Long Devils Poems

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


Premium Member Der Tod Von Ein Dichter

not yet seen by others not yet devoured
all thy flesh not yet vain enough to lie
myself to sleep not quite through suffering
for i shall wait for the endless sleep

to quinch my thirst for death for my life
as an empty soul no river runs through 
where the devils has left behind wrappings
torn from my body my gift of love for

another ripped away at the roots 
to be placed in a jar to be preserved 
for the rest of thy living life 
no more weeping for a senseless pleasure

of breath for with every breath there's pain
so let me not ask you lord for light
for i only beg of you for death 
the senseless death of a poet


Questions?

Where was God when the streets turned red,
When prayers went up but came back dead?
Where was love when my parents split,
When home became silence — walls that spit?

Why does Britain preach about freedom’s flag,
While kids sleep cold under cardboard bags?
Why do suits toast wine in Parliament halls,
While the homeless bleed on cathedral walls?

Why is my skin a crime in their eyes?
Why do they fear me, feed me lies?
Why does the news paint devils in brown,
While angels in blue still gun us down?

Where’s the justice in broken homes,
In needles buried in cobblestone?
Where’s the peace in “keep calm and carry on,”
When every dawn feels like a loaded gun?

Why does the devil whisper in debt-choked ears,
And God stay silent through our fears?
Why do we fight for scraps and crumbs,
While billionaires feast on the poor man’s lungs?

Why does love feel like war, like fire, like chains?
Why does hate bloom faster than rain?
Why are we told to forgive, forget —
When the wounds still scream and the blood’s still wet?

And who will answer when the echoes fade,
When children inherit the mess we made?
Who will stand when the world won’t care —
Or are questions the cross we’ll always bear?

Corona Virus Welcome To the Uk

Its here the thing we all fear, 
The apocalypse is near,
The devils spurn has risen,
Trapping us in our homes like prisons,

To plague our planet already broken,
Is it retaliating, squeezing our lungs chocking,
Like the black death the plague upon our people,
Swooping, stealing the lives of the weak and feeble.

The most innocent are victims of the virus,
A sickening twist to this sickness sent to us,
From an unholy ghastly maker,
This is not the handy work of any saviour.

Is it a clense of the human race,
A government conspiracy for goodness sakes,
Bats are where it supposedly derives,
A rodent of the night skies,

Despite everyone's efforts its spreading like flies,
No loo roll paracetamol or thermoeter will scare it away,
It looks like it plans to stay,Just like an unwanted guest, Who's warn out its stay, so I'll guess I'll be the first to say
Welcome Corona virus to the UK.
© Sarah Cope  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Apple Isle Reminisce

Swathes of house strewn hills bathe in after storm sunlight brave
Shocks heavy clouds, knocks gloom away, spotlight locks
Bay's grey sparkle, renewed day brightens, strollers stay
Proud steel bridge carries loud traffic witnessing lifting cloud


Cornelian Bay, revealing lopsided boat sheds remember fish reeling
Domain central space retains natural bush, wildlife remains
Mount Wellington counts months of snow cap, close to town
City called Hobart, unassuming pretty place, subject of this ditty 


Sandy Bay, scenic, handy to City, it's here if anywhere to dress dandy
Battery Point deserves flattery,  colonial cottages, harbour view smattering 
Mona, incredible art loner, architectural wonder, prominent owner 
Views from too many places, water inescapable, fresh blue


Gazania's cheerful mania sprawl on steepest hills of Tasmania 
Devils ravage meat, dishevel opponents, fight decides levels
Top to tail drive pops frequent amazement, close sea stops 
Road journey slowed only by photo moments, memory furrowed
Isle induces many a smile, slow pace invites visitors stay a while. 


         25th July 2020
         Observe Contest
         Funam Makanam

         Three Rhymes per line
Form: Rhyme

Facing Reality

It's a hard pill to swallow knowing that something 
you worked and fought so hard for is just a lost cause 
and you can't put life on pause, all you can do is wonder
and think what a fool you are
now there's a handful of people who think they can change
who their significant other is or who they used to be 
love is blind and when you in love and want someone so bad
it's kind hard to see the light and everybody goes threw the b.s
but you try your best to make things right and you began to wonder 
he or she isn't even trying despite the fact how far y'all came 
they say their completely honest with but deep down you know their lying
and when you make time for them and they don't make time for you
tell me what do you do, what do you do when you think
every time you try to reach out to your mate the devils laughing in your face
and you finally realize all the time you spent trying to be the best man
she was never trying to be the best woman
you see you were looking for love but only found heartache in your left bosom
she was looking for a sex partner and thats whats real, but
behind this reflection in the mirror now after adding your relationship
up from it's ups and downs it get to be and seem so much clearer
she could never be the woman who you see yourself marrying
fact of the matter is she's just the woman with your child she's carrying
and the signs were there in the beginning that she was swimming in lust
and ashes to ashes dust to dust thats what the end of this relationship 
was made up of, a relationship that never should have started 
and now all you're left with is a broken heart thats dearly departed 
and a mind thats critically injured and all you can say is, its my fault
sometimes we have faith in something thats nothing
something thats not there, one living in despair and another 
just too in love to admit that despite of what her lifestyle has
always been like he's always forgive and forget, but in the end 
it was his heart that was gonna be a homicidal casualty, but 
thats just life I suppose and I'm just facing reality
© Corey Ross  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Bio


Premium Member Pinworms and Pentagrams

There are sacks of rotten rattlesnakes. 
In a pit made of acidic hearts and coal flakes.
Bloody stumps where there once were trees of reasoning.
Pinworms have crawled from asses and into their brains.
Three-piece zombies are gleaning peace from our dreams.

They've already forgotten the lessons of 10/7 and 9/11. 
The slaughter of our sons and daughters...of innocents.
They've forgotten the cattle cars and ovens of the holocaust. 
How easily warlocks and witches whipped devils into martyrs.

Scorpions stinging away at the Star of David.
Their dark hearts looking more like pentagrams...
Making lust with fallen angels and ravens.

Step right up, folks... pick a side.... pick a side.
We're in the Armageddon foothills and plutonium rides.
It's time to draw granite lines and carve up the red beasts.
Guzzle some heavy, heavenly water and have us an omega feast.

Premium Member Twins Die

TWINS DIE

‘HELP’ twins are on fire,
Proud buildings, tall, there,
To admire,
Firemen rush to the scene,
Risking their lives, their,
Everything their complete being,
People jumping from windows,
100 or more stories high,
Kept falling out of the sky,
Some from burnt out planes,
Others burnt inside the twin towers,
And became cinder,
Adding to the flames and tinder
Smoke, bodies, debris everywhere,
Tears, shouts half burnt 
People soon to become corpses!
It looked like hell
From all directions a yell,
A horror movie, a bad spell.
Soon silence, just concrete falling alight,
On the ground with a thunderous might!
Survivors screaming, looking for the lost,
Some found still burning, what a cost,
These innocent people had to pay,
To believers praising Allah prepared to die,
On this disastrous Day!
The devils carnage, to please remember,
This year as we celebrate 25th December,
What Happened on the 11th September,
2001, disastrous, horrific,
Our wish to their families is peace 
For their heartbreak will never cease!
And then to those who bore,
The brunt of the American wrath,
Innocent children amongst thousands killed,
Indiscriminately who were bombed,
Perhaps also fried and grilled,
By flames from buildings that spilled!
We are all children of God,
Why should anyone have to face,
Any human attack, a death squad!
United we all want the same,
We want peace to reign.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Garden Path

That damn weekly times (circa 1900), 
Afternoonified with Gigglemugs
sending me off my chump
Editors Half-rats, Not up to dick,
the meater.

Genderfied, I am
A woman of incredible script,
stylograph committed,
deemed a whooperup,
yet her prose is
umble-cum-stumble.

The longing expressed
through the lovers eye
poked-up the meater,
who Batty fanged my dyke
with his footle 

His "Enthuzimuzzy"
was unwarranted
and the mutton shunters were called
Collie shangles erupted
yet concede he did

overcome with blue devils
He purchased my script
published it last page
like a Skilamalink

I cared and did not
for published I was 
weekly times circa 1900
I bested the ragger





Rough translation - deceived
  
that damn weekly times editors
all snobbery and fake smiles
sent me crazy
The editors drunk, and unwell
he's a coward

I am a woman
a writer, a poet
committed to my craft
deemed inferior
yet my writings are 
thoroughly understood

The topic in question
a female lovers romance
embarrassed the coward
who thoroughly thrashed my lover
with his nonsense

Ohh the insulting "enthusiasm"
was not necessary
the police I did call
heated arguments won the battle
and he apologised - albeit begrudgingly

His saddened state, 
as he was forced 
to take my manuscript
and publish it in the back
like some dirty secret.

Last page was bothersome
yet published I was
in the weekly times no doubt, 
as I defeated that trouble making editor
fun

Stepping Stones

The devil
is a 
dancer
In the 
cabaret 
of fire

His steps
are most
alluring
His eyes
beget 
desire

He twirls
amongst
the partners
Disguised
but known 
to all

And making
his 
selection
A child
of Adam
— falls

**

Never let
reality
— obfuscate truth

Never let
the legend
— be tarnished by proof

Never let
the facts
— carry the day

Never let
the magic
— get reasoned away

**


Staying close
to the moment
the world made sense

In touch
with his feelings ...
tomorrow’s paid rent

Alone
with his questions
the answers collide

Breaking through
the unconscious
— forever alive

**

You can never tell
unless you show it first
What the eyes will see
— the mind will free

**

Colors drip down
but never up
Gravity’s palette 
— rainbows to touch

**


Looking for a 
socket
to plug in tomorrow

Looking for a 
conduit
to exit today

Looking in a
mirror
reflecting my future

Looking until
breathing
— each word that I say

**
Hidden
in caverns
the words 
rising forth

Each droplet
a treasure
in ladles 
to pour

Through whirlwinds
of drought
and twisters
ordained

The wellspring
indulgent
to fill
— and sustain

**



There are no
accidents
though some
would explain

Cause
or causation
each hair splitting
phrase

What is
and what isn’t
their images
born

Unconsciously
conscious
in matter
— and form

**


The art of looking
grows slowly ...
Tall oaks in
the wind

The bison in
Winter ...
His warmth
from within

The art of seeing
takes longer ...
with each passing
glance

Reforming
the picture ...
you once left
askant 

**

In the distance
pirates chase
like devils
on the wind

Tonight’s horizon
morning brings
 what destiny 
— portends

**

Metaphor
only thrives and grows
forever
on the vine

Simile
lies a 
rotting fruit
— bereft among the rinds

**
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Devils Plague

It will not buy you time,
Cannot save you, 
It does not distinguish,
Will befriend criminals,
Benefactors too.
It is not the solution
It is the problem.
It will not buy you love
But is the most sought after,
It changes personalities.
People will kill to acquire it.
It’s a plastic status symbol.
Can destroy relationships.
Profess to be the answer.
Governments are under its rule.
You cannot be cured without it.
It’s embedded in society.
Businesses are its slave.
It takes on different forms.
Children crave it.
People sell their soul for it!!
IT IS THE DEVIL'S PLAGUE
For it is money!

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