Long Mediterranean Poems
Long Mediterranean Poems. Below are the most popular long Mediterranean by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mediterranean poems by poem length and keyword.
Eldest Daughter Bore Fallout, Sans Brunt Marital Contention
An article posted in TIME Magazine
(VOL. 193 NO. 19 MAY 20 2019)
underscored_impact progeny keen
to experience when parents mean
with one another, badmouth, critique demean...
each other, asper yours truly and missus,
who only recently declared mutual
surrender, sans wedded compact that did careen
nearly capsizing in the process
no need for me to narrate, nor hex spleen
hostility snapping, crackling, and popping
(momma mia), which mutual did not
benefit thyself, or the Punim Holy Holstein
such incessant antagonism, a free and clean
break thee smart as a whip breathing August
emotionally distancing yourself into empyrean
realm (accompanied with emmanint stalwart beau)
aligned, destined, inclined... far beyond Euclidean
plane into multidimensional realm
two peas in a pod poised to earn green
allowing, enabling and providing
modus operandi to maximize placid Mediterranean
cyber sea prior to kickstarting, embarking,
anchoring...sub bastion of reciprocal love
a steely dan sing omnipotent bond, protein
requisite in order to beget offspring
privy to discerning, a mama and papa
expressing high fidelity, akin to king and queen
enamored by progeny (should such fate manifest),
thus clearly my ill treatment of the missus
a tautly wrought Gordian knotty skein
unwittingly entangling innocent babes,
particularly thee first born, who sought panacean
in tandem with minding gruelling academic
schedule, hence congratulations weathering
animosity, depravity (mine), insecurity...seen
heard, felt..., though nary magic wand to banish
opprobrious misdeeds indelible corrosion
deep in your impressionable subterranean
psyche, which loathsome impact undoable,
but...this papa doth care there
wren lies the rub, a bird den Hamlet
himself defied triangulated, vis a vis scalene.
With a deliberate shake of her long back curls
She strode right past him
Not acknowledging his smile
Exuding indifference
And a certain air of pride
“Could you please tell me what things
are suitable for vegetarians?”
She asked the attendants at the table
A mellow voice to her left answered
“I can tell you….I own this place
And I checked the menu personally.”
Ready to give a
“Mind your own business” retort
She turned around and looked up into
The most dazzling
SKY blue eyes
She had EVER seen
And with that
She simply gulped down
All the mean words
Piled high on her tongue
Just as though they were
One of those tasty little appetizers
She’d been asking about
“May I?”
He offered his arm
And took her round the table
Pointing out what she should sample
Then he had one of his attendants
Escort her to her table
As he had to see to an urgent matter
She was furious with herself
Who the hell did he think he was...
Trying to reduce her to a shy, tongue tied teenager
With his honed charm and refined bearing
How dare he flirt when she was sure he had a wife
Spying on him...
Some goddess of beauty
Just waiting for him to make a wrong move
So she could swoop down
And stake her claim
Showing all around
That SHE was the ideal woman
And deserving of this male specimen
of perfection...
She tried to calm down
The Mediterranean sparkled
In the moonlight
The sound of the sea
The smell of the salty air
Worked their magic in her
As the breeze cooled her face
It was a dreamy summer night
Almost unreal...
The lights on the shore twinkled
The pool looked so inviting
If only she could dip in
And be where she was most comfortable
For she had mastery over water...
She let the tension seep out of her
The graduates were causing a stir
There on the outdoor dance floor
She smiled at her niece and gave her a hug
Despite herself, and her worry about not fitting in
She was having a good time
If only she could wipe out the memory
Of those sparkling blue eyes…
TO BE CONTINUED…
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Heathens, scamps and thieves were lying in wait around the cove
Could not see them in gray dusk, but Captain Tawny Right felt them
Being an empath, as well as an Irish pirate queen, she was clairaudient.
She sent word by way of whipping boy for all hands to be at the ready.
A curtain of darkness cloaked the deeds of the rival ship.
Are we sure? Whispered a newcomer to our crew.
I put my finger to my lip, giving him the silent signal.
You could hear nothing but the dip of oars as we rounded this bend.
I realized that our entire crew of forty-nine was holding their breath.
Cannon blast startles me; lights the sky. I see the renegades.
All hell takes over the sea now; they are scallywags like us.
Captain Right is the first to greet them with a sword in their gut.
Big boned, grandiose, black-booted, and bubbly beyond the Baltic.
This is the Mediterranean. Tawny is silent, slashing and killing.
We murder them! The newcomer said. He gleefully sliced a knee.
In an hour Tawny calls a halt and we count our remaining prisoners.
She gives them a choice. Join our band or be murdered on the spot.
Their captain, an old man with grouchy ways begins to argue.
Much younger, handsome first mate runs him through with his sword.
At your command, my Captain, he says, impressing Tawny.
We leave the harbor in two ships, and I am taught to play cards.
Our new scallywags, scamps and thieves love to bet.
Best day on the Mediterranean yet. Started with two ships.
Now we are up to eight. Our captain is ruthless, and brave.
Being an empath who is clairaudient, and clairsentient helps too.
She feels things and knows things prior to smells or sounds.
I am grateful to be on her crew. Will guard her with my life.
Hope one day she will recognize my name and my face.
We met during the war on this now famous sunny isle
Like a moth to a flame, was her infectious smile
I was in the Navy, stationed aboard an MTB
Keeping shipping lanes open, for the Mediterranean Fleet
Whilst the war years progressed you could sense the islands bravery
Heavily bombed and damaged, under threat of Axis slavery
Although we lived amidst, we could only marvel at their spirit and guile
They fought hard for their liberty on that famous sunny isle
I'll never forget the times, endured during this terrible war
Camaraderie became their strength, for what they had fought-en for
Simple life went on, amidst the cafes and the bars
My new found love from this famous sunny isle, became my married dove
We still recall the radio broadcast, declaring that war is over
As we headed back to my homeland, to Scotland and live in clover
The day that we embarked, many a tear fell from our eyes
Looking back at this famous sunny isle, under peaceful azure blue skies
Many a word we spoke, whilst we sailed to Southampton Port
Now demobbed, to a civilian, hopefully the war mongers are brought to court
Although the war years showed their horrors, respect was never far away
This famous sunny isle, wears the George Cross in deserved display
Heading home to Scotland, past fields in harvest bloom
This proud Royal Navy sailor, with his bride and he a groom
We cried as we passed the war torn, not only was it the famous sunny isle
For the war had been so expansive, in it's putrid inhuman vile
We settled on the West Coast, amidst the heather and the glens
Bringing up our boys, praying they'll never be fighting men
Many nights we stayed up, answering questions of our past
From that famous sunny isle, our true love would always last
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-15.php
Frank Osgood
1870-1919
I was the great wanderlust of Whittier!
From 1890 until my last days,
I followed my nose,
And other body appendages,
To distant earthly destinations,
Both sensational and disgusting,
From the calm tranquility of a secure home,
To the chaos and uncertainty,
Of traveling with heavy bags, aching feet,
And certain fears, I, nevertheless,
Decided to break out and seek other lands,
Other people, and other vistas.
Sickness did awfully afflict me many times,
As I lay retching inside many a tent,
But always I was learning, and thriving.
To far-away Rome I traipsed,
To Paris, Venice and London too.
From the streets of Madrid to
The far-away shores of the Mediterranean,
Where The Christ founded a mighty religion,
I ventured and saw, and tasted!
I hunted on safari in Eastern Africa and
Shot a gazelle from a standing position.
In beautiful South America and Asia,
My restless feet found another universe,
Of unworldly sights and strange rituals.
My friends!
It was amazing indeed to drink it all in,
Like a cool fruit drink from Rio.
But my thirst for wandering was never slaked.
And then it ended,
Like the quick waking from a dream,
When I died at home of a measly fever.
Most ironic indeed.
And so, as for my epitaph,
This is it:
“‘Tis a heap of profit to travel.”
Are ancient domesticated cats from an Arabic land
Is it where they came from, as history understands
But this is not so, they lived and graced
For in Cyprus was found, a skeleton in place
Egypt was favourite, until that burial place was found
Interned with its master, on Mediterranean ground
They evolved from wildcats in Africa at large
Five self-domesticating, in evolutionary charge
So the cats you see today, came from them
All coloured so different, every single one a gem
My entry into Constance's " Cat Tails " contest
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-4.php
1MyWk13keCuc1v6HimFsu9Rrbvvb7zz9nD
One my wok, 13 froglegs, enough for sunday freind ship supper
Cumin Urfa biber.-or Uzazi. One Vanilla Caviar.- or Vadouvan
6 o clock supper. six o clock! si:si.Floating Storage Unit, him keep water!
si? si! red,Black Velvet vase bowl. 7 bowls: zz snoring-wake up
6 o clock,,9 oclock now, him miss supper?si! him miss supper!
no;no a neutral density. Him snore take picture
tease in front of lady freind! si; si, get big laugh!
I clown!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------consuming less food, exercising more, or both----------------------------------------------------------
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MESSAGE @ From Slim Phatty Vassar Hacedora de viudas"
While a "beautiful woman" cannot literally cause a heart attack merely by existing, intense emotional experiences—including extreme excitement, surprise, or infatuation—can trigger cardiac events in people with pre-existing heart disease. High emotional arousal can trigger stress hormones, affecting cardiovascular health. A heart-healthy diet rich in fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins (like the Mediterranean or DASH diets) while avoiding saturated fats, trans fats, added sugars, and excess sodium. Cardio---HIIT-----LISS.....
Lot of rivers flow through cracked channels of my humble mind
As I swim through my broken heart
I felt so disturbed and sad
Then I asked is love an illusion?
Roses glow right n front of me
As I stretch my hand to touch of her spotless flowers
The beauty dried right in front of me
Will I ever be in love I cried
As I journey throw my broken heart
Alas alas a bright Rose appears from afar
It's beauty like the Mediterranean silky milky linen
On the back of black Chaldean maidens of pure beauty
I saw her smile towards me as I cried
With my hands stretched out to grab are ebony long slender sweet hand
I woke from the sleep I fell into
Then I cried Ogechi it's not really fair
I guess u like being my fantasy
A blossoming evening,serene valleys,meadows and alleys
Cottages in distance twinkling little lanterne lights
Indigo moon peeping from blue black velevet skies
Sparkling diamonds dancing through the night
There i lay on fine grain crystals,in my own solitude
finding peace with myself,watching the spectacular view
of a shooting star in temporarily brilliance,crossing over,
acting like a little child,making a wish upon a star
just one wish,as i watched Ugin approaching me
sommersaulting on white puffed pillowed clouds
He had a globe in his hand,a globe where i could see my future
a globe in where my one only wish came through.
On that night i lay down on golden sands
a palm tree the only companion,supporting my back
caressing me with passion, embracing me to safety
All alone I was ,alone and free,in my long white cashmere dress
feeling the breezin of the wind waftin gently through my long brown hair,
breathin on my neck,kissing my left cheek,passing to my right
flowing under my dress, brushing my pink lips,swifting,in circular movements.
That was the night my fingertips found music once again,
on silver strings of a spanish guitar,as my bare feet played with coloured corals
There i was in my own stolen moments,the universe smiling at me,
the angels in radiant chariots flying over,as faries birthed life
and performed an orchestra of magical moments.
There I was gazing at the mediterranean waves in inward movements,
as sailing boats left the shore,reaching far away lands,finding new horizons.
There i remained,my thoughts not anchored anymore,rowing to the ends of the sea
living in waking dreams,smelling flowers in never ending gardens.
There I was,my journey accomplished ,singing the sweetest song of love.
There i lay between verses of awake and asleep,hearing birds tweeterin in trees
as I watched dawn cover dusk and it was sunrise.
Winning the Lottery
Yes, I dream of winning the Lottery,
Hitting the jackpot on a Saturday night.
Oh, it’s so wonderful to imagine,
So, I cross my fingers and hold them tight.
Our George bemoans his bad luck,
All these years, not even a Tenner.
He told me that a couple from up Orkney,
Won Five million, Mr and Mrs Jenner.
Now I don’t want a fortune,
Just to be comfortable, would be nice.
I could buy me a shiny new sports job,
Without thinking about it twice.
A holiday to the Island of Barbados,
Under tropical skies, that sounds grand.
Or perhaps a Mediterranean cruise,
Lazing on deck, getting tanned.
I would have to update my wardrobe,
With a suit from Ralph Lauren.
A few shirts with the label of Versace,
Oh, and Designer shoes by Donna Karan.
We may have to move from the terrace,
Buy a cottage in the countryside.
Or better still a bungalow by the sea,
With a Veranda, to sit watching the tide.
I could afford to have Guitar lessons,
Learn to play blues like Jimmy Page.
Imagine that, me becoming a rock star,
With adoring groupies at front of stage.
Now, I won’t see our Emily go short,
and I’ll give a bit to John and Jilly.
I’d better return Danny’s Lawnmower,
and give that borrowed Twenty back to Billy.
I could retire and take it easy,
No more working long shifts over-night,
Slaving for that Miserly McGregor,
He’s loaded but so flaming tight.
In truth, I’d leave without notice,
And tell him just where to stick it.
My wife say’s stop daydreaming Jim
You’ve never even bought a ticket.