Long Sand Poems

Long Sand Poems. Below are the most popular long Sand by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sand poems by poem length and keyword.


Illusion

And this picture on the wall of my heart told a story of men giving birth  among themselves in the north promiscuously...
Sipping memories from the lungs of the  girl child. 
They were not ashamed of the little ones watching their nakedness which howled at them mannerlessly. 
We bathed the oceans again and again,
We made the sand shone like the moon,
We washed the sky daily to see clearly of what the earth has in stock for us. 
We painted the earth and added more colours to the chirping rainbow. 
Life became wet in our palms because we saw images and figurines of women  whose shinning womb were made abnormal  by men of yesterday. 


And mother told of an innocent girl that killed her father, mother and brothers, 
She was patted by the king for doing so, 
As she told this ear breaking tale,
we saw the rain emerged from the ground instead of the lonely idle cloud that watched us through different mirrors. 
They said we'll live forever on paradise, 
They said there is heaven and hell, 
They said evil people will be punished on the last day, 
They said we will burn for thousand years, 
But how could a father punish his children with fire and brimstone?
How could spirit burn in a fire? 
How could we tell lie to ourselves and expect the sun not against us? 
We have seen cock making love to a duck and, dog to a cat, and grandma told us it was normal. 


And Father told of the miseries of  the black spirit in our village streams, 
How pouring of libation on the family shrine brings good wife and good harvest, 
how rubbing oil and wearing palmfrond on your lips wad away demons.
he said there is a third heaven above us, 
He told us why the He goat smells, 
He said white ghosts do fly day time; he has seen the flashes of one of them at Benin. 
After Christopher, I creed, 
After Achebe I loved again
After Seghor
After Wole and Niyi' folklores,
After Habila Helon,
After Chimamanda's truths, 
We'll retrace this fables with a knitted thought towards strings of our voices. 
How does the patient dog eat the fattest bone now? 
Does the silent cock still live for a lifetime? 


Mother lied to us
Father lied to us
Grandma lied to us
Grandpa lied also
A mirage formed
Teachers lied to us
An illusion created 
We are not who we are through those illusion told to us through their lips. 


Yours Poetically,  
©John Chizoba Vincent.


Premium Member Ballad of An Unsung Hero

Vivid flashbacks from bloodshed battles
his soul still ravaged by devious dictators,
cries from fallen comrades still echo in his mind,
but he continues to walk upon a path of pandemonium. 

Reluctantly he ventures forward with
vengeance portrayed through embers
engulfed within his frenzied eyes -
reflecting his mother's irreversible tears.

He is no mercenary nor a moneymaker,
just a repentant drifter, preparing for bedlam.

His purpose in sight, he closes his eyes, 
but struggles to erase his thoughts,
as the sins of his ancestry inflict his mind.

Angels attempt to light his path with harmonic chords,
but demons cause havoc strumming broken strings.

Entering the kingdom of dry fountains,
where God has no influence,
he is afraid to inhale its corrupt pollutant air.

Charcoal clouds rumble, 
before horizons shed unwelcome tears.

Before him platinum priests preach, 
as court jesters dance with sly grins,
hiding metaphorical daggers behind their backs.

To his right overfull hospitals have no beds,
as penniless patients plead to be cured.
To his left the self proclaimed vain king 
sits on his cardboard throne,
throwing dollars into a blazing fire place.
To his side his tyrannical hypocritical queen
hides behind her simulated smile,
oblivious to her narcissistic prince's incest desires
towards her clueless imbecilic princess.

It's an endless loop of greed cultivating corrupt seed,
which continues to breed nefarious creed.

Miserable masses attempt to break free,
but their liberation is dissected by cretinous henchmen. 

In the marketplace of Machiavellian thieves,
merchant pawns auction fragmented dreams.
 Sold to the biggest idiot!

His eyes full of disbelief, now rage with anarchy!
Intoxicated knights raise their half empty glasses,
as he calmly walks into this man made sand castle.

Gifts the cunning conniving cook some cyanide,
which he empties into his delectable broth.
Both watch as the elevated ones savour it like dogs,
perishing dramatically to their deserved downfall.

Beyond his childhood playground,
now with rusty swings and slides,
he places a crimson rose upon his mother's grave,
kissing her untouched headstone.

Expressionless he walks into the distance,
as storms wash away weak foundations.

Silent One
25 July 2018
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ballad

Kneeling In Regret

A song written by KAP and I ^_^

I kneel down upon the rocks, all else left unknown
I’m kneeling in regret and I’m falling through the sky
No place to go, except to roam home alone
I’m kneeling in regret, thinking my soul’s colors on high

I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down
I’m going down in regret
I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down
I’m sorry I got you upset
It’s in your eyes, shown
By the light of the moon
It’s beneath the lies, overflown
By my tearful, regretful tune

I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down
I’m going down
Lift up that frown
I’m losing it
I’m losing it
I’m losing it
Losing it
Losing it
Losing it
Losing control somehow
I’m living in the now
I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down in regret
Now, I rise up, tearless for tomorrow
I rise up from the solemn sorrow
I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down
Now, I rise up
I go up instead
Of yielding onto your dread
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on
Before the dawn
Before the dawn
Before the dawn,
We kneel down in regret
Only to rise up from negativity’s net

I kneel down upon the sand, all else left behind, left behind
I’m stealing away fret and replacing it with gladness I can’t deny
I have a sacred place of solace to spiral down in in my mind
I’m feeling away the regretful dread and choose to simply fly

I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down
I’m going down in regret
I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down
I’m sorry I got you upset
It’s in your eyes, shown
By the light of the moon
It’s beneath the lies, overflown
By my tearful, regretful tune

I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down
I’m going down
Lift up that frown
I’m losing it
I’m losing it
I’m losing it
Losing it
Losing it
Losing it
Losing control somehow
I’m living in the now
I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down in regret
Now, I rise up, tearless for tomorrow
I rise up from the solemn sorrow
I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down
Now, I rise up
I go up instead
Of yielding onto your dread
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on
Before the dawn
Before the dawn
Before the dawn,
We kneel down in regret
Only to rise up from negativity’s net

I kneel down
I kneel down
I kneel down
Only to rise up
So, get yourself off the ground
Get yourself out of the dumps because you’re bound
To kneel down
Kneel down
Kneel down
Only to kneel above
Kneel above
Kneel above
Form: Lyric

Beyond Logic Another Reality

Through the piercing silence of the night
Echoes the soul grasping sound
Of the ethereal howling of a pack of wolves
Their song is carried across the air
Over the tree tops to a place of forever

The full moon glows an aura of wonderment
Wolves wail to this celestial body in honor of it
Metaphorically, they are attempting to connect
With ideas that lie dormant in the subconscious
Just below the surface

Like undisturbed stones that nestle comfortably
In the sand upon the apex of a smooth flowing river
Always there but obstructed from view
What secrets reside within us
Waiting to be discovered? 
For it is in sleep the unconscious whispers to us, 
Shall we lie quietly and listen? 

If you don’t cross the bridge
You will never know what’s on the other side
So, if we were not meant to eat
There would be no hunger
Therefore the subconscious must serve a purpose
Who says that logic is the only reality? 





I have awakened, to feast my eyes
Upon a gigantic sphinx
Silently it observes me and smirks
A sly, cunning smile masking
Its many mysteries and knowledge
What secrets will be revealed
To me on this night if I listen? 

A vast bonfire blazes, and as it cackles
The flames reach above to the star filled sky
Surrounded by spectators, I see a fox, and a coyote
As a glimmering golden hawk accompanied by
A mystical red phoenix encircle the sight, uttering
Words of wisdom, which spread over the ocean of
Canyons creating an echo in which the mountains
Respond in unison, surely there is a message here

Each brilliant star suddenly transposes itself into lines
Of letters, I gaze in awe at the wondrous words
Glittering like silver beads stretching the expanse of
The universe, all unfamiliar, yet tantalizing, languages
From ages ago, no longer spoken, however readily co-existing
Along side modern speech and thought, what may I learn
If I were to study these ancient gems of communication? 

Therefore, 
I am ready to fly with the essence of the night
Begin a quest into another realm
Of human awareness
Seeking out words and ideas
To bring back




For it is here that thoughts originate
A journey into the other side of myself
Where logic has no relevance
And imagination has no limitations
As the pirate who prepares to unearth
A buried treasure

Okay kill the lights
Close your eyes
Prepare for take-off
© Mark Lee  Create an image from this poem.

Welcome To the World of This Certain King

"Bring Me Wine,Myrrh and My Sweetheart Daughter Anabella,
My Little Anabella Loves To Listen To The Voice Of Salome,Her Lyre and Her 
Happy Serenade..
Tell My Scribes To Be Fast About Compiling The Exploits Of Their King In His 
Last Battle Campaign..What Is a King Without An Updated Chronicle..
Send In My Little Prince For His Voice As He Reads Through His Texts Of 
Poetry..Lures The King His Father To a Closer Salient Walk With The gods..
Tell The War Generals To Give Me A detailed Brief of Our Next Campaign.."

At Morn..
"Send In The Finest Of Thy Young Warriors..So I can Test My Stealth In The Very 
Face Of Battle and Danger...
What Have Young Men Turned Themselves into..So Lazy,Wanton and Unmanly..
Off My Sight Before I Seek Thy Skulls This Very Instant..
(In Privacy With The Head Warrior)..Oh! Sarskaas Your Young Boys Are one of the 
Best in The Region My Training Sessions Are Truelly Refreshing..Tell this not to 
them Lest you build the Fruits of Pride and Treachery in their Young Minds..
Do Usher in My Seductive Belles to Show Off Their Waists in Acts of 
Poetry,Dance and Linguistic Body Embellishments..."

At Noon..
"You The Dreaded Most Notorious KING Of the Valley..A Demi god,Invincible and 
Indestructible..As I Speak Kiss The Sole Of My Feet and eat this dish of Camel 
Dung mixed with fine desert sand..
Ax-Man when he finishes his dessert Bring me his Head on My 'Royal Golden 
Skull-Dish'..
Usher in the Wise Men of the South..For I want to converse with them in this 
same spirit of Saliency..
Stuff the roast Calf portions with a lot of herbs and Spices..You well know its the 
Obsession of the Men from The south.."

At Sundown..
"Usher in the different contingents of Musicians to Entertain my Salient Guests...
Wrap My 'Lotus Fumes' Quickly so I can Smoke this Life's Troubles Aways..And 
See Through the One Eye of the gods in Solemnity and Blissful Thinkings,
Head Eunuch Do Send A Servant to The Harem..He Should Tell My Queens to 
get A-Ready For Their Lord is in Good Shape for Royal Rumbles and More..
Oh! My Faithful Knights your War plans were excellent..Go Now Enjoy and Excite 
your souls as much..Retain your honour and have the War at the Back Of your 
Minds..
Depart In Peace..Many A-Waists in The Harem are Restless.. 
I go in to Satisfy My Very Own.."
Welcome Again To The World Of That Certain King..
Form: Ballad


The Morning Soars With Skylarks Singing Repost

The morning soars with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.

The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.

The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds,
loud, and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.

A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow.
Form: Verse

Him Too, Or the Drowning Femenist, Part I

Dylan Carston was a well-off young man,
thanks to a large and health trust fund,
his father was a true Wall Street ace
and had been quite generous to his sons.

Dylan had set himself up in Miami
after years spent getting his MBA,
he did consulting four days every week,
the other three he did like to play.

He’d partied with friends at all the bars,
and had his share of hot one-night stands,
not yet had he thought of a wife and kids,
he was enjoying the life of a young man.

One Saturday as he walked down the beach
to get exercise and breath the sea air,
he stumbled upon a frantic woman
calling for him to go over there.

As he drew near he saw down in the sand
a young woman who’s face had gone blue,
he could see no lifeguard near where they were,
but fortunately he knew what to do.

He found no pulse when he listened close,
and placed two hands high on her left breast,
with hard compression he began CPR,
pumping furiously at her chest.

Every so often he placed his mouth on hers
and forced oxygen deep into her lungs,
the other woman ran off to find more help
while Dylan continued the rhythmic pump.

Finally after three desperate minutes
a gurgled rasp echoed up from her throat,
life returned to her, the blue fading out,
though her eyes still knew not where to go.

Moments later he heard the rush of feat,
the lifeguard and the woman had returned,
Dylan gestured to where the girl lay,
“I brought her back, now I think it’s your turn.”

The lifeguard thanked him for taking action,
then knelt down slowly at the victim’s side,
ambulances came, reports were fill out,
when Dylan left three hours had gone by.

He felt good about saving the woman’s life,
it was a moment he would not forget,
congratulations came in, on top of that
the lifeguards sent him a certificate.

Three weeks went by and Dylan returned to
the safe routines of the everyday world,
and bit by bit his thoughts turned away
from the near death of that helpless girl.

So it was with a great deal of surprise
when a process server told him these words:
“Dylan Carston, you’re being sued for assault,
you can consider yourself dully served.”

Dylan’s mind whirled at the accusation,
he had no idea how this could be true?
Had some ex regretted their time and cried ‘rape,’
were they evil enough to go down that route?

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative

The Tiger General

The Tiger General
Hobbes

The Tiger general strode onto the field of battle,
Tail flowing eloquently as he walked.
And then he turned to his men and began to speak,
They fell instantly silent as he talked.

The general led his men with a strong presence and iron resolve,
They fell into line at a quick command.
When they marched he always took the head,
And lead his men across the fields of sand.

His men followed him with love, respect and admiration.
His feats were the stuff that make up great tales.
Each fur who followed him took every order to a tee.
And when it comes to plans he never fails.

The tiger knew this battle was different then the last,
He felt the tides turn on the winds of change.
He knew that something horrible was about to happen.
He didn't know about the scope or range.

It was in the thick of the combat that he found it out,
and his face changed to one of hidden pain.
But he never showed his men a shred of doubt,
And each passing feeling he would detain.

He started loosing men at an alarming rate,
And he drew his blade and rallied the boys.
But the enemy had an advantage so large,
It made the master steel look like toys.

The guns were blaring left and right as the tiger stood his ground,
Never surrender he yelled to his men.
And nobody saw that he had shed a few tears
For brothers he would never see again.

The general never backed down and stood his ground,
He screamed that he would fight ''til his last breath.
And he fought with burning desire and passion,
He brought many a Soldier to their death.

And when it came time the tiger knew a showdown would occur,
As the two leader met amidst the fight.
The wolf opposite him unsheathed his own katana,
A true battle that would be quite a sight.

Each great leader was gifted with amazing skill,
They fought each other with tremendous guile.
And the further they got the more the tiger thought,
Soon enough the wolf will show his true style.

The battle went back and forth in a clash of sparks,
And then the wolf took out the tigers feet.
The cheater finally showed his true stripes and colours,
And brought the tiger general to defeat.

The tiger general's men rallied on to win the battle,
And even through death he drove them forward.
His men will always remember him as a friend and a brother,
And a man who truly lived by the sword.
Form: Epic

The Morn's Alive With Skylarks Singing

The morn's alive with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.

The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.

The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds loud, 
and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.

A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow!
Form: Verse

Premium Member The Glitter of Life

This is being newly dedicated to my Aunt Jane who reminded me to keep shining God’s light brightly.

THE GLITTER OF LIFE

A tiny sparkle of hope
Hidden within the gloom
We only see muddy water
Occupying all of our room

There is a pretty flower
Beneath those tall weeds
Buried far out of sight
We look not that deep

We seek bad news
So eagerly caught
We forget good news
Should be what is sought

Let us take a quick peek
Of the descriptionalization
It is what life is all about
To reach full realization

The hovering dark cloud
Brings depression and woe
Feeling trapped in sadness
Pulling with an evil tow

You become a hard rock
Or it seems like one of them
Now the trials before you only
Sand and polish you to a gem

Your eye catches a twinkle
To tap your vision per say
It travels far within to spark
Happy thoughts your way

Those clouds of gloom
Cover up the shiny light
The glitter inside of you
That wants to shine bright

All those weeds can hide you
Even from your very own face
So it is time to pull those weeds
To clear the area of your space

A crushed spirit as written
Will only dry up the bones
Whereas is your joyful heart
A good medicine to own

Our strength is from within
The joy of the Lord in each one
Our individual glitter of life
To shine with strong emotion

When you do shine your light
To see your pathway grounds
The glitter of life will be seen
That most abundantly surrounds

There will be a glow of beauty
Like nature covered in sequins
The flowers bursting through
Even the tallest weeds of grim

You will see the difference
You will finally get the hint
Even if you only shine a bit
With a brief flashing glint

To shine your light is simple
Though it seems hard to do
Hum a merry tune, or whistle
Even a smile changes attitudes

Clear the air with a breeze of hope
Thus letting the light inside glisten
A new wind of change on a good note
Chiming a beautiful tune – just listen

Lean not on our own understandings
To form opinions of what appears to seem
It is the faith within that holds the victory
To overcome the world and conquer our dreams

We are all sprinkles of the glitter of life
Scattered through dark clouds of gloom
Fighting our way through evil and such
Brightening the path for happiness to bloom

Florence McMillian (Flo)
Form: Narrative

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