Long Hellhole Poems
Long Hellhole Poems. Below are the most popular long Hellhole by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hellhole poems by poem length and keyword.
(No Hope)
The alone...
oppresses me.
She settles inside of
the life she has stole,
leaving the shell of me,
as cold as stone.
Oblivion so close
I can feel it's low groan.
For my sadness and sin
you now make me atone.
I can't bear the weight
of the cost of your toll.
It presses me down,
my body left prone.
I try and I try
to escape my hellhole,
but scream as I might
no one will come.
My courage betrays me
and I'm chilled to the bone.
I fear deep inside me
I can never go home,
like leaves on a breeze
my hope has now flown.
The alone...
surrounds me.
She beckons me,
emptying my soul.
Her darkness engulfs me,
everything gone.
The nothing inside of me,
but dark seeds you have sewn.
The sorrow so thick
I can't breath on my own.
I wade through the mud
of memories you control.
My heart has withdrawn,
lost in the unknown.
Deeper and deeper
drowning in this hole,
I scratch at this pit
till my fingers are numb.
My story but a book
of indifferent monotone.
No escape can I find
from this perilous tome,
as my spirit lies dying
beneath this tombstone.
12/18/15
My birth name is Suzie, some say I’m a floozy
But I can’t be choosey, that’s just how it is
I’ve slept with a teacher and even a preacher
And many a doctor got more than a kiss
Don’t show me derision, you won’t go to prison
Please share me your caring and I shall share mine
Just show me your fondness for blue eyes and blondness
Sir, smile at me kindly and I shall be thine
My mother ignores me, my father deplores me
I can’t comprehend why they ever had kids
They share mutual scorn in a marriage forlorn
I guess I was born, then their love hit the skids
Next week I’ll be sixteen, that’s fifteen years unseen
Did they even once see me as heaven sent
I cook and I clean, they just watch that old screen
They don’t give a damn how I get them their rent
Just want to be flattered, don’t want to be battered
Just want to be noticed through eyes that are fond
On my bedside table, your cash will enable
me to torch this hellhole and then to abscond
So, please don't find mirth in my limited worth
All I have to offer is all that I am
Don’t think me obscene for you could have been
Stood in my shoes were you born to my pram
The red sun cuts the gray sky like a dull knife
Morning, after fighting a long fireless night
We need to get to the Hole in the Wall
The Big Horn Mountains are cold in moonlight
We robbed a bank a couple days ago
A small dusty town in Johnson County
Traveled in circles for hours on end
Trying to elude the posse, looking for bounty
Now at the edge of a long narrow canyon
That leads to the Hole where we can hide
Dust in the distance is moving towards us
Time to saddle up, begin to ride
We have one cause, to escape the law
Many a time we've been shot and bled
Rustling cattle and robbing banks our call
If we're caught, we'll be hung or shot dead
Tonight we'll find safety in the hidden cabin
We'll rest with the money we just stole
Drink some whiskey and play some cards
Living life as an outlaw in this rocky hellhole
He sat in the darkness, the room full of light,
And though it was midday, it felt like midnight.
The t.v. was on, the news kept on streaming,
A nightmare in blossom, he felt his mind screaming.
Inflation! A Virus! Wars! Nowhere to hide!
He opened the Good Book and opened it wide.
Feeling hopeless and lost in the news of the day,
Lost hope in the world, not losing his way.
. He now sought the wisdom, of Father so wise,
His heart turned from fear, and the father of lies.
"Surely" he mused "He Who parted the sea,
And provided the manna; can take care of me.
Jesus, please help me" Was all that he said.
He looked to the hope in the Word as he read.
For dread is a hellhole that leads down a spire,
And the whispering darkness of fear is a liar.
The hope that is found in the Truth and the Light
Will usher us onward though day become night.
The world is passing, and life fades away,
But God is as near as the words that we pray.
Written January 20, 2023
For the Fear Is Liar Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Sotto Poet
Poems about Poets V
Edna St. Vincent Millay Has Her Way with a Vassar Professor
by Michael R. Burch
After a night of hard drinking and spreading her legs,
Millay hits the dorm, where the Vassar don begs:
“Please act more chastely, more discretely, more seemly!”
(His name, let’s assume, was, er ... Percival Queemly.)
“Expel me! Expel me!”—She flashes her eyes.
“Oh! Please! No! I couldn’t! That wouldn’t be wise,
for a great banished Shelley would tarnish my name ...
Eek! My game will be lame if I can’t milque your fame!”
“Continue to live here—carouse as you please!”
the beleaguered don sighs as he sags to his knees.
Millay grinds her crotch half an inch from his nose:
“I can live in your hellhole, strange man, I suppose ...
but the price is your firstborn, whom I’ll sacrifice to Moloch.”
(Which explains what became of pale Percy’s son, Enoch.)
Downdraft
by Michael R. Burch
for Dylan Thomas
We feel rather than understand what he meant
as he reveals a shattered firmament
which before him never existed.
Here, there are no images gnarled and twisted
out of too many words,
but only flocks of white birds
wheeling and flying.
Here, as Time spins, reeling and dying,
the voice of a last gull
or perhaps some spirit no longer whole,
echoes its lonely madrigal
and we feel its strange pull
on the astonished soul.
O My Prodigal!
The vents of the sky, ripped asunder,
echo this wild, primal thunder—
now dying into undulations of vanishing wings . . .
and this voice which in haggard bleak rapture still somehow downward sings.
Why the Kid Gloves Came Off
by Michael R. Burch
for Lemuel Ibbotson
It's hard to be a man of taste
in such a waste:
hence the lambaste.
Keywords/Tags: poet, poets, poetry, poems, write, writing, muse, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Dylan Thomas, drink, drinking
While as a sparkling carefree brook of gay youth
she meandered on the plateau of valiant yearning,
the precipice of destiny dragged her down
into the ambiguous abyss of no return.
Sucked by the vortex of wanton whirlpool,
she sank in the hellhole of corrupt lust.
With flesh bargained in the marketplace of perversion,
she morphed into an object of lewd attraction.
Perceiving the aberrant life absolutely undone,
and the unfeeling inert soul utterly defiled,
she compromised with her crumpled conscience,
for her usurped body was no longer hers.
When the sleazy alley winding in the mist of infamy
became dark after the red lights were turned off,
she turned into a self-seeking stalker wolf,
waiting for the full moon to rise for her early.
February 22, 2021
Contest : They Closed The Brothel
Sponsor : Kai Michael Neumann
CHIMERA
(verse 1)
I’m scared to go to sleep,
so, I fight to stay awake.
But, I know the sandman will eventually win,
and my eyes will become heavy like a zeppelin.
Until that time comes around,
I’ll play him for the fool.
I can’t explain why I’m terrified,
the words aren’t taught in school.
(chorus)
I’m trapped in a scream dream,
and serenity is coming up fast.
Things aren’t quite what they seem,
and the calm won’t last.
Now, I”m floating on a lake,
with the eternal crystal snake.
(verse 2)
My skin turns as white as coke,
and my blood scorches my veins.
The walls are closing in all around me,
and the snowflakes burn through to my soul.
There’s an exit somewhere, but, I can’t see,
how do I get out of this hellhole?
Will you help me find my way,
or, have you already closed the doorway?
(chorus)
I’m trapped in a scream dream,
and serenity is coming up fast.
Things aren’t quite what they seem,
and the calm won’t last.
Now, I”m floating on a lake,
with the eternal crystal snake.
(verse 3)
I put my feet on the cold tile,
a floor that’s as old as the dead.
I pass out and choke,
you think it’s a joke.
I’m gambling for my life, against the grim reaper,
but, I’ve got the aces up my sleeves.
Now, I’m walking in the valley,
between the living and the dead.
(chorus)
I’m trapped in a scream dream,
and serenity is coming up fast.
Things aren’t quite what they seem,
and the calm won’t last.
Now, I’m floating on a lake,
with the eternal crystal snake.
CHIMERA
9-22-95
Lyricist Inc.
David A. Porter
For Silent One's - Mamma Poetry Contest
Where is the love, Mamma?
Through broken Louvre blinds, you're ever watching
Rosary beads clicking prayers on repeat mode, uttering
Your plethora of Faith keeps me steadily striving
Though, frustrated when peace will be arriving.
Under cover of the midnight moon, hookers seducing
Shady men with illicit wares aggressively peddling
Of changing our situation, I'm forever idealizing.
Enduring every day's trauma, just surviving.
Seeking direction from above, when is enough enough?
Tell me, Mamma ~ Where is the love?
Collective immorality still existing.
A ticking clock morality meekly resisting
Corruption, greed, and deceit still abounding
This life where goodness seems to be drowning.
A depraved degradation of insanity still insisting,
Death, broken hearts, crime persisting
In the chaos, qualms never ceasing.
lawlessness above the muck and mire rising
At the kerbside, a holy man piously preaching
Should I turn my cheek, still beseeching
Amidst their plundering and their leeching?
NO !!
Enough is Enough ~ Where is the Love?
Beyond-repair abhorrence, I'm escaping.
Fervently, I'm hoping and praying.
Please God, Mamma, be safe while I'm gone
I'll be back for you before long
In the eerie darkness, emotions imploding
Sirens blaring, with the sound of guns exploding
My shallow breath quickening, turning back with throat thickening
All the while, I'm screaming
Where is the love?
Back through this hellhole, I'm rapidly racing
All through the panic, still hoping and praying
Please God, Mamma ~ Be Safe, Be Safe, Be Safe
Neon blue-red lights flickering and flashing.
Through my open front door, I'm madly dashing.
Looming through the haze, I hear them saying.
'Sorry, Miss, yet another random shooting
Your Mamma just got caught in the cross-firing.'
The last thing I hear is my own voice crying.
MAMMA ~ THERE IS NO LOVE! THERE IS NO LOVE!
Emirati Glitterati…sold their soul
All for an arty farty party so dull
Each troll got a very simple goal
Going for gold their Faustian role
Befriend astro knoll on pretend atoll
Look at me vanity but never a lull
Narcissist fantasy look like a doll
Maybe botox detox don't annul
Tax free captivity in goldfish bowl
Not like before well war takes its toll
Rakes get the shakes out of control
Save me plea on every single scroll
Fakes & flakes on the make must cull
Hard not to laugh at whole rigmarole
Tragic they chose their Arabic hellhole
Goodbye to Dubai magic back to Hull
Mull over becoming a prole on the dole
If there was a poll would say Tres Drole
Or on insular influencer peninsula "LOL"
Me father was a collier, worked Harton off the coast
Though he rattled from the coal dust he was whiter than a ghost
But the one thing that reviled him in his God-forsaken post
Was the torment of the pit ponies who he'd love and trust the most.
Shetlands worked the low seams, Gallers the big pit
And they toiled in dust and danger in the darkness and the grit
Blinkered up between the limbers, heaving coal, tubs full of it
Were the brave young beasts of burden, all a-frothing at the bit.
And Blackie was a strong 'un, he'd been down since '34
But he earned the lads good bonus so they worked him more and more
Till the weight buckled his legs and he stumbled to the floor
And he just laid there a-panting, all a-choking in his craw.
Ah me Da would bring them sugar and share with them his bait,
Now his mind was torn with fury and his heart was filled with hate
So raging black with anger he made the butchers wait
And he vowed he'd take the pony back up with him in the crate
Then Da's no longer digging, they locked him up you see,
For misappropriating mineowners property,
But you cannot cage a conscience, he'd set the brave one free,
From the bittered, blackened hellhole that had been his slavery..
Now Blackie's in the meadow with horses by his side
When the miners bring their children down he takes them for a ride
And he passes by the pithead and the place he nearly died
And he brays a silent prayer for the others still inside
For the broken, bloodied ponies and the tears yet to be cried
There's torment in them ponies down the mine, Hear me well, lad
There's torment in them ponies down the mine, Hear me well, lad
There's torment in them ponies down the mine.
HEAR ME SING THIS IN CONCERT ON YOUTUBE: 'Louis Spence.Ballard of Blackie'
THANK YOU.