Long Begone Poems
Long Begone Poems. Below are the most popular long Begone by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Begone poems by poem length and keyword.
Slither Slider Sludge
from the quagmire to the dust
we stand to face the mountain
with the rage of shadows past
I am anger I am pain
I heard the shadows
felt the rain
caste the feelings out in vain
Listen to the words I say
feel the warmth of summers day
we fight again a waste of time
why should it be this way
Slither Slider Sludge
perhaps we leave the dust
a ray of light a slight decay
perhaps I see the light of day
We took unto this home of ours
a child of the night
a child caste in shadows past
his light of slivers plight
His cry within the wilderness
I could not turn away
and yet with money speaking
we could not have him stay
Begone the the thoughts of money
I could not turn away
I could hear, the child heart crying
I had to let him stay
my heart reached out to cover him
in mantels of my soul
together we must shoulder then
the defects of our gaols
And yet we see the start of light
the growth of wisdoms road
as school results begin to shake
the devil from the toad
The silence was shattered - a knock at my door,
A sound most profane I had not heard before.
It echoed and deepened, it pounded the floor,
And my soul cried for silence - the blessed old lore.
The clock whispered softly - a quarter past four,
It's ticking, a heartbeat, that haunted me more.
Each knock was a whisper, each sound was a sore,
Each echo a shadow that crept to my core.
"Begone!" I bellow, "disturb me no more! My patience grows thin - my spirit is sore, I carry the steel that speaks with a roar, so silence thy madness - and darken my door!"
The rapping then ceased, and calm filled the air,
I tread through the hall with a ghost - ridden stare.
My heart, though it stilled, felt heavy with care - for no one was waiting, and no one was there.
Yet faint in the hush of the midnight's dark shore,
Came softly - so softly - the knocking once more
The Gloved One
Halt who goes there?
The Disease
I am the health care scare.
The Gloved One
Is your name bubonic, measles or tee bee?
The Disease
No, that is not me.
The Gloved One
I do not see you
The Disease
That does not mean I am not true. Covid 19 is my name
And social disruption is my game.
The Gloved One
I feel a draft, a cold wind with no laugh.
The Disease
At 19 I was ready for the draft but peace was holding up any military wrath.
Covid 19! I am the one that taunted the powers that be
With an innocent start inside a fish mart
I had ports of call where I made the masses they did fall
Ordering people to stay inside or maybe they will die
The Gloved One
I said halt you wretched thing we have defeated your kind with our royal kings
We will go back to hand shaking and peace making
Once you have been disposed of and replaced with true love
The Disease
Yes I have a short term here
By spreading isolation and frustration without a tear
The Gloved One
Begone Begone you treacherous villain you are making a million by using sickness as a way of killing
There will be a rise in temperature
From this contagious situation that is so immature
And when the heat increases
Covid 19 you will be in pieces
The Disease
Tally ho Covid 19 here and I must say it is time to go
The Gloved One
Lurk all you want in your invisible form
And in the end you will wish Covid 19 was never born
streets
passageways
gutters
shutters
roofs
squares
polished pipes
reveal
a masquerade of smells
of rooms
that dress
&
cling to memory
silhouettes
provide a screen
for
hips&thighs
so neat&amusing
to regard
in afternoons
of silence
distress ripples
twists
to surprise
in repose:
together flowers
an explanation
of the serious
&
profound
from gloom to bliss
devout
flesh approach
with warmth..
begone
the dim
&indistinct...
enfold aloud
depart
fatigue
people indifferent
to scarifice
until tears
& night
reappears
thus commisioned
clearer meaning
once forgotten..
unspoken
a fragment
of joy
around wonder
separates
amazement
through gratitude
become
appointed
amongst the select
grief
dry as dust
leaves the complacent
living
presses the tongue
of the prim
into a spell
of ignorance..
an apt chance
tolls
& passes
by
the bitter
deride
the inborn listen
as
enlightenment
lies
unspoken
the pleasant
cornerstone
happens by
the good..
with an inheritance
Another year has passed us by,
And another year's begone
To all my friends who are still here
(Let's behold our blessings) ...
and keep on moving on!
So many lost some loved ones this year,
some family or some friends
But keep in mind their still with us
Because this is not where their journey ends
There's a place that we call heaven
Way up high above the clouds and sky
That's a soul-filled place that God has given
To all good people, just like you and I
But before this new year ends
And before it's twenty-twenty-five
I thank the lord on this blessed day
That he's kept you all still alive
I want to fall away… but I held on
I want to hold on… yet I fell away
Feelings sway to belong to begone
I wanted tomorrow from a yesterday
We invented time
Does it mean it’ll never end?
Timeless to find
Lifetimes to never know when
I would wish for something I never knew
Yet never can we understand beyond
Living lives exhausted to feel
Where had we belong?
Too much was nothing more
A little is perhaps something
I need experience to ignore
And inexperience to once more dream
I held on to fall away
Falling into where I belong
Life forever holds sway
For every tomorrow to be gone
………….
Oh, overseer of precious population
waterkeeper
'tis
wastewater
&debauchery
Mentor of well being
&human aid
our youth dying,
away with immunization
prominent denier
medicus defiance,
aegrotus, the child,
mentor what is your alliance?
even when he’s cut to pieces,
a true warrior is one who fights for a cause
he never abandons the battlefield
when injustice becomes law
resistance becomes duty
a true leader leads with strength
& compassion
this one hides & denies, lies
his soul they buy
ruling with his ancient alibies
how can you protect us
with helminths of your own,
our fate in your hands
what is this that commands?
conveyor of danger
binger of skepticism
& lost cause
begone, bygone
you are not,
food for thought
I await sweet Annabelle
as I rest in this lonely bower.
I yearn to hear her angel voice
and feel her healing power.
Others come and others go
in times I'm given to folly,
like buxom Jenny Ramsbottom
and then there's fulsome Molly.
Sometime I forget their names,
it's so hard to keep a tally.
Some bore with their chitter-chat,
especially one named Sally.
I sometime wish for solitude
How long will this persist?
My age is catching up on me
and I doubt they all exist.
But one there is who is for sure
and she's s my favourite nurse.
Begone ye mad romantic dreams.
Sister Jane is down to earth.
Behold the lowly dandelion; a weed with just a fancy name.
She grows where opportunity allows but pest is her main claim to fame.
Strong and tenacious, she holds her own against those who wish her harm.
Growing wherever she can drop a root, a bright yellow flower to disarm.
Among the many blades of grass, she snuggles in your lawn.
If you resent her presence there, then grab the Weed Begone.
But when it's time to reproduce, she's soft and fluffy fairy down.
Sending her seeds into the world, they ride the wind along the ground.
A bee's first food in early spring, she holds a place in nature's heart.
Perhaps a wish is sent her way, as the child in us blows her apart.
So, don't underestimate this overabundant humble weed.
She has a niche in God's plan and her humble presence fills a need.
April 5, 2019
With a heart feeling dry
Another day has begone with a sigh
A closure I’m to forsake to pry
Only to yearn a night to feel as high
As beautiful it be as let be
Like blood upon fallen snow
A night to become, a night to see
Drinking liqueurs while embracing the cold
With music as well to in tune
Of fancy foot-works upon the floor
A neverending time to assume
To imbue with moments to forever recall
Innocence in clarity, pureness in tranquility
To cultivate, to activate, to motivate, to stimulate
Beauty in melody, musical in serenity
Of late to only await, of love and of hate
Perhaps the night has an awakening!
A night never for all to simply experience
And of times, they do belong in dreams
And sometimes even, to belong in absolute silence