Long Fury Poems
Long Fury Poems. Below are the most popular long Fury by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fury poems by poem length and keyword.
The Scripture asserts this truth in Luke 21:11:
“And great earthquakes shall be in divers places,
and famines, and pestilences; and fearful sights
and great signs shall there be from heaven.”
Already prophesied… thus, expected to happen.
With such turmoil, I, DISASTER personified present to you
my horrifying rage smiting mountains’ grandeur
igniting volcanoes to burst out flames reminding hell’s torture forever
awaiting the faithless and unbelievers to yell midst restlessness’ angst
sealed in their deplorable doom midst cruel defiant hatred.
You’ve witnessed my fury as devouring CALAMITY
revealed by my forest fire’s peril…
such is just a glimpse of unending heat in hell’s no-exit destiny
where misery gloom prevails in endless darkness
due to sufferings and hopelessness pangs
leaving righteousness-offenders in their guilty status.
My wrath’s unleashing fatal power of ruthless CATASTROPHE
reigns over mankind’s abuse of nature, bringing pestilence
as sun’s scorching heat keeps emitting deadly rays
voicing out grim warning of hell-fire's everlasting torment
expressing death's wailing every second
as sorrows, anguish, woes howl in wild lamentation
with constant gnashing of teeth terribly experienced.
In my PERDITION forces, you’re awakened by God Almighty
now, reflect on this reality as I appeal to your body, soul and spirit…
my terror is still no match with hell's tenacious grip
which you can miss to obtain peace-filled freedom
by trusting the Saviour and Lord Jesus Christ placing your faith in HIM
Who already vanquished hell by His sacrificial love*
toward triumphant "end of age" welcoming unending agelessness.
*Romans 5:8 But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
Dramatic Monologue with personification
May 8, 2021
9th place, "A Poem of Horror" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Funom Makama; judged on 5/12/2021.
7 LITTLE FIELD MICE WHERE ARE THEY NOW
There were 7 little field mice;
Living in the field;
One mouse cried;
It’s cold outside;
So pack of six;
Nibbled at the corner of the house;
And that is how the seven got inside;
But alas one mouse died;
Ate some great tasting D-con;
Seven went in the house,
So now there’s six;
There were 6 little field mouse;
In this nice house;
You see it’s cold outside;
Wow!! The furnace is running;
House is clean but there’s some crumbs up under;
In back of the refrigerator some bread crumbs;
And under the sink some water to drink;
Oh, Oh there’s a mouse trap
“S N A P”
There goes Fred;
Guess, He’s dead, dummy nibble on the trap
Set off the bar, down on his head
Yeah! He’s DEAD Freddie’s dead
If there are mice in heaven in the skies;
Guess, we’ll see him later when we die;
Now there’s five
So four little mice in the house;
Benny ate a hole in the bed;
The mattress taste great;
But he got a stomach ache
He choked on cotton, that’s the end of him;
So now he to is dead leaving only three;
Three little mice in the house;
Played tagged running around zig-zag;
Came out of the wall;
And saw Paul being eaten by a big-fury cat
And now there’s only two mice left;
And to think they were 7 little field mouse;
Snuck into the house;
Only because it’s was cold outside;
Also the furnace is running;
And in the nooks and cranny's plenty of food and trash to nibble on;
Well now there are only 2 mice left;
But little did they know;
They too must go;
For you see the home owner’s a MAD SCIENTIST
Alas!!! Where the 2 LITTLE FIELD MICE WHERE ARE THEY NOW
11/7/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2018©
Supine craggy canopy basking beneath the blue sky,
rests on bent boughs flushed with opulence of foliage.
The mighty oak has seen many misty winters pass by,
but its procreative ebullience hasn’t yet turned senile.
In the nestling cradle of the forfending folds of leaves,
we the furtive acorns flourish like the kernels of love,
the toughened tree has fostered in the trove of time,
deeming us as the touch of feathers birds feel on flight.
The lively clusters filled with latent luxuriance of life,
face the fury of storms, the strike of squirrels and jays.
As I see my flocks fall on fallow land leaving me alone,
I cling to the clasp of the frail stem of future obscure.
Someday soaring gale of promise will gently glide by me,
dislodged, I’ll drift to a distant landscape of sun and rain.
I’ll sprout in sanguine sequence for infinite forest to form,
where on verdant wings will fly the dream of the last acorn.
April 27, 2020
Contest : The Last Acorn
Sponsor : John Lawless
This Fury-Fiery Moment of Hot Sensual Love
This fury-fiery moment of hot sensual love nourishes us now,
As we move from a caress to razor-close, then to lover-close,
Intertwined as one in a true tempestuous storm sparkling afire!
We share such a white-hot passion with a boundless fiery desire,
Blending us deeply in a fury-fiery emotion of love’s true inspire;
Bringing us to this apex with lust as love and love in lust’s hour!
This magic moment melds our passion into a true alchemy of love.
This prized-perfect passion purrs us now into satiated contentment,
As our hearts bask-bright in a fury-fiery moment of sensual desire!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved – May 19, 2016
(Rhyme)
The Untitled Poem
Born to die, we live to dream
Thoughts flowi boundless as the sky
The world closing in with a cold metal scream
As we search for the how, scan for the why
Pray for an answer to the problem of living.
Our questions are old, desires unforgiving
We make love and war, with passionate fury
We tally the balance of taking, giving
Thinking like judges and behave like juries
Cooling our emotions in reason's soft light.
We decide our own fates on the edge of night
When the time comes and finds us no place to retreat
We control our rage, command our fright
To take leave of us, casting weakness at our feet
To take our place at last, to look back nevermore.
The time draws near, when we shall knock on Heaven's door.
She stood proud and tall
Arms spread wide.......
Her mysterious face serene
Knowledge of past and future in her eyes
Recalling the torrents of the yesteryears
As tiny drops of rain dripped
Into the parched earth below
Unknown to men the rain Goddess smiled
Her drops fell and vanished into the mud
Seeing the future her brows wrinkled
The torrent fell amid thunder
The meadow and the riverside
Were the witness of the fury
Of the gentle rain Goddess.....!
Her white steed whined and neighed
As thunder God appeared......
Oh so handsome was he
As he accompanied the rain
The God and Goddess held hands
As the sleeping village submerged
The future was fearsome
Unknown to man who slumbered
By-Tahera Mannan
Contest- Rain,The Story
Sponsored by- Constance La france ~A Rambling Poet~
otra vez,otra vez`
I do, say and say again
I am the rock star of the ring
I risk my life again and again for fame,
Some might think of my passion
As just being poetic and practical
Or simply culture or unethical
However, nevertheless not when my life is on the line
Stronger than a herd of Buffaloes
Faster than the
Speed of a race horse,
He is now broken free of his corral
A streak of fury, rushes me
Despite my fear of dying,
My main focus is to
Take the bull down by its horn
>>
I looked deep into his eyes,
I saw mingling of rage
I carefully swung the cape,
A taunt of furling red
Aiming for its horns
The crowd roars, while
The old ladies sob for the bull
The men cheers for
Salvatore the Matador
Nothing more stimulating than the ladies
with the beautiful smiles
The bull is going to die
For days we were assaulted
By vicious sleet and snow
It brought life to a standstill
Many were in survival mode
Records show, it had been decades
Since such fury we had known
Just more reason to be complacent
And show how careless we had grown
Then one morning, an open curtain
Revealed bright sunlight and calm wind
There, a sigh of relief was instilled
The turbulent storm was near it's end
To me, it's a perfect metaphor
Of our sojourn in life
At times we glide on mountaintops
Then dark valleys bring pain and strife
Often after egressing from a storm
We appreciate the sunlight more
It can help us align priorities
And bring reality to the door
Though life is short, it can be sweet
If we keep the beacon light in view
By His guidance we can emerge
Into a day, - with a brighter hue
My mind is anchored on the fact
Ahead, - is a plateau calm and warm
In Heaven, there'll be eternal bliss
Truly that will be, the "end of the storm"
Colan L Hiatt = 01-25-16
© All Rights Reserved
Mostly sunny today, hot
With a high of ninety two
Chance of precipitation later on
Possibility of severe weather in some places
Though the sun shone brightly and skies were blue
Scattered thunderstorms were expected too
An easterly wind gently blew
As nomadic clouds floated through
But later that day dark clouds loomed
A roar of thunder underscored the gloom
The sky lit up with lightening strikes
Water poured down like a broken dike
The howling wind sounded like a train
approaching, speeding towards our terrain
We could hear its destructive fury
Tornado touching down as for cover we scurried
Thunder pealed and skies were gray
Destruction struck that very day
A mighty wind fiercely blew
A deadly tornado had just roared through
contest name: weather forecast
contest by: Joy Wellington
As thin as an unnoticeable shade of the sunbeam
I see your shadow flying with you as fast as your flight.
It is the particles of sand, dust, and water that gleam.
As an imperfect mirage when the sun is very bright.
Do you, by your shadow, reveal my love that often blurs?
That appears and disappears with its fancy flimsiness.
Or do you point out the moods of my madam, who prefers
A man with mammon, magnetism, might, and magnificence
Your shades have mystery, mythology, and melody.
An obsession for identity in your fury flows
Though it seems a glow show, you have traces of tragedy.
Architectural arts and monumental modes disclose
Merged within your shadow are aspirations. abundant,
With her, as a storm, tempest, or gale, you are triumphant.