Long River styx Poems
Long River styx Poems. Below are the most popular long River styx by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long River styx poems by poem length and keyword.
Our life is as evanescent as the
trumpet flower of the morning glory.
The merest chapter in the history
of mankind’s ever compelling story.
Various serendipitous ramblings
ultimately contingent ‘on quarry;
retold to captive audience in tones
melodious as silver-tongued lory.
Redolent of an evening-scented stock,
with a crown of wispy hair as hoary,
we insist to recount all endeavours
in its minute shocking details: gory.
An experience that's unsavoury –
remnants that cross river Styx in dory.
Poetic form: XAXA Sonnet. See my article, Introducing Three New Sonnet Forms, here on PS for more details. Also, a 'Summary of Metres' is depicted.
The merciless tide of time, keeps turning.
Every rotation, carves a new groove,
until the visage becomes a road map,
through death’s stygian waters.
Time is a vicious taskmaster and
betrayer of all women and men;
no one is exempt from the cuts of its blade.
Sailing through mortality,
the waters are sometimes choppy;
other times, newborn-skin-smooth.
Starboard, life’s tasks can feed our souls;
on port, the unexpected challenges,
may require decisions made in haste or desperation.
Sailing through time’s ticking-bomb waters,
is always a double-edged sword and
the finest sailors have succumbed,
to its darkest hour.
Finite mortality blinks and humans turn into antiques;
the dinosaurs that fade into oblivion.
Curiously, time never drowns the infinite soul;
energy lives on forever in, immortal realms.
As the tides roll to shore,
so must the mortal cross the waters, of River Styx.
Charon’s boat is always waiting.
Walter Baedeker is a hypochondriac.
His doctor says his ills are psychosomatic.
Walter reciprocates by calling him a quack.
The patient is healthy, but stays in bed.
He thinks he is sick, but it’s all in his head.
In a short period of time, he expects to be dead.
Up pops the devil by the name of Cadwallader.
The devil wants to make a deal with Walter.
This is a very unusual offer.
Cadwallader wants to make Mr. Baedeker immortal.
Also, Walter can be indestructible.
The former hypochondriac will feel no pain.
He can even survive being run over by a train.
To cross the River Styx, he has to pay a toll.
Walter gets immortality in exchange for his soul.
The man can avoid death no matter what the cause.
However, his contract contains an escape clause.
Do you want to know where things will go?
Next time it’s on television, watch the show.
Based on the Twilight Zone episode “Escape Clause”
Covid was a piece of driftwood in our psychic stream.
A dress rehearsal for the landslide that's coming.
To sweep us from our good dream.
An appetizer before the seven-course rapture.
It is written in our coffee-ringed bibles.
These prophecies cannot be undone.
We are caught up in the current of one global currency, economy.
The darkest of the darkest entities.
Armies are aligning aside the river Styx.
Around the dome of the golden rock.
Pieces of the temple are gathering.
The antichrist will proclaim he's God.
Demanding all bow down to his whim.
Some will be sated and seduced
donning the number of the damned,
Some will shimmer in unbowed faith
and be saved by the blood of the lamb.
housed within mine impenetrable hermetically
sealed invisible bubble
draped with blackened Hades
hued habiliment therein dwelt
sinister saboteur mastermind marauder of the Hubble
who demanded sacrifice to traverse
river styx with unadulterated gelt
which known phantasmagorical
donning double dutchmen's britches
whose piercing fiery ocular presence unseen but felt
thine true self amidst the aftermath
from Armageddon rubble
astride charred global ruins
entire civilization did melt
entire planet prognosticated
by Maya sages with 11th hour stubble
birthed this Darth Vader nemesis
with evil upon earth he did pelt
annihilating mankind, the derelict species
that fueled trouble
hence evil twin appointed apocalyptic
malevolence spelt
with mass crematorium desecration
left horrific blistering welt!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
countdown to *****sapiens extinction
predicted millenniums in past
to occur December 21 two thousand
and twelve after common era
whereby catastrophic spark detonating
inferno incinerating blast
eradicating extant flora and fauna
bereft sans hegira
with no means to interrupt the dusk key die
since dawn of civilization cast.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
impossible to escape ominous predetermined
fate of human rat race
nor turn back hands of time with origin
of species on clock face
thus ticking closer to hour of doomsday
without faith to brace
allowing, enabling and providing Gaia
to redeem terrestrial space
vestiges of teeming billions soon
erased criminal minds without a trace
forcefully relinquishing simians
planetary stranglehold amazing grace
proffering tabula rasa for another
dominant species to claim the place.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
sirens promulgate emergency toward
impending inescapable cataclysm
yet no place to run or hide lest one boards
a rocket light-years away
which makes suspense thrillers
birthed by John Grisham
enviable plot to keep total Earths’
destruction at bay.
Form:
Aeneid Book 6: The Descent into the Underworld
by Virgil
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The Sibyl began to speak to Aeneas:
“God-blooded Trojan, son of Anchises,
descending into the Underworld’s easy
since Death’s dark door stands eternally unbarred.
But to retrace one’s steps and return to the surface:
that’s the conundrum, that’s the catch!
Godsons have done it, the chosen few
whom welcoming Jupiter favored
and whose virtue merited heaven.
However, even the Blessed find headway’s hard:
immense woods barricade boggy bottomland
where the Cocytus glides with its dark coils.
But if you insist on ferrying the Styx twice
and twice traversing Tartarus,
if Love demands you indulge in such madness,
listen closely to how you must proceed...”
Keywords/Tags: Virgil, Aeneid, descent, underworld, Aeneas, death, door, Jupiter, heaven, woods, Cocytus, River Styx, Stygian, Hades, Tartarus, voyage, journey, love, madness, god, gods
Drowning in our incubus sleep,
phantom enemies are devised.
Easy answers for night terrors.
Social purgatory for the stranger,
Our river Styx for the brown ones.
Our fortress must wall them out.
Brown poverty is culpable.
Starving families must be criminals.
Racialism winking and nodding.
Jingoism sneering and taunting.
Everyone knows the words.
ICE round up the suspects.
Our delirious sorcery making police raids.
For us wall builders, it is always midnight.
For us distracted, there is never safety.
We are detainees of our nightmare,
POWs of our wraiths.
The smeared tirades offer glaucoma.
The duplicitous liars supply our slumber.
The scapegoating harangues support our night blindness.
Yet, we always awaken sweating
in our witless twisted sheets.
ADAGIO
Do not ask why sad music is slow
Reverence should never be rushed
For those memories looking back
A certain thoughtfulness is correct
Allowing remembrance and respect
For all that has now faded to black
And all voices that now are hushed
Yet the river Styx continues to flow
I can’t turn back the hands of time
As our lives must all now move on
Embracing tomorrow not yesterday
Feelings can be seen in many guises
Face a future with its own surprises
Autumn leaves all get blown away
What’s to come, not what has gone
Even if sounding like complex rhyme
There’s always the room for a smile
Grim expressions can’t last for long
Despite whatever the heart may feel
Sadness is not a permanent fixture
We are each made up as a mixture
If the day is cloudy, at least it is real
An occasional look back isn’t wrong
So, remember, if just for a little while
We crossed the streams where the fool's gold gleams as we joked and told our stories
And each man spoke of his love and home when work's all done this Fall
When the work's all done this Fall
We hadn’t made it halfway up with Bill still trailing badly
When Johnny said to Pete and Joe let’s stop here and eat dinner
We'd be home in time for supper
Slide Whistle Ike said a plan I like presents itself most handy
So I went back down to round up Bill my beans and biscuits waiting
My beans and biscuits waiting
I turned my mount back down the hill an eye peeled for Bill’s pony
When it caught my eye upslope in the bye near a shaking quakie standing
A shakey quakie standing
That’s where my knees like the trembling trees moved in the breeze a whisperin’
But it wasn’t the wind left the bone and skin above my boots a'shakin’
Surely, I was mistaken
Young Bill had tied his horse to a sapling down where the trail was bending
And climbed up high framed in the sky behind him dark as midnight
What happened to the daylight?
A ghastly glow surrounds him so like embers from the Devil’s campfire
His eyes and face had greatly aged and he smiled like the rage of the Talon River
The raging Talon River
For there stood Bill on that cursed hill his eyes ablaze like lightning
Astride a stream that'd turned to steam under where Mad Bill was standing
Right where that Bill was standing
It hissed and moaned and turned the stones I swear to molten metal
And swept more stones that broke like bones as they tumbled down the mountain
That wretched cursed mountain
He was on a ridge above the boys still laughin' with their dinner
They couldn't see for a line of trees hid their eyes from doom impending
All Hades was descending
I shouted up, "Joe grab the boys and ride to where I'm standing!"
But he couldn't hear me and my desperate plea was lost on that black mountain
That black and burning mountain
Then Ike first heard that sound not found this side of the river Styx
And he barely had time to shout the names of his saddle mates and home
"Home boys! Head for home!"
But there was no time to clear their mind and comprehend what's coming
For who could know what terrible blow upon them was descending
All Hades was descending
________________________________________
~Black angel grew up hard and fast in a crumbling city nest.
They lied when they explained why her daddy suddenly left-
Clipping one of her wings and tossed it into the trash.
Her mamma did well to soothe and put honey to bread
but quickly slipped back into yet another burning bed.
Step monster did all of those unspeakable things.
She couldn't fly as he crushed her remaining wing.
She escaped down the cold veins of the river Styx,
swirling in cool blue whorls called sins of the flesh.
Crowned the queen of cocaine and grand dame of meth.
Turning tricks born with dead beats and jesters came next.
Just like daddy she decided to put misery to an end.
At times death is the only way to escape a burning pen.
Nobody noticed when she coaxed death out of life.
Nobody offers sweetened words over a pauper's pyre.
The tiny cross in the shadows was named Jane Doe.
Nobody cried aloud when her curtain came crashing down.
On the last act of a black and blue angel horror show.