Best Cruises Poems
Island Spirit
Palm trees are swaying island style
Within the gentle trade wind's flow,
As Egrets glide on salty air—
Then land where verdant grasses grow.
Breathe in sweet scents of tuberose
And let fine mist caress your face,
Dive deep into aqua waters—
Become enchanted with this place.
Let your eyes consume the beauty,
Let rhythmic music soothe your mind.
You'll feel the aloha spirit—
A kinder people you won't find.
Go hiking in hillside forests,
There are no bears or snakes that hide,
Just waterfalls you'll find waiting,
That flow toward the ocean side.
In the distance whales are breaching,
Humpbacks with little calves in tow.
They share waters with the dolphins,
And green sea turtles down below.
Can you hear paradise calling?
Whispering your name at sunrise,
To later bask on pearly sands.
Swaying hula hips at moonrise,
Coaxing you to join in the dance.
Exotic Mai Tai in your hands,
Sweet flower leis caress your neck,
Come investigate our islands,
And board on wild waves at surfside,
Cast your cold and cares to the breeze.
Sailing out on sunset cruises—
Take homeward bound warm memories.
6/20/20
Poem of the Day at Poetry Soup January 17, 2015
Along this foggy daybreak stroll,
I tread along the intersection
between Mabini Street and EDSA boulevard,
crossing number 25 Ortigas Road.
I breathe in the same grain
of Manila pollen and dust itching
my throat ; an acrid mound of city garbage
gathered by rain’s aftermath,
as if to beckon another tropical deluge;
and the loud chatter of headlines
from the newspaper stand pierces
the lobes with a burning jolt… a bundle
of political scoops and trade rumors
grating an otherwise neutral hour.
Few distances away, a flea market stand
vibrates with energy; pedestrians milling
around to check buko pies, plum bits,
and homemade guava jams… the exotic aromas
mixing with smoky flavor of dried bamboo leaves
on top of abaca wares; all these catering
to small pleasures of the low-middle working class.
Curving through Francis Square, a deluge
of movement initiates the 7 30 am rush…
buses, cars, and taxi- stands unload
a giant hive of wayfarers coming from
different points of the map; dragging
their skeletal frames like ticks of a clock.
Amidst a Friday hub, I stop to glance at the
towering statue of Mother Mary as a
cart-pusher slowly wanders by; his warm
smile bearing a contrast in a region
where the rat race of man is typical.
Surrounded by a collage of fragrant
eucalypti and mango trees, I breath in
a sense of delight likened to my
yard’s garden, this time, with heady scent.
The plump oaks at the front lobby
of Pharmo Industries are shedding
foliage, while a painted splash
of native robins cruises from laced twigs,
far beyond the clutter of newspaper stands,
market place, and taxi-stands.
My gaze casts inward to balance my thoughts,
as I begin my protracted stay at work.
Stand Contest of Debbie Guzzi
and Nathan's One of Your Best
by nette onclaud
On this ship I'll cruise the Scottish Isles
Coast on coast for many a mile
Rocks and sand, castles that are grand
Beauty that has been graced by many hands
Isle of Iona what a dream
Where the beautiful stone Abbey can be seen
Much of your beauty destroyed over the years
Hope of restoration somehow calms all fears
Isle of Arran twenty miles long and fifty-six around
Palm Trees grace your lush land
Divide by the Highland Boundary Fault that bounds
The north rugged and hilly with south gentle as sand
So many isles over seven hundred in all
One cruises on the imaginary ship all night long
From low lands, craggy hill and mountains tall
Each night I'll cruise the imagination with song
Contest:"Indulge Me Scottish Style"
Sponsor: Thvia Shetley
Written: June 10, 2024, For Eve Roper Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1/ The eldest son of a family immigrated to the United States.
2/ I'm a bibliophile. I deem myself artistic, empathetic, and spiritual.
3/ I have one son, two daughters, and seven grandchildren.
4/ -I am an advocate for the aesthetic value of one's natural surroundings, spouse, offspring, and grandchildren.
-Dancing flowers, the sound of azure waters on the shore, and the sight of cascades crashing against coral cliffs.
5/ Devote myself to the principles of generosity and tolerance for all.
6/ Handling disrespect and inequity is a chore I'm wary of.
7/ I love traveling globally, especially on cruises, and learning about cultures, traditions, art forms, and history.
8/I am a resident of San Jose, a vibrant city in California.
9/My last name - Sotto.
*****
What a joy it is to hear my kid's laughter return.
Dancing and bustling around me, I long to churn.
The sight of vacant seats at meals makes me grieve.
Unless, when there are happy events to heave!
FUN
Pleasure
Amusement
Beach days and dancing
Disneyland and cruises
Happy meals; friends at your side
“Laughter often comes with the ride.”
Sept. 14, 2020 for Joseph May's Pyramid Poetry Contest
Beneath the fury of sun
Wades a wobbly nun
Stomping on thorns
Her soul burnt and torn
Scars on her skin
Carried wounds engraved
Trust, her sin
So were snakes she once craved
She sucked and spitted
Bouts of venom from her blood
Tainted by flood
Of emotions she once knitted
Silence crept loud
In the woods still stern
Moon upturns
Summoning weeping clouds
Tears unfolden
The woven maze
Outside the haze,
Lies a fern pretty golden
Threads, now vines
Adored her bruises
Illusion's penchant to divine's
Were flood sailed cruises
Time passed by,
Venom decays
Has been watching the sky
The fern now sways
This is the good ship Dreamtime
And she sets sail every night
Weighing anchor for her cruise
With the fading of the light.
Her passengers are all dreaming
That they are all still awake
Suffering from insomnia and waiting
For the arrival of daybreak.
Her crew are all phantoms
Spirits of the sleeping brain
Watching carefully over
Those on this ethereal main.
There are screams and moans
And some of them quietly weep
As they journey through the night
None realising they are asleep.
She drops anchor to disembark
Just before breaking dawn
Transporting the travellers home
To their own bed early each morn.
Where they awake exhausted
For each of them still think
All through that long long night
They’ve not slept a single wink.
The good ship Dreamtime then
Fades quietly from their sight
Until the next dusk when She’ll
Reappear to cruise another night.
Every night She cruises
Answering their call
And no matter how many ask
She accommodates them all.
She is the good ship Dreamtime
Who, in her own special way,
Helps sleeping insomniacs turn
Each sleepless night into day.
He’s the Politician’s politician
Amazing all with the ease
He cruises through public life
Somehow avoiding all the sleaze.
It seems he’s Teflon coated
Pulling all the dirty tricks
Yet when it comes to blame
No accusation ever sticks.
Loud voiced and abusive
He slides easily through life
And only a naïve fool would
Trust him anywhere near his wife.
With his quick release zipper
And his foul arrogant way
He’s your modern party leader
Reflecting the morals of today.
He’s the maker of the rules
But thinks it rather absurd
Few realise they’re not for him
But just for the common herd.
So, all stand to attention
And wave your Union Flags
While he behind the scenes
Fills his bulging money bags.
It’s the public double standards
He supposedly really hates
While not far behind the scene he
Shovels cash out to his mates.
He’s the Politician’s politician
Whose luck never seems to fail
When in any just society he’d
Be languishing long term in jail.
It's about taking one day at a time
Feel the air, summertime or wintertime
Righteousness and heavenly glory
not in humiliation, shame or orgies
Cruises to the Caribbean are not my choice
in harmony with nature all will rejoice
For a believer, there is nothing that disturbs
God's word is true because the promises keep their word
Lovely sanctuary with sweeping sea views
a wonderful delight and beautiful blues
Human thoughts and words about spiritual wandering
Let's encourage each other, the time has come for pondering
20/08/2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Sanctuary Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
3rd place in the contest
There is no place as better as home
not even heaven is as better as home
He strolled aimlessly in the streets of Amsterdam,
deep in reverie and gnashing his teeth.
Here, he had come for greener pastures
and gold,he had hoarded.
He lives in affluence, in destitude of nothing.
But lurking somewhere in his heart is a longing,
a longing that cannot be satisfied there,
A longing for home.
To yaounde because of an obligation
that is important for my education,
I embarked.
Everything cruises well for me but for one thing;
A longing for home.
A home is a haven more that heaven
She is the mother to all orphans
a place to relieve you of your solitude
it is an antidote to loneliness and homesickness
On several occasions, from Amsterdam he had called,
calling to tell me of his one unhappiness.
‘MICHAEL, I MISS HOME’
So really, there is no place as better as home,
NOT EVEN HEAVEN
Day has sunk and the old fisherman, like a well-trained athlete, rows his rugged boat.
Defying starry night's turbulent waves,
It cruises seaward, smooth and swift, like an agile proud fish.
Then, into his net a shooting star drops; hauls he a thousand delicate, bright starfish.
Guided by remaining stars, he comes home with a boatful
Of glimmering soft, fleshy crystals of hope to his daughter's eager waving
At the murky, starless bay. Her voice rushes out in tidal sound-waves.
She puts a finger in, fishing
One live hope, stellar and warm, out of what used to be a champion's sailboat.
Rocking the boat and making waves, their laughter splashes like a floundering fat fish.
(Form: loose tritina)
Pity her as she cried
On the floor, ragged, she lied
She's covered with odd bruises
And hell things on mind cruises
She was there left alone
Mourning for help at home.
Hungry and parched she was,
Hoping someone would pass
“Click! Click!”, the door knob sounds
At last someone’s around.
Who’s there? Who could that be?
At last! She will be free!
But it widened her eyes
Scared and again she cried
‘Twas a man who appeared
Went to her and she feared.
He touched her hair and said
“Hush! Hush! Just go to bed
Stay quite, don’t be a heck!”
And kissed her on the neck.
Poor girl, she just abide
To the man whom she feared
“Why is he doing this?
I’m his daughter, why’s this?”
In the bedroom they were;
Father started kissing her.
Poor lil girl can’t defy
If she speak up, she’ll die.
“Oh my Lord, please help me,
I can’t take it, save me.”
Said her mind as tears flowed
Grieving in pain; she moaned.
Then suddenly she smiled
From what she heard outside.
A sudden hope in her eyes gleamed
From something she perceived.
She heard her mother’s voice
"I'll be saved" she rejoiced
“A miracle for me
Lord replied to my plea.”
And the door opened
Mother saw what happened
Shocked and startled she was
Then screamed for help, at last!
Mother bellowed and slapped him
Outraged and said to him
“She is your daughter!
Why did you rape her?”
Then neighbors came
Naked -- poor girl was ashamed
Dazed and shaken they were
Staring at poor girl and her father.
Then two cops came along
Grabbed the father for his wrong
He panicked and dreaded
Denied all he acted
Livid and offended
Lil girl stood and stated
“Oh yes, that man raped me,
Not just once but many times.”
Then her father uttered
“My dish is my daughter.
I’m the one who made her,
So I should also taste her.”
Wretched from what she heard
She spoke not a single word
Woeful and quite, she sniveled
Suddenly collapsed and fell
At last poor girl’s now free
From nightmare and agony
Yes she has a father
But she’s his dish not his daughter.
Like an endless curve I have reached the bend
Of my destiny to an atmosphere,
Above the horizon, my trails ascend.
Creatures of water swerving their tails,
Galleons roll, cruises of Atlantis
Along the foams, brave the olden fables.
The evening cloudline, glimmering so bright,
My final pilgrimage, the blackest sea;
To the ledge of the isle, a glorious light.
In episodes, I have seen the view of life,
A seafarer hunted by brazen tides,
Crossing again on the crest that abides.
Peaceful wavelets daring my calm inside,
Confronting the ocean of a dark ride.
The Islands Contest
courtesy of Anthony Slausen
N.Arana's entry
comes
wistful,
in a gloss
of frothy drifts
she cruises near bends...
old river dressed in leaves
peach-gold like October tides.
And ripples splash through a varnished
light, crests twirling on pale twigs,wildbuds;
flaming river’s last glide …. prelude to snow.
9/25/2015
For Love of October
Andrea Dietrich's Contest
Theme; River/lake in October
THIS WOMAN I AM
WRITTEN BY NJIDEKA
IKERIONWU
This woman I am
Stops me at’imes
It crooks my cruises
And storms my sails
Cuts my journeys short
And cows my instincts
Shrinks my time at
library
It edits my vocabularies
Most times
It dumbs my mouth
And numbs my nerves
Subdues actions inside
me
Just to evade that
question
That shy’s and freezes
my actions
Don’t you know you are
woman?
Yet I want to come and
come back again
As the woman I am
Being under
Savouring the joys of
womanhood
Always happening
inside me
The sweetness of
receiving ends
Enjoying the sucks of
my babies
Cite me right in this
verse
A bit shy now
This woman I am