Long Surfer Poems
Long Surfer Poems. Below are the most popular long Surfer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Surfer poems by poem length and keyword.
Desert blown mystic mist,
tumbling sands of roving sun,
shadows tell your passing,
with dunes though never one.
The grain upon a lizard tail,
tale of reptile life,
brushed to killing hawk feathers,
gecko blood on beak like knife.
Soaring sand child seaward,
drop from thermal height,
roll among the mighty waves,
be part of ocean's might.
Stuck upon a surfer,
sliding clean into the blue,
ride a wetsuit hanging car,
shimmer in sunshine, I saw you.
Contemplation of the sands,
music of the travelled few,
captured second of the eye,
poetry's unravelled view.
©D.N.Read 2013
Inspired by Bruce Dickinson song Darkside of Aquarius
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the wings of the first hellrider rode venom —
so copious it stained sky and moonlight,
making mothers bolt their doors
against the eastern warmonger's hot gust.
From molten rock and flaming seas the second rode,
hawking evil wares; his tongue a forge of lies,
spinning promises, seeding secret agents
to rule and mislead in every land.
The third came as a preacher of war ~
turning brothers on brothers, sisters on sisters,
tilling the soil with blood to make it ready
for the fourth — who carved theology into terror.
I tried to run — my feet sunk in wet clay.
Then a lone silver surfer appeared:
from starlit sky or silver sea I could not tell;
he drew me from the mire, breathed strength into my arms.
I vowed to reinvent the wheel:
let fascists taste their own venom, feed their children poisons they brewed,
slay kin with the swords they bloodied.
Death will kiss them in their sleep.
My migratory mind indomitably mobile
recedes with the ebbed time to the shore of the past
like the spirited surfer on the wandering waves of life,
surging on curled crests carrying the fractured moon
to the twirling troughs that store the sunk stars.
The wheel of time churns up the disarray dust,
settling on the unstable shelf of my listless life.
Memory menagerie from the dismal debris flies away
as the fulcrum of frail self-realization oscillates
beyond my grasp on the rolling ripples of longing.
In the weed-webbed terrain draping the depth within,
turns from the wreckage of lost love to a golden garden.
The pathway paved by memory outside its frail fence,
waits for me remarkably rejuvenated, to be walked
to the mesmeric meadow of the promising tomorrow.
The dormant memory is then inspired to innovate
the arcane acumen of self-acquired inspiration alchemy.
Marigold blooms with hues of hope in the junkyard,
the glitter of gold flashes in the rusted crust of riling ruins
with the metamorphic touch of the Midas mind.
When my castle of sand on the shore of yearning
tumbles down as the discarded debris of doting heart,
I discover the hidden flute of feeling permanently preserved,
and play again the lost tune that changes my life
with the ecstatic melody of the symphony of memory.
My migratory mind indomitably mobile,
recedes with the ebb of time, seeks the shore of the past,
as the spirited surfer on the wandering waves of life,
surging on curled crests carrying the fractured full moon,
and within the twirling troughs that store the sunk stars.
The wheel of time churns up the disarray dust,
settling on the unstable shelf of my dismal listless life.
In the maimed moments of perennial perturbation
the fulcrum of frail self-realization oscillates
beyond my grasp on the rolling ripples of longing adrift.
In the weed-webbed terrain draping the darkness within,
turns from the wreckage of lost love to a glorious garden.
The pathway paved by memory outside its frail fence,
waits for me remarkably rejuvenated, to be walked
to the mesmeric meadow of the promising tomorrow.
The dormant memory is then inspired to innovate
the arcane acumen of self-acquired inspiration alchemy.
Marigold blooms with hues of hope in the junkyard,
the glitter of gold flashes in the rusted crust of riling ruins
with the touch of the Midas mind metamorphosed.
When my castle of sand on the shore of yearning
tumbles down as the discarded debris of doting heart,
I discover the hidden flute of feeling preserved as
“memories buried in the wavering wash of time.”
I play again the lost tune of my life with melody of ecstasy.
"All a man really wants, is a girl who looks good in a bikini."
- Jack Freestone
Bikini Betty's Beef
A randy surfer from Malibu Crest
Untied the bikini top off of Celest
You’re my Betty let’s hang loose
As he tried for her caboose
Celest slapped his hand away from her breast
Aloha Barney, this isn't your turf
A lecher you are who can’t even surf
Damn men with no brains, think again
Bet you’ve never even hung ten
I’m not your Betty, uncool stupid Smurph
by I Am Anaya
As striking as a Malibu Barbie doll
Gals in bikinis I love, summer and fall
But I'm classy and kind
And so drawn to their mind
That they need not wear a bikini at all
by Robert Gorelick
Acid reflux ~ 7:00 post meridiem September 24th, 2019
Ah... nothing more enjoyable than acidic gastric fluid flowing backward into esophagus, resulting in heartburn, disrupting pleasant dreams, nor unsure how successful literary endeavor crafting poem regarding aforementioned will yield.
While deeply asleep
during late afternoon siesta
above name named date/time,
yours truly immediately awoke
with a start, at strong violent
urge to upheap
I made little or no bowed peep,
but sat bolt upright stock still
tear ducts activated eyes
as if ready to weep.
Sadness less pervasive than fright
since reverse peristalsis uncommon
within body electric regarding plight,
which analogous volcanic eruption
albeit bubbling magmatic flow slight
reverse peristalsis found yours truly
on par with fire breathing dragon ar
goo ably momentarily nonplussed -
while dry cough minus gushing lava
gratefully only smoldered before sim
ring upper gastrointestinal tract did
allow, enable, and provide mouths
full of distilled water quench sudden
unquenchable thirst relieved result
ant unpleasant aftertaste (no pun
intended), yet distilling humor helps
me weather, manage, cope... with
unexpected physiological fee nom
mina - shot straight up within digest
heave tract, and did lament this rick
hitty packet of muscle and bone aft
times susceptible to disheartening
woebegone news afflicting this non
Norwegian bachelor farmer, whom
if the missus cooking triggered bout
unleashing bit torrent of unsavory
plate tectonics, perhaps indicative
of continental drift shrunk down to
miniature, where fault in thee stars
must be held in contempt of court
if for no other reason, I just wanted
to incorporate said phrase, tip here
me got some legal lear'n, when truth
Philly admits he seems to know less,
the he learns, which prompts me to
posit emphatically that ignorance iz
equivalent to bliss, thus presenting
quandary how kin this pronouncedly
reasonably intelligent garden variety
*****sapiens unfetter himself with
cumulative knowledge without reek
horse to invasive surgery such as...
prefrontal lobotomy, or te deum down
smarts some unknown cyber surfer(s)
could easily misconstrue as vainness,
smugness, quintessential pomposity?
Where Doth The Internet Exist?
The pro fun ditty of above
stated poetic side - title aligned
into an unexpected Eureka
(out of a vacuum) find
just when I felt slight (creative/
cerebral constipation) bind
of writer's block about
to take residence, entwined
(no doubt, sans right wing
of leftist conspiracy) behind
many occurences, when
fountainhead shrugging atlas
without warning didst grind
abruptly to a halt seizing
as if glommed up
ore din aerie profusion of ideas
exhausted from out mum mind,
and without moment's hesitation
ready to conclude I did overwind
springy coils oh me noggin,
though as per usual spellbind
ding idea coalesced within gray matter
startling me, qua omnipresent question
arising since Dawn of womankind,
how can one grasp hold of world wide web
defying insight as if suddenly rendering
myopic (accompanied with floaters) vision blind,
hence hum aware information
superhighway servers
encircle the globe and most all humankind
no matter where cyber surfer "travels"
only represents bytesize piece, viz mastermind,
who dreamt up ability to become linkedin
with a complete stranger consigned
to make sense of mine pablum
lumpy globs of non comestibles opined
on par like trying to chew melon rind
courtesy this poetaster he unwittingly
in his feeble attempt to impress
held accountable, cuz he unwittingly signed
death sentence to innocent reader,
who before this muck cob bray
auto to have sacrificed himself
to a gremlin and resigned!
Moving like moonlight
I am the OG silver surfer
Fleshwalkers, Dry Guys, Land Livers,
Have been around for,
What, 300,000 years?
Try 20 million years.
We eat stingrays.
Literally. For breakfast.
I have a 360 degree field of vision.
What's directly in front of me?
Don't ask.
Listen, Humanoids,
I'm delivering this plea
To your nearest post office.
Luckily I found a stamp
With my photo on it.
The plea is:
We are different from the other sharks
(Uhh: other sharks don't use post offices)
And are undeserved of their
Ruthless, roguish, reputation.
Yes, we are younger
Than our arrow-headed brethren
(Just 400 million years younger.)
But our brains are bigger.
Evidenced by our lack of interest
In Walky-Talky interaction.
Check your stats.
Us Real Heads are considered
"Shy" among you. Right.
You wouldn't believe
The number of karaoke
Joints down here.
The moon now
Has dipped down
From the world of air
While the sun has made it's rise.
I'm starting to tan in the shallows
A tad too much for my taste.
Stay safe, sentient skin slickers!
I must be one my way now
At 20-25 miles per hour.
The pontiff and I
Finally, the pope left, I saw him leave in a helicopter, dressed
in fetching white, his bishops wore black dresses with red stripes like the Norwegian Gestapo wore during the war.
They say 1.5 million people came to his venues, where did
pilgrims go for a pee?
It has been hot today, the sun knowing it has nothing to lose
shines with the utmost brutality not taking any prisoner.
Bodies under the trees, in the avenue, neglected old people dying in their beds, their broods, have gone to the beach
The heat makes people egocentric.
The pope said, when in a lyrical mood “he is a surfer riding on a wave of love.” Not bad for an old man about my age.
The vicar of Christ doesn't worry about breakfast tomorrow
still, I think it is a hard life living in a golden fish bowl.
The Silver Surfer – (born Norrin Radd) -
wow, with his metallic skin,
I’m jealous of his surfing aircraft
It’d be so great to take out for a spin.
That Silver Surfer – of a humanoid race
was born in Zen-La. A great astronomer was he.
He did not like how hedonistic his world became.
Here’s the tale of what he came to be.
There was a space invader whose name was Galactus.
The planet Zen-la he wanted to devour.
Radd sought other worlds for his foe Galactus.
And for that, Galactus gave to Radd such mighty power.
At first the Surfer found for Galactus worlds devoid of life
until that evil one began to grow
more greedy. Then he wanted the Surfer to help him take the earth.
He fought the F F, but a lovely blind girl he came to know.
The girl convinced the Silver Surfer to turn against Galactus.
By doing this, he was our friend, but new things were in store.
Another time, he terrorized our earth and then got struck down.
His life was a series of “ups and downs” with the Fantastic Four.
Creating his own energy and needing not to sleep - as the Surfer
he had so many powers, but there were times he failed; his luck would cease.
Sadly, it’s been told that he clawed himself for lack of oxygen.
In “Ruins” his corpse was found afloat in space. May he rest in peace.
Feb. 18, 2023
For Robert James Liguori's Marvel Superhero Or Supervillian Poetry Contest