Long Whirrs Poems
Long Whirrs Poems. Below are the most popular long Whirrs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Whirrs poems by poem length and keyword.
I set the date
Hope I am not too late
To save some souls
From chilly fate
The year of our Lord
Dial one nine, one two
From my home-based lab
After locking in-situ
A gyro spins
A crackle, a flash
I land on the deck
With a terrible crash
Oh souls that surround me
Running here and around
Never notice my vehicle
Though designed to astound
The floor is now jaunty
My breath like fresh mist
The critical moment I fear
I have missed
Make fast to the lifeboats
Although they are few
I frantically seek out
The captain and crew
"You can double the numbers.."
I cry with a shout
It's too late for they're pushing
The final boat out
I reach for my notepad
Complete these last lines
'Crisp bright morning air
Yet the darkest of times'
A note to myself
Set my machine now to 'home'
So she whirrs and she crackles
Takes instructions, alone
My vain hope is she
Meets me in an earlier state
An inventor incumbent
To change the course of this fate
Now my destiny sealed
By dark ice of the sea
As resigned I join singing;
Nearer My God to Thee
Fast forward to now
Deep-sea divers explore
The old shipwreck is claimed
By the ocean once more
Yet a mystery beckons
Cameras peer through the grime
Uncatalogued cargo
Out of luck, out of time
"I have been a stranger in a strange land." Bible, Exodus 2:22
The compass whirrs.
North toward rock, south toward sand.
East toward ice, and west toward river.
Like a game of spin the bottle I take a chance on north,
run my hands over stone and pebble,
the spine of life a twisting snakeskin, shedding.
The compass whirrs
as words and winds uproot me to the south. Dust ridden,
arid. Earth sizzles, a roast overdone. My flaking skin
drenched in sweated drought.
The compass whirrs
as those years of crinkling sand dune heat melt
somehow into eastern snow. You don’t understand
how or why or when those summers became leaves that
fall, became sleet upon which you slip, recklessly, helplessly, toward time’s
splash. The final plunge pool.
Now, western waters offer a mirror,
sometimes murky, sometimes crystal,
and still, the compass whirrs, as you realise
that strange land - your body.
The stranger - you.
She whips and whirrs, wild and wanton
Gaia’s grasses nearly come out of the earth
She is in a frenzy, stirring things up and away
At first it is scarves and paper plates, then there is an eerie calmness.
A quiet, deadly, silence and a black sky at two in the afternoon.
She is back, sounding like a freight train, choosing her victims.
She begins flinging cattle, logs, and sheds.
There goes the silo! Twirling up into the sky like a top.
On the Richter scale she is a four; and she is damned proud of it.
Which house will she take? She chooses her victims helter skelter.
Her anger and rage are in full blown whipping and swirling stage now.
She is diabolical, ruthless, unforgiving. She is the wind.
Apricot sunrise that changes
Fast turning to gold
Whispy angels' wings dot a blue sky
Fog shawls the forest bold
Coyotes yap yap in the woods
One lone lookout crow caws
As the roosters crow the sun up
The sun wakes diamonds' awe
A glistening dew caresses all;
Lingers; kisses leaf and grass
Pecan's silhouette dark design
Crows caw increase with sass
What a blessed morning 'pon the porch
A helicopter whirrs
Off at a distance, the sound of blades
Close by birds voices stir
Doves coo, crickets sound, birds chirp songs
As stillness encases
Not a breeze moves a leaf or twig
Down at the old homeplace
Eight decades past world war two was at its last gasp.'
Parades were to folow.' Nazi Germany was beaten hollow
Like a drum..'Some scenes echo.' And make me dumb my
Mouth, silent my eyes observe the violence shaky screened
Whirrs my mind.' On the real actions of nazis and horrifc
Finds.' Humans dehumanised stacked like sides of pork
Or cords of wood.' The simple pathos alone talks..Today i hear of nazis again.' I see one was feted in Canada and
That two leigions there gained.' New lives and citezenship
Can this really be.' Then zelensky sends troops to Isreal i
See.? Meanwhile (yuroslaf hunka) the ss soldier he elevated.' anongside trudeau.' Both looking elated' clapping
Hands this in parlieament setting' well after their earlier
Meet and greet and narration.' He was a freedom fighter
Against the ussr.? I beg your pardon.' And I state I am no
Czar.' Of lineage or of lies.' And the truth?? Well thats been
Battered.' Just as eight decades later.' With Ukraine really in
Tatters.' And claims of nazi elements.? Whats with historys wheel? No matter the narrative.' Whats real is 'still real' I
Can't trust drainsteeam-media..To tell the time of day.' I conject on all their outrageous info but hey ' even should i
Be told California has gone rouge? Letting in American
Warships to attack America.?? Do you think that story could be told.? Yet when ships sit in Sevastopol i'm told
Crimea might get invaded 'and they'll soon be speaking
Russian.?? But I thought they did? Whats this all in aid of, kids?
Well it can't be the truth? I re-check on history, and the Crimean war fought in 1853.'
Raving gang!
Nation in a mirthful mood,
Whirrs of discordant triumph,
Eyes steaming noxious passion.
Look about!
Revelry boils over;
Death in the embrace of a squall
Eddies skyward; the stench chokes.
The rabble!
Itch for fun in filthy holes—
Slide down the slit of vipers.
The wild stares, chilled in a pout.
Look atop!
Gaunt vultures swarm in wait,
Craning with graveyard muteness;
Keen eyes, sharp claws, ready to pluck.
Joyous gang!
Rainbow spray, deep emotions,
Dewdrops glistening at dawn
Awaiting the summer sun.
© 2015 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
Ice, ice, baby
You pour me over maybe
A straw to pierce the depths
Inhale the deepest breaths
A fancy glass all fluted
In milky joy I'm rooted
A scoop of whizzed banana
Tastes of pure Americana
The decor is all flashy
Just white and red, not trashy
All dressed up in your nifties
Time travel to the fifties
For teens on scooters suited
All sweetness undiluted
A jukebox in the corner
Soothes away all worldy trauma
Drop a dime to stick a tune on
Whirrs and clicks to drop the best song
Grab yourself a Coca-Cola
Dance in lights from the Rock-Ola
Gals all twirls and frilly knickers
Dudes in shiny winkle pickers
There's an innocence and beauty
As they jive to Tutti Frutti
How we'd love to travel back there
Leaving every burden and care
Just an evening sure to thrill ya
Taste of ice-cold pure vanilla
Summer arrives in golden light,
Mountains shed their snowy white.
The river moves with joyful gleam,
Shining bright in the sun’s beam.
Through rocky beds, she winds with ease,
Nourishing earth in tender peace.
Quenching the thirst of Pines and Firs,
Thriving the bushes around her shore.
Seasons shift, and colors grow,
Tree tips shimmer, blossoms show.
Daisies dance in meadows wide,
Sweet peas bloom with gentle pride.
Roses bask in warming rays,
Grapevines promise fruitful days.
Stellar Jays call, loud and free,
Swooping bold from tree to tree.
River whirrs in rhythmic sound,
Phoebes dart and skim the ground.
Gathering meals with steady flight,
Feeding their young in shimmering light.
A mink appears as dusk unfolds,
Gliding quickly through night’s hold.
The midnight bear roams wild and deep,
Claiming the land while others sleep.
By the river’s edge, my spirit sings,
Breathing life where nature springs.
The last plasma puff of the engine invites them out
Of the vessel, wearing refrigerated high-tech suits
Equipped complete with claw-like studs gripping cracked grout,
Fighting for balance against the gusts in their pursuit.
Tsal pulls out the holo-tablet to map their position
And consult the travel plan. The air crackles to life
At the rod in his hand's and the one on his chest's intersection
Showing in script and diagrams what once was humanity's hive.
A step on a fish bone draws a snap which pulls
His eyes downwards then around the oily dirty landscape
Where lay more bones from different creatures whose lives were culled
By a slow death they'd tried in vain to escape,
Probably the last of each of their species to have braved heat,
Thinning air, toxins in solid, liquid and gas form everywhere.
Tsal thought of who'd ate whom last at the eve of total defeat
As lives became meatless skeletons after plants had left here.
Ok! Back to finding the once supreme masters of this rock
Who built the cranes surrounding this now barren and dry seabed,
As if adorning the grave of many a beast. With some luck,
The image in his hand lights red as it hovers over a broken bone head.
(c) Nyonglema
Let's all go out and support Earth Hour on 28th March 2015 and yearly!...let's make this silence of whirrs and buzzes a little LOUDER.
The succulent awaits the sun
That pink streak now rising
Stretched across a gray blue sky
It's magenta blossoms abiding
Change happens very swiftly each
morn, the sky's color shifts
Now sand like the ocean's shore
That constantly pitches and drifts
Oh! The stillness fills the soul
Colors flash upon a screen
Beauty displayed blesses the spirit
Like the world viewed in dreams
The roosters still rest enjoying
the cool, not a sound stirs
Songbirds rest within their nest
No dove arises with whirrs
An illuminating glow appears
Upon the wispy clouds
Palest pink upon the horizon
Master painter is proud
A red fireball sets the pines aflame
Dark silhouettes exposed
Fan brushed clouds etched above
Like spring's melting stained snow
The heat and humidity will
flood the air~overwhelm
Great is the time spent in the cool
Within the master's realm
Finis'