Long Geographic Poems
Long Geographic Poems. Below are the most popular long Geographic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Geographic poems by poem length and keyword.
Clans, Ilks and Tartans
Woven into threads of red and black,
Girded by grids of white,
Distant plaintive bagpipe memories
Of sunset over Kilmaurs –
A crest that bears a unicorn
Touches royal roots
As a poet’s tribute to a patron lost
Watches neighbors Campbell and Montgomerie
Then looks out on the seas from tidal lands
Of Ayrshire in flings and reels with swirling kilts
When explorer’s feet recall on new world shores
The mew of seagulls soaring –
Politicians, engineers and entrepreneurs -
Over Fork Over – Cunningham, a clan of auld.
Blocks of green and wine
Stripped with blue
Look back into the heather
Covering highland hills of country dances
Where spring wanders in hunting kilts
Beneath clear cerulean heavens,
Boldly enduring;
A crest that bears a coronet
Of storied noble and knight
Whose melancholy legend
Whispers in glens and gloaming
Of standard bearers for a king
Watched by Ogilvy and Stewart
Lindsay, a clan of auld.
Like sunlight bouncing off of autumn leaves
In crimson, golden amber, umber greening hues -
A sword dance of squares and lines in twirling kilts -
Near the sparkling waters of Loch Lomond;
Clan neighbor Graham and cousins MacCammon
See the crest adorned by a coronet
Prize of battle;
The wind remembers
Tiny windswept island Clarinch -
A battle cry of Clar Innes -
Campaigns of kings and exiled queens –
Chieftain’s seat sees a president and prospector -
Hence the brighter honor – Buchanan, a clan of auld.
Cousins of the same ilk
Bear the names of families -
Of highland lands
And lowland memories -
Seaside and mountain territories -
Kilts wearing colors interwoven patterns
Born of clans with
Tartans telling legends and the stone of destiny,
Plaids dancing at the piper’s hand,
Ancient names, though maybe hidden, still live –
Cunnyngham, Lindsey and MacCammon
Of Buchanan –
In Celtic refrains like iridescent whispers
Woven through clans of auld.
This is the story of my Scottish heritage through the mottos, the tartans, the history and geographic references to the clan homes.
As a rainbow of the sunset descends
and the balmy breeze washes over sand
that tickles between toes and carefree hand,
I’m in the company of valued friends.
The deceptive calm of darkening sea
where the cormorants dive for their last meal,
the leeward shadows of the rocks turn teal –
I would not wish in other place to be.
The windsurfers had furled colourful kites.
Easterly wind had died down for the day
and sharks are out to forage and for play
in riptides, lurking out of reach of lights.
I lift my eyes to the offing distant,
the aspect of which is ever constant.
INSPIRED BY:
Sonnet VI,
by William Lisle Bowles
Poetic form: BOWLESIAN SONNET
***************************************************
*offing: (n) The sea-level horizon is the geographic horizon at sea level. One of the best places to see the sea-level horizon is a beach. The ocean and the sky provide a clean, flat line where the Earth seems to meet the sky. If you’re standing on the beach looking out at the sea the part of the sea that ‘touches’ the horizon is called the 'offing'.
The Redwood Trees are among the largest living organisms in existence.
How large are they? Can you imagine how large our God is if He allows these trees to capture our attention?
They among the largest gymnosperm calls us from afar,
The average weight a million pound all around, if it falls you will hear the sound miles and miles away. Every day you see it, even thousands of miles in the air, no comparing to its size.
It is without any conscious intent, that I will see this majestic beauty's one day for myself.
There are two main energies love and fear, we're inundated with things to fear, but this here is love unspeakable near.
From the national geographic, hangs on the wall 6 guys in the tree, both low and tall, standing secure enough not to fall.
Can you imagine how large our God is, with no tears, but cheers, to hear that He is near, no fear, but love He has for all who calls on Him who stands straight and tall waiting for our call and that's not all, I will not fall. My God, my God, I hear your call and I stand straight and tall!
The thug’s greedy plan was ill-fated.
“Beware of the dog!” the sign stated.
Sharp teeth pierced his butt.
He screamed, “Get off, mutt!”
Desire to steal quickly abated.
For Samson, fame was just beginning.
This brave dog would set the world spinning
with such doughty deeds,
supplying the needs
of many while great kudos winning.
He quickly developed the power
to fly. There exists not ONE tower
inhabited by
trapped ladies who sigh.
Now all the bad guys hide and cower.
This thug-throttling canine has muscle.
He comes out on top in a tussle,
but he’s brilliant too.
To Mensa* he’s new.
Competing with him, humans hustle.
This grand rise to fame was engendered
when Samson so actively hindered
an evil guy's plan.
Now many a fan
admires him for services rendered.
howmanysyllables.com 9--9--5--5--9 per stanza
He-dog--canine version of "he-man"
*Mensa is the largest and oldest high IQ society in the world.
In an annual Mensa competition, usually held in April, Mensa teams from around the U.S. and Canada compete within their local geographic area.
March 16, 2022
SOUP SAFARI
, , , ,
here I am in NYC...packing after a safari –theme night party
with Soup members two nights ago, filled with awed revelry.
shrieks whistling on linked arms during a photo shoot,
as live cheers of Constance and Andrea went “ whoot!”
while Debbie and Michael hosted “Tag, you’re ‘It’ “games
bringing Nikko and Sara to compete in spelling members’ names…
I still remember Robert H. reciting his comic spiels, what a blast!
our jaws locked from clapping at Dr. Ram’s impromptu dance act,
till Kashinath segued into a sitar rap in his flashy jungle attire
prompting Linda to donate PM prizes, much to our hearts’ desire.
on our table, an exciting blend of brew amped repartee’s pitches
amused by Brian fleshing parts of short forms without glitches,
enter wacky Sydney applying geographic values to long verse usage
with footnotes on how worlds expand over time from poetic vantage,
oh, how Gwen sparkled with pleasantries as cups of jokes poured
most memorable of all, the warm personal shares of soupers' world
that drew us closer as real people with scraps here and there
recalling red-cherry days and funny bloopers’ wear and tear…
and as I leave from 8th street hailing a taxi to catch a plane,
notes and album tugged this heart, anticipating next gang’s chain.
copyright
, , , , ,
DEDICATED TO P.D: get well soon and take your daily dose your soup!
*notes: with admiration for soup members included herein... all in the
name of pure fun!
* Gwendolyn Rix, Brian Strand, Sydney Peck, Myself
* For Michael Falotico’s Table for Four/ P.D Soup Contest
* by nette onclaud
Disguised as an Apple Computer Technician.
He initially hacked Macbook Pro laptop.
He (alias Harvey Specter)
planted seeds of suspicion
that criminal activity prevailed
within my geographic area in general
or questionable individuals
lurked within or without
Citizens Bank in particular,
and suggested yours truly (me)
to be wary about
over friendly employees
at aforementioned capital one
storied financial institution.
Said gonif (pulled a masterful subterfuge)
inveigling yours truly to carry out heist
of the twenty first century
against his honest good n plenti resources
(subsequently checking and
savings accounts severely depleted).
The invisible webbed wide whirled net
ensnared me lock, stock and barrel.
Little did I know
the spellbinding impact
until the dirty deed done dirt cheap
found writer of these words
figuratively holding the empty bag
where I got forced to trod
analogous highway to hell
courtesy diabolical, inimical, satanical...
devil may care disguised cozener
who wove believable scenario
claiming Citizens Bank employees
involved in suspicious conspiracy
to siphon off hard earned bucks.
I submissively consented
to participate and cavalierly disperse
freshly minted Benjamins
suddenly linkedin
chain of events
rocketing, kickstarting, and experiencing
a worse horror than death
mortified at being bushwhacked.
The feeble explanation, justification,
qua obliteration, ululation
trumped with lame excuse
yours truly not in his right mind.
Mind control, (albeit remotely)
assassinated rationality while hypnotically
feeling commanded, governed,
née kid lee killed
mine esprit de corps
among kith and kin
consigning thrifty troubadour
to the depths of despair
wishing termination of existence
in tandem with damnation, interrogation,
penalization, et cetera of nasty brute.
After series of unfortunate events brought,
where innocence and naïveté caught
teetotaler tempted to drink deadly draught
of top quality hemlock sold
at many bustling entrepôt
cuz now existence fraught
with torturous quaking
nauseating, kickstarting hatred
of self, thus restitution
of funds sought
by folks willing bestow largesse.
If yes check out (fiasco from fraudsters
frazzles father)
legitimate platform
where charitable people swarm
and toys are sold.
Global warming
Polar bears do not have a name for it
They have not read about it in Geographic
But they are dying anyway
Pollution of our oceans
Whales are turning up dead
Animals are swallowing oil
Seals are throwing themselves off cliffs
Assault rifles
Anybody with a credit card can get one
Mowing down people at concerts
Or in grade schools
Or just co-workers you do not like this second
Divorce statistics
Abortion debates
A nation divided
People generalizing each other
“All Democrats, all Baptists, all Republicans”
Division
Anger
Hatred
Death
When will it stop?
The little wolverines are swiftly prowling by
the moon arrives to peer then nigh n' nigh
it gives away to sound, hooves and mental folly
as canis greys howl deep by bullet, rifle, brolly
The forest folds her secret from here to eternity
while the hunter puts down gun and armory
The moon bids last adieu and then she swift departs
while wolves lay photographed for sake of purit-art;
A deadly give away for aim and single shot
"you either love them, or you love them not"
Geographic love of animals and prey,
even bestial animals know how to pray.
August 11, 2018
A lifetime of waiting, stacks of National
Geographic half as tall as me, piled on
every step. A girl with nothing to do but dream.
The yellow-black jackets buzzed, I flowered
as I turned the pages. The relics of Tutankhamun
fascinated: gold, turquoise, lapis and the slaves
in mud-brick houses they live in still.
I longed to be the Pharaoh’s daughter;
I kohled my eyes.
Egypt called to me. Pyramids, deserts baking,
heat mirages, and oases of palms with still blue water.
The twenty-first century’s reality is far different.
Cairo teems with discontent, Mubarak’s campaign
posters hung from each lamppost.
Two weeks before the Arab Spring, I was there.
The only safety found behind the gun-guarded,
razor-wired gates of the upper class, and even then—
A country espousing religious freedom was killing
Coptic Christians in the streets, and bombing churches.
Cairo’s one poster child synagogue stood empty,
except for tourists—dark, decorative, haunting,
full of tales of Christ’s sojourn in Egypt?
The pyramids rose hen-pecked by pollution
through a surreal orange sky. Masked women
walk the male dominated streets. Women
live in fear in or out of the hijab.
The majesty of yesteryear, the pyramid of Giza
squats like a discard in the ashtray of desert.
Vendors and tourist litter the site.
Baksheesh is the only God in Egypt,
baksheesh and the horded water of the Nile.
First Published in here & there magazine
in the UK
How long can Mankind's world perform
Without a common language norm?
This world that many tongues divide
To satisfy some primal pride
But cannot, in a global sense,
Dispel mistrust and ignorance.
While every tongue should be revered
For its own worth - its place endeared
Within its context each embraced,
Its local, native, customs traced -
We still need one tongue which should be
Developed interactively.
But now the many languages
Our history encourages
Reflect the man-made boundaries
Of geographic destinies
With self-protecting vanities:
Racial, ethnic conformities.
A spoken, written common base
That can be practiced face-to-face -
To share our thoughts and hopes and fears -
To discuss freely peer to peer,
Not translated through others' voice
Or speaking through selective choice.
One common language taught with care
To people living everywhere -
To help nuture a stable world
That all can share - and well deserved
That gives a sense of worldwide pride:
A common language to provide.