Long Eerie Poems

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


Longing For Yesterday Today Everyday

a firefly kisses me unexpectedly
perhaps it is a symbol of hope
i then smell the familiar scent of her
it feels like yesterday returning to today

sitting on the now worn deck
caring about nothing, again i dwell on the past
everywhere i turn i see the creations of beauty you conjured up
it feels like yesterday returning to today

the cat now sits on the edge in a misunderstood anticipation
perhaps it is a sign of things to soon come
i then feel the unforgotten sense of a presence long since gone
it feels like yesterday returning to today

if there was a way i could wake this present time up,
then i would
if there was a way i could magically change the way things went down,
then i would
if there was a way i could make all the tears cried into a wishing well,
then i would
maybe then i could make this miracle in my head happen
instead i am mister at the tale end of the color purple
though on certain days i find a smile, today's quiet is as eerie as the realization of why
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Eerie Foreboding about this House

Scintilla experienced an eerie foreboding
the house at 125 Klondike Street felt unsafe
she sensed that it had brought doom to occupants
she was shaking her head no when her husband said “we’ll take it.”

She took him aside and explained her feelings, but he would not budge.
Something about it called to him as fiercely as she was repulsed by it.
Within five years they had experienced a fire, a flood, and a divorce.
Scintilla gave her husband the house and the equity.

All she wanted was to survive, to get out with her life.
Her odd immediate premonition came to fruition.
Her husband passed away from Covid-19 two months later.
Their children paid attention to her forebodings after this.

The Morning When the World Changed As I Knew It

i make myself a mexican pizza
i make myself a mexican omelette
i make myself some frijoles charros con queso
i make myself some taquitos extra stuffed
i get two bottled waters ice cold out of the fridge
i cut on the tv to channel fuzz circa 1980
i stare into space wondering why i made all of this food in the dark
i get the call that i knew was coming from my sister
Mom just took her last breath this morning, 3:32am
i throw on some clothes
i throw on some shoes
i throw on a jacket, thermal lined
i grab a hat and put it on
i head out of my apartment door and to my car
i wonder if i really should be driving
i drive the direction of my Raising Place
i feel like i am heading for the equator while staring into space
i get to the Main Root
i drive in a makeshift circle
i get to the Main Root
i drive in a makeshift circle
i get to the Main Root
i drive in a makeshift circle
i get to the Main Root
i drive in a makeshift circle
i get to the Main Root
i drive in a makeshift circle
i finally turn into the dreaded driveway
i walk into the eerie spotlight with all eyes on me, but all is quiet
i hear and i see nothing
i head to my sister's old room where Mom's deathbed was placed
she is so thin and so weak
her mouth is open like she fought for breath until the very end
i tell Mom I Love Her one last time
a rain of quiet fall into my sister's old room
i sit there with my sister in the Company of Mom one....last....time
and....then....they....cover....Her....up....and....take....Her....away.....
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Peace from my Saviour midst Alarms

Alarmed with daily hustle-bustle sounds...
How can my counselor’s heart 
and social worker’s mind 
escape being affected? 

Disturbing and confusing
are eerie grumblings 
verily discernible to the ears
aftermath a lover’s quarrel…

Oppressively afflicting
are loathsome murmurings
absolutely hurting 
manifested by rebellious sobs of the young…

Never to be ignored
are the agitated and restless
enthusiastic mirth screams from special children
persevering to behave but cannot control themselves…
  
With such exposure…
I ceaselessly yearn for soothing relief
reverberating tranquility of hope and faith
blissfully ecstatic, yet serenely pleasurable…

Meanwhile, vanquishing skepticism mockery that echoes doubts
I seek communion with the Sovereign
Who listens to me
understanding my heart… just as I am.

In the presence of my Saviour, Jesus Christ*
I’m secured with joy’s certainty
Definitely my haven of rest
Though temporal in my earthly abode.

*Romans 5:1 Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.

September 1, 2019
2nd place; "Silence (Without Using Synonyms of Silence in the Poem Text)" Poetry Contest; sponsored by Silent One; judged on 9/5/2019.

Premium Member Sacrificial Lamb

Streaks of pallid moonlight  
wash over blood-stained  
burnt umber leaf blight.  
Glistening stainless steel remains  
within wilting noir roses  
and blistered blades of grass.  
Sickening hands shake my repose,  
heart racing, sure to collapse,  
feeling faint.  
A revolting nausea elevates,  
trying to find restraint,  
as madness deregulates.  
A heart separated  
from a lifeless corpse—  
death awaits.  
Flashbacks play like static reports,  
too hard to get a clear picture.  
Splashes of splattered red fill  
spaces in between scriptures.  
Screaming echoes spill,  
dirty visions getting clearer,  
as the sacrificial lamb  
becomes the predator, evaporating fear.  
Fighting for the blade, fingers clammy,  
spinning out of control.  
How could you bring me to this?  
Steel cuts against palms, foretold—  
splatters of crimson spray, don't resist,  
covering fear-filled eyes.  
One last-ditch effort:  
grab the hilt and arise.  
On this deadening night, collect.  
You became Samhain’s sacrifice,  
a feast for the demonic nether, sanctified.
© Sara Jama  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Phoenix

Awoke by a nightmare, in cold sweat
dews were to settle on foliage yet
sun was below the horizon still
birds were calm in their nests in chill
rooster had not sounded alarm yet
the darkness a foe waiting in stealth. 

Now an eerie silence flaying my mind
dredging the past, mind remorse clad
minced by remorseful reminiscence
Oh ! can I erase the past in silence.

Or if I could retreat to the womb again
And my slough, if stealthily hidden
And frame only my infancy and smile
Cropping edges of my worn out shell.
and cast the past in the consuming fire.
To rise like a phoenix in time and pure
And start all over the lost days in peace.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Ghost Gum: Three Forms

Septet II


Wind strips bark.
Rust stains the white skin.
Ghost gum breathes and a branch breaks
What broke has made room for coloured wings.
New leaves stir above the scar.
The trunk keeps breathing.
Green wings rise.


 Septanelle


Bark strips leave white.
Winds rush past, branches bare.
White trunk reflects the fading evening light.
Birdsong fills air.
Rainbows come from out west.
Lorikeets find hollows to make a nest.
Green wings take flight.


Saraband


Aging branch crashes to the ground.
Eerie silence follows the sound.
A gaping hole can now be found.

Hollow in the tree can be seen.
Lorikeets arrive as a pair.
Hollow cradles a nest unseen.
Birdsong now echoes through the air.
Form: Other

The Moon Carries a Rope

A strange, eerie, black feeling of despair,
I am lost, alone, no one seems to care
except the Moon who appears and prepares.

He throws me a long rope, yelling, "Catch hold!"
Noticing my doubt, "Have no fear!" he scolds -
"Believe!"  I beam as unknown scheme unfolds. 

Watching down below as upwards we soar,
I see Daddy and his friends -  and Moon roars, 
"Look, they're searching!." as my hope I restore.

Gently rocking mid air, the sky, my bed, 
Moon covers me with clouds' blanket, my spread.
He lays me down on the path up ahead.

I awake as my head they elevate
"What's this long rope for?" one friend speculates.
Starting to tell them, yet I hesitate...

"I found it ... while playing down by the creek
and followed it up to where this hill peaks."
Begging, "Can I keep it?" my tale I tweak.


February 18, 2020

Edward Ibeh's contest:  Pick a Title 14, Tristitch

In a literary context, the term felix culpa can describe how a series of unfortunate events will eventually lead to a happier outcome.  fortunate fault.
Form: Tristich

Vaulting Ambition

With the wakened desire eerie, to be something,
It overgrows soon to be and have all-- everything;
The inner drive mounts a crazy tipsy horse clever,
Closes not on the unjust chase nor the goal ever
But for sure gets into too complex a confusion
That cannot find the fruition,lost in the delusion


A look back: and there is a huge, vast ruffled lot
Delinking time,space and the intent with each trot
Gone away are those that breathed full and wild,
Strong and firm against mind's all prompts mild,
With the darting strides sprinted with the gallop:
Somewhere in the dark corner of hope,all call up


Fostered,it grows fast ,certain only to disorder,
Distort the well cherished mettle yond the border;
The self overgrows toa monster,senseless of all:
The good and the noble,distant kith or kin, or pal;
One might loudly recall those tall conquests futile
And the great falls to the nadir in a bit short while
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Pure Inspiration

There once was a feline who howled and whined
Resembling a babe bawling in its prime
All the day and night long,  it shrieked and cried
They told me of the psycho cat’s demise
~~~
Then there was a virus that brought us down
Left hearts floating gently through evergreens
Tossed our spirits all around this small town
Sabbatical dreams after quarantine
~~~
From seas ran liquid deep, silent and free
Beckoning the shore for more composure
Freeing souls to reach out to the morrow
Eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sand beach
~~~
Falling softly through the warmth of sweet faith
Music whispers to my ear from wind’s grace
Singing secrets so clear I feel muse’ praise
The label I hide on the wine bottle
~~~
Pure Inspiration!







Collaborate with me Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues 
September 16, 2020
Form: Verse

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