Long Castaway Poems
Long Castaway Poems. Below are the most popular long Castaway by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Castaway poems by poem length and keyword.
The soul is but a vast ocean of vigilance
Streaming with incresent colours towards life
Infinite within its parhelion possibilities
Relentlessly searching, betwixt the everflowing tides
Whereupon all things approach these providential probabilities
Of endlessly prolific visions thus beheld
Within the grasp of pristine pictures brushed and painted
Afore the overtures tubular bells; now sounding
Strewn, beneath the curatives silverish moon
Sirventes tunes, born, within fascinations bloom
These meant to be rhymes, amid Dorothy Gales times
Over somewheres prized amphoric rainbow
Arched imaginations, of fantasias floriferous creations
Breathing their pollinating light, within every breath that they breathe
Escaping the carcinogen caverns through torchbeared passages
Beyond the flesh rent falls and encumbering shawls
Carved crude, these animus meshed jackets
Encased within the chamber once laced
Unto broken bricks of concretes chained
Like Percivals plight....
Unmentioned between the lores, this wondering upon metaphoric shores
While barricaded by the calibrated stone engraved
Until antinomy could devise no more; yet
"If all we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream?"
Scream, and shatter these williwaws window panes
Awakening, beyond their oblique orbs of obscurities, void
To find 'The Holy Grail,' amid incarnadines blinding night
This veil removed, as clarity becomes now focused
Stepping from the shadows of the corners once webbed
Crossing, these sunsoaked sands of sunrises preached
With reaching hands, to touch the braille upon windings trails
Which only led back to the same gruesome pangs
Of a souls once upon a times, bound in maimed
Reading the writings on the wall, as cascading waters broke
The pinnacle of lost, tumbling and crashing to the reef
Belief, of a life breaking free from the dampened day
When faith became submerged beneath the assailant currents of
Hopes castaway possibilities....
Branded into their eyes, by the father of disguise
But no more as the clock struck three, and inversion, began to flee
Awakening from a dream, where nothing, was what it seemed
Dorothy Gales amphoric rainbow, draped upon a cross ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Percivals Promise!?
Form:
My muse is a poetic flower garden,
blooming lilacs in barren meadows,
but I still remember
how I heeded haunting heartbeats
in paradise, whilst praying
for your lustrous light,
to descend onto my hazy horizons.
Your eyes like captivating sunsets,
made me dream away,
recalling shells lost in a forgotten
coral reef, castaway upon
an elusive island,
where the paths have no name,
but the oceanic breeze
calls yours so softly.
I was killing time,
scribbling elegies
on distant musical shores,
where spotted eagle rays
and flying fish were my only mentors.
Nocturnal reef sharks unfolded tales
beneath lonesome skies,
illustrating a secretive stairway
that would lead me
to the scintillating stars.
Deep within my heart,
I knew in the darkest
night you are the light
that would illuminate
my breathless sighs
with blazing ballads
rewriting my fate,
reawakening my
need to thrive through these
endless melancholic monsoons;
surfing through vast oceans.
Your cosmic radiance pulled
this chocolate mermaid,
from the bioluminescent
ripples of sorrow,
empathising with
endless streams from
my volcanic mind
and harmonious heart,
which was in dire
need of healing,
from draconian depleted
ideologies imprinted within
a labyrinth of
narcissistic daffodils,
emanating deceptive fragrances
resembling the devil's disciple,
claiming me as nothing,
but a mere self
confessed queen
on a conquest to conquer
the uncontrollable calling
to a land of virtual hypocrisy.
If only they knew
I no longer desired
to rule a kingdom of
tumultuous pretense.
I was waiting for the
return of the butterflies,
tearing apart the fragile
walls of its cocoon.
I knew if Romeo did not die,
I would be living Juliet's desires.
I was a poetess
searching for
a purpose, with no sense
to shelter, watching the
last icicle
of winter melt away.
Truth deserves a narrative
that has no ending,
though I question the universe.
Where do the
lost poets reside?
Is it where the
moon chooses to hide,
disguising dreariness
within dazzling blankets
of dancing moonscapes,
or will this be how
this sleepless soul
seizes its faultless lunar tide?
Let me ride upon the crest of an aquatic wave, to spin and
Twist within the rippling tides, of the water spheres deepest
Ocean, allow this land creature to become as one, a liquid
Creature of complete fluidity, flowing with the currents under
Tows beneath the Mediterranean sun!
Liquefaction’s child of heaven’s tears, collecting in the ionosphere,
The shards of shattered meteorites, melting amongst the heated
Entry point of the earth burning atmosphere!
I’m just a day dreaming earth being, an inspirational beach
Comber of alternate thought, set adrift within the sails
Of human imagination, this illumined castaway of the
Enlightened, wishing to be part of something larger
Than the total some of my own physical make-up!
Let me be the thundering storm ushering the lightening
Flash to rock the timeless shore, beyond the infinite
Seas of reality, the sounding clash of the everlasting
Light echoing amongst the heavens vast divides,
Nay I’m just a humble mortal, inspired by the powers
Of beauty, a poet captured within the moment of
The rocking swell of a higher master’s masterpiece
Of utter perfection!
Let the rolling rock of the ages slide downwards
From the rocky mountain tops high, ever moving,
Smoothing its sharpened edge until it is perfectly
Rounded at its journey’s end, no moss shall I
Gather, for the rambler of humanities soul’s remains
Always In constant motions wake, this pondering
Drifter of life itself, wandering why I exist!
Let me be reflections after shock shooting at super
Sonic speed, slamming against an orbiting giant of
The universal realm, bouncing in a planetary ricochet,
Hell bound to return from mine own origin point of
Divine intervention, for it is here on earth I’m entrapped!
Let me feel the winds breathe of total freedom against
My bare exposed flesh, to become a spirit being set adrift,
An elemental child without form or shape, just a whispering
Echo blowing upon the breeze of the timeless air.
Oh I’m a spiritual foundling, seeking the meaning of my own
Existence, a motion of emotion, clinging to the mental framed
Shell to which I’ve been born, but the world is for the inspired
So here I’ve found my small niche in this great big universe,
A writer, a dreamer, and the poet bard of my own inner
Heart!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
.
I’ve been adrift on the sea, a lost soul of ideal inspiration
Tossed asunder amongst realities harsh waves of the incomplete,
A disembarked being, caught at the mercy of a thundering riptide
Of indecision, floundering, drowning alone, with no life preserver
To cling upon!
Rolling waves crashing against my bare exposed mental flesh,
I’ve know the deeply threshing under currents of the starving mind,
Of the uninspired, the de-mused, without imaginations glory,
An orphaned child without thoughts infusion!
Once I disembarked on a sinking craft, a vessel without sail or wind,
Ideally wondering having no true course, or no dead reckonings landing
Point of reference!
A voiceless refuge unable to scream for help, to and fro so did
I just rock upon the waves of homeless, and helpless,
In this self- inflicted imprisonment so did this castaway dwell,
In this empty ocean, alone mariner aboard a sinking ship!
But than a far off light shown, it burned at my blind eyes,
With such brilliance did it so shine, as if by a magic I
Couldn’t understand or comprehended, my tiny boat
Find its way into a safe sheltering port, many open
Hands reached out to this lost soul and pulled me
Upwards towards inspirations dry land!
Voices spoke gently unto me in the whispering winds
Of imagination, your free here, you’ve come home
At last, soar, fly be at peace now drifter, you are welcome
Here amongst thy kindred!
Standing at the dock of acceptance, I turned and watched
My tiny ship torn apart by the hurling waves of change,
Then I realized that many others were still left on this
Ocean of aloneness, and how lucky I was to find my
Way home at last!
I’ve found my place in this big old world at last,
Here where I can express myself,
Amongst others whom have excepted me for myself,
On this island called the internet,
In a cyber-family, amongst my friends and kindred,
I’ve finally come home at last, in a place
Mixed with diversities beauty,
In this poetry soup of humanity!
Here I’ve tried my anchor, no more a wander,
Just a voyager remembering, looking upwards
At an inspirational sky and finally able to bath
In the guiding wake of my own imagination,
And sharing it with others of my own poetic
Experience, thank you for the welcoming,
I’m home at last!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
/'d???g?l/ /'d??s.t?s/
That was what my dictionary
woke up to show me this morning,
Who made you one of this angels?
One is called /'d???g?l/ jungle and the other is called /'d??s.t?s/ justice like a league of legend ants feasting on a lonely trapped Carcass and Vargas.
Who made you a judge over criminals?
Light opens...
Our stories are gory to the ear,
If I decide to write them now
I fear my sight will become blurry
with tinted tears of mourning.
Mount your camera on a tripod,
Double your steps and hands
We have a story to make to the world.
Yells of vengeance has torn my belly!
Light fades...
Yesterday,
The first sight I beheld in the morning
Was a boy trying to free himself from
Gullible mobs in the street of Lagos.
Tears flooded his eyes as he pleaded,
His name became a political lyrics,
Lyrically, he was branded with metals;
Metals that took away his miserable life.
Light fades...
His body became a shadow finding home, running, walking and jumping.
He burnt into ashes as they lynched him
The petrol broke apart and tyre belched
Another soul roamed among the living
Inviting the eclipse sun in the noon.
His beauty washed away by the restless grief that held his bones together to bind
Light fades...
Capture the ghost of that girl running!
She was knocked down this morning
by a drunk driver finding ways to die
Capture her spirit and let's edit them all
The mobs Wont see how she died but they will linger to kill without thinking,
Who made them a judge by the way?
Remember, don't leave the ghost tears.
Light fades...
Now, follow that soul seated there?
She was one of the victims of Evan.
Have you seen her tears turned red?
Cut away of her legs must be filmed,
Clean up her face with your focus!
We're like the castaway treated like a plague, the house whose door has been stolen and we never knew until now!
Light fades...
What is your time?
we have Chelsea march by ten &
this deads may find home in the
air for the living to see how Arsenal
will be defeated in stampford to night
Tilt the camera up & see God' eyes
He watches from above about this
And he spoke not of it, then, who
made us a judge over all this crimes?
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent
Castaway :-
Long day…longer it gets…
with no hand at a distance,
grey skies, with glimpses of clouds
that traverse together, like a bound existence.
far off, in the sultry fields
a raw sight, of a damsel,
a women…or a helpless maiden
hardly could anyone tell.
dry eyes, with a wry smile,
and a piece of black drape,
it was all, that she wore..
to hide her visage, from people’s gape..
thin frame, and ghastly feet,
copper-like rough strands,
but face, with a rare angelic cut,
wearing paleness, she walked, in a trance..
barely there, but starkly felt,
from within a distance, of her feet
her riches…that she firmly held,
some rags…and a piece of paper…old but neat.
Wandering, in those, smothered lands…
She trailed on…over miles of sights...
a faith, in someone, and the words he spoke,
kept her going…through days and nights…
as the fiery sun, with the glistening moon,
And the melting snow of the glaciers,
Months came…and passed…like a blink
And our lady was seen…lesser and lesser...
Winter ushered, with its full vigor,
Painting those parched lands, with its charm,
Untainted and pure it looked, as a sacred hymn,
Sung by a preacher, like a soulful psalm.
One such misty morn, as it was to be…
Blades of grass…still fresh with dews,
Wrapped in the pall, of countless blossoms,
There she lay, cold and stiff, in the morning hues…
Aged enough, when the day was,
Folks came…with melancholy on minds,
Someone saw, a thing, subtly hidden…
A letter it was, one of her riches, of good ol‘times.
It smelled of nothing, but selfless love,
That she bore, in her bosom, for her man,
Who promised, taking her along, upon his return,
The fateful letter, said it all, in a leaf’s span…
Tears weren’t enough, to mourn her loss,
All who came, knew it too well,
She came with nothing, but left with a lot,
Her memoirs, too poignant, stayed like a witch’s spell.
Buried she was, in heart of the earth,
As a dead log, that rots in the backyard,
Harsh a message, her death did foster,
That, people truly ‘fall’, in love, like a pack of cards…
As Mother Nature, has always had it,
Another long day, came to an end,
The world went on swiftly, on all its fours,
Camouflaging itself, with a blissful ignorance...
In the labyrinth of thoughts, where the soul and mind intertwine like the vine,
A dance of shadows and light, where memories whisper like the wind through leaves,
There lies an abyss, deep and wide, like an unexplored ocean,
A realm where reason and emotion collide like falling stars.
The heart and intellect, in an unending ballet, like two twin spirits,
Each step a testament to the battles of yesterday, the storms within us,
Some lose their minds, yielding to the embrace of the soul, like a butterfly in flight,
Drifting into madness, a sanctuary, a sacred place like a forgotten temple.
Others forsake their soul, clinging to the vast domain of the mind like a castaway to a raft,
Becoming incarnate intellect, in the cold, unyielding reign of logic like an ice fortress,
But in this realm of reason, where feelings are kept at bay like ghosts,
They find themselves lost, in a world of endless gray, like a dream without color.
There are those who lose both, in the struggle to be whole, like a leaf in the wind,
Accepted by the world, but fragmented in their soul, like a broken mirror,
They walk the earth in shadows, neither here nor there, like bodiless shades,
Lost in the interval, in a state of quiet despair, like a lost echo.
And then, the few, who never taste the madness of the heart, like unyielding rocks,
Who live their lives in balance, each part a separate art, like a self-contained painting,
What dreadful existence must they lead, devoid of ecstasy and pain, like a field without flowers,
A life untouched by chaos, in a banal world, like a story without beginning or end.
Oh, to be mad, to feel the depths of every tear, like a rain of stars,
To dance with joy, to tremble with every fear, like a leaf in the wind's breath,
For in the madness of the soul, true freedom lies, like a sky without limits,
A journey through the cosmos, under the infinite heavens, like a dream without end.
Thus, let us cherish the madness, the eternal quest of the mind, like a sacred pilgrimage,
For in this dance of shadows, our souls are truly blessed, like hidden treasures,
Let us lose ourselves and in losing, find our way, like a river finding its sea,
In the beautiful chaos, where both heart and mind stray, like two wandering stars.
The soul is but a vast ocean of vigilance
Streaming with incresent colours towards life
Infinite within its parhelion possibilities
Relentlessly searching, betwixt the everflowing tides
Whereupon all things approach these providential probabilities
Of endlessly prolific visions thus beheld
Within the grasp of pristine pictures brushed and painted
Afore the overtures tubular bells; now sounding
Strewn, beneath the curatives silverish moon
Sirventes tunes, born, within fascinations bloom
These meant to be rhymes, amid Dorothy Gales times
Over somewheres prized amphoric rainbow
Arched imaginations, of fantasias floriferous creations
Breathing their pollinating light, within every breath that they breathe
Escaping the carcinogen caverns through torchbeared passages
Beyond the flesh rent falls and encumbering shawls
Carved crude, these animus meshed jackets
Encased within the chamber once laced
Unto broken bricks of concretes chained
Like Percivals plight....
Unmentioned between the lores, this wondering upon metaphoric shores
While barricaded by the calibrated stone engraved
Until antinomy could devise no more; yet
"If all we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream?"
Scream, and shatter these williwaws window panes
Awakening, beyond their oblique orbs of obscurities, void
To find 'The Holy Grail,' amid incarnadines blinding night
This veil removed, as clarity becomes now focused
Stepping from the shadows of the corners once webbed
Crossing, these sunsoaked sands of sunrises preached
With reaching hands, to touch the braille upon windings trails
Which only led back to the same gruesome pangs
Of a souls once upon a times, bound in maimed
Reading the writings on the wall, as cascading waters broke
The pinnacle of lost, tumbling and crashing to the reef
Belief, of a life breaking free from the dampened day
When faith became submerged beneath the assailant currents of
Hopes castaway possibilities....
Branded into their eyes, by the father of disguise
But no more as the clock struck three, and inversion, began to flee
Awakening from a dream, where nothing, was what it seemed
Dorothy Gales amphoric rainbow, draped upon a cross ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Percival's Promise!?
Form:
Herons fragment the mist,
appear and disappear while remaining motionless.
The skiff rocks as a coal barge trundles past.
A dewy sky shivers.
Nowadays he just sits in a boat looking at Ohio.
This morning the sun reached the top of a willow
and got stuck.
He rowed toward the bank thinking to get under the tree,
filled an imaginary pipe full of tangy river smoke,
sucked on the wet air
as he watched the tree struggling with the sun.
For a while it was a tussle, then the willow shook itself
and the sun slipped away like an unmoored ketch.
At first, the sun just hovered like a blanched balloon
then it found a window above the mounded smother
and it rose up like a Choctaw bass
about to mouth a trill of small fry.
He was near to the shore now,
Ohio slanted down to meet him
cattails and reeds scratching the aluminum hull.
A couple of mallards jumped out of nowhere
and flew over his eyes. The clatter of wings
ruffled the chill bank where a dank light had sunk.
His mind followed them for some time
until they settled deep down
amid a wraith-wrapped Kentucky.
A heron slowly rowed the wind
stirring up the vaporous air, Patches of clarity
drifted across sky-high filtering puddles.
Ohio becomes a river town, the huddled houses
have scuttled their roofs upon soggy pathways.
The mossy hulks of an abandoned industry
wallow in a foggy backwash.
Castaway wharfs drip a spatter and smear,
a hand me down script of a yesteryear.
A small blue-collar marina,
beer cans roll on swaying pontoons,
a couple of dry docked rowboats
and canoes.
Truck tires thump harbor chains.
Someone is up early, someone else watches him
gut and clean a large flathead.
On the damp dock cats circle the bones and scales
creep through the miasma
their fur wet and glistening eyes flashing a liquid silver.
The catfish is naked and shorn of the river
a thing to be watched least it return to life
as something beyond the ken of cats and fishermen.
On the ramp he hitches up his straggling life
and drives away from a berth awash
with the haunted cries of Loons and Redtail’s.
Soon he will be back in the patched-up pockets of Ohio
where corn husks snag hoarfrost and rattle
in a fresh rinsing breeze.
ELOQUENT GEMS
Part 1
Been told I wrote an eloquent gem,
So here we go again, in this game that's needs to be renamed,
Intervened by dreams and quoted, far fetched but relevant preached quotes,
Ya read them and hopefully awoke stoked and provoked by what ya reading,
Exercising the power of fluent, forceful, and appropriate speech and some,
To teach this narrator purposeful and adequate ways to reach ya,
Reaching every one, everybody engaged, but seeing brings anger and outrage,
Instead you disengage and exchange for more delusions,
You’re back staged, illusions are here to stay and covers the rage,
Wagging a war, you foresaw the age of the future, confusion played,
Upgrade your software, I saw a decade of the super computer, the renegade,
We are all slayed and dismayed by this program, state this and never fade,
Inner Man made man within a quantum system generating under laid grenades till this day,
Ok, today are you afraid, a castaway that outstayed their stay and didn’t feel welcome,
You just got told, so unfold what sold you out, without a fake mold you hold as YOU,
You think you are you? You really do, don’t you, you do! Help!!!....
Few see and meet the inner self,
Even fewer know the inner voice and align with it,
It’s where the real wealth resides with no movement of a mouth,
With stealth controlled emotions, no speaking,
Finally waking up from sleeping,
Removing thoughts of corrosion,
From your mental conceptual health,
You're never seeking stories of wisdom along with real spiritual self-help.
I'm a man with Solomon’s devotion, yeah this is consciousness evolution,
Dam am I possessed, best be checking if I have a demonic spirit?
I ran from you did I? Lies!!! My mind flies higher than yours, your nowhere near it,
Your unfit to even come close to me, your lies will die with no stories to follow,
Your future stories die and didn’t play out in the past, time starts to travel fast,
At last I see a vast array of the distant past, seeing through the hour glass, I master this craft,
Your floating away, fast, slowly, fast slowly, no consciously aware natural flow, your actions don’t show........
To be continued.........
Quincy Mac
date written: 5.12.2015