Long Body of water Poems
Long Body of water Poems. Below are the most popular long Body of water by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Body of water poems by poem length and keyword.
if a river of blood united us as one,
what would we do with what we used to be
we spend so much energy trying to be our individual changes that we forget what was there
that introduction that was water to the fertilized ground of the art has been in a dry spell for
aeons
what do we do with the dusty, cobwebbed symbolism
do we fold it up, put it in a bottle and toss it in a body of water
shall we have so much sex that the sticky foundation overlaps the pureness
do we poison our beautiful basis with words of acid mixed with cyanide
there once was a flower so gentle to the touch
now it is cacti so coarse to our blind eyes
now we are weary and devoid of any type of feeling or emotion
even the best counsellor will need a counsellor
we submit and succumb to our stubbornness and our staunch refusal to bend or break
as a result we simply exist as another bright example of a hoaxed appearance
the blood continues to trickle as we constantly collect the ice
(Land that doth marry mother lode
of sublime earthen land and sea).
Age of exploration
ushered cruel fate
against “red” men living
in bliss by agents
patch of eden north
o the Mason Dixon line
latitude: 39.64839
longitude: -75.95591 alee
perchance designed
by divine providence
with dyslexic humorous bents
Cecil county Maryland
lies like plump backward letter “e”
witnessed topographic erosion
pocked imprimatur marked
meteorological dents
thru inundation of
oceanographic propensities
melding coastline like the Galilee
in particular by Chesapeake Bay,
that body of water
abutting like natural fence
first witnessed by captain
John Smith in 1608
mistaking himself tong tied
in sole of Italy
learned faux pas, when crossing paths
with Susquehannas hence,
offered tobacco sticks to natives
while recovering
from injured wounded knee
said other sundry tribes curiously eyed
then (I utilized poetic license)
took smoke from packet of Kents
which twist on actual
historical facts manipulated by me
but more truthful account awash
and replete with more
than interspersed nonsense
and incorporates tract situated
in so called Fertile Crescent – see
settled by Europeans of English stock,
who emigrated with nary a pence
“taming” shrew like “noble savages”
plied Leviathan sized ukuleles
whose might exploited for felling forests,
which timber built cabins with vents.
9/8/21
Behind the curve or way ahead of it
Impacting progression, causing friction
Due to depression and addiction
Couldn't help it
Being selfish
It's all been hellish
The cards I've dealt with
Been in the dark, hardly ever well lit
If needed I'd propel quick
People proud to be celibate
And others think they are superior and more intelligent
Quick to be prejudice
And to treat you like excrement
As if you are the nemesis
It's gotten obvious and prevalent
Among the elements
As I write near a body of water full of sediments
I send my condolences and sentiments
Been this way since the genesis
Sad that it's typical and done due to senselessness
It's detriment
No more buildings or settlements
Due to fires and war, areas becoming desolate
At times folks went on a exodus
In and out of areas full of species that are venomous
Oh, excuse me on whether or not it is relevant
It's become resonant
The very end of it
Is not clear or evident
Could be a prerequisite
The whole solar system not just Connecticut
The scales and balance becoming delicate
Evil or benevolent
Didn't always stick to the regiment
Am not a perfectionist
But have been a pessimist
Too many obsessed with reaping life's benefits
Yet it's impacting development
And life for animals such as elephants
I don't need to put it in parenthesis
Or use emphasis
As I've remained generous
Even when life got treacherous
Now that you mention it
It's fine if you take offense to this
But realize I'm so much more than sentient
Even if I'm not always feeling 100% blessed to live
Regardless if many people consider me as good as dead to them
Tension crawls into the pores of crashing contemplation
Why has it become so hard to breathe?
If only it was known what this dejected heart is saying
As she sobs poetic lines of wordless woe
She is cradled in the tempo tempest of this reflection
Pulsing in the unfeeling land beyond her bodily home
The blood pumping sweet iron grief spurts
The soles of the feet throb at the impact
As the grass cools only to recall the coldness of the present
The impact…
Of a tear falling to the floor
The droplet so gentle… in clear-watered, grounded rapture
The energy of the sorrow befallen is perilous
One with many roads leading to frail fantasy
Aggravated tear…so atrocious, envious
There is something more whirling in this déjà vu cycle
Being crushed many times
By lackadaisical, ever-traveling minds
It is too easy to be tossed to and fro
Between conscious leisure and provocative pressure
Sub-dominated by sumptuous conviction
That word—love—a furtive dagger
Driving a gaping hole of shame and unknowing
Straight into her
Wracking around in this meddle
Of emotion and reason—shooting up falsehood full throttle
Drifting there again
In a solitude almost consoled by the earthy coldness
Of his fowl glare…
Every unsaid word frazzling to the mind
Tearing me and lifting me high
One must wonder if you watch as the fragments fly
As they float for only a few seconds
Of your precious time
And fall back down below
At your very feet
Where the grass is warm, and hopes are high
Please don’t leave them on the floor with the tear
The tear that never quite gets absorbed
The tear that chillingly consoles that bleeding heart
Destroying me
As she thrashes in the maze of bones and matter
Each hollow pathway of the marrow leading to a dead end
Or an ever-winding way downwards
They say each body of water leads straight to the sea
Where will the tear I abhor…lead me?
Mother Natures child ….her name is Ocean
Independent , abundant with emotion
When her body of water is clean
Her mood is calm and serene
Countless days she is displeased with mankind
With those humans who are ignorant and blind
Treating her as a garbage bin
Just heaving their rubbish in
The days her waves crash with rage
Her anger has ascended to the next stage
Watching her marine life dying or distressed
From those humans who couldn’t care less
Aware mankind is working toward positive change
Dedication and education maintained
In time no longer a-washed with debris
Her marine life protected and free
In a little place in the back of beyond,
there's a body of water called Second Pond.
(I just assume that this corresponds
with a body of water called First Pond.
If someone can confirm this, please respond!)
Here in Newfoundland we've always been told
that in the month of June, the water is cold
and while we may have warm temps that are pleasing,
it is indeed true that the water is freezing!
(And to tell the truth - I have to be honest -
it's not much warmer in July or August!)
Nevertheless, in this northern clime,
we do get warm weather from time to time.
So once in a while, my friends and I take a trip
out to Second Pond for a leisurely dip.
On this particular day (June 20)
It was 30 degrees, with heat aplenty.
(That's degrees Celsius, not Fahrenheit.
Don't want to give the Americans a fright!)
In spite of the heat, there was still hesitation
as we approached the water with some trepidation.
But we felt so hot we just had to be bold
and get in that pond no matter how cold.
We went in slowly and, in fact, rather gingerly,
mindful of the rocks so as to avoid injury.
Within moments our bodies were practically numb
and no one could speak, our voices were mum!
Now please forgive me if this sounds perverted:
but it felt as though my willie was inverted!
And I really can't give much in detail
of what my wife and friend felt, as they are both female.
And so, even though it was a little bit stressful,
we came out refreshed; our swim was successful.
And next time when it gets to 30 degrees,
we'll be out in that pond, I guarantee!
36, and I’m grateful to be alive. Still in the back of my mind Memento mori , “Remember that you will die”. So today I will do and not try. I will let go of the illusion that I can control every outcome because that’s the ill man’s delusional idea of how to manipulate time. Detach from the illusion of control. Just understand the future does not exist in this moment. Here and now is all we know. No matter how tightly you hold on, things will find a way to go . If everything was certain and nothing ever changed, life would be a stagnant body of water no Currents to shift its way. What a boring existence for the being’s part to play. We were already dying the day we were formed because time is not afraid. It existed before and will after the day the last human remains. So the celebration of another three hundred and sixty-five days has a feeling of accomplishment for another trip around the sun my skin sack has made. What is future but a mere wish, a hopeful gift , we should all be grateful if we get. I am alive now, but I remember we die, so I won’t waste breath on wishing for endless time. So here’s to 36, finally loving to be alive.
In a dream I saw myself in a bright room, sitting and writing down a poem
The experience was temporary; I soon returned to a normal frame of mind
I felt another presence besides myself, suddenly I was awoken by a loud hum
As I search in my head what was it I said, and wondering what I might find
I was sure about this vision I had, the humming noise? An oscillating dry fan
Feeling outside normal perception of space and time for a cold spell
I was the transient, the other conscious in a dream that seemed had no plan
In a waking state of consciousness still my soul is clouded, and here I dwell
No recollection or recognizing my true nature or of my ignorance
Unaccepting this illusion of life instead of its reality, certain that I must
not condemn me to suffering and deadly defiance,
I attempt to escape the life cycle of the universe, in this I trust
A life of austerity, devote myself to seeking knowledge
Unattach myself to any possession which result in greed
Achieving liberation by spirituality this I pledge
and eventually achieve a liberated state, indeed
I will not incriminate myself but become a good friend, a giver
And not search for another roadway another dead end
Time lapses, searching ends where the narrow road runs into a river
Flowing as one with a body of water, an experience to transcend
And if the microorganisms might be killed in every breath I’ve taken
by the immune system, discipline will be my task
When they call me lunatic when no finds of a scientific explanation
I’ll show that it is wise to keep and wear the surgical mask
The fundamental aim to perfect our soul essential, it took eons to rise above
Speak the truth if it is pleasant or remain silent if the truth is painfully lumen
All has a living soul in them, and all should be treated with respect and love
This can seem like a dream, and in my dreams, I am only human
Ever wonder about the similarities between life and fishing, as a fisher man sets out to cast his line into the waters, relaxes in his chair or leans up against the dock, fishing is a great way to think about the ongoing daily times we all face.
Just you, enjoying the sights, sounds,area in which your fishing, whether a huge body of water, a pond or a nice calm lake.
Any fisherman would tell you they are seeing to catch the biggest fish, large mouth bass, pike, northern. As a child they are just hoping for any kind of fish..
We all think we have to have the biggest things in life, car, house, most expensive clothes, phone etc..what if as a fisherman we could just close our eyes, thanking God for what he gives us on our fishing lure, fish as if with a child’s spirit.
Casting out your worries, stressors, ambitions, dreams out to the Foot of our Dear Savior's Cross onto the bobber of our line, letting God be the Fisherman.. Having faith in what He gives us to reel back in.. ..having Faith that He knows what our needs are..
I’ve watched several kids, the excitement they show is to have a child’s heart, “God asks all of us to become like a child “. Fishing is our greatest pastime here in Minnesota, so next time you cast out your line remember, Life gives you ups and downs, be satisfied with your catch, small fish can bring just as much JOY as any fish.
How would it feel to wake up with no worry?
No more pain, sorrow or anxiety
No more overthinking? How happy I’d be
Free from this mental slavery
How sweet my emancipation day would be
No more whips and chains life bestowed upon me
I have so much flaws that you don’t see
I cover them up so you only see the good in me.
I’m like a blue hole.
The surface is a beautiful indigo, but pitch black below.
Sadly, sometimes the darkness consumes me
It has me in a chokehold like a dog on a leash
Some days I want to go to the beach without a life vest
I can’t swim so there’s only one way my visit will end
I imagine my lungs being filled with salty sea air
The wind in my 4b/c hair
That beautiful body of water will be the last to see my tears
No more heartbreaks
No embarrassment
No more tears
Just Peace
The end probably feels like a breath of relief,
But you no longer need air to breathe.
As much as I want to be freed like Kunta Kinte
My leap of absence would be a pity
I’m talented, beautiful, funny, and witty
So I’ll push through until God says my mansion is ready.