Long Armada Poems
Long Armada Poems. Below are the most popular long Armada by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Armada poems by poem length and keyword.
Amidst an orange moon which brightens
the chill of evening... when armada of snow
in a free-fall drapes the lanes as night recoils:
Yet, menfolk gather in a bonfire kindled with calm--
for just one flame in heaven's dome imbues
that a certain assurance can pierce a bitter gust
when darkness falls.
Tender grace endures as a lone star flickers
while the canopy of frost trembles to blanket
old hills like an iced lattice
climbing edge on edge and ridge on ridge:
and though dazzling crowns of peaks etch
iced crystals near westward's reach-
the smoldering embers of hope abide.
From a distance, I watch this mystery,
this interplay of flame and cold where time
mirrors the shift of beauty as a pool of winter
sways with the kiln of man's vigor and his moon,
allowing near capped byways to glimmer
alongside human's virtue that joins a snowy flow.
Contest of Anthony Slausen: Embers and Snowflakes
1/5/2018
So where do we begin
The din of Indian chagrin
Subcontinent cardinal sin
Forgot how to play spin
Incontinent rot no Ashwin
Saffas got under their skin!
So no Mo Shami or Ishant Sharma
Double whammy now not so jammy
What about Obama calmer karma
Back from Kolpak leader of pack
Is it Heaven or E17 got a stack
Right armer & mockney charmer
Winning grinning skinning spinning attack
Slaying & flaying while playing Simon Says
Avenge those tears from 10 years ago..revenge
Wicket farmer yep cheers Essex’s Mr Harmer
Remember Temba inspired fired the ember
First place won the race for the WTC mace
Dream team scheme everyone a member
And even without their gilded pace ace
No KG Rabada in the Saffa Jaffa Gaffer speed larder
Need 2 metre maneater Marco like Rafa to try harder
Latest greatest tyro narco pyro in the stellar fella Armada
Sneaky hoarder Marco Polo or cheeky marauder Hans Solo
Tip top tourer run scorer tall all thriller no filler..Torquemada
Raw pure southpaw land of the other hand flotilla of Jansen
Saffa’s new slick quick pillar..serial killer like Charles Manson
Let’s end where we did begin..Indian cupboard is rather bare
One savvy Ravi left.. bereft one pace pair with flair through the air
No Ashwin through thick & thin.. slipped on banana skin of spin
Another bish bash bosh whitewash after that Kiwi yippee nirvana
Can still hear the din within of that chagrin at the mandarins sins
Ire..greats retire entire empire on funeral pyre fire - Sinara it's Manana!
Graceful predator perched on the precipice of woe
Your satin crown, ebony feathers cannot camouflage mision of misery you'll sow
Your balmy wings caress as dark shadows grow
You sharpen your talons lethal grasp your helpless prey to show
But only quicken the hearts of foragers nestled below
Shrill call does not alarm wary prey; only emboldened, novel defenses bestow
Slower prey their extended units disband; bountiful feast now in escrow
Stealthy ears pick up the feigned, stressful calls of dispossessed lying low
The harried remnant recedes into veiled canopy with their cargo
Confident dive bomber, you plunge into the shielded canopy mayhem to strew
Only to have pleated wings torn by thistle, thorn guarding the undertow
Injured, but deadly weapons your armada still doth tow
With sharp beak you shred the stragglers who venture into twilight's afterglow
With bristling talons you scratch and claw causing stiffened backs to bow
But their desire to live trumps marauding havoc laid in stow
Shorn of limb but not of hope, scurrying from nest to nest to and fro
Storm clouds gather over Dover cliffs; thunderous chorus from nest doth bellow
On the sparring range, a docile, prevailing wind no longer doth blow
Wearied from long chase, depleted eagle from bleeding strand doth go
FLOTILLA
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
her heart, once a crammed attic,
overflowing with yesterday’s dusty relics,
became a barren room.
each secret—a silent, fragile confession,
she scrawled on paper thin as skin,
slipped into the throat of antique glass.
a cardboard ark, ferrying her bottled truths,
down to the shore she walked,
where the sea sighs secrets of its own.
a flotilla of confessions and longing,
a bobbing armada of regret,
pushed by the tide—away, away, away.
she raised her hands in farewell
releasing all her burdens,
their echoes fading on salty winds
*Image of Child Sad Suffering provided by Pixabay.
Not Of This Earth
Poetic Form: Narrative
Asymmetric mistrals warp speckled vaporous pallidness toward rhythmless voids. Obviates an evacuating azure as a midday star pivots to a twilight qualm. Numinous absent souls of supine prying pupils, yon ethers sinister obscurities, caught in stained oblique ocular whites. Drunken sanguineous veins to gluttony as impish tinkers sporadic doubts riveting telltale images. Metallic aerials ousted the clouds to unperceived iniquity.
Exhausting times since the alien armada infested Earth in a furrow of carnage. Abominable hordes disembarked, eviscerated whole metropolises. Hideous beings, an abysmal sight, smothered the remote vestiges of our civilized world. Cities ere their decimation had numbers reduced in fleeing desperation. The annihilation of life on Earth engrossed thoughts upon the scraps of humanity left. Ravenous creatures generating utter rampage to and abroad, slighting none to decay. Be they mortals or breathing existences of our lesser kingdom, perished in the bloodletting. Some kept as breeders for the succession of consuming time.
A cohort strung of plain folks, thrust as one in a nameless realm, sought ephemeral refuge in a subterranean hollow expanse. Bestill for the scarcity of fragile credence as the intrepid one, espy a grotesque glistening of crimson blood, secreting from the sheathed hoariness of fangs. Sentient rouses heedful footfalls per monstrosity exposed jawbone, that swapped shrill for snorts, neath laden eyes that had shrewdly scowling luminous orbs. Creepy anvils pierced hairline, afeared incus, sensitively measures close octaves, spurs the labyrinth's nerves. Alas, its vulgar pelt of bulky fur stretch hither and fro, bars clamors reach.
Cavernous chambered partitions mimic as trepidation ebbs nevertheless. Unceasing progress to that bemused destiny, as anonymous atrocities, plague each within their shells, e'er crucifying the last semblance of their true selves. Ardent impulses seeping via their lithe ruby channels, crossing neath the bits of their betraying skins, as they escape the nebulous sepulchral. Beasts at 6 o'clock, tho' what unknown lurks yon pits facade, save a future yet to be titled.
2021 May 12
Playing this tune
from the deepest base
I understand
where you
are coming from
I am going
into this
with eyes
wide open
I have
seen things
also honey
a clear vision
sweet beautiful darling
believe me
when I say
walking on
this path
with you
Has brought me
so much pleasure
with happiness
overwhelming view
with all
of my heart
in you
I am blowing
to you
my dream
on an armada
of kisses
sailing to you
sun shining
golden treasure
into paradise
From the
inner vision
in each soft
silken feeling
burning lips
kiss beats
within emotions
Exploding heartbeats
you have taken
this soul
to Heaven and back
dancing beautiful
fluttering the heart
magically enchanting
each rhythm
under spell
drum rolling
one bang
on siren
stuck on you
In the final moments of the cosmic rapture,
when the armada of flames subsided,
there stood the last defiance against Father Time.
A treacherous sea, beautiful and terrible as the dawn.
No solid surface, a ghost of the cosmos.
Internal pressure, yielding storms of diamonds.
A cold-hearted sentinel.
Restless, yet stubborn.
No sister planets,
no neighboring galaxies.
Only cruel immortality.
So, you have chosen to endure.
This eternal silence, this tomb of stardust and ash.
You shall suffer in silence.
What glorious purpose awaits you, O’ Neptune?
Insolent child, how dare you defy fate.
You should’ve let yourself fall quietly asleep.
Yet, in this forever blackness,
what poor, pitiful orbit do you take—
to justify this act of providence?
Feeling low best way to alter is kneeling at the altar of the Taco my romeo
Halter stealing TexMex slaughter dealing burrito or nacho cos ends with “O”
Clever clogs in boho vlogs falter say hey “Cilantro” but it is a herb so no
Yanks know tanks finest order for lothario or marauder's below the border
Crow say tally ho a true aficionado go gung-ho for mojo halo of Mexico
Mole is not a relic a culinary medic as holy as a cleric just like Pozole
Wholly done slowly not being hasty most things tasty ends in an “E”
Alright in the larder not from the Armada friends Guacamole or Tamale
“A” senorita might say forgot Enchilada and Quesadilla or Conchinita
Sages simmer sauces for ages so many stages as the flavour rages
The most pure for many I’m sure would quip the tip “al Pastor” Taco
Their cocoa gusto & avocado bravado so come on everyone go loco
Forget the crime.. sublime..prime chime once upon a time in Mexico
How does one describe true love
But a feeling deep down in our soul
Intangible, a mystery, a true enigma
Just actors playing a role
It's why the world keeps spinning around
Billions and billions of times
A truer truth has never been uttered
The ultimate of feelings sublime
Imagine us humans unable to love
An armada of empty vessels
Floating along on a nothingness sea
Or riding life's precarious trestle
My love and I are truly fortunate
To have found this elusive dream
An enigma that's puzzled this old world
Since man appeared on the scene
Trying to define the meaning of love
Is like trying to describe the wind
We feel the effects that both do have
But the visual comes from within
It's only a matter of perseverance
Love eventually comes our way
Take heart and show a little patience
You'll be dancing love's sweet ballet
It is barely light;
the coffee cup abandoned last night
is half full of shadows.
Through the window
an armada of geese
rows across a silent movie.
A shallow doorstep of time
has pardoned this moment
of all past crimes.
The world
(that prismatic spinning ghost)
has not washed its eyes yet,
the kitchen clock still dreams.
The coming day will sneak through
a mousehole of possibility
garbed in new clothes,
a look so unlikely
that you may not see it arrive.
You have to show up in this pause,
to know when that river of you
is flowing and rising,
then you can ride the wake
of the travelling geese
while making fresh coffee.
Hear the wild sky singing
under journeying wings.