Long Careering Poems
Long Careering Poems. Below are the most popular long Careering by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Careering poems by poem length and keyword.
Formidable flourishing fiends...
harangue since landing
yours truly immersed
in a dream-like
fiercesome state of war,
not quite a dream
can be described
as a "hypnagogic state"
while virtually in Singapore,
where Katy Perry
namesake of a lion doth roar
noise amplified courtesy dissonance
while nine inch nails synthesize
scraping across chalk board
evoking discordant soundcloud
foo fighting beastie boys
comprising a quatuor.
Socked away within
cerebral nooks and crannies
house mailer daemons
inconveniencing yours truly
i.e. an Indus das scribe
hub bull mendicant
bullying jimmying,
jump starting, joy riding
junket at breakneck speed
disregarding dangerous signposts
warning reckless (heedless) highjackers
speeding stolen heavily
sedated body (mine)
slap happily, obliviously,
jauntily (devil may
care attitude) careering
across rubble strewn
bombed out stone age terrain
gunning engine like
there's no tomorrow
zipping past crumpled
suspended abridged abutment
jarring sole abducted,
bound and gagged one tramp (me)
hurling over edge of cliff
temporarily free of gravity,
(albeit an infinitesimal eye blink)
between life and death
rapidly descending in accordance
with laws of physics,
when suddenly motion stops
as if thee Earth stood still
freezing all life forms
held as if invisibly tethered,
when ghostly debut appearance
courtesy Rod Serling
rattles of his trademark narration
"...fifth dimension beyond
that which is known to man.
...This is the dimension of imagination."
I resort to aforementioned loose analogy
to approximate mental state of limbo,
asper...this man falling to Earth
minus parachute on par
with crash test dummy
an absent firmament
to feel securely grounded
held stock still,
when moments before plunging
pitched head over heels...
only to find this mortal,
either entering or exiting
somnambulant state
only groggily awaking
out of deep sleep
falling out of bed
singing hup bout poor lovely bones.
Each is a piece, a small part
of a composite that has come
together in a morning,
the frayed strands of dreams
knitted into a waking timed now
to a slow tread on a familiar street.
Then suddenly, careering through
the center of my thoughts a train
comes with bells at a crossing
clanging loudly and wheels grinding
on rails heading off towards
a distant point in the past. I stop
and see myself, late teens,
leaving home, riding the interstate
with dreams spilling out
of a duffle bag, head in a cloud
of hope. I was Rimbaud on rails,
high on poetry that I took straight.
Six months in a one room flat
I ran out of money and a literary career,
hitchhiked back home to sink
into a wintery despair.
A lifetime has passed
and I have left a poem tied
to the end of each year as if
marking my way. The words
of most have now weathered away
to a silence. I write as a form
of prayer to that greater silence
and on still mornings, hear
the sound of a train in the far
distance growing quieter.
A tempest night sky presses, my lattice windows shake,
as if someone’s being thrown against them, or worse yet,
a yeti's breaking in. They lock with little levers that seem far
too flimsy to keep out the prying fingers of turbulence.
We watched a man plodding outside - obviously a student from Alaska.
He was talking on his phone, his breath a continuous, cold white cloud.
He slipped, careering drunkenly but managed to stay upright by
assuming a surfer-like crouch.
“Where do you think HE’s going?” Lisa wondered.
Forget fall’s polite, amuse-bouche of chill, we’ve been smacked,
full frontally assaulted by the gigantic, cold-fist of winter. “Go on,”
I said, to the weather gods last fall, like an unlucky gambler on a
losing streak. “hit me!”
Now I’m searching Amazon for “flannel underwear”.
Airliner in the storm is not doing well
Pilot is having difficulty keeping it in the air
Tossing and turning, careering with each stormy swell
Stewardess do not tip us off, issuing us all kinds of care
Each one squelching their own internal light for our sake
My eyes are fixated on the dark clouds that appear with a glare
747 gives a quiver, a drop, and at last a shiver and shake.
Sky marshal holds onto the seat until his knuckles are white
There is a loud boom that sounds like an earthquake.
I wonder if we will make it safely or be a plane crash sight.
Others are praying, phones put away, rosary beads on their laps
I swear I see a halo around an old lady’s head and it is bright.
Suddenly there is a clap, no a series of loud angry claps.
In succession, bam, bang, bam, bang, bam, bang, bam.
The plane begins a descent and we all hear familiar flaps.
Thunder envelops us in series of freezing cold wraps
Airliner in the storm is not doing well
Others are praying, phones put away, rosary beads on their laps
Tossing and turning, careering with each stormy swell
Inklings Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Endearing Ms Eilish not willy nilly a silly Billie got her wish despite the stares
Crys of why guys are there any let alone so many glutton button billionaires?
Not adhering to age old sage adage share if you've enough stuff to spare
Uncouth domineering untruths sold smearing sleuths as society tears
Sneering about profiteering mining shining spiting climate crisis scares
Cheering racketeering careering all about that flocks stocks & shares
Leering snares creatives gold left bereft fearing they're not their flair heirs
Persevering with cold jeering at hearing protests that then fold no one cares
Scold civic critics nearing the facts spearing by acts.. pacts & unfair flares
Cost of disappearing rare species now just pieces of faeces in their lost lairs
Searing temperatures rearing still somehow our despairs never even airs
Gearing up for the veering apocalypse peering as the sun stun gun glares
Must be bold steering pioneering derring do clearing these nightmares
Who dares volunteering to stop the interfering engineering by the billionaires?
No antihistamine can
unblock the lifetime
accumulation of stoppered emotional gunk
zapping, undermining, and polluting *****
mine early life in retrospective avast flunk
stripped mined wasteland qua sinkhole,
where eternal reverberations soundlessly plunk
inescapable deafening, and
blinding this targeted
"scapegoat" bullied by most every punk
wrathful verbal sucker punches,
whereby yours truly habitually shrunk
within himself, yet self actualization
predates how severe
introvertedness doth debunk
the penultimate prevalence that mean kids,
albeit cruel, fiendish, incriminating
ganged accomplices further sunk
this then boy careering
into an abysmal funk
crashing into bajillion pieces
with soundless silent thunk
pitching mental health
(actually entire self)
analogous to comatose
state losing a chunk
of vital growing up years,
when upon reluctant
commencement into early adulthood
debilitating chafing
against self destructive
(mailer daemon) nemesis did brood
apathetic degree of functionality crude
delivering punishing perception,
now this older dude
writhes with lament oft times exude
ding self hatred, especially during
critical years, I denied myself food
never reconciling how affliction
cost development good
and plenti stunted development,
when scythe ying grim reaper donning
trademark black hood
dee metaphorically pinned toothpick
lovely bag of bones fragile as breadstick
easily crushed by madding publick
crowdsource, that slip of a cowlick
my excruciating body electric
demolished with figurative flick
of wrist now shutters hermetic
vacuum sealed "prison" brick
an invincible fortified bailiwick
walled in invisible steely fortress
hardest and most resilient mucous thick
against any wrecking ball.
We are sitting at a table at the café by the station,
We are watching people passing,
We are guessing destinations.
We are waiting for our order,
Chatting mother with a daughter.
And we're talking of the old man
As he's waiting at the crossing.
We are wondering his journey
Of the route he may be taking -
A corduroy curiosity in his thin brown coat,
Plastic bags that carry string and other things of note.
Then all of a sudden, he is wandering our direction,
Charming and addressing us as “Ladies”,
Pretending he is thinking we are sisters,
Indulging him, we're happy to be listeners.
He has a sunny disposition,
Though he is saying of his vision
That his eyes are getting cloudy -
He must go see an optician.
And he's telling us his stories of his Sunday-ing allotments,
Hearing of his winning, echoes of past glories.
Cultivating prizes for the growing and the showing of his champions -
Centurion onions, parsnips gladiator,
Okra, bhut bhindi, coriander.
Then purposefully he's pulling from his pocket, from his wallet
A worn photo of a young man looking back at us.
His is sharing how they wanted for their boy they named Ishaan,
A boy, with his head in the clouds -
To be reaching for the stars and the sun.
Without pausing he is telling us scholarship was won.
Astrophysics he was studying.
Careering off to NASA, space systems engineering.
But Ishaan is soon returning
From the Californian dreaming -
Yearning to be grounded in the rhythms of the seasons.
Coming back to his roots.
Following the passing of his mother and reconnecting with his father
In the routines that are gardening.
Working quiet soils, where seeds are just beginning
As the world keeps on spinning.
To stand still awhile.
Then he is leaving, he is gone.
And in silence we are finishing our coffees and paying for our bill.
Feeling we have travelled,
Though, we were only sitting still.
I have an awful memory. It's sad.
Seemingly destroyed by that madman
Who, sixty-one years ago, pulled out
Without looking,and crashed into my car
Sending mine careering towards death.
Ha! I've got news for him, wherever,
I survived!
But you robbed me of some dreams!
Dreams that, like all memories, are passive
And cannot be completely lived again.
But it is the words... sixty-one years !
Who would have thought there'd be so many?
Amongst them, through the gaps pervading,
Are gems: Memories to be grateful for.
The tin box of silver thrupences
I hid beneath a floorboard in 1952!
Did anyone find it? Or did they rain
Down upon heads of demolition men
Like angel's tears at all destruction:
At things that should have aged and died
Naturally, in the most usual and intended way.
Gone tomorrow but here today.
© Allen Ansell 2024
Incomprehensible space/time continuum intrigues...
One insignificant, infinitesimal
incomprehensibleness cosmic speck,
who doth readily confess
swallowed within
infinite cosmic wormhole, nonetheless,
he feels mind boggled, fascinated,
transfixed... helpless to express
following concept suddenly
gripping his feeble mental compass.
I haint never gonna get
smart enough to understand
supposedly how universe
under contract to expand
subscribers embracing divine
intervention ascribe to invisible hand
cosmographical phenomena defies
garden variety *****sapien
understanding schema so grand
feeble analogy whereby
Neanderthal apt to understand
lingual mechanics predicated
I grammatically, markedly, pointedly...
exclaim with ampersand.
No particular reason nor rhyme
prompted contemplation
Einsteinian/ Stephen
Hawking concepts sublime
defy one average guy
way past his prime
ideal, optimal, universal... time
to fortify i.e. cognitive ability
brewing, immersing, steeping... gray matter
within astrophysicist clime,
now punishing ignorance mime
limited aptitude climb
stymied best taught during childhood
undoubtedly education pioneer - Haim
Ginott speculate would even
advocate buzzfeeding fetus
with intelligent boosting enzyme.
I chomp at the metaphorical bridled bit
and chafe not being genius like Trump pit
ing president (gag me with a spoon),
and lemme don pith helm mitt
this crash test dummy, whit
no shadow of doubt ready to quit
human race if said nitwit
nabs 20/20 election twit
tilling, spindling, mutilating,
fondling... constitutional sacred writ
issuing dynastic emperor gambit
hastening cremated ashes (mine)
launched into distant orbit
bajillion light years
careering, hopscotching, zipping
eventually reincarnated into runny Babbit
ironically enslaved for profit
blindly obedient dagnabbit,
indentured as intergalactic caddy
fired while under probation as apprentice
up Paul ling lee forced to exit
Sartre's stage door left sporting
embarrassing MAGA prison outfit
hustled away courtesy
as laughingstock exhibit.
Thus, I helm ship of state into black void
alone within cosmos, yes...overjoyed!
Armageddon wold be an amazing boon
to accompany ourselves amidst others in rubble strewn cocoon
or perchance an arid extra dry spell blows humungous dune
donning any brave soul to weather
fierce-some dust bowl appearing like a ghoulish goon
vis a vis via global sand man disallowing any inhabitant 2b immune
whereat autumnal days will mimic those analogous to tropical June
day where nary a species of flora nor fauna,
which latter muffled cry viz Claire de lune
barely heard above the blindingly pitched
(scoring major lunar home run) when earth's moon
appeared to be batted, snatched, and whacked -
piñata like casting darkness at high noon
this out of other worldly debacle
(viz: a scene of apocalyptic, cosmic and epic rune
from twilight zone re: outer limits offsetting
sole millennial Gaia satellite believed rigged forever) -
which end of planetary status quo came soon
er than expected, accompanied by Gustav Holst eponymous tune
once Luna rung seismically, titanic ally uprooted, violently wrenched
prior to crash landing at ground zero rocked and rolled out of orbitz
before careering, and screaming thru the atmosphere
analogous to a near full term baby in utero yanked out of womb.
though the above dynamic gigantic jack-knifed
nihilistic quantum spectacular universal wreckage
sans the inner sphere of solar system
(known to mankind, when said creature, an outlier)
whence even amidst the early
bipedal hominids that throve a sage
no event (whether natural or caused by human error),
would compare neither cap cha, when are bit rage
emasculated, and wrought onto the terrestrial firmament
no way to measure nor gauge
the depth, length, and scope of total and
absolute value eradicating any trace of simian equipage
reducing the arrogant, conceited, ego-maniacal, dotage
boot far-fetched science fiction phenomena would
witness civilization captive in their own technological cage!
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