Long Flotsam Poems
Long Flotsam Poems. Below are the most popular long Flotsam by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flotsam poems by poem length and keyword.
Slipping away,
then hands tuck you back in
arrange your sheets in the dark
while you float
connected to dank viaducts
that drain your body
only to feed a conscious
plasma back to you.
It is almost beautiful
this slipping away and returning.
As flotsam you are part
of a humming communion,
momentarily you belong
with those others
who have drained gently away.
The reappearance of yourself
brings with it a vision,
an unknown hand holding yours.
Though you cannot now place her,
it is beautiful how she knit you together
from a few threads of life
with just a lingering touch.
Stayed with you
amid your coming and goings.
You want to know her name.
to kiss her like a lover
or a mother
but no doubt
she will not even remember,
or maybe she now needs you
and you don’t miss her enough?
Streams of water
at diurnal disposal,
drip
dolce far niente.*
Lavish fill
of cavernous sink—
flotsam thoughts.
Spring up, O well!
Sing about it,
about the well that the princes dug,
that the nobles of the people sank—
the nobles with scepters and staffs.**
Paradise, O living water!
Songs bursting from pipes.
Wanderings soon over.
Like valleys they spread out,
like gardens beside a river,
like aloes planted by the Lord
like cedars beside the waters.
Water will flow from their buckets;
their seed will have abundant water.***
Water’s free
moving, soothing.
Lovely sprinkler,
O lovely splash!
Dare poet’s eyes
take time
to ponder; her lips
pursue splendor
of fountain paean.
10/11/2021
*pleasant relaxation in carefree idleness
**Numbers 21:17-18 NIV
***Numbers 24:6-7 NIV
Caught in the middle with nowhere to go
Between two strong-willed women
Manipulators according to their wiles
Related to one by blood
The other by dint of wedlock
Which one has the greater pull
On the tide of his wracked emotions
The chosen controller of his home
Or the one with the tidal power
of blood shared by her birth?
How he is tossed and torn
Amidst the twin but hostile competing tides
Mercilessly dragging him one way ,then the other
Swamping his compass of clear thought
With loyalty tested and doubted
By the partisan and opposing currents
Whose anger remains unbridled
And unforgiving to the depths of their very souls
Fighting their unrelenting battle
In towering crests of surging emotion
Hoping to gain total supremacy
Over him who is no more than a piece of flotsam
In this relentless clash of tsunamis
Being dragged ever deeper by both irresistible forces
In the competing riptides of disturbed and irreconcilable passions,
Leaving him feeling helpless
As he loses the will to live.
would what that be junior? senior? sophomore?
since this brother in law rarely emails,
ye may scrunch countenance puzzled,
or on verge of emitting flatulence,
that if a ripper got let loose (by Jack),
would possibly find ja propelled,
thru Edgar Allan Poe's churchly
sepulchral tintinnabulation
(where for greater effect
yukon envision imagistic ravenous bats
in belfry resonating air,
or perhaps blasted back
to the House of the rising sun),
BUT...gnome hatter,
no win tent may starkly appear
explaining inexplicable reasonable rhyme,
why aye dash communique
minus virtual trumpeting blare
(sorry, but in the interest
of belated birthday cheer,
without computer generated imagery)
rendered hoop fully readable,
sans black and white Scottish matted pixels
constituting beloved appellation
unsure how to address ye perfectly clear
while sitting atop padded office chair,
pondering as already writ,
how to acknowledge thee, whither with dear...
meanwhile, this scribe experiences
comfortably numb derriere,
now scrambling, resorting, and toying
to fetch acceptable, catchy light hearted endear
mint, that seems tolerably acceptable
(of course) with flair
acutely perceptive, though NOT overboard with glare
ring obeisance, NOR USE ALL CAPS
TO SCREAM so ye kin hear
soap hull ease excuse this incurable
Harris scribe with thinning heir
yes...oye gevalt, infantile regression finds me
burrowed in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania lair
still emotionally inchoate, though grown a mere
speck within the flotsam and jetsam near
to boyhood Collegeville abode NOT saved by a prayer
re: home companion bachelor Norwegian farmer
replaced instead by vinyl city
all in the name of progress
which (once a pawn a time)
open farmland did dis app pear
so...a gam bulling gambit
to avoid moseying down Level Road...
may NOT seem *****
for insufferable sadness
with eyes bursting with many a tear...
(gulp) tis best to veer
away from topic uh viz er rated razed homestead,
and mainly wish ye another birth year!
adieu...from math tha hue
Endless pulse of ocean's dance
carries flotsam to the sand.
Every day another chance,
prodded by an unseen hand.
Such a love I've never known—
waves crest on his brilliant mind—
after many nights alone,
sure there was no love to find.
The gentle wisdom in his voice,
urging wind-tossed heart to mend.
Remember, love is not a choice,
it finds its harbor in the end.
Such a kindness in his eyes—
passion sets my world afire,
and once more, to my surprise,
his whispers with my hopes conspire.
The sea has washed this love ashore,
and I, the beachcomber, unaware.
A glinting pebble, lost before—
just walking, I have found it there.
Friday, June twenty first, two
thousand nineteen at eleven fifty
four ante meridian eastern daylight
time finds Earth's North Pole tilted
closest toward sun. This demarcates
most daylight hours of the year for
people living the northern hemisphere.
Just shy of high noon sun (less than
twelve hours from drafting these lines)
nearest star in solar system reaches
highest point in the sky.
Hence hasty intent to beat buzzer sound
dashing off riding figurative one seahorse
open sleigh madly awk cross cyber sea,
aye rudder sally forth (slogging thru
virtual flotsam and jetsam) with poetic
obeisance paid to average size ball of
Earth, wind and fire, my out of this
world quasi stellar benediction, since
Earthlings traveled thru space/time
continuum circa Stonehenge, or perhaps
bajillion years ago, when predecessors
of present day primates (coon sitter terribly
less a bomb bin hubble), versus twenty first
century *****sapiens predilection for total
mortal kombat graphically spiraling downward
zeroing (kamikaze like), analogy drawn,
viz subjective mathematical roulette curves,
albeit hypotrochoids and epitrochoids staining
countless grains of sand, count them yourself,
yielding result (somewhere very loosely
Cramped steps acquaint heavy hatch reluctant
Cushion hush cellar isolate, harsh sun migraines
Catapulted myopic into apocalyptic destruction
Crumple of coastal community permits my gains
Grim resilient, plotted alone, abided by rations
Tidal wave treachery turned streets to swamps
Flotsam tops remnants sea's fury didn't flatten
Successors gorge on corpses misfortunes crop
Erased ocean era, crook posts pitifully campaign
Brashly I churn bathtubs of backstroked arachnids
Inhabit rainforest ripple stream, source I can claim
Traverse canopy like trampoline, scout eyes active
8th March
Out of Mangrove
splinters
like splinters in the mind
thoughts that cannot be left behind
faded memories of self
like a photo on a shelf
behind that glassy shine
you're frozen forever in time
but as the flotsam rises
reality is divided
like shards of broken glass
are the shadows of the past
cutting you into two
as you march onward to your doom
you were fed from the bowl that they showed you
were bred to do what they told you
you marched in a line to a sleeping beat
you thought the world was at your feet
you've seen places you'll never be
heard things you'll never see
but you dream of being a big gun
to have played the game and won
tossed a coin and rolled the dice
for your chance to play in paradise
fighting against the tide
in the struggle to survive
to get back to where you began
up the stream to your end
from dust to ash
it's just another rehash
down the line you were led
your fears turned to dread
they told you you were free
they told you what to be
they told you what to see
Autumn unreeled
Forests shaken hollow
settling
like shipwrecked beauty
Tree masts of moss
Colourful mobs of decay
unspooling
Last strands of conceit
Rag tag laurels
capsized
casual drift of sacrifice
Diced leaves of October,
change
that drains potency
Resplendent wreckage
An unraveling season
faint
in slim, silvered light
Outcomes unavoidable
with fertility plundered
Gold leaf patches
fallen
treasures washed overboard
a trail of flotsam
in the lost ego of summer
Ragged contortion
in sea-water cold
in a quiet that marks
transition
Poem composed: Spring 2020
(Revised September 29th, 2022)
Blow-ball and Cankerwort,
words born from a common tongue.?
Lions tooth, ?
Priests Crown, ?
Moles Salad and piss-a-bed.?
?
English is most practical ?
when it is rustic and colloquial.
‘Swine Snout’ snorts loud upon the page.
The yarrow-yellow flowers last for hours
then overnight turn to fairy bones.
I recall us both sat upon the grass
blowing unfettered puffs into the wind,
our hair littered with stemmed parasols
the pirouetting flotsam of the airborne.?
?
The damply dunked sounds of sneeze-helicopter's,?
the muddy splatter of piggy snozzles.
Lions Teeth are its leaf, mix well with Burdock
for a low tea under a shady tree.
Beware of false dandelions such as ?
cats ears and coltsfoot.?
The Chinese, Pu Gong Ying is the real thing.
After we had covered each other
with dandelion kisses
we made hay the old fashioned way.