Another gritty grimy old town with echoed din
who sees how many secrets it keeps within
where at day's end amid traffic's sound
some head for home some run around
with rain-washed windows in hotel rooms
whenever there I do roam
through wind-swept streets at midnight
and hold long-distance conversations on the phone
and that dirty old river forever flows
who knows how many places it goes
as the ships come in and the tide rolls down
some make it safe some run aground
and oh those winking blinking lights
filled with promise of earthly delights
will take you shake you
make you feel all right
Do you exist just to survive
or would you like to make decisions
to help your body thrive
Five years of endurance from the age of ten
nightly menu of mashed potato, cold roast meat
no greens no fruit,nothing else, if you didn't like the food it was hunger
There was not another thing to eat
Daily morning breakfast, nutritionally no better
a bowl of corn flakes and a cup of tea
Consumed in a household of two smokers
good health could never hope to be
Many coughs, colds, tired
and aching in the ears
Life a daily challenge
full of many fears
Boils upon the legs the head
often near the nose
Fatigue, fall asleep in class
a life of daily woes
Adversity has a purpose
it makes us stronger or we fall
Decisions to be made
when our backs are to the wall
And the decision that was made fifty years ago
turned his life around
Modified his eating patterns
the old days had now run aground
In his house there are no smokers
a large variety of orqanic greens, nuts and fruits
His exceptional state of well being reflects
the selection of his culinary pursuits
The rain is steadily falling on my sanctuary, barren trees drenched in rain, no other soul around, fir like me they have run aground…no sounds I hear but rain feeding the flowers, animals which call this place home….
The sun much like me is hidden behind the clouds, it too isn’t needed on thus earth no longer. others may see it shine, but yet don’t appreciate its beauty nor its presence anymore…
My home is here away from human connection, the deer, bison too are relaxing calmly in this blissful place… free from backs being turned away from my heart...mocking my words.
God has no time for me, I’ve come empty handed to church prayers are unheard, here I am seen and loved, by the wind, sky, now the time has come for “others to say their goodbyes”.
My mom said her goodbyes, so must I, at least nobody will hear or see my mistakes no more, go on with their “HOLY LIFE” no longer will I be a wife..”
Am I on an island launching bottles out to sea
beached at the waterline will someone rescue me
I'm drowning not waving as the boats go by
abandoned at high tide does anyone hear my cry
here am I sad to say writing messages in the sand
marooned a lonely castaway will somebody lend a hand
if I'm on an island will my ship come in
or has it run aground did it go down
with only thoughts of you to keep me alive
when will my ship ever arrive
here on an island sending signals from the shore
stranded high and dry will no one hear my call
found my freedom a big mistake I made
there's not another living soul around
loneliness the price I paid
and my tears are the only sound
if only my time I could rewind
but am I really on a deserted island
or is it only in my mind
My life's ship
My life is like a sailing ship that has sailed
The seven seas
To move along in my life ship I need a constant breeze
I have encountered storms that has thrown
My life ship around
Nearly ending in disaster I could have run aground
My life ship has been sailing for sixty years or more
Never touching land never to land on shore
I have had wonderful journey and my life ship is my friend
I hope that when I reach my safe harbour
I will moor up and my ship's life journey will end
NEW YEARS OLD WISHES
As each January comes around
It’s always the same, I’ve found
A feeling as if I’ve run aground
It’s time for me to heed the call
The strong need to change it all
Yet how long will it last this time
Maybe it is stamina, I am unsure
As my determination is so poor
I will promise change once more
But I suspect that it will not last
Feeling the shame of an icy blast
But the future never does rhyme
Wishes I make are ever the same
No longer to treat life as a game
To take the hit, and it will maim
Grit my teeth, summon resolve
The commitment I must involve
Treat this year as a steady climb
Raindrops in Early December
The sky dims its face
Depicting a wounded heart
Wounded by the pain of love
Trapped in the deepest pain
You have the heart to leave the bond of love
Love that has been planted in my heart
The turmoil of your love that feels like a fantasy
My little heart screams because of the pain
For years we have been at odds together
Love with millions of sparkling feelings
You once promised to always be faithful
But the road has run aground
Raindrops in early December shed tears
Flashes of lightning seem to destroy the soul
Your rusty sword of love stabs my chest
Go through everything sincerely
Surrender to God
May you be happy with him
Run Aground
Arr, Matey! Me ship has run aground,
In this shallow world, I search for character, but none to be found.
Through me spyglass, a foggy, distant world, unclear,
This incessant devil bird squawking in me ear.
A chest full of silver, gold, and jewels galore,
But what I treasure most is a love forevermore.
The platypus excels at evolution
And displays a super cool solution
For making his way amidst the muck,
He don't run aground. He don't get stuck.
Of this, the platypus would never dream
As a self-respecting monotreme.
Indeed, a platypus of station
Will employ electrolocation.
SNOW PATROL
It was late on Christmas night
All was silent and no sound
Santa Claus was running late
And he was in such a state
His sleigh had run aground
It was for all, a terrible plight
With more presents to deliver
With mince pies he was so full
The sleigh it weighed so much
All it needed was a lighter touch
So his reindeer again could pull
But so cold, he began to shiver
In the sky was a flashing light
Then a breakdown elf arrived
The elf soon fixed the sleigh
And then all were on their way
So relieved that they’d survived
And that it all turned out alright
I looked for you one last time; as the sun went down
I looked for you again; when I was about to run aground
Was that my guiding star; it, was nowhere to be found
In a sea of contention; you were never really around
But even still, as I look for you; the sun goes down
Two mighty boats beached
End of voyage reached
Captains’ judgement call
Rust consumes them all
Run aground and caught
Well-laid plans for naught
#1
The Perennial
On an overhang, where the mountain slopes gently towards the lowland and the sea
there is a crooked tree with long roots embracing the mountain
Is the plant an asp or a birch, the leaves are compact and sturdy
It has to be as it is the first who catches the winter wind or the salty haar from the sea.
It is also a tree that catches the first light of the day and the last
To see the disappearing day, the first to see how wonderfully clear our firmament can be.
This tree will not risk the indignity, of being dressed up like a tart
have gifts in the colourful wrapping of favour bought under duress and be thrown
on the waste heap when the party is over
This tree will not be an elegant mast on a clipper sailing to China and Ceylon and
one day run aground on the hardy coast of Norway and be sold off as planks.,
This tree is art because someone looked up and said, look
at this, its true art and has a natural beauty and emotion only great art can provoke.
Mysterious rumbling noises, I hear them
Wherever I am, I cannot escape the sound
Somewhat like zombies singing an old hymn
Or a loaded barge about to run aground.
Occasionally they will go away for a season
Then, just as suddenly, they will reappear
There seems to be neither rhyme nor reason
A friend suggested I’ve had too much beer
I laugh and refrain from disputing them, but
That can’t be the reason, since I don’t imbibe,
It appears these noises emanate from my gut
At least, as best I can, that’s how I’d describe.
A doctor will put a lantern down my throat
And, technically, take a good look around
So I suppose I’ll have to wait for his vote
As to the origins of this mysterious sound.
Written June 17, 2022
waiting in the silence
for the energy to run aground
yet what flotsam the surf gives up
it will have to keep
i always jetsom, i never lagan
Humpty Dumty, friends with superglue
are not always reality
reality does not always adhere
reality does not care
your freedom, illusions of the amaranth
i have no simpleton delusions, imagoes
i am afraid death the anodyne
eventually, every star consumes itself
Nemesis, my knowing smile
Ate, your mentor
she is behind the mirror waiting
as all ephemerals, you bore me
i enjoy the diestrus
remembering the notches, using other's vanities
every Blackwidow deserves a prince
the Prince of Pandemonium
San Blas 92 The Patient Stones
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.