Long Dagger Poems
Long Dagger Poems. Below are the most popular long Dagger by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dagger poems by poem length and keyword.
Her name was Madame Butterfly;
true love embraced her one fine day.
By sea, he came, neath bright, blue sky,
on Navy ship from far away.
Love, at first sight, it was for them,
this naval officer and his
sweet Geisha from Japan, a gem;
together found a lover's bliss.
His tour was done, and now goodbye
would break her heart, but he'd return...
he said...then left his Butterfly.
She watched him leave, with sad concern.
His son was born, and three years passed;
each day she looked out to the shore.
No sign of him, and she soon asked...
is he now gone, forevermore?
But, then one day, her love arrived!
The ship was there moored in the bay.
He had returned, with joy she cried,
oh, happy day...she knelt to pray.
At once, she saw a woman there...
and holding hands with her dear man,
the father of her son...unfair...
he, with a wife, came to Japan.
Her heart now broken; how life turned...
her true love found then lost, and yet
returned to her...but she has learned
he's lost forever...such regret.
Her honor lost, her life is done.
She hugs her son and says goodbye.
Behind the screen, neath morning sun...
with dagger high...poor Butterfly.
August 7, 2016
~5th Place~
Contest: A Love Lost, Then Found Only To Lose Again
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri-Carroll
Judged: 08/26/2016
~3rd Place~
Premiere Contest: Impaled
Sponsor: Anthony Slausin
Judged: 08/08/2019
Story from "Madame Butterfly" - an opera composed by Giacomo Puccini
Vesti la Giubba
What might it mean, to say that I’m a man?
This dignity, this thing I think I feel,
is it ephemeral, or is it something real?
I sense I’ve suffered since the world began.
Her show of fondness was no deeper than
this gaudy paste of grease and cochineal.
I’m sick of acting, sick of this ordeal.
Is there no better universal plan?
Teeth and talons serve to gash and tear.
To merely live, all life must stalk, ensnare
and slaughter others, lower in the chain.
I gave the best in me, and met disdain.
Condemned to look for love, we find despair,
and this I know – but why must there be pain?
A Drunk-Shunning Funk
That you revolt me, should be clear by now.
A settling of accounts is overdue.
You’ve proved that alcohol can loosen glue.
I’ve shown my disenchantment, you’ll allow,
and fired so many shots across your bow,
that I’m impossible to misconstrue.
I see you now as something I outgrew.
My furrow’s found a bright new shiny plough.
I’ll always hate the odour of stale beer,
a stink which is preponderantly yours.
It seems to issue from your very pores.
You’ve often sneered at warnings. “Insincere”,
you’ve called my threats to leave – but never fear:
You’re going to learn how women settle scores.
Shafting the Wanton
One tendency that’s underestimated
is men’s recourse to violence when thwarted.
Their sense of mastery is oft inflated,
false feelings of entitlement distorted.
The **** and the dagger are related,
two things to which we’ve endlessly resorted.
If women’s fate is being penetrated,
“eviscerated” means the same as “courted”?
This thing called honour – what exactly is it?
And how’s it salved by wiping out her life?
When lack of satisfaction comes to visit,
are men then meant to meet it with the knife?
The steel’s the hard one (irony exquisite!)
but which one gets inserted in the wife?
Everyone flying high above the clouds
A gasp and I fell on the ground
my blue ink is now red, glittering with tears
their blue ink fought the great war, the real winners
pain for evermore caused by the dagger
a dream so grand, an epic defeat
a search party sent into the woods
I pray now & then to rise
a latibule to reverse the augury
ended up in a chimera
someone set fire to the woods
suffering from asphyxiation
learnt about the twinkling lights in the sky
learnt about the script that was never mine
I dreamed to be so high, stargazer is just a word now
my dream shattered, I cried
an excruciating pain
Heart breaking ice
I have been bitten
In the deepest
chambers
Cold black
frosted ice
Cracks begin
Showing
Watch where
you are skating
Oh but I
am not depressed
In fact
the very opposite
Raging mad
Like a red rag
to a bull
A bird dirtied
on the nest
Blowing
the main fuse
Like a flash
of lightning
Heartless burning
Deep inside
Beyond
my wildest belief
To have the nerve
Cold as steel
I shake your hand
Tainted
my little paradise
Drawing the past
latest conquest
A place dear to me
Were I grew up
Laughter and happiness
echoes
In the mind beautiful
I have no words
to say
Cutting
in blue cold steel
On the blades edge
On thin ice
Breaking up
I say forward
Driving it in
The dagger opening
a deep wound
In the heart
In the deep night, when stars fall like tears on the fields of dreams,
My thoughts drift aimlessly, lost in the whirlpool of consciousness,
Somewhere between reality and fantasy, my wounded heart beats.
I knew you, and in knowing you, I felt the pain from the depths.
I thought I had grown and could love you the way you wanted to be loved.
I threw caution to the wind, surrendered without force,
Your manipulations, mere silent storms, shattered my resistance.
I can't help myself, I can't recover, I feel a prisoner of my own being,
But I'm grateful that your wisdom decided enough is enough,
And that some things must be surrendered or left behind.
I know I can't find my tears, but the pain is beyond a century of sufferings,
A thousand years of silence and bitterness hidden in the corners of my heart.
It’s an invisible burden that presses unceasingly, an echo of pain blown by the cold wind,
When your gaze crossed me like a dagger, and the promised love dissolved into shadows.
I remember the nights when I collapsed in thoughts, when every word of yours was a falling star,
But instead of wishes, it brought only ashes to my soul emptied of hope.
You were a flame that burned too close to the skin, leaving scars visible only in dim light,
And now, I learn that love is not always a promise of happiness, but sometimes a lesson of pain.
In these long verses, I wander among memories and regrets,
Trying to find my way back to myself,
A way to forgive myself for loving, for feeling,
And for, in the end, surviving.
The pain of knowing you was my lesson, a melancholic ballad written with blood and unshed tears,
And in this stream of consciousness, I release myself,
Prepared to rise from the ashes of lost love,
Stronger, wiser, and ready to love again, but not today.
Is there an eternal metaphor for love?
Is forever a sinful oath abandoned in
an archive of poems with alienated alliteration.
Hidden behind simile and ironic verses?
Why does human interference place
an unwanted label on romance and dignity,
like a social butterfly and the tramp.
These oxymorons become lost in translation,
to simple minds with misinformed ideologies.
Emotions are felt through a balance that
define the impact of words and actions.
Principles of legitimacy have no eyes.
Lust is an internal bonfire,
a fragile candle dripping in wax,
burning the beginning of an end,
a cursed chalice emanating feelings long dead.
Carnal desire is a luscious psycho,
trying to balance splitting paranoia.
Trust is a double edged dagger,
when an asylum of triggers are resurfaced
through crimson, clementine and chalk flashbacks.
We all suffer from immemorial ghosts.
Life gives no refund for regret,
It knows our destiny is death.
Loss leads to a motionless existence,
where bloodstained ivory feathers of the fallen
float in the air from wounded warriors,
whose hearts have crumbled from betrayal.
We never forget the sound of heartbreak.
There is only one immortal emotion.
Love is a silent saviour,
reality in a world of virtual insanity.
Where petals and pearls paint hues of pastel peaches,
creating a psychedelic poetic heaven.
An enchanted melody with waves of serenity,
reflecting ivory shades from
the last phase of the blood moon.
Because some things last beyond time.
~~~
Silence surrounds me and sounds awaken me,
Incense burning, drifting, and candles softly flickering;
The flute of the Spirit Dreamer in the background,
And in my palm, I hold three magic rocks, rolling them over and over.
And I am floating, up and up and away,
I wear a lavender, gauzy gown so filigree and delicate;
My raven hair tangled and billowing about my body,
A blue meandering river flows below me slowly representing my journey.
Images of my past existences lay beyond the surface,
Floating back and back and back into the past, into oblivion;
Like a fallen leaf, spinning, twirling and swirling in the wind,
Backwards through the tattered, yellowed and decaying pages of a time past.
In a forest lush and green with thick rambling foliage,
Bird calls fill the misty dawn light where the falling dew drips;
And on my arm held up, ornate bracelets sparkle in the sun,
And in my hand a dagger is poised, waiting breathlessly, anticipating the kill.
An ancient ship rolls on the blue undulating ocean waves,
Dappled light fills a small cabin within the dipping and rolling ship;
There a man holds me with love and places his lips upon mine,
As our ship crashes on jagged rocks of a distant shore and sinks into the abyss.
A horse, white as a cloud sleek and strong, gallops swiftly,
In the thick black of inky night with the moon and the stars shining;
The thunder of many horse hoofs beating behind, in pursuit,
And we turn, my horse and I, sword held high and attack the enemy with pride.
And in my palm I hold three magic rocks . . . .
______________________________
August 1, 2013
Poetry/Verse/I Hold Three Magic Rocks
Copyright Protected, ID 08-496-354-01
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, Any Old Poem #5,
sponsor, Skat, Judged 2013
Fifth Place
I'm fraughting with fear
Fear of rise in temperature
Fear of sinking blood pressure
Fear of developing a lump
Fear of a funny happy jump
Fear of cough and cold
Fear of every pain untold
Fear of burns in throat
Fear of blood and bloat
Fear of lump in the chest
Fear of throb in the heart
Fear of pain in the tummy
Fear of puking after eating yummy.
Fear of needles
Fear of plasters
Fear of pills
Fear of fluids
Fear of oxygen pipe
Fear of nebulization mask
Fear of blood reports
Fear of monitor bleeps
Fear of critical unit walls
Fear of emergency calls
Fear of dying without living
Fear of nothing that siezed my everything
Where has this fear come from?
When in my brave soul has it taken form?
I win the palm battling with it
Still, it comes back without any guilt
The reason for its popping up I pretty well know
It does take shape whenever my health goes low.
I haven't knowingly blightened my body, I swear
But an unexpected illness always like a crown I wear.
Rushing to the doctor many a time
Germinated in me this fear for a lifetime
Now it's time I take the sword
And hit on its back oh! so hard
Come what may, I'll not succumb to it
A candle of courage in me I have lit.
It's time to take the nerve and cut its throat
To wield a dagger as its antidote
How long on my head will it sit?
No, no not anymore will I be guided by it.
The day has come for me to commit the ultimate act
With the voices in my head that I had formed a pact
I woke up early, had a hot shower in the dark
So my body would fell the cold as I lay in the park
I dress in my best suit perfect from head to toe
I take a bus to the spot that only My God and I know
I find the leaves and place them on the cold frosted ground
I look around to make sure no one is around
The leaves are perfect, I lie down
The ground is cold, I frown
Phew! Thought I forgot my letter, I place it on my chest
I’m almost at the end and at the beginning of my new quest
I’m looking at the willow tree
It looks rather sinister and twisted to me
Like a claw hand melted by the moon
How beautiful it looks, but this reality will be over soon
I feel this strange warmth running down to my ears
I haven’t cried for a long time, I welcome these tears
The voices, they not here, they have taken a vow of silence
Waiting to see me commit my act of violence
Clarity at last… all I can hear is my Juliet’s sweet voice
My Juliet…my mind’s best choice
I got the dagger, and put the tip a little under the solar plexus by my heart
It’s beating fast now, no time to fall apart
A noise, sh-t a man, who could this be
His casually walking toward me
I don’t need this, I’m ready to go
“Sorry to disturb you, hello”
“What do you want?”
“My name is Le’fant”
Please to meet you L’e what ever, go away”
“By all means do come back another day”
“Sorry may I join you”
“I’m here for the same reason too”
His lying next to me
Piss off and let me be
His also dressed up smart
Maybe he wants to take part.
Well at least he can do it in case I chicken out
I know he won’t mess about
“Sorry again could you read my note?”
“To make sure it’s perfect what I wrote?”
I got his note this is what it said
It’s making me feel dizzy in my head
Roman priests practiced divination
as a means of prophesying the future
they'd plunge a dagger into a temple dove
and eviscerate the living bird.
Then they'd examine the entrails,
especially their livers, for omens,
believing that the Gods would reveal what was
going to occur in the immediate future through such signs.
These readings would both bewilder and fascinate the curious
onlookers, when the augurs would raise their scarlet hands
and announce their awaited predictions.
The remaining doves would get released in a whirling mass
forming a vortex of flapping wings and feathers,
their direction of flight
also an indicator of divine communication.
Nobles would often bribe augurs for favorable predictions
to inspire their soldiers before battle.
These divinations were taken very seriously in ancient times.
It's said that Julius Caesar's death was prophesied by augurs,
and Caesar's adversary, Senator Cato, committed suicide
after he received an unfavorable reading.
(Free Verse)
6/16/2018