Long Closed(a) Poems
Long Closed(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long Closed(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Closed(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
The shifting of many corporeal hands move across this dead cell,
A vacuums vortex, a psychic sponge, charging this battery of
Energy called the spirit board.
Paranormal phenomenon striking plate to enter realities plane
Of existence, for the ethereal challenged in crisis, seeking the
Threshold for spontaneous release, unto our spiritual realm.
Witchery’s board of trickery left in a polarized stance it
So entices the living with its tempting whispering of lies,
Incantations gate keepers wait on the other side of evils
Door way.
Memorizing the human sensory functions into a false
Sense of harmless mystery of the unexplained, it lures
These victims ever closer to weaving its spell of the demonic.
These capture being lost unto the hypnotic effects are
Transfixed unable to hit their override switch that controls
Their mental powers of persuasion, disabled is there strength
Of will power, they belong to the Ouija now.
Clasping do all for sides of the curtain of reality, times
Displacement begins in earnest, without hesitations
Momentary loll this dead cell bursts to life.
Black magic key has been inserted within the wooden
Door way’s heart and soul, a bizarre power bank draws
Forth the energy of the spiritual lost, swinging hells
Kept wide open.
The pancetta spins out of control, smashing against
The barriers of humanity, darkened ebony light shines
Through this doorway of evil and the flickering candle
Turns to a shades greenish blue wavering in the odious
Breeze.
The voice of a thousand screams echo in sheer delight,
We have been freed at last, broken is the trance, the boards
Hypnotic effects are dashed by the light of the dawn.
Dazed in bewilderment the voyeurs are chilled to their
Very inward bones, shaking, staring in awes amazement,
Wondering if these events really happened at all.
Then within these tented walls a voice responds to their
Questioning, laughing, as if a jackal at a fresh kill site!
Foolish mortals you know not what you have done, this
Night, but I promise thee this, laughing once again,
In a demonic under tone, none shall leave this domicile
Alive.
The entry doors lock without the human touch, the
Curtain windows pull closed, a momentary stilled
Scream, then all is silent, what remains is left up
To my readers to visualize, as the final candle
Blows out!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
My name is James, born 1961
In Inverness, a small Scots town
To my father Andrew, and my mother Beryl
And Billy my brother, a pair of devils
In 67, we woke one night
Our house was ablaze, full of orange light
Our neighbour next door, for whatever reason
Started a fire, it must be crazy season
We had too move to a caravan park
By this time it,s three, to make a new start
My mother Beryl decide to leave
But the three of us left, never bothered to grieve
In the next few weeks, we ended in court
Two small children, in a marriage abort
We were asked to choose either Dad or Mum
But we ignored the parent, who went on the run
As we left the court, to start a new life
We felt sorry for Dad, as his illness was rife
He never told us that he was unwell
It would upset one of his boys, as the future will tell
Then came the night all parents dread;
Being told one of his boys is nearly dead
We were going to a boys club, on a Monday night
My brother was running so far out of sight
I turned the corner to see him ahead
No!! he's been hit by a van, Boom's Boom's dead
I ran to my father, sreaming and crying
I'm finding my life,at 7 - far too trying
After the funeral, and with my father unwell
We left Inverness, our eyes a swell
To go as two, and not three as before
It's like Mother Nature closed a door
So we headed west, to a place called Fort William
Was it in the stars, cause Billy " is " William
We moved there, as the air was so pure
Hoping my father will find his cure
For whatever reason, we left the above
We found no Angel or peaceful dove
So we headed back to Inverness
Fathers health decreasing, life still a stress
Over the next few years, i was fostered and loaned
In couples houses and children's homes
It was really strange in all those places
Different people, different faces
Then on the 16th of Feb - 76,
James, i was told, your dads very sick.
The cancer had taken your father away
To be with Billy, where you'll join them one day
In 77, i joined the Navy, as i promised my dad you see.
I did'nt enjoy it, i decided to leave
Back up north, where my futures to be
I wanted to have, what my parents had lost
And that was my aim, no matter the cost
see page 2 of 2, ty..
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/me.php
I know so much, but I do not know myself
Wolf personalities as well as those of an elf
I have put all these on the shelf
Maybe I am losing me
Maybe the world is just mean,
With all its paradoxes,
And am acting like a tinderbox
I am looking over my shoulders all times
What what I want to be some time
Even though life is what you make it, sometimes life itself makes us, we become it
Life never ends, dreams are never bent
Betwixt reality and fantasy, many things I yearn to amend
Hoping I will soon find my end
Frogs in the well do not understand the sea,
But what if I say I am that frog in the sea?, it may seem
Sounds like a complete break from reality
But I am still a finality, Indeed my finality
I have had uncountable friends
But now they are more than strangers, let's not pretend
Hey pals, invite me to the dance, wait I lack good shoes
Wasn't universally despised from you, 've got to choose
My window closed a century ago
Got to the entry of every door
Many things I had to forego
Chose a different path
And it was said that I am a psychopath
I will remain to be a cloud hanging over your shoulders
Your entire life, till you cross my borders
'Two wrongs to do make a right, an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind'
Unless this makes sense, then my path will always lead to a different direction
And we don't have to love power more than life
Thought the day I met you was the day I was born,
Seemingly, our association was the center of strife
I was chasing a ghost,
Now I am in the deep end of the pool,
But I wanna act like I can swim, yet still the ghoul
Till all is not lost
Buddies, sometimes a man has to surrender to fate
Seldom hold on your horse, it would be too late
Hope this will make sense a little longer,
'Absence makes the heart go fonder'
If you throw me cheese anytime now, in fact,
I'd still act like a rat
All is not lost
@Josemaria Joel
expectations blurred the page
of motherhood. I thought it through,
each point of view. My plans were laid
a shade of pink, a hue so new
would come upon the heels of two
who sketched my world with shades of blue
I'd framed her world for my display
a trophy of my fantasy
chiseled clear, I saw it all,
beyond the stage of snakes and snails
growing boys, trucks and toys
tossed across my pregnant form
doing mindless daily chores, I crafted dreams
rehearsed the themes, disarming tales of nursery rhymes
I'd plan her life to suit my theme
but, who was I to redesign
a perfect child, I thought I owned?
sowing selfish schemes, she'd be
cloned to be a form of me - I'd live my dream
through her, all mine, to hone, redo
a mother's fragile paper doll
I did lose sight of destiny
compared, alike, - we shared a trace
resemblance of hair and face
presumptions swept between the lines
she was not meant to be defined
this child of God withheld her dreams
of ways to make the stars align
this aquamarine was never mine
what stirred her heart - vast worlds apart
she felt the sun within her soul
and thus, I've learned
I must let go
she must be free, not who I own
I've closed a chapter to that book
one looks in awe, as she became
a person who can touch the soul
beyond my dreams, she brings to all
a million lights, they've never seen before
emerging stars are bright with gold
hers comes alive. old dreams are cold
no two alike, as it should be
each one a star with different poles
I've owned the fear of letting go
____________________________________________________
4/20/16
Contest: OWN IT!
Sponsor: Cyndi McMillan
In high school everything changes
Teachers, friends, you,
“That’s just life” they say,
And they never stop to ask
“Well, how do you feel?”
And your friends leave, and your grades decrease,
And your teachers begin to worry,
And they make you see a shrink,
But they never stop to ask,
“Well, how do you feel?”
The sky starts to crumble,
And the tears begin to fall,
And music and hoodies become your best friends,
And they never stop to ask,
“Well, how do you feel?”
And the tools come out.
And the objects fall apart,
And you reach for the closest one,
And the ask, finally,
“Well, how do you feel?”
But by now it’s too late.
Your time is up, your blood’s run out,
Your scars show for the world to see,
Cause they asked too late,
“Well, how do you feel?”
“She was so young” they all say,
But really you were old.
You’d seen so much and hurt so much,
It was time for you to go.
So you picked up the pills and washed them down
And grabbed the blades and cut
And when they finally noticed you weren’t around
It was too late you were gone.
They found your letter on the bed
And read it out at school
“You asked to late, but I don’t blame you.”
And your friends were moved to tears.
In your tree house in the yard
They found you pale as snow
Your eyes closed, a smile on your face
And they realized you were gone.
They roll up your sleeves and roll up your pants
And scream at what they see
Lines, and lines, and lines of cuts
Some healed and some not.
And they realized they should have asked in the beginning
How you felt that is, cause,
Honestly you didn’t,
You didn’t feel anything at all.
Form:
The lovely view from my wicker chair
As crows caw spring is here
And wispy clouds parade on blue
Buzzards soar without fear
Scenes so peaceful express
Times filled with much happiness
Winter a diminished thing
Unfulfilled dreams scantiness
The Star Magnolia's buds swell, wait
Open at a later date
Nature knows what to do when
Love comes and brings its fate
Nature could have locked a door tight
Held it closed for awhile
Given change opportunity
Even closed a turnstile
Events opened the pasture gate
Wide was the gap entered
Washed away the lucious pasture
Hard the red ground rendered
Decisions made in the warm spring
Render fat or its lack
Youth should search for the hightest goals
Winter's cold then won't smack
Many roads or pathways exposed
Once taken closes doors
Another opens for one's good
If evil path ignores
Written: January 17, 2017
Contest: How Long Can Poems Go?
Sponsor: Jamie Pan
Just a little life review out on the porch..Each time a person chooses a door in their life that door is partially to completely closed behind them but other doors open on down the road..Like if one wants a college education but decides to get married right out of high school then there is a pregnancy, etc..That door to college might be closed forever but then it is possible that it could open again in the future..A person can accomplish much if they set their mind to doing something special with their life..
Like autumn leaves
the years had withered and blown away.
Her schoolgirl dreams had been set aside or
if appropriate wrapped in gay-patterned paper
and placed beneath the Christmas tree of her heart.
She awoke from dreamless sleep
and wondered who she was and where she was,
but the breathing of her husband and the ticking of the clock
reminded her of the person called ‘mother’ and ‘dear’.
Almost as a duty Christmas morn had come again.
Dad would visit today
and search her face for sadness,
for only he would notice if sparkling eyes had grown dim
and if her eyes, when blinking,
stayed closed a bit too long.
Amid a gaggle of restless children
she would nod a deferential nod
and inwardly long for the days when
Dad and daughter sailed the distant reaches
of their bright vivacious minds.
The once-a-year napkins
red and green with matching placemats
were ready for the throng; and the tree,
already bending low from weight of Christmas finery
would soon be gathered 'round.
For the children it was the perfect day,
but for her the conductor's podium was a lonely place.
She knew how fragile such happiness was;
more fragile, thought she,
than the hand blown bulbs upon the tree.
The children were awake!
Excited giggles and the tearing of wrapping paper
meant that Santa Claus had really come!
Yet Santa, tired from another hectic year,
simply smiled and closed her eyes.
© 2009 James Rasmusson
I’ve always loved the challenge of traveling long-forgotten byways
Just dirt paths connecting towns that masquerade as washboard highways
With stone walls crumbling, homes shuttered closed, now seemingly abandoned
The hopelessness of poverty oft times seemed very cruel and random
One day while driving in Vermont from Rawsonville to South Peru
I had a strange experience I’d really like to share with you
While driving through a woods so dense that one could hardly even see
As if a curtain had been drawn, the woods opened up in front of me
A clearing small within the woods concealed a town as plain as day
One paved road, a church, some homes, a secret place some folks may say
No souls in sight, no one around, not one living thing to see
Though lawns were trimmed, the homes were neat, it was as perfect as could be
As quickly as the town appeared, it was a town, of that I’m certain
I found myself back in the woods, as if behind me someone had closed a curtain
Arriving home and thinking back, were things the way they really seemed
Was the hidden town even there or was it something that I had dreamed?
Although it wasn’t on the map and I could not recall my wayward track
Try as I might to retrace my route and explore Vermont’s remote outback
I never did find my long lost place, no matter how hard I looked around
So somewhere in backwoods old Vermont there still exists a mystery town.
Or does it?
Rachel’s birth brought early challenges
Surgery closed a hole in her heart
Learning disabilities discovered later
A “special” child, she pursued a regular education
But she was not regular
She learned to read a bit; could not do math
At age 30, Rachel asked why she couldn’t have children
She could, of course, but it was discouraged
Her mother’s only child would not give her grandchildren
So Rachel raises cats, several of them, for companionship
Felines brought up in a loving home
To Rachel, they are her daughters
Now her mother is getting older
She dreads the thought of Rachel placed in a group home
Rachel is still a child on Christmas and birthdays
But there is no one, no young living relatives, to step up
Her mother cries every night
In her 70s, she still works long hours
It is not knowing what will happen to Rachel
That prevents her mother from finding happiness
She prays God will help her daughter when she’s gone
It’s hard to say which of their lives is more challenging
Still, they press forward and grab every joy life offers
It is the only way
Imagine the unique problems children with disabilities face
They need our support and encouragement
Rachel gets these, but how many others do not?
*March 4, 2021
CURTAINS
Setting: A couple in their bedroom.
Characters:
Wife: Innocent and simpering. Dressed to kill.
Husband: Severe. Soberly dressed.
Dialogue:
Husband: What is that you are wearing my dear?
It looks like your mother’s curtains I fear.
Wife: The boutique was closed; a bit of a bind.
So I had make do with what I could find.
Husband: I suppose that’s what’s known as window dressing.
Wife: Oh Darling, I find that pun quite depressing.
Husband: Far more depressing for your dear Mama,
When she finds out where her curtains are.
Wife: Do you like the net curtains I’ve used as a veil?
Husband: Well … you might have removed the curtain rail.
I foresee a problem you’ve not catered for.
With that in you’ll never get through the door.
Wife: Oh yes. An oversight of mine
That calls for a little re-design.
Husband: That’s all very well, but I’m still quite appalled
And insist the curtains are re-installed.
Wife: I thought you would fancy me in these.
(Seductively) You can open the curtains whenever you please.
Husband: I walked past your mother’s bedroom tonight
And saw her undressed; a ghastly sight.
Wife: Oh … I see what you mean.
That’s quite obscene
Husband: If you didn't remove the track,
I think you'd better put them back
Epilogue An open and shut case