Long Clenches Poems
Long Clenches Poems. Below are the most popular long Clenches by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clenches poems by poem length and keyword.
Sitting past his chamber door, once was a man who was adored. Every night and every day he had a girl, for whom they stayed.
After all his love and all his lies, he met a girl who caught his eyes. She went by Bunny for name is not known. He implored her to stay at his place she called cave.
"Oh, my sweet Bunny" claimed the man, "forgive me for being the fool i am". Gazing upon her picture from days not long ago, stood a rabbit at his door. "Flee White Rabbit!" screamed the man, "For i loathe a presence such as yours!".
The Rabbit thumped twice, as it looked at the man, with no expression as it only can. "I loathe a presence such as yours!, leave my house i implore you at once!" barked the man, as the rabbit once more thumped again expressionless as ever.
"Enough!" exclaimed the man while he kicked the rabbit out his door, hopping away with a limp on its leg. " I begged you rabbit to let me be, for not i who took your mobility!", so stopped the rabbit in his way only to look back and thump some more.
"Taunt me no more rabbit, for i am through. you will thump nor live past noon!". said the man as he angrily got his car. Chasing down the rabbit as it hopped away. Raging throughout the streets, only to come to a dead end with the rabbit in his sights.
"Finally", said the man, "your life will perish at my hands" the rabbit thumping as the mans heart races only to charge into the wall. Out of the midst comes the rabbit limping to be grabbed by the ears from the man half dead. "Is there nothing you can do, but try to taunt me i dare of you!" screamed the man
As his blurred vision turned to reality, only to witness the white rabbits identity. "My love?" Bunny whispered face all bruised and right leg twisted. "Its not your fault, only if i had given you medicine, so you can tell from right and wrong"
She fights for her last gasp as her life is taken while the white rabbit fades from existence. Her hair slips from his hands, "Oh God, I'm a murderer!" he cries "beseech me god, for i am insane!".
A Black Rabbit with dark red eyes appears on the hood of his car. Thumping so rapidly as the man clenches his heart, to only give a breath of cold. As his lifeless body lays the rabbit again hops away.
Ring Ring Ring
i feel the phone vibrating the sound rings deep into my mind
My girlfriends curious stares as i see the caller ID
my thumb slides up painfully slow, towards the ignore button that seems miles away
Its done
I breathe deep as she asks for an explanation, a reason for my response
and can say nothing
She looks at me, her eyes prying into my soul
"An old friend nothing more"
But Her eyes tell me she feels it
I look down at the now blank phone as i contemplate my decision
And the consequences of it.
Ring Ring Ring
A new message, another new message
My eyes burning as i hit the delete button.
No need to hear it, no need to open the door to temptation
A decision made, a decision to be kept i assure myself.
My palms start to sweat as it clenches around my phone,
The plastic and cheap materials threatening to break.
Release, sweet release, its all i need.
A way to let go, let go of it all
But alas its too late.
Ring Ring Ring
My head throbs at the sound at the thought, at the idea
I look at the phone and see
Its not her
Release? a Snapping point like plastic cracking
An ending to the hallway
A door locked and sealed after so much time?
I hope not
Ring Ring Ring
Its in my head now, a phone long since silent
My girlfriend walks beside me with a knowing stare
I am no longer there.
Here i am, millions of miles away in my own thought
Thoughts of past, thoughts of present
And thoughts of the perfect future
Perfect future?
An Oxi moron if ever there was one
The Future is not about the good
Of the Great wonderful and perfect!
Its the balance of the good and the bad
The good to smile each morning
And the bad to make the good feel great
Is this ringing, a sign of how great things truly are?
One Pain, one hurt, a scar not on my skin,
the perfection of this imperfect world
of my imperfect world?
Ring Ring Ring
A scenario played through my head many times
a key found for the door in the hallway
a conversation of drama, angst and history
A scenario doomed to stay in my head
Pride, my foolish pride prevents the call
My word holds a promise made in anger
Ring Ring Ring
I wait for a call, and one accidental acceptance of it all
Form:
hostile,
pungent,
nasty,
&
redefining the art of having a
chip on his shoulder
he marches through the last specks of his burnt out existence
telling us all how we should live our lives
(spouting his rotting “wisdom” at everyone he sees)
while
regretting
so very much of his
own---
with wrinkled ancient skin
flabby & sagging
dark blue veins popping out
just beneath the surface of his
decrepit self
lost in the deadening reflection of the polluted river he kneels by
wondering why his wife left him
wondering why he can’t get it up anymore
the dirty homophobe walking on the college school grounds
trying to flirt with young girls
trying to remember what it was like
when he could smell the roses
but
now
all
the
roses
have
wilted
& he can’t get past the fact that things are changing
that things have changed
and he’s lost in the moment
of really being scared,
terrified in the corner
flipping out with his pathetic attempts at wit
condemning us all to the hell he clenches on to
he has to believe that it exists
because it’s the only
justice
left for him
but with the reality that his
superannuated ideas
just don’t
cut
the
mustard
anymore---
trying to pelt us with his cane
trying to keep free from the rain
and yet all the voices in his brain
don’t allow him any peace from the pain
which really fuels all of this
disdain
and
narcissistic need for death to come
sooner than later
and some will say he is no longer loved
and some will wonder just how he got to where he is
and some will see that what he has become is simply
unsavory
and it’s just better to walk away when he enters the room
but
i have no sympathy for such bitterness
i have no sympathy for laziness that comes with self-pity
and
waiting for that clock to tick that last tick
i’m walking down a narrow street in st. petersburg
looking for
raskolnikov
cause’ i got this old bastard’s number in my hand
and his time is up
i think we’ve had enough
i’ll polish the candelabra for my young friend
hell, i’ll sharpen his axe,
and stand watch, outside the bastard’s building
ready to alert him
if anyone catches onto our
“dastardly deed.”
at dusk I come upon my lake and sit beneath a shaded tree
with lifeless eyes I gaze at the setting sun, for it is the last one I will ever see
in my arms I cradle a shotgun, loaded with only one shell
the instrument that I shall use, to release me from my endless Hell
with utter calm I press the barrel beneath my chin, ready to see if there is truly a God
but then I am halted from my salvation, when from across the lake I hear a sob
my first thought is what has brought this Goddess such pain, tears streaming down her
cheeks
this creature is of such ethereal beauty, that I am rendered unable to speak
so deep is her despair that she doesn't even notice I am there
still unable to find my voice, all I can do is stare
cerulean eyes, raven tresses
thoughts of blissful cries, and lustful caresses
in those eyes I see a pain that rivals my own
on her wrists, the evidence is shown
but I can see that the scars are far more deep within her heart and mind
whoever has brought this angel such misery only deepens my loathing for mankind
I feel a strange sense of peace, looking at this creature in all her splendor
the embers of longing ignite within me for the first time I can remember
my heart clenches as her tears fall onto the water, the cold wind creating gentle waves
from the agony that radiates off of her, I know that she plans for the lake to be her grave
I wonder if I can save her, pull her from the abyss
a woman who has endured such suffering, deserves nothing other than bliss
as the last rays of the sun vanish, into the water she begins to descend
I stand up and run to her, the shotgun forgotten on the ground
as she disappears beneath the water, I grab her and pull her above the surface
like a comet streaking across my mind, I realize that saving her is my purpose
she looks into my eyes and gasps when she sees her pain reflected
a vestige of hope wells up within her, for she knows she has found a kindred soul
from the pleading desperation in her eyes, I know that I've been trapped
and I never want to escape
Sitting there,
With that empty stare,
Staying still,
Going nowhere,
You have lost all hope,
The will to live,
The pain clenches your heart,
Sitting there,
In the dark,
You stare at her,
Your lost love,
Sitting in the armchair,
As cruel as life can be,
Why did god take you,
So violently from me,
I thought our love was forever,
Until the doctors told me otherwise,
Weeks not months to celebrate,
With so many tears in our eyes,
A wicked disease,
Has left me,
Mourning my soul mate,
Sitting in a dark room,
With that empty stare,
Longing and wishing for my love,
To be found opposite me,
In her favourite armchair.
Sitting there,
With an empty stare,
Remaining still,
Going nowhere,
You have lost all hope,
Your way to live,
The pain cannot be felt no more,
Sitting there,
At the crossroads,
Staring painfully,
At the old wreath of flowers,
Sitting in the wheelchair,
As cruel as life can be,
Why did god take you,
So horrendously from me,
I thought our love was forever,
The drunk driver took you away,
Hurtling into our car,
On a perfect sunny day,
A wicked man,
Has scarred me,
And mourning my soul mate,
Sitting paralyzed at that crossroads,
With that empty stare,
Longing and wishing for my love,
To come back to me,
And take me away from this wheelchair.
As cruel as life can be,
The future we can never see,
Nothing seems to be forever,
No matter how much we pray,
Or hope that is so,
As cruel as life can be,
Our dreams and visions,
Are evaporated in a twisted,
Roll of dice,
When deaths hand reaches out,
No religion or science can save you,
Time to go,
Hardly time to say goodbye,
Hold on to our memories,
When you forget how to cry,
Don’t ever forgot the one you lost,
As cruel as life can be,
Tearing away veils of hope,
And leading you to insanity,
So mourn you loved ones,
But don’t let life bring you down,
It is not over until it’s over!
© Darren Hobson September 2015
An alchemical raven's gray rhapsody awakens those cynical roses who
Breathe-in the ebony beams of blood-bathed sun, exhaling
Cacophonies that ricochet across these truthful horizons where,
Depressive roars embalm Lilith's lawns. Awash with smoked prairies and
Equinoctial secrecy, my neon lips swathe in life's witchy lies, for -
Flames of fury, lace every lead feather of the pewter crow, that feasts on beliefs.
Grieving charcoal stars swing like souvenirs of deceit when,
Heartbeats of hibiscus moon, shiver and shatter upon my schizophrenic
Ink, carving betrayals in asphalt ashes. "Am I a
Jewel of jinx, floating like a jet-black jasmine across
Kohl orchards?" - whispers time's wistful rebirth in the
Lachrymose lake of death, as conspiracies entwine in cyan cobwebs within
Medusa's redstone heart, tumbling at my tulip-tombstone.
Now, nebulous blackbirds, rise from corbeau cinders, as
Onyx wings of resilience have torn apart and
Pierced every sheath of shimmering faith - surrendering to the
'Queen of darkling serendipity', as her clemency clenches me onto the cusp of
Rhetoric valleys and winds pirouette with a pirate's porcelain wave,
Silencing the saffron of my soulful sculpture, in eternal streams of fall.
Thornless fate has forevermore, been an insomniac illusion and maybe,
Ultraviolet elegies of saturn's rings will become a noose for my dreams and
Viola orbs will encase every dove-dawn in a woeful chrysalis,
When anxiety's darkling dungeon, spreads across rustic realms and
Xanthic Satan dethrones my poinsettia-crown, as survival holds onto the
Yarns of last crystal light within Cleopatra's claustrophobic hope. But in the
Zillionth moment - my heart shall wail in rhymeless refrain - am I the one, lost?
It’s there in the darkest corner of his room
there where he takes off his shoes and socks and just leaves them
the place that his Mom said that she is going to leave as is from now on
it’s just sitting there grinning
he can’t see it clearly but it’s there
just waiting
as soon as he closes his eyes it’s gonna streak across the room
and rip his face off with its razor sharp claws
why did it come to his room
it should have gone to nerdy Norman’s room
no, to big fat bully Billy’s room
he can’t hear it breathing
‘cause its sitting there with its mouth wide open
slowly breathing in and out past big yellow teeth
just waiting
his eyelids are getting heavy
he shakes his head from side to side
to keep awake he thinks of terrible things
like the time big ole spotty Betty stole his lunch
and stamped on it with her big ole leather sandals
right there in the playground in front of everyone
or the time that Nathan whose Dad is super rich
snapped all his pens and pencil in half
right there in the classroom in front of the English teacher
and got 3 days detention
all this remembering has made him as mad as a snake
he now wants it to come streaking across the room to rip his face off
‘cause he is good and mad and ready for it
he is tired of always taking it, and taking it, and taking it
he is now ready to do some giving
he closes his eyes squinch-face tight
inches up further against the headboard
clenches his fists as tight as tight can be
kicks the blankets onto the floor
and waits, and waits, and waits
eventually he opens his right eye just a smidge
and looks over to where it is
it’s still there sitting quietly
not moving not breathing
his older brother’s big ole back-pack
that he borrowed for a camping trip with Dad and uncle Lonnie.
A storm rages as I smile,
I wonder sometimes if people know how I feel inside,
It seems they look right through me,
Inside I'm unsure of his love it seems he knows each insecurity,
I remember seeing the covers this morning as I rose,
As I dreamt last night I thought I was lieing down beside him,
I reached out and touched his pillow he had not slept upon it,
Keeping the faith and trusting our love I looked around,
The house was empty he was gone, I wondered quivering inside,
Where he had crept off to, he always managed to get away,
Before the wee hours and before early morning love burned true,
I went to sleep warmed by love somehow during the night I lost him,
Deep inside rages on the storm I've tried to hide,
The one that would end this love so sweet,
I've savored it's powerful effect the one it had on me,
If I've lost him what did he mean by loving me, and having me,
And taking me in his arms, like a child at play,
I gave my love away, his practice,
The rehearsal for reality, the stage is set somewhere,
Love has been prepared for, I'll never find this place,
I could not walk right in, I'd like to find them in each others arm's,
In the grips and in the clenches of love's strong embrace,
To finally be face to face to congratulate the victororious,
The one who pushed aside all the tenderness and changed his mind,
She used him to chase the cold away, the shelter his arms provided,
Was a haven and a refuge to my heart and what was inside,
Now it's time for the wounds that love inflicted to be healed by my desire,
I'll find a new love or at least I'll take some time,
To reflect on what love has taught me, and be the wiser,
Because in your heart you'll know as all the others,
The storm that rages on inside me...
A feeling likened to shadowed depths,
Encircled by walls of icy whispers.
An emptiness, echoing in the chest—
In time, it transformed,
A beacon brightening a soul adrift.
Gentle fingertips trace languid paths,
Along honey-gold walls of desire,
Shaping destiny with a simple curve,
A breath, a pulse, a quiet unfolding.
Her skin, moonlit parchment warm to the touch,
My fingers, master brushstrokes
Finding the peak of rounded hills,
A teasing stroke of nature’s sealed springs.
Lips brush the dawn of silken peaks,
Soft whispers of touch,
Tiny sparks rushing to a distant crest,
Rippling through the sweet caramel bliss.
Like moonlight spilling over midnight’s edge,
Fingers trace paths known only to stars—
A song without sound hums in the silence.
Her body speaks,
In trembling shadows and light that flickers.
A soft touch glides,
Brushing against the heat,
Deeper now, where tremors stir beneath.
Each pulse a quiet plea.
Heart meets solace,
A slow descent into hidden fire,
Parting wetness like rain on thirsty earth,
A gentle press into the world’s quiet secret.
Dipping into the honeyed well,
Warmth wraps us in gold.
A trail of milk weaves through folds,
A steady drip of heat melting into her core.
Like wax from a slow-burning candle,
She softens, bends to each stroke.
A slow surrender to the flame's tender pull.
Desire overflows, the pot spills over.
A melody escapes, soft as dawn's first light.
Angels hum with each quiver of the sky.
A breath shudders,
Fingers trace fire down trembling skin—
The world clenches, then unfurls.
Bliss, endless, deep,
Pouring like light through the soul.
To the moon and beyond, we traveled,
A night to behold, eternal in its wake.
Althroughout childhood, you would talk about your love story
how when you’re older
“you just know! you just know!”
but when I told you I was engaged,
the story changed
it wasn’t love but pregnancy
that brought the two of you together.
What about this WONDEROUS love
that brought the both of you together?
But instead, it was a child conceived out of wedlock
whispers of love and promises, only said in tangled up sheets
but, when it’s all said and done, they fade away.
I wonder is there ANY resentment from HAVING to get married?
Did you cry when the child was dying
And “have to” marry this man was leaving your body?
Why did you go through with it?
Of course, you gasped and couldn’t understand why,
his and my love
because sadly, you’re never felt it.
Those tear stained faced nights
And fleeing for safety
Our close knitted bond
and waking up to screaming
your entire life thrown out
ALL for a lie
for a baby that didn’t even survive.
Mom, did you cry? Did you cry? Did you cry?
Mom, did you cry on your wedding night?
And why did you follow through with the lie?
Why didn’t you pick up and leave once the child died?
run run run
run away from the fear and hollowed pain
run from the sex that was considered to be ”love”
which is far from the same
no wonder you fear that your daughter is doing the same
You tell her she can leave
she doesn’t have to stay
would you tell yourself that on your wedding day?
you tell me that we can stay engaged
for as long as we need no rush you plea
do you wish you did the same?
Panic clenches and grips your vocal cords.
Mom, did you cry on your wedding night?