Long Crash Poems
Long Crash Poems. Below are the most popular long Crash by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crash poems by poem length and keyword.
A rustling of digital leaves
in the binary breeze.
Odd fractals of ones and zeros
crash in waves of a subliminal sea.
Rotations of carbon and nanowires
collecting in my shadow.
Ghost of man-made reality
in matrices of ions.
The light of a binary universe in transit.
Coils of cool light drifting
through my Silicon Soul.
A leaf curves and descends
into decaying isotopes.
I feel the event horizon
of god’s information overload.
A rustling of skeletal circuitry
in a binary breeze.
All is not what it seems: odd filaments
of nanites and nanoseconds.
Feeling the rush of cold
in a binary breeze along subliminal seas.
I try to smile,
But the more I smile, the more my eyebrows curl.
Now I need to speak, but I don’t think I can speak without shouting!
I’m rocking a bit now.
Which is making the floor shift and creak and my chair is about to crash through the floor.
My eyebrows are furling and my fingers are curling.
And the furling is ugly and makes me look like an old lady.
I’m thinking and trying to create more time by thinking slowly and gently.
But it’s loud. My thoughts are so loud.
The room is getting more distant.
The walls are creaking in tune with the floor.
They’re looking at me!
The waiter, and my friends are looking at me!
They’re aging and furling and curling.
The garlic chicken.
Yes, the garlic chicken please.
And water.
Water always helps me.
And the moment is over.
There was a cake with twenty-one candles
Waiting for a match to make them hot
But his friends first took him to the neighborhood bar
To feed him his twenty-one shots
That cake with the twenty-one candles
Held a light that would never be shown
For they forgot to designate a driver
To see that they safely got home
The cake with the twenty-one candles
No one would ever eat
That knock on his parent’s front door
Was from the fist of the local police
The cake and its twenty-one candles
Ended up in the kitchen trash
Just one more fatality on the list
Resulting from the single-car crash
Please blow out your twenty-one candles
When your day does finally come
Having reached that milestone birthday
Make sure it’s not your last one
After the laughter, comes the pain-
our days are mixed with sun and rain.
Life is a steady weather vane-
forecasting clime we can't ordain.
Its pendulum does swing both ways;
unbalanced is its worth of days.
What brings us happiness, we praise-
but dread the shift to its sad phase.
The high-tide days are filled with glee
as waves wash out the shore debris,
again to turn- and we agree-
we reach low tide- just like the sea.
Our life is but a huge seesaw
some days, we're high, and filled with awe;
yet others make us clench our jaw-
as we crash down when life turns raw.
Laughter's not cherished without pain-
for pain does heighten laughter's gain.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: Strand Special 3
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 12/16/2019
~2nd Place~
Contest: One In Four
Sponsor: Joseph May
Judged: 08/25/2019
I remember it well that October night
Meteors aligned tipped like candelabra lights
I'm sitting in my outhouse under a hakka lantern
Yea, in Guangxi Province, pending storm concerns
Kinda spooky feeling magnetic electric zipping
Need to lay of the 'Jacks' feels like I'm tripping
It's like a potion to me, it brings me to likes edge
Thankfully the 'Moor' in me, saves me from the ledge
Wow, crash boom bang, thunder clap new, mun!
Blimey, bloody broom noisy, just like my neighbour
Erratic lightning laylines break open Eastern skies
Suddenly a shadow in the corner, and I ff'ing swore!
My legs aren't even moving but this misty fog lures I
Bleary eyes focusing at, at, this Succubus, she
On the Radio 'Wake me I am dreaming' by the 'Love Affair'
Minds guising disguising, just what is 'Jacks' streaming
I awake in the morn, wondering what went the night before
Elves, Goblins, Fairies or could it be the Jinn Genie!
Blimey if I was worth my weight in salt, I'd go to church
But if I told this story when younger, I'd sure have got the birch.
This weary world lives ups and downs:
Mad spiral swirls for smiles and frowns.
Laugh with comic and watch tragic,
Strange that mystic that weaves magic.
Tears in dry sand and pain for gain,
Prey to mad trends in crash that drains.
So much fragrance in rancid smells,
Watch elegance burn where you dwell.
Violent the times where mad men roam,
Now space and rhyme sift hollow foam.
Each to his own pursuit of ease,
Seeds once sown find fond increase.
Sense the disease of heart grown cold,
There is no peace where hate takes hold.
Happy the man who understands,
Who knows he can eclipse vain plans.
Leon Enriquez
24 April 2016
Singapore
Seething turbulent waters
Angry billowing waves
Ready to pound and crush
To pull under and punish
To churn and churn
And leave breathless
Gasping, fighting for breath
For LIFE
Angry...where once it was calm
Tranquil
Serene and deep
Oh, so deep
With treasures to be explored
With beauty to be seen
GRASPED
Felt and enjoyed
Now…..the storm is brewing
The waves cresting
Readying themselves to crash down
To obliterate
And exact revenge
For the sea is a force of nature
Not to be tampered with
It can mesmerize
It can allure and excite
Drench and envelope
With liquid euphoria
But it cannot be tamed
It WILL not be tamed
It will tame
Conquer
OVERPOWER
Devour and spew out
If not understood
If not appreciated
If not held in awe and respect
It can threaten one's very existence
And if it chooses not to destroy
It is sure to leave the foolish hearted
Lost
LOST at SEA
YES, I will leave you
LOST in MY SEA
Of ANGRY PASSION
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Faraway in a distant land hope grows
age of centuries battlefield of truth
a merry go around
cotton white kisses clouds
dancing joy blows them away
Warmly into paradise upon golden sands
lingering magic music chants an air wave floating
The harp plays on her spells as a violin tugs deeply lament
where the starlight bursts silently whisper silver lining
within footprints holding the temple of faith stand
Cross roads starts the balancing act advances forward
building blocks begins one step at a time
over oceans suffering beauty dwells inside
The salted spice cured pains only love
forever and always remains lingerings clarity
With the ashes of memories that never will die
breathing with the fallen stars dust smouldering aches burn
giving birth to a spiritual wisdom in another realm
rising waves crash and kneel to salute freedom's voice
falling on the seventh crest adoring salvation sings a lark song
within your charity bewitching time held precious heart Divine
Captivated by your heavenly vision appears a presence
dazzling diamonds stepping onto the plate to serve only you gracious
light of eternities flame burns brightly promising blue seals your gift
misted with angels tears rainbow over one bridge to cross
ties the knot inside forever joined miracle of the sun
Clothed by the radiance of a pearl's lustre
washed by the seabed sweet salt whitewashed
halo of a heartbeat's echo chimes deeply ringing
Sweetly from the thorns crowning Grace sits regal passion
silk warm petals of a rose ingrowing deeply flowers
touching a sunbeam's glow colours our destiny in which path we do take
If only I could ... go back in time and like a mystic change my life path with
a magic wand. So, many things I would do different, so many things I could
change. Back, back to my childhood and the day I watched my sister die on
the street. I would cry out loud for days instead of going quiet and keeping
everything within. And when I was being bullied in school as a teen because
I was different, I would stand tall a beautiful Ojibwe girl with black flowing
hair instead of hiding in corners. I have dreams of my Ojibwe origins ...
there on a high cliff
a horse of many colors ...
feathers in the wind
Like magic my baby would not die in my arms, my husband would not crash
his car. Mom and Dad would still be alive. Grandma would be rock, rocking.
My little brother would never have become a peacekeeper and come home in
a box ... but most of all I would embrace this great heritage of mine with all
my heart and soul and not be afraid to say I am proud to be one of The First
Nation People of Canada and I would shout it to the sky ...
a lone Ojibwe girl
gazes at the horizon ...
eagles soar and call
____________________
April 02, 2023
Poetry/Haibun/If Only I Could
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1536-879-02
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, This or That, Vol 17
sponsor, Edward Ibeh, Judged 04/27/2023
First Place
This Christmas, I don’t want snow.
I want to forget what happened a year ago.
I still had that old car.
I was going to travel far.
Until the crash came around.
I can still hear that sound.
This Christmas, I would like to have the confidence.
To drive my blue car further than that fence.
But snow has gathered on my windshield.
And I’m still cold.
Everything is buried.
I remember being carried.
The ambulance, the cries.
Feeling the gurney rise.
This Christmas, this Christmas, this Christmas…
A mess…
Snow, snow, and snow.
I know, I know, I know.
This Christmas, I got dice for my rear view mirror.
Fluffy dice- nothing to fear.
I miss driving past that fence.
It doesn't make sense.
The accident wasn’t my fault to this day.
Everyone is alive, that’s what they say.
This Christmas, my dad brought home a tree.
We took it off the car, and cut it free…
Cutting me free, prying the door.
I don’t want to leave the house anymore.