Long Crushing Poems

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


In Hope

I heard them say, 
that life is full of promises. 
I hear them pray, 
that God makes a way us to excel. 
I have a dream, 
and each morning I wake up just to give it a chase. 
I aim high, 
higher than where the moon and stars are placed. 
I give it a try, 
and the universe gives me a peak of what I can have. 
It's within reach, 
If I stretch further I can have a touch. 
Its all there, 
my heart and soul knows this and we take control. 
The control of life, 
steering with keen towards our goal. 
I see the light, 
Its shinning brighter for my eyes feel with glee.

...then it all comes crushing down....

I blink a bit and it comes crushing... 
down, am left lying in darkness...
It was all there, now nowhere...
shuttered...
am drowning...

How could it disappear I ask, 
How can it seem so near, 
yet so far I cannot bear, 
the thought of losing it before getting there...
How could it lead me so closer, 
yet the moment I near it vanishes in thin air...
how could it...

Painful it is to bear, 
the thought of being down brings fear, 
my mind wanders in confusion as I strive for a better,
feeling than this causing my heart to drown like it's tied to an anchor.

I must wake, 
I must rise from this wreck,
I must gather the only strength I have left to try and break,
I must take heart and rise above all fear and torture that evil can make.

and so I rise, 
in hope I find the means, 
to stand on two feet,
again to keep my goal alive. 
In hope I steer dust off the dirt, 
I take up the sword and hold it closer to my heart, 
arising from  the ashes and again seeking to fly, 
my focus now clearer and my breathe now deeper, 
I know I can do it and all it takes is the inner, 
spirit to excel above all that tries to hinder, 
me from achieving what I have been so eager, 
to find and make my whole life better. 

In hope I fly, 
In hope I try, 
In hope I strive,
In hope all I seek I shall find.

..and so I go, 
head held high and full of hope, 
heart pumping harder and mind set on my goal, 
I know, 
that failing doesn't mean the end of the road, 
I know, 
that the journey of life is full of such falls, 
I know, 
that the bad sometimes comes our way just to make us strong, 
I know, 
that the only way I can get there is by filling my heart with eternal hope. 
I know...
that in hope,
all, 
is never,
lost.
© Edd Dino  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric


Wishes From Angels

Before my fallen wings I plead
Let me carry out this deed
Find a love in desperate need
Of a white knight on a steed

I already have a girl in mind
Are souls have met forever bind
Lost in chaos, torn in time
She is my melody for this rhyme

If you let me lover her now
I'll go into the lights shroud
Commiting no unspoken vows
Salvaging a princess leaving proud

In her unrest she might die
I feel compelled to save a life
There is no reason or a why 
She can't be happy as a wife

A guarding angel I am to her
Send me to your beautiful earth
To enter a chance for rebirth
I am the remedy for this curse

I am speaking to the grim reaper
I need a miracle before I sleep sir
Letting you chase me creeper
Into the darkness ever deeper

Permit me to adjust my sails
Select a crew that never fails
Live through all the grails
Have a romance found in fairy tales

(her)He must be big and strong
Massive shoulders to carry on
The work that's hard and long
To keep me safe and right the wrong

I am sad to be like this
Crying moping and drawing a fist
To the sky, screaming a list
Of my problems little priss

Out of the shadows he came 
Bearing white, massive the same
Hushing me to comfort and explain
His business here, also his name

(Angel)My name is Micheal a worrior man
Here to change your coarse of plan
Bestow upon you an awakening fan
That keeps alive with a tan

Escape with me out of this place
Hurry, run, lets make haste
You'll remain dignified and chaste
Where no one can hurt your darling face

We could live somewhere exotic
Live the dream with love erotic
Just be us, excluding the chaotic
To decline is said to be idiotic

Grab an extra shirt and pants
We'll leave right now, expose this chance
To take hold of something with a glance
Of humanity with a slight reminisce

(girl)Alright, we can go
Somewhere warm minus the snow
Sleeping by the fires glow
Seeing more than we know

Somewhere I can where a dress
Running wild without the stress
Enjoy having emotional sex
With a man big in the chest!

(Micheal)You have made the right choice
I admire your sweet tone of voice
The way you walk and your poise
This is our moment relax, rejoice!

To this day I do enclose
A vacation that I propose
You could wear little clothes
Pushing away all your foes.

Crushing and deystroying all your demons!
Form: Ballad

Ah Tis Nothing Greater Than

Ah... tis nothing greater than...
malfunctioning heater on brisk winter day!

Thee particular date being
December twenty eighth,
two thousand nineteen, I saith
the Jack of all trades
maintenance technician

Kevin Blank said he would notify
HVAC expert in good faith,
yet to compliment clangorous din...
I called upon the ghost of Marley's wraith.

Thus despite compressor issuing
cacophonous, deafening,
ear splitting noise
clattering din louder
than convention of reindeer - 
doubled as all boys

(choir) followed by cavalcade
of santa claus, he employs,
the missus of course with equipoise,
and countless elves pressed
for service mending
broken brand new toys.

Why... yes twas during
recent brutal bitter cold spell
methought, yours truly got sent,
where absolute zero temperature
more frigid than hell

of course, I felt like human popsicle
management didn't give a lick,
no matter yours truly gave rebel yell
Billy me you, I immediately
yearned (some weeks back) for April
May, June... some tell
tale sign to alleviate pell mell

bone crushing polar vortex
preserved frozen awful
botox smile impossible mission to quell,
nor avoid frostbite 
to deep freeze every cell
millenniums later despite
climate changed dystopian future
thawed out body reason to kvell.

Forsooth mindlessly jabbering away
jaw frenziedly attempting to convey
how this schlemiel,
would be war re: not game to foray
toward distant forbidding terrain
fifty shades of gray,
alien unrecognizable – nay

boor hood of the late Mister Rogers,
nonetheless expressed gratitude
confessed, I unconsciously did pray
while suspended animation did stay

slowing or stopping
of biological function
physiological capabilities
unpitted and preserved - yea.

Hence upon being
and getting woke
feeling like I slept forever
and a day - no joke
most certainly well rested

constitution I did evoke
intensely scrutinizing men
chilled wren, and women folk,
who appeared out of this world
mutated into Roanoke
smooth as glass skin cloak

against ultraviolet rays
causing skin cancer
their attenuated limbs strong as oak
versatile to prod and poke,
whereby superior petsmart
doggone noggin could invoke

telepathic communication
interestingly enough issuing smoke
signals, whenever danger present
and capable to disappear
as if doing breast stroke.

Premium Member He Gave Her a Book

"melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams " (by poet)



a gift from my father - on the first day of college,
"Golden Treasury"...A book of poetry...
the first poem I read... "She Walks In Beauty".
I carried that book throughout my life, even when I stopped reading poems...
even when poetry wasn't the priority any more,
Instead I looked at recipe-books - how to improve my culinary skills,
and became almost a champion chef in a few months.
Wordsworth and Browning were far away from my thoughts,
Coleridge? Oh No! Porphyria's Lover, and Ancient Mariner...
did not exist in my world of reality!

how many glorious summers went by ~ how many frosty winters ~
Delicious food, excellent  company,
chasing after active children, stressing about job-opportunities,
exotic travels, grandiose entertainment ...
had time for every little trivial thing in the world...but no time for
the book my father imagined his daughter would embrace the most!

then one miraculous day...when even my father gradually forgot
the girl who used to blossom in the world of words, and poetry....
I found my precious friend collecting dust,
neglected, discarded, in the corner of a shelf..  couldn't believe it was waiting for me with a beating heart ~
each and every page came alive with a magical touch ~
still my name clearly visible, handwritten with my father's calligraphic dexterity !

almost shaking to spot my long-lost treasure, I cried!
overwhelmed with emotions, tears fell!
as if a candle burnt and melted.
every drop of tears brought back the lavender memories ~
of an exhilarating past... my passions, my yearnings,
tender dreams of lilac hues never attained, the abandoned path I was supposed to tread ...

a path strewn with lyrics and verses, ballads and
sonnets like blazing auburn leaves of autumn ~
now shockingly empty and despairingly barren.
the forgotten aspirations and never-met goals...the tremendous sense of loss,
of crushing heart-break, of torturous frustration,
all flooded in!

many lonely years have gone by!
melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams 
ultimately my first love has returned !


                
                          First Place
                         May 15, 2021
        Inspired by “ He gave her a book” contest
                  Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose

Tourette

I am a monster
A tormented work of God’s hand
I will roll over you
Like a storm
Because that I am

My energy will attract you like a swarm of bees in spring
Into your lover’s bed
Where I will remove tranquility
From you mind
Before you reject me

I am a Tesla 
Coiled
My fingers set to spark
They will suck the life out of your longing
You will desire to burn again in my hell

But you will remove me
And keep me at bay
For I am too strong in field
To leave close to your heart
Yet I will possess you

Not because I own you
Only will I own your desire
To wrap around my tongue again
And from inside your womb
You will grow a hand longing to pull me into your core

Yet I will unwillingly shake your bed 
While you try to sleep
Because I cannot stop
Even when I rest
A storm I am

Cursed am I
With a double vortex of pain
That rips at my muscles
And makes them twitch
When I want them to relax

There is lightening inside of me
That longs to be kissed into a deeper slumber
Just once, so that I can rest in bliss at your side
Will you do that for me, just once?
Or throw me away before the first dawn, as is my fate

My tormented soul
Wants the electrocutioner’s pulse
To leave me alone
And let my limbs recline
For just one night

But instead I must sleep awake
So I do not unleash
Another crushing wave
Against your brain
As my twitching arms attack you despite my love

For while a storm may intrigue you to watch
You will not ride long in the funnel of this tornado
I will become your toy
And discarded after a few shocks of my constant sparking
Have burned your precious fingertips into charcoal

My place will become as your sworn servant
When you require another grinding
And remember the reason your millstones have worn thin
Desiring another load
To render into stardust

And while I just wish to rest my weary head
Upon your swollen breasts of honey
While you sleep against me in pleasure’s afterglow
The storm that never sleeps will jar you awake
And your pointed finger will show me out the dog’s door

Creep that I am
Requires his mask to be kissed away, but it will not yield
No one can endure
A lasting embrace
Because I will bump your arms away in the night

You should be warned
As upon notice be you now informed
My tic ticking heart
Will demand its daily toll
Sending me to sleep alone


I Try To Fight

I try to fight them, those cruel clawing cold hands
 that drag me from the pit, clawing, twisting, crushing me.
 I must find you! I need to hold you, to be held by you!
 So I fight, desperately, to break free, to find you.
 I try to fight them, even as the feel of the ropes upon my arms
 burning  ever deeper,  into my skin
. I fight desperately, as the leather collar bites into my throat,
 and my breath leaves me. I try to fight, savagely, desperately, to break free.
 Knowing I can never escape, that I will fail,
 and knowing full well, what fate awaits us both.
 I know not where they have taken you, but I can still feel you,
 can still hear your voice, as it softly speaks of love.
, It is how I know you are still alive,
 and that knowledge gives me strength to fight on desperately.
 My body is ravaged, torn, the horrors those cruel hands have dealt, have broken my very soul,
 yet I try, desperately to fight. I long for release into the void,
yet I can still feel you, still hear your voice, still know your love.
 I know not, where they will take me, until the wagon comes to a stop. 
Then, for the first time in almost 16 days, your eyes are the first thing I see.
 You are alive, and when your eyes finally find mine, you look with such love, at me.
 So again, I fight! I fight so desperately, but those, horrible cruel hands,
 tighten their vicious grip, once more.
 I reach for you, needing your touch, sobbing your name.
 The pain, almost forgotten, gone, almost instantly. I struggle, oh, how I fight!
 And so, I didn’t see. I didn’t see the first of the blows, that spilled crimson onto the snow,
 at my feet. I screamed for you. I screamed your name desperately
 as I watched blow after blow rip your body to pieces, in front of me. Your blood turning the snow to slush, scarlet staining my feet. I watched your soul flee as I screamed for you,
 as the fight poured out of me. I watched, as they defiled you.
I watched as they ripped your body apart. I felt your soul leave mine.
 I watched, as the light of the sunrise left your eyes.
 My soul broken, my body savaged, I crumbled to ashes, there in the snow, at your side.
 The numbness that overtook me, did nothing to save me, that day. I can still taste your blood.
 Goddess above, I still taste your blood! No, More!
 No longer, will I bear this well of horror, and tears!
 Goddess, help me! I am drowning in it!

Damsel In Distress

Heartbroken lass bereft of eminent beau
papa doth vicariously experience her
(mine daughter's) grievous woe.

Unfair a budding promising relationship nought
going to incorporate wedded bliss,
when for all the world
the strong humble lad
absconded to Puerto Rican his homeland.

Thus pained University
of Pennsylvania alumna
("star student") since grade one
at Belmont Hills Elementary
whose high school alma mater
i.e. Harriton High School,
now glum Oakland California transplant.

I (biological father),
who helped beget offspring
writhes with agony,
cuz he and the missus
sowed wild oats
during prime time,
when irresistible call of the wild
overtook wisdom to shuck contraceptive
yielding the miracle of life.

Parenthood never ended
just because declaration of independence
and autonomy witnessed natural propensity
for progeny to reliant become on self
forced shoulder living expense
no only for herself,
but deux darling
tortoiseshell dappled

five month old kittens
most certainly a constant reminder,
when she and he "two peas in a pod"
shared so many college campus memories,
whereby appearances hinted
and predicted a shared destiny
between two love birds.

An abrupt cleavage
rent asunder never witnessing
mutual graceful dotage
figuratively saddled once ebullient psyche
unnecessarily bogged our engineering minded lady
with cumbersome equipage
after they spent precious
young adulthood years together

emulating how married couple live, I gauge
such scenario, cuz talk of wedding bells
filled the (telephonic) airwaves,
whereby yours truly feeling blessed
potential prodigal son in law
his earning hand over fist big bucks
employed at Silicon Valley company
geared toward marketing fitness application.

Unsure how said high achiever
bolstered with you go girl refrain,
(who ofttimes communicated with Zayda,
i.e. his demise a crushing sorrow),
which inevitable prolonged decline

sundered special rapport
since more'n threescore
Earth orbits around the sun
papa acquired mechanical engineer degree
working within Aerospace Division
at General Electric.

Impossible mission not to care
despite mein kampf punctuated
with mine wanderlust flair
marital covenant garden variety
wordsmith did greatly impair
triggering hostility within mine humble lair
adulterer letter forcibly donned as outerwear.

Message In a Bottle Contests of Free Verse Letter

MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE

                          My new friend,
                              Your eyes pleasure my words.
                               Hands fresh in a world unknown to me--
                               New in wonder and mysterious splendors
                               With delight I greet you.
                               Long flutters of time may have passed,
                               But in days gone by
                               I was a woman of steadfast heart.
                               A soul with passion for life and those I love.

                               I did not ‘go gently’ into the darkness.
                               In this spirit, 
                               May I offer you advice.
                               If you, 
                               in discouragement,
                               Shall sometimes wander--
                               Find delight in things small--
                                    The toothy smile of a child
                                    The memory of times lost
                                    The lingering kiss of a lover
                                    The embrace of a long absent friend
                               Remember us—
                                     our luxurious foolishness,
                                     our craving for technology,
                                     our crushing intellect without remorse—
                               Remember us
                               With kindness.

                               We loved
                               We laughed
                               We helped others when we could
                                     Or when convenient

                               Cherish your world
                                     As we did not cherish ours
                               Find possibilities in peace
                               Adore each atom
                               Celebrate each centimeter of your beloved’s body
                               And, in small quiet moments
                               Think of me
                               And my blessings
                               Afresh on you.

                    
                             Victoria Anderson-Throop
                             Dec 10, 2012

The Black

rain. so cold. like small whips at my face swung by a man in a yellow coat too old and dirty to show sunlight anymore. waves attack the boat like a pack of wolves, darting, biting, gnawing, retreating, repeating. in the waves i see my reflection, a ghost, already drowned in that big blue  leviathan. my body just floating in its depths, floating free and unchained. liberated from the deck beneath my feet, the comforting terrain of the beast we sail through these uncaring waters, the only thing to keep us from the depths below. the depths so deep no sunlight would go. depths so dark. so dark. 
there are mountains down there, mountains and monsters and little rocks with little fish to call them homes. big rocks with big fish to call them little rocks. bigger  fish to call the smaller big fish food, and monsters to call it all a playground, a training ground for the endless struggle of land and sea. the monsters will battle and kill and win and live to fight and kill to die and these wars between the krakens, the serpents, the behemoths and titans of the sea. they clash with such bloodlust and splendor that the blows carry to the surface and release tidal forces unseen. 


diving. deeper and deeper, blue, purple, midnight black. soul crushing void surrounding, so open, so empty, so oppressing, so tight. i am flying, i see stars, i am a satellite through this expanse, my radar picks up nothing. blip. something. something close. blip blip. things. close things.  curled in a ball i am an asteroid, hurling through this darkness, i want to escape. every direction is darker, there is no north, there is no up. there is no trail of soggy bread crumbs. there is no expanse. there is a chasm, the walls are close and cold. they cannot be seen, they cannot be felt. they just are. the longer i look out into that black the closer they get, and the smaller i make myself the smaller i must stay. if i stretch out a finger, an arm, a toe, i will collide with something, or something will collide with me. i will be sent off course, careening into the walls of this underwater canyon, forever bouncing from sharp stone to sharp stone, ever falling downwards. or upwards? there is no bottom. i do not know which way bottom is, there is no top. there is nowhere that i came from, there is nowhere that i go. i am just hurling through black, and the black is crushing.
Form: Prose

Mission22: From Me2u Pt2

There is a violent war that’s not in movies.
These soldiers we lost are not seen on TVs.
Friendly fire is the biggest killer of our men.
Per soldier lost at war, at home we lost over 10.

People know of PTSD and shell shock.
But the effects must be taken stock.
We civilians don’t know what they go through.
As their mission ended with nothing left to do.

The training and survival skills do not go away.
The paranoia and fear are in the brain to stay.
Losing purpose and absent structure remain.
Leads to wild thoughts some feel are insane.

To help this issue we learn to band together.
Soldiers and civilians become of one feather.
The group is created to address the mess.
Allowing soldiers a place free to confess.

By linking all our bodies, souls and mind,
We continue the motto No Man Left Behind.
Put your feet on the ground and breathe deep.
Go up and down, quieting thoughts to a peep.

Fully balance out your body from head to toe.
Watch the changes as you reap what you sow.
Feel your body tremble working through pain.
Doing rep after rep, finding a pace to sustain.

Logging the numbers to account for the grind.
Crushing the haters you’re leaving behind.
Both internal and out keep their mouth shut.
Knock out a set and they can kiss your butt.

Suicide may have previously won the battle.
But Americans are not Grim Reaper’s cattle.
We’ve banded together to win this fight.
Saving lives at home is what’s in sight.

Whether you do many thousands or just two.
The squats can straighten out a mind screw.
Forcing the blood through our bodies quick.
Turning soft legs into muscle hard and thick.

Forging our glutes into newfound rocks.
Quieting the mental voice that mocks.
Demons can pucker and kiss our rock butts.
Squat therapy can prevent deep wrist cuts.

Connecting with distant suicide fighters.
Illuminating the dark room with lighters.
Helping one other on our physical journey.
Carrying the fallen on a virtual gurney.

The strong reach out and will carry the weak.
Forging us forward on the challenge we seek.
Some days disappoint and others we surprise.
But the goal of what we do is to open the eyes.

The experience I’m discussing is Mission 22.
It’s been an honor to share the ride with you.
So although we will approach the 2,200 soon.
The best is yet to come for us, so stay in tune!
© Adam Segal  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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