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Long Nose dive Poems

Long Nose dive Poems. Below are the most popular long Nose dive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nose dive poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Between November and December

November comes down gliding on filmy wings, 
Bringing cool and dank days on her way
Sweet it is to watch the spectacular changes she brings
In a medley of colors, plants and trees proudly stay 

Earth puts on a finery no other season can beat
In glinting flashes, the land and sky look so bright
The delectable pumpkin pie is the season’s favorite treat
As the day advances sunbeams fall in sparks of light
.
Early mornings come covered in snowy mist
Soon leaves nose dive and mournfully weep
The fallen leaves tremulously cry under our feet
As their last goodbye before they finally fall asleep

Evenings turn colorful with sinking sunlight, bleeding red 
Squirrels chatter noisily as they gather nuts in the wild 
As autumn tightens its grip, men retire early to bed
Wind blows all through the month with a temper mild

Soon the air turns chilly with blizzards coming in a row
And winter waits impatient for its icy-cold embrace.
The land will then be covered in a maze of snow.
Even the last flower shall fall and fade from earth’s face

The fallen dead leaves lying in piles and rotting away
And the sound of wind whistling the dirge of November
Bring to me the thought that we must all take leave one day 
Down on earth, fall and rot, thus be fodder for new life ever!


Nov.13.2022

~ Placed First~

November or December Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Caren Krutsinger
Form: Quatrain


My Innie

These days my innie is more of an innie
The more outie my belly becomes
I no longer think of it as a button these days
But more of a deep dark hidden cavern

One that holds many mysterious treasures
From oodles of lint to colorful twine
If you'd rather not know then it's best you don't go
On too deep a search and rescue reckon

Cause in my innie you may never come outie
Just remember my friend you've been warned
There are places you know you never should go
That will leave you battle scarred and torn

I'm now thinking that I'm more than a little off track
On this poem of my belly button
It started off fine before it took a nose dive
And lost out on that special something

That I always strive in my deep thoughtful writes
Of which you all know I have many
Now where was I at...I remember now, Oh Yea!
Did I mention that I have an innie
Form: Rhyme

Condolences Forever Invoked 9 11 201

Condolences Forever Invoked - 9/11/2001

Many unsuspecting innocent lives
     unwittingly found themselves
     at ground zero
     with absolutely no time
     to bid loved ones adieu,
and thus with
     a metaphorically clangorous
     (aire splitting din – bedlam askew

n'er to be silenced),
     aye felt near ready, 
     viz no haw wing, 
     nor hem ming – waze
     farewell call to peace monger...
     and arm Matthew
nine one one when
clear out of the blue

a resounding handy
     dandy bell lose clue
asper, a fitting notion pain
     fully apropos to applaud motley crue 
i.e. strangers risk
     king life and limb,
     would definitely do,
no matter where persons

     stationed come thee
     ex-tolling bells morrow,
     (whence thee fateful
     seventeenth anniversary
     twill dolefully arrive -
somberly dawning for
     survivors and/or next of kin -
     less than twenty four

     hours from now),
     sans unforgettable tragedy
     indelibly etched will be recalled
     in a blinding 
     fiery stormy flashback,
    where significant lost lives will replay,
     when weaponized airplanes
     took a kamikaze nose dive

a dwindling cadre,
     qua first line of defense,
     emergency civilian and/or military
     trained personnel jumped
     into the blizzard decimated fray,
     whereat selfless persons
     scurried (helter skelter like)
     all abustle analogous

     to a outsize bee hive
where 24/7 news
     broad casters did air
(nee blast) round 
     the clock latest bulletins,
     could not escape incessant blare
ring frozen like a
     life size like sculpture

     seated in favorite easy chair
hypnotized by the sheer colossal
     utterly incomprehensible dare
devilish a state of emergency,
     the then president 
     (George Walker Bush) did declare
dumb founded, slack jawed,
     and wicked deed

     waiting for horror
     to be recanted as an err
roar overloaded sensory circuits
     exceeded threshold,
     nonetheless listeners and/or
     viewers forced themselves to hear
live coverage far more appalling
     than any night mare.

Premium Member All Your Voices

Once, long distant calls would cost
You, your friends and family so many voices
had to wait, anticipate the budget and the worth
of words said out loud to ride rapid electric lines.
Still sentiments of love freely fly on telepathic planes
while prose and poetry remain yours truly.

When present face to face do you speak truly?
Conversations branch out, chip, splinter into stories, that's the cost.
Fish stretch past arms' length and record breaking climbs pass clouds and planes.
Tell me again how it all began, how many voices
sang out from heaven: Forgiveness for sale! Limited supply, form lines.
Greedy practice, selling soul's salvation, who figures out what it's worth?

Fear can make us pay the selfish who decide our worth.
Are our souls and spirits make-believe, a magician's trick or God's, truly?
Conversations of belief from heart or scripted lines
brainwashed or sincerely swayed, choice has a cost---
Cross your fingers, chant the scriptures, sing with all your voices
until it's real or a lie you can live with, insured for your departure in heaven's plane.

If a soldier's plane crashes, angelic eagles soar, swoop like planes,
nose dive to every soldier because lives are worth
remembering. Telephones shoot words-- bam, bam, bam, fire voices
on ears that bleed worst fears, shattering those who love them truly.
Nothing will ever be sweet or innocent again, this is an impossible cost.
War kills conversations, steals final farewell lines.

Songs please draw forgiving lines,
to rise over hatred in unarmed planes
for a bird's eye perspective to consider the cost
of love lost in doubt, its worth.
Love lights up any sort of soul, truly.
It's power hurls bolts through nerves that revive the mystic voices...

Devils, misfits, do-gooders, cherubs and chumps-- let's hear all your voices!
Call out to love, it won't resist, will cross any line
to save who is good or bad-- it desires everyone, truly
Here comes the light, hear comes our flight, listen for the plane
Remember it's insane to worry about your worth,
to be, to be, is miracle enough, we can't comprehend the cost.

Solo fly or get in line formation with you plane
Lift off, blast past hatred to reach Love's treasure of unimaginable worth.
Truly precious, so protect it, Love in all your actions no matter what the cost
Form: Sestina

Raymond Re-Examined

Clusters of refugee bubbles
         Expelled from the side of my tank
         Rise expanding in upward travels 
         Escaped depths, burst at surface 

         Forging against their vigour
         Persuasive stream broken
         by my bulky silver body
         Interrupting incoming ongoing 

         Enthusiastic thousands
         Spurts of filter flung hum
         Tickle my sheer cycling fins
         Tell me to nose dive again 

         Breaking trails of oxygen globes
         Until Billy Bully Salmon slices in
         Languid flicks follow frantic fro
         Gyrating spotty specimen vie

         Lunch pellet plops induce swished thrashing
         Tumult on top flung untimed as ocean fury
         Gaping lips capable of feeding incidentally
         Cylindrical home groans, crowded by peers

         Graduates from Tank Eight are due soon 
         To meet with intention, purpose imposed
         Sight of orange net scooping candidates
         Occasions mayhem, frenzied to catch bus

          I surge with the fastest, fattest prime
          For my place in net destiny
          Overexposed oxygen exhausts me
          Begins cressendo to deliver my bounty

         Dry eyed tribute to nurtured practice honed
         My splatting undulations
         boast industry success
         Cod calls me to lemon rained plate haven

         Farmed fellows raised by deliberation
         Egg nursery, microscopic sluge whirls
         Infuse infant entire crew with dedication 
         To feed, to fulfil, crisp silver skin served

         If you think eating me equals ocean depletion
         You'll be pleased to imbibe controlled science
         Take it from me, fat salmon, Raymond 
          I am desperate to get in your gut! 

          My reason for existence is to be ravished
          Don't reject majestic fish - re-examine 
          The pearly peach flesh down throat glide
          Indulge charitable fridge wrapped salmon


The Status Quo

I got this feeling,
I can't seem to shake.
   Hope I didn't scare you,
My mistake.

   I keep believing, to once
Again, see your face.
   I know everyone thinks
I'm just a nut case.

   This is real to me, 
It still feels new.
   I can't seem to get
Over, missing you.

   Sometimes I wonder why
You don't call.
   Then reality seeps in
And I remember it all.

   With you gone the world
Such an ugly place.
   Betrayal, lies the games,
A slap in the face.

   No more sun, my world
A constant rain.
   Ticket in hand, A seat
On the crazy train.

   You never gave me
The chance to blink.
   The look in your eyes
As you watched me sink.

   I can't believe our love
Slipped from my hand.
   I cannot comprehend
What I don't understand.

   I'm a lost cause, 
I want to escape.
   Darkness surrounds me
In its invisible cape.

   I'm spiraling down,
In a nose dive.
   No way out, 
I'm buried alive.

   It is more than a tragedy,
Well, I think so.
   A love gone south,
The old status quo.

   Turbo1904?
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Monday Morning

Monday Morning

Blues have taken the day, 
because I have let them. 
I woke up late, skipped breakfast.
I ran out of the house, without my coffee.
Obviously, I had already lost my mind. 
The car would not start right way, 
I have no time for this, I have to make my pay. 

The car came to life, I pushed it in reverse…charge…!
Crash… of course. 

What did you think was going to happen? 
I had set this up… clearly… 
“pay close attention please”. (smiling now, but not then)

I wanted to cry, or die. 
I wanted to scream. 
I got out instead. 
I would have kicked the tire, but I did that last time, 
It went badly. 
The results would be the same.

My kid’s bike, now jammed between my fender and my frame. 
This will be a big “fire”, indeed. 
No longer do I care, what happens anywhere else, 
Home life had taken a nose dive before my eyes. 
My son’s bike, the rocket ship that takes him to the moon, 
was flattened completely by a four door, rushing Comet. 

Lord of the universe, what can I say, 
I should have began my day…
In prayer.

Now…

The neighbor just moved in, he saw the thick and thin. 
He jumped the fence between us and ran to step across the albatross.
“We can get it free, let me have the key.” He beamed a smile. 
I stood very still, thinking of my son… the horror of the moment to come. 

Keys in hand, the man moved the car…what a star. 
The bike, the trike, the electric light, that meant more than it should, 
popped out.
I thought I was going to shout…out loud. 
It appeared to me, to be free indeed. 
No damage no mark. Nothing from my part. 

Thank you Lord, 
Let me start again.
Amen.
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Kite - For Contest

The Kite


It was great fun at the Jersey Shore
     flying our kite up high and away.
It is said, 'what goes up, must come down'
     when laws of gravity have their way.

And so it did with a steep nose dive,
     heading, it seemed, to the soft white sand.
But with a will of its own it chose
     a cottage rooftop chimney to land.
 
Our kite went up, up high and away,
     but only came down part way, that day.


Sandra M. Haight

~NA~
Contest: What Goes Up, Must Come Down
Sponsor: Catie Lindsay
Judged: 03/07/2016
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ocean Beach at the Jersey Shore, 2010.  An electric company utility truck tried to take the kite down, but couldn't reach it with their bucket.  Our kite was still there the next summer in 2011 but eventually was gone in 2012.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Poets Are Dead

On days I read…
   O dread
      The poets are dead!

A taste of bitter
   A tatterdemalion squalor
      A thread

that dangles
   in black death
      in the abyss

The art is lost
   in those times
      The craft

on a cliff
   Words swish
      then spit

without mystical scope

Spring forth
   O poet
      Prepare thyself for thy muse

the amusement of thy readers
   If thy words
      hang upon

thy precipice
   let it be stupendous
      spectacular

Let them peer
   perch
      leap

glide with whimsical wings

Fly, poet, fly
   Nose dive into the sea
      Capture the depths

of eternity
   Put a pretty bow on it
      or a ghostly hue. Abscond

into the spider’s closet
   fiddle on the roof
      hang on baby

until you're foolproof
   ne’er perfect
      leave room for edits.

So the albatross
   went diving
      but it is the fisherman

that is thriving
   up, up, up he goes
      into the blue nose

his line
   divining
      reeling in silver and gold.

Treasures
   to share
      No dread!

The poets live! Live it up to the end!

Living Off the Grid

Living off the grid..
I bid you ..
It's a challenge..
Living off the land..
For it's quite bland..

A taste of the great outdoors..
Mother Nature exposed..
 
Absolutely no power..
I cannot even take a shower..
Walk to the stream to fetch some water..
I feel like a fish out of water..

Always in my life I had it made..
Now I can't even get out of the shade..
The sun beats down..
I frown as I run for cover under a massive tree..
So I am free of sun burn..

Food is totally organic..
Which is fresh and pure..
That is for sure
Picking berries and fishing for salmon..
What a way to work up an appetite..

No technology had left it all behind..
Though I didn't think I would mind..

Life is simple living off the grid..
I rid myself of the everyday grind of urban living..
I bid it all a farewell..

Now I have learned how to survive..
So urban life can now take a nose dive..
Form: Rhyme

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