Long Halting Poems
Long Halting Poems. Below are the most popular long Halting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Halting poems by poem length and keyword.
Cornwall Security employee has in daylight today exited work vehicle in thousand oaks to initiate false name using another's forcibly removing public utility access from the army corps of engineers in the United States of America. Per declaration
Removing free speech
Time now is 9:59a.m
Interested parties up to the AFL-CIO and all account holders in California have previously been named defendents
Order of city draw from account concludes upon registration entries of harbor house desk pantry fool reception.
As to whom is eating
Typically "fasting" days, rights and laws devolve internment districting rather astutely in history.
That one has as currency and is currently undergoing the burden of halting on side notes for another's labor in a daylights gaining momentum.
Conjectures reposing argument precludes
The hollow sounds of fog return this time of year.
Loud echoes of potato chip crunching tires on frozen snow.
Disappearing into the city night as stars emerge from hiding
in a black-blanketed sky. We move toward the cusp of country,
body twitching with remembrances of anticipation.
That first dark nighttime sky away from city lights,
glimpsing the Milky Way Orchestra tuning
its sound to the touch of our senses. Oh yes, there is a tingle
in the air. The first tiny ting of triangle leading to such a
crescendo of silence so loud you cannot hear with common ear.
You hear it with your soul. You may see a frozen deer along
the tree line staring or a fox half-halting with its searching ears;
miniature gramophones scooping giant swathes of air for sound
and hearing none. It is a silent swift of fog between the moon and earth
that lends its leverage to the Universe. One verse for us all tonight.
I am the birth of
an unholy emancipation,
watching dusk settle
upon forbidden shores,
unfolding sinister shadows,
while ravens gather
as harbingers of my arrival.
Tonight I am the seductress,
tempting temptress
of maroon twilight,
a midnight mistress,
scripting stygian sagas,
with ancient runic symbols,
consumed by the
fear they call Lilith.
Once blessed with
purity of lotus light,
I am now sensual suicide,
as darkness bleeds
through my sparkling spirit
into a rustic realm
of demonic drumrolls.
I see through the
ghastly gates of
my perpetrator’s hellish eyes.
I ponder: how can
an angelic silhouette,
a man who walks in
divine rhythm,
be the infernal epitome
of sadistic scriptures?
He's devoted to the
carnal cravings
piercingly echoing
through my heretic heart,
I’ll find his magical melody,
in sensual strokes,
as I stroke his soul
in sheer ecstasy,
engulfed in sinful symphonies.
My bite will plunge like a
bloodstained blade,
as I engrave my
footprints upon his heart,
to seduce his last breath,
but what if he is immune
to my ways, so I panic,
knowing I could become
his sacrificial succubus,
as his poetic trickeries
draw my demonic
nature into a deathless
dawning of decaying roots.
Thus, taming the
beast of gothic blackness
and halting this perpetual
destruction of my mind.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ hoard of treasure ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ against the door,
Full of ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ lifetime's garnered store -
¦¦¦ pleasures crowned with ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ zest,
¦¦¦ sorrow ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ penance blest,
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ remembrance ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ of yore
¦¦¦¦¦ like a new evangel, ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ halting ¦¦¦¦ toward the best.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ barren after years
¦¦¦ bring ¦¦¦ joy or sorrow, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ knowing not, who cares? ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ we ¦¦¦¦¦ find ¦¦¦ pleasures and ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ remembered childhood ¦¦¦¦ thro' tears,
The best ¦¦¦ Heaven and ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ Hell.
(Blackout of Sonnet III by William Shakespeare)
He was once a well-built youth wielding young power
That waned little by little with every advancing hour,
Those days his upheld gait scared both man and beast,
Very stout and with less manly things contented least.
Sweet adorable girls cooed coyly under his juvenile charm
And the irresistible lover would brandish his wicked smarm
That got the whole village sick with his rare masculine clout,
His unequaled skill and unrivaled sway were never in doubt.
But now grey hair and a curved back and neck are all that’s left
Of our once-upon-a-time macho man unforgiving and so deft.
I saw him childishly chew on his pink lollipop down the road
Grinning and halting rather often to pick some rusty metallic rod.
Agga Aggrey was a male of superior standing in his day
But he forgot that both strength and youth soon decay…
I never would have thought it even remotely possible,
Yet it now seems quite plausible,
To make a case that is indisputable,
There are more pigeonholes than pigeons,
And it is all the fault of humans,
With no blame attributed to the pigeons.
It all started with the invention of labels,
And when the pigeons wouldn't budge from their holes,
Replica's were made to keep up with the supply of labels.
At first things ran smoothly,
As governments moved slowly,
With new labels placed in the gazette only twice yearly.
One would have thought the citizens would be glad,
Instead they became sad,
As a pigeonhole of their very own had to be had.
So now there are more pigeon holes than pigeons,
Though a shortage of labels is halting the need for even more pigeon holes,
As some citizen's feel they deserve the right to several labels.
5/16/22
Here let me paint you a drawing
My skin crawling
Something stirring and calling
As the leaves begin falling
It's appalling
That people are always squabbling
And gossiping
Yet another mauling
It's no longer enthralling
The temperature of the water freezing or scalding
People aging, greying and balding
This process has no halting
Most spills their guts like a geyser
Life's a , but I like her
With every fiber
Many think they're the , but they need a diaper
I got the job done with or without a screwdriver
Close and far from barbwire
While occasionally sipping hard cider
Or Budweiser
I'm no liar
Or one to preach to the choir
Nearby a campfire
And 4 car tires
I stood with a Rottweiler
Feeling lazy or hyper
Harmless like a Sandpiper
Damgerous like a Pit Viper
Harmless like all these ass wipers
Dangerous like a sniper
Harmless like a Striper
Dangerous like a Tiger
Harmless like the town crier
Dangerous like a Black Widow or Red-Back spider
Harmless like always being nicer
Dangerous like the edge of a pizza slicer
It's time for the next shock
Most thought they could fix it with a pep talk
Meanwhile close by flew a red hawk
Before I decided to jet off
Dealt with pests lots, put them in a headlock
Then they came to a dead stop
Nearby the bedrock
It's revolting
Far too much overindulging
And information withholding
Dangerous like exposure to molding
In all directions it's pulling
I'm still mulling
Meanwhile they continue at lulling
So that they are the ones controlling
In pitch blackness
Full of sadness
Reaching a state of madness
The pattern becoming erratic
It's nearly always tragic
With endless havoc
I almost had it
And went bat
But I partook in Black Magic
In a basement as well as an attic
In the end the outcome was anti-climactic
(This atheist imagining, envisioning,
and adopting a religious stance
asper extra-marital prance
sing unsheathing ma lil lance.)
if wand whoosh,
a mollified Genie could wave
abracadabra spellbinding mine fate, aye
would rejoice beholding,
an African Queen to stave
more precious then
fine spun gold (for Josephine) to buy
time against tortured Golgotha kepi
mein kempf wracking fate, thence pave
ving a stairway to heaven
after this ivory pawn doth die
cleansing, exorcising, and flushing
infidelity kindling lover misbehave
yore (ah Jove) many
full lush blue moons ago,
when verboten fruit
yours truly didst deaf fie
temptation no amount
renouncing sin spent kneeling, this knave
scrutinizing engravure etched with blessed
"Jesus, bare naked Amazon Mary
and Joseph" motif guy
interweaved by pointed
finger of Goddess Sheba almighty
beckoned deft fiat halting joist
lowered nondescript plain rigid casket
swallowed by grave
temporally ushered whirled wide
webbed rebirth where I
received life anew breathless composure
dousing errant fellow
guilt honestly iterated, jackanapes
kneaded licentious maligned narcissistic
opprobrious philandering questing re: deprave
transgressions, whereat this gentile Jew did lie
unclothed satisfying prurient crave
ving vitiating marital covenant, now my
soul asylum anointed, via sedulous, glorious,
and fabulous Nubian enchantress deign nigh
ying celibacy decreeing
expurgating sexual crave
ving, hence thy status as Zen eternal
Eunuch (corny punster)
as acceptable punishment bequeathed
by said deliquescent, iridescent,
and opalescent dreamt up
"FAKE" pitch black Negroid hallucination
from over active imagination
me didst truly ply.
“Even after our corporeal form leaves, a letter speaks to us in a language so intimate, conveying pent up emotions so personalized that one cannot express through spoken words without causing embarrassment to the one thus divulging” ~ By Poet
It was like a cunning marauder,
That cancer sneaked into his healthy body.
After the initial shock, John got over it.
Then ensued a brave fight to restrict its advance.
But it ravaged his body inch by inch.
Stage four cancer took residency in his bones.
After thirteen months of incessant struggle
His invincible life came to a peaceful halt!
At the end of his funeral rites, his best friend
Showed himself up before the congregation.
In halting voice, he said he was on a task,
To read out a letter John had prepared.
Long before his death but had kept sealed until then.
Opening an envelope, with wavering hands
Like an envoy divinely ordained on a sacred mission
He took out the carefully folded sheets of paper.
The subdued murmur inside the spacious hall
Gave way to silent breathless anticipation.
'My dearest family and friends' the words ran,
'Long at last, I am at peace, absolutely at peace,
With no emails to check, no bills to pay,
No more deadlines to be worried over!
But unfortunately, no charming females in sight''
The words breathed his flamboyant humour,
With his trademark grace and copious dignity.
He led the audience through his life under death sentence.
He was thankful for the love and concern,
His friends and family had so profusely lavished on,
In his ailing days of agony and dejection.
That exceeded far more than what an ordinary man,
In the whole of his lifetime could accumulate!
The last part was a pronouncement of love,
On his beloved wife and his wonderful child,
Who stood by him in silent suffering by proxy,
With a plea to all to keep peace with one's soul.
Despite life's sham, drudgery, and shattered dreams!
The congregation silently dispersed, walking away,
Into a day of sunshine, greatly consoled and inspired!
Still stands the night,
an immovable mountain.
A light snowfall of moonlight
on its exposed terrain.
An isolated star shimmers and shakes
its avalanche of brilliance,
outshining myriads of lesser snowflakes
that adorn the night’s somnolence.
In the lee of this mountain,
amongst taupe shadows deep,
three riders their clutches tauten
halting their steely steeds, while other men sleep.
Their chill- wizened faces
look up to the sky
whilst blind night embraces
the three Magi.
Through centuries they’ve travelled
like astronauts through space
though men still hadn’t unravelled
the first mystery that had taken place
on the outskirts of this beleaguered city.
They gaze at the star questioning:
was man ready for the immensity
of the Second Coming?
The frosty light of the star
then started to melt and wane.
It was too soon for the avatar,
the world was still profane.
They re- revved their machines
and set off into orbit exquisite.
Astronomers observing the dying sheen
said t’was a star of hope that surely would revisit.