Long Hallows Poems
Long Hallows Poems. Below are the most popular long Hallows by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hallows poems by poem length and keyword.
I say the word and feign a Freudian slip
From between its legs duplicities drip
Often doubling as a quip and tasting chalky, just a bit
History will record the troubling truth
that I never existed if I don’t submit
I’ll submit this thing as if it’s a soliloquy
while being transparent with reverse psychology
When transparency is brutal it packs a voice
and reverse psychology, feudal and conundrous
remains my voodoo doll of sadistic choice
I’ll submit to this contest and play my part
of being a number somewhere south of the winners art
Once again I’ll suck up to the system
and once again with all its heart the system will suck me down
without even a gesture of orbiter dictum
A social mirror once said, “we love you, submit to me”
I used to show it what I wish I could really be
but it cared more for its own scripted ego
and tried to love me like a gas-lighting lover
so I gave it the finger more than ten years ago
I’ve been told that only the cream earns Summa Cum Laude
I graduated Some Come Later from the hallows of a Christian god
So how should I wear the facade upon this stage?
I shouldn’t use “dude”, nor cliched kitsch like I just did
But I’ll not to be sullied by a tired script from a mirror’s page
Yet for the scripted glory this poet pines
He rolls his eyes at the rules, and colors colors outside the lines
Prismatic angles he declines and spanks his colors with twisted sticks
With blinding tinnitus in his transient sight he thus surrenders
and submits (to) his magniloquentesque amateur parlor tricks
Earth to novice poet... Dude, submitting is not as painful as it seems
Novice poet to Earth… No Dude, you know when falls the silent tree
I hear poetic voices but my poetic choices have disqualified me, so
this is my last reverse transmission into my pathetic poetic pipe dreams
Thank you kindly. No offense but I should just go
A field where tall bony trees,
Where hums the cool gentle breeze.
In the gentleness of the grass green,
There lived two rabbits Colin and Tim.
Colin and Tim two best friends,
Lived in little caves in the grassland.
Colin looked like autumn and fallen leaves,
His roasted chestnut fur like all hallows' eve.
Tim looked like winter, his eyes like hibiscus,
His fur as serene as snow, him as lovely as Christmas.
Two buddies, they never fought ,
Hatred, they never got taught.
Their friendship was something so admirable,
As amiable as ever, just like some sweet old fable.
One day they decided to make banana bread,
They were sitting in front of the fire when this thought came into their tiny little head.
Tim brought flour and eggs,
He ran as fast as he could with his galloping legs.
Colin had honey and bananas in his cosy candlelit kitchen,
He decided to read his grandmother's recipe
And began to learn.
They still needed chocolate and baking powder,
Tim went to the market (again) and came back singing louder.
They mixed everything together,
Their heads, light as a feather.
But something very important was still missing—oh! Vanilla,
The batter mixed, then baked, the bread was ready and voilà!
They ate wholeheartedly with smiles as soft as silk,
The banana bread tasted better in the soft pouring rain with some chocolate milk.
In the evening “All Hallow” when folks have their fun,
doing things such as losing themselves in a maze,
there are some in a labyrinth coming undone.
They’re the world’s many victims who don’t see bright days.
Every night for lost souls is their own horror show.
While most kids trick-or treat door to door for some sweets,
there are some not so lucky; to bedrooms they go
being forced to turn tricks but collecting no treats.
People love haunted houses when monsters they see,
but the children of misery live day and night
seeing monsters from whom they’re unable to flee.
We might love being scared, but they’re dying from fright,
for they’re ghosts of the houses that they’re living in,
where unseen by the world, they serve those who love sin.
Oct. 31, 2022
for the All Hallows' Evening Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
May I dance with you now as ghosts ride with the breeze,
and that witch on her broom flies up high near the moon.
While black cats with green eyes stare at us from the trees,
we'll glide past jack-o-lanterns as we sway and swoon.
This night sky is on fire with the moon's eerie glow;
silhouettes of the treetops and roofs hug the sky.
As the spirits surround us, in darkness we know
we will dance, cheek to cheek, on this night, you and I.
Dance with me, come in close as bats swirl all around;
the night creatures are watching while I hold you tight.
As owls screech, my fangs pierce! Dracula loves the sound
while enjoying this blood feast on Halloween night!
Oh, it's me, don't you see? Blood will seep, time to weep!
Here I am, perfect scam! Fangs pierce deep! Now you sleep!
October 9, 2016
Contest: All Hallows' Evening
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Anapestic Tetrameter
--/--/--/--/
spring morning glory loudly shivers while in quiet vine
the army of pumpkins herald the winter to come
night creatures do not belong in the spring light
steals the summer for the pumpkins reign
draculean teeth, werewolves claw - bullets to wreak havoc
witches storm with magic breath harvests springs renewal
spring takes the yoke of destruction foreign to its nature
to battle All Hallows Eve and save the birthing summer.
daring buds burst their pistilin swords
spirits shoot forth crystalline fear tendrils
new season birds pummel vast pumpkin fields
trumpet vines snakes the eyes of pumpkin soldiers
orange blood declares Halloweens defeat
the supernatural retire, monsters shrink back to den
spring settles commencing its seasons prerogative
summer tiptoes in...
Havoc is when all hell is loose,
This night belongs to all of you...
To the pumpkins slashed into lanterns
“Stingy Jack” his trusty O’ hand returns.
Ne'er-do-wells started carving crude faces,
whose gutted innards a candle replaces.
To the black cats with yellow eyes
Screech and scratch with no alibis.
To the banshees of the ancient Celtic folklore
Wailing at death, deep red eyes, features worn to the core
To the monsters deformed and hunched back
Bolts, nuts, and green skin, lurching and ready to attack!
The night belongs to zombies revived by voodoo.
And by the necromancy practices that you may do
They the living dead who may walk amongst
Pay respect to them in mercy goe with you alongst!
To the goblins that go bump in the night, and ghosts
Wicked fairies and evil spirits their hosts
Grotesque goblettes vengeance they choose,
Invisible underneath white sheets shout boo's
To the witches and warlocks who enchant
Their wands and wide brim pointy hats so gallant
As practitioners evoking spells of black magic
Rootstock and smelly herbs stirred with a stick.
Boiling remnants of bones and lizards
Digesting glands of bird’s gizzards
To candy corn rich red, yellow and white
Kids walking from house to house, smiles so bright,
To the Trick or Treat screams and chants
If your dressed to scare plenty of candy it grants.
Trick or treat we will, without any fright,
Our Halloween night will surely be filled with delight.
Here we come to trick or treat.
Please give us some candy sweets.
*Goblettes - woman goblins
I got me the low down blues baby,
The way down low blues
Singing in the rain ain't a thing I can do now,
Don't you know I've got it bad
So badly do I miss the wisp of lovely,
So much so, I've missed the candy corn
On the way back from the grocery store,
No happy All Hallows Eve,
No rocking in the chair on the porch
Cuz the way I feel is the lowest low
The highest mountain is invisible to me.
I got me the low down blues baby,
Don't you forget the way it feels
Cuz it feels like the storm struck
And left its mark on you,
On your soul and heart
Ne'er to depart from the low downs;
You can't get up from those
Them days is cold as ice in your veins
Or tea stains on your whitest shirt
That no man can erase,
So you must suffer the case!
Deliberation about courting death rooted
throughout mine psyche fueling sinister chortle
at least since bout with anorexia nervosa,
but... maybe ginned blood,
sans umbilical cord transfused in utero aortal,
though long since recovered, the intractable,
haunting specter, sans grim reaper
intertwining within every fiber of this mortal
rooted, grounded deep, and branched out
into each nook and cranny portal.
Said notion provoked,
when made painfully aware
youngest daughter (aged twenty)
plagued with similar thoughts,
damn genetics did maliciously engineer
clutching telephone while
seated at edge of chair
did apologetically, despairingly,
grievously... did air
pestilential, penitential, plenipotential... scare
re: distraction and understandable fear,
she might unwittingly plunge
into hopeless abysmal despair
falling prey into irrevocable
deathly hallows lair,
though kudos for her
from me, this sole Harris heir
to communicate, (albeit
hesitantly) into mine ear
suddenly wishing thy
Punim to be near,
but residing (about three hour drive
southeast of Portland, Oregon)
with my kid sister, attentive to welfare,
a sibling whose persona
doth show tender loving care
and concern, this papa
felt reassured there
would be every action taken
with sixth sense to beware
lest progeny exhibits
pointedly obvious lurching career
dramatic slide into behavioral sink
emergency measures sibling
immediately would commandeer,
hence somewhat relieved thee dear
beloved progeny receptive to hear,
this dada expressed his unconditional love,
and grateful psychological intervention offspring
boldly did declare
indicative professional help volunteer
really asserted necessary to stave off
how dice throw of fate unfair
to said lass, whose demise,
would abruptly kill this sonneteer!
...she was ensnared within her prized gardens
There among a tempest of roses.
Entangled in the mournful whispers
of…
Weeping willows
From noon till night.
Within her bustling haven,
the envy of neighbors.
A source of joy and delight.
But her constant aching heart
desired so much more.
Her poor lonely husband
Once he was robust and
brimming and strong
with vitality...
Now his soul has withered
in the desolation
of his ongoing prison of solitude.
Like a leafless tree...
stripped bare by winter's icy grip…
His heart was shattered.
For upon the porch's creaking rocker /
...his soul dwindling...
...its motion faltering...
Stops...
She suddenly grasped the vastness...
of her loss?
Such an ache colossal.
Crying out to God!!
her tears flowing like a raging
roaring river:
"Restore my free!!!"
A glimmering thought emerged in her
a forbidden whisper:
"Conjure a deal, the deal, with nature...
and it will be granted."
An Epiphany as a glimmering thought
emerged:
His thumb... a sharp knife...
a cursed gift...
a grower’s unholy art...
A malevolent pact with nature /
rending her life asunder.
Then new life stirred within the
shadow's cryptic realm //
From fresh tilled dirt and top soil ground //
A sinister transformation...
...a harbinger,
sprout of chilling qualms.
On All Hallows Eve /
stirred by the relentless creaking...
of...
the...
chair.....
She rushed and she stumbled
for she was caught
in despair's whirlwind.
Her heart pulsated
rhythmically in tune.
The moon...
a spectral lantern /
Drenching the desolate landscape /
in silver light...
Casting ominous and writhing shadows...
that echoed with...
The dread of Walpurgisnacht.
A nightmare,
a beautiful grotesque masterpiece:
His form, hideous contorted,
agrarian exhorted,
A thumb oozing... with /
red and green blood...
Nature itself warping and ravenous.
"My Groom," as she spoke to this agrarian figure.
Now Love is ensnared in a sinister compact...
never to relinquish its grip.
Her Fervent devotion /
embodied in the...
Mandrake Sprout's insidious clasp.
Slowly rocking, miraculously...
...a dichotomy,
back and forth as the moon departed...
Entwined for eternity...
Bound in a loving unholy pact.
Dressed in orange yellow green white
Walking the streets alone this night
Beam of light do you carry
Locating the zombie and the unbury
Shuffling along dragging their limb
A long haired creature looking quite grim
You flash your light and they did scurried
They seeing you made them less worried
Along you go but following behind
Turn you do quickly light brightly shined
A fanged toothed vampire ready to bite
Quickly discouraged from your shining light
Monsters ghoul's goblins around
Dimly lit houses with ominous sound
Boo! Is the screech form behind the big tree
Jump is the feet in numbers of three
Relax you're the adult don't be naive
Tonight is the night all Hallows eve
Tricks for candies treats for a chore
The better the trick the candies are more
Watch them wisely they many in number
Someone to guard them before their slumber
In your bright vest volunteer protector
Neighbourhood watch for Hallows collector