Long Coursing Poems
Long Coursing Poems. Below are the most popular long Coursing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Coursing poems by poem length and keyword.
Veined whispers
floating
Coursing freely
releasing
Physically subjugated
creating
Cosmic reeling
exploding
Tempestuous yearning
drumming
Precariously woven
flaming
Passionately related
speaking
Metaphysical tounges
wagging
Scientific lifelines
swimming
Spiritual pathways
howling
Refutable rituals
shocking
Collective intensity
breathing
Abstract heartbeats
bouncing
Seering unregrettable
dreaming
Youthful precocious
swallowing
Backwards intelligence
submerging
Majestic depths
professing
Realities perspective
minding
Childlike curiosities
reliving
The blood that’s coursing through our veins
We see in random drops,
But most of it flows on its paths
Until the day it stops.
The neurons firing in our brains
Send information on,
Accomplishing their duties
‘Til the moment we are gone.
The muscles that each bone sustains
Enable us to move,
Though as we age, they slow things down,
With nothing left to prove.
The organs, set in their domains,
Perform without a pause.
They pump and filter, that despite
The damage that we cause.
Our bodies work through stress and strains
Without our even knowing
And when we die we never pay
The debt to them we’re owing.
2
Bourne loosely through the chill gusts,
Disordered fragments of summer's life go hurried by,
Harried to their last resting places
Into piles of brittle, browning drifts
Scattered on stiffening ground.
A cold sun, coursing ever more briefly
Across these hard, blue-white skies,
Presides above a sleeping landscape steeped in dying hues,
The last fanfare of the greens of life
Draining now into starkness
As nature sheds her flesh and slows
To pose in cold stillness between her cycles
Of life and death,
Waiting, now Winter's uncertain, barren bride.
In the house where the anger rang against the walls
Red thoughts of their minds have burnt away
To leave behind that sour feeling
That sinks to sorrow
Now pride has stepped in to break the bridges
Of charity they might have built back to one another.
Between them those virtues which bind us all together,
The formalities and incidents
The long parade of small things that make up a shared life,
Go on together as always, in smooth procession day to day
The image of harmony exists,
Though not its substance.
They know from this the weight of awkward silences
Falling between them now and again
Dropping like stones into the deepening pools
Of unspoken discontents forming in their hearts;
Ripples of sadness climbing in widening rings
To skim the surfaces of their speech
As breezes blown down through the sapphire sky
Tear the detritus of summer's corpse from its enfeebled moorings;
Fling the bits of yesterday's blazing beauty
Into pell-mell drifts against foundations, sills,
As spark-scattered frosts gather more thickly
With every lengthening night.
What causes discord amongst us
Diverse religions, lack of trust
Adversity coursing through our veins
And dogma embedded in our brains
We’re born so innocent and naïve
But disappointed, we do leave
The dearth of harmony and of peace
Will cause dissension to increase
Divergent races
Different cultures
Contrasting viewpoints we encounter
This leads to destruction
And turns to pain
So rivalry and hatred will remain
Let’s change misunderstanding
And let acceptance reign
Because we’re the same in eyes of God
And let humanity shine
There really is no difference
We all want the same things
Be good to one another
And kindness, this will spring
Waves of nausea crash against my splintering ribcage,
stomach churning, bile burning through esophageal walls.
Choking on paranoia-fueled delirium,
self-inflicted wounds etched upon a fragile psyche,
all while I try to hold on to some semblance of my humanity.
Push and pull, breaking down walls,
then building them back up, reinforced.
Love never came easy in delusion-filled memories,
always hovering at the cusp of fiction,
ready to strike like a coiled python.
Then, like glass, tears would cascade down,
begging for forgiveness.
Paranoia-induced hallucinations gripped my marrow again,
coursing through tainted bloodstreams,
blinding any sense of reason.
So life imitated drug-soaked nightmares
as my security slipped through calloused fingers once more.
While the rain pummels down against abandoned dreams,
I am haunted by you in this empty house.
Nothing but phantoms of the past roam
in the dead of night,
wailing in the deafening silence,
a requiem for my inner demons’ eternal torment.
Tho' I am but the sparrow's twining strains
The palette and the pen of whisp'ring souls
I'm sweeter, still, if dashed upon the shoals
Or bleeding from the hem of day's remains
Tho' I may weep from all a scoundrel feigns
For what each soldier's dying breath extols
It's grander, even, morning's meadow rolls
As spindrift, tossed upon the grassy plains
Oh, I am found the coursing thru all things
As warm within your veins, as sunset's sky
My constancy, to love and swoon and hate
To stir in hopes or see what passion brings
So guard me, close, or open me and cry ...
I'll bound and thrum and patiently ... await.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Open Me First" Poetry Contest, Craig Cornish, Judge & Sponsor.
you touch my skin,
and I quiver,
not from the cold wind outdoors.
oh, the warmth
of your healing fingertips!
it's all-consuming.
it soothes me
body and soul.
in your soft hands,
rumbling thunder of fever
in the climax of winter;
a sudden jolt of electricity...
that sets ablaze
neurons coursing
through my brain
inexplicable,
the strange yet divine feeling
that takes hold of me.
each touch,
a sublime sensation,
cap-a-pie; as if comfortably
wrapped in velvet.
you touch my skin,
and I quiver.
In daughter a river seen I had,
Wee bit homeward tried to wean I had.
It’s so hard to say goodbye to her,
With clenched fist, home lush green seen I had.
Her life sea-bound imagined I had,
A live stream beneath sun seen I had.
The banks looking bare, she coursing far,
Home, not so love-less lean, seen I had.
Eyes homeward, life marine seen I had,
Her journey riverine seen I had.
Heart anchored to the birth-bound old shore,
The rest turning saline seen I had.
____________________________
Musings | 27.09.2026| daughter, goodbye, home, river, Quatrain
Based on a Muktak (as under) in Gujarati by Darshak Aacharya: Along with two stanzas added in anapaest meter.
Dikree mañ meiñ nadee bhali hatee,
Aitle to ghar taraf vali hatee.
Dekree ne kem karavuñ avajo?
Dost, muthee aitale vali hatee.
The Strid
Get rid of the Strid with its seething torrent trapped amid the caves
In downward spiral coursing through a web of underwater stone
Oh that the river would have carved a safer way away from occulted potholes
Shame on its dogged passage that prefers the dangerous route
It could have chosen a placid path amid a tranquil retreat
Where solace is found amongst much safer depths
But retain the bowing trees that stand around and cast a shade
With hanging boughs for birds to alight and sing their song
Strange river that aspires to stream again to squeeze into the narrow
A tempting bubbling brook that bluffs its onlooker
Mere stride to other side in gleeful daring
That tests the balance on slippery verge and rock
And Strid becomes the stride to play the waiting game
Thus claim ill fated darers that slip into its frothy forbode
With smothering aqueous wings dragged into caverns
Where infinite to remain and forever retained
In a murky swathe of peaty chambers yet to be discovered
Where amongst its conquests a would be king
Rules amid the Strid’s palatial watery kingdom
Calling Captain Hindsight, where the heck are you?
The table booked for one-fifteen and now it’s ten-past-two,
The waiting staff are anxious, they want me to move on,
Their patience was exhausted as I sat buttering a scone.
I dawdled on arrival though the menu is quite clear,
I fiddled with my glasses whenever waitresses came near,
I nibbled on some poppadoms and slowly sipped my soup
But they’re keen to move this table now, to accommodate a group.
So come in Captain Hindsight, I need you on the line,
Just Tweet a cute emoji if you’re still a friend of mine,
You must be getting hungry, clear your diary, find some foods,
The hosts of countless phone-ins are simply spouting platitudes.
Is it really sensible to let our steelworks close,
Should Boohoo use slave labour to stitch our discount clothes?
Was breaking-up the railways a really mad idea?
Dare we book a holiday for May or June next year?
Reveal yourself on Tik-Tok or maybe Instagram,
This is no time to reject toys or throw them from your pram.
Laying-low is not required they need you on the news
There are many here among us who would gladly steal your shoes.
Just who imagined gantries over motorways were sane
When stranded vehicles occasionally block the left-hand lane?
Should crops be decimated by barbarians hare-coursing
As some tally-up donations from the firms they like endorsing?
The nurses and the warehousemen all need your sound advice
Without this there’s an endless risk they’ll run around like mice.
Public trust in newspapers will ebb away and lapse,
With schisms on the increase we need you to say “Perhaps.”
So please stay in our consciousness - like Robin Hood or Santa
Without your wise opinions, LBC* will lose its banter.
When the bar stools are in use again we shan’t know what to say,
So come back Captain Hindsight, please don’t go away!
* LBC is an English language radio station highly reliant upon telephone calls from its listeners. This poem was first published by Poets Unite Worldwide on 25th September 2021.