Long Frantic Poems
Long Frantic Poems. Below are the most popular long Frantic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frantic poems by poem length and keyword.
Amber light spills across the shifting floor,
As trade winds comb the wide, uncrowded shore.
Ghostly sand crabs roam the sunny beach,
Scurrying back to caves just out of reach.
While hermit crabs—like fiddlers in the track—
Carry their borrowed houses on their back.
Seaweed lies scattered along the wet strand,
As busy beach-hoppers leap across the sand.
Left in the wake, a colorful display
Of scattered shells lies brightening the day:
Scotch bonnets shine, and ridged-back cockles gleam,
With bay scallops and coquina in between.
The empty conchs speak secrets of the deep,
While smooth olive shells and sand dollars sleep.
As rushing waves pass over wet sand beds,
The hidden sand fleas duck their tiny heads,
And try to bury deep beneath the foam
Before the pulling water returns home.
Along the surf, the sandpipers race,
Chasing the foam in a frantic pace,
Probing the wet sand for something to eat,
Dancing away on their tiny feet.
Clear water crests in a brilliant blue,
Crashing down with a rhythm true,
Irregular waves roll up the shore,
Then pull back out to the sea once more,
A muffled, deep, resounding ring,
Like diving deep where the ocean swells sing.
Just past the shallows, the water is clear,
Where the lip of the wave starts to appear.
Bright silver mullets dart through the green,
Leaping and twisting, a beautiful scene.
Small striped sweeps ride the tubular curl,
Gliding suspended in a liquid swirl,
Caught for a moment inside the glass,
Watching the beach and the walker pass.
High overhead, the white gulls lean and soar,
Riding the updrafts of the quiet shore.
A noble pelican slows in the sky,
Eyeing the shallows where the breakers lie,
It folds its wings to make the final dive,
While in the dark, the deep sea stays alive.
Ultramarine Dream
Infra indigo sky meets ultra marine horizon.
Infinity pool beside wonderful wide vast ocean.
Your swimming costume in sapphire satin to glow glisten.
Your alluring glances whelming on ecstatic illusion.
On your sky-blue cap reflection of sunrays slips flashes.
Infra indigo sky meets ultra marine horizon
Me sinking in blinking of your deep charcoal eye lashes.
Your lustrous arogant beauty blazing on moist lustrine..
Enjoying soothing aqua touch:Spring is the season
.Seems floating on ocean.frantic excitement to feel
. Infra indigo sky meets ultra marine horizon
Eager hearts twisting whirling twirling in tremendous thrill.
Drinking dormant desires drowning in ultramarine dream.
Boundless joy soaring high without specific reason
As if swimming on ocean vision extending to brim.
Infra indigo sky meets ultra marine horizon.
11/13/21
"U" Contest new poems by La Constance France
A tilting lurch, a sudden frantic spin,
A jump to almost catch the edge of lightning,
An unlived memory of a forgotten house
restrains in broken bondage,
Closing my fist, I let the beguiling bolt drop.
My boot heels clatter madly on the boards,
a dizzy, breathless waltz with near disaster.
The room spins out in a manic wheel of gold,
curtains snapping like sails in a sudden gale,
Futures not yet realised now rewritten,
Pain once known never suffered, bright and radical glory.
No weeping halls. No empty, hollowed rooms.
No renounced hearts left bleeding on the stairs.
This is a riot of sound and light,
CHAOS,
A flash where the curtains tear wide open,
Your true colours splash across this bold new world,
fresh scarlet paint, sharp as a neon sign.
I see the trap door.
I see the warning flare,
and laugh right into the teeth of the storm.
A stumble, a catch, a wild and swinging recovery.
The gravity of a world where lessons learned snaps into place,
and I hit the ground with both feet running.
The drama stays, though mellow shadows burn away.
The burden of hauling millstones formed through marbled deceit rescinded,
The phantom heart once locked in rhythmic tempo with my own
Flatlines.
Ceases beating,
To be replaced with the thrill of the pivot,
The euphoric rush of escape.
I shake the dust from my trail weathered coat,
Grinning at the sky:
unscratched, untamed,
A heart completely unbroken.
Wild with unbounded energy tonight,
I eschew my med's; but I soon then hear
the frightful voices trumpet in my ear;
they haunt me into the stillness of night
as I transform into a monstrous sight
(a version of myself which I most fear,
and dread, as mania befalls me). Dear
God! why am I accursed with this dire plight!?
Life with bipolar disorder feels tragic,—
it's like a trial by fire, a hard test:
sometimes this dark disease makes me frantic
with madness, rapture, and profound unrest
so vile that I become full-blown manic;
then I am overwhelmed, and feel unblest!
...He flipped through the paper he’d bee given,
And saw the name ‘Ms. Karen Mallory,’
his mind reeled again, incredulous,
that was the girl he had saved by the sea!
Soon enough he was dragged into a court
and Ms. Mallory did loudly attest
that without consent he had kissed her,
and pawed like a pervert at her breasts!
His lawyer counter,”Consent can’t be given
when a person is hurt and unconscious,”
that nothing he did be called sexual,
and that a good soul could do nothing less.
Mallory’s activist lawyer shot back,
“Maybe she would have preferred a death
to knowing that she was violated,
forced to breath in a molestor’s breath.”
She prattled about body sanctity,
how even frantic times did no excuse men
from shamelessly groping defenseless girls
who were not able to give their consent.
Dylan rolled his eyes so many times
that he though they’d fall out of his head,
he’d known Feminazis could be extreme
but this pair was functionally brain-dead!
He expected most folks would see the truth
and recognize that he’d done a good deed,
nut one day a friend sent him a link
and told Dylan it was something to read.
He gaped as he read a professor’s rant,
filled with reasoning utterly absurd,
claiming that death did not justify ‘groping,’
never had he seen such nonsense words.
Then the many ‘minds’ on the internet
all chimed in with their digital voice,
half said that he was a would-be rapist
that unconscious girls could not avoid!
Then the media latched onto it,
made it their outrage-scandal of the week,
with people declaring ‘unconscious consent’
as a dark too of ‘The Patriarchy.’
And of course his boss feared the attention
so Dylan was quickly drummed out of his job,
for trying to step up and do the right thing
of a living he’d wrongly been robbed.
Inside the court they pointed to wild nights
to try to smear him with misogyny
regardless of the fact that his night life
had nothing to do with events on the beach!
In the end, at least, the jury chose right
and saw his actions for just what they were,
still the media called it travesty,
an ‘act of oppression’ against her.
As he walked out a reporter pressed close,
said,”Can you tell me what you learned inside?”
“Yes, next time you see a feminazi drown,
you’d be better off just letting her die.”
IV.
As the werewolves all funneled to that narrow gorge,
the brush was pulled away, revealing a cannon’s bore,
the beasts were to furious to see they were caught,
Bob pulled back on the cord, fired silver grape-shot.
Small spheres of silver shot out like a big shot-gun,
carpeting the eight monsters in their frantic run,
the beasts were thrown backwards, the silver cutting deep,
only one of the monsters managed to keep his feet.
The rest all went down, with painful howls they died,
the survivor couldn’t walk, but he desperately tried.
Sol turned and looked down, at predators turned to prey,
and saw the last survivor wore the vertebrae.
Sol turned to Bob, motioned to the dying monster,
said,”After what this fool did, none would call in murder.”
Bob took out his gun, and with his heart thumping fast,
sent Alamo Rick to hell with one mighty blast.
And in the moonlight they saw the bodies returns
to the forms of men who had met the fate they earned.
“Deals with the devil always seem to end like this,
it all starts out with power, then leads them amiss.”
It was the next morning when the town all came out,
the sight of ruined bodies snuffing out all doubts,
some thanked Sol for his courage, but some were afraid,
some called him a mad killer, while others just prayed.
For several weeks after Sol remained in town,
he slept with the line-girls, drank lots of whiskey down,
until one day a post-riders gave him a small slip,
he frowned and prepped his horse for a very long trip.
But before he left, he came up to Bob Harney,
said,”Write to this address if you ever need me.”
Without another word his horse loped down the road,
Bob watched him, not knowing where the man might next go.
The reverend found him their, and saw his confusion,
said,”It’s his job, and he’s done it for a while son.
Did you think only evil can flew its power?
That God would leave us alone in our darkest hour?”
He clapped Bob on the shoulder, and left him to his thoughts,
pondering what he’d seen, and all that they had wrought.
Bob folded the address, slipped it into his vest,
and headed back towards his house, in need of some rest.
The first time I heard it my heart jerked,
And upon its frantic search I embarked;
The more I discovered the more the mystery it held,
And the more I guessed, the more it bore out all my surmises,
Until a victim to an uncertainty I became,
A prisoner to unpredictable surprises.
When I thought I's fed up with my wild fancy and turned to go
(I wouldn't continue doing the same thing for it had begun to bore),
The Name's mystery held me back
(Somehow my mind had to it permanently stuck),
And every time I whined that I wanted to leave,
The Name urged me a little more to believe
And assured that it would be my hope both night and day.
It proved to me that once you began the engaging play,
The Name entrapped the whole of your life!
And today I'm happy for my discovering a Magical Name;
Though it held me a prisoner to its belief,
By it I've soared all the ladders of opulence and fame;
Through it I've found for my life profound calm and relief.
Turned on the TV to see what they'd say
There's crowds in the streets all around the UK
Shelves being ransacked at Tesco all day
It's happening too in the U S of A
My TV depicting an end, clearly near
With Donald Trump there and Brexit right here
Then back to the masses, although it’s unclear
Whether it's panic or madness or fear
They're showing us scenes of emptying shelves
With mobs going frantic, all out for themselves
TVs get lifted from where they were racked
It's easy to see that society's cracked
Hoarders are scooping up baked beans and bread
Brand names all gone, own label instead
'Food for my family', is what one said
'I've got to provide for fear they'd be dead’
Coffee and alcohol, biscuits and cakes
Sausages, burgers, bacon and steaks
Folk grab at board games with ladders and snakes
And luxury watches, both real ones and fakes
And now the news treats us to Donald Trump's face
He's saying he's set for a nuclear race
He's gonna build brick walls all over the place
Cos the US is full and there ain't no more space
So they're panicking far and they're panicking near
The whole of the western hemisphere
The Ruskies have nukes and they're all pointing here
It seems that the mobs are in justified fear
Then back to the markets and bustling streets
Shopping bags bulging with with copious eats
Vegetables, fruit and myriad meats
All crammed into car boots and on the back seats.
Now we view traffic jammed up standing still
Ambulance racing to someone who's I'll
Drivers attempting to show some goodwill
No room to maneuver for sirens so shrill
Then back to the clambering hands and shelves bare
Frantic swipes reach for the last items there
Desperate housewives pulling out hair
Their trollies still holding a square inch of air
As fighting breaks out in aisle number eight
Some fellow bought milk... An entire crate
But what made the other bloke really irate?
The last crate was taken by the first bloke's mate
I turn in shame from my TV
Can't bare to see the things I see
Where once we had humanity
This war has brought depravity
But as I turn, the room to leave
I hear the words I can't believe
Do my eyes and ears deceive?
This is not war... It's Christmas Eve
*Image of Dr Mikhail Tyaglyy
AUDIO version for the vision impaired.
Dr Mikhail Tyaglyy
Go, young man,
and conciliate cravings,
menacing palls the cherished
realm. Shelves are left barren
for frantic looks, as aisles
reload a virtuous plunge of
cobwebbed books, decaying
prints accolades of vice barren
save one issue ...
record stamped BUNKER.
Youths immersed
in causality and confidence,
protest keeps step as discord
spreads outward.
Mein Kampf now theirs,
whimsical misfits and loose
ends, melee erupts as age and
gender are trivial.
Young Romanis heed,
while zeal enlivens heels
as a body passes by,
in lieu of a gurney --
a wheelbarrow suffices.
Cadaverous festers,
for the emboldened few,
dare pierce opacity,
glimmers flit defiant palls,
as capricious spells
law books are easily tainted,
usurpers once blind,
struggles timorously
in their judicial robes.
If e'er survivors
from off the streets,
perchance a hearing,
they'll hear an echoing
in the silent courtroom,
'tis the calm ere the
storm, calamity on
trial, as justice for the
dead is made more dead
than death itself.
50s long gone bigotry kept
Santayana periods of disorder
a bedlam of societies rise
aphoristically said,
"Those who cannot remember
the past,
is condemned to repeat it".
~~a floor lies hope, shift ends, dustpan waits a couple more years.
2022 July 29
*1st Place*
Dr. Mikhail Tyaglyy
~~Joe Maverick: Judged 2022 July 31
And so, yet again, the truth unfolds.
And so, yet again, your heart his hand holds.
And so, yet again, viciously, your light crumbles due to some other.
My love, will you now learn, yet again, they're nothing but a bother?
I am the one to have named you star
I am the one who caringly observes you from afar
For year on end, neglected
What all those before withheld, indebted
The truth held
You, the light whom, in their voids, will forever dwell
Eclipsing, they couldn't help but desire for validation
To falsely prove superior to those who refuse defection
Men, no other than selfish men
Envious of your beauty, authentic
Though of course, in all you excel
Skin, mind and soul, all perfectly woven
The attention you pay them has me frantic
My star, oh my star. If only you knew..
the whole universe you imbue!
Your warmth embeds love,
through every darkness, your light wove
Your stitched up imperfections, we call constellations
A regard, muse to the celestial giants
Those eyes, Saturn's rings, in softer form
Jupiters palette, all the more
Beyond stands someone strong,
unlike them non-violent
I observe now, not far, but from within
A flame refusing to wither or dim
So i hope you now see,
as i always did
That you are love
Its root, its pulse, its origin
And fear not the black holes, greedy and wide
For they cannot consume what burns inside
Let silence cradle you, soft and slow
For even in its hunger, stars hold their glow
For even in stillness, stars will grow and claim their reign
And even in spaced solitude, stars rise again