Long Puget Poems
Long Puget Poems. Below are the most popular long Puget by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Puget poems by poem length and keyword.
Right now, in the Northwest town of Seattle,
Seahawks egos must be higher than the Space Needle.
On the west coast, it was just a little after seven,
when the Seahawks faithful felt they entered seventh heaven.
After what happened at the Super Bowl outside of New York,
numerous fans in Washington are popping a champagne cork.
Others must be loading up on whiskey, wine, and beer.
For what happened tonight, they have a good reason to cheer.
To celebrate, many of them were getting ready
long before that blizzard of green and yellow confetti.
From Tacoma and Olympia all the way to Puget Sound,
I’m sure there are many happy fans that can be found.
Ah, King Biden, thou dost lie to me!
When thou blamest Putin for everything from sea to sea!
Dost my head look like it’s made of wood?
Your thieving son, Hunter’s, probably could!
Why not tell our kingdom of the three houses in Delaware you own?
Of course, on CNN, these facts....shan’t ever be shown!
It’s said you have much charm and charisma?
Did you learn such grace, in the halls of Burisma?
Your progeny’s laptop, some purport has never been found?
It drowned, one moonlit night, I heard in Puget Sound.
4-1-2022
Wear a salmon on your head,
the wild Orca said,
make it a big chinook
or perhaps a steelhead.
It's very avant-garde;
it makes a fashion dent,
and kittens think the smell
is heaven sent.
A salmon hat is a cultural fad displayed by orcas, where they wear dead salmon upon their heads. It was first observed in 1987 with southern resident orcas and was a relatively short-lived phenomenon. In 2024, the behaviour was observed again with orcas in Puget Sound. The motivations for salmon hats are unclear, but other orcas will mimic the behaviour once it begins. One hypothesis is that orcas wear salmon hats to display high food availability, or that the same individuals that originally started the trend revitalized it. It may also indicate playfulness. ~Wikipedia
Here’s your roaming reporter, the Average Joe,
Always reporting, always on the go.
I’m reporting today on the impending battle,
As state troops amass in the city of Seattle.
Much to the surprise of our neighbors up North,
The state of Washington is marching forth
To capture Vancouver Island and Victoria city
Because, being Canadian, she’s much too pretty.
“We’ll just extend the longitude in a straight line;
Gerrymandering is accomplished all of the time”,
Says the proud Governor of the Evergreen State,
Hoping the Mounties rally too late.
“Victoria, for Canada, is too far south
Sitting right dab in the middle of Puget Sound’s mouth,
To Washington state she rightfully belongs
And we shall take her with a rallying throng.
“British Columbia can find a new capitol city.
Vancouver, from the Olympics, everyone knows is so pretty.
Just give us Victoria without any fight
To keep peace between us, you know it’s just right.”
So off I now ride in this navy of ferries
On a surprise attack with a border to vary
Armed to the teeth with passport in hand
Which all of us need now to enter this land.
When next I am able to send a report to you
I’m hoping this seizure is successfully through
And Washington State will have Victoria to claim
As a city of her own, adding more to our fame.
Today was a travel day and as we rode another ferry across the Puget Sound
anticipating what adventure would come next
my reverie was interrupted when on my phone…I received a text.
The text is one I think I shall forever keep upon my fridge.
It was from the woodchuck Deborah and I met in Olympic Park
while up on Hurricane Ridge.
She let me know she finds the word woodchuck offensive
how anger in her it spurs…
and in any future poems about her…she texted…it’s marmot she prefers.
I texted her right back apologizing for using woodchuck as her name
Informing her I have always thought they were both the same.
She agreed but said she, as a marmot, has her pride…
and she feels using marmot instead of woodchuck is much more dignified.
When I asked her why she said with the name marmot…she feels more at home
because she connects the name woodchuck with that old god-awful poem.
You know the poem she said…the one that makes fun of my livelihood…
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck…if a woodchuck could chuck wood.
And then that angry little marmot in her text when on to say
No one ever asks how much wood could a marmot chuck…and I prefer it that way.
Again, I apologized for my faux pas, told her I’d write a retraction and then
I let her know that I will never make that same mistake again.
When we were finished I admit for a moment I found this all perplexing
to think that for the last few minutes…with a marmot I was texting.
I assumed that if I asked the marmot how she could text so good…
She would smile and tell me how a woodchuck could not text
but how a marmot could.
Wind whips ocean waves into a frenzy of frightening beauty. ~by Poet
I'm not an aficionado of the ocean,
Pacific Northwest beaches are rainy
and cold or too rainy, cold and foggy
or just plain cold and then just too windy.
Oceans are beautiful when in landscape paintings
and television documentaries,
in romantic stories of letters in bottles
cast into the vast sea by stranded buccaneers.
I prefer the sweet babbling brooks
meandering through green forests
in the foothills of the Cascade mountains,
and calm lakes reflecting Mount Rainier's beauty.
The ocean is both beautiful and strange
here near the mighty Puget Sound;
Orca occasionally wear a salmon hat
and no one really knows why.
The Octopus might be extraterrestrial,
which would explain random sightings of UAPs~
but honestly, in universal algorithms
of beauty, Cape Disappoint never disappoints.
I dreamed I accidentally bought two expensive tickets to a musical play about Thomas Jefferson, then figured, what the hell, Rhonda and I might as well go. Then an ex showed up, someone I get along with fine to this day, but I was surprised in the dream that she screamed horrible curses at me.
As I was walking over a drum bridge at a zoo, I realized I had to take care of the Jefferson tickets which I'd wadded up and put in my right-hand pocket, the one with the hole in it. Fortunately it hadn't fallen through the hole, so I took the two attached tickets and tried to unwad them and smooth them out on the bridge's railing, but the tickets preferred to stay wadded up.
As I was waking up, something smelled like it was cooking and I momentarily wondered if I'd left the stove on the night before when I made spring-burgers. But the radio was on and they said the reason the atmosphere stank of barbecue was towns around Puget Sound were being "smoked" by forest fires in British Columbia. So good, I hadn't left the stove top on, I could relax.
I'd been up most of the night and hadn't gone to bed until about 4:30, so I fell back to sleep and dreamed I was wandering the countryside with the ghost of Johnny Cash. He was so pleasant. I was so happy to be with him. I wasn't sure he was dead, because here we were together, I must've misremembered. It's not my usual sort of dream, a happy one that is.
I didn't wake up until ten. Went down stairs and discovered the oven was on! Rhonda had put a big slice of apple pie in there hours earlier, then went off to work forgetting about it. Surprisingly it wasn't burned. It was dehydrated and flattened into a crispy apple tart. So I ate it.
I love a Seattle rainy night
Clouds hang low over the Puget Sound
The city glowing under streetlamp halos
From Alaskan Way to Capitol Hill
I love the way the drops start slow
Soft taps on the roof then a rolling beat
Like the sky has a rhythm
Saved for nights just like this
A spark in the sky as the storm arrives
Light flickering over Elliott Bay
Ferries float through foggy mist like ghosts
Like they are carrying secrets across the water
I love the shine after rainfall
Puddles catching neon from Pike Place signs
The skyline blurred just enough
Like a dream you can walk through
When I am out in the midnight drizzle
I feel the whole region breathing with me
Evergreens swaying and streets glistening
The Puget Sound humming an old familiar tune
I love a Seattle rainy night
It is the kind of night to settle the soul
The kind which washes the noise away
Wiping the slate clean for Seattleites
(do enjoy frolicking gently imaginatively)
County seat, of Mason County,
Washington, United States
westernmost city on Puget Sound
above ground sans tectonic plates
population 9,834 per 2010 census
end result from biological mates
maintains commission form
of government drafted by mandates.
Shelton served by small steamboats
comprising Puget Sound Mosquito Fleet
Old Settler, Irene, Willie, City of Shelton,
Marian, Clara Brown, & S.G. Simpson
logging, farming, dairying, ranching
& oyster cultivation for populace to eat
Simpson Timber Company mill
on Puget Sound's Oakland Bay over yon
dominates landscape of the down
town area as essential heart beat
Shelton identifies the "Christmas
Tree Capital" sold by the ton.
47°12'49?N 123°6'22?W (47.213702,
-123.106088) coordinate bench mark
total area of 5.9 square miles (15 km2),
of which 5.6 square miles (15 km2) land
0.3 square miles (0.78 km2) (5.60%)
water laps with an occasional errant shark
in a pinch captured, processed and canned
a delicacy that fin de siecle bony
illegal booty fined by the oceanic narc.
well nigh two and a half decades in the past
this poet trekked across America
beginning in a place called Gap
Pennsylvania - where stockpile
of Amish goodies barely did last
and vanished in a gingerly snap
of fingers, which necessitated
sustenance when van fueled i.e. gassed
up while myself or the other
driver stole a short nap
seduced to sleep by syncopated tires
as highway miles passed
inching closer to youngest sister
via this linear transcontinental lap
destination Seattle Washington
indigenous iconic statue cast.
Ronald Strickland a fine companion
(posted bulletin for traveling fine companion
at Hostelling International - Chamounix Falls Mansion
West Fairmount Park),
and boone story teller to boot
about my age (now five decades plus nine)
then trying to rake in some loot
by writing about his travels,
yet unpretentious and not able
to square an Apple pi circle
nor, calculate square a root
perhaps one day, I will surprise him
with a call and give him a toot.
Carved in the cliffside of the Northwest sky
Four faces rise where the evergreens lean
Legends cut from rain grit and skyline light
Generational talent brought a city to its feet
*Ken Griffey Jr.*
The Kid with the swing smooth as Puget tides
Hat tilted like he already knew the future
A smile that turned baseball into daylight
He didn’t just play in Seattle
He made Seattle’s dreams feel possible
*Gary Payton*
The Glove stitched from concrete and confidence
Trash talk sharp enough to slice fog
Defense tight as a fist around destiny
He guarded the city like it was a secret
Only he was allowed to keep
*Sue Bird*
The architect of calm in a storm of noise
Angles and vision drawn like constellations
Four banners rising behind her like steady wings
Poise so cold it could freeze a shot in midair
Yet warm enough to lead a dynasty
*Walter Jones*
A monolith in motion
A left tackle carved from glacier and gravity
Feet soft as rainfall with power deep as tectonics
13 years – 5,703 pass protection snaps - 9 holding penalties
Seattle quarterbacks slept easier because he existed
Four giants etched against a sky which knows rain well
Yet a city shines brighter because of what they built
Seattle sports Mt. Rushmore
Griffey, Payton, Bird, Jones
Stone
Story
Soul