"excelsior" poems - Hello Poetry

Earthquake Poem 3/5/2014 What do you suppose an earthquake does? Sure, there are the shakes and scares, Seismic shifts accompanied by tectonic tears. But ditch this global perspective, Figure out what rips those ripples, detective. Let’s see you pound at the ground. Hit it hard, ‘til you hear a heavy sound. Is that enough to fissure some asphalt? Tell me, could you bring this spinning planet to a sudden halt? I can’t say for sure, what an Earth-quake does. Though I’ve been a victim, Earth isn’t where my quake was. An Earth-less earthquake, On a planet whose name I’ve learned to forsake. Wynn’s world wandered ‘round someone else’s orbit: Drawn to its gravity like grapes grow on a vine; Brightened by its solar system’s shining smile, so divine; Emotional tides tugged in and out; Guided by its mysterious moon’s midnight meandering about. That’s right – an orbit with its own time flow. Time that could stomp its heels and steal a spotlight, Time that could manipulate a moment like jello, mayonnaise, or some other squishy substance, Time that could crash course, while standing still, Time that could reveal something you never knew. What do you suppose an earthquake does? A quake could be anything that makes you shake. Think of quaking in fear, as an unknown figure draws near. Think of a jittery heart, that’s been bit by a bullet. Internal tears, think of organs bleeding, Think of needing, solid ground, but falling and time keeps stalling. When a quiet little quiver promises to deliver, its slight shock signal straight through the middle. When a molten magma core fizzes its manic madness, like a shaken soda. When an epic eruption carries out its upward excelsior, Rejecting the spinning without a stop. Oh, the mountains will tumble, The hills and valleys, they’ll crumble, And gurgle in the raging rivers’ rumble, As volcanoes churn out violent bubbles, Stirring up all kinds of troubles, For one person’s personal planet. For one person’s personal planet, These violent forces of nature can’t compare to an Earth-quake, When the ground you stand on begins to break, When you realize your senseless stability is fake. When that little quake knocks your Earth awake, It’s reality coming alive to take, and take, and take, Because for love, you put everything at stake. What do you suppose an earthquake does? I’ll tell you – it leaves a wrecked world with a cracked core and scorched surroundings. Just because. Just because, love on Earth always comes with a quiet little quake.

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Mar 6, 2014

Mar 6, 2014 at 1:44 AM UTC

PseudoPoet

Earthquake

Earthquake Poem 3/5/2014 What do you suppose an earthquake does? Sure, there are the shakes and scares, Seismic shifts accompanied by tectonic tears. But ditch this global perspective, Figure out what rips those ripples, detective. Let’s see you pound at the ground. Hit it hard, ‘til you hear a heavy sound. Is that enough to fissure some asphalt? Tell me, could you bring this spinning planet to a sudden halt? I can’t say for sure, what an Earth-quake does. Though I’ve been a victim, Earth isn’t where my quake was. An Earth-less earthquake, On a planet whose name I’ve learned to forsake. Wynn’s world wandered ‘round someone else’s orbit: Drawn to its gravity like grapes grow on a vine; Brightened by its solar system’s shining smile, so divine; Emotional tides tugged in and out; Guided by its mysterious moon’s midnight meandering about. That’s right – an orbit with its own time flow. Time that could stomp its heels and steal a spotlight, Time that could manipulate a moment like jello, mayonnaise, or some other squishy substance, Time that could crash course, while standing still, Time that could reveal something you never knew. What do you suppose an earthquake does? A quake could be anything that makes you shake. Think of quaking in fear, as an unknown figure draws near. Think of a jittery heart, that’s been bit by a bullet. Internal tears, think of organs bleeding, Think of needing, solid ground, but falling and time keeps stalling. When a quiet little quiver promises to deliver, its slight shock signal straight through the middle. When a molten magma core fizzes its manic madness, like a shaken soda. When an epic eruption carries out its upward excelsior, Rejecting the spinning without a stop. Oh, the mountains will tumble, The hills and valleys, they’ll crumble, And gurgle in the raging rivers’ rumble, As volcanoes churn out violent bubbles, Stirring up all kinds of troubles, For one person’s personal planet. For one person’s personal planet, These violent forces of nature can’t compare to an Earth-quake, When the ground you stand on begins to break, When you realize your senseless stability is fake. When that little quake knocks your Earth awake, It’s reality coming alive to take, and take, and take, Because for love, you put everything at stake. What do you suppose an earthquake does? I’ll tell you – it leaves a wrecked world with a cracked core and scorched surroundings. Just because. Just because, love on Earth always comes with a quiet little quake.