Long Landing Poems
Long Landing Poems. Below are the most popular long Landing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Landing poems by poem length and keyword.
pink and sparkles spout
above liberty statue
cloud tauts happiness
fireworks all around applaud
hands clap on soil and sea
the swirl of nations,
a landing party of dreams...
but some from afar
drag chains as if dead, rowing
amidst the cotton
the white plant—has thorns—
placed on Jesus saving crown.
sowed on plantations —
a reaping of civil war
continues today.
plumes of red and black
fume over the green lady;
a gift from the past.
stripes upon the flag’s backside.
hands raised beg for forgiveness
7/3/2020
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW(4)any theme any form Poetry Contest
John 19:1-3 Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they struck them in the face.
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“LIGHTNING STRIKES JETLINER SULFERLY”
The Jetliner was flying through a violent storm
This is the norm at times
The Jetliner originated from Los Angeles enroute to Chicago
A fierce lightning bolt sheared through the side of the air craft
The captain managed to maneuver the air craft
However, there was some damage
All the passengers were shaken up
Some were insured during the ordeal
The captain radioed the nearest airport
It was Dallas-Fort Worth Airport
The captain wanted to make an emergency landing
The Dallas-Fort Worth Control Tower told the captain that the runway was all clear for his descend
The Medical and Emergency team quickly went to runway 5 for the air craft
The captain had the Jetliner wheels down and turned towards Dallas-Fort Worth
The plane landed safe
Some of the passengers were taken to nearby hospitals
While others refused medical attention
Lightning bolt impact damage
Luckily no deaths were reported and everyone survived
Survival chapter
Dropped anchor off the Fever Coast
‘board a rake-masted schooner
Spooked by Ahab’s ghost.
Lamps glowered through the yawning blanks
Casting bone-twisted shadows
Over teakwood planks.
Salt biscuits and Jamaican rum;
Heard the deep-throated rattle
Of the talking drum.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Leaned hard against the mains’l boom.
Strained my eyes in the blackness
Of the brackish gloom.
Port lookout gave the counter sign;
Put our boats in the water,
Oar blades dripping brine.
Paid tribute to the pagan chief
In exchange for a passage
Past uncharted reefs.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Slave dealers ruled the hidden cove
Near a shrine to the god
Of the cassava grove.
Made landing on the leeward shore.
Stacked our crates on the beach;
They totaled near a score.
Trade muskets worth some eighteen head
Pleased our hosts and they showed us
To the holding shed.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Grey shackles made a hollow clank.
Moved them out single file,
Guards on either flank.
Fog greeted our return aboard.
Stashed our cargo below
Where once the guns were stored.
Turned to and dodged a man-o-war.
Rode that swift tidal current
Like a smuggler’s whore.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Fair sailing till we hit the Cape,
But we made Madagascar
Still in decent shape.
Brisk business on the auction block
Where a Dutch merchant
Purchased our entire stock.
He sold ‘em to the Portuguese.
We set course for Calcutta
With the morning breeze.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words...
Crew mustered in the open air.
Coins were stacked on a blanket
And I took my share.
Two hundred stone of human freight
Brought me four Spanish dollars
And a piece of eight.
Christ Jesus, we be ruthless men.
Tell the god of the cassava
We’ll be back again.
Count it with numbers. Say it with words:
Guilt and compassion? Sh*t for the birds!
Our heroine Dorothy is caught up in a storm,
She looks around as she lands, unbeknown will transform
Children’s dreams in an adventurous way,
With her new friends, let’s say hurray,
Magic shoes travel The Yellow Brick Road, not the norm.
They discovered the Wizard Of Oz was human, a con,
But gave Scarecrow his much wanted brains, wow he won,
The Tin Woodman was given a heart,
Which he wanted from the start,
Cowardly Lion made brave , ruled all beasts under the sun.
Witch East splattered by Dorothy's house landing, she was bad,
Grateful Good Witch North, gives Dorothy magic shoes, Dorothy glad,
Bad Witch West dissolved with water, airfoam,
Good Witch South Glinda, sends Dorothy home,
Click your heels Dot, destination Kansas, a fairy-tale grand.
HEADING – FIRST TWO LINES OF JUDY GARLAND’S SONG
Poetry Competition; Wizard Of Oz Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Date: 2024/11/23
Placed 1st in the contest
wait until you meet the creepster my grandpa said
grandma came around the corner
that was the end of this conversation
what did he say to you?
nothing, I replied
it seemed like a secret
I spent six days on the farm before the creepster approached me
I could not tell by the voice if he was a he or a she
remember Big Bird’s voice? it sounded like that
he/she wanted all kinds of attention for me
I went about my business, feeding the chickens and lambs
ignoring the creepster for about forty minutes
Then he/she/it pulled my hair
that’s when I took the creepster down on the ground
landing hard on nothing; an aberration is not solid.
I felt more fearful of this entity after that.
I saw the creepster on and off for years; we were never friends.
On burning sands;
a little crab scurries
to his burrow.
He will hide from
sandals and flip-flops
until the giant creatures
ride the waves.
Their unguarded possessions
may house a tidbit or two…
crabs, like crows,
love to collect Pretty baubles;
especially if they fit nicely in one claw.
Tiny crab found, quite by accident, a stray object…
and a small watch-ring
walked away with its new owner.
While digging for sharks teeth by a pier minutes later,
ten year old Joey discovered a useless
but very tiny, sand-coated, watch-ring.
Little crab returning to the beach,
Devastated by the loss; attached his claw to Joey’s toe.
Subsequent scream sent crab flying and upon landing;
crab scurried to reacquire his treasure.
Poor Joey cried and danced like a,
one legged rabbit.
On the bottom rung
crawling up the stairs,
My life has just started,
I’m free without a care,
But something’s urging me
to keep pushing on
Struggling on the second step,
then it all goes wrong
Tumbling back down,
landing on my head,
Next thing I remember,
mother’s laying me to bed,
Some time after,
on the stairs yet again,
About halfway up,
looking good but then,
Go head over heels,
rolling all the way back down,
Ending up in a bundle,
flat out on the ground,
No pain this time,
was actually kind of fun,
But dad heard me falling,
got hard smack on the bum,
After dinner climbing resumed,
must reach the top,
Didn’t make it that day,
was never going to stop,
Finally some weeks later,
I made it all the way,
Never forget that feeling,
perseverance paid,
The reward jumping up and down,
on my parents bed,
This was my life in general,
when all this is said,
Nothing came easy,
a few highs and lows,
Done the best I could,
took some nasty blows,
Now I’m old and frail,
stairs are a mountain once more,
Every step I take,
knees and hips are sore,
But my determinations strong,
like that brazen child,
We’re still the same person,
completely reconciled,
Still guess I’m lucky,
to have made it round full circle,
Sheer grit forged me,
But Its killing me to be careful.
By
David Kavanagh
PURPLE
Purple my soft moss seat in paradise
amethyst crown purple so wise
High Priestess purpled silken silent and bold
has no need to compete with cool
Countess whose court is neat
but oh so cold !
What a sweet treat to see
ripe ripple granadilla purpled fall from tree
she made an indigo way from leafy branch
to loamy Earth to juicy kiss my feet
landing on delicate fairy roots with a scarlet beat
Purple irises erect rows in park holler
such powerful maidens compete not for dollars chased by bookie rookie scholars who fail
to see abundance in nature’s holy colour
divinely composed with innocent hues of valour
How humans sniffle and snuffle when they
seek lilac happiness in ludicrous money
all they need do is close their eyes to
visualise dining on purple aubergine,
mauve butter bean laced with dripping honey
in violet chameleon coves hosting bunnies
watching a shimmering sunset
holy purple burble !
The moon is a sickle of ivory white,
Hanging low o'er the tassels of silk.
The corn stalks shiver in the cool of the night,
In a fog that is thick as the milk.
"Old friend," breathes the row with a rustle of green,
"Do you grow weary of standing so still?
With your button-eye stare and your posture so lean,
On the brow of this lonely, dark hill?"
The scarecrow creaks on his timbered spine,
With a sigh made of sawdust and grain.
"I watch for the shadow, the feather, the line,
And the scent of the gathering rain.
My coat is a rag that the north wind has torn,
And my heart is a bundle of hay;
But I live for the song of the ripening corn,
At the end of a long, dusty day."
"We feel the crows landing," the field softy moans,
"The pinch of the beak on the ear.
We tremble deep down in our chlorophyll zones,
Whenever the black wings are near.
But you are the giant, the tattered and tall,
With your arms stretching wide to the sky;
You catch the first chill of the winterly squall,
With a wink of your glass-beaded eye."
"I am but a ghost," the straw-man replies,
"A hollow man stitched by a hand.
But I love the gold light as the summer sun dies,
And the way that you root in the sand.
I’ll stand through the frost and the bite of the gale,
To keep every kernel from harm;
Though my paint may be chipped and my burlap grow pale,
I am the soul of the farm."
The wind dies away to a murmur of sleep,
As the stars turn silver and blue.
The secrets of seasons are hers now to keep,
And his to protect and see through.
A nod of the tassel, a sway of the sleeve,
In the quiet where shadows are spun;
Two sentinels waiting for morning’s reprieve,
Beneath the pale gaze of the sun.
The weeping willow tosses in the wind
its seeds fall in a haphazard way,
landing in all nooks and crannies.
Sprouting buds break the earth
in no particular order for this birth.
A tree begins to grow
and a connection is made with another.
The two trees intertwine both limbs and roots,
bringing a union of a sort.
They are coupled in all ways
sharing rain drops and sunshine
as they hover over one another.
Then their growth takes a different path,
branches straight across twisted ones,
roots running shallow over deeper ones,
sun and rain that no longer feed.
The entangled inseparableness that gave them such strength,
now at its core would only bring angst.
The binding bond that had been their crucial crest,
now symbolic of a misguided quest.
To tear apart their growth together,
may seem damaging forever.
But without this desperate separation,
leaves and flowers will have trouble creating.