Long Hydration Poems
Long Hydration Poems. Below are the most popular long Hydration by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hydration poems by poem length and keyword.
Dawn strums the morning with a melody of waves
My head is pounding, I'm in a daze
I just can't remember how I ended up here
On an island in the middle of nowhere
I stumble to my feet with sudden despair
The mosquitoes have feasted on me all night
It dawns on me that I could die here
But I know I must put up a fight
There's an abundance of coconuts here
A source of hydration, and food as well
I gather as much as I can
While thinking of ways to build a fire
I got soothing relief from an aloe plant
And applied to my itching skin
A seagull comes by daily
To watch me and take it all in
I found a flint stone which I'll use
To start my signal fire
The seagull watched as my fire trembled to life
It danced as it became a blaze
I breathe a sigh of relief
As to the roaring sea I gaze
After six months passed, I still had hope
I'd be rescued, it helped me cope
I kept hoping someone would see my signals,
Perhaps even a fisherman
Then a few days later I see a boat!
And it's coming towards me!
It had seen the signal
I'll be rescued finally!
Everything was green and lush as I walked the hiking path,
little did I know that soon I would be hopelessly lost and
entangled by the forest with foliage impermeable. I walked
miles. Soon I was weary and so thirsty, I knew it was a requisite,
even perhaps death, I needed water soon or die. Suddenly a
needed precipitation, a sweet drizzle of cold rain falling on me from
twisted branches above in the tree canopy. I cupped my hands and drank.
Stillness surrounded me, not even the birds sang, all was quiet.
Pausing, I then heard the sound of water in the distance calling to me,
and I started to walk in that direction, energized by the thought of the coolness,
running through the thorns and decaying fauna, stopping and starting,
twisting and turning. I stood there panting listening and still hearing water.
Then I rested on the decomposing forest floor and fell asleep and dreamt . . .
How did I get to this lovely place of waterfalls and brilliant foliage and a
river of icy blue flowing into a lagoon with flowers blooming and trees so green.
Every perfect thing you could image was before me. I plunged into the lagoon,
exhilarated. How I needed the hydration and I drank to invigorate myself.
Wonderful sprays of serenity held me and I never wanted to leave,
and under the moon I swam and dived in the emerald blue iciness, but
then, I awoke and knew I was not of this realm anymore. I was to be
eternally part of the icy blue, a water fairy dwelling in a beautiful lagoon,
reality gone, now I am the crystallization of water, a sweet hazy reverie.
From my watery grave, I whisper to you in dreams, come my lovely, come
and join me in the misty blue, oh it is magical where I dwell in water deep.
In my realm all is tranquil and peaceful and we can float free and calm,
rest your soul in my crispness all the night, come my lovely, come. I promise,
you can leave when you wish- or perhaps you will stay with me in the icy blue.
_______________________________
April 1, 2016
Poetry/Acrostic/Elements Part Three- Water Fairy
Copyright Protected, ID 16-773-743-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Elements Part 3: Water
sponsor, Brian Davey
First Place
Fever and Chills
History writes itself
invisible pens find surfaces unknown
private life
public life
fever and chills sleep together
heaving corrosive air
from colorless lungs
hearing but their own moans
their own cries of ecstasy
how loud
how soft
From boardroom
to bedroom
clinging to manufactured essence
flesh bleeds with century's plague
ignoring contagion's history past
nurturing instead
weed gardens of delusional orchid and rose
These darkened windows aloft
where seductive airs of passion molt
fail to hide the pores of covetous fantasy
gluttony's vaporous hydration
ready to flake
While all about
Ether's wake delivers
sirens and horns
delivering ambition's twisted celebration of death
one less emergency burden
one more dodging of tragedy's awareness
the One-Percenters' plunder
destined to erode
like sand castles knowing little of ebb's inevitable tide
How courageous for some
To incandesce amidst shallow atmospheres
even as infirmity goes unnoticed by those
embracing fleeting moments
momentarily exchanging covers enfolding profit reports
for the silk and satin kind
king size queen size
makes no difference
For these of duplicitous breath
life becomes but a fool's gold enlaced treadmill
unquenchable thirst crossing windblown lips
insatiable and voracious spoils
body upon body
The sickness passes its virulent infection
its waste-basket poisons
from all too anxious glad-hands
offering but copper-nickel-dime pilings
greed's weed defoliation of flowered chameleon hope
trickling downward
battling updrafts of street despair
as sidewalk survivors reach skyward
embracing the floating pocket change tearfully
As misery rages below
this citadel high above
protects blind-weary subjects
behind penthouse glass
sitting together
sipping cognac
turning up the Bang & Olufsen
reading sonnets they know nothing of
awaiting the recurring sirens and horns
Like children beneath pup tents of fantasy
they scurry close
securing their panic
denying the dark
Yet
They too will one day know virulence
and await their own
fever and chills
Preface: There is entirely too much water being consumed. People should be satisfied with thirst and being dry. They should think about desert sand, romancing dunes and bleached bones in repose.
People become inflated with hydration
Leaving faucets on, mouths wide open
Under the deluge of flowing water spouts
Every drop is counted against humanity
Wasted on stupid sacks of wet fluidity
Walking around with tongues hung drooling
Carbon based units most insidious when wet
Something is wrong when not forgotten
Hydration is the sin of water taken in
Environments remember every sin
Nature hates you because you take from it
The sum worth of oceans is in their taste
Is salt not dry? Is it the flavor of the day?
Environments are crying for revenge against humanity
Parched deserts are void of thinking water
There is no shame in thirst
Under the sun there is no shade to hide
Heat and land flow dry on to tomorrow
Adding water to a person porous is a sin
Being parched is not when plugged up properly
Emptiness can be dangerous but it is kind
This condition of dry is a state of holiness
There is nothing that a desert can not fix
That which buries you is friendly
Leakage is a crime against humanity
People who drink will end up in a well
Will sink in perpetuity to new depths
Hollow to the bitter end down in a hole
Not worthy of a soul worth drowning
Emptiness will follow you to oceans depths
In debt you will be swallowed whole by them
They rise to levels with high tides to float
To their horizons saturated with insurgence
Where will you go when waters stop you cold?
Fluid intake is a compromise to thirst
Don’t do it if you are wise
It weighs heavy on the bladder of the drinker
People who leak on lawns should not
Should be arrested and pay high fines
Urination is not the nation I had in mind
When I moved into the community
Actions have consequences when not dry
There is a cure called incarceration
It comes with a slice of bread but no water
Because that would be wrong
For the damage done to lawns
I'll climb
the tallest mountains with no stress,
I just need~
a helmet, rope, and other climbing gear,
warm layers, good boots, maybe some fear,
a bit of my heart in my mouth,
to chase the butterflies from my belly—
no need to fight against my shadow~
it'll be too tight upon the rock,
wrapped
as image around
the creeps
like a siamese twin
afraid to be
u n j o i n e d...
then, with gentleness,
without my blood running cold,
so the teeth of cold don’t bite too deep,
up my legs will climb~
a step at a time,
slow and steady~toward the top,
trusting my body to do the rest~
just pausing...
to refuel my throat and tum,
sip from the hydration bladder,
and from my backpack, grub a hiking snack...
When at the peak—/\
show me the bullet,
let me bite~
now too far for my feet to still be warm,
release the wings~~~
let me f l y
like an eagle~~~
let me s o a r
far into the sky where no star gleams
and no moon glows nor sun shines,
where angels peep~and I can see them
and the roars of lions are like
w h i s p e r s
and thunderbolt shouts are dim,
where s i l e n c e is loud, yet never speaks
where lights are like shadows,
with f l i c k s brighter than the sun,
and fires that burn with no flame—
just pale blue s m o t h e r s ~
in a womb so sullen and solemn.
Will I get friends among the a l i e n s,
if I fly~~~in a saucership, oxygen-filled,
and with dinitrogen oxide~ to force a laugh,
to rise from where l o n e l i n e s s
has thrown me:
down in the dump;
face like a wet weekend;
just to have the blues;
what if the saucercraft c r a s h - l a n d e d ?
Will I be found—still human—
like in
"There are Martians Among Us?"
But wait...
are the lights on, and no one at home?
am I far away with the fairies?
If true,
then there is
a method
to this
m a d n e s s.
Manifestations of your Gauzy Fantasies
Unravelling Bonds of Tangled, Mangled Destinies
Sun of Man Set His Right Eye on Me
Tenaciously Searing, Calculating
To Entrap Me, A Prisoner to His Needs
Inspired A Premedimated Deed did He
With Intent To Plant a Seed!
Stormed Wrecked and Invaded My Archipelago
Pirate Prowess, Sophomoric,
He Stared, I Jeered, Blotted Proviso Smeared
Drenched In Salted Sweet, Freshly Spring Showered Awhile Ago
Armpits Crying, Young Sun, I've Done No Wrong
No Shade to Evade the Soundless Seranade
As The Father, Not the Sun, Pearched In a Chariot
Cascaded, Paraded Crusade
Blazing Rays, No Mercy, No Refrain
Solar Purgatory, Solicited by the Solar Nova Hovering above Port-of Spain
Evaporated Senses, Smothered Disdain, Budding Foliage Scorched and Drained
Organically Syphoning Hydration Reserved for Lack of Rain
Heat Rashes, Depleted Cortizone Stashes
Senses Assunder, Lost in Wander
Drifting Sun Stroked, Begging Pardon, Parched and Punished In Port of Spain!
I shook him and shook him but he wouldn’t waken
He had to wake up to take his medication
It isn’t for pleasure or for recreation
But just for the sake of the USA nation
But on second thoughts, severe constipation
Or send him away on a lengthy vacation
or get him to queue for that new vaccination
For anything else could be mortal damnation
And then he awoke with some consternation
Where am I he said with much irritation
I think he was having a hallucination
He looked up and asked me, am I a Dalmatian?
It’s my job to offer a daily summation
I gave him the gen on the evacuation
We’re ending our Afghanistan occupation
Really, he said, has there been consultation?
I told him the Afghans now face conflagration
Afghan? he said, oh, a shaggy Alsatian
I knew this would be an inane conversation
His mind was a void, that's no exaggeration
You’ve pulled out too quickly in my estimation
Jill’s ironic nodding belied her frustration
He didn’t respond with a quick protestation
And Jill’s little grin was a saucy flirtation
The topic I changed to the Covid contagion
He needed to issue a communication
We need to consider some rules relaxation
His vacant stare offered no illumination
He said that that pot plant needs fast irrigation
He whipped out his weener and issued hydration
He grinned as he offered a brief explanation
My name is Joe Biden, for your information
What do you want from me?
I can tell you that I love you like the roots of a tree
I can tell you that I suck the water from the earth as a root. Desperate for hydration because you leave me so hungry
I can tell you that meeting you knowing you seeing you and watching you it's crucifixion
To know there's someone so like me in this world. My doppelganger my twin my flame
What do you want from me?
Is there a price tag you can put on? Love
If I could walk on the places that you've walked and know you walk there, I think your ghost alone would be enough for me
Oh but that is the stuff of obsession
I will not be obsessions ghost
If you could touch the coffee cup that I drank from I think that you would choose to stop and momentarily put your thumb on it for I know how much you love me
What is this?
Love this thing that will not be quieted
Love is supposed to be beautiful.
This is torment
This waking walking, speaking, talking reality of love is not some gentle go sweetly into the night
Bring me a flower kind of love.
This is love that demands all aspects of my body and my being to understand that I am connected to another human being
This is love the centers itself in my solar plexus and spreads out into my brain and my limbs and my fingers and my toes and I breathe in and breathe out this thing
I feel energy coming from beyond me into me and I can't stop it.
I don't want to
This is a totally new and unfamiliar energy.
a completely earning my soul
Is this simply an obsession?
Is this unholy or unhealthy or unworthy?
Or somehow unacceptable?
this total submission of my soul to another soul.
How is this even possible?
Coffee Stains
David J Walker
Those stains on the carpet
are from coffee
Split last Tuesday
Left because it is right
In the form of some
Unknow unnamed continent
Explorers are looking for
But will never find unless
They look beneath my desk
Or
Shaped like clouds that
Could be horses galloping
From Northeast to Southwest
But the meteorologist
Never look up and are
Never seen
on a computer screen
with naked European models
or
they are aliens
crossing our galactic borders
without passports
here to eat humans who
have grown fat and tender
and complacent and stupid
in sad and comical ways
and tinder for their
stellular campfires
or
it is a coffee swamp
filled with bacteria
that will eventually dry
but never die
needing only hydration
to revive its life
of evolution
or
you will come in and
see a coffee stain
you will spray it
and it will nearly
completely
disappear
into the fabric
saying
“When did this happen?
Where you just going to leave it?”
Sufficient hydration, she descended the sub-alpine track, distinctive inferno pine scent and the casuarina fragrance formed a perfume mix.
Arriving at a large rock, immediately crashes gently, her limbic suspension of both hands as a neutralizer for gravity, stops.
I am satisfied in front as a martyr, she is like a pendulum. In the nasti motion style, to hold her, heavy load.
Shift a few inches, grinding the ground, as the force of the collision, rush of breath, thirst, the sound of gulping water, chewing.
She chanted about circumference, cappellaing over his nesting clinks and fingers,
Fresh air,
clear sky,
light breeze,
towering mountain.
Looking at each other after reading the writing in the old paper.
I don't know what gestures are memeable style, full of etiquette.