Long Salvage Poems
Long Salvage Poems. Below are the most popular long Salvage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Salvage poems by poem length and keyword.
The Atlantic was an ocean once unexplored,
even the Romans with their naval might, took no interest in conquering beyond;
so it remained an incognito in their minds:
perhaps its wrathful waves kept them away: they made very frightening sounds.
Columbus, the fearless and fair explorer, made frequent voyages...
he never encountered and fought a whale: it didn't impose a threat;
despite his first voyage was an horrific one, he didn't end his quest
to discover a vast and rich continent inhabited by the peaceful Indians.
If whales were scarce in this immense deep, they were more abundant off Nantacket,
as the Pacific Ocean swarmed with these monstrous mammals it didn't scare Moby Dick
by searching for the biggest white whale that was able to jar his ship and make it sink;
and he could only salvage: a pound of bread, fish, water besides and his treasure chest.
The Octopi Jars
by Michael R. Burch
Long-vacant eyes
now lodged in clear glass,
a-swim with pale arms
as delicate as angels'...
you are beyond all hope
of salvage now...
and yet I would pause,
no fear!,
to once touch
your arcane beaks...
I, more alien than you
to this imprismed world,
notice, most of all,
the scratches on the inside surfaces
of your hermetic cells...
and I remember documentaries
of albino Houdinis
slipping like wraiths
over the walls of shipboard aquariums,
slipping down decks'
brine-lubricated planks,
spilling jubilantly into the dark sea,
parachuting through clouds of pallid ammonia...
and I know now in life you were unlike me:
your imprisonment was never voluntary.
Originally published by Triplopia and The Poetic Musings of Sam Hudson. Keywords/Tags: Octopus, Octopi, Medusa, Sea Angel, Angel, Angels, Nature, Sea, Ocean, Aquarium, Aliens, Imprisonment, Prison, Boat, Ship, Ships, Shipwreck, Animal
a constanza
When justice suffers miscarriage,
and government’s way out of scope,
One judge stands firm - Jesus, our hope.
Christ speaks with clear, simple language.
In mercy and truth, without flaw,
“I have come to fulfill God’s law.”
One policy shapes His salvage.
His righteousness consists thereof –
His blood for our sin - perfect love.
In Him we gain right of passage,
but redemption wants repentance;
Christ’s mandate - complete allegiance.
Jesus, our stimulus package.
Stir us, Worthy Lamb who was slain
Desire of Nations, come and reign
the monorhymed stanza
When justice suffers miscarriage,
Christ speaks with clear, simple language.
One policy shapes His salvage.
In Him we gain right of passage,
Jesus, our stimulus package.
2
In a mire brewed
betwixt puddles of hell and mute dissent
a martyr wades -
weighed down by chains of shame and disdain
alas the thirsting self-absorbed swamp
distills and swills her stewed silence
and swallows the last embers
from her goblet of dreamer’s fire
pursed breaths are pickpocketed by the shallows
in a breathless vertical twist
an escapist is lost in the swirl of a chambered nautilus
distanced and deserted in the dance of descent
stillness belies the waterline’s greed
as a heroine’s salvage is suffocated -
the slick of self-appointed apathy anoints the surface
and a disquieted wind rises to bend the will of reeds
their flutes airing plainsong in forced supplication
yet carelessly cast away like spindrift from broken crests
while storm clouds blindfold wide-eyed skies
stifling any play of sun on water
Susan Ashley
May 1, 2020
~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 1
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: Spiral
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
I am not just a tree but a tree of many lives
I have watched and protected for many years
My trunk has become strong and thick like armor
I am a fierce but gentle, always standing guard
I am burdened with pain and suffering of the seasons
Of many storms, some with heartache and destruction
Lightning has destroyed some of my limbs and branches
But my soul remains strong and as deep as my roots
I provide homes for nature’s beautiful creatures
Birds still build nests on my limbs of branches
My leaves are like many fingers providing shelter
From the hot sun, the cold rain and frigid snow
My oak leaves protect and camouflage
Many needy creatures have lived for years
Safely thriving in homes, I provided selflessly
As well as standing tall and guarding your home
Someday I know that my limbs and trunk may crack
And rot may take over and destroy my strength, as I fall
I hope you will be kind and salvage a piece of my soul
As a table or chair that you will forever honor in your home
My heart is breaking in a million pieces.
Why did you have to shatter it to bits?
Were you just marking your time or
Are you actually willing to call it quits?
I feel like my flesh has been ripped
From my very bones, and all the while,
You are acting as if nothing has happened.
My face shows nothing, not even a smile.
My world is collapsing all around me,
And you sit over there uttering not a peep.
Am I supposed to forget all our years together?
Or this nonchalant facade must I upkeep?
Do you even hurt? Are you wounded?
Are you incapable of simply feeling?
You broke my walls down a long ago
And made me believe I was worthy of healing.
Now, I just want to scream and wail.
I want to rip my heart out of my chest
And give it to you to take on your way,
As you forget what has transgressed.
I knew there was something amiss,
Yet you let go and gave me your bombshell.
Your confession was not what I was expecting,
And once again I am in an agonizing hell!
Why so cool? Do I not matter?
Of love, are you even capable?
Am I such an awful wife, that
You made this agony inescapable?
I do not want to give up us,
I want to know what you disparage.
Are we over? Truly and utterly done?
Do you want to save and salvage this marriage?
© Kristy De La Keur Scoville
starmer phoned trudeau..lulas in the know' Trump
Sits on the throne.' some sad king might never? Own'
Putins not much imputing.' Look this is poker time.. I am
Not disputing.' Zelensky says things are not great.? I
Say 'but rhere's the 'chance of sabotage.?' There are pipe
Dreams..And he did say salvage mates.' Who knows who
Will what.? Specially if starmer brings in any sausage talk?
Yet may reality win.' People are dying..Amid crocodile tears
5 billon will by more bodies.?? Er I mean time.?? And whats
To fear?? As always put not trust in man.' Its mostly disaster..' and even more planned.' Can the strutting be stopped? Can a deal be made? When can 'ordinary people
Be allowed' some normality? Today.? When fat bankers can
Go to heaven i suppose.? Yet in hell they're so invested.'
Maybe its just how things go?
Have faith in your purpose
be bold in life
Close your eyes and open your mind
dare to see your heart's desire
Soar through the heavens
tread through the hells
Failure is but a bump
in the long and winding road of life
Truimph is your will, never surrender
Always keep fighting, salvage victory
And rejoice
Life is good after all
Be gracious and grateful
Kindness is a sign of strength
noble is the good heart
Humility is not dishonor
Pride is to be shared
Let faith be your torch
Let Justice be your guide
Let honor be your path
Let liberty be your destination
Let peace be your reward
Let wisdom be your victory
Let prosperity be your home
Dare to dream by dreaming to dare
Fear not for courage is the foundation of faith
Walk in the footsteps of giants
and behold...
They are the very footsteps you yourself bestowed.
I received a letter from death,
Upon the hour.
"May the world pity you,
For your days are numbered."
Shallow are my waters I swim in,
I cannot pass on now.
My time is yet to come,
Please, I have so much more to live for.
Can I not salvage these years,
For they are what all I have left.
I am no more than a melancholic man,
Left for dead on a barren avenue.
Death locked me within this cage,
Of prosecution,
Of damnation —
And of plague writhing my bones!
May the world pity me as I cry out for help.
My heart will weep all the night long.
There seems to be no sympathetic heart
That will notice my forlorn sadness.
Does the world no longer hone them,
The empaths who made it bearable to
Live in a heartless world,
Such as this?
Death knocked at my door and entered,
Where I laid prepared.
Upon arrival, she kissed me on my lips.
Cold were they, yearning for her.
May the toll of purgatory be brief,
For I cannot endure this;
Ceremony of judgement and punishment.
Wherever my soul be guided to,
I ask death to walk alongside my new body.
Guide me wherever her throne resides,
But before I take my crown and ring as husband,
I kiss the cold lips of death once more.
“The Watermark”
Black halos fall at my feet
like the Sun’s shadows kneeling
on beds of imperfect pearls in salvage prayer
scorching the past with its unspoken words
into a new day, the tattoos written sting
and you think,
you’re crazy
bare footsteps like poetry belong to a body of work naked
pretending to walk water along the white Capricorn sand,
no man is an island reading the Sky like it is the lover horizon,
dipping into the shallows reading their rippling waves
all breaking like prisoners escaping their water-mark tears
no lifeguards,
follow here
five fingers
five toes, alone -
gone tropic speaking to the magnetic undertow
pulling you further and further in
the heart is a pounding Ocean, every day calling
with its shining kintsugi grin,
“leave the shore
venture further out
venture further in”
shadowy selki
like a black halo falling
escaping the daft confinement
of a mad mortal world
into the baptismal brine of eternal dreams
pulls in the horizon like a lover,
sheds their skin
CandideDiderot. ‘25