Long Yachts Poems

Long Yachts Poems. Below are the most popular long Yachts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Yachts poems by poem length and keyword.


China Clipper

Listen and you can hear the wind whisper 
the name of a lost ship and its skipper.
The wind’s name is Favonius, winged god
His sotto voce is but a whimper.

Gentle breeze doth tell of China Clipper 
Bound back toward London by English shipper
Lost from sight ten days out of Adelaide
for all those involved  a real fear gripper.

Fast  Lammermuir was used in the tea trade,
Built by W. Pile’s Company twas then made
Clipper’s capacity a  thousand tons   
With errant compass windjammer now strayed

Off course by three degrees vessel now runs,                                         
till Mate’s use of sextant now captain stuns
Ocean current is also a surprise
This phenomenon Captain Bell now shuns

The current wants to go counter clockwise
 Loss of ship’s control is what this implies
 Sails unable to give pull to the right
 though steersman at wheel with strength vainly tries

Lammermuir was in a terrible fight
Not turning right was a dangerous plight
All hands on deck knew their situation
Hard battle continued both day and night
                                                 
Exactly where was their lost location 
Question captain sought with much vexation
Average speed of Jammer was fifteen knots 
Get back on course or it’s their damnation

No welcome sight of other ships or yachts
Current’s tying captain’s stomach in knots
Break free now or else certain death will come
Possibility gives worrisome thoughts.

New day same latitude they’d started from
A three hundred mile circle left all numb
From circling current they couldn’t break free
Trying  all things they refused to succumb.

Lighten ship over the side went the tea
Sails pulled harder still that wasn’t the key
Rear stern chaser was next without effect
Flying, scared lady raced over the sea

Caught fast in a maelstrom of no escape
Swirling in circles of concentric shape
Ever decreasing circumference toward hole
Ever increasing speed toward yawing gape

West wind speaks no more of piteous sight
Wraps wings to cover eyes from ship’s bad plight
Finis, finis, Lammermuir sails no more
Ending day ends in blanket of black night.



Distance To London From Adelaide is:
10110 miles / 16270.47 km / 8785.35 nautical miles
                                       
Distance To Shanghai From Adelaide is:
4706 miles / 7573.57 km / 4089.4 nautical miles
Form: Rubaiyat


Fog Horn On the Neva

FOG   HORN   ON   THE   NEVA

Fog horn on the far off  Neva  dock
A  canal  bridge to open and  unlock:
Today I heard  its  sound 
Unmistakable  note found
Implanted down in my head, 
Coming today a word long unsaid
Across the railroad tracks  it calls 
To me through cracks in walls 
And half-closed lattice  windows,
Across the shadows  and  meadows
From far away in the salt water - 
An ocean-bound  huge transporter .

Took me back  to  porridge oats
And blanketless  beds with cold coats, 
Sharing a pillow  with gran and mum
In a cold unheated tiny bedroom -
But warm as only a mother’s arm can be -
Listening on foggy nights  with me
-To horns open Tyne’s swing bridge  old,
And in foggy winter days cold
-To lost ships off  Cullercoats  moan 
Trying to find the walls of stone,             
The welcoming piers of heaven:
Sandy river’s  saving haven.

I was taken aback to be taken back
Thus, on my  hustling  life’s track
I forget the real roots.   I need 
To recall from what did I proceed, 
For  often does my boat get tossed  
And  in  the fog  I am  sometimes lost.

The Horn’s lament  is familiar 
Like a  family voice or a prayer,
As a bird recognizes its mate’s call
No  need to ask what it is at all.
It is friendly.  To  it I return. 
To hear it  I yearn. 
Like  my  mother’s laugh,
Like grandfather’s cough -
I Know it like  my own face,
It is easy to retrace.

As I walk on Nevsky Prospekt
Turning back the pages of neglect,
I hear it in the depths of my heart.
It reverberates  as a note apart
And I feel  it in  the mist 
Of time.  It insists.  I have missed 
Its plaintive call  for so long.
As a salmon returns where he belongs 
To his birth river on the foam
I am drawn inexorably  home.

Bustling  Tyne ships are now gone.  
Only pleasure yachts that leisurely yawn.
No  battleships or  tankers to see,
No river smells of sweat and tears salty, 
But the horn’s fossilized  lament  remains 
In sand-banks  and sea-lanes
And memory banks retraced :
Memories never to be  to erased.

Life’s  mist becomes  too dense.
Guide  me in the fog thence.
Lead me to back to reality.
The horn is searching for me 
From the past through  the  cracks
And lattice of my old bridge tracks,
Opening my mind to echoes of the past,
Holding my soul  sound and fast.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member War On the Poor

They wage war on the poor
Selling their souls what for
But for gluttony and greed
Dissension is what they breed
Harmony and discord
A duality we can't afford
People die on the street
Chilled to the bone, no heat
No bread, no bed
So they commit suicide instead
And the system is so corrupt
A melting pot is ready to erupt
Boomers failed the youth
Doomers birthed who know the truth
16.07 is the living wage
But 7.25 has us locked in a cage
And we work hard to line their pockets
Yachts, mansions, pensions, and rockets
Racial tension is their weapon
So we don't collectively unify and step in
They say work hard and achieve American dreams
But the reality is not what it seems
Connections grant privilege to the rich like royalty
As they demand we stand for the flag and show loyalty
I'm tired of being a stepping stone and I'm not alone
And this is what we've been shown
Epstein didn't kill himself we know
Another death to protect those in power and another low
America grows darker by the hour
So in a moment of clarity
There is no peace and prosperity
This is a raw deal and we need a green new deal
Because I'm tired of being a spoke on the wheel
Illiteracy is on the rise and that's our demise
Because they can feed us their lies
They blame us and claim we have no ambition
But survival is the majority's mission
Stuck paycheck to paycheck until we're dead
And those who care get shot in the head
I beg you to put your hand on your chest
Against your beating heart are we doing our best
Laws against sleeping in the car, sleeping on the sidewalk
These don't fix the problem but we can't talk
Because they balk and say you should have done better
Anything to lick the boots of the debtor
But despite all of my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage
Soon to be a forgotten footnote, a faded page
And that wheel is going to keep turning
As American lives go up in flames we're burning
But that hatred is twisting deep inside
And revolution is what we need if I must confide
The system is built on a foundation of failure, it's broken
But our passion and fury has been awoken
For this is our watershed moment to stave off calamity
After discouraging decades of enmity
So if they must wage war on the poor
We'll wage war on a system we abhor

HIV: The Capitalist Virus

They said you came from chimpanzees—
That deep in some African jungle
You leapt across species,
A silent hunter cloaked in blood.

But we have lived with chimpanzees
For tens of thousands of years.
We shared forests,
We shared meat,
We shared mythologies.
Why now?

They claim you're a natural disease—
But if that were true,
Why does nature not offer a cure?
Polio fell. Smallpox vanished.
Yet you—since 1981—
Have danced above the heads
Of even our greatest minds.

You are not nature’s design.
You are manmade silence.
You are a disease of profit,
A political invention,
A capitalist experiment gone global.
You were born in the shadows
Of white laboratories
Fueled by Cold War paranoia,
By the greed of corporations
And the prejudice of empires.

You made kings of pharmaceutical companies
And slaves of the sick.
You are not a virus.
You are a business model.

Billions have been spent.
Trillions earned.
You made markets out of mortality.
You made luxury yachts
From the suffering of mothers.
The cure?
Buried beneath patents,
Guarded by legal walls
And the blood of the voiceless.

If the world can send robots to Mars,
Edit genes,
Simulate universes—
Why can’t it cure a virus
With a mapped genome
And decades of study?

The answer is clear:
Because your existence
Feeds the engines of greed.
Because a cured patient
Is less profitable
Than a permanently treated one.

And you dare—
You dare to point your trembling finger at Africa,
The continent where life began,
And say: “There. That is where I was born.”
Lies.
The first known case?
The USA, 1969.
A teenager.
No jungle.
No monkey.
Just silence.

You demonized a continent
To distract from your laboratories.
You blamed the poor
To protect the rich.
But truth, like water, always finds a crack.

And now—
The world is watching.
The veil is lifting.
Young scientists are rising
Not for profit,
But for justice.
For healing.
For the truth.

Your days are numbered,
HIV.
Not because you are strong—
But because your creators
Can no longer contain the storm they sparked.
And when the truth stands,
No lie—
No corporation—
No empire—
Can withstand its weight.

We see you.
We name you.
We end you.

The Wicked

They want to cast spells through the songs they sing 
Subliminal mind control of those who buy their wicked cd’s
Their music has no meaning It won’t be a *hit
Remember Satan is the king of all tricks 
A way to make money and increase their success 
Satan takes control of your life it’s on destruction and death 
You won’t know wrong or right
The truth Satan will conceal from your sight
They boost and brag about the riches that Satan has brought into their life
Never trust anyone, you could be their next sacrifice 
Go home to mansion, yachts and f*ck your life
They sage to remove spells, curses and bad spirits with smoke
Can you feel the lump in your throat, Satan who thinks you’re a joke 
It will remove those evil spirits or demons, they say 
The only hope is to pray ??
Don’t play those Satanic games with his crew
When Satan comes no begging 
Satan comes for your mind,body and soul 
He’s like a leprechaun chasing his gold
He gives you your wants, needs and desires 
Never forget Satan is the king of all liars 
Sh*t ain’t natural, it ain’t right 
Satan fell from heaven to steal your eternal life from Christ 
Don’t play with God, pray and stay strong 
They trying to test your faith
Big mistake…dead wrong 
Love God don’t be fake 
Gods always on time never late 
They can’t resonate with your high vibrations that’s what they hate
Everybody prosecuting you for telling the truth 
The wicked pray upon the elderly and the youth 
Satan never stays to hear the truth or hear the righteous speak 
His body gets numb, his body becomes weak 
Never ignore Gods prophecy 
Gods the only one to give you life for eternity 
I don’t care if you’re a saint or a sinner 
With God you’re always a winner 
Following God is simple even for the beginner 
Christianity was shoved down our throats 
Shackled and chained; with no hope 
Don’t listen to the wicked lies they tell 
Straight line to hell 
They’re recruiting souls for their master
Your soul is worth more then gold and that’s what matters 
Using idols, witchcrafts, sex, voodoo and hoodoo too
They’ll try anything to amuse and use you
The wicked are weak and will easily follow 
Because there hearts are empty, weak and hollow!
Form: Rhyme


In Pursuit of Happiness

Happiness, happiness, happiness
The one thing we all seek
What does it really mean
The million tonnes of gold we hoard
Or the millions of cash stashed in a bank’s vault
Fleets of expensive cars cruising the streets
Or diamond ornaments glittering for all to see
Big parties on yachts and clouds just to please
Or a program on tevee just so they may see who it really is
All these yet at the end of the day the heart is still not at ease
The look within doesn’t satisfy nor please
So what really is missing
Happiness surely does exist
And the truth is that there isn’t a price to it
Just a smile and a honest heart spreads the enthusiasm with ease
Hearts can’t be bought but friendships can be bribed
It’s a choice we all must make
To live at ease in adequate means
Or to cheat and connive to acquire wealth built of lies
At the end of it all, the only room big enough is the one in your soul
At the end of the day 
...the only compliment worth to be heard is that which you give yourself
The only true best friend one can have is the one in the mirror
For with that friend is where happiness begins
How can you love others if you can’t love yourself
How can I honestly appreciate others if I can’t appreciate myself
How can they find happiness if they don’t know what it means
Happiness is the only thing that the blind can see 
...better than the ones who see
Happiness is the only thing that the deaf can hear 
...better than those who hear
Happiness activates the limbs of the handicapped
While those appropriately moulded still don’t function efficiently in it
Happiness is a destination to which no one can cheat
For it requires a sincere pass in each and everyone’s mind and heart
You may cheat me with your smile
But you can’t cheat the you inside
It’s not about me, it’s not about us...It is about you
This reality is a syndicate for your happiness
Question is, do you recognise it
You can afford to buy off all your past
And keep it under lock and throw away the keys
What matters is now
...for it is here that happiness is to be found
Looking back only presents regrets
Looking ahead only presents worries
It is only when you are happy that tomorrow promises to be a blessing
Form: Narrative

Salted Saturation

Four, six, or seventeen tulip buds grinning. Of course not on a salt marsh. Leave that alone. Misted aromas of ancestral graves should be cared for not dug but if a slug us in power then a lemon woman could do much damage to lochs, lands, fields and mountain so do not discuss paperwork with a tiny dog whose obligations are merely to dress in a fur coat. Is the sheer fornication of the environment that is of great concern at this time. Gaping holes can never be earth wombs so digging will produce an end to life. When chatting in a queue always question the mind set of the jaded eyes. Grasping concepts is often a difficulty when all intelligence is received from square entertainment sets. A lone lizard sits on an empty beach waiting for the strobes. The lights to take up and away. Patterns of time. Printed not. Yet in sound waves enjoyed freedom and thus gave birth to new inspiration through interdimensional beams. Often it is said that dancing a waltz with a frog is the best idea as sudden movements of tango could cause unintentional hopping movements. Such a slur. Sour are the sauces whose injection to meats cause secretions. And many a leopard printed ham fails to deliver wine to the exact specifications and timing. Yet a portly shrew arriving in a southern breeze can stop by multitudes of shopping centres in an urgent attempt to purchase grand golden negligées' for their mice partners who are asleep in fairytale yachts complete with pinnacles. Akin to a childhood book. Likened to a cartoon castle of great magic. But when a corvette changes it's clothes it is time fir the sputter sputter sounding cards of the fat dark purple bus. Who would want to eat toast in an elevated slime kitchen with Mr and Mrs cockroach and a laughing 900 foot long light beam of a snake. Portray not a plant as a plate. An apple as a card. And remain aloof to chard writing as this will amuse cats who thrive on milky truths. It is not a justified weapon if planted in a school. Scenes are unjustified and should be abolished. For fried is the skin like an egg in a pan. Turning tuning taking teachings. Yelping yachtsman. Gardeners. Xx booming balance braked xx snail diving henchmen xx saturation xx
Form:

Smith's Octopuses Party On Pontoons

Smith’s Octopuses Party On Pontoons 
                   Rumor Has It My Dear

Rumor has it my dear something spectacular is near
Bring your batik hats to our grand lavish scene
Wear flowing Kebeya robes
Let them flow in the air
We’re having our party upon the ocean
On pontoons made of bamboo notions
Flown in from Indonesia with crews
Planks will connect all the segments
Chris Christie will help with construction
Bridging rafts with bamboo shoots & roots 
(We understand he understands bridges)
Yachts will punctuate the festivities
Covered in purple red flowers with care
Tied to the floating swaying affair
McCartney and Sting will be there                       
Octopuses Garden is the theme
And Paul will bring Ringo to sing
The Clinton's and Bushes are on the list
Paparazzi will see if they kiss or do tricks
And who can resist our guests of honor
Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt                                                                             

      The main menu is set like this;
          Foie gras loco moco carne
          Matusaka beef
          Pheasant/Mallard breast roast
          Beluga Sevruga, Osetra caviar
          Goût de Diamants, Taste of Diamonds champagne
          Haute chocolate ice cream

This all seems like a dream
We pray that the weather holds up
The only waves we wish to see is from us
In the form of greetings and pleasantries
The party has been planned for ages
If storms should gather
It won’t really matter
We’re thankful 
The Royals, Mr.& Mrs. Smith are here
To weigh down pontoons and rafts
With billions in sacks of gold trinkets
Door prizes for sure, (sorry no doors), for those who attend
500 guests will arrive at the gala
A date with Mick Jagger and two jaguars 
Assured for each person as gifts guaranteed
Compliments of King & Queen Smith
Whose parties should never be missed 
A mystery guest, no surprise
A legend in his own mind
Mr. Trump and his hair might arrive
Since the pope is preoccupied  
We’ll sway to the music with fine company
All are welcome to our heavenly scene
At the octopuses party on the sea

                                       7/11/14 Rumor Has It contest

I Remember You Happiness

I remember you happiness
through the early aroma
  of grinded coffee beans
wafting gently from
the corner coffee shop
I remember you through
the freshly bread 'scent 
from the baker's sour rising yeast.

I remember you through 
musicians playing in piazas
through the buzzling sounds
of the city's cobbled alleys, and streets
Through the children's laughter
running to ice-cream parlours,
Tourists in front of Cathedrals
Old people chit-chatting on benches
on a mid-springtime breeze  .
I remember you happiness
through the eyes of happy couples
strolling along a sandy beach,
Through the Sunday Mass ,
a young priest on the altar
Through  morning picnics,cook-outs
'gatherings of relatives ,our dogs,and families.

I remember you happiness through
yachts birthing at the Valletta Grand Harbour,
through aeroplanes landing in foreign lands,
through cherished moments 
of Birthdays,Baptisms and Weddings,
A dinner shared with our closest friends.

Today Coffee Shops are empty
All Restaurants shut down,
Our island is a ghost town,
I am the saddest clown.
Today I hear no aeroplanes
The yachts not to be seen
Cathedrals,Churches closed
Yet the church bell chimes at noon,
Amd  I kneel on my knees.

Today there are no tourists 
All children locked inside
This Covid 19 virus
 is worse than any  Boogey-man
IIt brings tears to our eyes.

It kills our own people
Destroying human-kind.

Today the only way to see my friends
is virtually on skype,
My mothetr,brother ,father, I can't hug you
Just to keep you all alive.

Today the world's a scary place,
But together we would fight
With faith ,with love,
Determined like our ancestors
We'd leave this page behind.

We'd end this page as hereos
Compassionate and kind,
We'd  be the great survivors
A candle in the night.

We'd  learn from this dark moment
As dark as pitch black sky
We learn that above evil
Hope reighns, our sun would shine.

We learn to appreciate our loved ones,
Our  ancestors ,Our elderly,
Our island and this world
Together we would make it
Through distance hand-in -hand.

Premium Member At Dunkirk

At
Dunkirk,
where thousands
of stranded men
lined a bloody beach,
hope was draining with each
air strike delivered by the
unrelenting Germans’ aircraft.
Cold, starved, and injured men watched from shore -
their few rescue ships being bombed and sunk.

How must they have felt knowing their homeland
was so close – and yet so far away?
Horrific days passed when at last
brave civilians came with boats,
so it was that ten times
the number of those
not expected 
to live were
instead -
SAVED.

Aug. 16, 2017: Double Etheree written for 
 JPContest 6: WAR AND HEROISM Contest

 From Wikipedia:

The Dunkirk evacuation, code-named Operation Dynamo and also known as the Miracle of Dunkirk, was the evacuation of Allied soldiers during World War II from the beaches and harbour of Dunkirk, in the north of France, between 26 May and 4 June 1940.
The operation commenced after large numbers of British, French, and Belgian troops were cut off and surrounded by German troops during the Battle of France. In a speech to the House of Commons, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill called this "a colossal military disaster", saying "the whole root and core and brain of the British Army" had been stranded at Dunkirk and seemed about to perish or be captured.
On the first day only 7,669 men were evacuated, but by the end of the eighth day, 338,226 soldiers had been rescued by a hastily assembled fleet of over 800 boats. Many troops were able to embark from the harbour's protective mole onto 39 destroyers of the British Royal Navy, 4 Royal Canadian Navy destroyers,] and civilian merchant ships, while others had to wade out from the beaches, waiting for hours in shoulder-deep water. Some were ferried to the larger ships by what came to be known as the little ships of Dunkirk, a flotilla of hundreds of merchant marine boats, fishing boats, pleasure craft, yachts, and lifeboats called into service from Britain.  In his We shall fight on the beaches speech on 4 June, Churchill hailed their rescue as a "miracle of deliverance".
Form: Etheree

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