Long Haunting Poems

Long Haunting Poems. Below are the most popular long Haunting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Haunting poems by poem length and keyword.


Precariousness Imperilment

Why Hello, I am Danger
I am a stiletto in the shadows, ready to slit your throat
Should you gloat about laws I broke
I am precariousness in a dress
Peril, hazard, and risk, I'm menace sitting on a fence
I will take you places you've never been
I'll tell you lies and make you believe in sin again.

I will make you comfortable
And then you shall fall ill
A demons day in madness kissed - still
Danger is my poison, Danger is my pill
Taunting you, haunting you
Daring you to take that terrifying step
Take a chance, hold your breath
If no one's looking - spin the wheel - make the deal
Mistress Death will tell you - kill to win - heh he heh
You guessed it Dangerous.

Riskiness and distress are best friends - a hot mess
With endangerment, there is entanglement
Both factors are a possible part of the experience
Mordacity, depravity, and the unsavory
All of these odious and delicious - found in the essence of Danger
Dubious unrest, a fear fest test, a chaotic crest
A mischance of a tense whisper portrayed as a treasonous event
Hellbound or heaven-sent
Just remember - it's me Danger
And I am Dangerous
And you fearless - Your soul yearns for me....
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member John B Jackson 1880-1911

John B. Jackson
1880-1911

Norma knew.
Norma, my erstwhile friend of a thousand hunts;
Only she knew the feel of my beading thumb,
As we sought out promising locales, and
Our clever quarry, from points near and far.
From the salty marshes by the Pio Pico adobe,
To the broad summit of Sycamore Canyon,
We left tracks only the night ‘coons could find.
So, did we learn anything in life, me and Norma?

I once spied a tern furrowing in a breach.
Norma was ready and loaded for the kill,
As I drew a long bead,
Held my breath, and pulled the trigger.
She, my Winchester 1895, lever-action, 
Reduced that tern to feathers in an instant of smoke,
With white pillow plumage in complete upheaval,
Flying all about, and interspersed asunder!
That single memory was on my mind,
Before slipping eternally through the veil. 
I remember closing my eyes, and there she was!
Appearing before me as a haunting ghost, 
As she was, on the day she saw me kill the tern,
My disappointed mother, telling me I was cruel,
Cruel and heartless and mean, 
For destroying “God’s creature.”
So, it was on that same day I put Norma away, 
Lock, stock and barrel; stowed in silence,
Under the rafters of my humble bed;
I said a final goodbye and adios amiga,
To my once ballistic sweetheart, 
And the love of my wild, youthful days.
Never again did I kill any living creature,
And found an inner wisdom I could never explain.

But, truth be known,
I wish I had Norma now.
Here in this dark cold grave.
I miss the tender touch of her cold trigger.
The gentle pull of her icy hammer.
And mostly, I miss the intoxicating power, 
Of her fiery, exploding steel.
For together we traversed the canyons of Turnbull,
And the rolling vernal pastures of Workman Mill,
Tasting many a delicious quarry. 
It’s true, my friends,
Norma knew.
Only she knew the feel of my beading thumb.
Form: Epitaph

I Refuse

My dignity MUST remain intact 
while i conceal my lack of tact
i will still trust my instinct
to give up my “pleaser” stint

So in this particular instance
i CHOOSE to stay firm in my stance 
against all this negging going on 
Just give over with the egging on

I simply refuse to oblige 
Your offer to indulge 
in the tussle and rumble
inside a mud pen rife in grumble 

I'll have to turn down for now
I  just cannot afford, to allow
you, to nudge me into reacting.
From the way you keep on acting 

i can tell you are really itching 
to rip off all the stitching
where my heart was lacerated
the heat from your hatred 

Is rather daunting for me
your words to this day, haunting me
Yet I refuse to be deterred 
from my path, I won't be deferred 

I'm intent on being true to my nature 
i won’t hand you the aperture 
to have me for your scapegoat 
I won’t let you lay the base coat

to better showcase my unraveling 
Your actions are rather revealing.
they clearly show ill intention 
I refuse to give that any attention 

I'd sooner revel in my newfound peace  
build back my resilience by the piece 
Soon, i will find a home for my presence 
worthy of my energy and essence 

I CHOOSE to align with values, that reflect 
the importance of compassion and respect
Form:

Starting the Day

Usually it is twilight when I succumb to sleep. 

Waking up in some indeterminate realm. 

Sometimes favorable.

Other times, haunting and elusive. 

The space I am in is familiar. 

But there is also a feeling of hesitation. 

As if something is about to swoop down. 

Even though I am protected by the ceiling-

I still know there is danger above. 

A few minutes pass of me lying down, frozen. 

Until it starts feeling like my room again. 

And I am starting to become suspicious of the outside world. 

As if the birds chirping…

And the muffled voices…

Are fabrications. 

Suddenly, this room feels welcoming in comparison. 

I can close my eyes, and be both trapped and free. 

This room is like a coffin that is about to be buried forever. 

But the sunlight ruins the illusion. 

So starts the day.

Premium Member Ghost in the Night

I drift through the echoes, a phantom in chains,
invisible whispers, calling my name,
wreckage I carry, hidden so deep,
in shadows I wander, where no one can peep.
I’m just like a Specter, floating through pain,
the world sees me pass, but never the strain,
a heart made of glass, it shatters, it cries,
yet deep in the silence, the darkness complies.
I search for redemption, in shadows so tight,
as dreams and desires, slip into the night,
clawing at memories, that fade into dust,
but clinging to hope and fighting the rust.
Alone in the silence, whispers take flight,
they hiss and they taunt, in the dead of the night,
the battle is silent, the war is within,
a ghost in the stillness, playing with sin.

In the void I find comfort, a twisted delight,
the shadows embrace me, they cradle me tight,
but there lies a flicker, a flame so divine,
a hope in my heart, a haunting design.
I’ll dance with the phantoms, the echoes of night,
and claim my own power, from shadows in flight,
for ghosts can be free, if they search for the light,
I’ll rise from the dark; I’m up for the fight.
I don’t have to pretend, that I am a ghost,
I’ve buried desires, I’m invisible to most,
I’m walking through fire, but no one can see,
how the demons of doubt, keep haunting me.
A ghost in the night, yes, that's what they say,
but this Specter is ready, to find a new way,
I'll rise with the dawn, when sun comes around,
for in being a ghost, I am now found.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Late Walk

Taking a walk by the lovely lake
under the canopy of the sunlight
watching it’s effect on the water
makes one wish never ending night

With your loved one hand in hand
thinking only of one’s deep affection
wishing never to let go your grip
feeling assured this is pure connection

The nights atmosphere so haunting
making each one’s love to inspire
stillness is so totally enrapturing
a moment you never want to tire

Consider well this providential act
that brought us both to be as one
stand amazed this all happened
by a divine hand this has done

This is a wonder one has to behold
love fully pictured by this late walk
love so beautifully meant to share
memories that a kiss could not block
Form: Rhyme

What a Waste of a man

Another "I Do," Another Pledge**  
I found myself confronting mortality in the guise of the viper on the day my heart was irrevocably broken. Deep within, I understand that he liberated you, much like the Meadowlark’s song.  

Once again, I utter "I do" and make another pledge. The deceitful viper adorned himself in the same black suit. He donned the colors associated with malevolence during this second endeavor, for it is indicated that "strait is the gate and narrow is the way."  

His countenance radiates as he feigns a smile, resembling a contrived pose for the camera. I observed the specter of death in his expression, reminiscent of Pinocchio’s nose.  

The well-wishers murmured, "No discernment; what a disgrace, what a waste! A lamentable image of a man." The pastor solemnly proclaimed, "Amen."  

I perceived death upon the visage of the haunted individual. The fissures in the antiquated brick wall emitted a haunting melody: "You stand before the altar as yet another fool."  

Is this a wedding or a funeral—an evening fraught with foreboding? The middle-aged groom reflects a decline in love and kindness. Love, indeed, is blind.

Premium Member Space and Time

Entering the doorway through my heart
Following the nuance of space
Allowing expansion ~ mystery ~ and curiosity
To guide me into realms of spiritual awakening
Journeying through moments in time

Filled with opportunities
To appreciate and cherish
To express gratitude
To be connected to the forces
Of nature and humanity

Together we take flight
Guided by white hawks
Silently lifting off 
Into darkened skies
Kissed by gray hues

Alighting on silken clouds
Transporting us higher
A deep inhale as gentle breezes 
Tickle my earlobes and caress my soul

My heart is open ~ expanding ~ gaining insight
Exposed
My tears flow freely
I allow the pain and suffering to become me
As I focus on illumination and helping others
With embracing  arms and heart alive
Calling out to our elders and animal spirits
To join in our collective dance

The soft wind carries us
We float and fly and glide
Entering the realm of light
Sunbeams vibrating at the edges of perception

A fuzzy twinkling as our eyes excite
Riding magic cloud carpets
Above ocean’s breast
Gazing down 
The beauty becomes us
Gold light rays skate on undulating waves
Illuminating tide’s glimmering foam
A waltz of light and sound
Briny majesty

Luminous shafts dance and sway
In a lovers embrace
Across veridian waves
Passionately singing out
Becoming one

Our voices ~ melodies
Songs of our ancestors
Ballads from distant shores
Past and present 
Reveal themselves in
Tender haunting notes
Arriving on mist’s fingertips 

Hoovering close to Mother Ocean’s surface
We hear her heartbeat
Lap  lap  lap ... bubbles ... breath
Surface foam breaking 
She appears in nature’s coat of shiny black
A regal humpback
A tranquil Goddess welcoming us

We ride upon this graceful giant
As she whispers her secrets
Feeling her slow movement 
Through watery depths
Turning gently ~ moving up and down
We welcome her strength as 
Turquoise tides caress us

Guided by celestial navigation .... we ride
Gazing up at the sparkling stars
We listen to the collective heartbeat of eternity

One breath
One exhale 
Together

A Lonely Promise

Half of me promised to be chosen. 

So that I am willing to sacrifice my happiness to find happiness for others. 

By the voices that give me haunting premonitions. 

So that I am always creating and never enjoying. 

Half of me wants to be alone. 

Because I want to cherish the possibilities that have already happened. 

All of me has transcended, or so it seems. 

So that I have welcomed the unraveling of myself!

All the secrets of the future are raging in my nightmares. 

Even though I am in this cell-

Nothing will stop me from saving the world-

And the people who used to love me. 

I am already alone. 

Which in itself is restoring this world.

Premium Member Winter Storm

Flashes of lightning at dusk
in dark dank distant clouds
heralds the storm brewing.
So far, its too far away to
hear or feel the claps
of thunder rattle the
windows in their frames.
The storm engulfs the sky in spewed splodges
of dark ferment
as it draws ever onward on
the path towards you.
It embezzles your attention, sucks you in, as the flashes rear up,
like a wolf with white teeth snarling, getting ready to attack.
The storm is closer now flashing, banging, barging
its way to fill the sky with foreboding torment, anger and gloom.
Its overhead now, dropping its hail like cluster bombs, banging
on the roof, trying to shatter the windows.
The sky is filled with whip-cracks
and blinding flashes of light
as it builds to a cosmic kaleidoscopic crescendo.
The wind builds to a snarl,
blowing the storm away like a parent
scolding and grabbing at a naughty child.
The storm moves away with fading, spluttering flashes
and murmuring grunts of thunder.
Outside the eerie sunset scrubbed clean by the storm
is tinged bright with shudders of lightning light
and the haunting smell of rain emitted by the grass, 
splattered with hail, 
white, bright and melting.
Form: Imagism

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