Long Garrote Poems
Long Garrote Poems. Below are the most popular long Garrote by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Garrote poems by poem length and keyword.
Since time out of mind, out of thought,
a molecule of mankind (like I)
is held hostage by the garrote
of just being, and wonders why
the universe has it overwrought,
but too woebegone to ramify.
As my fragile frame and presence
of mind contract and then explode,
aspects of self lose existence
(like schizophrenic à la mode):
and therefore no longer make sense,
whilst suffering a manic episode.
Because of my mad disorder,
these lines reflect a troubled rhyme
(and an unbalanced word order);
still, so long as I feel sublime,
there won't be need (by court order)
for me to do more Bedlam time.
Continued from Part 1
“Upon your knees in golden naves, while peeking through the slots,
You horded thirty silver pieces, downed a whiskey shot,
Then crossed yourself and wrapped yourself in furs of ocelots,
And danced on cleated cloven hoofs in purple polka-dots,
Then drank His blood from chalice cups with pious afterthoughts.
“You’ve treated men like mongrels chained, like little flies to swat,
By doing what you wanted to, instead of what you aught;
You’ve wiped your nose with dollar bills and paid your serfs with snot,
But when you’ve paused to preen your pride, you’ve scrubbed a scarlet blot.
“In ashes of our victories: the diamonds that you sought,
The crock of gold, the Golden fleece of bogus Argonauts -
In mirrors of your lifelessness, the evils you begot.
“The haunted winds strew leaves of time across a shallow plot
Where now, beneath the frozen stones blanched bodies bathe in rot,
Disintegrate, return to dust to feed Forget-Me-Nots
Amidst the bane and pits of pain where broken bones lie caught.
“In fields above the catacombs and tombs of Camelot
The black and withered tree of Death arises from the spot
Where oft beneath a bleeding moon you hid your gold in pots
Embedding doubts neath barren bogs where roots of wormwood squat.
“While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
From branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
Your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
With dangling pearls and diamond studs mid dripping crimson clots
And gaping wounds with bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
For wrapped in chains around your throat, the Reaper’s grim garrote.”
Yes, that’s the fate of all your kind, disclosed by Wise Men taught.
But that was, oh, so long ago, by now you have forgot…
End
Nowadays it’s difficult to live as an uneducated
Un-education is a curse- it’s known to all-wise
Wisdom sometimes unable to show the right path
Path erects many roots where grow puzzling ideals
Ideas of life bring conflicting doctrine in believers
Belief is truth for who believes, not for equal to real
Reality can dig out the past, present to show the true
Truth, though is an undeniable piece of any knowing
Knowledge of certain books garrote the curious learned
Learning on the natural ways is prohibited heritage
Heirs of the ancient lit up fatalistic light everywhere
Where the conscience keeps losing power to followers
Following is not wicked but a blind brain imports nothing
Things of biased acumen can abuse the value of anything
29.08.2020 Chattogram
***Note***
I want to learn everything through new ways
Although for that I have to be uneducated
The knowledge of the old scriptures is not suitable for me
Because I am learning myself with conscience everyday
This Bard Doth Drink From The Same Well As Thee...
Everybody sharing planet Earth means,
they moost breathe
the same befouled air
encircling the webbed material,
physical, and terrestrial wide world,
where noxious poisons get spewed
from industries,
that wantonly belch and blare
seemingly, indiscriminatingly,
and deplorably - toxins affecting
all living organisms - care
lessly damaging, harming,
and extinguishing offspring
at reproductive stage
of Mother Earth, who dare
ring lee fight back with tooth,
and nail despoliation polluting,
unleashing, and
zapping sea and sky e're
decreasing biodiversity necessary
ditto clear cutting,
encroaching habitats,
and killing off vital
linkedin ecosystems fear
row huss lee trump glare
ring depredations here
and now exacerbated inhere
rent lee by overturned
ecological/environmental
bulwarks jeer
ring lee scrapped by a president,
who stole winning ballot
springing trapdoors to garrote
legislation supporting
jerryrigged oblate spheroid,
with mean temperature so hot
to evaporate flora,
and fauna protections
eventually rendering *****sapiens
a metrical footnote
with only an umlaut
to punctuate how greed
spelled what their
own extinction wrought!
Once and forever upon infinite times it seemed the
maze of shattered fragments tattered mosaic and
broken shards and void of nowhere in the shredded
tapestry and guillotine of darkness had descended
into an arid garden shrivelled mind and suffocating
clouds in bouts of shrouds of rigor mortis wriggling
from a long gone heaven into a self-imposed garrote
and suicidal tempest’s guardian hanging by a thread
Midnight was hell in plantations of Guernica as the
dark side of orbital shadows festered popsicles of
ragged icy water derelict vessels towards demise
Angel is too small a word for the spoon descending
into my heart cuddling the spikes and spices sprinkled
scoops of hoops amazing graces when passion and
extinct desire kindled kinder spirits and inflamed a
perished forlorn moon from craters of lonely desolation
Synchronicity enveloped the mutual satellites of love and
sensual perfume fragrant consummating dreams and
screams of joy’s exuberance rescued from pre-mortal final
fasciculation the peaceful miracle of vibrant life and living
11th February 2017
5/23/17
Put you to sleep
And six feet deep
Instead of turning the other cheek
Toss you in a box of pine
Where the light never shines
Meanwhile, close by masses pray at a shrine
Every Sunday at nine
Eating a cracker and taking a drink of wine
As the planets occasionally align
Since far before the dawn of mankind
Swinging down from a vine
To put 'em in a bind
And choke another out with garrote instead of twine
Then cover it up with lime
Thinking like Einstein
Drawing a fine line
Among simple or intricate patterns and designs
I'm drenched in slime
And so much grime
Yet still on the climb
All the time
Will look you in your eye
Until you die
Without saying goodbye
Birds still or in the sky
As they fly and glide
She wanted to be my Bonnie if I'd
Be her Clyde
She sent me a valentine
And kept giving me all kinds
Of signs
Saying she wanted to be mine
He loved to take his ladies to the Point,
a place that only locals knew about.
He hated bars or any kind of joint
where common folks with wagging tongues hung out.
The Point had a view of all the city.
Far from the crowds, it had the perfect spot
where he could take each woman oh so pretty,
and place around her white neck a garrote.
He loved to see the terror in their eyes
and feel them struggle with their strangled breath.
His stunning looks and charm were the disguise
that led them up that mountain to their death.
The point is that no woman could discern
his truth until their point of no return.
Dec. 9, 2016
There is an abysmal void in the hollow of my breast
where once my heart pulsed, now weak and weary.
I cannot quell emotions your death has repressed
since our cord of silken threads has come unraveled.
Malaise in my heart leaves me cold and dreary.
I long to embrace you on the doorstep of time,
never allowing it to deprive me of you again.
I ache for the warmth of your breath on my nape,
and inhale the virile scent of you that lingers.
From these cherished memories I seek no escape.
Chilled are my nights, even beside the fireside,
while reading romantic sonnets you wrote.
I can quote your verses, every line in verbatim
but the sound of my voice in an empty room
leaves me yearning for silence, death by garrote.
I swear I hear your steps over thresholds I cross.
Wisps of your hair remain in your bristled brush.
Your laughter seems to float upon the air,
and your footfalls tread upon the creaky stair
until I whisper, "It's not him. Hush, please hush."
Dear memory, how long shall you torture me?
Each reverie, a dagger thrust to its hilt in my heart.
Answer me, when shall I live a life of quiet repose?
How long shall I be haunted by the illusion,
of the man who vowed we would never part?
Timid is my approach to the room's tenebrous corner.
With his vestige close, I cling to him in the night.
Our shadows dance. In his arms, I'm swept away.
With each swaying step his presence I garner,
as we waltz across the room in the glow of moonlight.
November 26, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon ~ Mile 21 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Gasoline tears
The truck
Plows forward
Into the masses
Blood and destruction
Morality hijacked by abduction
Evil deeds pervade these cloudy days
Compassion is tossed into the sea in place of the devils seduction
Humanity dances with both tears and foe, the meek shall be the victors
Satan’s followers shall face the garrote, headless will be those boa constrictors
Do not be fooled by silent ones and men behind masks disguising their petty angers
Humanity dances with both tears and foe, the meek shall be the victors
Rays of the sun, the glow of the moon, and the beat of loves heart
Flower gardens shall grow tall, on the soil of the rotten evil ones
Goodwill shall peak behind the clouds, hugging humanity
Compassion shall dance on angelic wings
Love and passion triumphant
Plows forward towards
Eternity
Hardly, a Human Being!
Get a hammer and garrote that
brainchild,
That demonic smartphone, I propose.
That mutant who seduces you,
With most amorous rings!
Put the sultry siren to rest,
Tune into the real world, as it's
simply the best!
Above all else do not invite family or
best friends over for dinner.
Place the sultry siren on it, next to your
sweaty palms on the table at dinner,
Then start taking calls, checking messages,
and avoiding human contact, you dolt!
If you are alone with this devious device,
have at it, play with it, stay up all night!
But never avoid human connection!
Thinking, mistakingly that the human
is less than that interruptive thing?
See...there you go!
Already?
Like Road Runner racing, entranced by
ear bling,
Lost to its call~ to her captivating
insidious ring!
Panagiota Romios
4/9/2019