Long Clashed Poems
Long Clashed Poems. Below are the most popular long Clashed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clashed poems by poem length and keyword.
As the scurrying clouds clashed and broke
Sparks of light cut instant pathways
Thunder stamped across the darkening sky
Like an enraged beast, violently hurt
Witnessing this accident of a collision,
The sky’s bosom heaved in suppressed pain
In her sunken eyes, tears flooded unawares
And fell, drop by drop in deep dismay
The cacophonous wind joined in a waltz
With the drops tumbling out of tune
Holding hands from heaven’s heights,
They together came down in violent clatter
The grass and plants had a passionate romance
With this spill out from sky’s seamless heights
Drunk with heavenly elixir, the thirsty earth lay content
And glossy leaves giggled, washed clean of all dirt
As rain cleanses the earth and bathes the plants
It douses the heat and fire in racked minds
With sonorous whispers and cooling jets of balm,
It ignites poets’ fancy to compose verse and soar high
November.8.2022
~Placed First~
Inspiring Rainy Days Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Sotto Poet
He is a writer, I am the reader
He is a fighter, I’m the survivor.
He is a follower, I’m the loner,
He is calmer, I am louder.
He holds his voice for me,
I shout at him freely.
The day he asked me out
Was the day he was freaking out.
How would it feel to be alive
With such a strange vibe?
Having a soulmate opposite to you,
Getting attached to someone who felt so new.
A person who clashed with your view,
Holding on to someone you never knew.
One had boundaries, one was wild,
One was mature, the other—a child.
But before God, there’s nothing to hide,
Some people just can’t walk by your side.
The story changes, it must one day,
When we both finally part our way.
The love was real, the vision was pure,
But the bond we had had no cure.
Like the South and North Pole’s tone,
We were meant to stay distant, and alone.
And this is the end—the destiny we own.
I can hear the village cry from the middle of the sky; I can hear the village cry but there is none to give a Bligh. The earth is saturated with dust and debris from meteorite thundering from space, but I was just in time to move from that place before the meteorite explodes in my face. I can hear the village cry as daylight breaks through the sky, heaven rains upon them but the devil have them trapped in the lion’s dens. There is no investment there and that reality has caused the people to fear, the adults are hustling on the side to keep afloat the village people’s pride. It’s the future that stares them in their bare faces and the truth running a marathon in the sun, with bruised heels and cracked lips. The reality of life is so strong that the young and old cannot understand. You wait for something positive to happen, but all you hear is grumbling and complaining all over the place and everyone jockeying for a powerful place. Angry faces stares at you and you just don’t know what to do; this thing has destroyed so many people’s lives, and it has caused many fights and painful sacrifice; broken family, broken homes, broken relationship and broken bones, and broken tracks where the tiger roams. It is something that you cannot fix, even if you pray all day under the crucifix. I can hear the village cry a thousand miles above the sky. The people have clashed into the street, and they are complaining in the sweltering heat, I wish if I can do something to ease the pain, even if I had nothing to gain. Water is springing up all over the place and the people are drowning in it, so get ready to evacuate from that place and move to a new place. All around is Chinese grocery store but there is nothing to open the village people’s door. There is no employment there and there is little to share. I can hear the village people cry, so do something before they die. Tears are pain, tears are joy, tear are shame, so meet with me at Bennett Lane tonight at nine to solve the village people’s cry.
I still stand
Have a chance
Mike in my hand
Lyrically band
Drums beating
Cymbals clashed
Titans passed
Powers situations
Bolts metaphorically hating
Pacing Blues
Sue pursue
Royalties with no moves
Jacking prices
To get a sail
Back down river bends and boats
Seattle with no coasts
Trailing door knobs without a turn
Skipped
Tripped Sun burn
Comcast
Infinity
Antennas remotely
Coated Symphony
Operatic Anomalies
Fake paced with properties
State faced moralities
Given sentence no warning
Exclamation interrogation
Periodically visitations
Paroled up
Handcuffs taken to another case
What stand
Back at it again
Chance
Wielder of the Chronicle of White
Traversing time to right the wrongs
A land turns to sand beneath his feet
His friends follow suit
Two kingdoms battle for the grainy plains
One wields numbers, one wields technology
A false queen, a twisted scientist
Executed all the same
Led under the words of a Prophet
The so-called Holy War rages on
The Puppetmaster watches behind the scenes
Lambs to the slaughter
He wields the Chronicle of Black
Gifted to him to grant him wisdom
He uses it to dessicate the world
To avoid his true calling
Wielder of White and Wielder of Black
Born but to die
Souls used to keep the sand from spreading
He clung to life to end all other
Many died
History can't write down all the names
The two forsaken Wielders clashed beyond time
And selflessness conquered selfishness
The Wielder of White returned his soul
To the land from which he borrowed
The Wielder of Black intervened
To give his own instead
The Wielder of White was spoken of in legends
From then til the end
Seldom seen and never heard
Perhaps only a distant dream
Of the ones who survived
Of the ones who prayed
Of the ones who were tasked
With ensuring his would be the last sacrifice
Sheep Sam could not seek sleep that night
as storm sounds crashed and clashed;
the thunder blasted booms while bright
bold beams of lightning lashed.
So sadly, Sam said, “We can't sleep-
the big booms bash so loud!”
But then, they heard a chirpy cheep-
a true tweet in their crowd!
“Oh yes”, said Sparrow Sue, “You know
this scary storm won't last;
it helps the green grass greatly grow
as rich rain feeds it fast.
So, ease your ears and eyes- think how
our fading field of green
will grow the coolest clover now
our home has ever seen!”
And so, the sleepless sheep slept well
until the storm-free sun
sent scents of their best breakfast smell-
green grass and fine food fun!
Day-248 “Winter’s Wrath”
From out of the north
The cold winds blew
Hell’s inferno turned blistery cold
The Devil himself all
Bundled in ice coated steel;
His snarly, crackling laughter
Piercing the barren air.
His staff, a brazened fork,
Pierced all who ventured out
Searing holes in sockless shoes.
His razor sharp eyes
Turned pathways glazed
To monstrous graves.
Eternity could not be worse
This inferno from the north.
From out of the south
The warm winds came.
Across the Heavens,
In a chariot of golden sun rays
Pulled by a hundred whited steeds
Apollo took aim.
Over the plains they clashed;
Spears and swords took many a soul
White sheets covered the deadly fields.
The north wind hissed.
The south wind kissed.
Apollo cried out
“My blood runs hot
Forsake me not.”
From his scabbard a diamond blade flew
Cutting the breath of that mighty
South bound wind.
He ripped the armor
From the Devil’s redden skin
And turned it to dust; then
Took that angry man’s staff and threw
It to the sea.
With that the skies began to calm
And the wind turned warm.
Above the plains
In the setting sun
Selene stood proud.
As she glazed the sea
With an orangish glow
A smile on her face
For Apollo her man,
Boreas he tamed.
Lon 2/16/2021 #351
DEADLY FRAME UP PLOTTED FIR ME BY CORRUPTION CIRO GARGANO CROONIES SET OUT TO RACKETEER MY IDENTITY MY WAR HEROS IDENTITY THEN FRAME ME RIGHT THEY GATHERED WASTING A LOT OF USELESS MAN POWER FAKSIFYINGNLIES AND UNTRUTHS GOING WAY BACK TO MY FIRST ABUSIVE EX FINALLY MY SECOND ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND CIRO GARGANO GATHERED SEVERAL IMPOSTERS TO AUDITION AND IMPERSONATE ME WHAT I BLESS WHEN THE FRAME UP LANDED MY IDENTITY THIEVES WERE FRAMING EACHOTHER NOT EVEN KNOWING MY REAL NAME OR MY REAL BIRTHDAY THIS RESULTED IN MY IDENTITY THIEVES BEING FRAMED INSTEAD IF THE GLOVE DON'T FIT YOU MUST AQUIT FUNNY WHEN FALSIFYING DOCUMENTS PLANTING EVIDENCE TAMPERING WRONG INFORMATION STRAIGHT OUT LIES GARGANO TRIED TO COVER MY IMPOSTERS IMPERSONATING FRAUD UPON ME AND MY WONDERFUL WAR HERO HACKING INTO EMAIL ADDRESSES HACKING INTO MEDICAL INFORMATION IN GOVERNMENT OFFICES CIRO GARGANO AND MY STALKER ACTUALLY TRIED TO OPTAIN VETERAN BENEFITS BY USING MY HUSBANDS NAME A WAR HERO SINCE VIETNAM WHEN THE SCAM DIDN'T WORK GARGANO BEGAN TRYING TO FRAME ME TO COVER HIS IDENTITY FRAUD UPON A VETERAN STOLEN VALOR FRUAD IN RENO PURPLE HEART CONVENTION AUGUST 7TH 2025 I AM A LIFETIME MEMBER AND SERVED AS THE PRESIDENT 2016 AND 2017 VOLENTEERING CHARITY DONATIONS HELPING OUR TROOPS MY STALKERS CORRUPTION HACKED INTO THAT TO TRYING TO CHANGE MY NAME EXPOSING MY IMPOSTERS ONE USING MY FIRST EX HUSBANDS NAME THEE OTHER IMPOSTER USED MY SECOND HUSBANDS NAME FINALLY CLASHING TO PERPUTRTATE FRAUD AGAINST MY THIRD HUSBAND AND I IRONICALLY IDENTITY FRAUD UPON MY IDENTITY THIEVES THEY ALL CLASHED MY HUSBAND AND I RECIEVED THREATS BECAUSE CIRO GARGANO AND MY IMPOSTER WAS PERPUTRATING FRAUD UPON ME AND MY WAR HERO THIS IS WHY HE SET OUT TO FRAME ME FINALLY ENTRAPPING EXPOSING MY ORIGINAL IMPOSTER IN A TWIST OF FATE I SUPPOSE WHERE THE IDENTITY FRAUD BEGAN
As dark clouds dashed and clashed in the sky
Thunder began to boom and rumble
Sensing an impending rain, frogs started croaking
Cows stopped cuddling and began to moo
Soon pitter- pat came down the raindrops.
landed on roof tops with a heavy thud
they broke and cracked into tiny droplets
gurgled and gushed through canals and drains.
And joined the brooks that babbled,
merging with waterfalls that whooshed.
Along with the rain, came the roaring wind
as it passed, the bells clanged
windchimes whispered, wires on poles whistled
doors slammed shut and windows creaked
grasses swished and leaves rustled.
Birds fell silent and stopped tweeting
When the pouring rain came to a sudden halt,
The rattle was over with everything falling silent.
The art was most masterful on the dark canvas.
It seemed as though done by a gigantic genius
Colours clashed, popped, hopped, splashed, and slashed like soap bubbles.
Shades, strips, and spots with secret sacred stateliness
Hidden puddles-puffed puzzles, troubles, and struggles...
Like shade-stung sunlight, there's sweet sadness behind smiles.
Rays of fate between the skin and the skull are seen.
Though feet are not seen, legs seem to walk many miles.
Where have the eyelashes gone? Have sleepless eyes been?
Mysteries of history are seen like smoke fog.
Why a black-white amalgamation on sky peaks?
Is there an unseen spring-summer transition clog?
Lo, each paint-pattern on the canvas of time speaks
Art, in its heart, bleeds with love for each little soul.
Each little soul, in turn, conflates with the cosmic whole.