Long Blink Poems

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


Heavy

My terror grows with each passing night,
As slow, steady darkness steals away sight.
Footsteps and whispers add to my fright —
Is there an end to such desperate plight?
How long, too long, till dawn’s early light!
I clutch my candle in trembling hand,
And watch the shadows dance to understand
What I envision as its light expands
Through the room and down the hall’s span.
There lingers a vision, diaphanous and pale,
Shifting and shuddering, as though it were frail,
Whispering softly a most horrible wail.
Eyes no more than twin black abysses,
The vision approaches to beg final kisses.
Heavy, so heavy, my heart thuds in my chest.
From hall to room the visitant creeps,
Upon my mortal form it silently seeps.
Gliding in silence, not walking — not quite —
Closer it comes with its sulfurous blight.
My eyes are held tight — can’t even blink right.
Lips part, jaw drops, revealing a black maw;
The specter extends one moon-gray claw,
Caressing my cheek with a grave-cold paw.
My throat constricts — no breath do I draw.
It locks my eyes with hell’s black gaze,
Until moonlight strikes in golden rays.
The phantasm shudders and starts to blaze,
Struggles again its arm to raise —
But from the light it reels in malaise.
And heavy, so heavy, my heart thuds in my chest.
The hallucination retreats, as though pressed,
Back to the doorway — its intent suppressed —
Shrinking into the dark hall, a lost contest,
Driven by a moonbeam so blessed,
Whose gentle light coursed to my relief
And unmasked the fear beneath belief —
The frightful soul-stealing thief
That stalked and grieved me, if only brief.
Now I breathe, and calm my soul:
“Twas nothing but a myth… a troll.”
Then thunder pealed a mighty toll.
Wind brought rain and a thundercloud —
Again that wail, this time loud.
Oh heavy, so heavy, my heart… no more…
Form: Lyric


Only Serious Poet's Need Apply

As I strolled  down Beaker Street
A neon sign flashed in front of me

That said "Only Serious Poets Need Apply" 
(Blink) "Need Apply" (Blink) "Need Apply"

So it was I thought to myself
I can think of nobody else

As serious as a poet as I

I looked to the right and the left
Feeling pretty confident about myself

And decided to take a gander inside

The room it was totally dark
In the corner was the tiniest of sparks

I did a stately poetic stroll in that direction

Feeling I might have made a mistake
This thought occurred a little too late

But of course this whole scene might just be window dressing

A voice said we don't need a poet at all
Just someone dumb and gullible

That's the moment in my pants I started messing

Turns out it was a mad scientist
With a masters degree in craziness

What were his dastardly plans I could only be guessing

I was grabbed by a couple of ugly thugs
Who highly dislike deodorant and mouthwash

Tied up and flown off to the smallest of islands 

Where they did unspeakable experiments on me
In the first, second, and third degree

All because to insanity they took a liking

When it was they were finally done
With what those nut jobs consider good fun

Don't know how many walls they had me climbing

Daily now I plan my escape 
I only hope that I'm not too late

When the opportunity arrives I hope I don't blow it

I find it so hard to believe
That this all has happened to little ole me

And Why?
Because of me being such a serious poet

Eyes of the Night

By passing through the woods at night,
I met a mysterious creature with burning red eyes,
Staring at me from behind the mound in the silence.
His dreadful gaze flared without a single blink,
A giant in a dark cloak, moving toward me without motion.

My heart raced swiftly, as if it already knew the danger.
My mind wove countless doubts that weighed me down,
Yet I gathered all my courage and refused to move.
I looked back at him, though I felt the ground slipping away.

Then, in a heavy voice, he spoke:
“No one has ever stood firm as you do in this black forest.”
With steady breath, I answered,
“Till my destination, I shall not leave my way — I am resolved.”

He glared at me a moment more,
Then turned aside and left the path.
And I walked on with determination and courage,
Carrying the light of my will through the shadows of night.

By Myself

I was talking it over with someone by myself.
I was saying what it made me feel like, by myself.
Outside myself, inside my mind.
Everyone I talk to seems so kind.
It gets confusing, when reality, you can't find.

I met a girl, I gave it a whirl.
I was cool, I didn't even drool.
I planned our future in the blink of an eye.
She was my sweet angel, I was her great guy.
I woke up this morning, I don't know why.
When everything I just said is a lie.

I was trying to keep the family together.
From inside my own stormy weather.
Beware the stillness, before the winds.
Like a volcano,  they will surely blow.
I've been with you too long, I have to go.
My own silence is all that I know.

The kindest thing I know to do.
Is to help someone see their own view.
Let them own the world by them self.
It's hard to do with your heart up on the shelf.
And your head hanging low down in the valley.
Always hoping for intervention to help you rally.
Form: Rhyme

A True Best Friend

Murder.

My soul's contaminated with spit
and you walk all over me- 
each and every single time-
It's like I blink 
and you take one more slap
whack!
While my face red spurs out guilt of being a victim-
the one who always to blame
who is always wrong
and does wrong-
while you look down to me 
expecting.
It's neverending
and i'm unsympathetic as we speak.
Now so vulnerable and familiar to your cursed speech
lucifer's lies-
becoming true between the lies
you just start the fire.
You don't know how to put it out,
gassing it, lighter at hand 
yet you don't seem to care.
And my emotions,
they're toys-
broken, stomped on,
crushed.
Like my loyalty is not enough,
after I stand behind you,
strong and neutral-
while you whip my heart
and test me some more.
I've had enough.
And you've had plenty of chances before,
plenty of criticizing 
and it's too much,
 i'm not good enough
I'm the "bad" friend
i'm just not worth your time
so this is the end.


Premium Member I miss my mom

I miss my mom.
I don’t remember much about her,
It’s been over a decade and a half since
I last saw her,
Before she faded into
The person she’s become now.
But I remember when she was kind,
I remember when she loved us,
I miss my mom.

I miss swingset rides,
Her pushing me,
Higher and higher,
Into the sky.
Snapshots, memories,
A blink of her smile,
I miss swingset rides,
I miss when she loved me back.
I miss my mom.

I lost a parent,
Without losing a parent,
She’s alive,
She’s well,
But she is not
My mom 
Anymore.
I watch as she mumbles to herself,
Lost,
Alone and angry,
Rageful.
She wasn’t always like this.
But I no longer remember her before.
I miss my mom.

I miss warmth,
Compassion.
Traits she once possessed
According to her family and friends,
But that now remain dormant,
In a volcano,
Ready to explode
At any given moment.
I miss feeling like a kid,
Not walking on eggshells.
Security,
Safety,
Not standing outside home and 
Hesitating to open the door,
Scared of the jungle
I’d step into.
I miss my mom.

I wanted her back,
For so long,
I waited,
And waited,
And waited,
For her sickness to dissolve,
And it did,
But not before taking her with it,
Pixelating her into hatred
And dissipating her spirit
Into bitterness. 
I miss my mom,
But I do not want her back.

I do not want to forgive her,
And act like it’s all fine, that all is well again,
That cycle has broken me down to bits,
And I refuse to be a part of it again.
So Mom, I love you,
But I accept now,
That we can never be together,
Not the way a family is, not ever.
Because your sickness consumes you,
And though that’s not your fault,
You said your love was unconditional,
Yet it still came to a halt.
I don’t want that for my kids, Mom. 
I love you, and I miss you, but you will never meet my children.
Because though you are my mother, you’re not the mom I miss.
© Oliver Chu  Create an image from this poem.

Genesis of Thoughts

Narrow and shallow shining laser focus 
     into chasm while teetering on brink
akin to scurrying thru microcosmic burrow 
     of microscopic Manhattan skyscrapers 
     wink'n nod and blink,

this ace of spades heart (diamond 
     in the rough) poet digs club billy shallow 
     sometimes forced to spelunk 
     thru crawl space chink
     
hunting down gamesome dodging 
     catlike whim elusively outpaced,
yet webbed, whorled wide net 
     nonetheless doth cap cha alive 
     agile adept idealized rat fink,

which unseen quite quiet mouse notion 
     gives hardy fellow run for his money, 
     within scrunched brow mental chase
possibly connected to a preceding pondering 
or appearing randomly 
     viz, non-sequitur conscious kink

     said quarry i.e. whimsical thoughts   
frequently vanish without a trace
     quick as mental cogs and wheels 
     generate snapchatting, riveting, twittering link

process allowing, enabling, and providing 
     albeit easily distracting ability 
     to grasp awesome zinging, lightening, 
     fleeting brainstorm within windswept
     mind space *****sapiens to think
    
shimmering insight cognizant ability 
     likening ode on Grecian urn vase
frieze depicting elusive capture 
     thought process lifespan shorter than a wink

via third eye blind of 
     comfortably numb beatle browed face
to locate source giving rise 
    king inducing minor frustration at inability 
     to nab (albeit painlessly) shimmering zinc

like inception, deception, taking wing
within fifty plus shades swing
and conception of consciousness stir ring
nanobyte size quisling

gray matter housing chromosomal ping 
pong pin balling genes summons King
kong of Leon intrigue, jing
gull ling, where disparate 

     ideas linkedin fling
pollinated neurological network ebbing
and flowing, sans during
writerly blitzkrieg thread ding 
provocative point of pinterest bing

proclimation emancipation pensive predilection
to contrive a means and ways 
to corral mischievous mental minions
who seem to vanish without a trace  

holographic after effect or image evoked
from virtual reality, the latest modality 
to pair dime a dozen stray cats re:
untamed cerebral creatures tempting 
contemplation to occupy hours.

Cape Flats - 1

So, maybe you can tell
Heaven from hell,
blue skies from rain,
a day full of pain.

Can you trade a walk in the park
for a glimpse of the dark?
We are the captured souls, like fish in bowls.
Do you want to exchange, from living in chains?

Beating around the bush is not of any use, 
in the blink of an eye, you will die.
Life in the Cape Flats
has been taken over by brats.

They will rape, kill and maim.
even though they don’t know your name.
Every gang has a name,
they also have no shame.

People here live in fear.
There is always some parent who sheds a tear.
Young girls falling pregnant
from boys who will not leave a remnant.

A child heavily pregnant with a child
has been left alone like an animal in the wild.
The boyfriend is long gone
making a call to another one.

Parents going to work, trying to make a living
leave their kids at home in a life so unforgiving.
Kids must look after themselves,
even though the oldest is only 12.

Most households live a life of struggle.
That is a life so radical.
The gangs rule the street.
To them, somebody must bleed.

The community forms groups
but everybody has their moves.
The gangs make them fearful.
If they cross the gangs, they will soon be tearful.

The gangs of the Cape Flats
are like wolves in a pack.
If you cross them at your own risk,
you will end up on their hit list.

The gangs have no regard for the law.
To them, the law is a flaw.
Drugs rule their lives.
They will do anything to survive.

The Cape Flats has become a hive of activity.
If you are not careful, here you’ll meet your destiny.
Known for the activity of many gangs.
The shots fired, bang, bang, bang.

Innocent people run away.
There is no way they would want to stay.
They have no chance of leaving.
On the Cape flats, their lives have little meaning.
Form: Didactic

Premium Member The Posse of Soup Creek

My youth is long gone, I’m now middle aged.
I live life by my rules and my soul is not caged.

I’m a member of the Soup, this is where I spill my ink.
I’ve no delusions of grandeur, it can be gone in a blink.

I’m part of an elite group, sometimes mild but never meek.
All are welcome to apply, just see the mayor at Soup Creek.

We won’t back down from a fight, so be careful of what you say.
We are always keeping watch, every second of every day.

With the shirts from our backs, we’ll help any friend.
Just don’t cross my posse, their loyalty has no end.

Some say we’re the bullies, don’t believe what you hear.
We will defend what is right, let’s just make that point clear.

This site is like the wild west, we have many tales to tell.
The coffee is always on, so pull up a chair and sit a spell.
fun
Form: Couplet

Thugs, Thieves, and Cut Throats

One thing is for sure here in these places
That demons are abundant with childlike faces

Assassins lurk about unyielding to their task
Though they bare no threat or mask

Passersby wont even blink when they see
That children are deadly to you and me

For shelter and bread are motives enough to kill
Emotionless beast without passion or thrill

Society made such creatures who seek refuge
Among the darker demons who’s lives are abuse

Rat infested accommodations are what WE provide
Mediocre medical care dooms there already damaged pride

So to the streets many run away too!
Some clever enough to grasp the truth

Bands of hooligans are what the uppers call there hoards 
Beatings and sickness are what they can only afford

Survival becomes priority number one in life
Normal relationships never manifested only strife

Councilors, priest, and the police bring them back to hell
Trapped in the Orphanage is like being in a cell.

On sale to highest bidder is slavery plain to all
Or maybe like puppies you pick up at the mall

Some of the lucky ones find legitimate foster care
Others return with bruises and more nightmares

Money is a primary factor to these so called foster adults
People who can’t take care of themselves much less other souls

So I say to those who are in search of another income search elsewhere
Leave it to those who truly, truly care!

Back to those on the streets come to a place 
Where a smile can return to your dirty face

SCHOOL!
Form: Ballad

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