Thin veil of raindrops,
splattering.
Liquefied pellets
falling to the ground.
Welcomed into the parched land
with open arms.
Raindrops dripping down from
eaves and rooftops above,
tap-dancing in the puddles,
waltzing on the corrugated metal roofs.
Sliding on the smooth green leaves
falling gracefully; like little ballerinas.
Bringing the color back
to the wan faces of the
drooping plants.
Giving the earth
a new coat of paint,
warm, vibrant colors surfacing.
Faces upturned,
tongues out-stretched.
Little children out to play in the rain.
Splashing in puddles,
setting little paper sailboats
off on expeditions to distant lands.
Farmers smiling
watching the rain
bring life back to their crops.
Relief etched on their faces,
they'll survive another year.
the fields are alive again.
Rain.
Hope from the heavens
falling gently onto the earth,
fueling our hopes and dreams;
watering our deadened hearts,
answering our prayers.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter
hope rains down.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter
Today at the mall, I seen a woman wearing a shirt saying Black is beautiful, I thought I never see any white shirts with slogans.
I wondered what kind of slogans would go with white, I thought white is wonderful, or white is nice, or white is bright.
Today at the mall, I seen a lot of families, they all looked so happy, and I thought life must be going great.
The mall has many awesome things, it has stores, it has people, it has food, it has entertainment, it has options to grow and display all the current things we like to purchase.
The mall is growing, it had so many possibility’s, many I envision as I shop, and look forward to all my shopping expeditions.
Thank you mall for all you sell, you make many of us feel so swell with all of our days in the mall.
Life is a mystical muse inspiring
never ending creation
Creating gives life to ideas that lay
dormant in the mind
When this is done we open doors that
can never be closed
The mind is like a beautiful budding rose
ready to bloom
Like a mansion with many rooms there's
plenty of room for its clothes
Expansion leads to expeditions within self
that offer growth
To expedite this process you'll need to
grow & open up
Bloom like the flower you are to journey
on despite the thorns
& bumps in the road
Planting seeds that you wish to see
come to fruition
is the only way to grow
This is a great way to go though
it's a path
less traveled
The road to self-realization
is one that's
walked alone
In your own zone is where you'll
find the knowledge
that you seek
You're an open book & every time
you open your
eyes you take a peek
You are the question & answer so
to speak
but you must
know what to ask
This life is the best of all teachers
& you're in
a never ending class
I thought, like a net unknotted, puzzles would be solved.
With the question, 'Who am I? What's the purpose of my life?
I was wrong. Like the palbeu, no one knew where knots revolved.
Each question, like thorns midst blooms, had anxiety and strife.
Like winter after fall, when war ends, roguery begins.
Uncertainty, like unexpected earthquakes, surfaces.
Emptiness and self-contamination rise like past sins.
Absurdity and nullity erase life's purposes.
People commence their expeditions and never return.
Journeys begin in merriment, and with mourning, they end.
With writes of fate on each one's head, what can humans discern?
Many are kith and kin; but when times are thin, there's no friend.
If everything ends with death, what's, then, existence about?
Do I have an endless life? This is the soul-swaying doubt.
THE OCEAN
Alluring Amazing Ocean
Boundless Charming, Dynamic
Endless Energy in Free Frolic Foamy Flow.
Gorgeous, Loud Lovely, Marvellous, Musterious.
Noble or Outrageous.
Pearly, Pristine : Quite or Rowdy.
Unique: Vibrant, Valorous.
Wide, Wonderful with Youthful Vigorous
in zest and zeal.
Ocean flows thrashing waves beyond breakers,
sometimes turbulent, sometimes calm tranquil.
Liners, Vessels, Ships on voyage.
Passenger sinking in dreams of vastness.
Millions of sea creature struggling to survive,
floating, swimming, clinging to seaweeds,
crawling or settling in the abyss.
Preys and Predators thriving simultaneous.
Coral displaying floral garden spectacular beyond human vision.
Icebergs huge or small to float showing one portion,
nine times being submerged deceiving onlookers.
Aquanauts to venture expeditions under the ocean.
Ocean carrying immense treasures without any measure.
Ocean flows calling land dwellers to explore.
THE ABYSS
The abyss...evokes and fuels Hades enthusiasm,
a deep or seemingly bottomless chasm.
A slope leads down into the dark abyss,
and their delinquent prayers rendered amiss.
It's not just a wide or profound difference
between people; a gulf or a huge fence,
the abyss between these two nations;
Earth & Hell are never saintly expeditions.
The Abyss...
The popular home of a great but fallen Legion.
The music of wailing echoes from this region,
the regions of hell conceived the bottomless pit.
There, damnation has taken a lifetime seat.
But we will rave in the defeat of darkness,
Infernal abysses do not frighten us,
nor the blazes of thunder & fiery flames.
Who will miss their reservations;
in The Elysian Fields, the final resting place,
a home of heroic souls and the virtuous,
a land of perfect happiness at Earth's end,
on the banks of the Oceanus, there we're forever blessed.
But the abyss...
Sinking sin stinkers simmeringly sink into hell,
faces fried-up & fearfully frozen they fell,
as Lucifer summons them deep into the abyss,
denying them, forever, the joy of heaven's bliss.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©? April 2023.
have you heard of or seen the Mongolian death worm?
has he spat venom your way or tried to electrocute you?
you need to travel to the Gobi desert, where he is.
in the 1950’s there were many hysterical sightings.
known as olgoi-khorkhoi in Mongolia.
Roy Chapman Andrew made the death worm famous.
Writing a book about how he travels underground.
Creating waves of sand on the surface.
Looks like an intestine, has teeth, but no face or mouth.
Kind of a hideous looking thing. Sprays venom.
Is two foot long, without a head.
Many expeditions have tried thumping to get him to appear.
Even Roy Chapman Andrew disbelieves he exists
Except in Mongolian folklore.
L Milton Hankins loved by all here on Poetry Soup
He kept true to himself and to us with authenticity
Daily poems intimate, inciting, true to the group
Known for his philosophies, strong faith, and veracity
Author of the book above, on narrative traditions
He shared humor and sorrow of Southern Appalachia
An anthology of twenty-five short stories, his expeditions
Inspired by his childhood in the hills of West Virginia
Man of integrity, wrote about anything with clarity
Milt, was an honest man, who spoke his mind
Even when distracted by bullies, a lover of poetry
A warm free spirit honored by us, one of a kind
"My indestructible faith will always keep me free,
Until with God and loved ones I shall forever be"—LM Hankins
The
Frequent hours
Flock sky-high expeditions
To connect breaths world-wide
In the landscape of urge.
These
Minute minutes
Of Mother Earth's earnings
Mine and make value
If planned with the right pace.
DEWDROPS
Distant things mesmerize
Look close by: Get surprise.
Those unseen far away seem
to emit sparkling shiny beam.
Distant space attracts more,
calling astronauts on to explore.
Next neighbour to our land is ocean
getting no special attention.
Aquanauts are not strictly selected.
Under ocean expeditions are neglected.
One bank of river sighs behind:
‘Happiness lies on other side.’
Close friend may be great or saint
Yet we search for fellow at distant.
I traveled lot and spent time to see
mountains, rivers, fountains, sea .
Enchanted to see violent volcano
Iceberg, glacier, hill top with solid snow.
Verdant valley, meadow auburn,
barren desert, cave and cavern.
But failed even to appreciate
blazing beauty of dew droplets
glistening on grass blade in my garden,
which I discovered all on a sudden.
We need an alarm clock for daybreaks
For morning calls
For embarking on special expeditions
But down in a poor village
The cock crows
The cold wind blows
The night fades
The mountains covered with mist
The grass wetted
The birds sing
But there is neither bustle of life
Nor ringing of an alarm clock
Inside the cottage
Oh, the parents have long awakened
Before dawn
Their morning begins at four o'clock
Before the night retreats
They are on their ways
To the rubber estates
Their long-built habits
Are their only imagery alarm clock
Mechanical alarm clocks are only
For their schooling children
As scientist search other planets for water,
I think about Indian villages which don't have drinking water.
Astronomical research what is its utility?
Except for telecom services everything else is futility!
Money spend on space expeditions and exploring,
Should be diverted to masses whose conditions are deploring.
Even if we do find extraterrestrial life, Goldilocks zone,
What will be the benefits? Will we ever live in those zones?
Water and air are getting polluted every day,
Government is doing nothing to stop it in any way.
Let's address real problems here on earth,
Instead of spending money on what lies beyond earth!
21st March 2021
Inspired by Goldilocks Zone Contest of Anthony Biaanco
The surgeon had successfully removed his libido,
then had fed it to the hospital cat. Afterward,
a series of stuttering expeditions through mind-tunnels
condensed days into moments.
Corridors became tubes,
empty except for a memory of a pretty nurse,
hospital gowns and white bottoms
exposed like beluga whales.
She stood by an incinerator watching him,
flames licked at its open iron door.
The woman undressed
threw her uniform into the fire
then jumped naked into the flames.
Stepping out of the oven,
the nurse returned.
Her body now reduced to molten silver.
She gleamed fluidly.
He wanted to flow through her,
to mingle his pale carcass
with her pristine silver rivering.
Suddenly he understood.
"You're my libido!" He said.
She smiled acknowledgement.
"Do I need to enter the fire?"
"No, you need to find the cat." she replied.
He had forgotten. "Yes that damn cat!”
"Meanwhile" she continued,
"s**t into this bedpan."
The surgeon had successfully removed his libido,
then had fed it to the hospital cat. Afterward,
a series of stuttering expeditions through mind-tunnels
condensed days into moments.
Corridors became tubes,
empty except for a memory of a pretty nurse,
a few demented ghosts---their white bottoms;
beluga whales, peering through the slits
of ice-coated gowns.
She stood by an incinerator watching him,
flames licked at its open iron door.
The woman undressed,
threw her uniform into the fire,
then jumped naked into the flames.
Stepping out of the oven,
the nurse, in moments, returned.
Her body now reduced to molten silver.
She gleamed fluidly
He wanted to flow through her,
to mingle his pale carcass
with her pristine silver rivering.
Suddenly he understood...
"You're my libido!" He said.
She smiled acknowledgement.
"Do I need to enter the fire?"
"No, you need to find the cat." She replied.
He had forgotten. "Yes that damn cat!”
"Meanwhile" she continued,
"poop into this bedpan."
I've dreamed of traveling to equatorial Egypt
To see the Pyramids of Giza and even the Sphinx
And then onto the jungles of darkest Africa
To meet voodoo doctors, unafraid of their jinx
O, in my dreams, I've coursed through the canals of Venice
And met the Queen for tea before Wimbledon tennis
I've climbed the Eiffel Tower, spent hours in the Louvre
Been to Mumbai, New Delhi, by the Taj Mahal been moved
Once dreams such as these were the province of Kings
Yet today even you and I can realize all these things
From whaling expeditions in Norway to bullfights in Spain
They're just a click or two away, and a seat on a plane
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.