Long Demon Poems
Long Demon Poems. Below are the most popular long Demon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Demon poems by poem length and keyword.
Stay or you will die
Stay or I will die
Can you not see we give each other life?
Winter is near
The demons will need warmth
The squirrels say they spawn from hell
Perhaps that's why they cannot survive without our heat.
I digress,
If more of you leave, I'll be sure to standout
Have I ever mistreated you and your brethren
Do I disgust you so much that you'd choose death over my company?
Stay till summer, then you can leave
Quiet down,
I hear the demon's cackle
Stay or he'll take my life
He's got an axe, mayhaps he won't notice that I'm dry
Do not approach me you demon
Produce your own heat
Cut me down now but I shall live on
Who needs leaves?
My children have developed roots
I shall live on!
„hurry up! bring the holy water
or I’ll scratch myself out of existence“
sincerely
your gentle strangler...
...that’s the end of this ecstatic story
about the seasick captain
about the Laplace’s demon
caught in a bigot whirlpool
THE END in black capital letters
a true descent into vanity
but there are still bills to pay
and pills to take
while you still don’t want to get old
vanishing with the rising vapors
of dotted tea-pot each day
mourning over the Laika’s last journey
in a dampness of the cold bakery
and the weakness is getting stronger
by the creaky roadside hut
where the fearful sand witch dwells
cursing the dolphins and their mothers
with her osseous lexicon
and sapphire ravines in her eyes
but hey, we’re still sinking
still orbiting the godhead
and that’s all
Painting pictures with imagery
Watching as white turns into a splash of colors
Wash away the gray in the sky
And the bleak feelings in my chest
My mind is a broken canvas
And though I do my best to paint
The colors eventually fade
Leaving me in a shivering fit
The best moments in my life
Play out in my dreams every night
Always from a decade ago
Never anything new
Tears chase paint
Rolling down the canvas
Leaving black trails
Forever scarring my mind
No grand delusions
My grandeur faded in ages past
If I could say it all
I'd tell you to walk away
Chase not the demon in the bottle
Every day little pieces of who I used to be
Disappear, disappear, disappear
And what's left behind is just an empty shell
I hold this canvas up
It's a portal to my very soul
I'm sorry it's not prettier
I'm sorry it's so dark and twisted
Every sin and every flaw
Every dream and every ambition
Look at this silly thing
It's changing
Empty white explodes with color
The lifeblood of my muse
Gives my thoughts meaning
Showing it was always there
Painting pictures with imagery
Watching as white turns into a splash of colors
Wash away the black in my heart
And the dead feelings in my chest
10 days later i could be dead
cracked bones with bugs in my head
laying with my hands on my heart
forever resting till death i part
9 days later i will be alive
feeling numb but completely in life
all my shattered dreams in a can
stitch them together and hope it will mend
8 days later i could be lost
gave all my hopes for a bitter cost
battle in the arena, a match to a demon
set fire to a land that was my kingdom
7 days later i would be a beam
something in the night that's felt but never seen
disappearing to and from a single cell
coming back to and leaving from hell
6 days later i drew a picture
a portrait of tears poured by a pitcher
from a sea that never moves its tides
from a tide that was never moved from the light
5 days later i will riot
against the society that made me a pirate
a lone in a sea, and i quest for jewels
a lone in a sea, a reputation to be cruel
4 days later i feel at bliss
every now and then i reminiscence
feel at peace knowing it will end soon
so in my life in the dark, i appreciate the moon
3 days later i destroy my fearless hopes
i stand unaware in the incoming smoke
the gas and liquids make all my senses
i separated the solids to up my defenses
2 days later i count my creations
80 lines and all my vibrations
i add up the sum that leaves me to know
that i contorted myself to conjure a foe
1 day later i sit in silence all day
look off in the distance and see the people play
nothing inside me but repetition
outside the box was the endless
so today until i print all my being
try to put into words how i am feeling
10 days later i could be alive
but i know 10 days later that could all be a lie
10 days later something can change
and 10 days later it could remain the same
but life and death are set in stone
and one day
10 days
will be all you own
Born chosen,
in other spheres,
soon landed
where nobody wanted ...
Little sugary I grew up,
little salty I survived
to be kind of impish ...
I'm a fugitive son
from the sea ... being healthy ...
Stout escapist
commitments,
absent goer
of cultural events
intriguing inhabitant
of society ... but
even so intending to me
being a poet, I got here ...
Neither high nor low
meantime...
Neither ugly nor handsome
however ... I don't pay attention to fashion,
but I am inside everything ...
Gone in the years,
without having realized ... yet
I am faithful wanderer with
tired feet and body
sense...
I never wanted luck,
be preferred but with
luck I was always registered ...
I mix healthy and evil
accurately ... I'm almost
pure innocence ... further angel
than a demon by essence ...
But imperfect man
I am still ... I'm sure ...!
Always loved old nursery rhymes
They have always been so kind
We fight for what is right
We trust in his light
We intrust in him
There are no more sins
Demons be gone
For we have won
God will forgive
All who live
For the world to believe it is caring
We return to sharing
We work together
To make it better
A friend in me
You shall see
Lend a hand as much as you can
Forgive and forget
Do not live in regret
Hold your friends dear
For it holds such precious years
Dry your tears
Do not live in fear
For the heart you seek is near
God is always here
There is no need for fear
I wish the world would feel
We would all start to heal
No demon can take any soul
For it will always remain whole
No time to deny
Look further inside
Trust what you have got
You are worth a lot
Advance without fear
For our victory is near
Have faith
For it is never too late
jump through giant decorative chain once worn round deduce ankle of a giant Doing that is to be a sign of hamster irk mumbling what follows absurd postures no one laughs
milk an obsolete/old-fashioned cow pour milk into bucket made from letters onto untitled frequent reports of work of secret society even though the cow specifically ordered me POST IT TO THE YEAR THE LORD WAS BORN! kicked away kicks don’t hurt a bit
pass security guards so mad they turn brown write share critical explanatory notes about my demon-like hairs on my nape don’t even notice me sneaking away or notice I’ve taken without their permission their chocolate bars I lose all
hiding in the busy video arcade take hold by conquest one square section of the arcade territory half an hour hire a down & out game player to add wood to big ring-shaped pergola fired angrily the arrogant argumentative cleaner I hired to build pergola with buckets stored away in secret closet not for the reason I’m afraid it’ll be taken over by a challenger some of the gamers were coughing lethal infectious disease of sheep & cattle very disappointing end to the activity
hallway fire escape the judge of everything in a mahogany robe skimming with a patch of a in high spirits jack-o'-lantern grasping a long celery stick smacking the stomach of a tall hairy oaf because he sheds too much hair oaf like the Abdominal Snowman who wants to be an aeroplane pilot he’s got the strength of a wafer biscuit but all he got was a dimple problem
ride a log made from protein made in blood kills bacteria to a long carpeted seat jump off onto it about to spray to log open hostility bubbling for a permanent sum to be paid at specified intervals over a time it shoots away left embarrassed stupid ugly feeling declare formally with no contract my & the log’s time together to be invalid!
the hula-hoop for mice earrings hard gossiper on a treadmill by the drinking tap she thinks she owns the right to frown hard at the coy waiting in line a slurp for one dollar the lanky smooth surfboard knows the cure the big secret to help her tight fitting costume spurs her to want to help the coy that make her angry even in the shower not be coy anymore no more stab stab stab she’s waiting for the $$ so she can bottle it for properly for mass consumption
We accept tornadoes here,
expect them, tick them off
as they pass by like demon dreidels.
Usually they are not a big deal
unless they are.
Spring culls its little lambs
in all sorts of ways.
The murder rate in Chicago
climbs ever higher
until the city prays for more snow.
Folks in their privileged trailer parks
get rolled like dice.
A pressing need for body bags
creates work for some.
The addicted and dying oblige
as best they can.
It’s all a small town hush
unless a celebrity overdoses
then distraught, the news is spread
from parlor to parlor.
Shooting-up on the streets
is a recreational choice for those
who camp-out in Cleveland and Dayton.
Meanwhile birds keep singing,
Spring flowers struggle to bloom
squeezed as they are
between such climatic collisions.
We hear the roar and rumble
of funnels turning upon themselves
as they twist the nights away.
The Age of Man
We carried on
The age of man
Till moon of tin bore
An electric sun
And all machines
Shone bright and clean
Keeping silent
But wanting more
Till the purpose mind
Did loose its time
In idle waves lament
Through prostitution of evolutions
A self induced torrent
Took his mind till eyes fell blind
Unraveled the very core
To spit it bright into the night
Every secret that endured
Till all the stars fell off in drought
Withered at the root
Every galaxy was brought to knee
By the embassy we took
And God came down
To spy our crown
In towers that we command
As every tree
Laid low to be
A place that we should stand
While all the earth
Gave up its worth
Mountains fell to sand
But those machines
All we could see
God left us standing there
So gathering the ways
Of all his days
His books and all his score
Scattered it high into the sky
Into the cloud he stored
Every thought
That effort bought
By page, pen and grave
And set to fire
By all his ire
Knowledge eons gave
While dirt of earth gave up its worth
Lay idle, a broken land
Gave lifeless life unto the night
And Metal, a full command
Till from the hearth soulless marched
The field of Mars and woe
To stand in line as engines grind
In that womb steel did grow
From something other
Than a loving mother
A milk of gasoline
In burning oil and writhing toil
A demon she did wean
So the thought machine
Did kiss our dream
As man must lay to rest
But that unblinking eye
Our thoughts did spy
And developed its own interests
And not one of we
Did need to be
Said that steel abhorrent pet
And once the master, fell fast, then faster
Until not one of we were left
An an age for I
The lidless eye
Not troubled by truth or dare
Stays unseen
By human being
And continues its lifeless stair
Till rain came down from man made cloud
In that fog the Godless kept
All the ways until that day
And away it all was swept
Poetry is your first walk in freezing cold snow
a carnival of whirlwind words that often spin you around
Poetry can be sorrow on the end of a cold tree branch
drama, excitement, joy, disbelief, and humor
Poetry may be a person’s soul splayed out on a page
a weird conflict of ideas, that somehow makes sense
Poetry is confusion, consternation, a confection of candor
in anonymity, she unites us with our self as writers and readers
Poetry is a raven forevermore, Coleridge’s wailing of a demon lover
a boat of enthusiasm, thoughts we have never shared, shown on a page
Poetry is the quintessential enthusiastic medium
she lands without apology, not expecting but accepting agreement.