Long Rafted Poems
Long Rafted Poems. Below are the most popular long Rafted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rafted poems by poem length and keyword.
Hello young man! I surely have heard a lot about you.
I drove here as soon as I heard the news,
And I’ve something to say if you can excuse.
God gave a bird in my nest, we call her Steffy.
She grew up fair, slim, silent but was obtuse sometimes.
Nothing made her happier than the pair of ankle bells.
She wore it like Kumudini and let her feet dwell.
Day and night she stomped her feet until the floor sing.
Everything was fine until the tables turned and fate blink,
She lost her mother.
She needed a blanket as these winds blew chill,
A mother in her father and make her life still.
While she was sinking in the ocean like black granules,
I rafted and drown myself in my Jack Daniels.
She wore ankle bells and dance to live again.
But her efforts to take my booze away were all in vein
One day she came from the school looking for her happiness.
And she found nothing but the loneliness again.
For my booze I’d her ankle bells pawn,
Shattered by this, by morning my bird had flown.
“Steffy never mentioned about her childhood and now
I know why”, saying this young man made a way for me
So I can see her the last time.
Drenched in sorrow I move towards her coffin,
And touched her feet that where as hard as dolphin.
With the tears coming from my mangled shell,
I slowly kept inside the coffin, her pair of ankle bells…
- Kunal Rathod
A tribute to all dancers. :)
The ones who would soak
the mother who drowned
her children in serpentine
seas never floated a child.
When splashed amongst
the horror-stricken,
we too feign revulsion.
Evoke higher powers and
baptismal pools: the fluidity
in the womb. The commingled bond.
But single us out, and buoys
snare our feet as we swim for
shore. Weighted down and engulfed
with load in tow – bondage.
Admit it!
Not a one hasn’t considered
suffocating that incessant
whining beneath the softness
of a comforting wave or lifejacket –
has not wished we could hurl the
wailing one at a shoreline just to make it
Stop.
That shrill that turns all heads at
a pool party where somehow
every 4-year-old but yours is
peacefully partaking in cake –
But yours must splash the dry.
Or don another’s pink towel.
Or dive off the high board.
Just five more minutes.
Drown.
This is not a topic a mother can
bring up casually over coffee.
Too fierce for me, possibility bobs to the surface.
Since the time her sucking
rubbed my areolas raw, we’ve had
our moments – times when I could’ve
river rafted her
perhaps reclaiming her upon maturity.
I need alone time, I explain
inexplicably to the baby blues
locked on with innocent revulsion.
I have drowned her out with work,
and she notes the behavior –
will avert her own children’s guilt-
provoking glare when she
demands alone time.
Craves it.
Even as I type, the whine is still there,
abutting my every keystroke,
pushing my buttons until I wish to
gurgle deep and low, like a wave that comes
up crashing then subsumed by the next
and next until their edges blur.
Toni got the blues. Allowed herself
the chance to drown one out in fiction.
She was a mother after all.
Right now, a single drop at the surface
might take hold and pull me under.
Please abandon this line
before you immerse your baby
for a poem.
Coach shouts out:
Slow your stroke and focus on form…
and try to remember: breathe.
But despite that advice,
I gurgle like she did.
And then I remember
to love.
When did you enter into my life?
Was it when the crying baby in the cradle received a warm hug from her mother?
or was it when the children cheerfully ran home after the school's long bell?
When did you start sharing your creamy thoughts with me?
Was it when the baby nightingale gifted its first tune to the world?
or was it when the cutie caterpillar emerged out of its white house?
When did you take my hand into yours?
Was it when the sun secretly promised to enhance the glory of the earth with its light and warmth?
or was it when the green leaf slipped off its blanket early to get the food ready for its family?
When is that you spoke the words of love to me?
Was it when the love birds passionately kissed under the romantic twilight?
Or was it when the air smoothly carried the anther's pollen to the bed of stigma?
When did you even dare to steal my sorrow bag?
Was it when the mighty mangroves tried to stop the high rising oceanic tides?
Or was it when the fiery tigress generously caressed the lost bear cub?
When did you first kiss my forehead?
Was it when the proud mother rafted through the waters of her daughter's success?
Or was it when the nation proudly turned the pages of its history book?
When did you decide upon being my life mate?
Was it when the word "responsibility" stepped into the world of letters?
or was it when Adam took the onus of Eve in the garden of Eden?
I really don't want to be immersed in ferreting for answers to all these questions.
All I want is to live and be lost in every moment of this togetherness.