Long Striken Poems
Long Striken Poems. Below are the most popular long Striken by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Striken poems by poem length and keyword.
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
against the western wind; he will certainly mourn Piraeus,
and with sorrow-striken eyes, he'll invoke Poseidon.
Then he'll depart carrying the long hunting horn.
The small vessel will hold out and he won't fear waves,
but he laughs at Ares--who despises all kinds of irony.
Occasional gusts soothe the skin on his noble face,
unwrinkled and unrugged. Spring water should
quench his dry tongue; it's too warm and tasteless.
Stored in a huge amphora which depicts faces
of gods and warriors engaged in warfare,
it has the same warmth of the sweat that drips
from his hot forehead that has turned red.
Ahead, wisps of fog arise--an imagery whale.
Beyond there are perils and certain delights;
thoughts of danger will perturb him, thoughts
of discovery will enthrall him. He will be experiencing
them on his voyage--what he desires is smooth sailing.
He has heard of sirens and cyclops,
of fertile valleys and fields of yellow wheat;
of buffalos that roam, of goats and sheep that bleat.
How amazed he will be to find rocks
to build the New City*on that pristine shore--
he will declare his Queen sitting in the marble throne!
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
to escape Achille's curse; he refuses to hide in the wooden horse,
he will never return to Greece. Athens and Sparta will not fight
with swords and arrows; their grand plan is to win war by deceit.
Cleverness will defeat the Trojans. Only Helena foresees the worse;
they don't heed her words--Troy will fall to the enemy.
* The New City: Neapolis ( Naples ).
What would the world be like
If those on top of living
learn to look down and see the life of others ,
who's struggles and throes to survive for existing,
And learn to stand in one good stead
to share their winnings-
in life to them was given.
How greatful all affluent
will help the poverty-striken;
In any ways they know,
as long as its from the heart that sharing.
And so it seems to me,
their would be less down-and-out that yearning.
When a crackerjack bear a hand to those amatuer,
who is much scrabble ;
And through such effort ,
all things will be apprehend with flying colors;
That even in education
when a slow-witted student befriend with sharp-witted one;
Then would teach an amigo the lessons taken
to pass an exam.
What if a beauty queen is with an uppealing girl,
That instead of envy for physique to feel,
love the uniqueness,
for beauty comes from within.
These are just few,
of much to tell situations
of helping, of sharing, of feeling the true empathy,
That these who give hand-holding
are heaven's sent;
To make the world such a wonderful of living.
heart snapped off hearing the news of my friend's unforeseen scarring mishap
Disclaimer: This unpredicted incident happened in the year 2009 when I was in 9th grade.My friend Vivek met with frightening tragedy while he was riding bike along with his cousin sitting behind.Unfortunately,
his brother died on spot and my friend was mercifully rescued.Attaining deep injuries was in a state of coma.
A major shock to his family and us(classmates and teachers).Striken by grief we held him in our faith & prayers every single day for his progress & arrival.
In a month or two we heard he was normal but had required rest for few months.
We were all excited to meet him once he came back to school though felt bitter looking at his scars everyday. Now he is perfectly all right and blissful young man.
Recalling his mishap evokes trembling tears in my eyes even today..!!
9-3-2020
Note:My most unforgettable moment in my High school Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by JCB Burl.
The murky rolling waves subject
to the whims of the February's wind,
far above the secluded lighthouse;
the roaming aircrafts vanish through thick clouds,
leaving behind a trail of hazardous vapors...
but the geese and seagulls can't continue their existence!
And still the sea offers them its promise,
a distant shore untouched by man...
by his greedy ways and incompassion,
causing the extinction of many species;
my reflection is based on fact :
we can't survive without them!
The stylish wild birds engage,
as if striken by a sudden rage,
in their frantic, daily dance over the marina,
as I listen the melancholic lyrics of " Nessun Dorma "...
the exquisite area of Puccini,
which comes alive through the extraordinary voice of Bocelli!
At four the fog thickens and shrouds the shoreline,
the brass lampposts light up with reluctance...
to shy away the presence of any ghost;
I, in transitive joy, hide my treasure beneath the tides,
hoping someone will find it and remember my work...
long after my thoughts will be no longer alive!
He was striken with sudden illness
Had been taken to the hospital
For immediate diagnose
And extract reason for the cause;
As he jumped down from the car ..
To embrace him she ran
May be he wanted to convey something
But her vision was blurred with love tears
She failed to understand his behavior
She grasped him tight
Swung him on her arms
Gazed at his red eyes
Sprinkled kisses on his cute mug
Irresistable to her love
He started licking her face
Drenching her with saliva
Leaving his diseased stench
Feeling something strange & unusual ..
She then looked for the driver
Who was seated in the car
Motionless with fear
Just uttered vaguely
"The dog is in the final stage of Rabies
He would die anytime with seizures
Now his touch spreads virus
And we are in danger too"..
Her heart cracked with the news
She didn't wish to lose her love
Who was her only companion
After everyone had discarded her
He inflicted pain by his magical touch..!!
The driver hurried away for a vaccination
But she, the mistress sat sealed to her pet
Remained housebound waiting ..
For death to swallow them together...
Disclaimer:The rabies virus is mainly transmitted from the saliva of a rabid animal when it bites or scratches a person.
People may acquire rabies if infectious material from a rabid animal, such as saliva gets directly into their eyes, nose, mouth, or a wound.
Placed as Honorable Mention in the contest.
Note: INFLICTIONS Poetry contest.
Sponsored by Silent One.
The pyramids are the triangular prims of the Egyptian desert,
monumental in height, and unsurpassable in endurance...
works of the hands of the whip-lashed Hebrew slaves;
no grief-striken faces were ever carved into them,
but those voices still recede into their lamentation's songs.
From each angle they seem equal in length,
narrower at the top and wider on the bottom,
and hotter than the dry sand dunes that thirst for rain;
and the Valley of the Kings, which perpetuates death's bliss,
still intrigues any archeologist who wanders in their labyrinth.
And delving deeper into our imagination, they are massive tombs in which the servants
gave the deceased Pharaoh a superb make-over, putting rouge on his lips and cheeks;
adorning him with an arkh necklace, and a scarab amulet with bright colors,
and these triangle-shaped pyramids are more solid than the boulders of a canyon,
and have never been shaken by an earthquake or devastated by a flood..
From the seat of a small airplane, they take the unmistakable shape
of cones with the evidence of continual corrosion caused by whipping winds;
this is the home of spiders that eternally crawl into the sandy storms;
every pyramid displays an intricate design, alluding to a more advanced species,
which for some unexplainable reason fled from danger with the swiftest rhythm.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
A race against time ..
As her life is faced with challenges..
A tragic loss of a loved one ..
Grief strikes her like a hot iron..
The pain intensifies as it shoots through her heart..
Paralyzed in mourning..
Feeling trapped inside a frozen tundra..
A race against time..
As she rushes to escape her sorrow..
She imagines Serenity..
Peace floating through her..
As she races against time..
Grief striken tears are shed..
As her eyes are blinded by pain..
In a moment of silence..
She prays for strength..
Seeking for courage to carry on..
She races in a new direction..
Where her heart is healed..
Where she no longer carries a torch of pain..
She walks in nature..
Song birds sing in tune of the wind..
Softly..
The wind cries her name ..
Joyful cries become music to her ears..
In a moment of silence..
She glows..
As the inner light inside her shines brightly..
Her prayers have been answered..
I was once a poet weaving the lines of joy like a love-striken damsel,
Hoping the day would never come when the cock would crow three times,
I was once a boy dreaming dreams of a blissful life,
Scorning the past snake bites and regretful sighs
That could bid me walk a cautious road.
Alas, joy lasted until sunset when the masquerade wore its true garb
And began the evil dance beside my bed chamber
So sleep took a forceful flight and the boy finally became a man,
And the pretended bliss hurriedly gave its seat to grief.
I was once a believer in the pigeon's song,
The sweet melody of a hungry cat trying to lure a mouse to its gory end.
But now I throw my ink and my dreams,
I burn the scrolls of my schemes,
Ready to walk the rugged path.
I was once a poet
But now I a man again,
A much learned man.