Long Clockwork Poems

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


Premium Member Evil Shadows Any Time and Everywhere

Trains run alight terminate on time like clockwork 
never ending endless procession of precision conductors
the conducted walk down the line warped tracks of 
cynically divided isles dead ends of ‘labour making free’ 

Evil strips uniformed confluence stripes and leather

Coated terrified collection production of space soap
horror lampshades shearing shorn haired tattoos the
undivided divide of power abomination horrid abnormal
‘normality’ represses guilt projected trans-re-and aggression

Evil does other in the guise of completed concentration

Concerted action blisters scorches screams cacophonies 
children on father’s lap blue eyed dancing and laughing
kisses of love adoration cuddly dolls miniature life’s train
sets model schema roles toys games memories distraction

Evil giggles corporates shapes what past and future holds

Mothers craft homes happy families embrace posterity apple 
pies devotion roast cinnamon cranberry turkeys tarts in ovens 
pious allegiance compassion progress contrast splitting off piano 
forte harmonious singing rejoicing at mantelpiece and altar

Evil mocks smouldering torches paradise’s apple deprivation

Juvenile followers of fashion compose indoctrinate compost
hail philosophy’s trampled ideology void of virtue meaning
distorted communion bread wine blind vision blind-sight vortex
trailing inscribing engraving present history timeless repetition

Evil tracks moribund humanity dignity degeneration and disgust

Unless we reflect examine investigate inside and around
us the smokescreens stacked ember ashes individual ‘Self’
universal pursuit of righteousness flames of denial denigrating
potential illuminate conscience honesty fallibilities blue prints 
for darkness and unless we act and fight stand up and even then

Ubiquitous evil at this very moment will cast its seeds and shadows
will unbalanced fires raise their ugly head and minds and shoulders gas 
and bullets terror grenades rockets mines warfare starving emaciation
lest we forget the prototypes the moulds automated conveyor belts evil
we can not abdicate responsibility for blatant murder of the human race

Auschwitz is everywhere and there is no hierarchy of evil


July 1st Independence Day (Canada)


Not If I Should See You First

a good axe, a fine form and a full house

  can you dig this scene of clockwork clowns?

    little hierarchies 'mongst the mediocre

 I'm all too often hit when this stuff comes down

        watch that river running in reverse

 you will not see me, not if I should see you first
 
                            -

  the brothel basement, walled in, tortured soul

      blind to beauty from pillar to post

sings like a cowboy, never once saw a horse

'standing in what looks like bordelaise sauce

should you think that it could get no worse

  you don't phase me, not in any universe

                               -

         walk barefoot n' I've  got dirty feet

                 like any sailor far away from sea
        
                               -

  with a little love, what is there to lose?

      no one going nowhere no time soon

    inane skeletons, all poised for conquest

     n' falling nothing short of the burlesque

         over-hyped, deluded amateurs 

we'll step outside, I'll take anything that hurts

                                -

            watching the river run in reverse

         you will not see me, not if I should see you first







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Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Departure

Early rising
Before dawn light;
Airport glimpse

~~~~~~~~~


Departure gate
Foreign currency notes;
Highway moments

~~~~~~~~~


Time moves briskly
Departure lounge;
Smooth flight schedule

~~~~~~~~~


Airport protocol
Check-in follow-up;
Boarding pass in-hand

~~~~~~~~~


Trip entourage
Simple instructions;
Meeting on-site

~~~~~~~~~


Gateway in sight
Minimal delay;
Not much to say

~~~~~~~~~


Fancy frames
Attention to details;
Elegant manners

~~~~~~~~~


Just for today
Make things happen;
Clockwork persuasion

~~~~~~~~~


Overseas engagement
Courtesy call respite;
Polite politics

~~~~~~~~~


Look out and see
Sense clear agendas;
Meeting of minds

~~~~~~~~~


Ready for take-off
Flight control green light;
Chart new flight path

~~~~~~~~~


Fly the friendly skies
Pictures of home;
Departure terminal

~~~~~~~~~


Doing with tact
See the facts;
Words frame pact

~~~~~~~~~




Leon a Enriquez
28 July 2015
Singapore
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Ms Black the Hypochondriac

I once worked with a youth who had gingivitis
Twenty years younger yet she already had arthritis

Pretty enough in spite of her dermatitis
She so craved attention we all thought caused by meningitis

Winters seemed worse with time off due to bronchitis
Bouts in hospital for appendicitis and diverticulitis

Regularly like clockwork she came down with severe vacationitis
After each self-prescribed vacation she’d strangely suffer from moneyitis

She talked our ears off we kept hoping she’d get laryngitis
But no, it was only bursitis and colitis followed by gastritis

Ms. Black sure was high maintenance with her neurosis and neuritis



AP: 1st place 2025, Honorable Mention 2020
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member Whispers of My Soul

"Whispers of My Soul"


                                     Life special moments of splendors
                                        Smoldering away like embers

                                           Sweet smiles of innocent
                                   Fades away like the moon crescents

                                                  Its safe haven
                                                  Only hardens

                                       A little innocent babe lurks
                         To be held in someone’s arms like clockwork

                For the wondrous feelings of being nestled in mother's bosom
                                                Instead of random

                                      Silently yearning to be loved  
                                               But always unloved

                         Whispers of my soul, to embark on a fresh day 
                                             With memories of play
                                   Whispering good morning, refreshing
                                        Kisses good night, quenching
                                         With the person I’m in love 
                                  Heart full of emotion for the one I love

                                                 By: Eve Roper
                                                    12/20/2014
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Clockwork Beneath the Skin

The Clockwork Beneath the Skin

I unbraided through my temples a flock of deaf bells,
and my eyelids rang like harmonics shattered in mirrors.
My knees became altars burned by a wax sun,
and my ribs beat a funeral march for sunken ships.
I spat the moon from my throat, an old, cold coin,
and caught it in my palms like a bird without a name.

I searched for your name in my veins, the way one searches for water through stones,
and the echo came back mute, dressed in soot.
I shook chandeliers of nerve and ice from the ceiling,
I bit the plaster off the walls of sleepless nights,
and the floor filled with footsteps that belong to no one anymore.

With arms stretched toward the sky you break like a branch of lead,
in your gaze lie fallen altars and angels stripped of wings,
your body stitched into the shroud of an unfinished prayer,
your soles are anchors driven into ground that keeps on fleeing.

The bell sews its echo into the eardrum of the whole world;
the windows untie the eaves fastened to evening's mouth,
and, boomerang, the silver pries open crates full of darkness
and wraps the body and its shadow, stitched with the same thread.
On the back stairs, the children inside me prayed backward.

Onto the tiles of your house I fell like a rain of bells,
and the drops, like caravans, drank up the frost that followed,
and pressed to my temple, a scaffold behind bars,
I clenched between my teeth the jellyfish garment of the night
and undid the buttons, like veins laid open to the stars.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Runaway Studies Books of Her Idol In Library

To diary:

Mama, by now, I suspect you are on my trail
to Phoenix, however I do think you figured
it all out-the red herrings... and are instead
on the right path to Seattle. A part me wants
to challenge you. As much as you are in 
pursuit of me, I am in pursuit of reading
about Evelyn Lau, teenage runaway and poet...
for the second time.


To diary:

I Got tree sap, aka hotel front desk worker,
for another blanket. It's too easy, mama. Watch."Ma'am,
my mother in room 101 request a blanket and pillow,"
and like clockwork she gave it to me, then I pause,
"ma'am can we also get some toothbrushes and toothpaste"
and like clockwork she gave it to me. What a tree sap.
Although this time our eyes met and I think she's onto
me. But that didn't stop me from taking a green apple
and newspaper. mama, let me tell you these come in
handy... let me tell you... oh, oh i just figured it
out, the lobby's  the first floor there can't be a room
101. She's playing me. What else is new.



Today I went to the library 
sitting at a nook
quite contrary
reading a book

the staff was cold as ice
i say screw the kiddie section
my answer not so nice
why is this the wrong direction

it's hard being eleven
where their prying eyes
on me being adult smart
they try to befriend and spy

the books I read
the information I consort
the knowledge I feed
the ideologies I support

baby girl plays the sham
changing the Lau book
with green eggs and ham
and returning their looks

this is all too irony
sleeping on the streets
dealing with their tyranny
and trying to be upbeat

I pass these books and nooks
I say She who forges her own path
being mistook
wields her own fate
with upending wrath
to being one of the greats


Paris Pachecho

connie pachecho

12/30/16
Form: Rhyme

Divine Timing

Come now and follow me into the depths of my apathy
You might have to burn me but somehow I think I could die happily

The man that you programmed got viruses like a computer
Why is the life that you gave me somewhere in the future

I break from these chains and I run from this dungeon like clockwork
My mother comes running in terror, won't somebody stop her

I'm so far from perfect but perfect is always beside me
I shine my own brightness with light that is actually blinding 

Come now in all of your greatness, I'm so through with hiding
You're past due but it's not my place to critique divine timing
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Another Low

A Synogogue in flames, and the hate..Whats all this in
Australia mates? Live and let flourish is what I know
The older generations taught me so.' Strong work
Ethics; and time for your brother, not this 'clockwork destructive'
Well..? That belongs to others.!! The jackboot crowd clad
In hugo boss, facades of order, thin veneer some gloss..
No doubt self-haters.) Devoid of love; acting with satan the
Hand in their glove..Yet things can be turned.' Things can
Be better, follow the spirit of Love, not the dark rules letter
You were told 2020 (and not my me!) there is no law just
Made up rules you see.!! Those born of the spirit, can break
All chains' in Christ is freedom ( its real simple and plain.)
Sisters and brothers if you wish 'truly to live' step away from all fear, reach for the stars now, His greater gifts are so near.!
Form: Rhyme

Ode to Joy by Friedrich Schiller (translation)

Ode to Joy
by Friedrich Schiller
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
               
Joy, bright spark of divinity,
Daughter of Elysium,
lit by the fire You inspire,
we enter Your immaculate home!
Here we’re bound by strong enchantments;
nevermore may custom divide;
every man becomes a brother
where Your gentle wings abide.

Whoever has achieved the prize
of abiding friendship, warm and free,
whoever has a loving wife,
join us in this Jubilee!
All who have at least one friend,
join us in our song of praise!
But he who never helped a friend
must leave in tears this song we raise.

Every creature drinks of joy
flowing from kind nature's breasts;
just and unjust, each requires,
all alike, to taste her gifts. 
Earth bestows vines’ wine and kisses,
and when we face a friend’s sad end,
though the worms must have their feast,
still the gentle Cherubs attend.

Joy commands the tensioned mainspring
of the clockwork universe;
Joy, oh Joy!, the wheel revolves
through the arcs our lives rehearse.
She coaxes buds from newborn flowers,
suns from distances supreme,
she rotates spheres through vast expanses
the human eye cannot discern.

True friends stay true unto the end
and even the worm must do its duty;
as the Cherub stands before God,
the heavens revolve in glorious beauty.
Then gladly, like those heavenly spheres
which He placed in the firmament,
brothers, you must run your race
like a hero bent on conquest.

From the Truth’s emblazoned mirror,
the searcher sees Her reflected smile,
and for all those who are girded in honor,
She continues to the last mile.
High on Faith's tall, sunlit mountains
Oh, see how fair Her banner flies!
Through the breach of opened coffins,
see how the Angels’ choirs rise!

Gods can never be requited,
suffice it, in their image, to be.
Grief has never won a battle,
so persevere with gaiety.
Hate and vengeance die forgotten,
but Love can woo a mortal foe;
though tender teardrops cannot touch him,
kindnesses may bring him low.

Rescue from the tyrant's fetters,
mercy to the villain mean,
hope for all in their dying hours,
pardon at the guillotine!
All the dead shall live in heaven!
Brothers, drink and all agree:
every sin shall be forgiven
and hell forever cease to be.

Amen!
Form: Rhyme

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