Best Marco Polo Poems


Premium Member Confessions In Her Confidence -

I know where she prays within the necessity of nightfall
inside the Poets' Pantheon, an isolated Idol
they all came, close as envy can to care,
flowers and jewels from all the conquered territories
laid quietly at her toes,
Marco Polo would recognize her as exotic medicine
travel for centuries to have a single dose,
break your heart as a spoil of war that words could justify,
Leonardo slave to invent new paints for her grin of grace,
Janis Joplin shake out lyrics of how nobody could deny her dreams
without consequence of catastrophe,
demolish you with an ever deepening desire,

she needed a man that could hold the heights of her heaven,
a man capable not of sacrafice for a taste of her starlight
but one offering partnership in the placement of ******'s origin
giving forbidden sensation to her solar system,
so accustom to receiving love from the enamoured
amour as a dialect was nearly extinct in her essence,
a Goddess so tired of inspiring, so exhausted, almost bled out,
an Olympiean she wanted, an equal for Eternity,
soon worship would do no more for her,
she needed a man willing to receive her sacrafice,
able to take on her needs,
oh the beauties she may lay in his arms -

J.A.B.  This poem has been made for Poet Destroyer's 
100 % Nature Contest - 2013
Categories: marco polo, nature,
Form: Epic

' Raul Moreno, Poet - Sensei ... ' 56th Senryu

‘ Raul Moreno, Poet- Sen•sei … ’   56th  Senryu


   Like Marco Polo
Haiku Master, Moreno
Explores Nature’s Show


From Magnanimous Me (he! he!)  (LOL)
             Love Your Poetry, 
        Your Poet-Pal, MoonBee
Categories: marco polo, adventure, dedication, friendship, introspection,
Form: Senryu

Premium Member Like A Monsoon Rain

If someone handed you a box with everything in it that you had ever lost
what is the first thing you would look for? 


Holiest of things that I could never recapture
like the feel of dad's hand in mine 
on a warm summer day when all the world was 
time ...

A most sacred memory wrapped in tissue 
settled deep inside a box safely locked
  
Underneath my bed a tarnished locket   
that wasn't even mine...

The child within me, the one that got away 
nineteen and gone too soon 

A monsoon rain that September remembers 
soaked and filled with longing,

The face of youth 
my brother's Marco Polo voice 
inside a chlorinated pool      
just before he died
Categories: marco polo, analogy, brother,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


My Pet Dragon

If dragons were real asked my son
Would I be able to keep one?
He could stay with me up in my room
Saturday morning we'll both watch cartoons
I could take him with me to school
And play Marco Polo in the pool
But what would you feed him asked I?
He'd need to fly high in the sky
If you catch one they get pretty mean
Dragons live in our wildest dreams.
Categories: marco polo, child, fantasy, father son,
Form: Light Verse

Another Man's Treasure

"Another Man’s Treasure"



Jetsam tumbles
broken doorbells
no one
answers
anymore

ironing boards 
pressing to imprint
something of significance
a life, your life
droll and predictable

it all sinks 
to the bottom 
of a bad dream
with yesterday’s 
stale tears

sharp heels
clicking on a parquet floor
like knives ripping words
jagged scratches on old wallpaper
like a warning thrown at a wall

Sundry feelings furry 
ageing inevitable 
intimate moments blurry 
moulding green against a new life
you prophesy diamond clean

their part in your life 
half-state now
pill swallowed
like a bad dream 
forgotten

and 

there you sit and twirl
grinning from ear-to-ear
on your swivelling black leather chair
before a glowing screen
lighthouse revolver ready

evolving 
glowing prisms adrift
blue ribbons of seaweed green
tangled in your wide Sargasso Sea
morse code blinking reverie

lost memories pleasantly drowned
like a murderess you pin them down 
then, the tight grasp of possibilities
rise to face the horizon 
eventually, they are Marco Polo found

and 

there you are
midpoint 
hovering
poised
waiting 

Unconditional
Singular 
One man’s trash

Another Man’s Treasure 


(LadyLabyrinth/2020)



"Wonders of the Deep" / Chemical Brothers
https://youtu.be/xHEgT--jJLk
Categories: marco polo, baptism, romance, symbolism,
Form: Free verse

Voyages of An Extraordinary Man

He was born in Genoa,
and his mother was Susanna;
and he set sail at the age of fourteen,
to begin a new exploration age!
His father Domenico
gave him inspiration and courage...
while his three brothers:  Giacomo,
Bartolomeo and Giovanni ventured with him
on his long and dangerous voyages,
and accused of many atrocities...
they were sent back to Spain in chains!
A visionary with an extraordinary man's ego, 
followed in the footsteps of Marco Polo...
and in his final days, he died a disappointed man!
Categories: marco polo, anniversary, death, family, father,
Form: Italian Sonnet


Premium Member If You Pull a Long Face - Part Xxxi

IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXXI

IF you pull a long lagging-behind face
You deserve your copycat status in more than one way
Marco Polo brought back cracker-power not to powder face
Noble Savage Injuns and Indians shuddered and gave way

Now if you pull a long WOG face
Aping the Colonial Master in every bourgeois way
No use straddling neck feet dangling front of face
Giant still supports the Dwarf while striding away

If you still will pull that long sullen " heathen " face
Thinking how easy the tidal wave you'd turn back anyway
Vasco's galleons rained broadside thunder balls on village place
While your loin-clothed turbaned ancestors scurried in fear

If you then pull your long self-satisfied face
At your hosts' Midas touch riding main fleets of Raleigh
To stud Crown lapis lazuli rubies opal spice and maize
Needs he as much now you to beg fawn and yeah-say

If you must then pull your long infra-dig face
Hankering after titles prizes rubbing shoulders in hallowed hallway
Colonial caste of mind gives exacting the Shylock pound of flesh
Smites your integrity dignity breaks spirit robs merits if " I YOU DARE ! " say

© T. Wignesan - Paris, February 8, 2019
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: marco polo, anti bullying, cinco de
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Marco Polo

Marco! Marco! He said
No polo, just the voices inside his head
Marco! Marco! That one person said
And asked, “why aren’t you dead?”
Categories: marco polo, anxiety, death, depression, farewell,
Form:

Castles In the Sand

Back when we were kids we'd play duck duck goose
When her turn came around it always me she would choose
I'd bust open pinatas and pin the donkeys tail
I would often tease her because she'd always fail
We played a lot of hide and seek and didn't make a peep
I never gave her hiding spot away, for her any secret I would keep
I let her win in tug of war
For her my heart sure did soar
During games of tag your it she would run fast but my heart was racing faster
She didn't know it then but she was secretly my puppet master
We arm wrestled and I loved holding her hand in mine
Like electricity sending shivers up and down my spine
Playing capture the flag I'd always pick her for my team
Honestly she wasn't very good at it but I couldn't help myself as it was about her I'd always dream
I loved that whole summer we played Marco Polo
By the end of it I knew I didn't want to fly solo
We played a random game of truth or dare
I kissed a blonde haired blue eyed girl for which my heart didn't care
Ever since we played that game of twister
I wonder if she realized I longed to have kissed her
During bowling she would knock down close to every pin
I didn't mind that she would always win
She wasn't a cheerleader but was into gymnastics
Yet she cheered for me at all of my football games and that was fantastic
I was into hockey and she enjoyed figure skating
It was never a debate for her I didn't mind waiting
Luck happened upon me as it landed on her when we played spin the bottle
We didn't stop there, we didn't let off the throttle
Playing strip poker as adults I'm sure blessed with my hand
Who knew a love like this would become of building castles in the sand
Categories: marco polo, childhood, crush, cute love,
Form: Rhyme

By Blue Bell's Creek

At the footbridge back in the mid-eighties is where I grew to know the beauty of all things life had to offer. There I was, only six years old. Young enough to get in trouble yet old enough to know better.

Mother Nature had led a creek under the footbridge,
it carried such a flow during the dog days of summer,
our family held such an honorable and deep heritage,
my father was an intense determined morning runner.

He would run to and fro and back and forth to the cabin,
I would watch while catching frogs and white butterflies,
little Joey would always make believe a ship, him as captain,
and big sister me would always make sure to supervise.

We’d have potato races with our cousins on my mom’s side,
uncomfortable burlap sac’s rubbing up against our body, 
my friend JoAnne would always act like a baby and hide,
I would hear nothing but barking all day from our dog Doddie.

We’d barbecue cod that was caught down by Blue Bell’s River,
mama would always simmer her wonderful green beans,
even after swimming in the heat I always got out with a shiver,
we loved playing Marco Polo with what seemed to be unfair teams.

Childhood memories relinquish good times to always remember,
family seems to always bring out the best in every one,
I mostly hated when time passed and it would be September,
those days by the footbridge were so remarkably fun.


Date Written: July 25, 2016
Categories: marco polo, childhood, family, nature,
Form: Rhyme

Gemstones

Stones in life strong like stones,
As a weapon,
As a tool,
Shelter over the heads of souls,
Even beyond the Era of stones,
Stones in plenty and in varieties,
Gems,stones,Gemstones,
Rare,durable,colored,long life and beauty,
Weighed and valued in dots and drops,
A dream for the poor,
A desire for the rich,
Crowns without Gems not a King,not a Queen,
Taj Mahal minus Gems not a world wonder,
Ceylon turned Sri Lanka known Island of Gems,
Marco Polo toured and admired,
The Portuguese,The Dutch,The British much cared,
All stones are not Gems,all Gems are not stones,
In stones Gems,
In people some like Gems!
Categories: marco polo, identity, judgement, life,
Form: Light Verse

My Dream Vacation: Venice

I'd like to see Venice,
the city of eternal peace
to which poets and painters flock;
the sunset' hues are impressive at dusk.  


I'd like to ride in a gondola,
and admire La Serenissima
while the venetian gondolier sings a familiar song
that everybody loves...row gentler as you sing!


I'd like to join the Venice Carnival, and be somebody's handsome groom,
on the most eerie night, when there's a crowd in the Marco Polo ballroom...
in the palace everybody wears a vague mask and a bizarre costume;
be aware of the friendly ones who, with charm, have the intention to lure.


I'd like to watch the luminiscent moon 
rise over the Dome of Saint Mark's Basilica at night;
and for once without a visible, depressing spot...
it should smile at me while I croon.


I'd like to embrace that lovely woman
with eyes as green as the grass of a meadow;
and will she recognize me and forgive me again,
or sadly remain a broken-winged sparrow?


I'd like to bask in the warm sunshine
as the huge Adriatic sky becomes a real light blue;
and under Il Ponte dei Respiri I will glide
in that gondola as she lies next to me with a smile so true. 


Translation: La Serenissima ( The Most Serene ),
Il Ponte dei Respiri ( Bridge Of Sighs ).

Entered in Linda-Marie Bariana's contest,
" Viva Vacation "
Categories: marco polo, fantasy, girlfriend-boyfriend, happiness, history,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Eating Spaghetti With Chopsticks

The most amazing of culinary tricks
would be to eat spaghetti with chopsticks.
A pair of chopsticks you will never see
if you go to any table in Italy.
Marco Polo was not perspicacious enough to see
his contribution to western culture’s popularity.
When using chopsticks, you won’t get much sauce.
Unfortunately, there would be much of a loss.
A fork and spoon would appear a strange thing
at the dinner table in Shanghai or Beijing.
Categories: marco polo, adventure, food, , western,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Nocturnal Rhapsody

Without belching
or hiccupping misty smoke,
the waiting sea
swallowed the setting sun;
up popped the bright
mirror-ball moon. 

The quiet sky sprinkled its self
with twinkling stars
as the restless wind whistled
through the terrestrial nightshades.

A  colony of fireflies
played blinking Marco Polo
as a pair of stoic owls,
with bulging eyes,
kept nocturnal watch
over the orchestrated night.
Categories: marco polo, beauty, metaphor, moon, night,
Form: Prose Poetry

Ice Cream

A girl runs out yelling” ice cream”
 For the colorful truck to wait
As she leaves the window
And hurriedly runs out the gate

The beautiful music that plays
All the kids knows it so well
So he always stock up the flavors
That he knows will always sell

He got vanilla, chocolate
Strawberry, and mash mellow
Cherry, coffee and rocky road
Fudge ripple, coconut pine apple

Every one love ice cream
It don’t matter who they are
If they cutting sugar cane
Or are a famous superstar

Bet there is some ice cream
 In everyone fridge at homes
And I’m sure in the cupboard
 Have some ice cream cones

It has so many different flavors
That you could chose from
But it don’t matter to me
Just as long as you give me some

The origin of ice cream
Goes back to china 4th century
When they discover crush fruits
And ice was very tasty

Then they add buffalo milk
And rice mixture boil very slow
Then they keep it frozen 
By packing it in the snow

 Marco polo taste it in china
So he ask for the recipe
Then when he comes back
Start to make it in Italy

But I really not good at history
So don’t know the origin for sure
But when my bowl gets empty
You know I asking for more

In Trinidad we have bee’s ice cream
 The best in the whole world
When we go by Julie house
We will say bring ice cream for us girl

Legends says that bees ice cream
Cause a relationship so end
When a guy eat all the ice cream
And didn’t leave none for his girlfriend

And when she gone in the fridge
He run and hiding like a mouse
When she see he eats all the ice cream
She kicks him out of the house

Yes ice cream is love by everyone
Old, young, and small
When coming to my ice cream
I not sharing none at all
Categories: marco polo, funny, growing up, happiness,
Form: Light Verse
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