Long Equatorial Poems
Long Equatorial Poems. Below are the most popular long Equatorial by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Equatorial poems by poem length and keyword.
I look back to the halcyon days
When Mrs Johnson,
A comely widow, ran fruitful
Errands for the new railway, and for
Our undeveloped district.
A frail, little maid in green cardigan
And sable wool hat for new mourners,
She read the New Testament
With zest, from Matthew to Revelation.
And she battled with the stress of inheritance
At the foot of her husband’s death in a
Civil war.
Her only son had died in civil stress. . .
Before then,
She was a merry image of festal seasons,
Full of godly gap-toothed mirth.
Her inheritance, from the ceremony of death,
Were mere effigies
With hearts of calumny —like cruel
Neighbours who gossip from dawn
To dusk, speaking no iota of truth in
January, nor bearing good witness in
December.
Among them?
Divorcees, viragoes, astute harlots, and
Celebrated proprietors of bordellos.
Mrs Johnson laments the presence
Of a blinding yellow equatorial sun.
Says she, ”Misery in equator courses
Across the waist of here;
Stress and agony have built adobes
Among us,
And the Harmattan has departed with her
Cold . . .”
In the pall of this agony,
Snakes!
Now, shadows of floods rise high,
Like the tsunamis of restless Asia,
The height of disconsolate mountains.
Grey elephants trumpet in trepidation
Sallow, ululating leopards break the skins of
Their drums while summoning their kinsmen
For a hurried parley before the sun sinks . . .
Poor Mrs Johnson is in the midst of it all —
Like an eye in its own storm!
City lights sparkle
Orchard Road highlights;
Secular Christmas
~~~~~~~~~
Shoppers smile
Branded goods in tow;
Happiness galore
~~~~~~~~~
Crowded corridors
Congested malls flooded;
Black Friday postures
~~~~~~~~~
Time to attend
Mending broken hearts;
Gift of yourself
~~~~~~~~~
Buying agendas
Long To-Do List;
Indulgence shouts
~~~~~~~~~
Out in the crowd
Heart feels alone;
Things cannot fill
~~~~~~~~~
Christmas adds extra
Stress and strain flaunt;
Discrete permutations
~~~~~~~~~
Street corner vendors
Assorted wares tempt;
Come take me home
~~~~~~~~~
Bags in tow
Train ride home;
Fruitful spree
~~~~~~~~~
A familiar face
In the crowded mall;
Instant smiles tell
~~~~~~~~
Child bargaining
Parental objection;
Enough is enough
~~~~~~~~~
Listen love calls
Can you hear music;
Hymns from faraway
~~~~~~~~~
Equatorial Christmas mood
Sun, rain and humidity;
Take air-con cover
~~~~~~~~~
Now face to face
Heart to heart;
Priceless giving
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
01 December 2014
Singapore
All chocolate comes from the cacao trees
They grow best in tropical vicinities.
The tree first grew in Central America
although most of them now grow in Africa.
A portion of them also comes from Asia.
Equatorial climate proves most ideal,
so the tree has plenty of pods to reveal.
The pods on the trees contain many small beans.
These beans have to dry by the usual means.
They have to spend many hours in the sun
before any further processing is done.
Once dry, they are processed with fermentation.
They get chocolate liquor through extraction.
The beans have to be shipped to facilities
where they are scoured for all impurities.
The brown dried beans are then roasted for some time;
long enough to bring out flavor that’s sublime.
Further along in this commonplace process,
butter is extracted by hydraulic press.
They add alkali and emulsifier,
along with sugar and vanilla flavor,
to a thick consistency that would favor
pressing into molds that are briskly shaken.
Air bubbles escape; solid bars are taken
to another room for wrapping and packing.
Finished products are ready for marketing.
Look closer now:
In just a point --
All things abide
First aid kit
Small cut;
Blood ooze colours
Bad dream
Nightmare taunting;
Fear intervenes
Out of sync
With myself;
A flu bout mangles
Back home Wednesday
Nursing jet lag;
Sleepy adjustment
Home sweet home
Notice the aura;
Rest works best
Diary entries
Messy thought flow;
So much babbling
Souvenirs collected
Keepsakes to tuck away;
Memory milestones
Gifts for people
To keep in touch;
Sacred sanctuary
For a short while
A Chinese terrain;
Now equatorial blooms
Words and more
Cryptic collaboration;
Strange deluge
Be of good cheer
Laughter frames zest;
Despite the pain
Leon Enriquez
03 June 2014
Singapore
I've dreamed of traveling to equatorial Egypt
To see the Pyramids of Giza and even the Sphinx
And then onto the jungles of darkest Africa
To meet voodoo doctors, unafraid of their jinx
O, in my dreams, I've coursed through the canals of Venice
And met the Queen for tea before Wimbledon tennis
I've climbed the Eiffel Tower, spent hours in the Louvre
Been to Mumbai, New Delhi, by the Taj Mahal been moved
Once dreams such as these were the province of Kings
Yet today even you and I can realize all these things
From whaling expeditions in Norway to bullfights in Spain
They're just a click or two away, and a seat on a plane
...This happened when we were undergrads,
but then in his graduate studies
when he was working towards a career
that was entwined with biology,
he was working with a group that sought
to raise up the national IQ,
and then Charlie, as he often did,
offered an ‘unapproved’ point-of-view.
He said, “I think it won’t come about,
since we always revert to the mean,
and IQ may be tied to ancestry,
for a century that has been seen:
A ninety IQ in Serbia,
but one hundred up in Great Britain,
Equatorial Guinea…sixty,
the high eighties if you’re a Kenyan.
Even in countries where people mix
we continue to see the same trend,
and I think it’s foolish to ignore
these facts when we’re pursuing our ends.
Education has been tried for years,
and has had but minimal effect,
evolution has molded our brains,
should this not help us guide our next steps?
A person who knows their shortcomings
can seek out a way to go around,
a person who thinks they’re smart when they’re not
is only going to be ground down.”
So his partners screamed bloody murder,
and then demanded that he be gone,
they yelled at him, “You’re friggin’ crazy!”
He said, “Maybe…but I am not wrong.”
Yes, I remember Charlie from school,
since memory is all that’s left now,
see Charlie was killed six months ago,
when out running errands in his town.
He got caught in an ANTIFA ‘protest,’
was shot when he tried to drive away,
4chan managed to find his killer,
he’s in prison now, fearful of rape.
I guess the man got what he deserved,
but Charlie was right about one more thing,
no media cared about his death,
‘wrong narratives’ need no reporting.
I didn’t understand it back them,
but today, in my early thirties,
I’m staring to see that my old friend
was blessed and cursed by what he could see.
Feminism has hurt our families,
and parenting is the cornerstone,
we’re not blank slates, we’ve all been dealt hands
that we must play, unique and our own.
I still hesitate to speak of it,
fearing hatred from the angry throng,
but how does one live hiding from truth?
It scares me that Charlie wasn’t wrong.
On the roster for any thrill seeker in retro sneakers a eureka
Salsa eats & beats dash from the speaker splash of paprika
Anything else an imposter the don is chicharron in Costa Rica
Dominica tropical scenes greens means hullabaloo of callaloo
Equatorial Guinea don a pinny for panache of succotash tutorial
Who knew that Fiji do niche ceviche as good as you get in Peru
Decoder delish fish dish a glut of coconut and it’s called kokoda
Askance glance France may perchance be the gourmet dance
Escargot or Fruit De Mer to share the flair the care in a trance
Even in the present effervescent present food of the peasant
Cassoulet or tartiflette..pot au feu get a baguette jamon beurre
Concur not happenstance foody romance your soul will enhance
One could buckle or just chuckle as you gawk at a pork knuckle
Thick of neck sturdy nerdy stock eating speck or flock for hock
Out and about can’t flout the rule everything goes with sauerkraut
Old school burst all banger no clanger meat lubed into tubes wurst
Can’t scoff hats do doff to gourmand nirvana trough of jollof in Ghana
Phew not the voodoo or hoodoo crew but FuFu oh & some marijuana
Not a trend setter but better appetite whetter tomatoes with onions & feta
Deceives no peeves big hitter apricity of the simplicity.. pita & vine leaves
At your leisure forget the rest a beset treasure chest of pleasure and zest
Charter boat smarter gloat starter roe of cods food of the Gods Taramasalata
Meek weak bleak then Greek geek tweak should seek best test for any guest
They, the blind
Heavy laden with mystery of denial
Empty of eclectic views
Yearns for Island of blinding white light.
They hate the color black
Every woman's sexy black dress
Every man's spotless black tuxedo
Every child's mem'ry of a clean blackboard.
They hate the color black
Black American history, mighty as Montenegro
Bleach cannot blot out its strength.
They hate the color black
Face the Sun!
Hold a conversation on equatorial black
Black rain clouds cleansing, hydrating, renewing.
They hate the color black
Black, the night, showing starlight
Black ink on sheets of white
Black the beginning and end of life -
They hate the color black.
*
You are the river running through
unfathomable greens
glassy yellows
down in the core of the river
flicker lightness on top
You increase me…swell me…impregnate without word or deed
push me to the fore till my sail fills with your carbon
a deep blue undertow …rip tidian
only moderate and full…like a plate of food...of vegetables …of fruit…of corn
You are the dark brown peat from which I absorb minerals
vitamins … steel ...magnesium…sulfate
the pillow of my essence’s rest in your name …hurricane
You fall on me
Wash off delusion
And I am a small green thing …a fine rooted thing
Small leaves of me stretch for your chloroformian shadows
My roots dig deep
hear your drum beat in the equatorial regions of the flaming core
I bend around the rocks …look under ever beetle’s shimmering skin
in all things you can be found
Amorous and craving …a magma surface of tension and sun
in tree tops …dark places
in the dark alleys
You are the blue jay…the cardinal but also the raven
the oak knows you too well…the west wind too and swells up in my skirts…my cottons
my downy …my linen …my lead
you stand … your hands on your hips
look out over the possibilities
hungry for returns
I echo
Light housing across ….a sound burst
a wave in a vast universe of waves ..so many
too many waves
but you will hear me
Master of my heart
lover of my flesh and bone…my fat ..my thinness…my crispness…my luxury
You will hear …what no one else will ever know
and call it home
H ey girl you remind me of an angel
E mereld your eyes attract me always
A lthough never talked to you but I guess
V ery sweet your voice like chimes of a bell
E vening prayer's chanting from the temple
N ever could I touch your beautiful face
L et me touch its velvetness and caress
Y our angelic face hey my sweet angel.
Two eloping hearts evergreen like equatorial rainforests
entwined in the eternal escalator of love
leaving a trail of lovely lavender fragrance
her touchscreen face tempting him to touch
to caress carelessly and to bring about cascaded tapestry .
And he started caressing her face
Between her two brows his fingers stopped momentarily
Causing her to open her dreamy eyes questionably
Demanding more tip-toeing of his fingers downwards
Eventually his fingers stopped at the softness of her lips.
© kashinath karmakar (8th July 2011)
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Placement: 3rd; (July 2011)
Contest:Aye, Aye,and a Mistress
Sponsor:Debbie Guzzi