Long Cautionary tale Poems
Long Cautionary tale Poems. Below are the most popular long Cautionary tale by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cautionary tale poems by poem length and keyword.
An army of vampires, this night’s parade. Paralyzed are the gawking present day minds. Mouths agape, rubbing eyes, a thought that there may be no escape. The sign out front would be humorous except it’s diabolical.
we will be feasting
this Halloween by moonlight
do join our blood drive
One couple hopes for an alien abduction, seems less threatening at the moment. A cautionary tale, for their wish has been granted. Down comes the ray, lifting them to a giant dinner plate. Trickery, the treat celebrated earlier in the week.
alien vampires
delighted with honored guests
no need for ketchup
10/19/2020
Contest: Halloween Challenge
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Haiku portion of haibun checked with howmanysyllables.com
Word list: alien, blood, cautionary, vampires, trickery, abduction, paralyzed , Halloween, feasting, diabolical
A girl called Lucy loved to trumpet lies
And idle gossip laced her lips with ease.
Tall tales tripped off her tongue to tantalise
Those twitching ears which reddened by degrees.
This filled her honest Mother with despair
‘You wash your mouth with soap’ she often cried.
Young Lucy shrugged it off and did not care -
To those who would do likewise, woe betide!
One day, when she’d amassed an eager crowd
Who circled round to hear the latest slur,
She stood there in the limelight, feeling proud,
When suddenly a fly buzzed near her ear.
How everybody gaped to see it dive
Right into Lucy’s mouth poised open wide,
Then heard her splutter, gasp and vainly strive
To cough it up - she choked and promptly died!
The moral of this tale is do not lie;
When tempted move your upper lip down south.
Then Lucy’s fate will surely pass you by,
Nor fly, nor lie invades a fastened mouth.
18.08.19
He was a loud spirit slinking down the hall
Haunting you hear it the loudest quiet talk
Neither friend nor foe just a void in the air
Seems to have been yet is definitely there
Stealing the air from the room like a tomb
His presence isn’t soothing nor should it doom
Sticking to the corners and avoiding light
More powerful there and in the bowels of night
Some say he was a soul from years ago
That a horrific tragedy torments his soul
Doing no harm in his dark pitiful form
He is like a ghoul devoid of any charm
Even this poor thing has a purpose
A cautionary tale told to serve us
**Content warning: depicts abuse (please skip to one of my more lightheaded poems if one needs to).
To you, your abuse began as a game or joke,
so insidious, so quietly inhumane,
a spontaneous, cautionary tale, and yet,
so quickly it transpired into something much more.
Church was unsafe, school was unsafe, and finally -
you made my last safety net, my home - a prison.
I had just turned five, the first time you wrapped your hands
around my throat, and thrust your thumbs through my windpipe.
The weight of both your knees crushed my infantile chest,
so I couldn't possibly, even gasp, for air.
I squirmed, a silent whimper, and tried to break free,
but I was only five, and you were thirty-eight.
Your whole body was like a boulder upon me.
My eyes weeped, and I tried to beg, but had no breath.
My small hands weren't enough to get you off my throat,
and in the end, despite my effort, I'd pass out.
And to you then, I was your lifeless figurine,
your sick play-thing, your ragdoll, your real-life puppet.
Then awake some moments later, gasping for air,
the nightmare continued, with hands around my neck,
until I was so asphyxiated - I shook.
As I lost air, I'd break out into a cold sweat,
my vision blurred and hazy, my voice laboured, coarse.
I would lay there confused, dazed, scared, broken, alone.
When I next awoke, oft a necktie held my hands,
and like clockwork, you'd seethe, spit condescending tones,
shout obscenities, lies, curses - unbeguiling.
Whilst your hands again, found themselves glued to my neck,
suffocating me over and over and over and o'er,
whilst all my dreary eyes, through tears, saw was 'father'.
And, as if my father had not yet been depraved,
he'd oft strip me, of all remaining dignity.
Then once his hours accomplished, his anger unleashed,
he'd leave me unconscious, half-naked, on the floor.
He'd wipe his bloody hands clean and feel 'job well done',
and ensure to lock the bolts on that bedroom door.
09.03.2024
She sat in front of her vanity mirror
Her reflection felt unfamiliar
The girl in it didn't look how she pictured
She felt like a visitor
In a body that should be familiar
Yet somehow she felt like a prisoner
Not knowing how to feel about the person in the mirror who reflected her
She wasn't sure if she liked what she saw
She wasn't sure whether to love or hate
Her skin that made people afraid
That her parents to her to appreciate
She just wanted to escape
A world that wouldn't hesitate
A world who wanted her to break
To succumb to the same fate
Of the other black people they made
Slowly fade away
In a slow and painful way
Back in the mirror she stared
At a girl who pretended she didn't care
At a life which for her was very much unfair
How the world used her as cautionary tale
To spread hatred to white children to beware
Of the black girl with her afro she wears
As a way to instill fear
In the children so they would grow up to do the same
Their legacy was generational hate
But when she really looked in the mirror
And began to silence the lingering whispers
She took a deep breath
And began to clear her head
She replaced the negative thoughts with the positive ones instead
And when she looked at her reflection
She finally understood without question
That she loved her blackness
She couldn't believe she let the world convince her that she was anything less than perfection
She betrayed him with her lies but he decided not
to tell
He'd always seen it in her eyes, but couldn't break
her subtle spell
He was hypnotized by thoughts of love that kept him
still & in a trance
She lived in his mind consuming thoughts so he never
really had a chance
They danced all night into the morning indulging in more
than you'd imagine
Imagine two souls stuck together addicted to each other
like a habit
As fate would have it, they were crossed in the stars so it
was never meant to be
She bound him to her with wicked acts & decided to never
let him free
This is a cautionary tale of ties that bind on a deeper level
than vows & rings
Be careful of whom you attach cords for they're hard to break
nothing like thread or silly string
It was a very serious accident one which nearly killed her
But even as things went they would never be like they were
As in a coma she would lay being kept alive by a machine
By her side they would pray and toward her ear would lean
So many days would go past with not even one single sign
"How long can she continue to last oh this sweet child of mine"
Night would come and go and the sun continued to rise
But they just didn't know if they'd ever again look into her eyes
But then one day during a visit she moved and made a slight sound
Look! Look! did you see it? Oh such new hope they had now found
And this continued on for a few days and happened more and more
She was finally coming out of that haze this their child they so adore
Then she started to speak but not the questions you would think
But the answer she would seek made her parents do a double blink
"Why didn't you tell me I had a brother?" I seen him when I died
For it could be no other as the mother just broke down and cried
So young they didn't know what to do in having an abortion long ago
Saying "that was between only me and you how could she ever know"
This may just be a cautionary tale but it is also based on a true story
I can still her that woman wail as she got just a sense of God's Glory
And 3,000 more in the U.S. today. (Everyday)
I just told ya
Envious emerald eyes eat everything they see
Seeking soulful meals sinning repenting reinventing
Youth is no excuse for the babies are truthful
Your selfishness serves only you yet
Can be viewed as a cautionary tale
Every thing that looks good isn’t
Are you all you eat really envious eyes
Have you had humble pie
What did it taste like
Did you swell up with pride
Or deplete of ego inside
Eyes that seek peace yet warring
Eyes that need engaging story
What if you turn your gaze to within
Not in self hate but in renewing and mend
Growing green apple of eyes
Building dreams and living life
As an example a sample of grace
Envious emerald eyes on your beauty we wait
When Old Mother Hubbard
Examined her cupboard
And found not a scrap there to munch on,
Not one morsel that clung
To an ort or a crumb,
She felt foolish and dumb
And stood sucking her thumb
While her dog, Butch, got nothing for luncheon.
"She forgot to go shopping again," grumbled he.
She just scratched his ears sighing,
"Sorry, pal. C'est la vie."
When pangs of hunger are felt,
Humans tighten their belt,
But poor Butch started howling
As his stomach was growling,
For a mastiff has needs to be regularly fed.
So…since there was no baloney…
And…since she was nice and bony…
Mother Hubbard wound up on the menu instead.
This tale has a moral,
As some nursery rhymes do,
And this one's a little bit gruesome, it's true:
A pet owner's job's
To protect not neglect him,
So feed yours each mealtime,
For if too long overdue,
Your "Butch" might be inclined
To make a meal out of you.
Like a tumbleweed aimlessly blowing in the wind
across infinitely open and wide prairie home companion land
(which wasteland famously epitomized by T.S. Elliot)
a barren vista ravages metaphorical landscape
of one measly mortal malcontent male
bumping and scraping along accursed habiliment
just barely avoiding and dodging diabolical demons
mercilessly and unrelentingly ready
to seduce this somewhat sanguine Simian
who finds himself amidst the pitfalls
of a tortured and twisted existence
racked with pinions describe bing
a demonic dragon filled dungeon
damp, dark, demented domains –
a veritable no man’s land
impossible to escape no matter how fast I -
as a foo fighter flee
from the fearful, fierce-some phantasmagoric forms
figments of my imagination seemingly real
tangible as bone and flesh
who haunt sacred crowded house of slumber
transmogrify me into a loathsome madman
ranting raving senseless gibberish and sic gobbledygook
perceived as metaphysically n philosophically insane
as soundgarden syllabification
from one womanly World Wide Web wayfarer
which virtual vagabond venerates vowels
and possesses means and tees to till verse
akin to a sorceress who waves a magic wand
to produce supreme sentences
weaves tantalizing terrific tweed topographic tundra’s
that this admirer of her artful and colorful poetic endeavors
prompts me to accompany my mindscape
as a thought-provoking troubadour
amidst the information super byways and highways
along winding labyrinths of critical thinking
or simply stepping o'er rolling stones
of silly rhymes without wing less reason
all the while giving subtle egress
into that chamber of secrets
long kept shut tight to maintain
that sure footed stance of solitude
whose only entities happened
to constitute trappings of literary lugubriousness
those tombs of largesse identified
as great works and masterpieces of literature
yet careful to avoid complete intimacy
lest that cherished solitude shattered
and a heart rent asunder
twin tower ring inferno imp perils of loss that provide
an understandable cautionary tale
to the author of this rambling missive
a most profoundly perceptive acute Ape man
touched to the quick with a bit of angel dust
aware that this agonized and angst riddled arboreal beast
contents himself with the confines of cyberspace!