Long Crawling Poems
Long Crawling Poems. Below are the most popular long Crawling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crawling poems by poem length and keyword.
On Sky shielded palm,
When sun couldn't make rain calm...
Nothing remains so.
At Moon subtle cheek,
When stars wouldn't look that weak,
Nothing remains so.
Over running days...
When strength couldn't make nice hays,
Nothing so remains.
Behind crawling nights...
When nerves wouldn't silent frights,
Nothing so remains.
Around oily shrine...
When deities couldn't dare dine,
So remains nothing.
Far burnt sacrifice-
Baal failed; Elijah suffice,
So remains nothing.
Like ...
Light, In the silence of an empty night
Shines nothing, finds no fault or expose shrines...
Rather enhance fear to ignite lone fright,
Far away ever experienced designs.
Its rays can't burn waiting sacrifices;
Neither could its whisper silent dark sky.
As the air gently blow it whistle,
Thoughts are swirling slowly in brain;
Jaunt to the fingers slowly
As a crawling centipede, nurture it and let
It spirit drop in to your pen like some
Water spills on the floor and spread.
After it's being written,
Make a review to avoid mistake.
Post it on soup, be expecting variety
Of comments because your aim to join soup is to
Know more about poetry.
Some comments may
Be harsh or kind,lodged in the heart
Like a heavy stone or lodged in the in the heart like a
Strand of a cluster of cotton wool.
My advise to new writers.
Anyone which comes your way absorb and digest it,
Make use of what is yours in it and
Make no allay of yourself.
Some personal issues may also stand as an obstacle,
Make no allay of yourself.
But people here on soup are generous
They always give their support.
As a new writers we need your help,
You that have much knowledge of poetry than we do.
Any mistake or misused of words in our poem,
Please do notify us we count on you.
22/May/2015.
Contest: Advice for new writers.
Sponsor: Tyshawn Knight.
PRETTY FANTASY
Life didn’t promise anything in anything
Yet, man always sought to have everything in everything
Reality got so real; people got scared to face reality
Many have many big dreams in few sleeps a night
Many are even dreaming when they are not sleeping
Sweet dreams of a better future in a bad present
The ugly man got so handsome in his dreams and got married to a pretty lady
Before too much was enough; he woke only to stare at his ugly wife and his ugly self
He built many mansions and owned estates in his dream
When he woke up; his landlord already has an eviction notice pasted on his door.
Life of everything in everything is everything
It happened that everything in everything wasn’t everything
Therefore, man was forced to make do with few things around
The insatiable few refused to make do with the few things
They sought few ways to satisfy their need for everything
The fantasy must get real; they planned days and nights to get a plan
Mid way in the tunnel; they thought they saw a light of consolation
No need to keep on crawling in the tunnel; they have seen what they seek
They stuck to the light and refused to reach the end of the tunnel; then walk out
They refused to leave the tunnel and became victims of the earthquake of the tunnel.
My reality confessed to be in love with me
She promised to be faithful to me if only I will accept her
She wasn’t that bad; she would make a good wife
I would have loved to marry her but am still in love with my fantasy
I was forced to choose between reality and fantasy
My fantasy on her own wasn’t bad at all; she was so pretty
I always dream of her even when am not sleeping; thinking of her daily
I fantasized of her so much; I almost became obsessed with my fantasy
I wasted so much time in choosing between reality and fantasy
Reality got impatient; she struck me a blow that cleared my pretty fantasy.
Lordvip
D’ Poetic Beast
07068097126
Dusk brings a primal knowing into my soul, I can smell the nearness of the watching ones. Animal is here, I have no idea if it be bear, panther, deer, quail or mouse, but I feel it watching me. It waits for me to still myself or leave; my choice. My keen dog hearing listens for the snap of a twig or a crunching hoof print in the spongy leaves. I hear nothing. It is as silent as death in the timber tonight.
birds have disappeared
a cattail moves gently
shadows get darker
Sit as still as I dare, staring into the surrounding forest, trying not to think about whatever is crawling up my left knee. Spider? Chigger? Wood tick? I dare not smack it, not wanting to scare the animal away. I sense something ethereal and wonderful is going to happen at this pond, surrounded by giant oaks.
tree turns into fawn
shes followed by her mother
buck takes breath away
They enter the pond in a majestic sort of way. Pond parts as they glide into it, turning themselves into it as if they have been gently stirred by a giant hand. Words have not been invented to describe my feelings as I stare at these mesmerizing creatures. They do not see me, but one may sense I am here. There is a hoarse cough. They still themselves. Stand as statues. Ears raised. Is it my smell? They continue drinking.
fireflies flit by
adding magic to the night
i stay forever
Written 8-29-2020
Contest: Let the Pens Flow Haibun Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jenish Somadas
Bleak night, last hours, under fire in the mud, enemy comes
Grenades blast, riffles fire, blinding ends, relentless rain
Freezing men in trenches hide behind dulled blades
Bayonets forget the future and the past
Uniformed souls for glory charge ahead
Then the long haul in covered soil starts
Grueling battles take them one and all
Wrinkled fingers wet, pull the trigger
Foxhole converts keep Jesus close
Crawling in the dirt to die
Climbing over bodies in the dark
Voices buried, a cry is heard, fatality
Killed men don’t pray
They lay down in the mud
Become the mud when fallen dead
Seen through brief flashes
Gun fire silhouetted
A kaleidoscopic light
View of death down in the trenches
Down in the ugly mess they made
New Year
fair body of time
New Year
not every single moment is fair
old
crawling forward
to get a life
on resolution
a new diary
with a lotus stick
saint to devil,
evil to wise,
night to day,
winter to spring,
cold to sun-rising,
everything greets new year
oh; not newly
but by the old mauve in new urn
changing attire
never can change the authentic inside
changing resolution diary
never can change the inside intimacy
evil
soars by own wings
to taste the time newly
saint
flutters by own wings
to taste the time newly
new time never finds new taste
by new costume old becomes new guest!
- 06/01/2020 CTG, BD
We can no longer continue as we are, souls weary from nerves,
creatures grinding their lives in worries, fearing death because they have never truly lived.
We have lost ourselves in the maps of days, searching for treasures that do not shine under the sun,
and we have forgotten how to sip from the morning as from a cup full of light.
Every step pressed upon the earth becomes a shadow crawling towards dusk,
and our laughter, once a river of silver, has turned into extinguished whispers.
We seek meaning in the mists of memories and hide from the present that burns,
for we fear to look into the mirror of time and see unfamiliar faces.
We live through the stories of others, dreaming of the courage we have not embraced,
and our souls long for songs to free us from silence.
We fear death not because it comes, but because it catches us unprepared,
for we have not dared to dance under the open sky, to love with open hearts.
But perhaps, deep within us, there is a spark waiting to be touched,
a desire to truly live, to shake off the invisible chains.
Every day, we have a chance to be reborn from the ashes of regrets,
to write our own stories with ink of courage and threads of light.
Perhaps we will learn to live without fear, to embrace the unknown,
and thus, in the end, we will see death not as an end, but as a new calling.
As the day dawns and God yawns
There is sunshine and shade, this day that He made
There's colors and vibrants for us to see
There's teeming life under the sea
There's blue in God's Big Blue Eye
It's expanse, the first heaven, we call the sky
The orchestra of bird songs
The crawling of creatures creeping along
And the movement of God's crowning glory
The first to Second Adam completes the story
As the sun courses its way
Sometimes the moon appears during the day
Not so much the stars in their place
They will appear in time's constant race
We love, we laugh and we live
In this day as God does give
Gives to all across this plane
The earth blemished with every mountain range
Rain will fall on all in pace
This is known as God's common grace
As He knows all and everything
Nothing escapes His noticing
With all the blessings and curses extended
He has and is rolling back the curse intended
Now back to the green grasses and trees
His italic psithurism turns into a cool breeze
In a land where we are free to roam
This is one mansion we call our home
And there are many mansions as Jesus has said
As He spoke Creations words He'll speak again
As God has established our days and bounds
(We are all anticipating the trumpet sounds)
As bird songs started the day, they now end their flight
A lone train whistle calls out through the night
And His susurrations are, as every new day dawns
Another day starts over as our God yawns
EXECUTION
Fire! Fire! Fire !
Dreams come and go
In the midst of the thought of a
Dead and the living
Confined in its galley deep inside
A dungeon, waiting to be wasted
In not a far distance time
I am a dead that lives : Oh forgive me!
Of all the robbing, kidnapping and millions of crimes
That rock the world in fright
Beating hard, chastening and pruning
I am the dead that lives : Oh preserve me!
Let not my body be thrown
To the flying vultures and the crawling maggot
Hence deflowered its raging beauty that
Attract earthly ladies like a moth in the nightlight
I am a dead that speaks: Oh remember me
With my little chicks left uncared
And my dearest that is heavy with pregnant
Twins or trio, i will not wait to see
Neither will i touch before the dust return to dust
The vesper is nigh to dim the daylight in a matching fire
That send the words of my into memories
I am a dead that moves : Oh heavens gate
Prepared for the induction, i hope you can open now
While i crawl in the sound of the gunshot
Before i will be accelerated in the speed of ghost return
Only in a flashing dream
Trembling and in awesome goodbye to all
My treasures, wherein i took the pleasure
My weeping mother that feeds me with her milk
My jewel on whose breast i rest
My replicates, the hope of my regeneration.
Form:
Step Outline- Hiking Trail (A Horror)
Prologue
Ext. Woodland Park, Upstate California- Sunset
It’s mid-autumn, hot. A week before school starts, there’s a family gathering. A young woman is arguing with her father. She’s holding onto her food. Then, she grabs her purse and storms off. Her father calls after her, but she’s heading into the mouth of the woods.
ACT I
Ext. The mouth of the woods- Dusk
She walks along the hiking trail, grumbling about her father. She takes a bite of her hotlink and complains about leaving her beer behind. She isn’t alone.
Int. Feelings
She wants to have one family outing where she doesn’t fight with her dad. It’s the same repeating argument, just a different scene. He always eats away at her good time. Why can’t Dad let me be?
Ext. Right at the throat of the woods- Dusk
She shouts to the listening woods she doesn’t want to return to her father. And the beast that’s stalking her listens.
ACT II
Ext. Swallowed by the woods- Dusk
The beast watches the woman slide down the woodland path. She’s speaking to herself aloud.
Int. Thoughts
Are her troubles so loud that they have to escape her body? If the beast sinks its teeth into her throat, will her words of anguish spill out with her blood? And then she shouts she doesn’t want to return to her father. If she doesn’t have any plans to leave the woods, he should have his fill.
ACT III
Int. Inside the belly- Dark
There are blistering bubbles below her. She lost a shoe and three toes. The walls flex and relax against her crawling hands. She didn’t know someone was tailing her and listening. She was so consumed with her fight with her father that she got devoured by another man.