Long Sunken Poems
Long Sunken Poems. Below are the most popular long Sunken by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sunken poems by poem length and keyword.
OCEAN BOTTOM VIEWED-
On that day my soul grew midstream, midstream;
I threw my Antarctic upon the floor;
They are perfumed from unseen sunken breams;
There Venusians underscored treasures;
Act all that’s from out my heart does measures;
Oceans surrounding submissive pleasures;
~
I heard domestic, marine oiling;
My smallmouth bass, I could not awaken;
Seas crave the endogenous, temps boiling;
Sharp tooth sharks swim for fish for the taken;
Darken shadowed waters covered stricken;
Sea starfish broke dead floating silken;
~
In their stepped a vibratory sea bass;
Shark bite, I crave the saturnine south seas;
An echo from ocean floor hollered back;
Above and below ocean mangrove trees;
Also threw my whiting on the shore of seas;
Was a standout, breakout stout watery breeze?
~
When thinking of underwater ocean
Acts seaweed in liquid torrent motion?
6/4/19
Your Choice, Any Form, Any Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
”Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler...” — Robert Frost THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
YELLOW WOOD
there was the coworker’s hangup,
the incessant line,
the deathroom imagery —
i did not see the ugly parts
but i live the yellow wood,
not only my facts.
lately my face in the mirror morphs into relatives,
even in my dreams, as if it was all natural.
the eyes, cheeks sunken in, sharp chin of a heart
— i’m seeing the dead
and the sick,
also me with my wrinkles and grays.
i look outside my blue windows,
wanting the life that was so lively last year.
i see the same leaves, crisp and broken
but there’s a sadness this Fall
and a wondering —
will life restart…
i live for what energizes me —
the communion of song in the sanctuary.
i cling to every note that touches
the hem of Jesus
and mercy of his cross,
salvation and life everlasting.
my husband and i, side by side,
the apples of our eyes — our children;
and grandchildren on my lap,
on the phone or perpetually on my mind,
in my prayers
in my hope and blessing;
their voices and snapshots, gold.
longing for the retelling of the past.
i see it, within my grasp —
to tell me who or what i am.
this generation may not care,
but i care, with a deep longing
to share, not living in the past
but coloring the present;
the mind has unlimited fare.
11/16/2020
I circled the world in a point of time
And I discovered the story
Of Christopher Columbus’s lifetime
You know, he was born in Italy in 1451?
Young Chris sailed the seas as a felon
Attacking the ships of Moors,
But sadly his vessel was a sunken
Luckily he knew how to swim ashore.
Chris and his brother joined together,
And then he married happily
His wife’s father gave him registers
That all positioned toward the Atlantic.
Dreams for new lands were not far away
Across the seas they would set sail
To see worlds that would be new that day
And bring news that would change humanity.
First permissions were reject for the Indies
Then loving eyes died shortly afterwards
Leaving a son, so he sailed for the Spanish seas
And once more nobility refused his traveling ideas.
There was another wife and yet another child
In the shadow of time were more denials
His needs for finance seemed lost and wild
When a priest put forward for his sake and won.
Chris found his way together with his sons
And three ships that set sail for the Indies
Santa Maria flowed proudly in the setting sun
The Pinta, and The Nina followed closely behind.
The final voyage with vivid eyes showed the way
In 1492 Columbus sailed to the Canaries,
And the Sargasso Seas guided false passageway
Mutiny, anger and violence almost ruined the trip.
Alas the ideas of India and China came into view
Though the Santa Maria sank into the sea
The New World had been discovered by the few
It is now time to go home and spread the great news.
The journey has found a new world for the future
And the human race will now circle the globe
Ships will come and develop a land that is ever pure
Together the new lands will stand fourth as one big world.
Childhood crept through
those long summer days
when the smell of pine
hung in the hot air.
Deep in the shadows
of that besieged acre,
heaven and hell played
out a lethal game
in what crawled, wriggled
or took wing. Death there
was silent and cries
froze in gaping mouths.
Dragonflies patrolled
the boundary
like miniature demons
and in hollows,
mandibles gnawed
on nerves
until the last thread
snapped and let panic loose.
Gowned in finery,
other terrors waited
to welcome fleeing souls
with a fatal sting
or to paralyze the will
and render living flesh
food for offspring.
At night, screams
broke out
and blew across
battlegrounds
to tangle in the thickened
skeins of dreams.
Years on, all have
sunken deeper
and slurried
into a faceless fear.
There are times,
even now,
when you can hear
the sobs of those still
wandering the wastelands
of restless nights
whilst good people sleep.
I'm intrigued by what there may be
'neath great depths of ocean and sea
Treasures lost from life's history
A mystery A mystery
What's buried under ocean sands
Pirate's plunder and wedding bands
I dream of finding pearls in strands
With my two hands With my two hands
Ancient vessels, sunken for years
found off the sea coast of Algiers
admired by Mesdames and Messieurs
Toasted with cheers Toasted with cheers
I'd drain one mile of a river
just one briny little sliver
What will its waters deliver?
Would I shiver? Would I shiver?
What secrets do the oceans keep?
Do monsters swim or do they creep?
I long to execute a sweep
In fathoms deep In fathoms deep
Curiosity in me wakes
To dive within uncharted lakes
and sea beds risen from earthquakes
How high the stakes How high the stakes
But sunken relics from the past
remain interred in oceans, vast
Bounty from ships with broken mast
My dream downcast My dream downcast
June 1st, 2022
Fascination and Awe Contest
Sponsored by Jeff Kyser
Poetry Form - Monotetra
Tim had all the necessary ingredients right next to his ancient burner
Shark teeth dangling from a sunken necklace at the cutting edge but
The amulet had turned into chains and shackles grinding the chef’s mind
A lost recipe for happiness but and he had no appetite for nourishment
Attrition boiled over when nutrition resembled a poisonous chalice
Too tired to take stock he dwelled on his primordial soup turning back
Primitive and involuntary he turned on the gas and smelled his demise
Rotten onions had depleted his tears thinly sliced and disguised
Fetid leeks leaked misery a trickle or two at full stagnant pace
Spoilt thyme oozed malodorous rosaries into beads of corrosion
Squashed tomatoes splashed foul decomposition into his eyes
Fennel funneled his vision into a bubbling hell of indigestion
Olive oil splashed straight into his heart with no glimmer of peace
Cantankerous garlic would not fend off his festering demons
While a bay leaf could not keep mortally morose sadness at bay
Great white oblivion but slowly Tim made friends with predation
Resolved he was allergic to fishy feelings and toxic distaste
He did not remember at first how to simmer emotions and passion
But onions started to sprinkle tears of joy and the shark pointed the way
Soon leeks from a Welsh legend delineated friend from mal-aligned foes
Thyme soothed his splattering cough and he found his true inner voice
Tomatoes seeded bright red orange chakras from base to the top while
Fennel fought of bloating depression and conquered agony’s cramps
Previously oblivious oils from virginal growth re-birthed him into life
He licked his wounds and wild garlic from an ocean of wonderment
And chose the berries from a long forgotten and noble laurel tree
Tim had barked up the wrong perspective and had muted the roar
Eventually he conjoined ingredients recipe and fortunate blessings
Left the sharks out of the chowder and slurped smooth soup into his shell
There is a sunken valley in my heart
that draws me in to think of my demise.
A valley that appears mid-senior years;
a time when deaths demand final goodbyes.
The valley of my loss of treasured friends
is filling up much faster than I guessed.
Sad wakes and funerals, I now attend
to say goodbye and pray they are at rest.
My dearest kinfolk, in this valley too,
depart from me at such a daunting rate.
Both elders and my peers- I see them fade
as they leave life to enter Heaven's gate.
And I will join them in this valley too-
tho know my time to leave is not yet clear.
But years fly fast, and when that time arrives
know I will sink the hearts that held me near.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Empty Your Soul With Words
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 11/25/2017
Hyacinths in a trance, bewitched by hysteria,
Amid the shadows of a mythological eclipse.
Elixir of roseate red oozing out loose progeria,
In islands where the sea weeps azure breaks.
Amid the shadows of a mythological eclipse,
Daunting me subtly with its crimson smell.
In islands where the sea weeps azure breaks,
From golden dust to smooth bristly as well.
Daunting me subtly with its crimson smell,
The fading breaths of sinister falsehood.
From golden dust to smooth bristly as well,
On black graveyards to azure seas, we stood.
The fading breaths of sinister falsehood,
In the sunken bronze halls of antique disease.
On black graveyards to azure seas, we stood,
Teals are being tormented by nightly noise.
In the sunken bronze halls of antique disease,
Elixir of roseate red oozing out loose progeria.
Teals are being tormented by nightly noise,
Hyacinths in a trance, bewitched by hysteria.
Written: May 22, 2022
The moon was big and lit-up,
so of course, some local dog
was barking like crazy.
I got up, it was half past the tic of time
and way deeper than any sunken face.
I was a little wasted;
I get mad at such times
when the night cracks open in my head.
Outside, the backyard was fractured by silence
and an unpredictable yammer of sound.
A full-on moonlight had crapped shadows
all over the place.
I yelled pointlessly at the splintered sky
both sky and dog seemed to listen,
then the mutt yanked-up the volume
and really began to howl
I guess it was upset.
Back inside I turned on the laptop
and quietly typed out a lot of
bold, loud expletives -
perhaps considering
it better
not to disturb any more dead-eyed gods.
ONE NIGHT IN A HAUNTED MANOR
She spoke of shivers as I laughed in her face.
Let’s see if this goosebump delivers shakes.
I packed my bag with essentials, sought the place.
Just for humor’s sake I brought some stakes.
The winding cliffs, daytime dark, unsure footing -
at last after this serpentine stroll, I arrive
at this overcast mountainous manor, putting
away my pride, now wondering if I would survive.
Surprisingly a caretaker’s beyond this resistant door,
the heaviness like the depths of a sunken ship.
The woman’s dour, no smile, no shadow on the floor.
Her lipstick red as blood - I’m unnerved by her silent lip.
Candles flicker all around with an unfelt wind, from
ceiling to floor. Their wickedness wicks me to the core.
My bloodshot eyes, crazed, ask me why I’d come.
What did this monstrous manor have in store?
The creepy broad leads me to my room, she points.
Inside there’s a bed in the form of a coffin, satin-draped,
and thick moldy curtains - the eeriness shan’t disappoint.
Just then the clank of chains on the wooden floor scraped.
I leap out of my believer skin, as a ghost with red eyes grins,
head for the hall, slide down the stairs on my behind and crash.
I don’t care that I’ve lost five-thousand dollars — she wins.
Speeding down the highway, I swear, never again shall I be so rash.
1/1/2018
Sponsor Tania Kitchin