Long Shipboard Poems

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


Warehouse 317

320 has a great bunch working there
They show a lot pride they really care
I personally don't consider any of this work, to me it's all fun
Sweat already pouring from the Warehouse heat and the morning sun
Daine and Nathaniel welcome to a great team
We cover one another on tasks in Warehouse 317
We have the mother of all mothers coming our way soon
Enough fun coming to make you wanna bark at the moon
I am looking forward to the thirty thousand guests 
So let's wipe the sweat from our brows and make it look effortless
Monique is going to miss out on this great adventure, Zena is now the one caught in between
Local Purchase stop pulling your hair out, what a great place called Warehouse 317
There is Hezakiah handling the turn ins
He has to be careful and watch the NSN's
Glen handles the Turretts and parts to the shops
Without Wonda and Michael, the production stops
Gabrielle is the Goddess of the Hazmat
Shipping is now on cruise control with Doug there, but we all wear so many different hats
Jerry is the main director of this sometimes circus scene
Under our wonderful big top at Warehouse 317
A manager is only as good as her or his people allow them to be
I am thankful for all who I work with and my extended family 
I love where I work and I am so happy to come there every day
All this fun and very good pay
DRMO is handled by Elsa and Fred
This is where all the useless parts are sent
The Carpenter Shop has Jason
That is where they do the packaging and craten'
Tom runs the show at Container Ops
David is in charge of the Turrett Shop
The mechanics have the vehicles coming in and going out at a tremendous rate
The Shop Clerks keep the ordering and parts requirements up to date
Vehicles to be shipped, Motor Pool is on the scene
But it all starts at my favorite place, Warehouse 317
I am sorry if I missed anyone such as Tammy at Safety, or Miss Lilly at PBO
Overall the operations are under the direction of Rick and Joe
The Front Office Personnel answer the phone
Without them, there would be nobody home
The shipboard stuff handled by Wholesale
Shop's parts handled by Retail
I personally want to thank everyone for all they do
This place could not do what it does without me or you
So I am not trying to be rude or mean
But I must end the saga now, come visit us at Warehouse 317
Form: Ballad


Two Greatest Commandments

37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” NIV.

Two Great Commandments

We must praise God with our total being;
With newfound faith in Him are believing;
Yourself forget;
In neighbors let;
Help those in need who will be grieving.

Jim Horn

St. James Episcopal Church
Shallotte, NC

lord 127 End Rhymes
One-syllable rhymes
board
bored
chord
cord
cored
cured
fiord
fjord
floored
ford
gored
gourd
gourde
hoard
hord
horde
lord
moored
oared
pored
poured
roared
scored
shored
snored
soared
stored
sword
toured
ward
warred
whored
 
 
 
Two-syllable rhymes
abhorred
aboard
accord
adored
afford
award
backboard
baseboard
billboard
blackboard
breadboard
broadsword
buckboard
cardboard
chalkboard
chessboard
chipboard
clipboard
concord
contoured
corkboard
dashboard
deplored
discord
duckboard
explored
floorboard
footboard
freeboard
hardboard

headboard
highboard
ignored
implored
inboard
keyboard
landlord
lapboard
moldboard
outboard
outscored
pasteboard
pegboard
prescored
rancored
record
restored
reward
scoreboard
seaboard
shipboard
sideboard
signboard
skateboard
slumlord
soundboard
springboard
surfboard
switchboard
tagboard
toward
uncured
wallboard
warlord
washboard
whipcord
 
 
 
 
Three-syllable rhymes
aboveboard
centerboard
checkerboard
clavichord
coinsured
fiberboard
fingerboard
harpsichord
mortarboard
notochord
overboard
overlord
paperboard
pinafored
plasterboard
pompadoured
prerecord
reassured
shuffleboard
smorgasbord
stevedored
underscored
unexplored
unrestored
untoward
weatherboard
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Limerick

Sinking of Titanic

The Titanic the luxury steamship

Fabulously built and true legend

On her maiden joyous voyage

Crossing the North Atlantic ocean

From the port of Southampton, England

to the new world and New York city

Fate suddenly struck with drama

At the dawn of a new century

In a moonless dark night

In early April 14, 1912

Tragedy visited in bold letters

There were many icebergs around

The ship collided with a hidden one

The captain realized what had happened

There were calls for quick evacuation

Women and children were first to leave 

The water was dark, chilly and icy

There were few lifeboats for rescue

The passengers were in total panic

Many jumped off the shipboard

to their doom and drowned

Others from hypothermia soon died

Calls for ships in the close area

Please come in hurry and help

Telegraphic signals were sent

The Titanic sank in few hours

A tragic page of history unfolded

More than 1500 lives sadly perished

The first ship came to rescue

more than two hours too late

The frightened passengers on lifeboats

were pulled up and luckily saved

The raging waters beneath

showed no mercy or care

Across the other side of the ocean

At New York city port

friends and relatives

all were anxiously waiting

The sinking of the Titanic

news soon reached them

Each praying their loved ones

have been miraculously rescued

The Titanic tragic sinking

still remembered to our days

Titanic stories are recounted

Books written and movies made

Premium Member Sarah Perfect Pirate Princess

Sarah perfect pirate Princess
Welcome to your shipboard home
Papa pirate holds and keeps you
Safely through the tidal foam

Mama pirate loves you dearly
But she died while giving birth
Flying fish are sent to greet you
Welcoming your time on Earth

Sarah, Princess, like your mother
Hair of gold and smooth as silk
All I have is love to give you
And this cup of Billy’s milk

You have plundered something in me
When you came and stole my heart
Gentle Princess, you’re my treasure
Only you can play that part

Sarah, Princess, dawn is rising 
Dolphins ring our pirate ship
Whales rising in the wonder
Milky bubbles on your lip

All my mates are gathered ‘round us
Speaking words like coochy-coo
Never having seen a princess
Everyone’s in love with you

Sarah, Princess, tiny angel
Present of the brightest star
May thy fortune of forever
Safely keep you where you are

Though the land may call and tempt you
And each port may call your name
Don’t forget the ones who love you
As you navigate your fame

Sarah, Princess, pirate’s fortune
Is the purpose of our strife
You don’t need to seek your portion
Just to seek a better life

Precious baby, soft and sweetly
Beckoning with upturned eyes
You’re the glow of life within me
You’re the gift of my surprise

Sarah, Princess, Neptune’s daughter
Darling of the salty sea
May you learn to love the water
As you rule in majesty

When my sight is growing dimmer
And my sword is cast aside
Sarah, darling, my sweet Princess
May thy love for me abide!
Form: Rhyme

Murders in Mumford Part 1

A love twisted in a high school romance,
Both fixated on puppy dog eyes,
Skipping classes followed by lies,
Predictions to never be seperated,
Only as much as parents tolerated,
They would run if given the chance,

Upon a mellow river rusted a louring mill,
Dim lit repairs by a scarecrow of a man,
Alongside the river it was a small span,
As skeletal hands of the mill snag floating logs,
Rising sun now pierces mountain fogs,
A cold chill replaced by warmth that begins to fill,

Brackish waters breed fish teeming angling,
A plaid retiree toats an unknowing burden,
For upon the rocks a body rolled in curtain,
Fumbling hands dial the sheriff's office,
Resulting in a stomach turned nauseous,
Thoughts race from torture to strangling,

Students murmor rumors over empty chairs,
As sherriff pulls students for questioning,
While a plea for help at a parent's beckoning,
Cries heard aloud through echoing halls,
Answers from questions expose a plethora of flaws,
Tensions tighten because this small town cares,

Foghorns sound as headlights cross beams,
Moonlit mist hides a livid discord,
Only witness, a fisherman shipboard,
Rocks shuffle around steadfast feet,
Argument ends in the shore's peat,
Unwanted blood spills ending young dreams,

Narrow light leaves a lifeless body luminous,
Examiner removes an entombed clue,
Beneath a fingernail a piece of paper folded in two,
Unfolded the bloodied paper reveals vastly,
An agent must be summoned lastly,
For murders like this may be numerous.
Form: Ballad


Premium Member A Shipboard Romance

A man and woman on either side of a fence
For long strangers, once met by sheer chance
A spark of love was lit in an instance
Its flame was fanned through many a glance
And eventually got blazed into a hot romance
Until it was steadied through an alliance
Days and months flowed smooth in passionate romance
As man and wife they decided to live in perfect compliance

They often felt their minds go upbeat in a dance
Life breathed out a rare and sweet fragrance
And their faces always gleamed in bright radiance
They flitted like butterflies across life’s expanse
Over calm waters, they glided like a pair of swans
Around their future, they braided umpteen plans
There was always a spark of glitter in their glance
Never once they suspected any mischance

After a year, their love was tested through penance
Days slouched on without any parlance,
Until their life was couched in dumb silence.
In secret, they nursed many a grievance,
And saw each other with a vengeance.
This often took a turn of violence
From this bondage, they longed for riddance
And through a divorce, finally sought a deliverance!
( to be continued)

Sept.23.2022

Chapter. 1. Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Matt Caliri
Form: Narrative

Hairs Been Shorn

Here looking inwards while sitting in wards.
Never bored watching bulletins and staring out the window at the billboards with eyes that's been pulled before and my thoughts still talk forth.
Still taunted and real torn. My brain is torn. My clothes are worn and I'm worn out like the clothes I've worn since I've been in mourn. 
If my secrets airborne are my thoughts seabourn and if so are they off a shipboard. Well formed traumas bounce like a springboard.
I got to reform from this clipboard message. I'm switchboard pressing like crowns with real thorns because I'm crazy with the devils big horns eating grilled corn with allies in this place where bloods borne 
Was I still born from a rebirth but stillborn. 
This stillwater ain't sating my thirst I will burn up until dawn because the sealed doors stay locked and we're locked in like ill thoughts. During storms and full moons my milk pours on the brick floor surface I'm sick and tick bourne and allergic. Staring in the mirror watch the devil rip his horns and dig out big thorns man I'm thirsty and been scorned. A little walk is all what I'd kill for. The risk warns you till morn so spill your guts and tell more to the billboard.
Form: Rhyme

The Cherry Tree

To crown the foil of window's questioning disclosure
and an afterthought—the ready sweep of old terrain
that would not seek completing, only slept
in still reflection of the passing hooves
returning from the wars, the lesser footfall
of the deer to gain the forest just beyond,
the baking of the sun...the years deluding...

This was only heritage, encapsulating ghosts,
but yet prepared to raise a living monument,
a friend to feast the eye, the body,
so contain each memory
within a morsel's succulence
as its own sacrament, bright red
and clinging to a disappearing past.

Then with a triple grace, the tree ascended,
fashioned from the vision
of a mind that saw the little slope
reborn as one observing, reaches back
into his heritage, illumining the trail
with purest loveliness pursued,
and finally in death, its richest wood
as offering to frame the instruments of art.

The thought is framed as is the view
outside the cabin window...longed for
even as fulfillment of an old desire.
Its fruit is of the years embedded
in the transcience of a hope
forseen on shipboard long ago.
Step across the time with me
and seek the cherry tree.
                       ~

The Octopi Jars

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

Stretched Time

Stretched Time 

Twenty years! TWENT YEARS! I have lived in this tiny hamlet 
a lifetime…for some. Maybe I have been here hundred years
and the time before I came is shrouded in a mythical dream.
Deep oceans of pasts that wash up on the strand of illusion
and must therefore be reinvented. 
On top of a hill I can see the ocean…and yes it has sunlight on 
and glitters just like a postcard or a holiday brochure.  
 Vaguely remember, didn’t I used to be a seafarer who spent
too much time alone, in a blue cabin, reading too many books
 about intrepid travelers so I could forget my own voyage?
I wonder if Nelson Mandela remembers he once was president,
or does he dimly remember it as a youthful dream?
My dream was to be a cowboy not a shipboard cook cleaning
pots and pans and endless, the Irish stew, bacon and meatballs.  
Twenty years, yes it has been a long time, a lifetime…for some.

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