Long Vicinity Poems
Long Vicinity Poems. Below are the most popular long Vicinity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vicinity poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: May 30th, 2026, for a contest sponsored by: Silent One
Quote: "My mother was destiny. My father, grace." By Rumi
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He was no eidolon,
but a telluric force
keeping his grounding on,
never veering off course.
Yet restless as cabotage winds across oceans,
carried the world in his motions.
His laugh—obstreperous and wild,
a gale where rafters rattled,
Yet his taciturn silence, deep and mild,
calmed the miasma where doubt battled.
Clumsy of tenderness, devout,
learned late how to cradle.
His heavy hands, like a broad ladle,
became limpid, flowing rivers,
guiding me past venal mirrors,
and maelstroms meant to wither.
A ragamuffin teacher,
pugnacious with life’s features,
fustigated blatherskite shudders,
turning them into golden treasure.
Coins of courage for the dreamer,
minted in the furnace of his gaze.
In the penumbra of his presence,
a shudder rippled at vain sight—
the void held its equanimous essence,
a reverent tremor of sublime light.
Whispering secrets of the sunken stars' vicinity,
veiled within the ideology of his scars' trinity.
He was besotted with love,
austerely self-denying as he drove.
An erudite cartographer—a heart of dove
tracing the ancestral cradle, arched above
By the iron of peace, and velvet glove.
Carving a haven from havoc, and a grove.
Dear Father—
my zeitgeber, my grimoire of guidance,
my incarnadine horizon.
Even now,
your mellowness lingers.
A tenderness—
sardonic,
stretching into the infinite.
Written: April 16, 2024
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Aloof seashore, unmoored and carved
Ambrosian aesthetically alluring
In twilight's yearning glance,
Once loaded, linger and hinder
Stars strewn swathing sapidity sky
Nostalgic aura of bygone memory
Before experiencing love,
One must bond with sadness
Within the confines of truth
Must first be honest with himself,
as I wake up each morning,
I place my feet on the floor
My pure and unburdened soul comes to mind
anticipatory stirring of emotions within
I linger idly, akin to a seed yet to bloom
Yet, in the depths of my soul, day and night
I'm unaware of the tears that will soon fall.
I wonder: Does the sun shine?
Is it a sylphlike seraphic splurge?
In a virtuosic wispy beyond reach?
And, with a virile embrace
By the shore, aurora glow swirls
Or the porch light gentle glow.
Gazing in sight—chatoyant soul shines
But I am aware of the truth
Your love extends beyond stars
You could have an elixir melody
But not as deep as your love
Your love illuminates the skies
In your vicinity, my eudaemonia,
yet satiated with yearning desire
However, if you decide to remain
My heart is yours to retain
It quivers with the sound of your touch
Yet, fear and false feelings abound
Your love is a distant star in the sky
While Eden is albeit far away.
Ambling along a country lane, a weathered barn caught my eye.
Nigh it stood a crumbling silo, yet reaching for the sky.
Oaks raised leafless arms heavenward, on that bleak autumn day,
As if in supplication, pleading to deter its inexorable decay.
The once sturdy structure was now in forlorn shambles,
Nearly over taken by tall grasses, weeds and brambles.
On its weathered boards were traces of faded reddish paint.
A Mail Pouch Tobacco mural graced one side, tho' very faint.
Atop the sagging roof was a rusted, squeaky weather vane,
Turning listlessly at the whim of the fickle wind's gust or wane.
A lightning rod, even in its day, considered somewhat odd,
Had collapsed - its copper pinnacle buried beneath the sod.
Rusty hinges protested as I opened the door and ventured thro'.
I startled a flock of pigeons, creating bedlam as they flew!
Mice skittered across the floor in the dimly filtered light,
As they raced about in confusion in their frenzied flight!
What once had sheltered cattle and stored the farmer's grain,
Was the hapless prey of the lashing storms' complete disdain.
For such old abandoned barns, I have a very special affinity,
And enjoy visiting them whenever I am in their vicinity!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
#Precious
Day in and day out,
In my window,
my eyes lay low,
like a lion on its prey,
awaiting only to quench my soul
with your luminous glow.
Your drizzling laughs,
consistently sending shivers down my spine.
Wish you'd peep into my stomach
whenever you toss your eyes to my direction, constantly provoking the butterflies in my stomach, to run amok.
Shut my eyes,
clot my earsdrums,
in your distance my heart reverberates,
tie my tongue,
for my soul screams to your aura,
less these streets hear whats not meant for their ears to consume.
From a distance fell so hard,
bruises on my heart awakes
whenever I lay my eyes on you,
like demons in my spirits
evoked by your purity,
Owe it to bow to your parents
for slipping a goddess out of heaven,
without God's knowledge,
right into my vicinity
#Poetic_ink
Our dear leader
Our favorite President
President Trump
Once again
Interjected himself
Into areas that he knows nothing about
Making a fool of himself
In the process
Why does he do this?
Time after time
Talking nonsense
It is because
He is the smartest man
In the universe
Knows more than anyone else
And so he feels
He has to comment
On everything
Under the sun
And then some more
Even when he
Does not know
What he is talking about
So painful to watch such a fool
Mark Twain had sage advice
If you want people to think
You are a fool
Open your mouth
and remove all doubt
In the midst
Of the devastating Paris Norte Dame Fire
He tweeted
“So horrible to watch the massive fire
at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris,”
“Perhaps flying water tankers
could be used to put it out.
Must act quickly!”
Later, Mr. Obvious noted,
They’re having a terrible,
terrible fire,”
Mr Trump later told reporters.
“It looks like it’s burning to the ground.”
The French were not amused
By the unwanted advice
By the fire fighter in chief
France’s civil defense agency,
Sécurité Civile, tweeted —
once in French
and once in English
— less than two hours after Mr Trump
sent his tweet
and appeared
to directly respond to the US president.
“Helicopter or aeroplane,
the weight of the water
and the intensity of the drop
at low altitude
could indeed weaken
the structure of Notre Dame
and result in collateral damage
to the buildings in the vicinity,”
the agency wrote in French.
And despite never posting updates in English,
the agency then sent out a second tweet.
Hundreds of firemen of the Paris Fire Brigade are doing everything they can to bring the terrible #NotreDame fire under control. All means are being used, except for water-bombing aircrafts which, if used, could lead to the collapse of the entire structure of the cathedral.
— Sécurité Civile Fr (@SecCivileFrance) April 15, 2019
And the French provided
This helpful advice
To the Fire Fighter in chief
When California burned
you did not seem to be a fire expert.
Please, shut up.
It is a tragic moment
for the cultural heritage of humanity.
april 17 poem for April Month of Poetry Challenge see Writers Digest, All Poetry and my blog, https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com for the rest
I let everyone know in my immediate vicinity,
that if you have a pet, any
whereupon euthanasia has become a necessity,
because your pet is suffering needlessly
from a condition that is destined to end terminally,
but you cannot bring yourself to undergo this most difficult deed,
Please Feel Comfortable And Free To Call On Me,
and I will bring your beloved pet to your vet
and I assure you they will all depart with a most glorious exit.
None of them will ever see any tears from me,
none will feel any energy from me suggesting grief.
In my arms they will drift off to their well deserved peace,
When they go all they will feel is all of my positive energy,
but after they are finally gone I will admit truthfully
that I will breakdown and uncontrollably weep,
not just out of sadness for this loss and the survivors bereaved,
but also out of joy, because I know unquestionably,
that I provided your beloved pet the best final exit
your furbaby could have ever received.
I am Reverend BILLYtheKidster,
Animal Last Rights Minister.
Oh yes, I forgot to tell everybody,
I provide this service ABSOLUTLY FREE,
but I'm afraid that you will have to pay for the procedure unfortunately.
I do this a lot and if I paid for every euthanation,
I'd soon thereafter have to file for bankruptcy everyone.
The bullfrog leads to a croaking sound.
Haunting the summertime downpour.
It's once entirely stumped in an emerald.
Streams with a distorted side outdoor.
My angling bar is imploring for my name.
Across the short zeniths and into a valley.
Squirrels adore a fabulous time romping tame.
Mother swamp frog lives in this vicinity.
The ground uncovers tardy deer tracks.
Thither they made a hilt break for breakfast.
Day Lily embraces me with a hello clack.
Orange toned sprinkled across the floor crust.
Crown spurs are conveyed by a blackberry.
Repeating calves cry someplace in the distance.
Falcons are swooping in to catch prey in the sea.
Spurring of the mountain's life excellence
Written: November 18, 2021
I am lost, my eyes wide, and my heart quivering.
My legs are paralyzed, and I have no memory.
I stroll silently, my consciousness wandering.
I am alone inside an unexplored territory.
I would wish the room to be cold and inviting.
I envy our heat vitality to come from within,
trusting that it won't be an errorless meeting.
I simply wish our spirits to embrace and grin.
If anything, I crave to be on the last ship.
It will set sail from the port this evening.
I love to read and listen to the sea on a trip.
For me, ocean melodies are alike love singing.
I dream to be a bird that flies with the wind.
Away from the realms of science and business.
I hope that what I say will be defined.
And, surely, my goal won over my madness.
I starve to beat back that feeling of wholeness.
I sense gravity and an utter void in the vicinity.
Bringing me back to a firm base of neatness,
since I'm heavy with knowledge and salinity.
I desire to write for myself and believe again
and will sing from the heart and avoid flattery.
Apart from romance with myself after pain,
I yearn to look weak, not prone to my mastery.
Regardless of how narrow is my path.
It obviously loaded the coil with censure.
For punter or worse, my life is in my sheath.
My soul's captain is myself, the sensor.
If you can hold your cool under scrutiny,
They'll gripe and hold you responsible.
If you can trust yourself as others botching
Charter their views, yet they look with mutiny.
Our Soul’S Wish List Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
6/20/17
So much stupidity
And attempts at mimicry
Do I need to describe it more vividly
With better imagery?
I guess I've been feeling differently
Than the rest of the industry
Don't ever question my authenticity
And dignity
In any vicinity
Got to get it willingly
Consistently with resiliency
Executing the plans skillfully
And efficiently
Whether it is clear or poor visibility
You must be kidding me
FOH with your flippancy and negativity
I want no involvement in such petty activity
So quit the hostility
And bigotry
Before you instantly
Get no sympathy
No validity
And credibility
Do not speak to me religiously
Or egotistically
Maul you viciously
Making you bow submissivley
So proud of your own infamy
And any publicity
Show you some true brilliancy
With or without electricity
Out and in of every proximity
Suddenly, I find myself in a strange surrounding.
What I’m seeing defies an accurate describing.
I see faces of my relatives I used to know.
However, they have all passed on many years ago.
Some of them I know only from pictures I have seen.
I know this isn’t possible; it’s such a strange scene.
They’re seated at a table saying “Hello” to me.
Why am I here? I know this can’t be reality!
Is Rod Serling somewhere near in this vicinity?
My great-grandfather sits at the head of the table.
Asking me, “Are you hearing me son; are you able?
I’m pleased to let you know you will be joining us soon.
We will be calling for you soon after the full moon.
Don’t worry son, I understand that you have some fear.
We all love you, and we know that you will like it here.
Make the most of your time while you are still on the earth.
You have possessed the potential ever since your birth.
Love your family, and attend to their every need.
They will return their love, and this advice you will heed”.
You will return to earth and do this. Have we agreed?”
This was just too much for me as I fell out of bed.
I wound up on the floor, and got up shaking my head.
I thought, “That certainly showed to be an oddity!
I’m not sure if that was a dream or reality!”
Robert Pettit