Long Islands Poems
Long Islands Poems. Below are the most popular long Islands by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Islands poems by poem length and keyword.
I often think about Earth's oceans- deep
and taking up three-quarters of its size.
Our continents are islands in the sweep
of water worlds- alive beneath our skies.
Great depths of liquid mystery are they;
home of the largest sea life we have seen,
like whales- or giant squid that hide- away
in deep, dark voids below the surface scene.
Some life within our oceans do defy
the rules of nature that apply on land;
all shapes and sizes- lights that glorify
with bioluminescence- colors grand.
So many unsolved secrets lie within
the darkest depths of this aquatic realm.
Like cosmic space- our oceans are akin
in holding mysteries that overwhelm.
A universe its own, our oceans share
enigmas of strange life formed long ago.
Of many species, surely we're aware;
yet, others far from view, dwell deep below.
September 23, 2021
~1st Place~
Contest: "O" Contest, New Poems
Sponsor: Constance La France
Judged: 09/24/2021
Tropical shores rarely see explosions by their waters
Being places of tranquility, peace and love
Captain sank his ship between two islands
Paradise opened up a hole on the horizon
A condition, a catastrophe brought on
By the lunatic in charge of pirate lives
Canon aimed down on center deck and fired
Floor board’s splintered
The boat went down just like a rock
Crew knew too well their leaders mental state
More than an argh could save the day
Mutiny was out of the question
Boat was gone, down and wet
Their mad man ordered them to dance on water
To drink rum and shave their faces clean
Pirates are preoccupied however
Not with orders to be obeyed
Such absurdities will have to wait
When swimming from the sharks afraid
Beneath the pretty tropic waves
Good leaders cannot agree about world order
Yet many believe freedom is indivisible
Privileged tolerance then shall foil fool's fancy
If freedom is intrinsic in the human race
Will we agree it is a right for everyone
Are all fated for forever to find freedom
Why do some seem more worthy than distant others
Are we not basically best brothers and sisters
Seeing the future of our species all be free
While we all are dependent islands for freedom
We are still surely part of the main, just the same
Where are the wise who will make courageous comment
The battleground of the collective over self
Bloody wars have been blindly waged for eons
Solemn, silent gifts from the divine unanswered
The best citizens are citizens of the world
Is it true everyone shall think this way someday
Better angels can change nationalist egos
Free Verse 18 Lines
Attributions to:
Abe Lincoln, "Better Angels", 1st Inaugural Speech
John Donne, "part of the main", No Man Is An Island
J F Kennedy, "freedom is indivisible", Berlin Speech 1963
Rapper Chuck D, "the best American citizen is the citizen of the world",
World Citizenship: the individual and international governance
She removed the drops of perspiration from her forehead with the back of her garden glove, leaving nature’s makeup in its place, a small streak of brown soil. As I stared at her, she put her hand above her eyes in a salute to block the sun. With a quizzical look she said, “What?” I laughed out loud. “Nothing” I said, lowering my head and shaking it side to side. She extended her arm pointing to the bottom of the yard and proceeded to tell me her plans. I was too busy looking at her to hear the words. My eyes moved from her face tracing along her extended arm. In the sunlight, golden downy hairs glistened on her forearm. Small blue rivulets of vein flowed across the back of her hand, curving around tiny islands of age spots. At night she always used the latest cream, rubbing eagerly in hopes of erasing them. She never could read a map or she would have known, Landmarks define a territory. It is our familiarity with landmarks that make each place a home. At the tip of her outstretched finger I stopped, reluctant to continue, as my eyes would have to leave her. At her insistence, I forced myself. “You aren’t even looking.” she said impatiently. I responded with a half-truth, “I am looking.”
She taught me things I never knew about her garden. I never noticed her begonias remained in bloom into October. Her marigolds, in yellow spotted pots, were planted just for fun. Luxurious lupines leaned into squat hostas that hoarded space, bleeding hearts were all over the place. Beautiful tender crocuses were gone too soon. Pelted by early hail, stoned to death for their loveliness by angry, jealous gods. Vibrant coleus leaves, daisies, lilacs, and hollyhocks. Roses, pansies and morning glories, impatiens, all with different stories. Petunias, violets, and daffodils sharing space in flats or on hills. She introduced them to me one by one. I made a friend of each and when her the tour was done, I left her resting in the sun.
Like her flowers, she was looking toward Heaven, unaware that being with her I always felt as though I was already there.
***Collaborative by father and son...***
I'd like to tell a story
Of romance at it's best
I'll speak to you of deja-vu :F:
And you can dream the rest
This story is not a story
It's of truth you see
This woman who has caught my eye :S:
And how our relationship came to be
At first it came quite slowly
Then quickened in its pace
The first time that I held you :F:
Placed my lips upon your face
I looked into your eyes
And in translation I was lost
I felt you warmth and gentleness :S:
my breath turned into frost
The midnight moon is glowing
Our bodies are entwined
I felt the beating of your heart :F:
And knew that is mine
When you leave I blow you kisses
Upon returning I hold you tight
Your beauty is magnificent :S:
I'll adore you with all my might
Some days I'll send you flowers
The candies on its way
Our weekend trips to Mexico :F:
Lets pack, be on our way
I'll take you to the Virgin Islands
Or to the south of France
But when we are in Mexico :S:
We'll do the salsa dance
We've had a few cervesas'
Three or four scotches too
In the twilight hours :F:
I'll whisper I love you
See I'm a little different
I drink tequila with l lime
But when dancing ends and night time falls :S:
You will be all mine
In the morning hours
When we decide to wake
We'll drink our coffee darling :F:
Sweet love again we'll make
All through the night we're fixed
On fulfilling each others needs
So when the sun rises :S:
There are no romantic pleas
I've awakened to your pretty face
Now twenty years have past
My heart still beats our rhythm :F:
This love is meant to last
In our older years
When life has past us by
Our minds deteriorate and we cannot walk :S:
But our love will never die
The hair I have upon my chin
Has quickly turned to gray
For all our years together :F:
It's time to finally say
We're still one pea stuck in lifes' pod
Our love is here to stay :S:
Created by Jared L. Pickett & Richard Pickett....
Surrounded by tranquil turquoise waters,
Guarded on sides by oceans three,
In the east by the Pacific,
On the south by the Celebes Sea,
And on the west by the south China Sea,
There is an archipelago on the blue water crescent,
A group of islands, called Philippines,
Encircled by a girdle of gleaming silver,
With its shores of stretching sandy swell
That lulls the restless waves to sleep;
A land of green vegetation and terraced terrain!
It houses picturesque and breath-taking views.
Vast beaches of ivory sand sprawl before our eyes
Dolphins leap over seafoam, palm fronds wink
Soft breezes waft and cotton clouds float above.
Anyone will fall in love with these tiny strips of land,
Of rugged hills and meandering rivers
Of placid backwaters and blue skies
Of gibbering monkeys and celestial monarch birds,
Of strutting peacocks, pigeons, pheasants, and parrots.
The powdery white sand of Boracay
The Chocolate Hills of Bohol
The Caraballo Mountain ranges,
And the Cordillera Mountain chain of Luzon,
The Rice Terraces of Philippine Cordilleras
All these give the country a solemn investiture.
Volcanic peaks, standing mighty and tall,
Proudly line the landscape, dotted with dense forests
Where birds sing melodies and Tarsiers with bug eyes
The tiny primates, endemic to the Philippines roam and jump
Amid the slumbering hills, there is fecund soil,
Turned into orchards and plantations,
Its population with perseverance and patience
Work in the soil relentlessly and in unison.
Well known for their hospitality, they receive tourists,
And outsiders with warmth and camaraderie.
In this paradise of mixed fortunes, tragedy comes unforeseen,
In the form of natural calamities like typhoons and cyclones,
But nothing can tear the people apart and they prosper,
With resilience, bent on sustaining their tradition,
Adding value to it each day and proud of an identity of their own
This beautiful land of velvet waves and crystal sands
Lying as a pendant in a crescent of emerald cluster
Rightly deserves the title- the 'Pearl of the Orient'
The sea pig wandered aimlessly through the straits of Gibraltar where once upon a time she had seen the pillars of Hercules standing proudly in that so long ago forgotten age
She sighed and swam on "even more down in the dumps than she had been before .
She paused her swim and floated just inches from the surface and listened to the ugly noises of industry and over population ,
She thought back nostalgically and of that happy Ancient music that once drifted serenely from those same shore’s carried upon the incense smoke from the Human shrines dedicated to her kind .
Her age was far longer than even her living memory could comprehend accurately ,
Certainly Before the continents had broken apart and had formed the great islands ‘ of that there was no doubt
that particular memory was like yesterday to her .
The sea pigs parents ‘ ‘when she could be bothered to swim into the deepest parts of the Abyss to find them’
Reminded her constantly of the journey to this system aboard a great Ark that still orbits all the great oceans to this day ‘ shining in the nights sky.
“A reminder of our roots”
the sea pig chuckled too herself as she heard her mother’s whistling calls within her heart repeating that very sentiment.
Sadly though ‘ She and her parents were the last of their kind ‘ seventeen others had faced their demise ranging from natural disasters ,becoming land locked in inland seas or lakes due to the shifting of the continents ,
‘Tragically 'others to human under sea nuclear testing during a unfortunately timed mating ritual 'at least two others had been caught by pure chance by the Ancient whalers of this world.
‘As a consequence of this action ‘for hundreds of years to follow were then depicted on maps as sea Monsters with dire warnings of
“here be Dragons “.
How would the sea pig know of this ? I’ve no idea but she dose seemingly,
She knows her oceans are polluted ,
She knows the creatures on the shore no longer care for their habitat or the great waters that divide them ,
She also knows that one day the Ark will awaken and herald the great return .
How could I survive without a computer, only heaven knows!
'Tis a necessary tool for my poetical verse to compose.
Today, the beast went down again, wouldn't you know it,
Just as I received a brilliant revelation so vital to a poet!
My technical aptitude is meager but I did try to reboot.
That was the extent of my expertise regarding a troubleshoot!
I couldn't figure out what else to do so as a last resort,
I called the computer company gurus for technical support!
I was talking with a foreigner, much to my consternation,
So I steeled myself for a challenging technical conversation!
He could be anywhere on that vast continent of Asia;
I later learned he was from the Islands of Malaysia!
I'm sure that in solving computer glitches he does excel,
And he obviously knows the Malaysian lingo very well,
But bless my soul, I hardly understood a word he uttered,
As in fractured English and technical jargon he sputtered!
I'm sure he thought he was talking with a first-rate dunce,
Since he had to repeat his instructions to me more than once!
As frustrating as it is, I reckon I'll have to resign myself,
To pleading for technical support beyond the continental shelf!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Brother, you have no manifest destiny, except to treat your neighbor with love.
You say you fight for universal values, but who's to decide which values ought to
rule the Virgin Islands? Do you ever see the writing on the wall?
We fight Hitlers of our time with ferocious faith in democracy, but also with our
soft domino theory fashioning the world after our image, isn't that manifest arrogance? He who gives little in the end gives none at all. So be charitable with
your steadfast norms, that give you license to kill and to dominate, that fuel your expansionism.
Human folly resides in fake humility.
He who gives his body as a weapon for war is an imbecile who stands alone in the court of God, with the wrong steps of Abraham.
Born on the islands that gleam in the sea,
Born in contentment and born to be free,
Raised in your midst with your faults as they be,
Gone is my daughter, sweet Persephone.
And any flower that blooms in any part,
Has bloomed before that in my aching heart.
And she had taught me - what the summer meant;
And in her passing, is my summer spent.
And every tree shall weep its leaves for her;
Nor shall a single petal raise or stir;
Nor shall my barren heart give any ease;
And worthless gods with worthless men shall freeze!
And you who lived so long upon my smile,
Have stole its source, and shall now face my bile!