Long Angstdeath Poems
Long Angstdeath Poems. Below are the most popular long Angstdeath by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Angstdeath poems by poem length and keyword.
DEATH OF A PARISIENNE HOUSEMATE--Monsieur L'Vampyre
The death of me lay waiting in the dark
down candle lighted steps, before mine eyes
as my love held the blade, to leave the mark
upon my neck before I'd realize
yes I knew she was there, and filled with hate
a murderess if I'd do as she thought
but I had other plans, to change her fate,
and lay her deep with all the pain she'd wrought;
my derringer was cocked and firm in hand
and chambered were both silver tips for her
whilst I had in my mind, and had it planned
in self defense I'd fire, be as it were.
just as her wolf man died the night before
from mine own hand behind her bedroom door!
(less of ****** he was humping for.)
And how she cried as he drew his last breath
I nearly had compassion for her spell,
forgetting how they'd made my life a death
and that his soul was borned straight out from hell
but grabbed she then my pearly handled knife
my very favorite blade of cutlery
I used in gutting pigs, or end the life
of anyone who'd do a wrong to me;
So down theses cellar steps she's led the chase
welll knowing I would have to end her days,
lest she could beat my play, and save her face
and then convince the gendarmes of my ways!
I heard her breathing Paris, her sweet sound,
but couldn't place the point where she'd be found
for silver tips to put her in the ground.
The creaking of each wooden step gave sway
as I tried to step lightly down the stair
until the last was stone, and had no play
she held her breath, and silence filled the air!
The shadows from the candle's dancing flame
there on the wall made nothing for a clue
so stepped I through the dim, to stalk my game
and then I felt the swish my blade can do!
She missed her mark, but cut my sweated skin
enough to give more credence to my tale
and fired I silver tips, through satin thin
and to her heart--you should have heard her wail!
She died as she had lived, a fool for me--
and looked too sweet for gentlemen to see,
And so I beat her one more time for free!
DAMNABLE DEATH OF A DAISYV
Can the sky cry?
Can the sun have fun?
Can the stars have scars?
And can I have a heaviness in my heart lifted?
Because there are too many hoards being gifted
But given the wrong present to the wrong recipient
My heart is heavy with the death of every daisy
And as we all know each lily can be lazy
Can that pigeon light upon an old man’s hand
As a sign that we all are abusing the land?
Kids are killed and need a tracking device
And tell the world the ozone layer is paying the price
Tell the Russians to keep shoveling more coal
When we could let the wind be our savior and our goal
The turbines may turn and the engines may roar
But I tell you all that oxygen is carbon dioxide’s whore
Diesel, bio-fuel, gasoline or petrol
And the thing this planet really needs is soul
Soulfulness to urge tears from a child’s mother’s mother
Soulfulness to go to war and lose your second brother
Soulfulness to spread around so everyone can dig the sound
The sound of soulfulness should be heard all around
Then maybe instead of killing we can dance at a ball
Two hearts who once had a chance at it all
So let the soul sounds of the sacred be sung all around
And on that holy day let roses for luck be hung all around
Can the sky cry?
Not anymore than I can fly
Can the sun have fun?
Not when people can walk around with an un-concealed gun
Can the stars have scars?
Only if mankind could make it to one and bring with the ten thousand polluting cars
Since we’ve already marred the surface of the merry moon and Mars
Oh, and by the way it wouldn’t hurt the planet but it might put you in a better mood
Tonight when you eat overpriced beef consider the starving who have no food
©2011...phreepoetree
DEATH WAS THE SECRET AND DOPE WAS THE PRIZE
We had so much back then to apologize for
A thousand things, perhaps even more
There was the broken, the smashed and much of the cracked
We did a lot of damage and that’s a fact
Most stood transfixed on the destruction being done
But they were just bystanders blinded by the sun
And when their eyes were no longer shut what did they see?
They saw collateral damage and people like me
As Hansel and Gretel we followed the path of tears
Because for years it’s that kind of regret that adheres
One doesn’t simply say dry your eyes and it’s over
That would be akin to a weed turning into a clover
Yes, those years were a backdrop on a primordial stage
A play written, directed, and produced by the universe and its rage
There came a time when our arms betrayed who and what we’d all become
An eighth of the United States of America were walking around numb
Then some prestidigitator president and his specious spouse opened her big mouth
When they realized the problem had spread from both east to west and north to south
Give the kids a slogan about “saying no” and they’ll follow all the rules
See, that’s what happens when you hand this country over to fools
We’d held demonstrations about racism and were maddened by war
And with battle comes death while we were all keeping score
Yes, we had a lot of things back then to apologize for
But I’m telling you, your corrupt government had a lot more
© 2011.….Phreepoetry
The President’s Nightmare
By Elton Camp
Although he was careful lest he should gloat,
The president told the death of an ugly old goat
Afterwards, he went to his chambers to sleep
And began to dream when his REM was deep
In his dream, Osama was captured, not killed
At first, the president was thoroughly thrilled
That day had been delayed for ten long years
Osama as a captive first put an end to his fears
He imagined what the consequences might be
It could be more horrible than he wanted to see
Almost as if he were actually very wide awake,
Mr. Obama mused, what direction will this take?
Will the man just sit in the martyrs’ chair?
Having now been captured may put him there
What developments can we expect to ensue?
Will acts of violence his imprisonment renew?
What if insistent demands for the zealot’s release
Are the price his followers demand for peace?
How many deaths of innocents would be enough
To decide that holding him is just far too tough?
Most likely bin Laden we will hold for a while
But how soon, if ever, will he be put on trial?
If convicted, what punishment will we decide?
Shall he be put to death or in prison long reside?
The president kept dreaming in utter dismay
He didn’t know what to the nation best to say
As he was about to give in to most total grief
Realizing ‘twas a dream gave him such relief
Her palsied mass depicting hapless shape,
A victim of heartless human rape.
This deathly site against a post,
Still so much alive like most.
With a wizened look and grotesque stare,
Breasts exposed,the rest too bare.
Assets devoid of former glory,
Reaching out to tell their story.
Agony encrypted on lips and brow,
You cannot help,but ask but "How"?.
Emaciation in stages beyond anorexic grace,
More like a skull than a womans face.
Like a shivering banshee in Alaska,
You're feelings' cold,can't stop and ask her.
Anticipating death she stands aghast,
Waiting patiently to breathe her last.
A whistling wind beckons ever slowly,
What succour now would help one so lowly?
Once a babe of parental kindness,
Today discarded by a world so mindless.
The end has come the throes begin,
Saying Goodbye to a life of sin.
From a deathly look and furrows of anguish,
Freedom at last! Death comes with a flourish.
----- Princefreakasso
(Artist and Poet)
Oh hello Mr burglar mate, ....
.When you come to visit me so late, ...
you'll think me old and weak . ....
I'm old and bowed and past my prime, ....
my hair's as white as snow. ...
You'll case our house another time,....
before you have a go. ...
We watch the telly often here, ...
see death and murder there....
The old and weak they live in fear, ...
for murder isn't rare. ....
You're just a thief I hear you say, ...
I see it in your mind. ....
You think it quite a game you play....
just break in rob me blind. ....
Self preservation lingers here, ....
and death does lie in wait. ....
For in my house you'll share my fear, ....
my shot gun wont miss mate. ....
Yes then they'll come to cart me off, ...
when your soul's gone out the gate. ....
Don't underestimate old pensioner pop, ....
or you'll find out just too late.....
Don Johnson
I Have Dark Secrets,
Burrowing Through My Soul,
Like Death Worms To The Flesh,
Taking Its Merciless Toll,
My Pain Always Bleeding Fresh,
This Death Rattle I Did Willingly Catch.
I Have Dark Secrets,
Assigned To My Punishment,
Like Heavenly Storms Above,
Too Arrogant to Build a Battlement,
Black Smoke Confuses the Peaceful Dove,
Still Wants for the Miracle of Destined Love.
I Have Dark Secrets,
Always Waiting to Leach Out.
Like Sucking Wounds,
Craving Another Suicidal Bout,
Lost Among the Many Shifting Dunes,
When Did My Life Come to Such Ruin?
I Have Dark Secrets,
Keeping Me Close.
Wanting to Highlight,
The Decisions I Chose,
Searching the Dark, For What Is Right,
Heedless To My Screams Into The Night.
I Have Dark Secrets
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