Long Doubloons Poems
Long Doubloons Poems. Below are the most popular long Doubloons by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Doubloons poems by poem length and keyword.
Vertical Sea
Arise horizons tell us what you see
Vertical rain comes on high wave conclusions adrift in mist
Fortunes waiting out on the sea for men who come in ships
So much rain came in from all directions in one instance
Sanity was questioned at a distance along with risk
Vertical rain broke portal windows with such force
Eighty mile winds crashed in as well
Distracted men at playing cards, drinking rum for fun
Now huddled in fear within the thin skin cabin
No one slept inside the dead of hour’s darkness
Troubles bounced up and down out there
Pirates in the past fumbled their rich existence down
A new crop of water warriors can be found to take their place
Doubloons are buried in dark quarter’s underwater world
Above and below deck, inundated with storm and fear
Between each plank the storm took out more men
No thick skinned seasoned soul could harness or hold on
No salty language sailor could be heard
Above the tumultuous storm
The fierce beast rolled in on angry nature’s back
With it, folding over fifty foot waves, came torrential rains
Which pounded heavy on the bow
Churned up rogue waters on the vulnerability of sea life
Nature itself turned on them in adept ferocity
In violence it flipped the ship
Showed contempt for every soul on board
With total disregard for life and limb
And complete indifference towards the sailors
The blackness, void of light, could not help these tyrannical conditions
The monstrous storm consumed more than the rain
It drank up men and drowned them
Others flew in all directions
Most of them broke necks, died before they hit the deck
Instantly killed, dragged into the cold dark depths as well
All steps were in the wrong direction, in favor of the waves
They could not even cower in the craft or say a prayer
The boat and men turned upside down
The ship had splintered into nothing and flew into the gale
Only three men remained, bobbing on the giant waves
Flapping their arms like molested chickens on the sea
Tossed in every direction but straight ahead
Rogue waves were in control, in hysterical rage and agitation
No one knew what happened to the crew
They were never seen again
EYELIDS WEAR THE COLD
Eyelids wear the cold
shivering in the dark
neither dull nor bold
doubloons lost their spark
Shivering in the dark
weeping manic tears
doubloons lost their spark
fruition of her fears
Weeping manic tears
mascara runs on lashes
fruition of her fears
as his short life crashes
mascara runs on lashes
neither dull nor bold
as his short life crashes
eyelids wear the cold
2/16/2020
PANTOUM Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Theme:I will miss you
"Ballinger's pride will be the death of him,"
Was the last muttering of the old cyclops before
The poison took over. Never trust unicorn bartenders.
Young Gallimay, the town's token centaur,
Walked into this scene:
Serren's body laid across the bar.
Tempest the unicorn bartenders cleaned pint glasses. (All ladee-da.)
Two old frog friends sat in the back with lagers, blinking back at the man/horse.
Tinkerbell whizzed by with the someone's check, pregnant with her 3rd babybell.
A baby albino dire wolf slept soundly at the foot of the hat rack near his hooves.
Gallimay trotted up to the bar right beside the dead body.
"300 doubloons," said Tempest the unicorn bartender.
Gallimay gave her a look like he got hit with a frying pan.
"The dire pup," she clarified, "300 doubloons if you're interested."
Gallimay shook his head and leaned in, "Ma'am I'm here on a tip someone was poisoned to death. A text from this location saying 'I've been poisoned.'"
Gallimay looked at the body next to him
And then back at Tempest.
"What's this guy's story?"
"His name is Serren. He's a regular. Must've fell asleep."
Gallimay nudged the Cyclops' ribs.
"Hey buddy!" The body toppled
Over and hit the ground.
The Centaur took out a walkie from his vest pocket.
"I gotta 10-66 at the Imagine Inn."
"Bloody Mary?" Tempest asked Gallimay.
"Not on the job, thanks."
"No, have you talked to Bloody Mary?"
Tempest pointed her cone towards a woman at the end of the bar
Cloaked in shadows and dripping with blood.
"Mary and Serren were an item for quite awhile," Added Tempest.
Unable to help from over-hearing, Mary waved at them politely.
"Let me call you back, Ballinger," said the scarlet-soaked woman
In a barroom hush.
Oh, what an easy thought to find,
The countless things I'm thankful for,
Soft-spilling, joyous, as they pour
From each deep recess of my mind ...
Like gold doubloons, they shine and spin,
Each one a cherished treasure, fine,
Such wealth, have I, that's wholly mine,
Locked safe forever, deep within ...
Fast, they pass thru lifetime's sieve,
Our loves and graces, big and small,
And moments, rare, but most of all ...
The grandest gift, to simply ... LIVE.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "A Cheerful Rhyme" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 7th Place ~ in the "Thankful" Poetry Contest, Tania Kitchin, Judge & Sponsor.
Ah, sweet slumber of nip-laden dreams;
the milk of mother moon bestowed,
a blessed drink and lactose-free
to this mine humble, feline throat.
Running freely through outer space,
I touch upon thy blessed universe.
My home of emerald and lapis lace,
is where in I lay in furred repose.
Chasing neon rainbows in nebulae bright,
my dreams are filled with gold doubloons.
I’ll spend them on treats and nip-delight,
and chase away any greedy tycoons.
A feline black as obsidian night,
in a home filled with human love;
among the faeries and tree sprites,
mind flies just like the doves.
imagine
what fantastical wonders
besides the fish
swim in realms of oceans deep
with fantails that swish
when the full moon is glowing
like a treasure chest of shiny gold doubloons
and starlight brightens the sea
mermaids will be found
smiling as they dance in rhythmic reverie
their giggles create bubbles
in pearlescent hues
while the scalloped scales
on their tails
gleam in shades of greens and blues
aquatic maidens
Poseidon's lovely daughters
twirl and pirouette
beneath crystal clear waters
their haven
lies near a tropical shore
may they reign
there forever more
January 10, 2021
Suzette Prime Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Here we are in 1650, which is ten minutes to five
swing the wheel to the West, which is left,
put your sun cream away, man the mizzen and the stays
as we set off for some murder and some theft.
You'll find us as your hosts on the sunny Barbary Coast
and from there we venture forth to ply our trade
we've been out leaving them for dead from the Atlantic to the Med
before we skittle off back home our fortunes made
With a yo-ho-ho and a barrel of grog
and an arrr and some other cliches
table leg for a thigh and a patch on me eye
as a Pirate I will end my days
As I previously stated we all get inebriated
from our copious imbibing of the grog
our excuse is there's no Cola in the bars of Hispaniola
which is why we need the hair of the dog
With a yo-ho-ho and a barrel of grog
and an arrr and some other cliches
table leg for a thigh and a patch on me eye
as a Pirate I will end my days
Got a woman in Bermuda and another in Tortuga
and they give me lots of lovin' for some coins
and although they're very foxy they're just both a pair of doxies
which I'm sure explains the rash around me groin
With a yo-ho-ho and a barrel of grog
and an arrr and some other cliches
table leg for a thigh and a patch on me eye
as a Pirate I will end my days
Now we're really no buffoons when it comes down to doubloons
and our treasure chests are burstin' at the seams
then old Blackbeard started spouting about doing our accounting
so I said (before I shot him) 'in your dreams'
(ye chorus)
As we skirmish the Atlantic I was starting to get frantic
since the one thing on my voyage I've always feared
is the men who've not been coming for a while across some women
have all started wearing lipstick, which is weird
(arr, the chorus again)
Well it's reached that point me hearties where we anchor down and party
so me shipmates here on board I'd like to thank
though the mix of food and beer has now given me diarrhea
which is why I've made our cook just walk the plank
(for thee last time, chorus, arrrr)
September 17th 2015, 'A pirate's life for me' contest, sponsor Kelly Deschler
(Author's note- there are several spellings of diarrhea, but it doesn't matter, they all have 'arr' in 'em, me hearties)
The words of the Zulu coconut,
a once coveted souvenir
from an indulgent visit
to festive Mardi Gras.
As our hero speaks
two mice nibble
unobserved
at his
coat.
"Beads
were slung;
doubloons cast.
Grasping tourists
seized the trifling throws.
Floats advanced in the queue
krewes tossed their tokens wildly.
Prize gifts are meant to be given.
So I, Zulu, went from hand to hand."
Meanwhile a mischief of mice emerged
to attack Zulu's varnished coat.
As they quickly devour him,
his paint began its work
within their stomachs
to do the same.
Zulu's last
witnessed
speech:
"Far
better
to restock
the soil of earth.
Better to be spent
as nourishment to some.
Better still to end this life
by sprouting as a seed of hope.
Better than this: "paint may be toxic."
We wend through life with hopes of one true love,
Quite rare, such fits, that match you like a glove ...
A blend of souls ... divine inspiration.
Once heaven found you naught but in my dreams,
Yet now you're real, sweet angel, though it seems ...
This sacred gift ... divine inspiration.
Smooth tresses, golden silk, frame eyes of brown,
Those swirling depths where I would gladly drown ...
To love's abyss ... divine inspiration.
Oh moonbeams dance your dermis like doubloons,
The sweet price paid your form, as passion swoons ...
The carnal cost ... divine inspiration.
Each moment that I spend wrapped in your wings,
Means one less wasted 'midst those lesser things ...
A realm of you ... divine inspiration.
How long I've sought the truth of heaven's light,
Thus, now through you, dear angel, life is bright ...
One in our love ... divine inspiration.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Pick-A-Title Volume 14 - Tristitch" Poetry Contest, Edward Ibeh, Judge & Sponsor.
* The title and name I chose is "Afflatus" *
you think …
you know me?
no apologies for your pharisaic attempts to
hurt me … go right ahead
I’ve taken far sharper swords -
rusty, jagged-edged goodbyes and
lancinating ne’er-do-wells
carelessly dragged across my throat
or thrust ‘tween the
ribs of my better judgements
I won’t even move - I can’t, you see
my stack of sins is much
too overwhelming -
I don’t own a rug large enough
to sweep them under …
so … plunge away!
any hateful blade will do
but don’t pretend to know what spins my gears
or motivates this foolish ol’ ticker
and don’t feign to know
what abyss my surf-born doubloons sink to
(shimm’ring with moonkiss)
it’s a darkness I paid dearly for
with intense grief and terror … and pain -
the separation of flesh from sinew
blood as sweet as venom
a sting that has no mitigation
and eyes that can never close …
many gazed the bowels of that black and
ached to know its shadowed awe
but no breath can reach the depths of
such inky complexity
and no wit can mark its fathoms …
‘tis a bottomless algorithm
one you cannot hope to divine
and be indebted that you can’t -
for I’m naught but your coursing
and there is no primmer to my code …
the maelstroms that swirl that core
are vortices of chaos
unintended for a world of subtle sedition
or defensive righteousness
and always just one
“I love you” shy …
of sanity.
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with Gemini AI / Meta AI software )