Long Rigging Poems
Long Rigging Poems. Below are the most popular long Rigging by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rigging poems by poem length and keyword.
Gluggy margarine marine grips keels
Apex sun spreads sickly circle of lard
Plugged lungs, gust momentum marred
Strait elongates co-ordinate, pace killed
Gliding knife grease fixed current kestrels
Impotent motor pendulums drowsy matelot
Vacating tranquillity served seas slow
Exoteric tampers spatula flat vapid vessel
Crusading armada cruise aquatic canyon
Rigid crucifix mast meanders evangelical
Illusive land sinks split quills, sodalite inkwell
Top-gallant swallowed, whale snack plankton
Inert surrender line honours, hundred strong
Quelled by existence Earth centric
Universe of solar centre offensive
Encourages complacent latent symposium
Rigging ties tradition to methods regaled
Order drifts on brittle fine line filament
Oceanic only planet confirms familiar
Moribund remains phobic, slick oil sailed
18th February
Fear of Anarchy
GAPS GIVE CRITIQUE ROOM
If you rigged this evolutionary Game of Life
as if it were Win/Win Polyculturally Universal
Yang/Yintegral Love/Love
defaulted,
[so LoveSelf = LoveOther is
InteriorMind Ego = ExteriorBody EcoEarthTribe
Not SelfIdentity = NotSelf SpaceTime-Yintegral Other
/Yang EgoSpace]
then wouldn't you tend to think of life
as a (0)-soul-Zen Basic Attendance
polymath buddha-path
Timeless ego-as-eco-holon
Earth WuWay
co-inviting all bipartisan Me/We participants
to arrive at our Climax of EcoConsciousness Advent
together
BiCamerally co-arising,
rather like uncovering that last turned-upsidedown card
in a global game of solitaire
with a fully optimized Win/Win ReSolution,
when you suddenly comprehend
"We have won!"
because each card won a true=Win placement position
allowing us to line up all our win/win pursuits
and communication frames
and interdependent paradigms
As if with full intent and will
of each co-informing card
regenerating positive order
from what appeared to be negatively random chaos.
No humane card can win alone,
like trying to clap with one hand
But,
in right relationship with a full systemic deck,
each win/win strategic choice
will declare positive potential
within a Beloved Cooperative Experiencde!
(at last...at last...our co-empathic time turns!)
But only as all racing species resolve and resonate,
co-emerge our win/win Adventure
co-revolving Ego/Eco bilateral solidarity
Global WeMind
as one EarthTribe
of CoOperative MeBody,
authentically enlightened
empowering ego/eco-integrity.
Minus adverse side effects
courtesy Ropinirole HCL
couple nights I did try,
albeit yours truly wanted to die,
plus also yearned tubby
among grrrrrreat full dead, no lie,
yes absent asthenia, fatigue,
and/or malaise oh my
nausea, vomiting, somnolence, dizziness,
and asthenic condition,
I woefully did decry
unconsciously kicking,
thrashing, twitching, wife kvetching
downing aforementioned medication
found me awry
beseeching psalm body
e'en the Sultan of Brunei
or sovereign from Abu Dhabi
to administer euthanasia,
I would willingly rectify
to bid good riddance and goodbye
experiencing said unpleasant reactions
listed above, hence death wish
of mine to comply
expressed modus operandi doth underlie
trawling the net whereby, to crucify
rigging (leg giddy met) i.e. legitimate
gofundme site could justify
assisted suicide recycling, reimbursing
repurposing... biodegradable cross -
guaranteeing faithful ethics to fortify
upon me rising masses will deify
an imperfectly square profane guy
skeptic at heart, unsure soul will go skyhigh,
or descend into Dante's inferno,
hmm... methinks hot meal my
olfactory organ doth nasally espy
summat good cooking, therefore aye
got hearty appetite unbearable symptoms
amazingly relieved, that scare did mortify,
now get secular humanist off doggone †
lest he gets cross and promises to nullify
future aery missions...
sidelining death, viz abort... fail... retry
else fans ye will need to pacify,
and posthumous rock star status
martyr on your stained hands
leaving widow whose syrup prize
zing tears unceasingly cry
without spouse to henpeck,
she cannot deny
cuz, body (mine), saintly
nicked peep pulled, tattooed
with apostolic marks
sharp nib she did apply.
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ always knows the way she ought to go
There’s no-one left alive aboard to haul her rigging so
Her crew and Cap’n flounder on the seabed far below
But the ‘Satan’s Daughter’ sails on for she knows which way to go
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ sets her sails in fear of no tempest
Of all the fears of sailor men it’s fog she likes the best
Though never has a lookout seen her quickly turn about -
To head into a fog; but some have seen her coming out
Only one of these survived to rave about the day
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ thundered from the eerie, misty grey
The Captain of the ‘Godspeed’ knew he had to save his neck
When an albatross fell from the sky and crashed down on the deck
He raved about a spectacle, he raved about a tentacle
He tossed his log into the sea encased in a receptacle
So when they said, ‘Survived’, perhaps they might have stretched the truth
For when the ‘Godspeed’ sank his log was all we had for proof
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ sails on unmolested as she goes
Unperturbed that somewhere there’s a flotilla that grows
Moving on, they had a face off midst the arctic ice
She watched those ships all go down in not much more than a trice
But what might be the spectacle and what could be the tentacle
Can a sailing ship ever be quite so reprehensible
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ came and went and soon we’d understand
As one tentacle… and then another… crept upon our land
.Bare Feet Cold
. morning stills
. the first light
. salt breath on lips
. horizon unfolds
. hands letting go
. anchor raised
. sails catching wind
. harbor growing small
. pulse quickening
. fortune calling
. we're on our way
. ON THE TIDE
. sky closing
. canvas straining
. throat tightening
. sails shredding
. anchor dragging
. hope ebbing fast
. shore receding
. winds howling
. rigging screaming
. light fading fast
. sea salt stings eyes
.Tide has Ebbed out
physical form anchors reality
By: Professor Uxas
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In ancient Greece: Farmers built wooden statues
of Priapus, the god of fertility and viticulture,
to protect crops and scare away animals This tradation
was still used when these farmers came to America
. They settled in places and grew Sorghum × drummondii,
or Sudan Grass Ducks, geese, quail, doves, and various
backyard birds like sparrows eat Sudan grass seeds and the culm
Erecting a scarecrow taller than the 7 to eight feet stalks helps
fear off these bird who feast on the seeds and plant it self.
In 2027 a sceintist had a plan to create a scarecrow
that could be used at night. It would be a robot that creeped
alongside with the animals to scare them off. Ussing his knowledge and
standing true to his feild, he used the teaching from LuthorCorp. College,
where he had a degree in Robotics Engineering. He first created a simulation
using his computer. Rigging: Building a digital skeleton hierarchy of joints
and bones inside a 3D model so it can be posed and moved He then created the robot. It needed an itellegent software to allow it to almost micmic a human Biomimetic humanoid
he stride to have the robot as creature like as possible but in a human like way". Features were created and borrowed he said". To the warning of his assists, who warned against certain upgrades and patent violations ".Human-like and autonomous robots are becoming dangerously capable as they enter public spaces and battlefields with limited safety regulations and unpredictable behaviors" said one who wished to be removed from the project.
--------------------------------------
magnetohydrodynamics
Hannes Olof Gösta Alfvén
-------------------------------------
low-brass instruments, heavy industrial percussion, and the pipe organ
Foley sound
Ocean surge, reflecting moon
Mermaids, sirens swim and swoon
Haunting song, night and day
Tethered boat just sailed away
Seadog specter with loud cuss
Shot himself with blunderbuss.
Erstwhile pirate ship revealed
Crew long dead their fate was sealed
Zombies scale tattered rigging
Captain Kyd counts his shilling
Sound of cutlass, who walked plank?
Bag of bones with chains that clank.
Lighthouse spread its haunted light
Spirits jump in mad delight
Ghostly antics in the deep
From Davey’s Locker spirits seep
Ocean boils with mystery
You and I will never see
Pixabay Image
by
Hullabaloo22
I once was a farmer
I worked the land
I reaped the corn
With a scythe in my hand
I ploughed my furrow
I sowed my seed
I grew my crops
My family to feed
One day hot and thirsty
With the sun going down
I went for to drink
At the alehouse in town
As I was a drinking
There at the Inn
Without any warning
The press gang came in
So I was taken
I was taken so fast
And told that my future
Was before the mast
So in my fields
I no longer plough
Instead the wide ocean
I must plough now
From hauling on ropes
My hands are all torn
Sometimes I wish
I had never been born
Our captains a hard man
If one of us fails
He'll have us flogged
With a cat o' nine tails
When I climb the rigging
I oft times will find
I think of the family
That I left behind
One day I'll jump ship
And I'll stay on shore
I'll serve the Kings navy
Never no more
I'll return to my loved ones
I'll go back to the land
Once more I will reap
With my scythe in my hand
I've sailed the wide oceans
Seen Paris and Rome
But nothing compares
With my humble home
Denis Briggs
Eight bells.
Starboard watch.
Tightened up another notch.
Holy upheaval rages ‘neath a cathedral sky.
Losing way as the wind whips up the spray.
Stormy tormentors rubbed salt in my one good eye.
Felt the tension in the rigging.
Sensed the strain upon the keel.
Manned the pumps and reefed the tops’ls.
Heaven’s judgment; no appeal.
Two bells.
Buntlines fouled.
Ship’s physician prays aloud.
Hearts have been pounding since the tempest began to brew.
Kingdom come, can’t remember where we’re from.
Tried to dream back, but it’s blurred as an old tattoo.
Once we knew the harbor’s shelter.
Once we heard the shorebird’s song.
Once we mocked the earth we stood on,
Starved the weak to feed the strong.
Four bells.
Spied the coast.
Lashed the helmsman to his post.
Punished ourselves, though it’s the ocean that misbehaves.
Bells ring true, but I can’t add two and two.
Crew punchy and shot from bucking the white-capped waves.
Heard the bos’n howl for mercy.
Watched the cabin boy grow old.
Wished the rock should split the timber
And the sea should flood the hold.
Six bells.
Somber tones.
Felt the sound caress my bones.
Silver-tongued sirens tried to lure me beneath the foam.
Break that thread; like to find my way to bed.
Early comes early, and mate, it’s a long trip home.
For the times we played the bully,
Breaking teeth and pulling hair,
For the treasures that we’ve buried
And the dimes we couldn’t spare,
I’ll be a damned Dutchman’s fool.
Like to blow the bastard down.
Eight bells.
Larboard watch.
Tightened up another notch…
With billowed sails the Schooner glides across the open sea
The crew secures the rigging as they’ve done through history
Port side there’s a Humpback coming up to take a look
They watch in pure amazement its like a picture from a book.
The Skipper takes the Helm and guides the vessel on its path
The crew they scramble round the deck to fight mother natures wrath
Everyone has got their job the Main Trimmer, Mast and Pit
The Secondary Trim the Foredeck and the Main Trim/Tactics
As the Schooner fights the rugged waves The Skipper steers the wheel
It brings on such excitement that it can not be concealed
With puffy trade-wind clouds above waves of blue below
If one gets the chance to sail, the Schooners the way to go