Long Amphibious Poems

Long Amphibious Poems. Below are the most popular long Amphibious by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Amphibious poems by poem length and keyword.


Soundless Blinding Blitzkrieg

Abominable barrage bombards
fortified barracks show
warring subsequently, incandescently,
and brilliantly doth glow
biden time, this
garden variety Joe Schmoe

hunkers down deep
within arched bunker poe
wet tickly donning
pence sieve stance against row
battery weathering incessant assault
invariably waiting for Godot,

albeit devout atheist doubting Thomas
suffers major blow
wavering, vacillating, undulating...
ominous foreboding,
viz more'n one circling crow
decries status ranking sincerely

truly posthumous hero
reconnaissance delivers...
yup absolute zero
looming dark shadow
futile against inconsolable sorrow
anonymous bookish deadened

erstwhile febrile fellow
good as gone, cuz yours truly...
fresh outta ammo
resigned killed in action
another unmarked grave
housing lovely bones

courtesy contemplative bro
charred body foretells, know,
and promises not one daisy will grow
despite fervent obeisance
soul fully do I futilely bellow
worse fate than death

i.e. gulag archipelago
feebly decrying, lamenting,
lamely pleading against
bleak unfair in apropos
sentence never granted furlough
never to witness celestial amarillo

beatific, cathartic, fantastic...,
nor chase gold pot end of rainbow
all pleasant dreams, I must forego
seek neither fame nor glory hobo
content whiling away (Billy me)
idolized time solitary Homo

sapien re: me tortured afterlife
enslaved forever guilty "fake" pharaoh
moans... suddenly joyous tears flow
aforementioned psychedelic mashup
figment of imagination - psycho
illogical gallimaufry, hallucinatory,

and illusory expo
attempt lame analogy how I wallow,
when setting sail 
to launch crafted poe
whim, whereby invisible 
battle scars attest

successful amphibious ambition
inundated battling lightspeed tempo
competing ideas exhaust
thus, I seek comfort of
soft cloud like pillow!


Soundless Blinding Blitzkrieg Wrought Disarray

Abominable barrage bombards
fortified barracks show
warring subsequently, incandescently,
and brilliantly doth glow
biden time, this
garden variety Joe Schmoe

hunkers down deep amidst disarray
within arched bunker poe
wet tickly donning
pence sieve stance against row
battery weathering incessant assault
invariably waiting for Godot,

albeit devout atheist doubting Thomas
suffers major blow
wavering, vacillating, undulating...
ominous foreboding,
viz more'n one circling crow
decries status ranking sincerely

truly posthumous hero
reconnaissance delivers...
yup absolute zero
looming dark shadow
futile against inconsolable sorrow
anonymous bookish deadened

erstwhile febrile fellow
good as gone, cuz yours truly...
fresh outta ammo
resigned killed in action
another unmarked grave
housing lovely bones

courtesy contemplative bro
charred body foretells, know,
and promises not one daisy will grow
despite fervent obeisance
soul fully do I futilely bellow
worse fate than death

i.e. gulag archipelago
feebly decrying, lamenting,
lamely pleading against
bleak unfair in apropos
sentence never granted furlough
never to witness celestial amarillo

beatific, cathartic, fantastic...,
nor chase gold pot end of rainbow
all pleasant dreams, I must forego
seek neither fame nor glory hobo
content whiling away (Billy me)
idolized time solitary Homo

sapien re: me tortured afterlife
enslaved forever guilty "fake" pharaoh
moans... suddenly joyous tears flow
aforementioned psychedelic mashup
figment of imagination - psycho
illogical gallimaufry, hallucinatory,

and illusory expo
attempt lame analogy how I wallow,
when setting sail 
to launch crafted poe
whim, whereby invisible 
battle scars attest

successful amphibious ambition
inundated battling lightspeed tempo
competing ideas exhaust
thus, I seek comfort of
soft cloud like pillow!

Please, Help Me Understand

Excuse me, dear friends!
I would like to learn about
something important to me
that keeps my mind rather busy 
and makes me look a little bit silly

Would you help me know
if there are still some idiots who are
against color people in our time and why,
and if something like that 
isn't supposed to be a crime,

On the other hand, I would like to know
whether or not it is only I who witness
that a great number of whites
go to the beaches in summers
to change the color of their white skin
to light or dark brown
lying in the sun

And also,
there's one more thing I need to know,
Aren't those dumb whites  afraid 
to look like color people
when their skin turn light or dark brown,
or with their stupid thoughts and approaches 
to be like a real clown?

Maybe, they might think that
by looking down on color people
they will be crowned with a crown
on their heads
Such a way of thinking fills me with dreads

Excuse me, frieinds! Say it again. 
Do you mean to say they don't care about the legality 
as well as their responsibilities to humanity,
and on the beaches in summers
they just aim to develop
their amphibious capability and peculiarity
that once their ancestors had
Now I see better the reality of their stupidity

Thanks a lot for your help

Premium Member Hms Detention

That old wooden box that we nailed to a plank
The pram in the ditch that required a good yank
All that we needed was front and back wheels
We wouldn’t need brakes for we had rubber heels

The front wheels we fixed with some bent-over nails
At that point we didn’t think we would need sails
The back wheels meant even more nails needed bending
And soon there’d be holes in our jeans needing mending
For steering we tied on a length of old rope
I still wonder now how that rope never broke

At the brow of the hill with a push for a start
I lost all control of that ramshackle cart
I laugh at it now, for the memory’s fond
I wasn’t amused when I ditched in the pond

To save face I said that that’s what I intended
And then said my cart racing exploits have ended
For here there’s an ‘ocean’ and here there is wood
So let’s build a boat and let’s build it real good

We mounted a mast with a very big nail
And Grandma’s best bath towel was used as a sail
From Granddaddy’s shed some string gave it tension
And then I said this boat I name ‘The Detention’

We’d left all the wheels on, it looked kinda hideous
But I wasn’t daft, I had made it amphibious
Our boat’s maiden voyage now had to ensue
But this time, for ballast, I grabbed me a crew

I yelled ‘All aboard’ and me and my brother
Set off with Freddie… (the head is his mother)
If I had been older I’d claim I was drunk
When we hit the water the bloody thing sunk

Covered in mud we smelt like a latrine
And I said ‘Hey lads, it’s a submarine’
But we knew the head wouldn’t be too amused 
And soon in her office we all stood accused

She spoke in a tone that you might call sardonic
Our naval past includes vessels iconic
Your boat has made Freddie look like a drowned rat
You called it ‘Detention’… that’s ironic that


10 November 2021
For A Noteworthy ship contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
Form: Rhyme

The Fiddler and the Frog

In a damp, bluesy club in the middle of the reeds
Two amphibious musicians gathered in the weeds
Stringed instruments of driftwood and canary grass
Played with webbed fingers and a dash of southern sass
Two of them will face off to see who would headline
Swamp juice and flies aplenty and the music is divine
Marsh creatures waiting, having a drink on mossy log
While they watched the marsh house band, Bulrush Bog
Tadpoles grooving in the water, afraid of the limelight 
Since they are literally spineless, some likely stage fright
Beavers gnawing on wood, carving out a double bass
Muskrats drumming cattails at Animal’s Muppet pace
The music now quiets with the sun as the light goes dim
Fireflies set the mood, drinks filled, lake foam to the brim 
Two finalists take stage, Marsh music battle is to start
Yet… they sounded the same, you couldn’t tell them apart
So how do you decide which musical act will take the win
When it’s a toad with a fiddle versus a frog with a violin? 

January 23, 2023
The Fiddler and the Frog Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Form: Rhyme


Fraught With Ibs Irritable Bowel Syndrome

Fraught With IBS Irritable Bowel Syndrome...

Rear lee if ever suffices as an apt poetic title
amidst bookish canon - while
this writer (similar to other aspirants
in their respective creative pursuits)
aware arbitrary perusers may deem vile

core body of voluntary selective readers
mentally affix probationary trial
before unequivocally gravitating
toward my genre or signature style,
which unique modality
of expression eventually

accruing some degree of popularity
affecting unseen frown or smile
nonetheless, accepting, enjoying,
and tolerating how I playfully rile
aware that anonymous reader's
patience can wear thin relegating mine

worded persona on par with a reptile
unknowingly breaking fragile bond,
hence she/he might not reconcile
without awareness a valuable kinship,
dismiss me as puerile,
thus forsaking tenuous link, one

that may never bare tangible fruition,
yet all along self scrutiny occurs to refine
thy cerebral thought provoking profile
also intimating months gone by bias
arises toward my
figurative handily prehensile

expansive vocabulary, could
(and/or does) rank as a pile
of unpleasant gluteus maximus
sphincter muscle missile
imposing effort to tone down exuberant,
flamboyant, and gallant mercantile

flashing blindingly exasperatingly, 
and inflamingly nauseating vocabulary,
not deliberately juvenile
but this luxe lavish embellishment
a labor of (lost) love with English
Language (inherent since...

in utero), thus...infantile
asper taking shape without conscious
deliberation, though imbecile
appellation possibly affixed
as lasting impression,
perhaps even engendering hostile,

whereat no effort to exhort
unconditional acceptance of me guile
will transpire, cuz this chap
recognizes how tenuously fragile,
the online choice to remain a steadfast
virtual friendship quintessentially fissile

oft times casting the notion how facile
mine arrangement springs from one
core textured intellectual domicile
that houses persona of one docile
amphibious descendent, whose forebear,
yes twas a crocodile!
Form: Persona

Premium Member Timberland

Wide the mirrored water stretched,
licking green upon the pointed pines, limbs sweeping low and cool.

The creek meandered, soft giggles escaping mossy rocks
where polliwogs swam, nearly, but not quite frogs, still sporting pubescent tails;
the adults pontificating against the shallow bank,
throats swollen with amphibious wisdom.

Soft brown mud squished, a buttered cream,
between summer toasted toes wading into wonder.
Fragrant evening campfires heightened hungers,
supper roasting over charred coals flavored
the stirrings of a tempting crush on a boy much older;
this girl just barely navigating puberty's powerful push,
his smile extracting heightened pulse, blush brushed.

Life's long summer slipped slowly away
and autumn found his wife and child laying him down,
the plot unknown, unmarked by me;
yet, painful, still, the memory of broken trust,
of love-crust pitched to a not quite woman
deep in the rusting woods of Timberland.

Copyright, February 14, 2016

Premium Member Thundering Blunderbuss

Thundering Blunderbuss!
What is a platypus?
Looks like a beaver, but 
Has a duck's bill.

Fairly cute little guy,
Ornithorhynchidae*
Lives in Australia, is
On the no-kill.

Semi-aquatic and
Strangely neurotic, it
Lays eggs like birds and has
Venom like snakes.

Weirdly amphibious,
Bio-fluorescent fur
Webbing between the toes,
Strong swimmers make.

————

Technically, this is a Didactic Double Dactyl
since it’s full of educational goodies too.
A double dactyl is a form of McWhirtle, but
apparently, it is also a form of black death.
Switching to the McWhirtle on a hunch, lol.

*6 syllables, rhymes with ‘guy’ (like or-ni-tho-rin-ke-die)
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: McWhirtle

Standing Watered Ground---Sentinel Contest

Standing Watered Ground
                          Silence Within My Sound  "Sentinel"




        In the midst of oceanic chaos and madness
            The shores cornerstone anchors in pain
                Elemental forces assaulting in frigorific air
                    An amphibious blitzkrieg, a coup de main
 
            Proud, stoic tower of light standing strong 
                Within the core of this cyclonic devastation
                    Whipping winded white water warrior waves
                        Surrounded lone structure of land starvation

                Tidal waves of torment fill watered down walls
                    Gasping for air these breathing blocks may drown
                        Anxious skies await to bleach newly broken blocks
                            However this man made structure stands its ground



                                                         04/06/2016
Form: Quatrain

Little Frog

Yes, little frog 
You were floating downstream 
On the surface of a giant leaf
Carried along by the swift current 
Navigating your way around 
The thick forrest of weeds 
And through the dense undergrowth 
That runs along the water's edge 
Pursued by the hungry pike
Narrowly escaping from the jaws of death 
You were swept downstream 
Towards the mouth of the great river
Where all journeys begin and end, 
And yes, the heavens were smiling down 
On that fateful day 
As you set forth on a voyage 
Of adventure and discovery 
Leaving behind the amphibious dreams 
Of a little tadpole
Spawned in the mucous-laden  stream,
And yes, this is the way that life happens 
It's always some conflict between the past
And the present 
Some upheaval of the soul
To overcome the fearful moment
And escape into the future 
With all its hopes and dreams 
Waiting to be fulfilled, 
Round the circuit of the unknown world 
And into the great mystery that lies ahead, 
A little frog 
Floating downstream 
On the surface
Of a giant leaf. 


       W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly.  2021

         26/2/22
© W.A. Cholt  Create an image from this poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace