Long Landmass Poems
Long Landmass Poems. Below are the most popular long Landmass by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Landmass poems by poem length and keyword.
the Big Island
It is a big island about the size of France, for a long time this island has been asleep so peaceful lemurs jumped along the jungle floor to reach the next tree, before
trophy hunters came together with missionaries and the people looking for gold.
Madagascar was once part of a supercontinent bigger
than Russia, called Gondwana where the inhabitants spoke 4 languages which was needed when traveling
through a landmass that had lakes the size of the Mediterranean Sea.
For a long time, South Gondwana was like Florida a place for the rich and elderly to retire and served by the local population who lived in small huts to not block the sea view of the rich, and the wealthy as usual could not understand why they were hated.
Revolution came, the army had for too long lived on bacon skin and gone obese, spears and swords too heavy
The vast country broke up into many parts that drifted about and settled like we see on the map today
But the dream remains, the dream you can walk naked
among palm trees and not get bitten by snakes
I was walking down the neighbourhood,
reminiscing how it all
used to be where we made believe
that we were nymphs in a wood,
except the once moist earth was parched,
and the once white air was brown...
and footpaths and landmass
were suddenly under a filter of grey...
Here I stop by this grandfather tree,
one in my eyes would be older than me.
But when I touched the bark
and the lowest leaf,
it whispered, "Speak, child of Eve,
now that I'm awake from my sleep."
I walked backwards,
scratching and tilting my head,
wondering what was messed with my senses;
had climate change really gotten into my head?
Now although I am shocked,
and my mind can't think so fast,
my tongue does the work for me:
"How have you lived this long?" it asks.
A wind blows, and my eyes take up,
imagining him stretching the rusty spine of a trunk.
He then speaks, in the gruff and cranky voice:
"You humans do whatever you want,
kill what you see with your eyes,
and spare what they think would fit their design best."
My eyes wander, to the settlements gray,
and remembered, the green kingdom where we'd played.
"Do you ever miss them?" I wish I hadn't asked,
but there is no way of turning time, and I continue to ask:
"The others of your kind, the ones that fell,
were they family, or friends at best?"
The grandfather shuddered, cold and angry,
I could feel his thoughts, how he wished
that I'd not reminded of what sored him.
"But what good would it do to think of the dead all day?"
He adds, "Isn't that what your mother always says?
Best ask her yourself, I'm sure my answer would be same;
for though you'd branched out early, we share one ancient family name.
But for now leave me be, your kind has hurt me enough,
to be sworn enemies, still, I'd rather sleep it through."
I turn around annoyed, wandering what tricks my fancies play,
then I stop so suddenly, with one last question to say:
"How do you know me?" I ask, not expecting replies,
but he says in return: "I used to watch you as a child,
"And in your early days I'd hold you when your limbs weren't so ripe,
I'd watched you walk, then I was worried,
when my own limbs tripped yours.
I'd thought since that misplaced root, that you'd never come back.
But now that I've talked to you, I feel
weirdly warm and comforted to sleep."
If Newton hadn't done his thing
How would we all stay down
Pythagoras said his pies are square
And that the world is round
Columbus sailed an open sea
And found a landmass there
If Einstein had no relatives
Would M C still be square
Now Alexander Graham Bell
And this might sound quite drastic
Without his input all of us
Would talk to lumps of plastic
Fleming gave us penicillin
He made it out of mould
While good old Bill Lord Kelvin
Gave us ways to say we're cold
Armstrong took just one small step
Which then he said was giant
Some say it was all a fib
But NASA stands defiant
But all of that is history
It's stuff that's gone before
What a shame it is that we
Don't make it anymore
Raining down emotions,
darkly enlightening
interior memory re-experiences
of exterior impassioned imagination events
Nonviolent win/win images
enlightening darkness
of win/lose competitions
darkly fighting
lose/lose violent de-nihilism
of ecosystemic becoming healthy roots
Fertile draining images,
sensory neural outlooks,
feeling verbal projection projects,
raining rejections,
reigning alpha injections
Conjectures of codependent
health/wealth interrelationships
Intersectional storms
connecting/disconnecting
emerging/hiding nonzero/zero-closing zones
compassion/dispassion
full/empty raining disclosed systems
Draining sensations
being not merely alive
but also regeneratively thriving
health and democratically inclusive safety
Harboring against becoming dryly dead,
degenerating unhealthy and unsafe evaporative dwindling
Losing wealth of ecosystemically driven
individually shriven
naked ego-lifetime outcomes
Splayed out on a dying anthro-rabid Earth
where one species reigns
committed to anti-ecological
macroeconomic
disempowering
and unenlightened de-nihilistic ecocide.
Healthier draining systems
are not about unchanging purity
and StraightWhiteMale privileged safety
so much as flexible diversity
and courageous messy curiosity;
Wealthy economic rainstorms
and darkly ecological interior inter-relationships
provoke and evoke resonance
of robust polyculturally interactive
floating stardrop ships
Silent worship
in dynamic dripping stasis
slow prequel,
inclusively diverse reveal
of sensual intricate beauty
memories cross-pollinating integrity
raining down complex feelings
Unveiling monocultural supremacist purity
of a 100% crabgrass landscape,
100% drenched in concrete
recovering from 100% saltwater
with no above water pre-historic landmass
between pure rock
and humid
stultifying steaming fog,
An oppressive
deep degenerating humid atmosphere
inviting a more cooperative breeze
win/win health restoring
wealthy reign of multiculturing
indigenous
ecofeminist EarthJustice.
Hurt Europe
Starmer and Macron dislike leaving the scene of a crime, not yet concluded, they will meet for lunch to discuss how they can prolong the Ukraine war and help Zelinsky win over Putin’s Russia, they have been sidelined by Trump who wants peace and gets his praise, a Nobel Medal
Trump, the man doesn't want them meddling it is his alone, needs not a humiliated Europe to snag get their foot in with left-winged nonsense Rutte, the new NATO boss has read the ruins he talks about China to please the USA and thinks of sending troops to defend Indonesia.
After lunch, Starmer had lamb chops, Macron had oysters they walked to the Louvre and spoke about European culture, forgetting Europe is not a state but a landmass of many countries that might not share their knowledge of Rodin, later they went to Cabaret in Montmartre
I see reports..Be they sponten'aic.? Or well?
Pre-crafted, it all hits systemic, if someone is Somalian or Mongolian..? Sometimes i hear, calls about the dystopian.! If a human states they are Chinese are they involved in
Racisam.? How do i? Or we see.? Or are you told of someones ethnic'sity before? how they will therefore' improve your country.? I have often heard these claims'
Yet the narrator knew scaresly a listener
To me its real strange.!
Am i being plain? There seems so much pre-judication de-facto, or in law-fare.' I see
Many pit-falls.' With fair answers rare, in a muddied river its so hard to move, without
Collision, All this is true.' We can all live better in health of mind, and the body of even your landmass..Can be also
kept healthy, if we help each other,
It
will..' For all must turn round.)
The Great Betrayal (festive speech)
May 9 is a great day for Russia worth remembering
World War 2 would have lasted longer and cost more lives
had not Russia participated
Hitler hated Russia with passion when he went to war
committed a big part of his army to vanquish this landmass
But he was not the only one who eyed Russia with hatred and
envied its usual riches; not only Napoleon ruined his army
when taking on the great country, but the Swedish Vikings too
tried to take land but, as always, lost.
So, who are the Russians? They are not Europeans, although part
of the country is a part of Europe with a language that does not
come under the influence of the Germanic or Roman languages
After years of suffering from the utter poverty and need; of the Tzar
the regime brought, there was a revolution; unfortunately for the
people, the new rulers were a bloody one ,but carried cohesion
and under communism became a stronger nation, to the chagrin
of European states like France and Germany.
Today Russia is a semi-democratic state led by Putin and his men
at war with the USA and NATO because Russia had once again
been disrespected and lied to.
This day is vital for the well-being of Russia, we wish them well into
the future. LONG LIVE RUSSIA!
Written: December 02, 2023
Quote "Without birth and death, and without the perpetual transmutation of all the forms of life, the world would be static, rhythm-less, undancing, mummified." Alan Watts
________________________________________
“we woke up early one morn, ego shorn
it felt as though we were in form reborn
nodes within stirred, boundaries blurred
our head and heart, with love concurred”
I deploy discursive divine depiction as a guide.
A gateway to Genesis, where it takes its side.
Unbridled and untamed, my voice may rise.
I pursued knowledge out of pure surprise.
Low-frequency vibes induce a shift in shape.
Scarcity leads to transmutation, of spare scape.
Alchemists transmute leads to sacred gold.
Metal sheds its genius luster in the kiln hold.
I waltz freely with doom in the gloom.
I inhale oxygen to marvel at life's bloom.
I endure steps yet disappear in the dream.
Structure is unaffected by the skill stream.
Love is my soul—my reason for existence.
Living in lavish love is a lifelong vow of diligence.
A mind, weaved with such insight, was so warm.
I flaunt my firm frame in this fabulous form.
When you are feeling opulent and egotistical.
Those who are dominant were miscible.
Departure might induce an unfillable hole.
Descry a suitable way to purify your soul.
There are ecstatic and tragic days, love and hate.
No matter how tough we strive, this will be our fate.
Note how sporadic and fleeting life is; spot the stride.
Our days of tribulation bruised our noble pride!
Rather than succumbing to hatred and rage.
Turning negative into a rising trend of assuage
Let trust and troth tackle tricks and malicious
Such a restrained demeanor is truly auspicious.
Within, most consensus spans are wide.
It's all whim; scatter love and watch it glide.
Trust your scintilla—trek to the boundless sea.
We may all profit from sowing wisdom trees.
Conquered the most-dubbed landmass on Earth.
And yearning to discover raw levels of worth!
Death, then delirious with deceit, drove his life.
A wicked beast embedded himself in strife!
A susurrus sparkle to the shimmering love.
Enhances adieu strut below the moon above.
Breeze says, "Love on, my dear, and dance."
Across the trees, a gentle man's glance.
"The Circe Effect" (Part 1)
Circe, Goddess of magic, nymph, witch, bold enchantress
daughter of Helios, Sun God, her father, can you imagine? ...
let me paint you further, the tree of this wacked-out family canvas -
daughter of Perse, her mother, wild Oceanid Nymph, spawned not on landmass,
but in the vast deep blue deep.
Aeetes, her brother hung tight to his Fleece
and Pasiphaë, her sister, given in marriage to King Minos of Crete,
had a fling with a monstrous White Bull,
a gift from Poseidon, ain't that so sweet?
she bore a bastard child, the Monataur with a ring in his nose,
horns and hoofed feet.
Now there was a family of total dysfunction
and Circe, poor dear, betrayed for remaining herself,
remaining non-function
was banished to Aeaea for murdering her husband
the Prince of Colchis.
There on Aeaea, as revenge, Circe drew out her magic wand - not a sword,
transmuted her enemies, all those who offended her into wild beasts,
where they were left to circle her mansion and roam to eat swill as their feast.
Docile not dangerous, drugged and delerious,
these beasts never gored -
they were fawned on by all newcomers, who were simply just curious,
never bored.
These entranced beasts lured newcomers to our girl Circe
with a woof and purr.
Enter Circe, quite disturbed, in a logical kind of way.
“More pets for me!”, she thought, “they will never stray”.
These lonely, adventurous vagabonds who ventured into her lair,
well, she showered them with all her incantations, but they never heard
her words of Love ever there –
Circe would finally reveal who she truly was,
for you see by now all that pain, all that hurt
had converted our dear old Circe into a siren
otherworldly, deadly lethal, mysterious, re-birthed;
all that ventured into her Kingdom now were
captivated by her spells and
then promptly, with a wave of her wand,
transfigured forevermore
as creatures,
of her Elysian Fields interred.
(Lovejoy-Burton/ Dec 2017)
'Roses from all nations scintillate in complete harmony'
A Rose by any other Name - by Maria Williams
ROSE OF SHARON
Voyage of repatriated petals, dipped in silver and gold,
continental drifting through coagulating clouds -
Time To Say Goodbye to division, Il Divo harmonizes
as the world listens - the cemetery rose old.
Global vortex, dramatic sparks, landmass whole -
not as paramount as the people sailing together,
fair winds, ruddy cheeks, grand smiles that peak.
reparations of thorny holes, Rose of Sharon gathers souls.
The velvety snow of roses that never die,
curabilities for nations gathering at the tree -
the one that will enhance, enthrall, hold out
His fruit of life, stamp out existence of all lies.
The beautiful bounty of everlasting truth,
a soaking of undying love for each other
in the righteous Savior’s hand, ripe and real,
lasting restoration of the countenance of youth.
2/26/2020
Sponsored by: Silent One
Poetic lines from a Poetry Soup Poet -
Maria Williams Poetry Contest
*Time to Say Goodbye - "Con te partirò" (Italian) "With you I shall leave") is an Italian song written by Francesco Sartori (music)
and Lucio Quarantotto (lyrics). (From Wikipedia)