Long Voyage Poems
Long Voyage Poems. Below are the most popular long Voyage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Voyage poems by poem length and keyword.
In quest to find respite and solitude
I drift on the light of an amber sea
It's there I pray in words of gratitude
for a life that's blessed with serenity
Riding on waves where only peace prevails
gently lulled to sleep by swells as they crest
Tropic winds flirt with my billowing sails
I dream of feasting as Poseidon's guest
This peaceful voyage calms my heart and fears
Quiets the distress I've felt in the past
There's never a threat I will spill sad tears
while my anchor of burdens is not cast
I shall sail upon this sea in my heart
without the need for a compass or chart
~~~~~~~~~~~~
August 28th, 2016
Once in a memory
The boy played by the small stream running near the hospital
where his mother was a patient and time hung heavy this
afternoon in late September.
The boy picked five elongated leaves from a bush on each one
he put a pebble wanted to see if any leaf/boat survived
the voyage to where the stream went underground.
One leaf made it and should come out where the seaport is.
Once the stream had run free and rapidly crossed the green
field where elderly horses grazed, after a life of pulling
heavy carts, the lady who owned the land let the horses
be free; she had spent her youth looking after her father
who had been a Danish general, keeping his boots shining?
Habits are difficult to erase sometimes, a horse was seen
trotting in the cobbled streets lost in the past.
The stream ran to the strand where men pulled the boats
up for repair and selling fresh fish, crabs and shrimps.
As for the horses, when they were so old their teeth, gone could
not eat, the last walk was the knacker’s yard; salami and glue.
The field is now a town square where farmers sell their products
and their wives sell thick woolen long jones.
There is a statue of a famous writer he looked patrician, but mostly
he suffers the indignity of seagull droppings.
The lady who protected horses was regarded as eccentric,
but she lives on in songs and tales.
The boy saw in a café two ladies he sensed he knew; little did
he knows they were, as time rolled on- one at the time, wives.
When the boy came home, his mother was out of hospital,
boiling potatoes and frying sliced turnips.
Did I ever think I'd survive,
And see this world again?
A shock stroke of pain in the brain!
And I felt the blood drain!
Everything went blank!
A blackout! Black-hole coma pursued!
A short stop of the death!
Lo, a rude mood of solitude...!
I felt a mild aroma of cemetery roses,
Replaced by drugs of general anesthetic doses;
Midst hustle and bustle of nurse chorus stood doctor teams,
Planning all that could be done
To bring on my face smile beams...!
Humans of scientific merit have indicated:
No minute or second to any has ever waited;
Realization of the demands of time is a gift,
This gift has been the cause of many a paradigm shift...!
Gaining victory over illusions and ignorance,
Makes in the cognizance of consciousness vast difference;
The voyage of each soul in this universe is unique,
With times lost, the carpe diem,
Values and assets turn bleak...!
Timely intervention –
Doctors indicated a man,
A lean, weak, and unassuming
Who had increased my lifespan;
Neither silver nor gold nor sapphire
Nor diamond nor gem,
Can equal a person's life
Saved in a split second's hem...!!!
23 May 2023
A Diamond of Time Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
The Emerald City
Tales of long ago, many a tall story told
When the people spoke so vibrantly bold
Whispers of treasures of emeralds and gold
Hidden away, lost, a kings ransom to behold
Far away, somewhere lost in a dense jungle land
Guarded by a lost, ghostly, savage warrior band
Prepared for a millennium to defend, fight and stand
Silent swift death comes from ancient weapons in hand
Pathway to riches, a treacherous one
For all the emeralds and gold to be won
Will be the spoils to some fortune son
Perhaps a kings ransom, share for none
Countless perils awaits for any bold, foolhardy man
Many fallen lost souls of some obscure absent clan
In all the fickle lost schemes of many a forfeited plan
For there will never be a road to riches for any man
Long ago, daring tales of a lost Emerald City, so I’m told
Speaking of the riches to this very day, treasures so bold
To the gullible, still being sold by the alluring lies of lost gold
Somewhere lost forevermore, in the desires for all to behold
O search not for a rare applause,
Beware, life is a thankless stage—
It's vain, a loud uproar to cause
On this voyage of pilgrimage,
A puppet you are, caught in cage.
Vain to think you’re a great actor,
You know the plot, nor script nor end,
Watch out, Fate’s a poor director,
As clown, no great role shall ye land,
As puppet, pulled by unknown hand.
________________________________
Musings | 05.09.2015| Quintain
Poet’s note: We might think we are great actors, while in truth we are no more than clowns in the eyes of a spoilsport called Fate, Fortune, or Destiny. Man is then no more than a clown who hopes to hear applause on life’s stage that proves a vague hope, a mirage. For, life offers no programme; the director of the stage-play gives no script; the destiny provides no prompt. And still, he must perform in hope for an applause that seldom materializes.
On those nights
I stood long in front of oceans
Letting the waves crush violently
Under my feet.
I used to wait
For winds of words to come
And carry me
So I could breathe the smell of lakes
I would warm myself
By the holy fire
On islands' edges
Listening to chants of ancient people
Echoing from the depth of caves.
On those nights
The earth
Was not enough for me.
I flew too far away
Carrying some dreams
With tired wings and
A few hopes.
I was still weak
When the storms
Thundered in distance.
Decades later
I realize how painful this voyage was.
But to stay
Is more painful.
For that
I left my heart in the winds
Of words and dreams.
’Twas dark of night when the boat came
And tied up at the quay
Where desperate families were waiting
To cross the stretch of sea.
The men who sailed the simple craft
Were all in good spirit.
They helped passengers climb aboard
And showed them where to sit.
The boat was low in the water
But the crew reassured.
The sea would stay calm through the night
So nothing need be feared.
They cast off, the engine chugged.
From home shores they were clear.
An hour on, in dead of night,
They all began to fear.
The full moon cast its silver shine
Providing light enough
To show the ripple build to waves;
The sea was turning rough.
The boat was rolling side to side.
Soon the swell was spilling.
Passengers began to panic
As they started sinking.
Captain and crew had life jackets
And made it to the shore.
But those abandoned families
Were gone for evermore.
I’d set upon a long, uncertain voyage.
Twas one to test the pilot’s skeely art
Of navigating perils yet uncharted
While facing fears to daunt the stoutest heart.
I’d drop the lead to sound the straight and narrow,
Then trim the sail to cross the deep and wide.
I tacked between those vices best avoided
And inconvenient virtues cast aside.
With heavy swells my fortunes shifted likewise;
Grim hazards port and starboard lay abeam,
The heavens raining curses on intentions,
The bilges churning nightmares out of dreams.
I reckoned what the profit be, all told,
With contraband sole cargo in the hold.
The winds demanded clarity of purpose.
The waves enforced agility of stance.
Such times as I did lack a moral compass,
I’d trust my lucky star to lead the dance.
I’d journeyed far and found a sheltered harbor.
Dropped anchor and saw everything secured.
I took up pen to document my actions,
Then signed the log attesting to my word.
The voyage may have satisfied investors
Who only had in mind a single goal.
But was the profit garnered in the questing
Worth the price of forfeiting one’s soul?
A businessman may draft a bill of sale;
A captain guides his treasure through the gale.
Our first space pioneers had to fulfill this need.
They had to travel faster than light speed.
Without it, there would have been no space travel.
The amount of time required would have made it impractical.
This proved to be a difficult problem to tackle.
Our physicists and engineers worked very feverishly.
The results of all their labor you can see.
How do they do it? Don’t ask me!
It is a process with the greatest complexity.
Look out the port side window, and view with your eyes.
There is a yellow star comparable to our own sun’s size.
The third planet orbiting that star is Gamma Prime.
As the tour guide, I wish all of you passengers a good time.
Robert Pettit
August 31, 2012
For Nathan’s “Deep Space Odyssey” contest.
TO BE FREE
flag flaps
like a fresh sheet
on a chilly Winter day
red and white stripes
like the sound of sails
all fifty stars
stay in place
like battleships
this grand old flag
threaded with meaning
sold as a freedom wannabe
those stripes on frightened backs
the same stars both could see
for some resided level with their heads
others had stars in their eyes
like malignant scars
the flag continued its lengthy voyage
one day it had a dream
striped red lips almost smiled at the thought
we each look up
at the stars and stripes
patriotic flight
we balance on its wings
the wings of an eagle
the American dream
to be free
7/11/2017
free verse