Long Transit Poems
Long Transit Poems. Below are the most popular long Transit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Transit poems by poem length and keyword.
Pigeon caught on a subway platform
bobbing in a landscape of feet
Escape cut off,
bobbing through risks
weaving clear of grinding boots
Liberated from nature,
pigeon transit-frenetic
like a novice in deep end swimming
no warning signs posted
A bird in need of rescue
from commuters who barely break
their stride
a tumbled push of bodies
Breathless souls in a hectic stake out
for metallic space
unfiltered anxiety
plundered sense of validation
no warning signs heeded
Beaked captives who rush the subway train
perpetually severed
from
their
wings.
Poem revised: March 23, 2021
A rustling of digital leaves
in the binary breeze.
Odd fractals of ones and zeros
crash in waves of a subliminal sea.
Rotations of carbon and nanowires
collecting in my shadow.
Ghost of man-made reality
in matrices of ions.
The light of a binary universe in transit.
Coils of cool light drifting
through my Silicon Soul.
A leaf curves and descends
into decaying isotopes.
I feel the event horizon
of god’s information overload.
A rustling of skeletal circuitry
in a binary breeze.
All is not what it seems: odd filaments
of nanites and nanoseconds.
Feeling the rush of cold
in a binary breeze along subliminal seas.
Jewel layer templates
gilded upstream sigh
winsome eyelet skimmed
scorning dawn orb
Delphic mustard sketch
on sapphire sequins
Appalachian awning
bearing flimsy nuggets
surreal slender straw’s
amber seam gore
lentil seed pod float
upon cashmere shrub
rainbird doleful cry
of damp gray epoch
amid citrus rind
cloud form sun drench
flabbergasted bard now
flailing as tinted
backscatter orange
alert impacts
banana belt script
beleaguered poet yens
tangential sepia pitch
for effervescent voyage
golden jug muse
saliva whorl thimbleful
as earthly thoughts
shimmer edgeways
while the isthmus
of indented arcades
random periwinkle
brushed aside by
spineless green matrix
adapted pun bound
to lace immersive
benign rapt plumage
hedgerow chirper squall
willow warbler, goldcrest
red bunting, greenfinch
broader scope anon
spotted flycatcher fitz-bew
amongst Glen thicket
a subdued tumult
but latent twitter
mint coda riot
paper craft adrift
hankers after worlds
ethereal and
neon-wrought ploy
incandescent dream lure
suburb tang visceral
round acorn strip
fenced circlegram
hub, imbiber of
fluctuating shade
and swerve corridor
of urban transit
where pavement
clad mosaic flaunts
its pear cut diamond
Am I fitful,
fluctuating, fluid?
thin compass waver
as I jubilantly weave
lilac tree vignettes
that weep or chortle,
rainbow figment curtain
rashly wished upon
in grain smudge zephyr
garnet sand raw vehicle
garden common opal
transit sidestep
to a multiverse
of sappy fruit drip
net bag of niche
mauve rim canopy
a gilt ring culprit’s
flashpoint conjure
stirring taxi cabs
of lavish spurt
woolgathering
a gold rush stray
footslog must
have steel encased.
undulating folds
entangled nomad feint
dwarf yellow scorcher
firmament fatality
dash for straw hut
casita or elm
wood cabin where
advertence on
turnpikes, trails,
woven tracks lead
trajectory abuts
plod along dry path
dust bowl swirling as
they spurn allotments
meek enshrouded lull
with unalloyed poise
to jettison narcolepsy
brief embargo on
spiral plumule
when one’s physique
has many harrowing
gasps, taut breath
that intrinsic quest
for glistening cascade
seems an urgent
void, crushing
diapason rudderless
mahatma clement at
Arcadias nascent
totem of egress
yet charismatic
terminal flag
as this sentient
hypothesiser on
emerald tint bract
beneath hiking boot
unflinching
wild clasp at
beanpole verges
riven from
shade burst cockcrow
lure an impetus
to meandered pretext
primeval boon-docks
whilst tranquil flit
discommoding tawdry
pitch or tilt
gaunt endowment
I must brood on
surreal moiety
of cerebral aspect
squandered
rude reckoning aside
lapse into sullen
vacuum found across
a link whose blind
velvet crush lingers
query later doused
in vapour whirl gush
inkling thin veneer
sheeny beadlet
brow sapped
nod and falter
to a childhood turf
shelter for the limb
victim of grinding
marathon on marathon
to relish glow hue noons
hermetically abeyant
sempiternal eves
avenue to wanderer
fatigued yet still
in broad pursuit
of deep quiddity
Invisible hands will thaw the frozen year
If only sun could do the same
For the silent pair who sit in stilted air...
The two, who ride the transit bus,
Going here and there....
Sadly,... who knows where?.....And sadder still, is do they care?
With a winter's chill between them, stripped and bare
She wears a cloak of tweed to keep her warm
He braves the cold hunched in a coat of brown
I see them there and wonder how it came to this
How silence breeds, while they have passed through years..
They board as two, a married couple, yes
But winter chills their very depth
Their eyes are vacant, nothing left
Of spring, of love, togetherness
When distance looms across the room
Where love once bloomed, but now is gone
Observed among a crowded bus
Or in the small café
No words are left to say?
No hands to grasp, no questions asked
No tender glance, don’t touch… don’t touch
I wonder how it came to be?
These two who vowed to always love
Do seasons come and leave such dust
When winter’s wind turns love to rust?
And winter’s breath chill hearts to stone
They live as one, yet stare alone
It isn’t hate, it isn’t love, it isn’t care, it isn’t much….
Just the icy, slippery grip of time .....and a deadly winter's touch
On beginning to compose a new poem...
Assaying thoughts gambol,
scuffling as in an affray
née crushing, jockeying, stampeding...
demanding equal airplay
gushing as metaphorical think
spigot turned on full force airway
thru totally tubular cerebral
microcosmic aisleway
vesicular conduit fifty
plus shades of gray
exhaling sigh of relief, cuz
transcending writer's block
innovative talent with words
did once again allay
needless panic, where yours truly
finds himself punchdrunk
in some dark alleyway,
an unfortunate fate
Matthew Scott alway
avert reminding myself
to utilize ujjayi breath
hard driving gateway
into Pranayama practices
analogous to make
emotional transit thru
golden itty bitty
teensy weensy archway
infinitesimal impossible mission
to pinpoint areaway,
yet crisscrossing meditative
zen zone an array
of utmost nirvana
will never lead effortless
mantra buffeted concentration
not lead astray
and matter of fact
lightness of being
scaling metaphorical kickstarting
rah height aweigh
up yonder within
outer limits twilight zone
re: supraconsciousness
keeping at bay
non intrusive thoughts
ruff lee collaring, mimicking belay
boring bonafide dog obedience training
pant tum miming (think) begging
for limp bizkit, thus
canine loosens seat belt buckle
one notch braving violating
no trespassing sign
despite petsmart restriction
heavy populated wall tint
head nab yule Haitian
made Christmas benday
eerily resembling voodoo
cursed poppet summoned
if anybody doth betray
not being spellbound
hence, blithely skipping
reading future poetry (mine)
magic edict I dost bewray.
The moon in terms of mythology
The moon goddess I'm referring to
The moon in terms of astronamy
The moon that’s facing planet blue
The moon the natural satellite
The moon within earths orbit
The moon giving the dark light
The moon always in transit
The moon an gravitational pull
The moon and mans many trips
The moon at times half, then full
The moon rarely a solar eclipse
The moon keeps the same face
The moon reflected by the sun
The moon that’s in outer space
The moon in our solar system
note decided to keep poems as single versions as some alredy on here
This spare of moment idea I wrote a year ago still been wondering whether to put on here
wanted into add to it but s=not sure where to go with it
when I was writing elements of life and mother earth
i don’t know much about astrology,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
wanted to add more to this
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
INSPIERD B SOUP POETS AT TIME JAN FEB 2012...............
............. this is my definison of stars
WRITTEN nisBY MYSELF DAVIDCOTT ,,,,,, 2012>>>>>
written jan 2012
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
PLEASE NOTE YES AGAIN THIS ONE ALREADY ON HERE BUT LIKE THE
OTHER WRITES IN THIS PATTERN WANTED TO ADD SECOND HALF
THE STARS AND THE MOON,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
note with the moon i wanted to mention tarot card reading the first astrologer ect
and also try to get to match to first half which was hard so oped to stick to things about the moon
maybe some others could give me some input i did do a little research but got lost
reading about moon tides and all the indeph astrology ect''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''?????
That kiss is still moving,
lips pursed, migrating in time
until my own lips pucker
sensing bubblegum lipstick.
That unseasoned taste of young lips
now wayfaring and rekindled
within a hundred mature women.
Landfalls, rainfalls, waterfalls,
all that falling into willing mouths
as if we were parents to each other,
a consuming need
to nurture and be nurtured.
Then those savage collisions
where blood is the thirst,
where lip to lip, fevered senses
are ground into ash or embers.
All those lips perfumed with honey,
bitter root and raw moonshine,
all exploring ways to drown.
That first sweet kiss
still moving on, as a question
in transit, transient, yet as deep
as a desert succulent
or as light
as any other wild flowering.
sharing a slice of pizza
sharing our dreams like a butterscotch milkshake
all out of napkins
bathroom paper towels as a substitute
waterfront booth vibe
barry manilow made it through the rain again
air supply is always all out of love
christopher cross does the best he can do
we prefer blessing the rains down in africa with toto
this is how we....come out of the closet and free ourselves if you will
what color....rear window definition
we just don't give a damn tonight
we are just enjoying being honest in that free spirited sort of way
we pay in starbucks....moonlight feels right as happily blow it all sky high as if we just complete the most difficult jigsaw puzzle
how long has this been going on....for as long as an ace accrues
being that we are both the adventurous types, lets take an elongated joyride via the chicago transit authority and colour each other's world....with pleasure....of each other's company
In sleep..Deepest sleep, does the body not move.? For lying too long on just one
Side is bad? I believe that is true.? We turn right to left, all unaware, as ( the body )
Regulates by innate care.' So being on the
Left indefinatley will stress your skin crush blood in transit, cause pain within
The same for the right, do not stay forever
Maybe a while on the back, will suit you better.? A simple enough theisis, but practical truth..Could it be applied to politics.? Would it help somewhat.? In
Valuing balance.? Does it allow a plot.?
As in seamanship? A course to follow for
The body of a country, maybe we all
should on just not? swallow..That the right side or the left, are the only choice.'
Available is discernment, treat it not as naught.' Maybe better for the body of a country, to have chance to move? And
Before retiring to the bed,
in making; slip off real heavy shoes ?