Long Boats Poems
Long Boats Poems. Below are the most popular long Boats by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boats poems by poem length and keyword.
Being around my world
And the world as a whole,
Never have i really seen,
Love within the visible so whole.
Latest of these are colors,
Never wants to be righteous,
Rather so ridiculous,
Bragging, red became malicious,
Prophesing to be the best.
Yellow is in disagreement
And claims he is not the least,
The white shows to know,
And said the black is low.
To one another they send sorrow,
Claiming difference like goats
And boats,
And forget about tomorrow.
Oh! they know not what i know...
For if they really know,
Then they will know where they
Come from,
What they really are,
Colors, colors they are...
All belonging to one absolute painter.
I'll give it all away
just to have you j
Just to know for one moment
our love was true
One thought away
We've been done for days
The memories fade
From black to Grey
Worn out from the games
We reluctantly play
Hearts sinking like a ship
In a blink of an eye
a poem without words
a song without notes
summer without heat
Sea without boats
what was it
what may never be
wrapped up into one
like make believe
helpless tired
only wanting more
empty heart ready
for what lay in store
A quick glimpse
a stammer
The run toward the door
you can give up hope
Without trust
Love is no more
Quit the fight
Throw down the gloves
thought you were losing
Face down in the mud
Up before 8
seems like it's fake
the future forever
the past a mistake
Cheers from boats with colorful sails fade,
The surfer’s smile wanes as the warmth subsides,
In parks where families with picnics stayed,
Their chatter gone, when summer is gone.
The dawn’s early light loses its spark,
Petunias and zinnias weather and wilt,
Birds and bees soon disappear,
As summer slips away.
The days of endless light are gone,
Replaced by evenings cloaked in dark night,
The laughter of children, swaying on swings in park,
Echoes of joy, no longer found.
The gentle breeze, now shy and cool,
Carries whispers of summer’s end,
The rivers slow their hurried pace,
Reflecting dimmer skies, a colder future lies ahead.
Orkie orca lived by the sea
With his mother and Aunt Bea
Up and down the Pacific coast they would roam
Looking for a spot to call their own
Orkie would watch the fishing boats
As they threw out their nets and floats
If he wanted to swim and play
Away from the nets he would have to stay
He would chase the seals on the waves
Dive down to the underwater caves
He would jump high in the air
He was having so much fun he didn't care
One day Orkie was out for a swim
He hit something with his back fin
He slowly looked back
When he saw something black
Mom, mom come and see what I have found
It seems to be bobbing and making a sound
That Orkie, is called a bouy
You have to leave it alone it is not a toy
You see Orkie they leave it out at sea
So the big boats know just where they should be
It show them if they are close to the shore line
If they don't cross this they will be fine
the toads do not dive
they plop into the scummy pond
pale green bellies floating beneath them
like airbags
they paddle and back-stroke
through the weedy water
as slow as inflatable boats
when i visit them
i turn into a kid
lobbing pebbles into the spawny drink
to watch them scatter
they remind me of fat men
hastily departing a swimming pool
it is a joke i prank them with
i keep doing this
until they turn to glare at me
heads half-submerged
eyes bulging with indignation
once it began to rain heavily
raindrops crashed into the pond
like exploding peanut shells
.
the toads commenced to croak in unison
the noise almost drowning-out
the sound of the pelting rain
no doubt they were bidding me
to go drown somewhere
Andromedan castles
moat has little blue boats
servers are maidens joyed
white iris gardens
deep canyons
radars aimed
soft cadence
magnet minds
love balanced
Orion forts marbled
shining with platinum bands
armoured Galactics cruel
stone and steel makes head reel
bold barons
orlon vests
high pylons
canon shots
warring sons
______________________________
I'm A Happy Whale
I am a whale
keeper of the sea
so mighty and huge
I swim to great lengths
from the arctic sea
to Hawaii in the winter
... I put on a show
The greatest show on earth
that's not man choreographed
as tourist flock for a peek
from tour boats and land
cameras in hand, no doubt
to take keepsakes
and treasures
of me, of me
to take back to their love ones
or to frame in their memories,
in albums and on walls
of me, of me
I don't want to disappoint
I don't want to disappoint
first I pay homage, though
to the land
the koolau mountains
flanking in the distance
and to white sand beaches
nestled with palm trees
as a cool island wind
breezes over the glistening blue and white
I blink, I blink
at paradise, at paradise
and at a seagull circling above
blinking back at me
I get ready, I see my cue,
in the distance, I see hundreds of tourist
most of which are clad in Aloha print waving at me
the stage is set
I dive to the deepest depths of the sea,
along with my pod
gathering up speed, like a submarine
then breaching the surface
slapping the water with our fins and tails
dancing, dancing in winter sun
I blink, I blink
at the many tourist smiling
cameras in hand
no doubt, taking word of mouth to spread
I pause, I pause
I let out a bigger spout of water from my blow hole
I see more smiles, especially of the babies
this is paradise, from the smiles, to land and sea
I am happy whale
connie pachecho
2/2/17
Ottawa the beautiful-
in the province of Ontario . . . in Canada
at night it is a magical fantasy land and even during the day . . .
I grew up in this town and I love it the Parliament buildings are breathtaking
Neo-Gothic surrounds a grass courtyard used everyday by citizens from dawn
and into the night with sounds and light shows music and words
projected onto Parliament . . . the center of Ottawa is a mingling of
grand Victorian and modern the result is quite stunning
we have a place called the Byward Market
where farmers and craft people sell each day and at night it is a gathering of
restaurants and clubs . . .
the historic Rideau Canal is full of boats in the summer . . . skaters in
the winter considered the longest skating rink in the world and on each side
it is park lined there are areas of the city quite ethnic like Little
Italy Chinatown . . any kind of museum I love the
National Art Gallery of Canada tons of festivals and performing arts
nature can be found in our many wild parks lush and green and with snow
covered paths in the winter if you want white water rafting we have it
horse back riding fairs you name it we have places you will love . . .
just walk around old neighborhoods it so inspiring to see the homes in
many parts of Ottawa . . . this is a town that I love
and I know you would love it too . . .
Whenever, I have to leave I hold Ottawa in my heart until I return.
_______________________
April 7, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/Bask In Historic Beauty
Copyright Protected, ID 17-844-921-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Fish 'n' chips on the Clyde
Fish 'n' chips on the side
Fish 'n' chips with too much salt
Fish 'n' chips and watching boats
Fish 'n' chips and sunny clouds
Fish 'n' chips and funny crowds
Fish 'n' chips and ugly dogs
Fish 'n' chips without the smog
Fish 'n' chips and coffee cold
Fish 'n' chips where ice cream sold
Fish 'n' chips where joggers sweat
Fish 'n' chips on wet park bench
Fish 'n' chips where sea gulls swoop
Fish 'n' chips where sea gulls poop
Fish 'n' chips with nip on the nose
Fish 'n' chips with nip on the toes
Fish 'n' chips is rubbish food, but
Fish 'n' chips taste so good
Fish 'n' chips and mountain sides
Fish 'n' chips on the Clyde !.
Get the picture ?
From East to west enslaved in chains
To work the fields, make tracks for trains
They sang their song antiphonally
To dull their day, hide misery
Those blues notes hit in wailing tone
And words about the heavenly home
Their doleful sounds had paved the way
To blues and jazz in later day
Rhythms and chords became complex
Joplin’s ragtime was a great success
For well practiced piano on old upright
Those old time rags are still a delight
New Orleans was where it began
In ghettos for blacks with time on their hands
From morning to night they developed their skills
On trumpets, sax, it staved off their ills
Mastering their instruments with deft virtuosity
Jazzy riffs marked by smart improvisatory
The Mississipi paddle boats chugged their way
Aboard, the sounds of jazz in full sway
Entertaining, with a sense of pride
Scat singing, cross rhythms, boogie and stride
And took their art to far off places
Strutting their stuff, no airs and graces
White bands were now beginning to swing
Inclusion slowly becoming the thing
With time to go, but heading that way
In church, brilliant gospel helped them to pray
Spirituals continued to highlight their plight
Fair treatment becoming within their sight
Jazz continues to wow one and all
In different forms to really enthrall
Miles Davis and Matt Dennis both just the same
With jazz in mind, they played the same game
Blues and jazz have impacted new sounds
As popular as ever its music abounds