Long Stranded Poems
Long Stranded Poems. Below are the most popular long Stranded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stranded poems by poem length and keyword.
Water, water, dear water, Mater Mare.
Where would I be without you, my wet, wet milieu?
Water is the medium that bathes my cells, my blood, my fluid within,
derived from the primordial ocean, aeons ago, still tasting of its salt.
I live bedside the sea, no other place would I, or could I be, born a Piscean.
For the ocean, river, lake, pond, drip and drop, even tiny pitter patter splats
sustains me in body and soul.
If I was dragged away from the sea, dripping wet, and I would die.
I willed my ashes to be tossed upon the sea when I pass away. From Water to Water, I be.
Daily I make my pilgrimage to walk along the beach and swim in the ocean waves.
To imbibe the meditative rhythm of the tides and surge of the waves,
to and fro, in and out, surging splashing on the shore around my body.
I walk along the strip of sand washed between tide in and out,
so that I leave no footprints to desecrate the beach shore, so perfect.
I love the wedding gown train crescents left
on the smooth glistening wet sand with each wave as it surges up the beach.
At night, I hear the sea shanties sung by waves lapping on the shore, moody and reflective.
I hear the sounds of waves whooshing and hissing, splashing and dashing,
surging up the shore and back.
This performance is so calming and charming to me and the bird flocks.
Unlike a forest or a park, every day the sea is different, never the same.
Yet like an old friend, forever familiar to seafarer me as the sea and shore.
The rhythm of the sound, and visual surge of images are my meditation,
I come daily to the shore to be refreshed, adorned and pray homage,
to 'Mater Mare', the mother and matrix,
and womb of all life, here, on Planet Water.
On a calm day you can hear
all the seashell choir stranded on the beach,
sighing sea shanties under their breath.
I am one of them, now and forever.
your eyes, black diamonds as dark and potent as your soul
your skin, the color of your sandstone mesas
your hair, a sacred silky, shiny, black mane
stranded with blue lapis, white shell, and red corral
Navajo princess with your big burning heart
full of Native sorrow
generation after generation
of poverty, degradation and shame,
opportunity stolen before your ancestors were born
your reservation a waste of stray dogs, alcoholism and dirty water
you
are the most beautiful woman I know
beauty far deeper than your warm terracotta skin
I fall into the abysmal depth of your eyes
into such strong medicine
that in conquering you, I am conquered like Custer's last stand
and lowered a realm or two
...a holy healing realm
or two
where I see
all that lies before and after
you
you are your beautiful people, you are your wasted land and all its shame
you are
your eyes
when I gaze into the glittering dark realm above
your eyes are all I see
"the brain is wider than the sky" said Emily *
but the windows of your soul
contain the whole multitude of universes
inhabited by every bit of joy and sorrow
dark-souled
Navajo
princess
you are more, more than all of them
so much more than this world
the drums are drumming a sacred beat
and Dancing Bear moves the spirit world
the bells your feet ring
and the feathers your limbs flutter
tell the greatest of the great spirits
about this hell on earth
make the sky listen, make the wind obey
make the way even
there is no time (and never was)
for anyone to escape these words
It falls and rises again
again and again and again
dark-souled
Navajo
princess
knows
Rembrandt was deliriously happy about the computer I brought.
He looked himself up and found things that he had long ago forgot.
Mary, my bestie, was peeking into my favorite Zig Ziglar book.
It is my turn! I told her. She argued “Just give me one more look.”
For lunch we had ham and beans with onions over cornbread.
Then we had iced tea. Mary pouted. She wanted coffee instead.
Cher’s Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves was playing on high.
This intrigued Rembrandt. He is a very musical guy!
We did a little dancing, then I took out “See You at the Top”.
I began to read it aloud, but Rembrandt asked me to stop.
I like reading a book for myself without all your inflections.
I was irritated by his bossiness. He did not win any affections.
Took the kids to the lake, today,
tempertures in the 30's,
sky cloudless and blue.
my sun tan oil, I took too.
Don't want to look, like
a lobster, it's not in fashion,
looking pale , is also out,
so have to go for a healthy tan,
and leave you in no doubt.
The water was murkey, but we
did not care,as long as it was
warm, we were happy there.
I did not swim too far out,
I have to see the shore,
feel the ground beneath my feet.
Any deeper, and I feel faint,
not the best way to be,
stranded in the sea.
The kids and I had a fun day out,
a good time was had by all,
only now a few hours later,
I am starting to burn,
the lobster look, is back in,
at least untill the morn,
when I hope the tan will come,
and I am not so sore.
Sitting here all alone
Getting lost in my head
Wandering off in the fields of your game
Soaked by the pouring rain of your lies
Burned by the pain spreading like a wild fire
Silent tears aflow speeding down to lakes
I am left stranded on the brink of drowning
alone
Lost in my dark world
Dwelling on the past
Letting anger boiling in my heart
My mind is on fire spitting harsh words
I am miles away from forgiving
Time speeds away and tomorrow becomes today
Still you are rewinded in my head
And time and again sitting in my own pool of tears
Never realized how much precious time had slipped away stealing a piece of me into damnation
I am hurt
I am broken
I am sad
And I am worn out
So today I am going to care for me
I am forgiving you to fade out of my mind
From this day on you are a memory of a well learned lesson
Today I am walking with my head up
and smile like I just received a box of Macadamia chocolate
I am free and I'm gonna love me more
Peace out...
Smile
Akkina R Downing
6-20-17
A strand of pearls not tied with knots;
we’re held together — just a thread.
At times like sticky spider silk
and other times a shred of string
that aches and breaks and throws our pearls across the floor.
The clatter scatter marble-mess
of all the dirt and hurts we pretty-wrapped.
Without the knots between the pearls, we
come undone. On hands and knees
we hunt and gather what’s to be restrung —
each dressed-up sphere once a naked tear
accumulated once again,
this time to tie ourselves and beads in line
to knot together “could-have should-have” shrugs
and form a diff’rent rope of pearls …or a noose
and in this space of rest — the screws between the pearls,
we plot a dream more fluff than faith before the cobweb breaks.
No doubt, we’re dilettantes in love bites art of making-up.
Knots may keep us stranded
but nots will keep us apart.
Nature speaks
Misty rain and thunder;
Elemental waves
~~~~~~~~~
Stormy weather
Freezing damp;
Igloo moments
~~~~~~~~~
Stranded here
No umbrella cover;
Long track home
~~~~~~~~~
Overcrowded shelter
Corridor passage chaos;
Torrential rain
~~~~~~~~~
Makeshift parasol
Box carton head dress;
Soaking wet
~~~~~~~~~
Bamboo pines exposed
Scenes from Oriental painting;
Rain invigorates
~~~~~~~~~~
A touching craft
Miniature book hand made;
Profound cuteness
~~~~~~~~~
Spring cleaning
Christmas cuckoo coming;
Alleluia blessings
~~~~~~~~~
Once again we hear
Old familiar carols sing;
Peace to all mankind
~~~~~~~~~
Leon a Enriquez
15 December 2014
Singapore
I was left on a island called lonely and despair.
Utter loneliness consumed my whole being.
No one could understand my state. I lived this
way for years and years.Until one day I met a
handsome stranger that understood me very well.
" Sir how do you know about such loneliness"?
" Mam I too live on the island of lonliness and
despair". "
" Where have you been all my life"?
"I come from a wealthy family and I took the
private jet and crashed here. I don't know
how long I've been here. I just remembered
who I was recently".
"Do you think your family is looking for you?
" They probally are but I don't know how long
I've been stranded here. What is today's date"?
"Feb 8, 2016".
" Oh my I left Dec 23, 2012. WoW! It's nearly four
years. How did you get here?
"I was born here. My family and the
rest of the village got ill. I don't understand why
I survived".
"That is such a heartbreaking story.I feel your pain.
But know this, from this day on you will never be
alone again".
I started to cry as if a dam had broken.
"Come lean on my shoulder while you cry.You are the
most beautiful creature I have ever seen.I came from
a place with money and I was still lonely. All of that
vanished the moment I laid eyes on you".As the tears
stopped and I looked in his has handsome face I
knew I would never be alone again.Our hearts and soul
were connected and our love will go on from this life to
the next. Love washed over me on that day and I was
complete.
Where far fails to name the distance,
I saw your tender glance
in the darkest hours of night.
Your flickering eyes.. ever so bright..
hung softly
in the quiet folds of nature’s canvas.
I remember those eyes that followed me,
flashing silent heartbeats of love,
then haunting me
amid the mourning whiteness of death.
When this land turns foreign to me,
I will cross the distance back
for you..
for the eyes I lost.
You will come with me, I am sure,
and together we will lean
from the edge of the night sky,
looking down at what we missed.
Then we will lend our light
to souls stranded
at the darkest crossroads..
brighten their faces, just a little,
if they search
for distant hope,
enough light for someone to keep going.
Oh now sad frog located on the sandy beach
Emotions raging around the body as an Icelandic volcano
burning holds in a vice grips deeply
Stranded in the cemetery of broken hearts
It is as if parts of the heart where torn out
shreaded from the body without an anesthesia
Deep arrow strikes in Golden Sunshine beams
Maybe he worries for no reason
Warm thoughts sail faraway yonder
An endless sandy beach, white as snow
washed with the blue ocean in brilliant yellow sunlight
Singing dreams kissing lips hold an oasis close
She drinks his kiss as if one could never get enough
In the hot summer sun burning heart yearns
It does not matter what it is
or where it leads them
as long as it creates an inner glow
Singing sizzles relighting loves croaking flames
Infatuation may be coming - but volatile
ignites when paper lips hold tears prisoner
Positively resonated does not appear out of the blue
Falling salt seasoned spice
Trail seeking light
This is a powerful and invigorating moment
Jumping angry to paradise
Shedding the green shirt of a Queen
She was cold, but the sun stroked her
soft and warm over the cheeks
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :) 26.06.2015
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