Long Groaned Poems
Long Groaned Poems. Below are the most popular long Groaned by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Groaned poems by poem length and keyword.
A walk to the park
The crisp morning air
There’s frost on the ground
A chill everywhere
Squirrels scurry about
From here to there
They notice me not
I’m needn’t a care
Sitting alone
…those four wooden chairs
Waiting for me
And calling me there
Eight chains frozen
…hanging straight and so tight
Awaiting all burdens
From one winter’s night
Wooden and cold
…but just right for thee
She squeaked and groaned
Then waited for me
I gripped her links
…what was my plan
Push back - release
Or do all I can
I looked to the heavens
…then in front of me
Another man standing
His chance to speak
Needn’t a jingle
…or even a sway
My time has passed
Send wisdom his way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The windmill groaned before the dawn,
her hands already chapped with dawn-tasks,
his fingers practicing Braille lessons on the kitchen table~
both stiff-backed and deliberate,
both heavy with the weight of wheat and words.
Fifteen names,
each one dug into the earth like fence posts:
Clarabell, Dulce, John, Stanley,
each syllable hauled up from the well
with aching shoulders.
The schoolhouse smelt of ink and sweat,
of small hands learning Braille and
the shape of silence,
while their own children ran wild
between rows of corn,
half-feral, half-holy.
Drought years gnawed at the ledger,
but the well never ran dry~
only deeper,
only darker.
At dusk, they counted heads by lamplight,
his thumb brushing her cracked knuckles,
her voice a rasp of hymns and harvest.
They buried two.
Thirteen grew tall as sunflowers.
The Kansas prairie took what it was owed~
calluses, sweat, sleep~
but left them standing,
left them leaning into each other
like split-rail fences
in a wind that never stills.
the mirror warped at the sight of her distorted face
condensed tears spoke louder than thundering words
‘swoosh’ and down went another part of her soul
tore apart the bevelled edges and smeared her grin
a window paned groaned when it reflected the image
mould began to ache at the frame of moist darkness
‘follow me to the heart of despair and you must listen’
but the cacophony only heightened the sense of foul smell
stench oozed from margins of trance and transcended
purulent voices shouted at scars to rejoice and applaud
screams hammered the nails into her flesh at the cross
reverie to nightmares dazed a suspended anticipation
of fear hallucinating cobwebs in apathetic labyrinths
mazed anger disguised as sorrow as they cut into flesh
once a sweet passion fruit now rusty corrosion splashed
her skin and pierced hope as it uttered ‘don’t let me go’
a silent and frightening retreat unfastened a dream catcher
lost bare threads falling on deaf ears blasted delusions
small feathers of resolve budged under duress and floated
until her looking glass shattered into one hundred pieces
the shards screeched unwilling to form a mosaic of relief
resembled her broken façade lacerated skin and reflections
and yet somehow the sensation felt like a puncture of dread
the childhood princess had reached rock bottom and wept
‘do not hurt me Daddy I am immaculate and innocent’
‘Mom why don’t you protect me with unblemished care’
yet bleeding into night terror and sheets only wet his abuse
until she realized she was the victim and not guilty or at fault
when she grasped fragments of recollections and scraps
aimed the splinters at where they came from and sliced
into her parents’ evil rape of her vulnerable juvenescence
they died a painful death and she finally imagined a future
01st November 2020
The sky, clear with a brilliant full moon
And a wind sprang up from nowhere,
pouncing on and howling about the house,
as she lay in bed, and stared at the square space
of the window, waiting for what was taking place.
She knew if she got out of bed and hastened a quick peek,
he might somehow know, and that might cause him to leave.
Over the sound of the wind, she heard footsteps
on the rooftop, of tiny little feet!
He was coming, he was coming!
She stared and her heart thudded!
And she lay still for a moment.
Then suddenly sat up and hollered "He's here! He's here!"
Her husband groaned.."Huh...wha? Who's here?"
But it was suddenly daylight now, it was morning
and she was awake,
and the image stayed for just a moment
and then it was gone,
and she remembered
she was all grown up!
Darn
Written with sorrowful memories of the war taking
place inside the one I loved ~ through his perspective
I spent time with a friend in a low place
but that friendly face become a blur
when the frown of Jesus stared back at me
from the bottom of an empty bottle
With head in tremblilng hands, I groaned
realizing my life was upside down
and that 'friend,' my wife, had left me all alone
Remembering that phone conversation
when I said, "You left me. I can't hold you any more."
I cringed when she replied,"You left me each time
you raised a bottle to your lips."
I couldn't argue with her. She was right.
I take the blame for this weakness I despise
Hate knowing I put the tears in her eyes.
It's not easy to always be misunderstood
but no one knows the dept of my darkness
So don't preach to me about what I've done wrong
I know the words. I used to sing that song.
I've weathered times when I was cold as ice
Been rained upon beneath darkened skies
Shivered while trying to find my way home
and swore I'd change the way I live my life
Then I surrendered to the thirst, in sacrifice
Drowning in an ocean, lost in waves of doubt
only fortifified in depths beyond the shallows
where I fill a bottle with hundred proof brine
It's the elixir I call 'My besotted self-defense'
I'm fighting a war within riddled thoughts
and it's already cost me the love in her heart
I'm hoping one day I'll find peace of mind
and lay down the shield of my armament
The weapon in a bottle that I can't live without
My heart lay barely beating, drowning in a marinade
of salted tears that fell from my reddened eyes.
Blood dripped down my chin from biting my swollen lips
as if they were wounded like a heart pierced by words
that were hurled as if they were whetted daggers.
Whose fingertips drew the target upon my lashed back?
The attack ripped my flesh, inflicting pain without pause.
My cries were echoing in refrain, pleading for the cause.
No response was given as I cringed and groaned
in this shadowed place, this empty void.
In fetal position on the floor, I flinched each time
I heard knuckles wrapping upon my weathered door.
Sluggish was my mind, as if waking from a nap,
wishing I could snap out of Alice's realm where I can't tell
if I'm under a spell or walking in a hellish nightmare
of reality where I wax and wane like sunlight and moonbeams.
Many things that surround me are not always as they seem.
Accordin' to my totally unbiased and very detailed research,
Jerimiah Flood pastored the Happy Valley Baptist Church.
From the pulpit he flailed his arms as if fightin' a hive of bees,
Elicitin' "Hallelujahs" and bringin' sinners fallin' to their knees!
His boomin' voice disturbed the peace of those who chose to sleep.
Interminable two-hour sermons were tolerated by his faithful flock of sheep.
He preached hellfire and damnation and the dire results of sin.
He was a'gin any form of gamblin' or dancin' and drinkin' moonshine gin!
An all-day meetin' with dinner on the grounds was an annual tradition,
A time to repent for sins of commission and omission in order to avoid perdition!
Dinner was held under the spreadin' sycamores if the weather allowed.
A half-hour blessin' by Jerimiah was normal as hungry stomachs growled!
Tables groaned 'neath heaps of fried chicken, baked beans and pertaters,
Green bean casseroles and garden fresh stuff includin' beefsteak termaters.
Most disturbin' and unknown to the reverend, there was a little tad of booze,
Snuck into the gatherin' and surreptitiously shared by old Deacon Hughes!
Pastor Flood served the faithful congregation for nigh on forty years,
Baptisin', marryin' and buryin' through many happy times and tears.
Oh, I failed to mention Sister Lois, ancient organist and director of the choir.
Her tea was spiked and she became so inebriated she was invited to retire!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
His kiss like a cool breath
against her fevered skin…
Ssssssizzled!
With eyes bright
she looked up at him
with the intensity
that burned inside him.
He kissed her with a fervor
that flared out of control,
kissing her cheek
the side of her neck.
Blindly she turned
her mouth into his
and felt a wild rush
as his tongue touched hers.
She groaned
and twisted her body,
He lowered his head to her breast,
She moaned at the feel of his
tongue rasping against her nipple
shooting fever through her veins.
She ached and trembled
with the sensation sweeping
her away with the rising
tide of her pulsating heart…
There’s a golden haze on the meadow
Yonder the sun sets for the day.
~11/17/18
~Sexy Poetry Contest
Host: Lewis Raynes
Written: January 16, 2024
___________________________________
Strength of herbs oozes vivacity and harmony
Chamomile elixir elevates mood,
Innermost wassail dreams.
Galled, gurgling water groaned
A shining auric foil, ebullience in water,
Watching koi carp float sends us into zen.
In a bucolic corner, sipping a hot emollient tea
Warming, calming, and flower-scented,
It whistles with the birds.
Ethereal beam of brightness finds its way
Into every steeping cup,
Fetching a warm grin with each sip.
These leaves warm our hearts
Drinking it on a cold night is a thrill,
A nostalgic aroma of pride soothes minds.
Visions of China brimming the psyche,
a lambent tour of exotic, distant lands.
THE TENTH WAVE
The rain drops prick the skin of the sea
Tumble with the urchins in the water,
The black water, so heavy, tired--
Watching it tic tac toe in millions of tiny rings
Tic tac toe, three by three by three
Up until infinity--
As scores of seagulls watched from buoys
Red sky at night, sailor's delight
Isn't that how it goes?
All hands on deck! All hands!
Until then came, out of the night sky, a wind
With the sound and fury of a thousand black horses
Pummeling down on the water, the great, fearsome ocean
And stirring it up like a bowl of soup
All hands!
The great boats all groaned in protest,
Their wet, wooden bellies full
Reeds choking shores uprooted and flew at the storm
The whole world seemed to be feeding the storm,
Which would not be satiated, but howled for more
Chunks of earth, wood, sail, even human souls
Would not appease such an appetite
And then, in the pulse of three hours, a brief
Quiet...
...an aching silence
where the sun deceived them
By shirking off the clouds for a moment
Hear the call of the birds...
Red sky at morning, at morning, at mourning
It was then that the waves began--
Undulating at first, feel the water breathe,
Soon rising, rising, black towers
Into walls of water no one could scale,
Ripping across the top in violent zig-zags
White madness, the open mouth-
-and they came, they came in rows
As tall as nightmares, even hungrier than the wind
And they ate up everything they touched,
Swallowing lives, swallowing that which made them
Pulling our dwarfed armies into the deep, deep
Dark, black salt water
Until then, after the herald, and the birds didn't sing anymore
A tenth wave, which rose colossal over the rest,
Moving like a lost city,
Over the darkness, a shadow covering this world
Silenced what was left to be silenced
Little sailors
Little sailors
All sailor's songs end
And On the Land
Your little wives
Will catch your songs on the wind
Will pick up those songs on the winds