Long Grimness Poems
Long Grimness Poems. Below are the most popular long Grimness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grimness poems by poem length and keyword.
Our hands are tied, Death
Since you dawned on us this New Year . . .
Shapely bottles of champagnes have shone
And have broken to fragments with the ululation
Of firecrackers that warmed cold and dark wintry skies.
Now, aphonia sets in from unending lamentations.
Headlines, buried by the chilly bones of winter,
Are barren of good tidings.
A chionophile besieges the rim of a sedulous Yuletide
Grieving by oneiric alleys . . .
I speak of the Friedhof of haunting grimness behind
The curtains of howling winds;
Chants that frequent the disease of frightened melodies, stained
With the aged banality of youthful death;
And the purlieu of cremated souls and consolidated ashes.
Daggers are drawn to paint skulls on canvas slit by the
Whispering tongues of fire
Candles burn their tallow gently on the skin of cancer,
A stinkaroo that stinks with rage.
We do not know how else to turn the calendar.
The edges brim with hostile, burning blood,
Frozen with bits of hate and servile penetralia.
New Year hangs the singed sigil of death
On the bosom of fattened scrolls.
I came out of our mother's womb
crying, attesting to the grimness of the tomb;
and taking this journey through the unknown,
I realize how much I have grown.
With deep curiosity and longing, I am bound to discover
the purpose for living either in happiness or grief;
there'll never be complete joy, and with this belief
I praise this very existence and the need to go farther.
I have hung on drudgery, increasing anxiety all the while
and toiling away, nothing has rewarded me with any glory;
I hovered to the side to catch glimpses of folks looking happy:
laughing and showing their glitz in diamonds with elite style.
Is there another courageous man standing on the slipping edge
forced to choose life or death? What's my chance at happiness:
failure or success? It all depends on the moods and choices;
what do I ask for besides well-being and peace to subdue rage?
With eagerness I delve in those dark depths of the distant cosmos,
wishing to know the obscure mysteries hidden in the fixed stars...
the ones that control fate and abound with astrological signs;
shouldn't I settle for the things that delight and offer simple joys?
Veil of midnight, shroud of ache,
A hollow heart begins to wake,
Unfed, unwhole, in shadow curled,
Craving life within this world.
A wraith unseen yet bound to thirst,
The agony—a wicked curse,
Flesh untouched but essence bled,
Hungering for what is shed.
Through trembling dark and frigid moan,
I grasp at souls, yet stand alone,
Each stolen breath a fleeting glow,
Still starving deep in depths below.
Ravishing grimness, wretched plight,
A suffering that breeds delight,
To drink, to drain, to taste the soul,
To feel—then lose—control.
In tortured pangs, my hollow cries,
A thirst that burns, that never dies,
No blood will sate, no flesh repair,
Only whispers in the air.
The void consumes, yet I remain,
Bound by hunger, wracked with pain,
A phantom lost, unseen, yet near,
Feeding off your trembling fear.
And when the night betrays the dawn,
Another voice—another gone,
A feast of echoes, dimly bright,
Devoured whole before the light.
As a pebble from a rough rock, my existence began.
Did I, devoid of destiny, have a peculiar plan?
I was caught between the caves of waves and tricky boulders.
The sun over the seashores was not less than a smoulder.
Haphazardly, with nothing of my gleeful goal, I flowed
Amidst coarseness, a ray of refulgence from within glowed.
Hazardous hardships of grinding and gravelling I bore
Priceless perfection, yet, passionately possessed my core
Twisted, turned, and tossed, my hard edges got softened and smoothed.
Indeed, there were moments too, when, by sea waves, I got soothed.
I am strong now. I'm bright and shining like a sparkling gem.
Shreds of sun and moon hide between the bold folds of my hem.
How I am joyous when I am in a child's tender hold!
How grimness grills my heart when, by a merchant, I am sold!
Ups and downs are parts of process my existence, I know.
This is why I don't fear when in streams like a leaf I flow.
I am humble even when I look tall, fat, high, or wide.
In the process of my becoming, I have lost my pride.
As every being or nonbeing, I too might be gone.
Isn't life a bon voyage from the known to the unknown?
Written: October 28, 2023, For Unseeking Seeker Contest
_____________________________
Amid the distress and pressure of life,
A salient soul suspires to scamper strife.
Despite bodily weakness and a lingering graze,
Unwavering strength and vitality inside amaze
Breath may be beleaguered, even as the body ails.
Flog to fatten, follow, even if fiefdom fails.
It rises beyond tough times with its optimism.
In desultory days, grasp toward agnosticism.
Nature's gentle whistle splendors serenity.
In the shades of a sunset and bird melody.
The body fails, but the spirit stays hopeful.
It speaks for drive and the resolve to be careful.
It glides amid a storm fearlessly, paving the way.
Amid agony, the soul rises, grows, and stays.
Each rebirth lends the soul wings and a slope.
Despite the gloom, there's still a glint of hope.
Allow the body to suffer and the soul to soar.
Yet it is the spirit that prevails over deplore.
Rejuvenation is the answer to physical illness.
A soaring persona that can bear on grimness
Embrace depth inside; the spirit ablaze is untamed.
Let ailments prevail; rousing spirits set us unblamed.
Despite all odds, the spirit shines brightly amid sorrow.
It climbs above, decries its path, and is never hollow.
Renewal lets you start again, fix harm, and be free.
Honor the body aches as they reveal our glee.
Rebirth lifts the soul, ruining walls and letting in light.
Hardship lends life and shows God's eternal insight.
While bones and skin plunge, souls remain.
With every harm and grief, refuse to be slain.
The probe fire speaks while the body is feeble.
It lights a bright spark that leads us to a needle.
~ *~
So terriblbly concerned with a virus!
We do not see the USA standards shrink.
We'd prefer to listen to bouncy, Miley Cyrus.
Or get loaded with a good, stiff drink!
A new President wants vaccines for 9/11 terrorists?
Loves terrorist nations, so why are you so upset?
You know clearly he is far from bright nor a mentalist.
Worse, some support flag burnings and riots at sunset!
Children are at home like dogs in cages and this,you
happily accept?
One nation, not under God, leads to deadly violence.
Even Americans paying for foreign abortions, have you
no self-respect?
The free-speech doctrine is at the heart of the Constitution.
But the Dictator-in-Chief, who swore to uphold it, like an
uncontrollable child, now shreds it, with gleeful relief!
And, from every hard working American, calls on them to
pay for restitution?
The largest churches,must be punished, perhaps destroyed,
he declares!
While teachers want unsafe,deadely vaccines for innocent
school children.
Seniors, sorry,be quiet, you get none, beware!
While the dark clouds of censorship just grow in the USA empty,
wilderness, the grimness we all share
1/31/2021
~1~
It is hard to really tell you
The beauty of this man
For many simply find it
Too hard to understand
They laugh, they smile, and tease
As I describe his every being
They just can’t fully see
The splendor that I’m seeing
Though he is just a character
I really can care less
He is real in this crazy heart of mine
So give your teasing a rest!
His hair is black as ebony
His voice as smooth as milk
It reminds me of dark chocolate sliding across oiled silk
His face is pale and serious
With black eyes that pierce your own
His grimness makes me envious
In this world he is alone
His nose is hooked—but not too much!
And his rare smiles are divine
His black robes add a vicarious touch
I wish he could be mine!
As far as personality goes,
I say, he’s quite the charmer!
Dexterously shielded by a past of foes
Beneath his shame of honor
Sometimes he’s angry, but mostly glum
Rarely is he content
He lost his love, cold and lonesome
Sarcasm is his lament!
Alone he lingers in the dark
Torn and set apart
No one knows he has left a mark
Right smack-dab on my heart!
I stared intently at book and screen
When they first came on
Every word he utters is like a dream
And then again—he’s gone!
Nevertheless he leaves me
With a feeling so grand
At loss of words from the awe he gives me
A joy that no one understands
Can I help but swoon and gape,
At the great professor Severus Snape?
*Note: Although Alan Rickman is a contributing factor to my obsession,
I’m seriously just in love with the character…and that is my confession!
Here lies a silver silence, hopelessly violent
embroidered in the corners of my lips,
Steady and stern standing on a steel of stillness,
Then, in a sudden sweep the soil begins its shift,
Why do you keep scaring off the sanctity of gravity?
The very pavement to my soles,
Why do the sounds of our thoughts enhance our virility?
Cause chaotic curiosities,
Why, in the mists of your eyes I feel the undiscovered dreams,
The opaque definition of what a silhouette of the sunsets mean
while a cluster of clouds swim amongst its rays,
Cruel conscience creeping through unopened spaces,
Revealing reasons why must these walls stand,
When they have begun to feel like the simple sands
softly dancing to the swirling sequence of the sea.
Show me the depths of the ocean,
Let the grimness of my heart wade through the gills of all your monsters,
Like a jellyfish in a pile of predators.
Pierce , pin , push or perhaps pull,
Have all and more verbs take their motions onto me,
kindly construct a hidden infirmary for the velocity of what may progress,
Set an anchor through my ribs and sail away to the divine infinite firmament.
Bandicoot's bounce over my dead lead head.
Grim the outlook,
I am the grimness in my own storybook.
Moods are my mannerism's.
Gooey nose - a stonking flu
got me
now I mimic a monkey
with my bullhorn blowing.
When will the sun rise my eyes?
Blighted by sniffles, I dizzy and sway
to the 'Drug Mart', there to gag and goggle;
at so many meds for a bunged-up head.
Handfuls of hope
back to the laze-upon floozy chair
guzzling pills a popping.
Later, write this,
mayhap get pissed on some bitter brew.
Bandicoot's snoring.
A little peckish.
Here a glimmer
there it is, the shiny light,
feeling svelte in a sky bright blue.
Sniffing better, sleep later.
Could our verity be any unique?
Whenever the twenty-first century is antique,
Links are the best way to deal with everything
When even the pencils will betide self-replicating,
The whole would be vastly improved
And, the fortune of the rich would be approved
Would remove those in requisite thoroughly
There will be no grimness when there is no infirmity.
Autos would be entirely electrical
Fuel and diesel would behoove skeptical,
News and journals will be made ready on digital
People react to move visions by a flash signal.
Parcels won't be uttered for a long time
Besides, astonishingly swiftly and in prime
On voice order, pencils and pens would work
Baring, scribble down all that we would rework.
Everybody will include a robot in their house
That will perform anything, including catching a mouse
It will cook meals and neaten the home, with no screams
Additionally, conceive all your expectations and dreams.
The earth will deem even as sole leader
A man with odd propensity and backbone neater
We might glean the option to dwell out in the cosmos
And we'd stray out on rockets to shop for blue camos.
How slightly does the world treat spot our sacred history?
Purvey future posterity with a canvas to our glittery
Sober-mindedness is the best way to crumble in terror
Indeed, pens will be automatized to abject horror.
Written: February 06, 2022
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