Long Voyager Poems
Long Voyager Poems. Below are the most popular long Voyager by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Voyager poems by poem length and keyword.
"There is so much that you don't know..."
That is my sadness, and sorrow.
Carrion, drape about the crow!
River inferno, may ye flow...
O blistered heart, the truth ye see?
Care for a love in fancy-free.
Musician, write thy melody!
O constellation, guide the. sea.
Heaven and Hell, thy armies call!
Go to the battle, one and all.
Autumnal maiden, in the fall?
Tympani, beat. Funeral, pall.
Yellow eyed, young, and wild at heart?
O for the two who now must part!
Beast, pick thy prey. Archer, thy dart.
Melee, mechanic, taut and tart.
Doom, answer well the needs of fate!
Hie from the hinterland, O hate!
Golem and ghast, thus guard the gate!
Small is the mind to bad berate...
Silver as sunlight off the mirror?
Mercury, message. Road, just clear.
Voyager, trickle. Cliff, be sheer.
Doubt and dismay, and dole, be drear.
Rabid as thought in frenzied fine?
Dark fire, thy blossom. Stars, to shine.
O belladonna, be my wine!
Dynamite, explode. Death, we dine.
THE ETERNAL SLEEP
On the meandering course laid on the landscape of life,
journey began with promise to reach the vale of flower.
The voyager chasing remote butterflies in dreaming air
flew elated on the feathered wings of ecstasy awhile.
On the uphill path at the edge of hazy horizon obscure,
tired of futile pursuits I don’t know what lies far beyond.
The dying rays of the departing sun I see in twilight hours,
in my hollow sky a weary bird is keen to fly to its final nest.
The fading stars appear behind the falling curtain of night,
and crossing the clumps of gloomy cloud covering the moon
their distant shimmer descends as the last glimmer of dust.
On the frayed fringe moonbeam dances the dance of death.
The rhythm of this celestial symphony is now rippling in me
as I wait for the final call from the owner of abode of bliss,
where tormented soul will rest in depth of deathless silence
and on the deified lap of death I’ll sleep my eternal sleep.
March 3, 2019
An iridescent streak
bifurcates the obsidian
dome,
A incandescent voyager
accelerating through the
obscurity,
Relinquishing its grand,
celestial habitation,
To dissolve into a ephemeral,
luminous fragment.
Conflagrating magnificently
across the absolute infinity,
It manifests with fierce,
unadulterated dedication,
Exchanging its permanent,
prehistoric illumination,
To bestow an instantaneous
warmth upon our souls.
For what is preservation
within the remote cosmos,
Juxtaposed against this
singular encounter in your
presence?
I would joyfully witness the
ancient firmament
disintegrate,
To participate in this fleeting,
majestic trajectory.
Like that radiant anomaly, I
surrender my entirety,
Content to completely
dissipate, if our devotion
remains absolute.
Symbols like a feather
is important and meaningful
for the person who receives them
A white feather
I see a sign from the angels
from your loved ones in heaven
Like the souls of ours, meet on a wonderful day
A lonely feather floats freely,
like Voyager ... a man-made object
Not all meanings are meant to be clear at once
Patiently my friend, what you seek is in your heart
It's a lesson in everything
Angels are not imagination
There is much between heaven and earth
A true soulmate, but some people will never believe
Keep smiling and surely
the sun will shine through tomorrow
No language can express, it's all a part of a bigger plan
02.11.2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
* 3rd place in contest
She looked at me calmly opening her narrow lips
Luis the name brought an ache to my wounded ego
In my pride I had ended up shipwrecked in the rehab
...You can make it even when they all say you cant
I swallow my pride and prod,..
I like you Merc.. Can we be an item
Were the circumstances different yes
It's not a maybe or well see its a Yes
So my Journey is not in vain
You find the charmed ones now so often
With humans ever so accommodating
No unlike Peter Petreli I wont try flying
Unless am a hundred percent assured
I will land on safe shore where the waves
Beat ever so slowly and names like pirates
Voyager and black pearl are uttered
I have the soul; of a Sojourner
#Jewels of Time
I see it now
flying low
over silver-spumed waves.
I am a watcher
I can enlarge the picture
zoom in
look into bright midnight eyes
as if it were I
that propelled it.
Spreading bright foils
catching the billowing blows,
a clean swell-rigged clipper
sky-sailing sailor
tacking to gypsy winds.
Within its avian breast a magnetic compass
on a pivoting gimbal,
soon to make a terrible landfall.
For a ship came upon it
a craft arrayed in the guise of a cruel crocodile,
snagged from the air it snared the voyager.
A ship blighted by its own wake,
a very flowering of evil.
A wandering navigator brutishly used,
deckhands bundling broken wings
bound it as if a flopping fish,
gaffed its body open
to a hollow of hope.
I also recall a monstrous time
inside a crocodiles smile,
a time when poetry
was cut from my lips.
Yet here I am flying
in an airplane looking down
upon England,
following an albatross
only I can see.
Few crocodilians in London
yet more perilous reptiles there,
I shall have to take more care,
plot a fairy-tale revenge
with Peter Pan’s time-frozen statue.
At last to Paris
a windborne glide tracking a dream
of slow rowing wings,
there to dine with a restless ghost
who knows well enough
how dangerous monsters
can be
on land and sea.
There to restore myself
with Baudelaire.
to remake over
an imagined albatross of a life,
return it to humanity,
should it ever want to be
that flightless.
~~~~~
“Often to pass the time on board, the crew
will catch an albatross, one of those big birds
which nonchalantly chaperone a ship
across the bitter fathoms of the sea.
Tied to the deck, this sovereign of space,
as if embarrassed by its clumsiness,
pitiably lets its great white wings
drag at its sides like a pair of unshipped oars.
How weak and awkward, even comical
this traveler but lately so adroit -
one deckhand sticks a pipestem in its beak,
another mocks the cripple that once flew!
The Poet is like this monarch of the clouds
riding the storm above the marksman's range;
exiled on the ground, hooted and jeered,
he cannot walk because of his great wings.”
- Charles Baudelaire
Ford score and...Chevy
five years ago,
my Model A strapping
handsome big bro,
(who sped like one
speeding Triumph font lee, crow),
wing, & swooping Thunderbird, with
bold face observers whistling Geronimo
(Holy Jeep), this meant war
whooping Comanche
decked out as armadillo
kicking up red feathery colored dust devils
rivaling the fastest Alfa Romeo
(while choking, gagging, loo
sing russett sputum
flecked with true grit
mouthful size of Colorado)
easily mistaken for masked Zorro
speeding across rugged
terrain of Durango,
ah recall and reminisce,
and if cup ear just so
can still hear (albeit faintly),
a toy Yoda Echo
wing nsync with
Lake Woebegone prairie
home companion, the little known no
nonsense visiting drag queen racer
Noah N. Gin poe
cur face (born that way)
originally from Malibu, a beau
teaful Corvair with Corsair, now resembling
groveling growling Gremlin, in slow-mo
what with his Smashface
ugly enough to scare Apollo
the ghost of David Buick,
a poor entrepreneur, who
never did make good profit re: Coupe,
and could not Dodge nor shoo
away, the Stealth fearsome curse
of Aries nibble Viper moo
ving fast as greased lightning,
(whereby an Eagle Talon
flashed like Spitfire akin too
Austin-Healey Sprite)
full Caprice out of the
(sir really yon) blue
celestial vault outer limits, hue
mans avoided only
brave Caravan Voyager Goo Goo
Doll dared (only fools rushed in, ignoring Fiat,
where angels feared to tread), a Motley Crue
shielded with Fisker Karma (credit),
no matter last payments way overdue
sought out (with Escort
in tow) - actually two
yup, that ever elusive Holy Grail,
thus needed to Focus with much ado
about nothing, while
brows scrunched – mad as Jew
pitter by Zeus snorting like
angry red Taurus bulls - do
tee fully kicking up Tempo
like nobody's business ready
to serve their Mazda at heart,
a Legacy Sub (burr rue)
tricked up as a gnu!
Half April days were forfeit by the moon
When the cold flames alit from the sky,
Dry leaves are consumed by the whirl,
Gone and drowned to the dark bottom.
A woman was resting on a river bank,
Her hand idling over her bosom,
Thousand night eyes watching her
and flowing with the dim water curse.
My query ripped the stillness
Of the hushing cicadas on the trees:
“Do you think love is like this river?
Eager to travel by open seas?
My heart flows like the fire trail
Of the falling star in the endless sky.”
She blinked and I saw a tear,
A tear I saw before she said:
“Then you do not love me, woe me…”
And she threw a pebble on the water…
“This is like a kiss and nothing has changed…”
The waters flowed among the weed…
The waters flowed among the weed…
“My love is like a lake with cold waters
Waiting the sun to rise on the horizon,
The swallow can hunt on my surface
for the darting fishes without success:
in my depth there is a siren’s melody:
which voyager will be too bold to hear?
The sky is blue as the virgin cloth
And like the mirror-like surface of my soul.”
I leaned and breathed on her lips,
and when she breathed on my lips
The air was cool and her heart silent –
But on her eyes, water lilies I could see.”
Form:
In the thicket condensed in faraway desolate island
silence is the petrified breeze that forgets to blow.
Night drizzles on twilight gleam, darkens the sand.
The moon, a lone voyager across stellar satin sky,
sprinkles silver dust of solitude on the canopy high,
dribbles with patina of leaves on the ground below.
Serene sea sees the show of barren solitude grand.
I drink the elixir of solitude as mist of time engulfs me,
my heart beats in the tune of serenading still delight,
the mute music turns into rippling pulses of ecstasy.
My mind is the dusk that soaks the setting sun’s hue,
that’s what the island called life waits always to view.
As sound of the wheels of time fades in desolate night,
in placid depth of inner sea I hear my soul speak to me.
August 18, 2018
Edited September 15, 2020
Contest : Completely Your Choice (9)
Sponsor : Brian Strand
The Royal Australian Navy once had a fine destroyer.
It was a ship of the Daring Class named the HMAS Voyager.
This destroyer was tragically sunk in February of 1964.
That infamous event occurred at Jervis Bay.
Eighty-two of Voyager's crew were killed that day.
The carrier Melbourne hit the Voyager and split her in two.
The Melbourne also rammed an American ship too.
This Australian carrier is something we no longer see.
She was sold and scrapped, and is now part of history.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem