Best Periscope Poems
One character I used to like a lot
was skinny, bald, and not at all refined.
yet he was superhuman when he fought
and also had a keen detective’s mind.
He had a pipe, and this ingenious bloke
would use it as a torch or periscope.
In fact, he rarely used that pipe to smoke!
With goons and Bluto he would always cope
by using it to suck a spinach can!
His forearms bulged, for he got strong that way.
Strong to the “finich,” was this sailor man
from eating spinach when he saved the day!
To Olive Oyl and Swee’pea he stayed true -
*Pupeye, Pipeye, Peepeye, and Poopeye too!
Written 5/20.2015 for the Cartoon Character Contest of Shadow Hamilton
* The four nephews of Popeye who resembled little Mini-Me’s of Popeye.
Categories:
periscope, character,
Form:
Sonnet
Resonating magnificent resplendencies of such rhapsodies
Resonant, amid this glowing renaissance of her resurrection....
Lost opaque dreams, awakening to find these vibrancies of colours
As if van Gogh himself had been summoned through this periscope of visions
Brilliant brushings within passions poured from such viles of rebirths
Castings of callings, transposed from atop this vestiges love laced canvas
Splashings, of spheres now captured, within a concerto's reprise
A Swans Song....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
{Under Construction}
Categories:
periscope, love
Form:
Luminous
lights appear
in my long dreams,
as my soul, so it seems, holds high
a periscope
for my heart and mind to see
every surrounding scene
beyond the heavy, seamed quilt of history
laid over my long sleep,
my long night — as deeply
black as the pupils of my eyes
mirroring a moonless, starless mid-night;
yet my soul floats
within this ever-amassing eternity —
wherein gleams an airglow for some sight
of the softly glistening atmosphere’s heights…
arising
heavenward
and shimmering
~ while here within me
longings emanate
(for a communion with God
and a complete life)
appearing luminous and divinely embossed
— comprising my long, impassioned prayers
— all into making
the long necklace
of gold-linked
wishes and psalmed gratitdes
I kneel to sing
on these long nights
before my long sleeping…
Categories:
periscope, dream, environment, god, life,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Who’s the seeker seeking,
powers for mind-body
and to what end, hermit,
for that is not the way
to reach heaven’s summit.
Who’s the seeker seeking,
gift of astral travel,
of mentioned in folklore,
losing God-search focus,
since our heart craves for more.
Who’s the seeker seeking,
to open the third eye
for periscope vision,
when between head and heart,
there’s a fatal scission.
Who’s the seeker seeking,
whilst yet in delusion;
love bereft awareness,
insipid and barren,
till entwined with oneness.
20-June-2022
Categories:
periscope, spiritual,
Form:
Monchielle Stanza
a rattler flicking its
split tongue...gathering
chemical messengers~ Prairie Dog
without a prayer
vulture, periscope downward
navigates a granulate sea,
follows the wavering flow of tracks~
just over a grilling crest his meal
falls, pauses and pauses and pauses
he waits a bit longer on the sun, dinner
sun-baked and organic
Categories:
periscope, dark, death, fate, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
Dragon found a conspiracy tabloid in the Grocery store the other day.
Now. He believed every crazy thing that rag, had to state and to say.
So I told him those things were made up to sell papers, and ‘not real news’.
And he should research every thing, before deciding, what is really true.
First, he went onto the internet, where he said, everything is absolutely true.
Where I told him anyone could write anything, that is absolutely, totally askew.
Next he went to the newspaper, where I told him it’s all politically flawed.
Even my CNN, though not all of it, at least, not the parts, I like most of all.
This slowly became: Believe none of what you hear, and only half of what you see.
So he showed me the tabloid, and I was amazed at what I truly, did see, to be!
Yep, we were on the front page “Where the World meets Dragons and Trolls”.
That, I couldn't explain away, especially, since it, suddenly, froze my little brain.
They had gone and given me, my dreamed upon, 5 minutes of illustrious Fame.
So I read the article carefully, then laughed, until I finally had to come up for air.
It said we had a WWII submarine in Troll Lake, manned by turtles with green hair.
It said our turtles are under cover agents, ready, to attack as terrorists, from our lair.
Suddenly, a periscope came out of the water, and then it turned directly at me! UGH!
Lord of mercy! Is all I could say? I was speechless, as Dragon looked so smug.
I believe in Dragons... but not turtles with green hair, or a little conspiracy tabloid?
He got me there! As the turtles came ashore, in perfect formation, I became annoyed.
Did the government really think we were terrorists, and up to no good? I did say!
Well, the turtles said no, and by the way, they’d bought the submarine on Ebay.
They’d seen an article on us, and it just looked like a fun place to come stay.
They're from up Australia way, and the green is algae used as camouflage, there.
About the time I think it’s weird enough, already, here… Along comes something else…
So I can only guess… What’s coming soon…so perhaps I should say?
Instead of what’s going on here, with us…What’s new with you, today?
Oh, and have a stress free day.
Categories:
periscope, adventure, fantasy, fun, funny,
Form:
Light Verse
There is a submarine periscope
that's staring intently. Let us hope
that our frail little boat's
got aboard stuff that floats.
All I have is this Soap-on-a-Rope.
Categories:
periscope, adventure,
Form:
Limerick
More than twelve hundred souls
Meet their watery grave.
German U-boat patrols
Spark a fatal shockwave.
This echo of the past
Resounds throughout history.
Rousing war unsurpassed,
Deadly shroud of mystery.
The empire aids Cunard,
Loaning millions in pounds.
Lord Inverclyde toils hard
On deceptions unsound.
They hide admiralty
Within their merchant fleet,
And in reality
War barons plot deceit.
Famed cruiser so agile
Brings home the Blue Riband.
Propellers prove fragile,
New designs would respond.
While retooling the craft,
Gun mountings are installed.
Hidden away most daft
Down where the ropes are hauled.
However they decide
To switch their new design.
Large cargo holds shall hide
Munitions in her spine.
War with Germany starts
With land mines and blockades.
America builds parts
While Britain launches raids.
The Isles become war zones
With no sure passage back.
Submarines would throw stones
To sink the Union Jack.
So Daniel Dow protests
This British smuggling ring.
The prior chief suggests
Attacks these loads will bring.
A German message warns:
"Huge risk at British sea!
If allied flags adorn,
They'll be hacked to debris!"
Captain Turner is picked
To lead the merchant ship.
"Speed shall avoid conflict
On this momentous trip."
Voyage two hundred-one
Departs Pier 54
Under a watchful sun,
Fresh ammo in her store.
Steaming toward Fastnet Rock,
Bowler Bill seeks advice.
Three ships are sunk in shock,
Warnings are confirmed twice.
Posting double look-outs,
They ready the lifeboats.
Bill secures a black out
While taking careful notes.
Thirty miles from Cape Clear,
The vessel enters fog.
Weather thwarts so severe
The captain slows their slog.
The periscope spots them
As orders are passed down.
One button shall condemn,
Destruction all around.
The Old Head of Kinsale
Watches the missile glide.
The bomb shreds to assail
Those weapons stowed inside.
Categories:
periscope, history, warwar, war,
Form:
Ballad
Tiny Window to the World
Marooned in the consuming gloom
Cut away from escape or from egress
Between me and the Wild World
Ly a tiny window
Through which I espy the world
By an open vista to teeming life
Sprawling across rolling mountains
And roiling waves of the sea.
Between me and the World
Is a Small Window
That paints and bestows life’s rupture
Window that avails treasures of nature
A small window never opened
Through which diversity of life unfold;
Happy people, sad people, mad people....
A tiny window that never let go
Abundantly giving a whiff of stirring colour
Dancing or twisting in wanton glee!
A tiny window
that never shuts or darken
Yet, forever shut me in its fold, its hold
Captivating with a kaleidoscope of races
Internalising me to its whim;
Not to look in one direction always....
To admire life beyond the gloom
To look beyond the tiny window
Onto the rhapsody of His Artifice
Pouring through the inspiring panorama,
To write with verve and gusto
To celebrate creation with rupture
To reclaim lost dignity with frenzy.
A tiny window,
so miniscule and so minute,
Through which no finger can caress the air
To catch a breeze blowing lackadaisical
To the dry sea and the frigid Equator!
Window that must let go of my lust
And quell the conflagration on the loin
A tiny window that sees not itself
That permanently keeps me in its hold.
That which, if you take it away,
You abduct me away into the darkness
To grope in futility and verdant folly.
Tiny window
Like a telescope drawing creation nigh
Or periscope giving form to tiny pestilent;
Life curling, springing and twirling
In unique idiosyncrasies of its nature;
Man attempting to play flagella’
By mutilations, mutations, castrations
Women and botox and lipstick and all....
Window that makes one want to close
Yet, at times, it makes you a peeping Tom!
This tiny Window, I fancy heard it say:
“Don’t close the window or curtain it
“For Africa speaks outside....”
That Tiny Window is my Eye!
08th Oct’ 2013
Categories:
periscope,
Form:
Verse
I was trapped
and bemused
feeling sad
and confused
a subatomic particle
lost into a deep black hole
and suddenly
you stuck in your magic telescope
and I opened up
like a flower
I shot out like a periscope
a mystical kaleidoscope
like a solar flare
without a care
my heart exploded into a supernova
and then,
I woke up in your constellation
a phantasmagorical revelation
so ecstatic
and divine
orgasmic
and sublime
I'm staying here forever,
until the end of time.
Categories:
periscope, allegory, devotion, fantasy, girlfriend-boyfriend,
Form:
Prose Poetry
ATLANTIS RISES
After 7000 years old Atlantis alluva sudden come up yesterday
Popped up – skinny end first – like a cork
No time ta think o’ displaced water tidal waves all that stuff
Shot up not a periscope o’ warnin’ ner nothin’
Saucer strip in plain sight
Climbed so many miles in the sky a drippin’ like mad
And belly-flopped right where they said it useta be
Scared hell outa 10,000 boy scouts at Disney World
Gotta be one o’ tha best danged things ever happened to the east
coast what with the shows all movin’ ta Californee.
OLD ATLANTIS
THERE SHE FLOATS
THERE SHE BE BOY
THAR SHE BLOWS!
They dispatched a team o’ guys from Wood’s Hole right away
Claimed her right away fer the old U S of A
That Plato he weren’t no dumbbell
He knew
Oughta eerect a statchew right on Poseidon’s front lawn in front o’
the Grand Canal.
I didn’t see all this ya know
Onlyest seen what’s in the mornin’ paper
Front page pitchers o’ them muddy mountains and a tanker use ta
be sittin’ on the ocean floor.
Well golldang! They’re gonna put up a big mewseeum so’s as
folks kin git a good look so’s they kin touch all that crust
stuff.
What with the ice caps a meltin who knows folks may be
movin back to old Atlantis
Wouldn’t ya know it now folks is a talkin’ bout a place called
Mu
I tell ya…………………………………..
Categories:
periscope, funny, old, old,
Form:
Narrative
I slither through the deep forest
across a mystical scene collecting remains
from last evening’s venture : a shiny ligure,
china teapot, faded locket, and scraps
of letters on a trail of past impressions.
By now, periscope of dawn’s glitter
enlarges its serene movements
as light’s thick veil blinds my vision
on a quadrivial of glossed field ,encircling
my reality fragile and calm amidst balmy scent
of air entering my veins in gradual awareness.
In that clasp of silence purely unbelievable
reservoir of breath refills tired bosoms;
and the forest stands still in its auburn robe
waiting for clouds to form pathways
before the sun returns me back home.
Any Subject Contest of Shadow Hamilton
by nette onclaud
11 jul 2013
Categories:
periscope, life, peace,
Form:
Free verse
The U-boat left the mouth of the French harbour
Under cover of darkness for these German Navy martyrs
To the North Atlantic they went to sink Allied shipping their bent
Their plan was to cut Britain's supply line of shipping without lament
But just lately the tide had changed and others had not returned
Posted on the notice boards their fate was on eternal patrol not yearned
It took two days to sail to their patrol station in the shipping lanes
From the United States to Britain in the life line for the British to sustain
Them in their struggle against the Nazi aggressor in the Second World War battle
On this day it was different when the Canadian Corvette chasing them in their mettle
They dived down to escape the hunting as the depth charges exploded around
Until one exploded near the hull of the submarine sending it to the bottom ground
So the U-boat was lost with all of its hands who were in the crew
And they had not been able to radio their base regarding their fate too
The submarine was marked as now on eternal patrol in the North Atlantic
With the families of the crew waiting for word of them made them frantic
The captain was at the periscope still looking around for targets for them
And the crew continued on with no thought of death or the cruise having an end.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Categories:
periscope, war, world war ii,
Form:
Ballad
DARK KISS
His reservoir of confidence was dry
Her lingering kiss had tasted darker than her eye
In unbelief he sought the mystic moon now full--
Bereft he broached the ancient quadrivial
Clutching tight his mother’s smooth ligure
Canting low the precious periscope --with heart pure
He fought the spread of blackness in his soul.
Victoria Anderson-Throop
7/24/2013
Categories:
periscope, betrayal, evil,
Form:
Couplet
It seems like only yesterday
I was young and climbing trees
Running through the forest
Scraping arms and knees
Playing tag or hide and seek
Hop-scotch or skipping rope
Making a bow and arrow
Building a periscope
Playing ball on the local lot
Wishing upon a star
Swinging on a hanging vine
Stealing from the cookie jar
Tossing a ball against a wall
Making figures out of clay
Raiding the local apple trees
Jumping in a pile of hay
Playing cowboys and indians
Saturday morning cartoons
Running around like hooligans
Acting like silly baboons
Memories all come flooding back
As I sit here and reminisce
Of halcyon days way back when
Filled with pure happiness
© Jack Ellison 2012
Categories:
periscope, life, memory,
Form:
Quatrain