Long Sailing boat Poems
Long Sailing boat Poems. Below are the most popular long Sailing boat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sailing boat poems by poem length and keyword.
When I hear you say, “have patience,”
I want to tell you about the wheel and the mule -
when both stop, both die a little.
Then there are the sailing boat sails
when the wind stops.
Then there are marbles
when thrown they are lively,
kept in a jar – not so much.
Patience is some kind of virtue that religious people
rage about on Sundays.
I have noticed that they thump that biblical text
like they have zero patience.
I want passion, the way
a bad steak needs ‘A1’ or brown sauce.
Handles are also made
so folks like me can occasionally fly off them.
When the world began
not one molecule of life had one bit of patience,
and we are still figuring out
ways to press that accelerator harder.
Storm blows wild wind from horizon’s dark recess,
my old sailing boat in the turbulent sea tosses.
Fear says it will sink, I don’t believe, he is a liar.
The new sun will rise, the sea will wear calm attire.
Rain water rushes in the land from sky’s dark face,
my frail house struggles to stand in its place.
Fear says it will fall, I don’t believe, he is a liar.
The rains will stop, water won’t ruin my abode of desire.
Mutated minds threaten to cause menace feral,
frighten to throw me in the vortex of noxious peril.
Fear says I will be wrecked, I don’t believe, he is a liar.
I have reliance on human righteousness as pacifier.
Disabling disease strikes the painful mortal blow,
my body is scared feeling its vulnerability isn’t low.
Fear says I will meet my end, I don’t believe, he is a liar.
I have devout faith in God, He’ll save me from distress dire.
In times of depression the journey’s end seems near,
the light at the end of the dark tunnel is not clear.
Fear says I won’t see it ever, I don’t believe, he is a liar.
Abiding hope will kindle the candle of happiness I’ll acquire.
________________
January 22, 2023
Contest : Fear Is Liar
Sponsored by : Sotto Poet
Four years coming up nigh on,we plodding on strong
ploughing through each day together,not alot wrong
we know eachother, inside out,also our little ways
each and every moment, i want you in my day.
We both lead along our differant paths,my soul mate
until that day we met, was sheer utter fate.
Our lives are just begining,along a happier note
no flack no arguements, a plain old sailing boat.
I believe fate brought us together,from whatever mess
i know i`ll love you to the day i die, you create my happiness.
Your caring and happy nature,attracts all positive
the negative side you let it drain,forgetting like a sieve.
Here`s to the rest of our lives,not forgetting those above
so will end your little valentine script and wrap it up with love.
LOVE,PEACE AND HAPPINESS ***
When I hear you say, “have patience,”
I want to tell you about the wheel and the mule -
when both stop, both die a little.
Then there are the sailing boat sails
when the wind stops.
Then there are marbles
when thrown they are lively,
kept in a jar – not so much.
Patience is some kind of religious,
mature virtue that religious and mature people
rage about on Sundays.
I have noticed that they thump that biblical text
like they have zero patience.
Maybe it’s just me,
but I want passion, the way
a bad steak needs ‘A1’ sauce.
Handles are also made
so, folks like me can occasionally fly off them.
When the world began
not one molecule of life had one bit of patience,
and we are still figuring out
ways to press that accelerator harder.
Two demons escape their fate
From swimming in the fiery lake
They'd grown tired of the heated pool
Needing to dip their toes into something cool
So it was out of flesh and bone
They made for themselves a sailing boat
Without a word they bade hell leave
Sailing off to humanities sea
They sailed by and it's just as well
Dante's nine circles of hell
They found nothing funny along the way
But to Dante himself they both did wave
When their boat broke the surface
They both grew rather nervous
The first thing they saw was a fiery ball
Thinking they'd made a u-turn and were both back home
But the atmosphere was way to cool
The shrugging demons never knew
Not owning any winter gear
Not sure they were going to like it here
They headed out in search of some
Good old fashion satanic fun
When what happened to catch their demonic eyes
But the Sodom and Gomorrah of todays city life
They both felt at home, they fit right in
To the debauchery and rampant sin
The only difference with these human fools
Is not a one of them has a clue
All the while thinking they are free
Tied up tight onto Satan's leash
Paying the ever so heavy cost
Of a man who is...but doesn't know he's lost
The demons had seen all this before
That's why they got so easily bored
Yes, this they'd seen and done it all
So they placed a person to person call
The boys both had to really dance
When it comes to Satan there's no second chance
So after six hundred and sixty six days
They got back in their boat and sailed away
He wanted to go and catch scallops
gets into a boat called a shallops*
He didn’t look at the time
And had committed a crime
It’s into the court he now gallops
Five thousand pounds he’s now got to pay
A ‘timely’ error on the said day
This ‘scallop advisor’
Just should have been wiser
This fishy story won’t go away!
Poem based rather ironically on a TRUE story in the Manx press today
http://www.manxradio.com/news/isle-of-man-news/scallop-advisor-fined-for-illegal-fishing
*a little poetic licence about his boat but a Shallops is a sailing boat used for coastal fishing
15th January 2018
Floating in vacuum,
morphine intravenous supplied,
pain deadened,
she lies dormant, oblivious to all,
thoughts suppressed,
unfeeling and benumbed
in the emergency cubicle.
Her husband holds her hand,
icy, like winter at its worst.
She moans, eyes flutter,
only to fall asleep again.
Anesthetized she finds rest.
Monitors bleep to rhythm,
steady as she goes just like
a sailing boat on rough seas.
She will survive.
Husband bewildered.
A human vegetable?
Oh no the expert says.
She will be fine.
The husband dials a number,
talks softly not to disturb.
There will be no divorce,
it's best that they give up
and do not meet again.
The woman on the bed groans.
Is that a smile on her lips?
The sea can be an unforgiving environment, always expect the unexpected.
Quote by Poet.
I was five miles west of Plymouth Sound in my sailing boat
Nothing gives me more pleasure than being at sea afloat
I'd been practising my sailing and had just rounded the bay.
Getting myself prepared for an upcoming race in late May.
An urgent message came through that a storm was approaching
I fixed a course straight for home; a fierce storm I wasn't risking
The waves started rising and I reached down to secure the boom
A sudden gust caught it knocking me overboard, and I felt doom.
The cold water brought me to, and I felt the back of my head
There was a wide gash, and I saw that my palm had turned red
My boat had drifted out further and was about thirty feet away
I was at the mercy of the waves and couldn't send a mayday.
The back of my head was pounding and I was getting weaker
And the waves were getting higher and it was getting bleaker
A bird watcher on a cliff with a scope had seen me come to harm
And had quickly phoned the local coastguard to raise the alarm.
I was drifting in and out of consciousness and felt the end was near
All I could think about was my wife and family and those I hold dear
I felt very sleepy and a feeling of serenity came over me like a wave
I was getting weaker now and thought this cruel sea will be my grave.
I could hear the throb of an engine and could see lights flashing red
And right above me was a coastguard helicopter hovering overhead
A winchman lowered himself down and then grabbed hold of me
And around my waist put a harness and winched me up to safety.
I passed out with fatigue and when I came to, I was in a hospital bed
And for a minute I thought is this heaven and am I already dead ?
A week later I was discharged and I sought out those who'd rescued me
The coastguards and the bird watcher to thank them all personally.
I was sitting at home when a man from the coastguard phoned me
He said "I've got some good news, we’ve found your boat out at sea
There’s no sign of any damage and she was afloat and upright
And we’ve towed her into the harbour, so your future is looking bright”.
I spied a ship and descried the flag it flew.
It was nothing like the flags I had seen before.
It was red and blue, with white circles and yellow stars
The highlights of white and yellow stood out
like stars at night, and town lights bright.
The red like the color of the dawn and dusk.
The blue the color of the deep blue ocean.
It was clearly the flag of a sea faring nation.
As the ship got closer, you could clearly see its details.
It was a large primitive Polynesian outrigger voyager vessel,
a ghost ship as no one appeared to be aboard.
Where it had come from, the fate of its crew a mystery?
But the vessel sure knew how to sail
and knew where it was headed
as it sailed fast and free,
passed our sailing boat 'Snail'
on a true heading for a spot on the horizon.
For many years the Polynesian voyagers were decried as flotsam and jetsom.
How could these primitive people navigate through the vast open ocean
between tiny islands, pin-prick dotted in oceans of space?
It was assumed they migrated and populated the far flung oceans randomly and haphazardly
via their fishing trips and day trips being blown off course.
But research has descried their skill and fabulous knowledge of navigation.
Each island has a gild of navigators.
They use songs and stories to memorize navigation methods:
including the movement of the stars, wave patterns around island,
local currents, clouds, weather and bird behavior.
Polynesian navigators used the rise and setting of particular set stars on the horizon to set a heading.
They had wooden instruments, string and fiber maps of wave patterns and star movements to guide their way.
They skillfully know when they were near tiny islands
from the change in the wave patterns, currents
and their vast knowledge of birds and wildlife.
So don't be quick to decry Polynesian navigation.
Instead, descry its beauty, simplicity, nouse, proficiency and elegance.