Long Deluge Poems
Long Deluge Poems. Below are the most popular long Deluge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deluge poems by poem length and keyword.
Un-revelling Rivalry
Who am I to speak of historical rivalry I cannot contest
all the clever myriad truths conjectures and refutations
about the two masters the two foes with huge presence
when history acclaim appreciation is subjective personal
up front and back stage up all artistic ins downs and outs
My parachute helicopter mind wants to give first prize to
to Leonardo for free flying inventive rebellious mind and
he helped me with anatomy dissecting corpses and all I can
still smell fragrant formalin preserving miraculous tissues
when I had to learn those medical terms and cut into flesh
But then Michelangelo shares my middle name though I am
no angel but who can proclaim that I may never be biased in
associate vein in quite shallow post-post-modernist anticipation
when the great man also painted in narrative personification
Deluge Drunken Noah Creation of Adam Madonna and Child
Okay family man that I am I resort to holidays with my children
and am so sad to admit that we never so far made it to Rome
sacrilegious or not but how could I pass The Last Judgement
when seeing Sistine Chapel’s altar would alter the verdict
of Ignoramus with leisure time spent on Normandy’s beaches
Well now I recall that trip to Euro Disney when we walked
from Tour Eiffel to the Louvre where I temporarily lost my
little boy Moritz and almost my temper when the devious villain
hid from the artwork was sulking because the Mona Lisa was
so small and he was so tiny could not see amongst masses of
tourists the smile and metaphorical writing on canvas and wall
So in all earnest while giving a toss I could-would have to resort
to tossing a coin in regards to whom why how and whenever the
rivals could measure up to history my history my story and life
Even and because of my whacky literal critical stance and my
stanzas bordering on mockery heresy subtle subjectification
you must remember that I have one tongue and two cheeks
And while seemingly ridiculing an important theme of historical
prominence I still bow in awe admiration yet lodge my own angle
perspective whereas the two grand master’s problem was not
what I would behold in my eyes and my soul in full radiance but
that they chose not to consider each others contrasting beauty
as compliment complement Leonardo Angelo Michel Da Vinci
01st September 2016
The rain keeps coming,
Masking tears of despair, and rivers of agony
Seem in no hurry to crest
In this orb that is my world, I stand in frozen animation
As I listen to the venom of tangled tongues and crooked lips
Then hear the critique of the man in the street
I stop to analyze and find that nothing is said, just a horde
Of ghastly lies
My heart grows heavy, and my chest tightens.
As anger builds, my lungs feel the fire of the now forsaking
Breath, the pain is real,
And I contemplate my fate
In this world of mine
The sun is sad and the moon weeps,
And the walls inch closer.
As my neck plays a melody of twisting knots, my shoulders
Feel as if stomped by the passion of a flamenco dance.
As my temples lament the torment of this harrowing crescendo.
From a place called malice and rage, hate and contempt
Send bouquets,
But in the glory of this floral splendor, lies deceit,
The bewitching fragrance of the day.
And serpents of a human Ilk, their minds filled with disdain and
Spite, come to feed upon my life,
As their minions nibble,
I question my sanity
In this world of mine
Is the theatre of suffering,
Where shadows of rage cloak, a dominion of corruption,
And evil keeps a watchful eye,
And vultures with hearts bitter and cold, stalk,
As if waiting for a carrion to be born, that a feast may begin.
And in this presence of immorality,
Void is the integrity of soul.
As I listen to the wind, I hear the voice of purpose,
And in the verses of the night, Is the message of the day
And the lessons taught,
Are real
In this world of mine
As this deluge of decadence baths a candid soul,
I strive to be freed, from the afflictions
Of being.
And amid the craving for contentment, I beg,
For deliverance,
And rest my fate at the foot of the mountain, for there
Lies truth.
In my meditation, eager I am to see behind the light
And reconnect with the presence within,
For it is there that I hear the sunshine in your voice,
And see the laughter in your eyes.
It is there that courage is present, and I am fraught with the
Effervescence of your smile,
And your face is vibrant
And passion enriches me,
And I, am reborn
In this world of mine
Earl S. Jackson
July 2014
Copyright © 2014 Earl S. Jackson, all rights reserved.
Oh gosh, another tragedy.
The news of Libya
Shatters the world.
Storm Daniel brings down
The first dam wall.
Water hurtles
Towards the second dam wall,
Breaching it from the
Pressure, it breaks and falls,
Flooding the river which broke
Its banks and swept in a
Devil like, sweeping, horrific
Water mass into the
Town of Derma.
A nightmare of a situation,
Which broke all communication,
As bridges washed away,
Electricity no more,
Destroyed by the angry
Torrent, consuming everything
And everyone in its path,
With a determined wrath.
Eventually flowing into the sea,
Which in turn spewed
Out bodies rapidly,
And relentlessly.
What a terrifying night
As people died,
Leaving behind their loved
Ones to grieve, if they could
Find, or identify the bodies.
The town was leveled
To the ground, and
As Storm Daniel ceased
Its roaring
And drowning,
The living wailed,
And cried
And screamed,
Living each moment again,
Such sorrow.
Dear God, give them strength
To face the morrow.
They search for a sign of life,
A husband lost his children, his wife.
The red cross came,
Doctors, medicine, and nurses,
Volunteers tying to grapple,
And cope with this tragedy,
They climbed and scrambled
Over debris and mangled,
Bodies, Muddy water,
Cars that were smashed,
Homes that water swept
Through that were bashed,
By an enormous giant like monster,
A furious force of uncontrollable
Charging water.
The helpless prayed
Lifting their arms up high,
Towards the heavens
In the sky,
It was not their time to die,
Yet some hoped they had,
As the pain of knowing,
Their loved ones had
Suffered and now dead,
Would be a lasting dread.
People by the thousands
Became homeless, the
The number of the dead,
In the town of Derma
Was Unfathomable,
And Unimaginable.
They wandered aimlessly, in a daze.
Could they come to terms
With what had happened.
The survivor’s strength,
Would come only as they
Rallied together.
You must do that dear friends,
Rather sooner than later.
God bless you all, the world
Grieves with you,
You are incredibly brave,
Let all your good memories
Surround you now and forever,
And see you through
This horrible reality, a nightmare,
Think of the good times
Your heart and mind will remember,
And will slowly and slightly repair.
She storms into the room
there is fire in her eyes
and thunder in her step
rage rumbling reckless
She's livid
a live wire of fire
charged
She's on the move
To punish
Is it a rumor or reality?
He has explaining to do...
She rushes at him
Pounding on his chest
words pent up all day
rush out in deluge
drenching him
he tries to pin her hands down
to make her understand
to undo this "misunderstand"
but she pushes him
her pride scorching him
her eyes sparking
passion raging
~~~R*A*G*I*N*G~~~
He pushes her against the wall
pins her hands above her head
"Listen to me!
You got it all wrong!!!"
she pushes against him
breasts heaving
legs kicking
and he's inflamed
her passion burns him
combusts in his mind
and he crushes her with his body
she bites his lips
as they close over hers
he loses his grip
her fingernails dig into his bare chest
trails of red
Growling in pain
He forces her....
kicking and screaming...
down to the floor
Pins her again
"Listen! WOMAN!"
She looks up into his face
breathless
and he goes for her mouth again
Taking her lips into his mouth
sucking fiercely
his tongue tames
fierce...his need to possess
to claim
She fights to free her hands
and they are on his neck
Pulling him in...in
Her lips respond in like
his hand finds her hair
leverage...a grasp
he pulls to expose her neck
And he attacks
kisses...bites...His revenge
His innocence turned to intensity's indignation
she sighs...she moans...
the sounds goading him on
As he loses himself in her cleavage
licking up her perfume
His favorite scent...
sensuous sexy sweet
the storm is fever pitch
in a flash of lightning speed
He lies her bare
and thunders in the thighs
she opens for him...wide
eyes closed
she bites her lower lip
to muffle her cries
as he rides....rides
His victory ride of righteous pride
and she's left
breathless...spent
in a storm of tears
released...repentant
of her insane jealousy
the storm passes over
and in the stillness
he speaks...
his voice shattered...weak
in her presence now calm
meek
"Your anger is beautiful
your rage my relish...
but now...come,"
His voice a whisper
as he pulls her in to him
"Come into my arms
and know the truth....
You're my one and only
My Passion STORM
Is YOU....YOU
Serenity...is overrated."
In an Asia city, a new and infamous name began.
“They were called Christians first at Antioch”.*
This species was built upon relationship with its maker; and not disconnection from him.
She fulfilled and bridged the past with the present and all eternity.
Same creator, same designer, and same planer of all species.
For six days He created everything that was made; and then He rested.
Later, there was a world wide deluge; and things were altered; most destroyed.
Generations would transpire before God created a totally new breed of creatures*.
This new species called Christian, was not made from nothing. But being made a new type of human, she would become the new model for all. What a remarkable and revolutionary concept! How different from every human before!!
This species is essentially about loving, not 50/50, but 100% unconditionally.
She’s about giving and not taking; about giving out of love; and not for personal gain.
She finds life through death; she has no room for hate.
No, this new species cannot procreate; but there’s reproduction by proclamation.
She propagates loving God with all the heart; and loving the neighbor as one’s self.
Yes, she’s a new kind of species!
03312016 Acts, Cor. 5:17 (PS Contest,
A New Species, by Anthony Slausen)
A thought, a nightmare, a dream; and what does it all mean?
Perhaps its meaning hides inside the clouds and reveals itself with the outpouring of rain that often comes with a flooding deluge of pain.
Anyway, last night, I had a dream. I cannot recall most of my dreams, and a few of them I can never forget. This dream was about friends of mind whose names I shall alter and call them Grant and Justine.
In the dream, they created a secret recipe and made a tasty carbonated beverage. I'm no food expert, but they sought me out for a taste test; and I found it to be a most refreshing drink with a very soothing quality.
Their drink had the ability to immediately capture one with suspense upon contact with the tongue. And it had a smoothness that, in a flash, released a taste so pleasing and subtle. I highly commended them on their new product and bade them the speed of God.
And again I ask, what does it all mean? I cannot be for certain, but it occurred to me that we often face situations that are rather suspenseful and hold a ton of questions with so few answers. I sense that if we remain poised, calm, and prayerful, the outcome will give birth to or release a taste from heaven with the touch of Almighty God.
09042017PS 2nd Contest, Dreams, Nayda Negron; Contest #330, Brian Strand
War World II was raging over this
southern Italian town* spared by a miracle...
a deluge that suddenly occurred:
a night of blasting sounds, of rising flames
as American planes bombarded its buildings;
the Nazis fled to occupied Naples.
In the North, the Fascits were executed,
as the Dictator Mussolini himself was.
The farms could not be furrowed deep and neat,
fear hung over the farmers' shoulders;
and wheat couldn't grow abundantly to make bread,
and brazen women to a distant granary they went,
risking their lives to grind the wheat kernels;
they were no young men in town, or the older ones
who had gone to war for a concept so deceptive.
Many youngsters and soldiers were kidnapped by the Nazis,
to be taken to Germany as prisoners of war...who would have
challenged the Third Reich, or disobeyed?
Old women with handkerchiefs on their heads, weeping loudly
and mourning the tranquil town it once was...so lovely and happy,
and their cry was too bitter and inconsolable to be hushed;
now, even bread was taken away from them,
damning the cruel Duce, who had betrayed them for vanity...
why did he bring prosperity to Africa, not to Italy?
Why was his ego so manipulated by Hitler's cleverness...
that he could have conquered peoples and lands?
Ruins and dead kindred...a scenery of dread and abomination,
and the lively memory of begonias on their sunny balconies
brought a sweet nostalgia in an hour of horror and death;
and gathered among the crumbled walls, their rosaries
recited with graceful whispers, gave them
the strength and the courage to desperately grieve:
"Peace, o beloved peace, have you overlooked
the kindness of such humble and honorable spirits?
Darkness brought the silence they had sought under the glittering skies,
to hide the ugliness of the war in their gloomy shadows,
never to reveal the devastation of their town;
and with the new sun rising, hope would have been
renewed in the sunrise's lasting glow.
They would have seen those wheat golden kernels
bend under their heavy weight and bow....
and heard themselves saying," Mercy, o mercy
of our righteous God, let prosperity abound...
as the misty rain slowly comes down!"
Southern Italian Town: Baiano
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
As little child walked in the field of flowers,
Picking and smelling them as she grows,
The pervading air fragrance of Guava
The majestic mellow Mangoes too in wet season,
The atmosphere of green garden eggs,
Caressing melody of crunchy carrots cracker,
The hidden colours of pineapples,
Bulb of yellow oranges lighted the line green trees,
Would be in season all year, including rags to
riches filling Maize
And pods shelled nourishing beans,
Surging umbrella leaves of papaya,
Shallow rooted coco-yam,the variegated
lettuce that brightens everyday,
With the crowded bananas are growing everyday,
But now,they are in wet tins and dry cartons
For that very busy mankind.
The landscapes within are beautifully measureless,
The Jacaranda and Tamarind trees had cast
Their shadows on the plain, and not forgetting,
The Silk-cottons and the wilderness of palm fruits
That grow tall and sure,
And under them we played cracking out nuts and
eating them,
But now, elevated long balcony, we have
That you stand and weep of the passing phases.
The sepulcher we all grew up in,
Might not be the same dungeon now,
And the cradle you are born in
Could well be the same abode now,
Thatched roof has given birth
To corrugated reflections,
Likewise the fragile asbestos fight for space with concretizing flat,
The mud debris has turned to bricks and plaster erect;
New galaxies of dwelling and scattered
About in a festival of designs;
Some are like an octagonal
A cone, a triangle and spec angular façade yet unseen;
All glasses, cupped and straight down
Like the eccentric mansions in heaven,
The spec tropic clime had turned suddenly,
The wind blows and smell of change,
The sun blaze down on man and space and warned,
Of great consequent yet in the
Outer-atmosphere would burst,
As we are cuddly warm
The poles wildly discharged their zillion captured
Water in a spasm of deluge right upon us…I think,
Like urchins, we fumble forgetting the next hour,
But what would happen is nature’s raison d’etre;
Man and his environ scope both have shibboleth gone pathways
And fast we are turning into artificial humankind.
Wisdom and understanding do raise their voice
On the stands beside the paths they yell that you make a choice;
At the gates of bazaars both do cry hoarse and loud,
And wonder how orderly the world would be if all fools vowed
To live according to their simple dictates,
And leave all evil and unwholesome tastes.
When shall the simple gain understanding and prudence,
And the unknowing embrace a life of sense?
The Almighty detests deeds devoid of reason,
For His perfect nature is never perverse
But just and fair in His rule over the universe;
He thus like Him wants all men to be
For nothing short of this can His heart please;
Not even valued incense offered my men of hearts remiss!
Choose understanding over quick silver
And understanding over choice gold;
All who these chose in the world of the old
All possessed and lacked not a single thing,
For nothing desirable can be compared with wisdom;
It is the ferocious guard to watch your home,
And your delicious meal in the face of hunger!
Fear the Lord and hate all evil
And it shall not destroy your grain any weevil;
Hate the perversity of crooked and warped speech
And among men of sense carve yourself a niche;
Let counsel and sound speech be yours
For these alone are limitless power
To wield for help in the need's hour;
When troubles and adversities betide,
Wisdom is a sure place for you to hide.
In wisdom are enduring honor and prosperity,
Truest valor and freedom from all forms of temerity;
It's the only scape from all shackles that engulf,
Amnesty from all follies that grind!
They rule with justice and without fear of overthrow
The wise kings and princes who fear the Lord,
Who marked the boundaries of the seas
And demarcations of the dry world!
He who fixed the clouds and the firmaments,
Has with Him all treasured endowments;
Blessed be those that keep His ways
And many shall be their days
That hearken to His wisdom,
Obey His decrees plain and clear,
And His hallowed name fear!
Be not beguiled by the cacophony and the hubbub,
The law of the Lord remains unshaken and superb;
And the fear of the Creator remains the only refuge
In the face of disaster and drowning deluge!
Somewhere on this pretty planet,
There is a heart made of granite,
Indignation its pulse would take,
The soul’s machine fear'd trust too fake.
On righteous wings glory’s noose,
Hangs the head of war’s best muse,
Her eyes befit the worst of times,
The look, the stare defies all rhymes.
Reaching into forgotten tales,
History chose armored males,
Dusty tomes on hidden shelves,
Books in tongues for tiny elves.
Here’s to He who broke the bread,
A promise too many came instead,
Land so fertile flowers swooned,
Food to heal the people’s wound.
Abundance wreaks what dreams deny,
Riches breach thy neighbors cry,
Winds begin like soft whispers pass,
Fear the tempest that might amass.
No one heard the approaching storm,
The blind saw not the eyeless worm,
Man’s great cities it came to breed,
A pathos so hungry it began to feed.
The poor of mind hailed this time,
Its witless soldiers stuck in crime,
But this was no Christian phase,
Powerful waves, everyone pays.
Morning took hold, the sky was dark,
The bow was bent and knew its mark,
A book of facts, a thousand lies,
Verse so deep frozen beauty cries.
With thunder’s yoke rains wash took hold,
On tides ebbed out went all once old,
Upon spring flowers hope took turn,
Lime and ashes make death’s love yearn.
Once the deluge heavy airs broke,
Weeds and vermin went with a stroke,
Poison and bile, cancers two friends,
Fell to the grounds hungry amends.
Trees laughed loud and grew their hair,
Opulent green color’d the air,
The crowds were gone, the coast was clear,
Butterfly songs for all to hear.
Know you man’s hopeless devices,
Always waiting for a crisis,
To stick a sword in another’s heart,
Man’s most pathetic lost dead art.
Wolves and tigers follow no rules,
Never betting on prudish tools,
Blaming not the world as given,
Their jaws obey love’s laws arisen.
Eons ago a vow was made,
Years before words lost to trade,
The path before you poets know,
Only your heart can make life glow.
Pointed fingers hide three blind mice,
Beware of crowds and mob’s advice,
J’accuse writ large holds guilt away,
Thumbs up to She who holds her sway.