross
Flying through such stormy weather
battle elements,but not together
deprived of love they should be getting
Alone they walk on different oceans
stormy seas disrupting motion
Soulmates....never too late
two lovers fate as must they wait....
....my mind gets ahead of me
since you're the only one I see....
Copyright © jay del fierro | Year Posted 2007
of suffering deep, tween pain and asleep,
and the curse still lingers like crime,
a fiendish mind wheels, still turning out deals,
and slip-sliding thoughts to begrime,
get back in your box,
begone to the nethers of mind,
bad voices are still,
mourning their loss,
in spirit i'm doing just fine,
got a grip on its throat,
bad thoughts continue to gloat,
yet the battle is mine, bloody mine...
of: p.d. "Cronic Pain"
Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2012
A great unease has come, quite slow to flee.
To some it brings woe twofold. Constantly,
I feel its breath upon me though I pray
to see it gone. Instead, it’s wont to stay -
infecting me with insecurity.
And if it were a thing that we could see,
an albatross I’d guess that it would be -
with feathers changed from white to dingy grey. . .
a great unease.
This fretful thing that smells of misery
has spread its wings and grows relentlessly.
I sensed it in my land the fateful day
twin towers fell and blue sky turned to grey.
Events since spiraled, leaving not just me. . .
a great unease.
(Many things happened to me in the past ten years, particularly
regarding my health, though nothing too horrible. Coincidentally,
these things started up about the time of 9/11 and the war with
Iraq. And so it has all added up(for me at least) to "A Great Unease"
which I believe has also permeated a lot of our world as global economies
teeter and people are hanging by a thread with their financial situations.
I don't mean this to be a completely downer poem, but just a representation
of a feeling that has been new and strange to me in this phase of my life.)
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012
Cruising the Mediterranean
I don't wish to fight any more
I want to enjoy the sunset
On the sea I so adore
Please hold your tongue
View the beauty all around,
Tend the sails with care
So we don't run aground
I'll make us Margaritas,
We'll dine in finest style
As our sloop carries us
Through many a sea mile
No fighting, please,
I beg you,
Let this be a sailing
in but total peace,
And anger and misunderstanding,
I pray that they do cease
So hold me as you did once,
No question of our love,
And watch the Albatross
As he flies off with the dove
The soothing sea to rock us,
As if babies in need of sleep
And the new memories we create
Forever shall we keep.
Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2008
Sit back and listen to the music
let it flood over you stirring your soul
as you listen to the oh so haunting notes
close your eyes and drift away on wings
Each note so sharp and crystal clear
what need for words as you hear
angel's wings beating up high
sails flapping aimlessly
As circling the dying ship
The albatross sweeps the sky
Hear the whoosh as he passes
the sounds of dead souls cry out
Ah Mr Fleetwood you inspire me
as I hear the hauntingly lovely notes
telling the story without words
just letting the notes speak for you
Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2013
Forlorn in midnights vastness
Twinkling cousins as patient companions
She covets him
Her blushing glow pacifying the empty night
Descending toward dawn
He will come for her…
Slowly the stars fade out and night dissipates in morning mist
Ocean breezes begin murmuring the promise
Life begins again this new day
He ascends the heavens upon brilliant light
His rending ardor glowing sultry upon her face
Almost becoming one they embrace in chaste love
Only for the moment before she falls away
Mirroring souls caught in a cyclical lovers dance
Reaching out for the other at dawn and dusk
Losing one another time and again
Forlorn within the midday skies
Gentle clouds and albatross as patient company
He yearns for her
His heavy radiance granting the gifts on the new day
Descending towards twilight
She will come for him…
Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2007
Adrift upon the ocean
bob a bunch of resting birds.
What is it that they call themselves?
A flock or school or herd?
Could it be this feathered colony
is a band or horde at best
No screeches, calls or gaggling,
they don’t brood or crowd or nest
Spread out like black freckles,
birds are shuffled by default.
Flavoring the ocean
dash of pepper to sea’s salt
Not gliding like mighty albatross
with wingspan strong and wide.
Or dancing with the currents
right by the dolphins side
Just floating in the middle
between the blue and green
Neither soaring in the heavens
or a coral dance routine
And there, what’s that beneath them,
beyond their paddling feet
Just some strange attraction?
Or friends they’re yet to greet.
A sudden splash of water!
Could it be a pod of whales?
Or the giggle of a baby seal,
nipping at their tails.
Will they look right through the jellyfish,
that flash and throb and group
to the gathering bunch of mackerel
congregating in the soup
But no, they’re not much bothered
by the party in full swing.
They just gossip amongst each other
While cleaning weathered wings
Waiting for the wind to change
On the ocean they sit tight
Regaining all that energy
needed to take flight
So what's its name, this party?
Of primp and craning necks.
In the skies they flock together
On the ocean, they’re a wreck!
Copyright © Grant Norwood | Year Posted 2016
Looking through my tainted window of gloom
grey skies, rain falling, feeling sorrow
impatiently wanting life to resume,
will things change, get better tomorrow,
sure that grass was greener the other side,
not walking a mile in your well trod shoes
now ashamed looking for somewhere to hide
didn't realise how easily I would bruise,
underestimate this feeling of loss
an unidentifiable man anymore
floundering like a wounded albatross,
indecent intentions, now I deplore
apologises are unheard, your not here
didn't know how so much I loved you dear.
Copyright © Roy Pett | Year Posted 2017
Peregrine falcons at a high speed dive
Albatross starting to soar or glide
Hawks high in the sky
Doves still or continuing to fly
Woodpeckers on telephone poles, near power lines
Crows I see all the time
While working or when I drive
Quail out in the open then they hide
Vultures out to get a piece of the pie
Of whatever happened to die
Jays making noise as I pass them by
Pelicans often near the ocean side
Hummingbirds so cool, quick and sly
Gulls and many others after what catches their eye
Roosters making noise before and after the light shines
Owls on the prowl, usually at night time
Other birds, I'm unfamiliar with, which are hard for me to describe
Bless them all every single type and kind
Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017
“Winter’s Journey” (Part 1b)
Your mother's Universe resounds inside you
where you are every single sparkling star
in every planet’s sky, the Galaxies are vast you see,
in you she’ll never die.
You are all the pearls in all her deepest azure oceans,
every minuscule grain of sand,
all the coal shining precious diamonds in far away mysterious lands,
and the perilous ocean ice-packs where she stood so strong for you.
You are all the treasures in her treasure box, spilling out from
lying quietly in your very own ocean for you to discover when you're
not a kid.
You must remember Little Bear, you're never really
alone nor apart.
Mother Bear is crying out her messages loud and very clear
all over strange clouds and distant airwaves to you,
that she is always very very near.
It rings mercilessly out it’s message
like a toll bell ringing in a raging ocean storm,
remember this message always,
nothing could ring more clearer -
What you think is “easier”
usually the norm.
Believe what she has taught you, the Truth will always steer you Home
when your inner map is foggy,
or your caught pinned somewhere perilous
beneath this expansive Dome.
Listen and remember, keep faith in what she imparts,
this is your shield to deflect all that will burn only for a little while,
it’s just a slight nip, a sharp sting,
but will never be the Fire that will ever destroy your heart.
You take your lessons from her, an elixir full of love,
you fall over, you get straight back up again, put on your special gloves;
you’re made of her strong stuff you see and it is made from unbreakable
The TRUTH is Baby bear,
a Sea Leopard never changes it’s spots.
This is what you must remember, never forget,
not one jot.
I know it is hard to fathom, let it sink where it belongs.
The Strongest Kindest Polar Bear would forgive, learn and reflect,
but the Strongest Kindest Polar Bear, will impart to you now,
one must never ever forget.
Little Bear, you must get back in the Ocean
swim through all that flotsam too,
follow the other Polar Bears, your like-minded stalwart brethren
to pristine crystal water views.
Have no fear
you will make it through all that wash,
they are the ones you want swimming with you,
not the other shallow dross,
the ones stuck in a Zoo,
the ones caught in steel cages
standing in their own poo.
Follow the Sea Birds, the Albatross too,
for they are good luck to bring a
Mother HOME to you.
Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2017
Waking up that day with a silent scream
while feeling a sense of dread,
having dreamt about a sanitary landfill
and the living dead,
And later driving on the parkway
to my small crowded cafe,
ordered some jumbo shrimp
which I more or less ate,
Looking around noticed some
people who acted legally drunk,
as I tried to act naturally trying
not to stare at the slovenly punks,
I kinda sorta finished my meal
and out loud said good grief,
payed the exorbitant price and
went to the bathroom for some relief,
And feeling pretty ugly like an albatross,
while in there applied a little lipstick gloss;
and while leaving felt like I committed some crime,
hoping next time I'll notice the proper bathroom sign,
Then drove home and
parked in my driveway,
waved at my resident alien
across the street way,
Walking in my house I
found missing my sock,
my passive aggressive husband
between a hard place and a rock,
Showing me an exact estimate
which he got for our roof,
I said I got the same difference
which he clearly misunderstood,
And finally before retiring,
listened to some soft rock,
holding onto my genuine imitation
of my now found once lost sock.
Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2016
I sat in the kitchen, Mum stood at the sink,
the radio nattered away,
when all of a sudden she stopped washing the pots,
a Fleetwood Mac song started to play.
It was 'Albatross', “ We used to both dance to this,
a Slow Foxtrot, your Dad and me,
come on, grab my hand, have a go, learn the steps
it is easy to do, as you'll see ”.
We stood face to face, hand in hand and began,
as she walked through the steps like a pro,
I tried to pick up both the rhythm and steps
without crushing all of her toes.
We moved round the floor in a figure of eight,
by the end of the song not too bad,
and with a smile on her face, both eyes closed,
for a second,
she danced Slow Foxtrot with my late Dad.
Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2018
My love is like an Owl
Knowledgeable and deep and wise
My love is like the Raven
With magic behind its eyes
My love is like an Eagle
Its lineage crowned most high
My love is like a Lark
So swift and scarce and shy
My love is like the Peregrine
Soaring silent above the hill
My love is like the Dove
Spreading peace and good will
My love is like the Stork
Bringing life so fair and bright
My love is like the Sparrow
It’s intuition for life’s fading light
My love is like the Albatross
Floating high on fair winds
My love is like the Crow
The darkened portent that it sends
My love is like the fabled Tern
Crossing continents the status quo
My love is like the Penguin
With its tuxedo in the snow
My love is like the Mynah
Able to sing any song or say
My love is like the Rooster
Heralding each brand new day
But most of all my love is like the Lovebird
Her loving song oft heard
That perfect pair to my person
And the inspiration for these words
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010
Once again to my chagrin
This nightmare perseveres
And through the glass it comes to pass
To feed upon my fears
And it seems to slay my dreams
And in their stead leave blind
Mine own two eyes to that one prize
My soul doth seek to find
Still I pray that night gives way
And cures this circumstance
That captive holds my weary soul
Within it's darkened trance
And perhaps lay loose the straps
That bind me to this cross
And free from 'round my neck now bound
This curs'ed albatross
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010
On the ground as awkward’s be
Taken to heavenly flight
Albatross born seed single
When all dove birds fly
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2010
Femme Fatale By A Wishing Well
(In The Wastelands Of War)
Warm as breath on placid skin,
Soft as gentle summer rains,
Loud as natures angry clouds
That gather in ambushed lanes,
To confer with the wounded boys
Whose blood on artillery stains,
Etched with the faded epitaphs
Tattooed on her mortal remains.
Drop a pebble
In a wishing well,
If it splashes
Kiss and tell,
Touch the ripples
Of those who fell
Into the depths
That lead to hell.
Bright as a second harvest moon,
Hostile as the reapers command,
Silent as a wispy, mournful soul
Who wept upon a troubled land,
To kneel beside the enemies gun
Where heroic men should stand,
Saluting to the pipes and drums
Crushed in her seductive hand.
Shine a penny
Make a wish,
The waters swish,
With fickle hearts
And silver fish
That nibble souls
In the dark abyss.
Parched as a crimson sunset
Dark as burnt as ashen oak,
Lost as a wayward albatross
Who rode upon plumes of smoke,
To soar above the battlegrounds
Where fearless soldiers choke,
Thirsting for the tears of grief
Her odes to conflict will evoke.
Swim in pools
Of fatal love,
Where broken hearts
Have seen enough,
Where one embrace
Can lead to a shove,
To silently drown
In the sky above.
Sleepless as the lifeless limbs
Tormented on a captive throne,
Homeless as a wartime refugee
Who wanders the ruins alone,
To rummage through the corpses
Where kings have turned to stone,
Beside the statues of our heroes
Carved from her flesh and bone.
Drift with angels
Who sing so loud
Their choral dirge
For the baying crowd,
Who in their victory
Stand so proud,
Just to catch a cloud.
Black as a pond of liquid pitch,
Laying still as a stagnant mire,
Dead as a feild of burning poppies
That perished in the crossfire,
Where rows of scarlet bouquets
Hang limply on the twisted wire,
Woven into the crimson tunics
For her lustful eyes to admire.
Full of dread,
Ride the wind
That blows ahead,
Then go to sleep
On a feather bed,
Under the wings
Of the angels that fled.
Calm as a sultry midnight sky
Barren as the frozen sea,
Nervous as autumnal leaves
Clinging hopelessly to a tree,
To fall as mighty nations fall
Precariously existing as free,
Devoid of any reasonable doubt,
Only agreeing to disagree.
Then ravens flock
In stormy skies,
To peck her heart
And kiss her eyes,
To see a prophet
Old and wise,
Who tell of soldiers
With tearful eyes.
Ruthless as a spiders web
Perfumed with an orchids tear,
Reliant on the seasons end
To harvest the fruits of fear,
The ravages of war smell sweet
As friends and lovers appear,
Between the haunted vestibules
With the ghosts of yesteryear.
Look to the east,
Look to the west,
The archers arrows
Will pierce her chest,
All her dreams
Were laid to rest
Behind the ravens
Worshiped as non-specifics
Revered as an unknown thing,
Insidious as the fallen angel
Who sewed on her broken wing,
To fly between the gravestones
Just to lure the spirits to sing,
The hymns of desperate faiths
To which her heart will cling.
Lunge her sword
With a victory cry,
Who will love her
If all should die?
Make a wish,
Men will fall
From the empty sky.
Mysterious as a femme fatale,
Innocent as her poetic ink,
Destructive as her fickle rhymes
That tempt men to further think,
About those glorious victories
Which left humanity on the brink,
Drawn toward the bloody abyss
Where she, without pity, will drink.
Cups her ear,
There's a tolling bell
Where spirits dwell,
And a magic spell,
Are all just pebbles
In a wishing well.
Relentless as the wrath of time,
Enchanting, distorting eternity,
Perfect as the elusive metaphors
Which are too beautiful for me,
Like the conscientious objector
Who will sing "what will be will be".
To her infant and our ancestors
Dying on her bloodstained knee.
Recite to them your poem
Still, so much to tell,
Words on pebbles
Like soldiers fell,
What price is hell?
I tossed my last penny
Into your wishing well......
Copyright © Robert Horton | Year Posted 2015