Long Deep end Poems
Long Deep end Poems. Below are the most popular long Deep end by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deep end poems by poem length and keyword.
Some people find the pool of love
And decided to dive right in
Before testing the temperature
To see if it's warm enough to swim
Some people lather themselves up
Just to lay out in the sun
As they watch all the others frolic
Wishing they could join in on the fun
Some pools are rather murky
So you must keep and eye on the sharks
Shallow or deep they'll take you off at the knees
For a closer advantage to tear out your heart
If you step out of the pool
After a swim in the deep end
Could you play the part of a wading fool
And jump right back in again
With no life guard on duty
To blow the whistle when you've had enough
You best be careful when you swim
In the pool of love
The screen door slams behind me
As I rush out into the blinding sunlight
Wondering where my big brother is hiding
I better get to the pool before he finds me
And throws me into the ice cold water
That flows daily into the pool
From the cold mountain streams
Of the Elbrus Mountains
I have my pretty pink flowered bathing suit on
My second skin
I smile as I remember someone calling me a dolphin
When she saw me swimming in the water
Now I can’t wait to get in again
I feel the prickly yellowing grass beneath my feet
As I run toward the weeping willow….
My favorite tree in the whole compound
First phase of the run complete
I head toward the ancient mulberry tree
How I hate the squishiness under my toes
As I trample them in this patch of green
Where the grass is protected by the mighty branches
Of this gracious tree that provides us
An abundance of luscious fruit
We gather every summer in big bed sheets
As people up in the branches
Shake the tree
I’m on my final leg
Almost there
A rebel yell
And my brother swoops down on me
From behind the tree
I scream as I try to get away
But he sweeps me up in his arms
And runs the last few feet to the pool
I shriek at the top of my lungs
Which will probably bring my uncle out yelling
Awakened from his afternoon nap
I want to go into the pool gradually
By degrees…
To get my body used to the icy coldness
And so I beg to be released
We are there
At the edge of the pool
One sweeping motion
And water splashes up in rainbow sprays
As I sink below
Down into the icy depth at the deep end
Thinking this time my heart will stop
This time I will turn into a block of ice
And sink to the bottom
I will drown
A lifetime later
I break the surface and see him smiling down at me
The one who taught me how to swim
My strong older brother
Who would rescue me in a heartbeat
If need be...
I smile up at him
As I break into a smooth swim to the other side
Happy that he didn't let me play the fool
Standing at the edge of the pool
Waiting to come down the steps
By degrees
Waiting
To get lost
Into this liquid paradise
Of azure blue...
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I lost a friend; Jason really loved his gin.
One night while he was on a binge.
He walked off into the deep end,
now no one has ever seen Jason again.
I lost a friend; his life was his duffle sack.
One day he headed to Iraq.
I didn’t know him when he came back,
well I guess Billy’s mind slipped right off its track.
I lost a friend; his name was old Stan the Man.
Spent two tours in Afghanistan.
Survived bullets and scorching heat,
just to come home and get shot down in the street.
I lost a friend; lived in a house on the hill.
Had two kids and a bag of pills.
One day they found her on the floor,
she’s not going to need those pills anymore.
I lost some friends; I only think about them.
Oh, once in a while, now and then.
Don’t want to seem harsh or unkind,
but as they say, they’re out of sight, out of mind.
You know that life is a very fickle thing.
Make the best of what it might bring.
We’re just a bright flash ‘cross the screen,
before we can blink… we’re just a memory.
In the list I saw a new contest, entitled "A Poem Please."
At first glance I thought, "Is this for real or just a tease?"
The theme for this contest was just periods-punctuation.
I'd have moved on except for contests I've an infatuation.
A string of five dots, seemingly a period after a period.
Hmm...Should I write in sonnet form, or an epic Iliad?
The challenge in this one is that I wasn't given a direction
of what to write about. It's in the hands of my discretion.
I know I've jumped off the deep end of the poetry pool
but if I turn back now, I'm sure I'll look like a silly fool.
I'm left wondering how to salvage such a pathetic start
of what could have been a poem about a broken heart.
Nah, I've written that scenario a time or maybe twelve.
Into that nether region I should no longer try to delve.
No awesome pissa will this ditty win for the likes of me.
But this PERIOD piece might make you laugh-wickedly.
NOTE: Prizes for this contest include the title of Awesome and a Wicked Pissa.
April 29th, 2016
No one gave us a roadmap,
no guide to navigate the twists,
the jagged turns of life’s unknown path.
They filled us with hope, with dreams, with promises.
Tales of a future, bright and clear,
a mirage that fades just as we reach for it.
Lies.
We whisper it to ourselves
as reality sets in.
Life, a test we never studied for,
yet we’re forced to take.
Dropped into the deep end,
flailing, fighting, drowning,
no lifeline to grasp,
no safety net to break our fall.
Our parents, worn, weathered,
cling to wisdom that no longer holds.
They came from a world where work was steady,
where machines didn’t steal jobs,
where effort meant security.
Now they depend on us,
but we have no answers to give.
We are sheep without a shepherd,
Lost in the storm of uncertainty,
Our steps faltering, unsure of where to go.
Answers slip like shadows through our fingers,
leaving us with only time,
heavy, unyielding time.
We improvise, we stumble,
writing our syllabus in ink and pain,
forging our path through trial and error,
through blood, sweat, and tears.
Life needs a memorandum,
a guide to show the way,
a blueprint for the lost,
a light in the dark.
Yet life offers no memorandum,
only questions left unanswered,
and the blind leading the blind.
Pigeon caught on a subway platform
bobbing in a landscape of feet
Escape cut off,
bobbing through risks
weaving clear of grinding boots
Liberated from nature,
pigeon transit-frenetic
like a novice in deep end swimming
no warning signs posted
A bird in need of rescue
from commuters who barely break
their stride
a tumbled push of bodies
Breathless souls in a hectic stake out
for metallic space
unfiltered anxiety
plundered sense of validation
no warning signs heeded
Beaked captives who rush the subway train
perpetually severed
from
their
wings.
Poem revised: March 23, 2021
Froggy went a courtin',
"Ribbit," he did sing,
altho' singing weren't his thing,
more like the punchline to a joke,
'Please don't smoke or I might croak.'
In the deep end of the pond
true love was his goal,
and by the dawn help to spawn
a few more tadpole souls.
Hopped on to a water lily
where he espied
a fine-looking froggy filly,
and in her mouth a red, red rose,
but wait, something's amiss,
one quick kiss and he froze...
just when he had it in the bag,
oh what a shame, ain't it silly,
our frogly friend hit a snag —
for the she was a he dressed in drag.
Tossed out into the deep end,
Well, at least I’ll make a splash.
My life passes before me,
Birth to death in one quick flash.
To float is not an option.
There is only sink or swim.
As the water drags me down
I look up and I see Him…
“Take my hand and do not doubt.
Do not fear, no need to shout.
There is wind and there are waves…
Take the hand of He Who saves!”
In following the pathway,
Well, I stumbled and I fell.
I feared and I distrusted
So, I went down in the swells.
I questioned all my answers
And then, to my great surprise,
A hint of understanding
As I searched and caught His eyes…
“Take my hand and do not doubt.
Do not fear, no need to shout.
There is wind and there are waves…
Take the hand of He Who saves!”
No doubt there will be mocking
From all those who will not see.
And derisive ridicule
From those who would envy me.
Don’t make me your example.
I still don’t know how to swim…
But I can tread the waters
Just by reaching out to Him…
“Take my hand and do not doubt.
Do not fear, no need to shout.
There is wind and there are waves…
Take the hand of He Who saves!”
Look into my revengeful eyes and stare at my heartless soul. My words I speak kill like acid and my touch will leave you in flames. Don't cross the path I made you will get devoured in one bite. Walking on black water and residing by the blood waterfall. I'm so toxic that poison is my champagne.
I dance with crows under the midnight blood moon, with the veil on my dress made of screaming souls. My head rest upon a pillow made of skulls and bones with a quilt stitch of bare flesh. I bathe in tears of sorrow of the weak and con confused while my enemies rest in my dungeon of pain. I send you to the deep end where you sink while your dreams crumble into my web of melancholy and no rest.
Form:
I hate beginnings, plenipotentiary prattle, use-
less sedimentary-sounds. A preface and first chap-
ter betwixt the suc-
culent kiss, the marvelous mystery unfolding.
wash your hands, bobbleheaded-yes.
that was the third part. typhoid
mary, not important to this quiz,
yet she opened the door and peaked
through. i slammed
it
shut, rolled my eyes.
how yummy pages
that jump into the deep end
and we drown in ecstasy’s eaglet
nest. eggs cracking cuckoos
collaborating.
long, drawn………..out
beginnings not
for
me
the setup goes on and on and
oh kind of like this steam
letting off
done
1/22/2021