Long Port Poems
Long Port Poems. Below are the most popular long Port by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Port poems by poem length and keyword.
I had cycled to Upper Montclair
It was humid, hot, smoke in the air.
I was sweaty, and smelled of Deet
circles under my eyes, and I was beat.
It was Sunday, I'm agnostic, or I'd be in church
Anyway, my state flipped to desperate search
I went to the gas station, to the staff I made a plea
I said "Do you have a bathroom; this is an emergency."
The owner said "sorry, not for your kind."
So I pedaled off, nearly out of my mind.
I saw a port-o-potty, with a lock on the door
Seemed to defeat the purpose, what it's made for.
A drug store was open, I gave a sigh of relief
But the bathroom was out of order, this was beyond belief.
I scanned the trees, but each patch of green
Had a house, a dog, or a camera unseen.
(chorus)
When nature calls, on a Sunday morn
You forget the rose and feel the thorn.
It isn’t just pain—it’s a primal shame,
When the bathroom calls you by your name.
Finally, I rode my bicycle through church doors
The crowd looked shocked, but when it rains, it pours.
The priest pointed out the restroom, I just made it there
And thanked heaven for religion in Upper Montclair.
I had made my fortune shorting the Lebanese pound
So I gave ten thousand dollars to each parishioner, shock all around
Shook every hand, then rolled out of there,
The faithful will remember that day in Montclair.
Living life daily in this deep blue dream
People think its adventurous, yet its not what it seems
The work never ends, day in and day out
The weather could be kind or toss you about
A sickness can go viral, and strike the whole crew
Your miles away from shore, theres nothing you can do
You see the same faces, you have to make them your friends
Because enemies here could meet violent ends
You work as a team, putting loads in their space
Then do it all over again in some other place
You keep to yourself when your watch is done,
Too tired to go ashore and have any fun
People think we see the world with each passing trip
But most of the time we see just the insides of this ship.
From Port to Port , they all seem the same
Dockworkers and sailors, the game stays same
So if you think its all adventurous, this life at sea
Its not a pleasure cruise, you take it from me.
Energy’s Suffocating Gallop
by Odin Roark
Ancient blood soaked sand
Plumes its sticky residue
Beneath rapacious hooves
Dust storms of evil stampeding beside pipelines
Goad flow to tankers
Where ubiquitous black gold addiction
Steers toward pervasive profit-docks
Behind sweat lathered greed
Winds of historic baggage
Tether their historic words and song
Blessings and curses
Exciting swirling vortexes
Windmills of molten fire
Entitlement’s rape and pillage of breath
Of pores once absorbing purity
Evil’s global bubble
Appearing as mankind'
Robed in white zealotry
The blinded hawk-minds
Embrace the Middle East predatory contaminant
Wallowing in solipsistic riches forgotten
Awake only to pick tomorrow’s gluttonous prey
The world turns on turbine propulsion
With oceans bowing to its slavery
Delivering liquid smokestack suffocation
Silent killers preparing ghosts
Of time’s new-century-plague
Ignored
As oil gorged tankers find port
Release their pandemic sleight of hand
A destruction as innocent as rabbits from a hat
Charms the ignorant
Beguiles the wannabes
Wheeled transport
Delivers the demise of children’s hearts
Left to take a number
Unaware there is no lottery
Only loser-consciousness
Adult indulgence clinging desperately
To evil’s mane and tail
As it whips gullible eyes
Into cataract submission
Alien life hovers above
Grieving the minions destined
To find black energy’s ashen dust
Sprinkling its fool’s gold
Upon a barren planet
Christmas shopping
Less and less, I like being near people
The café was full of people talking about
How expensive everything is
Buy less is my answer, prices will fall
Until you can afford to buy things you like
To a reduced price
Businesses react to demands by putting up
To rake in when the going is favorable
Wait till the market is sated, then pay less
Don’t be a slave to trends here today
Adverts tell lies about their great product
Nothing ever works, they say it does
If not, whatever it is, it normally breaks easily
Santa Claus was a port wine-drinking man
From Amsterdam making us into silly fools
The Ideal life
My poor mother "La Daniela"
As they called her at the Casa de los Picos
In the capital of Segovia
Where mothers and children took refuge
In the fratricidal war in Spain
While their husbands were
In the war between rocks
Bunkers and trenches
In the Guadarrama mountain range
Particularly in its port
Where at the foot of the lion monument
Placed in the center of the road
Symbolizing royal power
And its strategic value
For the defense of Madrid
Between the two sides
And its connection between Madrid and Castile
The nationalists and republicans met
To arrange, during their breaks from war
On weekends
Going down to the brothels of the capital
To have sex with fascists or militiawomen
Drawing lots to see who would be saved
In the war, once again, on Mondays, begun
While the women suffered and cried
To try to get ahead to her children
While her men fought "to the death."
"La Daniela" with five daughters no less
She had no help but that of the King of Heaven
"Who gave her health and protection"
As she herself said
And confidence in seeing her husband arrive victorious
From the Cabeza Lijar lookout
Having prepared his carnal furrow of love
For his long-awaited plow
Confidant that it was true that he was a saint
One of the few who hadn't come down to Madrid
To let off steam with the street-walking whores.
One day, when "La Daniela" and her daughters
Along with other women and children
Were near the chapel of El Carmen
In San Rafael, Segovia
Praying to the Virgin
That her husband would arrive safe and sound
She saw herself weeping with joy
Seeing her husband mounted on his horse
Tired, but happy, victorious.
She signaled to him, called him.
The hermitage bells ringing
The town was all excited
She and her daughters running to congratulate him
Promising him that today he would have his field
Open to all his passion of love
Although to his fellow women
He would have commented:
-That, because of my husband
My was like a cigarette paper
Still suffering well and a beauty
To Daniel, my love.
Everything is calm
Only silence going on
Getting caught up on speed
With a quick read
In the Sunday news
Not much to lose
Staring out in a placid lake
Still visual it does make
Glistening like a crystal
Opening the front page tension due to a missile
Getting caught when someone blew the whistle
Reporters did inquire
Diffusing the issue on the wire
Out in the tranquil water
Kids playing with a camcorder
Fooling around with jet skies
Using technology as a transportation tease
During the outing that is play
Children having fun in their own way
Nothing to worry about
Enjoying life without a pout
Youthful action is what it takes
Creating thoughtful challenging little wakes
There is a fisherman on a river
Relaxing while catching dinner
Immaturity maturity glides by
In a boat teenagers cheerful enthusiastic cry
Giving the angler a few waves
Waking him up from a sleepy grave
Sunbathers needing the glowing shine
On the beach in a line
Surfers holding on to a survival tool
Staying safe feeling blue
Being all wet while looking cool
Off in the distance
Vacation business having no resistance
Setting sail
Passengers writing postcard tales
Starting a commotion
In the port docked ocean
Setting off on an excursion
A floating luxury hotel is the escaping diversion
Motorize engines propelling a swirling ring
Circulating many natural things
All the way down to the sandy floor
Sending a current message to the shore
As well as those onboard
Looking to encounter a sizable score
Lazy
Hazy
Summer days are here
A good reason to pop open a peaceful Corona beer
Death, death, Oh! Old Death
Old death makes everybody dry and sad
Death even makes kings who are grumpy and mad
Absolutely powerless, helpless and useless
Death makes us mute, motionless, lifeless and deaf
In the darkest, hottest part of the crater
And deep within the brightest cell or cache of the chamber
Where too much light
Blinds the retinas and this is never right
Death makes everybody lifeless, powerless and useless
Death, death! Nobody can get used to you
Death, death! You are a fool too
For stealing life which is vitally precious
Death, death! You are backward and too ambitious
Nobody can get used to your ways
Because you make us part ways
Old death! You never show compassion and pity
You are wicked, greedy, sick and crazy
Old death, will you leave us alone?
Please use a different style and tone
Death, death, Oh! Old Death
Old death, you make everybody weak and mad
Old death, you make us worthless, lifeless and sad
Death, death, old death, please go away
Go, go away, please go, go find your way.
Copyright © April 25, 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
You are such a tool go back to school
they yelled at him without hindsight
You got nothing between your ears
pack it up Joe, walk only by night
He took his thermos and left for Rome
feeling like a dumbass, quite stupid
When he got there, two arms alone
greeted him, " dad your home!"
You would have thought the King arrived
together they made Osso in Buco ...
Drinking in the elixir of life his child derived
happiness, for his dad was really in the know!
Joe gave his resignation and became a chef
no, they didn't ask him for a passport.
He worked with a nice old man named Jeff
together they served Portuguese red port;
No one ever made him feel like a dum-dum again
as he poured the wine he asked, ... " say when?"
Rose-petal lips, first quarter-moon forehead, galaxy face
Dimpled chin, button nose, flimsy jaw, eyes with a wild gaze
Skin that lures and intoxicates, like Tawny Port wine
She's divine. She's benign. She's also a sign of decline.
Created from the dust, she should go back to the dust too.
A bunch of pride and as tentative as the morning dew
Was she Adam's wife? Was she Lucifer's wife? A goddess?
For values, virtues, and vices, she is a prophetess.
Snake, owl, lioness, and queen of hell, mother of Charlie
Signs of courage, femininity, and equality
Dominion over the mysteries of the night and day
Lilith is the laurel, wreath, and bouquet in every way.
We rise with ebb tide and flow.
Into the darkness of the night sky.
On the way, sincere nocturnal glow.
Look for sound, breeze, and flux tie.
Tussling to stay buoyant to get a cosmic way.
Once we perceive the level, it'll no long clave.
We halted prior to pursuing our pathway.
Reaching the top of every incoming wave.
Dark ocean spotted with the ritzy shore.
With its own peculiar set of needs and goals.
Like a boat was departing the harbor.
Vex me lost and later alone with my tolls.
On this endless night, a timeless dream.
Looking for a port and the earliest beam.
Written: July 14, 2022