Long Ferryman Poems

Long Ferryman Poems. Below are the most popular long Ferryman by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ferryman poems by poem length and keyword.


Broken Bones

Please don’t tread upon our faith
Or pay the ferryman till’ its safe,
We’ve been the blind now let us be the worthy,
The fractured thoughts we hid away,
In the place we weren’t allowed to say,
We’re older now and deserve our share of mercy.
To share the truth that’s on our mind,
The ones we prayed no one would find,
To put an end to this abusive monster,
Because our silence just condones,
The beast that hid our broken bones,
Who stole our innocence for which to squander.
No more whispers in our eyes,
No more living with these lies,
It’s time the public get to see behind the curtain
It’s time to free our chains of youth,
Explain why we’re misunderstood,
And unload ourselves from this eternal burden.


A Tip From Charon To Thomas Jefferson

Was it just coincidence or the work of hidden powers
that  Jefferson and John Adams passed on within few hours
 on a very weighty date indeed , which was July the fourth,
a  day of celebration uniting  south and north,
and furthermore  a jubilee that fell this selfsame year,
In eighteen twenty-six, a time of joy and cheer?
Monroe, fifth president in line,  died on the selfsame date,
though in his case I have to say he was a few years late.

At length Tom Jefferson woke up from a state like sleep,
and felt the urge to wander off and grant himself a peep.
Would Charon, grave ferryman, let him cross the Stygian brook?
The sullen figure thereupon, with a bleak  and  doleful look,  
warned the hopeful president  he’d be in for a nasty shock
once Charon’s  bark had landed him close to the Plymouth rock..
Though America had outlived wars and then  a mighty slump,
he was less sure of its chances at the blast of the final trump.
It might therefore be wiser  to rest up in heaven or hell
than on earth to witness the toll of the Liberty’ knell.
Form: Burlesque

MY FUTURE SELF

MY FUTURE SELF

My future days are as a grey thickening mist
I refuse to countenance them and will resist
Life’s mill is slowing now with no more grist
I am told to live for today, whilst it may last
Nor breathe deep on the oxygen of the past
No longer who I was, I will be who I will be

I am, after all, just one of many mere mortals
Even fantasise about stepping through portals
Imagining an amused ferryman as he chortles
I cannot believe in any weird alternate future
With any link to permanence held by a suture
And tomorrow is a barred gate, don’t you see

Some seeking a different prospect to entertain
May, in their mind, hope they are not insane
But perhaps it’s just like a worm in their brain
Yet reality can offer only a very cold shoulder
That is pushed further back as one gets older
Past present and future, we will have all three
Form: Rhyme

Dead Broke

The ferryman impatiently awaits
But I lack the gold
So I ask him to wait, as I put him on hold..

I call the grim reaper hoping for a loan
He appeared soon after through my headstone
He's cloaked in all black looking bad to the bone

What is it now? Did you get stoned?
NOoo.. I offed myself in a cornfield all alone
Yeah like how E.T. phoned himself home?

"Please grim I just need a little bread" I begged
Okay, give me a minute but don't hold your breathe
Yeah..well I'm already dead!

After half a century grim returns
He says "sorry bud but you gotta burn"
My jaw drops and i start to run

Without thinking I jump in the river
Soaking in cold green gunk, my body quivers
I stop to look back and think to myself "wow I'm a fast swimmer!"
Grim laughs pointing his bony finger yelling "look at that SINNER!!"
Then out of nowhere, a beautiful angel drys me off and fly's me to dinner
Form: Rhyme

Requiem At the River

I stand in the swamp by the riverbank 
clutching a coin I have stolen
as my heart still beats within my breast
It is only my spirit 
that has slipped away
to await the ferryman of Acheron
Charon who
skillfully pilots his skiff
from there to where it flows 
into Styx

He arrives and I pay the price
He places the coin in his pocket
and grabs hold of the pole
pushing away from the shore
as I lay indolent with lament
in the bottom of the boat
the icy chill of the water 
seeping through the wood 
Shivering I stare at the stars
silently weeping
remembering the many wishes
I made on them that went unrealized
unheard
for the Gods must have 
found me unworthy

Cerberus will step aside to admit me
heads snarling
as the snakes on his back writhe
Hades will welcome me
Or he may hand me over 
to be judged by Aeacus
and plunged into the pit of Tartarus 
for my many sins
to be tortured for eternity
starved and beaten
my liver eaten by birds

May he have mercy on me
this sorrowful lost soul
for all I ever wanted
was to dance
carefree and content
to the music of miracles
in the golden flower filled
Elysian Fields forever
with you


Angel of Death

What is in mine sight that glares my eyes into tears of awe and joy?
A light from the distance is visible but why is there dark around?
The energy straight forward fills the body with a warmth of love and physical heat.
Why do I feel the cold all round me but the warmth like an arrow shot through me?
A color of beauty surrounded by the beasts of the earth and air.
Not the beasts of humanity but the beast of false herds.
The servant of the light or is it the servant of the dark?
Who is the ferryman taking me across the River of Styx?
Simply the angel of death is in service to the light by working off its debt through the void of passage into the darkness.
The final angel we see when we are living and cross into the realm of the dead.
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Charon -- the Eternal Ferryman

Charon—The Eternal Ferryman

The mythical ferryman extraordinaire of such keen gaze,
Who braves the Styx and Acheron in the deepest of haze.  

Charon is a most sordid God who relishes his work as the
“Ferryman of Hades,” carrying new souls to their oblivion.

With an obolus as payment and a flash of his fiery-fierce eyes,
Charon performs his morbid task with a frightening alacrity! 

With his winged-demon appearance and horrifying demeanor,
He terrifies all newly-deceased souls who face his vile being!

The world of the dead is the final destination for those who
Depart from the dark, dreary shores of the Styx and Acheron. 

The deft ‘n cruel skull-crushing force of Charon’s ferryman’s pole,
Ensures that all lost souls in his charge never question his orders!

Charon’s fealty and devotion to Hades are absolute in his actions as
He secures the paramountcy of the world of the dead from the living.

The fleeting and finite nature of our mortal coil ensures that we shall
One day ascend heavenward or descend into a state of total perdition.

Without any doubt, if it be perdition, Charon shall be there to greet us
With the grim gaze of his fiery-fierce eyes as he carries us to our doom!

Don’t forget your obolus—or else!
Without this silver coin the wild wrath of Charon shall be upon you!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved 
January 21, 2018 (Couplet)
Form: Couplet

Poetry

i used as
a coaster
Poe's book
of complete
works for my

beer and as
i watched 
it sweat 
on this 
day

a particularly
humid can't
get used
to it day
i may

have
stated
that i had
contemplated
being buried alive

coughing
but not even
in a coffin but
in floor boards or
in mortared walls all

be it still sealed
in breathlessly
taking away
my living
all gasp

forgiving
as if bitten
by an asp that
slowly emotionally
takes me to the river

but delivered with
empty pockets
my shoes and
socks off 
but not 

a dime

so casts off
the ferryman
throwing sticks
telling perhaps if
he can come back

to see if
money i have
in hand to take
me to that promised
land but never can i to get

for i'm just 
a poe boy 
from a 
poe 

family
momma
mia momma
mia let me go
Form:

Is There Anyway To Cross the River Styx

one said that some cross the river paying the fare to Charon
the blunt old bearded ferryman, while others cross the waters 
with no money but the faith alone

it’s so simple and easy to step on the sands of dismal river Styx
because men of humble class shall die 
the monarchs and the noblemen die as well, 
because when the evil minded go the good conscious heart also has to go, because man dies the god must also die and vanish

for no exception but all is to die 
it’s so simple and easy to step on the sands of dismal river Styx

however, alas is the man with no money in his hand
or the faith in his heart, because the man has no means to 
cross the river but to shiver on the bank on this side and to watch 
the ferryboat going and coming without his soul

or else, to find the way back to the land and take a side-way 
with the great risk for there stands Cerberus, the enormous vicious 
three-headed dog, on the side-way guarding against trespassers

for he was never ceased wandering soul while on the face of earth,
he roamed around here and there to find a place to call his own
the place to dwell with the peace of mind, but unable to find one

only because he has no money or the faith,
though he spent his entire life as a wanderer on earth,
to abandon his weary soul on this side of the riverbank
and let him become a lonely wanderer again in the netherworld 
by the river Styx, isn’t this an overly harsh punishment?
© Su Ben  Create an image from this poem.

R.I.P Till Someday Meets Forever

From all tomorrows
you’ve been erased,
and all of our sorrows
drip to your lovely face


A light that was lit with forever
as mornings hand past twelve,
left this plain with the ferryman 
in forever your light does delve


At first a shocking numbness
gripped us to the bone,
knowing that in the night
your spirit had off and flown


As tendrils of soul reach heaven
St Peter shall answer the door,
showing the way to forever
in the lights of golden floors


A rainbow of confetti will shower
to celebrate you coming home,
and we on the earth forgive you
for wandering afar to roam


A slice of life has slipped away
and submerged in I Am’s hold,
we will weep in your memory
our arms are gripped to fold


Fighting off that feeling
of emptiness inside,
remembrance is the key
to a place that calms the mind


—-


Deep breath


When you come again
will it be as gentle breeze?,
or will it be as rolling waves
and in the splashing of the seas


Could a gentle lark
alight upon a tree,
singing with a soul fullness
as ether-ed wings spread free


And as the moon in night
will you shine upon our face,
and as the Savior holds
with your presence he is graced
,
And as I silently cry
till a body jitters and it shakes,
and I’m wondering why 
it was your soul that he did take


Please save a pair of wings
stained in Neon hues,
we’ll be the funniest Angels 
and all of heaven will laugh blue


Its always at goodbye
that I startle like a doe,
but I will say we love you 
till someday we meet aglow


So wait for me in tomorrow
with a sparkle in your eye,
I’ll bring you news of home
and on neon wings we’ll fly


And now I’ve said these words
I shall slowly fall apart,
knowing that your gone
is ripping at my heart


………………………………………………………Rip,till someday meets Forever


For My Kids Nana who Passed on the 30th October 2009
Form: Verse

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