Long Concocted Poems
Long Concocted Poems. Below are the most popular long Concocted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Concocted poems by poem length and keyword.
I shudder at the thought of each day giving way to night
for I know they will arrive garbed in thin veils of white
Through windows ghosts fly, though they're closed tight
Moaning my name until I think I might die from fright
I have done nothing to them, so why can't I escape
when I feel their foul breath on the flesh of my nape?
They ride on the wind, exposing their ghoulish shape
I'll stare at those scowling faces with my mouth agape
I've screamed and I've hit but they laugh at my fear
With evil eyes they taunt me as they glower and leer
The wind's begun to howl, and still, they hover near
I tremble in bed when their intent becomes quite clear
I hear them whispering vile words in a concocted spell
But the words they're chanting, I cannot hear very well
These ghosts haunt me each night from where they dwell,
Out of the darkness they swarm from the fires of Hell
Tonight, I'll be brave when they come from the fiery deep
I will stand before them, my tears I will dare not weep
and chase the wraiths from my home, each ghostly creep
I hope they will fade away so that I might peacefully sleep
If only you knew the feel of a zephyr,
With its current swooping around hillsides
Ruffling the spruce trees everywhere,
Or descend downwards towards verdant vales
Where flowers bloom all through the year.
If only you knew what the oceans utter
As wonderful waves smash into each other,
Or roll nonchalantly towards the bays,
Destroying sand castles or wiping up
The poor love letters which were written there.
If only you knew the various sounds of Earth,
The laughter of little children playing in our parks,
The parade of grown-ups commemorating feasts,
The sounds of aeroplanes fighting for supremacy,
Whilst on the ground tanks rumble on firing at will.
If only you knew the evil concocted by selfish persons,
Where kindness seems to be at a premium.
Yet I discern others who are compassionate
And help others less fortunate than themselves.
How grateful receivers of good works will be.
If only you knew how many angels fly above
Around the silver stars that orbit in perfect harmony.
Angels that care for this poor land which
We have ruined successfully through our unwanted trash.
While food is thrown away when others die in famine and pain.
Placed 1
Some folks buy choc'lit for almost every special event.
I've heard of hubbies buying it for discord to prevent!
But I don't need a motive or any momentous occasion.
I'll savor that ambrosia anytime, with little or no persuasion!
Choc'lit white, light or dark, it really matters not.
Better yet with nuts! Now that really hits the spot!
'Tis the nector of the gods as that rich, pure choc'lit
Oozes over and saturates a delectable banana split!
Should my spouse ever muse, "Whatever shall I bake?"
My reply will always be, "I want a German choc'lit cake!"
And there's no better way my taste buds to seduce,
Than to end a sumptuous meal with a creamy choc'lit mousse!
When on occasion too many rum-filled choc'lits I ate,
It made me somewhat giddy and difficult to navigate!
My feelings you would certainly never, ever ruffle,
Should you deign to offer me a gooey choc'lit truffle!
The return to dust is inevitable - it we cannot postpone,
So I've concocted this epitaph to etch upon my stone:
"Dear Lord, be merciful as my eternal bourne I begin;
Please forgive me, a chocoholic, should it be deemed a sin!"
Mind, like a deciduous forest
has lost all its foliage,
all leaves torn away
by the autumnal blasts.
The brain where great schemes were concocted
is now an abyss where spiders sway
It is bare – dismally barren
of all memories – sweet and sour.
Like a kite afloat in the boundless sky
moving nowhere, but as the wind directs,
cut out from the past, turned from the present
with the future yet to surge from the abyss
or like serpents intertwining,
hissing in turmoil within the brain,
unable to sense the gusty blast,
or hear the whispering air,
dead to sounds that disturb,
deaf to songs that soothe,
like a phantom he moves weird,
drifting far away to a space and time impenetrable,
with nothing to make the mind agog
or depress it to let out a sigh.
Loitering on roads without hurrying feet,
with no bliss coming on the way
to run or hasten to embrace
or fear to be missed sore.
Passing through dark labyrinthine tunnels,
forever barred with no exit,
churned in oblivion, oblivious of all,
he remains a spectral facsimile
of his onetime self, plummeting into a black hole.
The pulse of a heart beat
is all that keeps him alive,
all else is dead…… !
He lives with dreary nights ahead,
that shall not know another morrow!
Boom ....boom....boom
Guns roar, bombs blast, causing
death, deformity and destruction,
leading to distress and doom.
Streets reek with the smell of newly shed blood.
Dead bodies pile, all around is carnage.
Dark clouds hang on the horizon
In one name or other, violence is concocted.
Frivolous ideologies kill lives of innocents
with the world turning into a battlefield,
We are besieged by terror's sting.
We need an escape from this inferno.
Pure harmony is what the world longs for.
Let no cannons roar, let no rebellion shriek
Let no wounded soldier fall down and die
Let no woman become a widow, no child- an orphan
Let no drop of blood spill on the cobalt streets
Paint the canvas in colors of love and kindness.
Strive to build a land of peace-
Peace is an energy field much more potent than a battlefield
Is peace merely the absence of war?
No, it is a tranquil feeling in the breast,
the absence of fear, an all encompassing aura of safety
the annihilation of prejudices and a tight knot of oneness
It is being in peace with oneself and others!
Hope this calming dream and lovely fancy
of mine shall no more remain a wild fantasy
You are far away now
Off in fields of gold
Dappled with evenings hot velvety light
90 degrees of separation has dulled the sword
eased the pain
The grasshoppers chirp in unison to your labors but they no longer ache in your solar plexus
Nor mine
What sweet sorrow is loss and gain
I now walk down the very paths I have always so longed for
the dark rich peat paths of happiness
contentment oozes from these fingertips as I write and I wonder if happiness is poetry
Or does it preclude it all together
The night sky fills with stars
The stars fill with fire flies that burst out of them like infinitesimal lightning bolts
jettisoned to my soul
he and I chase storms on decks swirled in smoke
We banter and bay at one another
you are in a field of gold somewhere
or beside
a river bed
The smell of the wet earth of shore beneath you reaches me… but momentarily
dismissed as the ash of the bonfire of a week ago fire or the grill of last night’s
unbelievably tasty ribs he concocted from air for me and me alone
but then we shared with so many
dinners
Lingers on my lip tips…the bottom edge
I kiss him and mean it with all I am
A being
a re-being
Super beings are we
all
and our colors wash
upon the canvas of my life
melding into one great magnificent us
Spectacular are we
the creatures who so love life
we give our only begotten selves to each other
and never ever forsake
us
Jonah invented the whale
The first man ever to sail
He went round the globe
In his best Sunday robe
His invention was destined to fail
For Noah had plans for an ark
It’s construction no walk in the park
It took a few years
Some blood sweat and tears
But finally Noah made his mark
His wife tried most every ruse
To convince him to go for a cruise
He said, “I’ve been told
To fill up the hold
With gerbils and bush kangaroos”
They brought on the creatures in pairs
The rhinos and hippos downstairs
But space was so tight
Some put up a fight
Especially the grizzly bears
When the rains came the ark was a float
And Noah, on the bridge he did gloat
Saying “didn’t I say?
It would happen one day”
Said his wife “I could rip out his throat,
This is not what most folk call cruising
With gorillas and lemmings and ewes in
My cabin at night
It just isn’t right
I don’t find it very amusing”
So Noah’s wife concocted a plot
To scupper her hubbys new yacht
With her turn at the wheel
Her nerves she did steel
And crashed into Mount Ararot
You stir your tea a bit o'er long,
The sugar just won't melt,
And someone thinks you're trying,
To draw attention to yourself.
You're listening to music,
Relaxing with some friends,
And someone says this song must make,
You think of some love's end.
You're concentrating on some task.
Just work, no time to brood;
But sure as shootin' someone thinks,
You're in some kind of mood.
You sit alone, relaxing,
A blank look on your face.
You're told you gave a dirty look,
And you're put in your place.
Again your mind's on something,
That requires some thought,
And someone's talking to you,
But your answer isn't caught.
You're told that you are rude and crude,
Antisocial to the max,
Though you tried to be polite,
Show patience where it lacked.
The preconceived impression,
One may have of someone else,
Was probably concocted,
In one's mind and nowhere else.
Just because one may misread,
One's unconscious gesture,
Or an expression on a face,
It's all one's own conjecture.
You think you know somebody.
You think you know them well.
Where you got that impression,
No tongue on earth can tell.
Mime moost re cent poem titled
Mental Illness...Inherent Since Birth
fourth line down lacked an accidentally
ohm mitt head "rack", thus presenting dearth
of understanding, and
set in motion a domino effect
(hard to believe), but YES
offsetting tilt of the Earth,
hence an immediate necessity arose
to forewarn unsuspecting readers
experiencing swollen
gaseous equatorial (abdominal) girth
homeopathic remedy easily concocted
brewing herbal tea over hearth
(chamomile my favorite - with a dollop
of honey), a curative
that doth mesh well
synchronizing linkedin saw tooth
assemblage mitigating tell
tale grinding gears finds unwanted
frictional heat,
which haint so swell
possibly causing,
(when sprocket incorporated)
permanent chain damage
requiring extremely delicate
"heroic" measures to quell
hoop fully this poetic patch
doth not require ye tubby brash
boot more critical concern
would constitute head crash,
perhaps necessitating total revision
of poem whipped off in a dash
so concludes the rhymed reason
sent faster then
greased lightening doth flash.
As a rule we've lived with laws, some are
Part of ' the fabric' of the globe i'm quite sure.' Things like biological immunitys (gain over time) exposure to bacteria has
Worked really fine.' Developed on a framework of farming, not least foraging
In field and forest, and fighting men and
Beasts..Sometimes death occured following septic events, yet with rudimentary medicne, as humanity we beat most of these moments.' Though
Many lived in tents.' Our chickens always
Scratched the earth, and lived well on veg
Waste.' We brushed against bush and brambles, and wild produce we'd taste all
This produced a very 'hardy strain' that even beat the plauges, that hit us once and again.' The convieniance of piped water, helped even more.' By the 1950s
Our immunity was strong and sure.' Enter
2020..And we were told we needed laws.?
Laws to keep us from mingling, laws to
Lock us away.' There could be no going in
The sunshine, no singing, and definatley we (would not be allowed to pray.?) In the
Body 'or a church if you are not sure?' and
It seems to still be a thing in the U K for
Sure.. Though some wish to pray and to
Save others lives..That was only the perogative.' Of world pharma..Are my maths about right.? The same agents that
Supply drugs to (many clinics) and after
Wars..They are raking the billions, in its
Almost condoned by some type of law.'
Now to all who are confused.? I say one
Thing to you..If you Don't beleive the
Evidence..Then scientifically stay in theLat
Concocted W H O..DID WHAT STEW.!