Long Distance Poems
Long Distance Poems. Below are the most popular long Distance by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Distance poems by poem length and keyword.
Through her window,she could see nothing in the clear blue sky.
Its deep colour was reflected in the calm waters
Of the estuary which spread out in the distance.
Even the normal busy shipping traffic
Seemed to have been lulled to sleep this hot summer afternoon.
There would usually be the sound of ships' horns
Out in the Elbe as they signalled for the lock gates to open.
Water was calm, sky was calm.
It felt to Petra that she was looking at a painting where nothing
Was really alive but only replicated in oilpaint.
The ever-growing buzz in the sky was the only indication that the scene was real.
Others had heard the sound as well.
Like hundreds of bees, but these had a special sting
The temperature was high and it was very dry
There had been no rain for some time. Now there was a rain of bombs.
Petra saw the explosions through her window before she heard them
In the distance as the skyful of B17 s unloaded their cargoes.
Petra and her little sister were terrified, struck immobile in fright.
Their window bellied in like a giant glass balloon suddenly over-inflated,
And jagged, face-ripping shards of glass snarled across the hall
And embedded themselves in the cushions of the sofa.
The woolly innards of the cushions spewed out,
Dangling lifeless from the slash-wounds.
Luckily the girls were not cut.
Suddenly, the whole area became one big fire
With air being sucked in with the force of a storm.
Fires joined together, temperatures rose to melting lead,
Wind speed picked up to hurricane levels,
Trees were hurled into the flames, furniture, cars, even people hurled in.
Fire trucks unable to get through roads blocked by rubble.
Dying by carbon monoxide poisoning
When all the air was drawn out of their basement shelters,
The shelters were filled, but few people were really alive.
And then it was over. As the exploding fireballs gradually died away,
The drone and throb of the buzzing B17s faded off
To the blue sky of the east, to torment some other part of the city.
Walls crashed to the ground, gas lines exploded, people cried and screamed,
The girls shook with terror, but the B17s had gone.
History called it 28 July 1943 - Hamburg firestorm.
Petra always called it Day of the Bees.
.. .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in Debbie Guzzi's Contest Hot Time Summer in the City
Is it real or are you faking
it? ;
Can you testify truly
without a hit?
That it is as strong as it
seems? ;
Even in the absence of
every being;
You are poised to create a
scene;
That goes against all sins;
I could call you the mustard
seed;
But, is it worth it? ;
It is one thing to be known
for something;
And another to be firm in
acting;
The story begins with the
action;
The test;
The great test that you
can’t detest;
Your arms are tied;
Sitted in that waiting room;
And like a criminal that is
tried;
You shiver like its all going
to end in doom;
No! She must live…;
That’s what goes through
your mind;
And even a quick magic
right
now, you won’t dare to
mind;
I thought you had it in you;
I thought it was for real;
Even after all the binding;
And through all the casting;
Your mind is still in a doubt
situation;
And you run helter skelter
in search of a faster
solution;
From Church to Church;
From Temple to Temple;
And alas! From shrine to
shrine;
How then can the light
shine?
As it has finally been lost
for a
cheap fine;
The word says it’s the
evidence of
things not seen;
The assurance of things
hoped for;
A supernatural gift given to
you;
And yet your distance from
it grew;
Like both sides of a forever
widening canyon;
You once testified;
That he was crucified;
Not for nothing sake;
But for our whole spiritual
make;
A good reason for our
belief in him;
And our total submission;
Have you forgotten or are
you blinded? ;
Blinded by impatience and
greed;
And now;
The big question;
Where lays your faith?
Is he not the same as he
was in the past?
The healer, the provider, the
protector;
The I am that I am;
Where lays your faith?
An encouraging answer
would
spark up a good fate;
After all the roaming for
quick solution;
You still come back to your
place
of true solution;
Inevitable!
That’s the word;
He raised Lazarus from the
dead;
He said a word and the evil
spirits
fled;
Does that ring a bell?
I guess it does now;
And it’s clear that you once
lost
the faith;
And luckily it’s not too late;
Use the kneeler;
Make that prayer;
Have the belief;
Feel the relief;
And Alleluia
The problem is all gone;
The story of faith;
Preaching to your state;
Good or bad;
Hope it is real;
Hope it’s not fake;
Your faith;
Vivid flashbacks from bloodshed battles
his soul still ravaged by devious dictators,
cries from fallen comrades still echo in his mind,
but he continues to walk upon a path of pandemonium.
Reluctantly he ventures forward with
vengeance portrayed through embers
engulfed within his frenzied eyes -
reflecting his mother's irreversible tears.
He is no mercenary nor a moneymaker,
just a repentant drifter, preparing for bedlam.
His purpose in sight, he closes his eyes,
but struggles to erase his thoughts,
as the sins of his ancestry inflict his mind.
Angels attempt to light his path with harmonic chords,
but demons cause havoc strumming broken strings.
Entering the kingdom of dry fountains,
where God has no influence,
he is afraid to inhale its corrupt pollutant air.
Charcoal clouds rumble,
before horizons shed unwelcome tears.
Before him platinum priests preach,
as court jesters dance with sly grins,
hiding metaphorical daggers behind their backs.
To his right overfull hospitals have no beds,
as penniless patients plead to be cured.
To his left the self proclaimed vain king
sits on his cardboard throne,
throwing dollars into a blazing fire place.
To his side his tyrannical hypocritical queen
hides behind her simulated smile,
oblivious to her narcissistic prince's incest desires
towards her clueless imbecilic princess.
It's an endless loop of greed cultivating corrupt seed,
which continues to breed nefarious creed.
Miserable masses attempt to break free,
but their liberation is dissected by cretinous henchmen.
In the marketplace of Machiavellian thieves,
merchant pawns auction fragmented dreams.
Sold to the biggest idiot!
His eyes full of disbelief, now rage with anarchy!
Intoxicated knights raise their half empty glasses,
as he calmly walks into this man made sand castle.
Gifts the cunning conniving cook some cyanide,
which he empties into his delectable broth.
Both watch as the elevated ones savour it like dogs,
perishing dramatically to their deserved downfall.
Beyond his childhood playground,
now with rusty swings and slides,
he places a crimson rose upon his mother's grave,
kissing her untouched headstone.
Expressionless he walks into the distance,
as storms wash away weak foundations.
Silent One
25 July 2018
I reached into the depth...
But could not withdraw Excalibur from the stone.
Yet I knew I was the one.
Why else my 'Grail Vision' in the sun?
The depths call me to reach further still.
And Mary's eyes bled.
Realizing for whom the tear's shed.
I know not what to do.
Vainity reaching to withdraw from the glue.
I stare blindly in the distance a 'bust' of my former self.
Passing the secret of excalibur being drawn by someone else.
And passing by the oracle of Ephesus, Medusa's eyes
She drew the sword stone in deep catching my contemplations of the mirror.
I could loose myself in her forever.
Secret Sweets. Stained Sheets. and shaking cold she wraps me in the golden fleece.
Covered in snakes, I melt into the secret skin.
Learning the name, I see my fathers before me distrought.
And see now the blindness of the Kingdom Oedipus wrought.
Sophoclese Tragedies and I am forever Oedipus.
Betrayed blessin' between whorish thighs and my camarades' lies.
Where is Helena these days?
Gone so long, I've forgotten her ways.
That's the trick-she sucks in your depth.
I am Horus, my seeds sewn in the west.
Innana's dead. I broke my maiden-named womb.
Long ago I allocated multiversic kingdoms for Osiris' perversion tombs.
And in the mysteries of deep misery.
I have witnessed my seed coming of age.
To lay thoughts like these out on a page.
Christ, Annubis, and I planned this on a street in Greece, A.D., B.C. I can't remember which.
I bare down frost-bitten from the North.
And my Christ of peace bore symbols from the East.
Our dog-eared down-home friend brought simpler lessons from an outdated South.
And we witnessed our births spread out over time.
Three wise men we were singing dark-hearted songs of a blackened Madonna we couldn't find.
So we relinquished ourselves to Daddy Darkest who knew best.
Redistributed seeds, we pushed ourselves to a static line beyond myth; where men like us no longer needed to exist.
Sweet Virgin, Return
I am old and worn thin.
Now, is your time to begin; A collection of stories your heart has borne, but you lay unblemished.
My daughter lay our bones to rest.
Cook them in your stew.
Reigns handover long overdue, but that's not the style you do.
Don't worry about ole Paw. Jimmy Crack corn.
May you be Princess Disarming Charming laced with meaning...
And I awake sleeping...
Beauty, I next to you.
In the night the wolves howl in the distance,
As the spring lambs bay, with the first stirrings of life,
Close lies the pack of humanity, those for whom hunger for the
Fresh taste of the blooding’s first strike, at the throats of innocence
Most pure!
Have they gone suddenly silent, these yearlings tender lambs,
In the stilled quiet amongst the melting snows of winter,
The mountain fields run crimson, and an eerie stench oozing
Upon the winds of distain!
The cannibal lies within the forest of the towered halls,
In the giant fortresses of mankind, he does stalk amongst his own brethren,
No wolfed bite of treachery could leave such a mark of
Terror, as he the beast, whom would feast upon the raw flesh
Of his kindred kind!
A gentlemen chamleon blending amongst the tailcoats
Of learned men, sheathed within the amour of intelligence's,
A humanistic wolf moves flawlessly, within the herds of the
Meek and mild, to pick his victims of the city flock
At his leisure of desires pleasure!
Underneath the outstretched wings of the red dragon,
The bubbling caldron pot of truest evil, does runneth over,
With the gravy’s leavening's of the corruption and violence,
Welcoming this creature of the demonic to the dinning
Table of the unrighteous and wicked!
Black sheep, black sheep, do you have any wool,
The whittend lamb does ask, nay but in the woods
Therein, lies many go within the wolves din and take
What you like at your own risk of course, my innocent
Friend, but beneath the blackened skinned wool the
Wolf does smile, with a sheepish grinning!
In an extravagant restaurant a well-mannered gentlemen,
Orders the specialty of the house to go, later he adds
He adds his special ingredients, spiced to the taste
Buds of the cook himself, it sizzles with an unusual
Oromia of well-cooked human flesh, the cannibal
Smiles with delight at his culinary masterpiece,
As the police knock at his door, with a missing
Persons report!
In the jail cell of the lost souls, he the cannibal known
As Hannibal Lector has no regrets, except say one,
The meal he never got to finish!
In the night the wolves howl in the distance,
As the spring lambs bay, with the first stirrings of life,
Close lies the pack of humanity, those for whom hunger for the
Fresh taste of the blooding’s first strike, at the throats of innocence
Most pure!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Wife's job vanished
Bank account diminishing
Future uncertain
Wolves are nosing at the door again.
My children smile at me,
Dance for joy when I come home;
Suddenly, no more fear, no worries for awhile
Funny how it takes all my concentration,
Such an effort of will,
To acheive, now and again,
The state of mind they take for granted.
The background noise of the big world is so high
One can barely think.
So I strive to rise above it,
To lift up and out of my little self
Climbing higher and higher
'Til the horizon's edges
Fall Away
And everything is Present:
No Future No Past
No Necessities
Only the one Conscious Moment
Shining here unbounded.
I see once more that I shall suffer for awhile,
But can this really touch my joys, my freedom?
- Only by my own permission.
No Joy without Pain
No Light without Dark
No Life without Death
Where are the sufferings of yesterday, of the years before?
Memories now, fading into the distance.
Troubles roll in, break over our lives
Then go, then come again
Sliding forwards and back on the tides of tomorrows.
I feel my pain, and close behind it
The world's far greater pain screaming
From its thousand daily wounds
Yet every day we go on, regardless
Fight the strain and it strengthens,
Let it break, then it recedes.
Do something, or nothing
The Wheel turns just the same.
Easily said, yet hard to do;
Nothing's more difficult
Than doing nothing.
My love runs deep, my senses alive and vibrant with her,
Countless small delights lay near to hand.
I've two children more beautiful than the stars
To gaze on as they sleep; drunken with love of them
- What matters some struggle, next to this?
Yesterday is lost to time, and tomorrow yet to be;
All I can hold is this One Moment - I must not let it fall!
I look within the Moment
Horizons Fall Away.
Reach for It - It slides away
Listen for It - no sound will come
- But glance away, be still awhile and wait
- It steals up in the wind and blows right though you, Singing.
It is like deep water.
On the surface everything changes, flows
But down below abides a Great Stillness.
Horizons Fall Away.
Listen and you can hear the wind whisper
the name of a lost ship and its skipper.
The wind’s name is Favonius, winged god
His sotto voce is but a whimper.
Gentle breeze doth tell of China Clipper
Bound back toward London by English shipper
Lost from sight ten days out of Adelaide
for all those involved a real fear gripper.
Fast Lammermuir was used in the tea trade,
Built by W. Pile’s Company twas then made
Clipper’s capacity a thousand tons
With errant compass windjammer now strayed
Off course by three degrees vessel now runs,
till Mate’s use of sextant now captain stuns
Ocean current is also a surprise
This phenomenon Captain Bell now shuns
The current wants to go counter clockwise
Loss of ship’s control is what this implies
Sails unable to give pull to the right
though steersman at wheel with strength vainly tries
Lammermuir was in a terrible fight
Not turning right was a dangerous plight
All hands on deck knew their situation
Hard battle continued both day and night
Exactly where was their lost location
Question captain sought with much vexation
Average speed of Jammer was fifteen knots
Get back on course or it’s their damnation
No welcome sight of other ships or yachts
Current’s tying captain’s stomach in knots
Break free now or else certain death will come
Possibility gives worrisome thoughts.
New day same latitude they’d started from
A three hundred mile circle left all numb
From circling current they couldn’t break free
Trying all things they refused to succumb.
Lighten ship over the side went the tea
Sails pulled harder still that wasn’t the key
Rear stern chaser was next without effect
Flying, scared lady raced over the sea
Caught fast in a maelstrom of no escape
Swirling in circles of concentric shape
Ever decreasing circumference toward hole
Ever increasing speed toward yawing gape
West wind speaks no more of piteous sight
Wraps wings to cover eyes from ship’s bad plight
Finis, finis, Lammermuir sails no more
Ending day ends in blanket of black night.
Distance To London From Adelaide is:
10110 miles / 16270.47 km / 8785.35 nautical miles
Distance To Shanghai From Adelaide is:
4706 miles / 7573.57 km / 4089.4 nautical miles
Inspired by one of my favorite bands, Rise Against, and the song is called,
“Ever-changing” (Acoustic). Please listen to this song if you don’t know of it. It’s raw &
powerful.
“Have you ever been a part of something? That you thought would never end. But then, of
course, it did.” –Rise Against
“I fell in ‘Like’ with you”
With her smile
I melted unto oblivion’s redemption
Candy coated perceptions, windows’ gap
Seeping brilliance refreshment
Uncertainty resolution, polished
Absorbed into closeness sun
Yet these eyes still…see
Butterflies taking notice, missing you…as you stood in front of me
Strong, yet soft legs
Foundation of my face to rest upon
Scars…fading
A cremated sin
Yet, elongated moments of silence
Created abruption’s new face
The face of change
When she turned to me and said
“I’m not sure, anymore”
Emotional lullaby, rocking me to sleep
New battles with spectral flashback
Trying to get under my skin, a drunken tick facing demise
Phoenix’s sunrise, rejuvenating my recycled defenses
Yet, today, these rays just aren’t bright enough to burn sadness away
And with these sounds of storm clouds & Fall on horizon’s breath
These grounds are so familiar, yet bittersweet
This heart doesn’t want to be enlightened by karma today
It wants to be held for how it shines now
Denied…distance wins again today
Slavery whipped punishments in miles and blocks
This must end
Because I try to keep lines open to get a call from you
Yet all I hear are booty calls with busy signals
And yet something has kept me here too long
But can they leave me, if I’m already gone?
Something has kept me here too long
Karma’s laughter
But, through it all, I will shine
…
How I wish my mere presence can bring joy’s tear to her eye
Sadly though, now, the lines are drawn
Yet I wonder if this feeling is gone
Have the best parts of this…come and gone?
…
Maybe I’ll never know the truth
Perhaps she was misguided by jealousy’s deprivation
Deteriorating heart’s splendor
While I fell in “like” with her
Perhaps “Better Man 2.0” appeared from Cloud 9’s fallacy
While I fell in “like” with her
Perhaps
She held onto the past
As I, drawn to waterfall’s edge
Allowed myself
To let go…and F
A
L
L
© Drake J. Eszes
“We adore those who hurt us. Yet, we hurt those who adore us.” -Anonymous
‘Ossi’, what Western side likes them to call,
East returning complements with ‘pushy’,
No more stands there the brick-and-mortar wall,
Love’s lost still in old animosity.
The wall o’er a decade and half back fell,
Yet, an iron curtain still them divide,
Minds cannot meet over the wall of pride,
Hurt heart and prejudice can’t that gulf scale.
‘I’d rather a spouse from a foreign shore
‘Bring than one from behind iron curtain,’
Felt one from across the long secured door,
Deep and wide does divide decades of pain.
Here lingers a dislike, there disdain old,
What venom brethren nurse for each other!
An open war has turned into one cold,
Togetherness in search of fair tether!
‘Too hot’ for us these women from the West,
‘Hard to please, pushy, far too material,
‘Everything about them seems commercial,
‘From old world do we come and too modest’.
‘Too darn dense be these people from the East,
‘Lacking any a style whatsoever,
‘Forever on a bargain-hunting heist,
‘Let them savour their old odious flavour’.
Wall was felled to enable two-way flow,
Heads still finds it hard to communicate,
Bridges and trains, mutual dialogue to grow,
Yet, hard it is distanced hearts to placate.
Love and passion when at a premium come
In too short a period of years fifteen,
Old prejudices play a harder drum,
Not easy 'tis long-closed closets to clean.
World has its Kashmir, long-gulfed Koreas too,
And torn-apart people elsewhere a few,
A healer great, mighty teacher is time,
If not today, morrows may sing in rhyme.
______________________________________________________
The Berlin Wall came down some 15 years back on 9th November1989. But the iron curtain continues to divide the two people that history separated. Only two per cent of marriages every year are between the East and the West Berliners, which under normal conditions should have brought together one-third to half of the couples in a city its size. Yet, they are 12 times more likely to marry foreigners. After the wall fell, there came the euphoria only to die soon. A lingering dislike persists between the two sides. Yet, in all fairness 15 years is too short a period to mitigate the wounds inflicted by 60 years of separation. Time, let us hope, will prove a great healer that it is.
______________________________________________________
Happenings | 01.11.04 |
Karen Windle roughly on par...
with being a miniature poodle size dogsend
Apartment B44 one bedroom unit
at Highland Manor low income facility
housing older folks convenient starting point,
to launch poem and invite reader(s)
reason(s) without rhyme
why yours truly (me)
chose to express heartfelt gratitude
toward resident Karen Windle,
which named individual most likely unknown
across world wide web
(hmm... maybe methinks perchance
possibly ye did sound her out courtesy radar,
especially if thee dutiful patrol officer
generously handing out -
not necessarily) winning lottery tickets
within vicinity encompassing
University of Delaware.
We (myself and zee missus) inhabit
aforementioned single bedroom abode,
allows, enables and provides
convenient reference point
upon exiting our dime a dozen quarters
(housing near penniless occupants)
verily orient toward left of hallway,
no need to access global positioning satellite
leisurely amble short distance
just count three doors down on the left,
thee will espy name tag printed
small letters Karen Windle
her acquaintanceship we did kindle,
now greater value when measured with corn,
wheat, or other commodities
approximately equal to three bushels,
but varying in different regions.
Explanation whereby appreciation
toward Karen (spry firecracker, energetic,
diminutive, albeit frail looking gal)
materialized when series of unfortunate events
rendered me and mine spouse
without ready immediate access to automobile
near necessity within quaint enclave
identified as Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
affords absolute zero public transit,
hence necessity for chauffeur de jure arose,
whereby availability to shuttle us
found monetary compensation declined,
thus stymied intent regarding how I could
communicate sincere thankfulness
relieved when she would accept
poetic endeavor incorporating
best college try (mine) to alleviate
imposition if/when opportunity exists
to scrape meager money
and expect to sink a fortune
maintaining, insuring, fueling vehicle,
significant portion of social security (disability)
allocated to sustain reliability of car
dollar figure greater than buzzfeeding
caretaking, duties linkedin to
mental, physical, and spiritual health
concerning this aging baby boomer,
plus his counterpart approximately
previous couple dozen years.