Long Cursed Poems
Long Cursed Poems. Below are the most popular long Cursed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cursed poems by poem length and keyword.
Some call it a path
many say it's fate
few are non-believers
the unfortunate, find out theirs too late.
It's unseen to others
a roadmap designed exclusively for you
and if read correctly
the signs stay accurate and forever true.
Some unknowingly alter their map
leading them wrongfully astray
their future done in by some innocent choice
not meant to be chosen that particular day.
Those unfortunate souls follow a blueprint
with pages missing and torn
a journey that wasn't meant to be
is now, their crown of thorns.
This seven-letter word
has been hated, cursed and loved
even prayed for
to anyone who will listen from up above.
Now, as the night gets deeper, my thoughts more shallow
I shut my eyes foolishly confident that there will be a tomorrow
but one would have to argue and eventually agree
that if tomorrow never comes
I would have no choice, but to accept that as my...
DESTINY
Why did a cauldron of bedeviled bats fly right
into the grim windows splattering their blood
on the shards of glass strewn all over the floor…
What drove them to their gruesome death?
These nocturnal creatures that can navigate
a labyrinth of caves skillfully.
I leaned ruefully against the darkened wall
of this abandoned house, pondering;
Alas, if only these broken windows can
tell the tale of that foreboding night.
Ensnared, entangled, entrapped, entwined by life…
Venturing to escape is to embrace death!
Hugging the shadows of incarceration I wait
for the light of liberating death to shine upon me
and wrap me in its ethereal grace.
Cast out of Paradise, and a stranger in the mortal world,
I am cursed with an angelic beauty
like a rose blooming in the desert only to wither
in its scorching heat—unnoticed, unsung!
Like a fallen warrior seeking deliverance
like a wayward soul seeking salvation,
Unable to reconcile with either world.
I swear to tell you the truth
Nothing but the truth
But your heart is so feeble
And your spirit so brittle
A whiff of it will make you syncope
A little tyrant I am glad you are no pope
No Ceaser not the next hope
The people would die on knees
Just because you sneezed
Who carried the wind to make me sick
Its you or you or you it can’t be the breeze
A woman without accountability
A mother killing the son
Mumbi had nine daughters
The fable was prophesy
Its a image so broken
But a reality too open
You cursed me to remain your pup
And nothing more
You just robbed the world
So that you can see me rot
In a cold room
Dying of pneumonia and spiritual clots
You want to be right so bad
That I rather die
Than you see me smile
For a thought that is truly original
And If you are reading this
I really understand the criticism
Just wake up and leave
Grown ass man sitting and *****ing
But you need to freeze in my coffer
Watch your life thaw away and go
While you remain in situ like a statue
Maybe I go lick someones behind
Until they find it amusing and pay me in chains
But ass is not the spice for me
New chains are strange and grim
Then maybe I go dig and dig my grave
But I am tied to smile at visitors
Sit when told to sit
Broken broken broken
Broken until the truth would make me scream
“She seemed happy. I didn’t overthink the fact that she didn’t sleep well, wasn’t exactly open, and would always say yes to me; I thought it was anxiety from being in a relationship. I, too, experienced something similar; it was just a part of being a teenager for me. I was such an idiot. I wish I thought about her more.
There was a day when I had a biology presentation; my phone received a message from her, but I was too stressed and knew she’d understand if I didn’t check my phone. I eventually finished, deciding to check her message before going to sleep; I’m in the hospital, I love you, it said. I felt my perceptions shatter as I picked myself up and ran to the hospital. I didn’t know what room she was in, but demanded to see her. Her nurse explained to me that she had been assaulted by her mother. I felt a wave of relief knowing this injury wasn’t fatal as my heart suddenly shattered– the nurse told me she had leukemia. That her body was too weak to survive.
Those wrestling practices she told me about? They were a lie. A mere compensation for abuse. When she said she would always stay 17? She knew she would die. She just didn’t want to hurt me. I cursed myself as I broke open the hospital door. There she was; strapped to several IVS, pale but bruised, a breathing mask over her face. It wasn’t fair; with leukemia, she was already living with death. She was never meant to leave this way.
I felt so much hate towards myself, I didn’t think to blame her parents for years after her death. I felt as if I could have prevented it; but that wasn’t my job. It was her parents’ job to protect her, and they didn’t. Instead, they hurt her, and it was years of grief and emotional turmoil I experienced until the acceptance that— her parents were the villians. It wasn’t my job to help her survive, it was theirs, and such a failure compensated for their deaths. In fact, I’m glad they died.
Though through my sorrow, I shoved past the doctors and ran up to her. Her hand was in mine, though it was too late; I could see that her skin had lost color. My throat welled up as I felt our worlds cracking. Reality awakened me; there was a sandy texture in her hands. As I looked down, I saw a crumpled up piece of paper— it wrote:
I will always be with you.”
A voice whispered at 1 am.
As I sit alone at the worn gates of Yesterday
Looking through the Past's
White painted windows
Unafraid
Lost in deep thoughts as I watch once lost memories
Drive past like a new presidential JFK motorcade
Looking closely at the happy and sad games
We once played
You and me
Eventually
Holding hands tightly
Whilst the ungodly
Gossiping band
Loudly played
As our Titanic slowly sunk
I can still see
Reflected in your deliciously dark eyes
The night I surrendered
A magical night
I'll always remember
But as all things
In my cursed life
Everything changed as
The metaphorical iceberg struck
And our love slowly drowned as it
Shrunk
That seemingly endless night we once shared
Is it now torn beyond all repair
You were once all I ever needed
And will never forget
But as I still live in here
Wandering through the Alabaster Hall
Of The Great In-Between
I will always write your beloved name
Using beautiful syllables
In my eternal book of spells
Beside other failed dreams
Called
The Grimore of Light
Filled with Dark Regrets
Where you'll forever live
As I sometimes sit at the gates of yesterday
Once again
Wandering through green fields of yellow memories
Still clinging onto fragments of your sensuous silhouette
Somewhere
If you can hear me
I hope our old love
Still in your heart as in mine
Holds forever strong
With memories of me
As it too
Pirouettes
Before it too enters your
Grimore of Light
Filled with Dark Regrets
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
I love the word humankind because of the message it creates.
There is no prejudice in that word…it does not discriminate.
It affords every human being upon this planet Earth
the same meaning…the same value…the same importance…the same worth.
It means no matter how we try to separate ourselves….
what arbitrary labels we’ve assigned…
we will always be a member of the same…one…humankind.
When I see humans who by other humans are mocked, abused and cursed
I wish those people doing the mocking would realize we are all humans first.
I love that humankind is a compound word…
with two definitions to keep in mind…
one…reminding us we are all human…
the other…reminding us to be kind.
There is a distinction between the two words…
and that distinction is the key…
Human is who we are…kind is who we ought to be.
Which means the message in that compound word is a simple one…
there is always room for growth…
and when it comes to humankind…
we should strive hard to be both.
Smiles will carry you so far
But no worries, I’m only as happy as you are
Before I address these wounds
Let us discuss my future
And why I am blessed with doom
I’m over these tree tops
Yet I’m stuck beneath these clouds
Cursed for every time
You shout your beliefs aloud
Misery is peace
Therefore depression is here to see me
Smiles will carry you only so far
No worries, I’m only as happy as you are
28 days of February a love spell
28 days later, the end, seems above fell
Something about the scenes of a disaster
That puts a smile on my face
Your agony is only as lovely
As a child in my place
As if time should randomly select my enemies
Just past this line
Your phantom will detect a tender me
For my elite meets no defeat
Another face masked in glory
Another victim
Whose hunger won’t outlast his story
Smiles will carry you so far
But no worry’s, I’m only as happy as you are
Form:
--Who Has no Tomb to Rest His Soul--
After the long, long wandering in the wasteland,
sometimes by the sea where the roaring wind surges
the waters, or times in the highland where the dews chill the bone,
and other times by the marsh where pouring rain lashes the reeds,
Oedipus the blind and ruined old man, led by his dearest daughter,
came to the land of running horseman Colonus,
the land where Theseus reigns.
Woe is the blindness,
strange ground where Oedipus stepped on,
however, was the holy ground of immortal beings,
the ground forbidden to all who are the mortals.
Oedipus, therefore, an impious old man,
the blasphemous king once reigned Thebes,
the shameless one without the eyes to see.
Since the day driven out from Thebes
Oedipus needed a refuge where to lay his worn out body,
where to rest his wandering soul, and therefore, though
unknowingly, he hastily stepped on Holy Land.
Since he was expelled by his own sons and mother’s brother,
Oedipus needed the comforting word that soothes his aching body,
that relieves his troubled heart, and therefore, to hear
sweet music descending from above and echoes
in the grove as the gay spirited birds twitters,
he hurriedly sat on an altar forbidden to the mortals.
The oracle upon Oedipus since his conception
in mother’s womb was a cursed one, a foe to his own father,
the curse Oedipus, therefore, carried from the day of his birth was,
rather than a blessed one the proud heir to the ruler the king of Thebes,
but to become an abandoned child one forced to be a stranger everywhere.
And after the long wandering in an endless desolated land,
though death gave benediction in the night dark as his sight at last,
it did not allow him to have a tomb where his beloved daughters
would be able to dedicate a piece of stone with an epitaph,
the inscribed words of praise to honor him, or to recollect
his sorrowful image before his grave with tears in time to time,
though it may be a painful reminiscence to his daughters.
Alas! the king Oedipus, who has no tomb to rest his wandering soul
even after his death under an evil star.
Version 1
Broken souls and disillusioned dreams. Broken toys and angels without wings
Weep for the fallen brothers and infants without mothers
Pained tears encompass the empyreal rays. Pompous worlds painted in a destitute haze
Transmogrified in the iron flood. Transmogrified in the spilled blood
Frightened children flee from the impending devouring wails of the banshees
Captured children drown in the seas for the coming spring's garden poppies
Choked whispers, within frozen forgotten tale’s, the phantom spirits lurking behind the veils
The strong beguiled yearn for their thirst, obtaining the hero’s, plagued curse
A solitary cane and an abandoned house assembled upon soot
A dying hearth and a trembling shadow with crushed raspberries underfoot
Greet the honor, greet the madness, beat the dishonor, win the chalice
Defeat the grandest, apparatus, acquire all the treasure's honored status
Version 2
Broken souls and mutilated dreams
Broken toys and angels without wings
Weep for the vanished fallen brothers
And children without hope or mothers
Pained tears encompass the solar rays
A pained world in a destitute haze
Transmogrified, engulfed by the flood
Swept away and drowned in the spilled blood
Panic children flee from shadows
Spoils feed the seas of young willows
Choking whispers, frozen buried tale
The phantom spirits behind the veil
Strong beguiled only yearn for their thirst
Obtaining the hero's plague's cursed
Wooden cane and the house build on soot
Dying hearth and trembling bloody foot
Greet the honor, greet the madness
Beat the dishonor, win the chalice
Defeat the grandest, apparatus
Acquire the treasured honored status
Updated 5/14/2019
Form:
Through this character is learnt:
By loneliness and challenge
In the silence of the desert.
Only in solitude do trials impart
Permanent lessons, not in a village.
Through this character is learnt:
Necessity is taught by thirst.
Life is worthy at the canyon ridge
In the silence of the desert.
It's learnt by listening to a calm heart
Not by the horror of war's carnage.
Through this character is learnt:
Knowing Adam prevailed when cursed.
Humility became his wage
In the silence of the desert.
Your strengths matter here first.
Worldly views become abridged.
Through this, character is learnt
In the silence of the desert.