Long Resorts Poems
Long Resorts Poems. Below are the most popular long Resorts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Resorts poems by poem length and keyword.
Signs
everywhere in Asia
you see strange variations
of English
Japlish, Konglish, Singlish
the street signs in Okinawa
are all in Chinese, Japanese, English and Koreans
the bus and train announcements as well
Hard to get lost
even when you want to
but the random encounters
with English words
puts a smile on my face
as I drink my “boss coffee”
wondering who is the “boss”
and why is smoking a pipe?
and many years ago
I saw on a menu
at the old Kimpo Airport
Baked Rick
and in Korean grocery stores
one can find
corn flights
I look forward
to many more years
of linguistic confusion
as I travel about Asia
Dream 1074 Visit to Okinawa Aquarium
Whenever I visit an aquarium,
zoo or wild life park
I am reminded of a prison
the prison is filled with animals
who amuse us for their food
I am sure that the animals
hate us humans
who are watching them
do their animal thing
but looking into their eyes
the eyes of the sea turtles
swimming back and forth
in their prison cell
in the Okinawa aquarium
filled with hatred
for the humans
who had imprison them
and hunt their kind
and don’t get me started
on the dolphins and killer whales
who preform acrobatic feats
for their daily meals
and the sharks
the king of the ocean killers
they too
if they could
they surely would
escape
their prison cell
screaming
Death to all humans
as they flee
back into the ocean’s depths
Okinawa West Coast Road
Riding down the west coast road
of Okinawa
echoes of other beach roads
fill my head with memories
I am reminded of Hawaii
and driving along the Oregon coast
east coast beach towns as well
and Barbados
and the Caribbean islands
all the roads
are lined with tourist resorts
beach views and restaurants
all very similar
yet different
and as the beach towns
fade away
behind us on the bus
my memories
of all the other beach towns
I have visited
fade away
into my memory hole
she comes in July on years she wants to come
Her name is unknown, but she terrorizes everyone
a poltergeist with a mission to shake us in our sleep
She is particularly annoying when our slumber is so deep
we wake up with a start, after she whispers in our ear our name.
no idea what she is after, but each visit is relatively the same.
She gets us up with a whisper, than resorts to clicks and a pop.
We beg her to go away, the children yell for her to stop!
Is it a relative? Someone asked me when I shared the story.
No idea, I told them, but she is terrifying in her loudest glory.
She shakes the windows and rattles the hinge off our closet door.
We beg her to leave us alone, but she shakes us when we snore.
The bed is sometimes lifted up and then thrown back on the ground.
Fearful she is going to really hurt us, she is annoying to have around.
The Tangled Flower Garden
The garden, so meticulously planted,
Enriched with mulch, and carefully proportioned,
Pleases the eye with colour and assortment
But resorts to chaos when left unattended.
Nature abhors the hand’s uniformity,
Demanding a mess of the plurality.
Each species struggles for dominance to survive
(Between plant and weed or whatever else one finds)
For nutrients and sunlight to bloom and attract bees
For pollination and propagation of its kind.
The apple tree’s branches shade the jungle below
(Which is littered with various flowers and growths)
From the elements, essential for their survival
In the tangled flower garden environment.
I am learning more about me.
Who I am and who I aim to be.
I have found an outlet of sorts
That allows me all resorts.
The Soup has given me many new friends
Ones that have put me on the path to mends.
All the lovely comments and critiques
Help me to learn new techniques.
Some are family and are biased
But the one that remains the highest.
Comes from a dear sweet friend
Who likes my work to no end.
Or maybe just my name
Whatever, remains the same.
His work speaks to me
In my minds eye can see
All the places and scenes
Playing out on a screen
Some shock like a taser
Thank you dear James Fraser
From river to the sea, an ocean of blood, filled with cries of children;
peace is broken, homes destroyed, lives shattered, a sea of refugees fleeing torrential bombs, under the ether of Western civilization resisting a ceasefire.
From river to the sea, Palestine is on the brink, like an express train to unspeakable tragedy befalling a whole nation, slated for extinction.
History's marching backward, to Rwanda and Auschwitz, a clever strategem for land without its original people, invaded by European settlers citing holy book to lay their claims, like Spanish conquistadors, proclaiming an "empty continent."
From river to the sea, a nation rises and put down like new Spartacus, mutinous against their slavery, and the new King Cnut desperately summoning the waves for Eretz Israel, with no more checkpoints and separation walls; they're only needed for an apartheid state.
From river to the sea, priceless treasures, highlighting architectural ensembles of centuries, buried under the chorus 'finish them,' finish them all, old, young, women, children, their animals too. The magic of land that spawned world religions suddenly has dwindled to a trickle of humanity, the catharsis of a crisis of spirit, shutting down conscience, and soon new settler homes shall be built on tower of skulls, with Gaza's unwelcome beaches available to western tourists again, offering kayakers great thrills at discounted prices, with its banks lined with daffodils and new palm trees, so the pleasure boats can anchor for a day to take advantage of the whirlpools of new resorts with a big sign, no Palestinian allowed.
From river to the sea, the light glows within the dispossessed, and with each martyr, their spirit of resistance blooms, and the saga lingers: Palestine will be free, and Jews and Muslims shall live together in peace.
Pray, what use vouching witless words so vain?
For men to tread only two tracks seem sane:
Youthful beauty’s well-bestowed a bosom,
Retire or else to woods, make ho nor hum.
_________________________
Translation(quatrain) | 21.08.2025 | men, romance, women, forest
Note: Here is a verse from Bhartrihari’s Shringaara Shatakam (hundred verses on love and romance) in this case in Maalinee meter. It says, let us cut down all words of wisdom so vain. When it comes to bare basics, there are only two ways in this world well their worth for a man to pursue, both as last resorts: a youthful beauty’s well-bestowed bosom, or retiring to forest, far from the madding crowd as they say. Note the rhyming assonance and alliteration: yauvanam va vanam va. Here is transliteration of the verse:
Kim iha bahubhih uktaih yukti-shunyaih pralaapaih
Dvayam iha purushaanaam sarvadaa sevaneeyam ||
Abhinava mada-leelaa-laalasam sundareenaam
Stana-bhara parikhinnam yauvanam vaa vanam vaa || 72 ||
Ivanka and Melania walking the 5th Avenue Street
Red Wolves stalking their beat
Being ever so sweet
Looking at the window dressing
Critical topics they are addressing
Knowing Daddy Donald will get them a treat
If they make Democrats feel the heat
Riding the hood
Having an image that is goodie good
Long way from the run way
Always having an audience to what they say
Loving her step Mom
In one’s handbag code to the gossip bomb
Staying very calm
Both having fashionable ware
Taking a share
From booking and signing an art deal
Then dining on gourmet meals
It is fourth and goal to go
In the game called ‘who do you know’
Defending the Delaware man from stealing the Oval Office show
Should there be a pass or run
Decision when done
Will energize critics if executed and not won
With the two state General in command
Beachside resorts ready to make a stand
Calling the bluff
To those who claim to have the right stuff
Or showing a hand
Stating “Maybe better to be just a fan”
Stay cool
Little red wolves
Be reminded at the pool
There many of you
Getting their skin red
Staying away from debt
Granted they can get sun burn
Which they would learn
Under the moon light
Romantic in sight
Enjoy the sun and times
Sipping the proper wine
But when the final gun is heard
Bringing calmness to the grid iron stir
Something may occur
High hopes to the mind
Of those making a dime
Riding the All American Acela commuter train
Debating weather it’s going to rain
Destination,
Tampa
a college party
we arrive
Finally!!
Carrying
Coors Light 30 pack
cans
already,
my mind is far from right
USF
a theme party
throwback middle school
dance
I'm focused
WOW
standing in front of me
"hey"
"I really like those pants."
having to remember
what i wore in eighth
grade
came with such difficulty
i wore something home made
A
knitted
pullover
vest
black
over a
Fruit Of the Loom
white tee
white gold,
rested
on my chest
and Ralph Lauren
blue jeans
beer pong,
card games
bikinis galore
pink, white thongs
crazy insane
what was in store
staggeringly
Drunk,
half naked
colligiates dancing
with intoxicated grace
inhibitions
not tonight
I stayed
all through
the night
danced with
many females
Alright
my next destination,
Naples
i must leave
at first light
While living in Florida i ventured to beaches, resorts, college dorm parties, and all out
mayhem.. this is just one of many tales....... This was definitely a VIVA Vacation....
Sometimes, those difficult road
Will lead you to beautiful places
The opening view receives bad comments
For the road is rocky, unpaved and dusty
Many who travel by are not comfortable
Some hopeless and some wondered why
They travel such misery experience to repent
Left no choice but to go and move forward
The travel is truly a humpy-bumpy experience
Silence and self-censorship are the busy phrase
The way is lackadaisical turtle uphill and downhill
Feel refresh as the crisp air welcome them a mile away
Sudden break joy in the lungs and touching chill in the skin
All eyes now is exciting as the nature's nice view is unfolding
They alive their curiosity, on their cameras and now start recording
The road now quite smooth and under construction
To pave answer the town folks demands for government projects
You'll see the traveler's faces now are happy
For the place is a tourist attraction and staycation
There are natural spring, a local resort for tourists
Forest cabin for mountaineers, sky-rocket falls for nature lovers
More modest hotels and vacation houses for long-term stayers
Affordable beaches at the bay resorts for snorkels and bathers
Exuberant eaters of local and foreign delicacies are for choices
For a hungry mouth, mukbangers and food lovers alike
The place is a secluded paradise that only few discovered
What people hates first impression
God has provide great expectation.
Country living, casual, comfortable, mashed potatoes,
Meat loaf, corn on the cob, and plenty of butter, oozing
Gardens are blooming with vegetables, tasty and fresh,
Succulent tastes popping out in unexpectedly wonderful ways,
Barnyard cats are squatting behind bushes waiting for
Blue and red birdsongs to swoop in, catching a gray wren.
A welcoming porch sits waiting, warmed by the sun, admiring
The gardener in the over-sized straw hat.
She bides her time, knowing she will be more popular after supper.
Aromatic lilacs wafting scents in from the side porch,
Butterflies flit amongst the Rose of Sharons
Robin chases cardinal away from the feeder,
thinking she has had a long enough turn.
Blue jay makes his move. I look into the sun for a second;
wondering what she is thinking.
Perhaps she is admiring my gorgeous yard.
Other people vacation at resorts.
I stay here. Country living.
Nothing prettier or more
Delightful.