Long Adventurelost Poems
Long Adventurelost Poems. Below are the most popular long Adventurelost by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Adventurelost poems by poem length and keyword.
A starlit sky brightened the night
With a northern wind blowing
Hear the rushing ripples flowing?
It awakened the glowing eve light.
At last the river tale unfolds its secrecy
Why do the waters thrill the seeker?
Risking whatever might seem bleaker.
You see a quest is the greatest mystery.
All ventures who dare the waterway
Travel only by moonlight skies
Those sailors are known to be high
So set forth all mighty and don’t delay.
Two vessels took about with ease
Only the sailor’s cries were saluted
Everything else sounded muted
Just two ships sailing in the breeze.
Ever faster churned the water waves
And those swells seemed to get crude
Alas the sailboats lost the rivers feud
Sadly there was nothing left to save.
Far off the sailor’s grieved there way
Both boats were lost by the brooks squall
The rivers tale cried a song to all
And dark shades covered the pathway.
Remember those who cross by night
Only the dark skies light the means
Whatever else can barely be seen?
Onward is all that appears to be right.
Another years gone and yes we can
Has become another lost dream
No one stand up for patriout act to apply
To americans
We had momentum and lost steam
Were are new leaders
Ours are outdated and holding
Us back
Were is the love accepted
But not fact
Why is their black americans
Seeking reperations for crimes against africans
If that ever works I'm sue the british
For deformation of character
Why are the children silenced
Scared because they sit home
And listen to violence in every song
Show and game
Here the truth we all plaYing same game
And we all bluffing the same deal
Aces with eights
No matter what its a dead mans hand
Form:
A lost monopoly game
Williams fright, bridge, faith
and urban blight, Williamsburg.
Soot gray and brick red
the buildings stand
slumped, shrouded
death in the abundance
of vacant buildings.
Waste strewn sea
of asphalt, concrete, and urban dreams.
Cracks housing cigarette butts
form paper chains at the bases
of forlorn locust trees.
Sickly trees, popping from between
wrought iron barricades spiked manmade thorns
an Appleseedian affectation of defiance
toward a city of cave dwellers.
Doors, blind, windowless..no eye out or in..
unwelcoming entries..present
surfaces flat, color-chip palettes
for the graffiti “artist” latest spray painted
monstrosity
“ahhhhhhhhhh urban art!”
Two story warehouse walls writhe
their surfaces adorned
with an effluence of madness? grafetti....
Throw backs with paint tubes?
Or Jackson Pollacks with aerosol cans?
Sunday mornings only human grace;
bagel bitters, their sideburn squiggles
the only reassuring reminder of the reverent.
Their continuing presence
these Hasids with prayer shawls dangling
these monochromatic breathes of fresh air
present as the only harbor of safety, sanity,
as a lost girl child returns to her native
Brooklyn.