Long Swimming pool Poems
Long Swimming pool Poems. Below are the most popular long Swimming pool by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Swimming pool poems by poem length and keyword.
1.
observing the ardent eagerness of the wind
it is clearly understood
that nascent pollens are overflowing
the niche of her heart
in response to the signals of the river
she keeps on ringing
all long the month of earth-quakes
the bench of the rail-station
wants to hug her
the medicine-counter of the ***-end of the day
beckons her with the hand to come nearer
in the assembly-hall for musical demonstration
adorned with ash-trays
going on the rehearsal of her dancing and singing
she also distributes some life
to the meticulous dressing
of the magnolia
2.
let the swimming pool be fully absorbed
with its dark-room
when the feather of your fore-finger
becomes green
the merchant of venice
will leave his business of photo-coping machine
to start walking directly
in search of new earnings
evening sets in
on the boiler of the delta
putting on yellow-dress comes
the water-vessel of the paper-balloon
there is no singing bird
shivering with cold
in the fold of the dear bed-sheet
it is possible that the boldness of the metro-railway
may give some wood of tamarisk
on the expanded palms
yet oh the western page of night
do tell today
why so much tamed polythene
are here in our cohabitation
3.
after so many days
published in the wind
painted in wings
the recent heart’s desire
of the doors and windows
they have rolled up their fairy-tales
from the ignorant drawing-room that wanted
to set her mind to the hill slanting downward
they did not want to know
how much rheumatism is there
in the hands and legs of the bark
to whom is delegated
the control of the mason-made bus-journey
sleep hugs the eye-lids of the rivers
though there is no postage-stamp
within the reaching-point
then what magic is there
in the hill slanting downward
why the wall does not learn
how to swim like a fish
truly it is he from whom
those negligible moments of man-ism
itch for blue candle-stand
My room, which is in our school's condominium is miles away from home. All alone, I stay in this beautiful room which has one glass window and two sliding glass doors . On weekends, especially Sundays, it is so quiet here and peaceful. Neighbors are few, their doors are closed and many of them go back home. At first, melancholy was killing me. Finally, I've found some good diversions; which had extricated this feeling. In tandem with my household chores is sitting here in a balcony where a very fantastic view I see! Overlooking here are swimming pool, manmade lake, the flying birds and squirrels running and swaying on the branches of those tall green trees. So, I really find this balcony a perfect place to stay while silence engulfs me. In here, I play piano and paint; then, conglomerations of feelings I have as I write my poetry.
In Your Heart
The tall green trees are beckoning,
They can sense what I feel;
Those squirrels which make sounds and grin,
They've secrets to reveal .
Silence will never make you sad,
It refreshes your mind;
You can enhance your skills and pray,
In your heart, you can find.
Written: Sept. 1,2012
First Place Winner
Contest: My Quiet Place
Contest Judged: 9/17/2012
Sponsor Poet: Sara Kendrick
Cracked castles are in dilemma. whether to fall or stand
Waters whirl like a lake and sea, with a lean sign of land.
Among the carcasses of beasts lie humans, as though mixed
In destiny's destructive force, nature remains transfixed.
Swarms of insects strive for existence. Will they all outlast?
Ants carry a dead snakelet in procession, unasked.
Do dogs, cats, goats, and cows think that they're in a swimming pool?
Aren't they on their final journey, though the water is cool?
Blessed are the rescuers, who risk their lives to save others.
To leave one to die or to save them, they have their druthers.
It's due these that the catastrophes of nature get humbled.
The fanfaronade of death and its decay get crumbled
The flood is like autumn. With its waters, it flows and fades.
Doesn’t the drought-flood scene have been enacted like sun and shades?
Vegetation sprouts with renewed vigour, power and strength.
Meadows, orchids, and orchards spread out to an unseen length.
"Friends Attend Contend #2"
The first book of The Old Testament called; Genesis is the story of the origins, of both planetary nature and human nature and serves with distinction.
... or schemer effects
21st century, this is,
That's him over there,
Who's him, whose that,
the next Moses himself
That's Moses, that's also his name,
no it's Henry Magillacutty
WHAT, wait a minute, wait a minute,
Oh gawdawful this is.,
He'll take us to the promised land
of milk and honey
I'm lactose intolerant and a diabetic,
we'll have a better life there,
I got a swimming pool at me house.
It was the summer I would first choke
on second hand marijuana smoke;
I passed the swimming pool lifeguard test
and received my first real paycheck.
It was the summer I learned how to drive -
got my license on the first try;
And, by Saint Leonard’s pond I was blessed
with discovering what was up her dress.
Nixon had resigned;
I saw “The Exorcist” for the first time;
Paul McCartney sang “Band on the Run”
and we were having some adult fun.
It was the summer I smiled a lot;
The first jewelry that I ever bought;
I looked forward to each coming day
as my innocence slowly slipped away.
But summers must always end;
I saw her with my friend;
The ring was soon returned;
It was the summer my heart got burned.
Forty summers have since passed,
Of heart breaks, it was not my last,
But of memories, I must confess,
In regards of time, it has passed the test.
can we find peace
under a pillow
under the covers of
a lonely lovers bed
in a field blown by the wind
or in a back yard swimming pool
weighed down with lifeless feathers
or are we merely flying
to the tops of living roots
set for us by generations of followers
dug in foxholes dig
lonely soldier never thought it was to be
caught in the crossfire of some foe
his dream was of home
swallowed in shrapnel
we don't think on this dream much
for the nightmare has begun
life in it's short shell, impenetrable
from all .
now when we dream
are we alive walking on
live wires burnt and scathed
by angry wise men
fall back on everything find
your death and embrace it
sleep the good sleep
smile for life has begun
“Finger of God stirs Atlantic Ocean
We watch in awe moved by it’s motion”
Quote by poet
Making footprints on beach white sands
Sunset dipping into warm ocean like hands
Salty call of fall in blue breeze
Magical waves cascade crashing
Atlantic Ocean warm and pearly
October sky rises early
Within sea creatures are at home
Swimming in a current strong
We gaze as the sea offers fish
Sea gulls diving and seldom miss
We enjoy colorful cloudy art
Frames the Atlantic as a star
Such beauty yet dangerous too
Not as easy as swimming pool
Each year current takes life a sacrifice
Swimmers who tried but drown inside
And of the sharks beware it’s true
You can end up being fish food too
Atlantic Ocean with its wonderful sprays
Beautiful in it nights and it’s days
I was walking through Woodruff Park
again today, although it felt a little
bit more like swimming; I had to backstroke
my way through viscous Summer air.
As I stopped to catch my breath
and towel off, I saw him.
Lying at the bottom of this swimming pool of a park
among the 2 o’clock trees and rugged,
rebellious weeds was a middle-aged man,
face creased and folded like fresh-pressed
dry cleaning before your first big interview
He was on his back, still as statuary,
in unlaced jet-black dress shoes,
polished so each one winked in the sunlight.
Arms buffeted at the elbows by quickly cuffed
sleeves as they lay heavy on the ground like unsuspecting
roadkill on that new on-ramp off of Boulevard.
The spotlight was on him: golden rays upon
fragile eyelids. Cruel beams focused like a bored
eight-year-old with a magnifying glass.
He looked dead.
Just when I began to dive back in and play
lifeguard, he pulled that naked forearm
up over his eyes and took a deep, wet breath.
It's not a swimming pool
still feels so cool,
it's not even a pond
still feels so grand!
On a hot summer day
children at play
dipping their toes
where the hydrant flows,
looking so hip
ready to take a dip,
posing to jump
in the murky dump.
Having some fun
under the hot summer sun
kids of the neighborhood
immersed in childhood
in a make-believe pool
a site not so cool.
A man in a suit
needs to reboot,
a man rolling sleeves
looking for relief,
the awful summer heat
burning under feet.
By the repair shop
the pedestrians stop,
as kids smile and laugh,
blow bubbles, and chaff.
The grown-ups gaze
in a quiet daze,
don't see the lure,
don't feel so sure,
it's a construction site
full of blight!
Not much activity,
the street looks empty,
so much humidity,
air quite sweaty,
time for some relief,
time to go knee deep.
August 31, 2017
Placed 1st: Brian's Choice 8 Contest by Brian Strand
Placed 4th: Hot Summer Day
Sponsor: Eve Roper
It was the first time I fell in love
With brown eyes, big smiles…funny face
Miles and miles of words exchanged
And so few remembered
Thinking it would last a lifetime
Excitement growing, a spoonful of sugar
Straight into the mouth
Dissolved all the same
Happy memories char me with grief
A photo captured but never seen
For they never come again
As you do
Pen, paper
A rose, the best gift I ever received
Never should have eaten that lollipop
You were right, it was the wrong time
But it made you smile so sublime
Chubby red face glistens in the sunlight
We were so young and bright
“Bye buddy!”
Laughter becomes muddy
A dance we never danced
Green grass . . . brown coat
Swimming pool
Nothing left but a frumpy moat
An empty spoon that still shines
Though nothing received
They never come again
As you do
What I remember most
Is that shiny red nose
When you laugh, I often see it again
But you are with others
And it is still truly beautiful
See, some visions last
But emotions ever change
And thoughts flee and live again
Come again
And you may remember some blue green eyes
Maybe I should have never said goodbye