Long Horrifically Poems

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


New Grounds To Shrink a Kiss

I could feel the rhythm of my obscure 
thoughts in sync
sturdy scrutiny, into the mirror
I glimpse deeply in the 
reflection of the nymph
somehow I outwit the quixotic 
hold of the sylph,
frightened to my demise, 
tons of strength fills my belly,
blinking lights, driving under the influence of my mind

You!
you ruined everything,
I'm not in the position to connect
or link to you no more,
no! I'd never use me this woefully 
i’d never use me this poppy
but you did!
you Did!!
you stopped before we even proceeded

You were my everything,
my everything!
still you mortified me horrifically 
you neglected our tryst,
don’t! 
don’t try convincing me to feel better,
you built my moments yours
left me in the cold

I remember every lie you notified me with,
crushed my hopes with thunderstorm,
pushed my stoicism without no thinking, 
rejected my Lips and kiss like cancer,
I curse the day I thought forever,
you moved me into inferno,
let me inquire one more time

Do you ever think of me?
shhh! shhh! lies! lies!!
I stridently oppose those professed fibs 
they seem untrue
wait! my confusion is your continuous lifestyle 
in untruthfulness  

You split my bosom in seconds
left me in 2
I detest you!
I detest how you lived without me
I hooked you when you cut down

I smiled when they jested
held you by the kneels, put you right back on edge
still, you picked the nerve to pull out on me
you quit on me?

Exploiting yet preying on me?
how do you feel?
no! do not dodge

Respond to me, how do you feel now?
did you think you could live without me?

Ugh, this sunrise encounter is terrible 
with you here

i’m Completely 

Buggered Now, You Should Forget Me.
Zip It.
Form: Other


Premium Member Women and Their Weight

No more dieting women!
Clothes for adipose only, made for wearing
and swimming.
Watch the shopping channels, do they hire
by the most pounds?
Thin models must retire, adipose only?
And must be totally round?

I remember being twenty-one. American Airlines 
considered me  a blimp?
Come now, at 125 pounds, I really was a shrimp!
I still am 125 to this very day

It was not Chic to be adipose, like it is today.
I watch them stretching jeans on TV, they support 
hugeness by words like "fully expandable" or....
"so comfortable!"

They think not of women's health at all.
I find it horrifically sad, it's only money they support.
My Dad joked about women's clothes fifty years ago.
The days when there were limited sizes.
Not x, xx, xxxx ad infinitum.

We women, tremble at the sight of a gun....Yet....,
Do forgot, by being overweight, we pull the finger and 
end our own life's rigor.




                           11-19-2020






                    11-19-2020

Premium Member Angelus's Reign Ends

The bloodthirsty reign of Angelus had ended, or so the story has been told,
that after feasting upon and killing the beloved daughter of a gypsy family,
the gypsy shaman cursed Angelus with a soul.
Damned to immortally walk the earth, never to know or pursue happiness,
for if a moment of joy were to be experienced, 
it would release the hold of the curse.
His evil darkness would once again return. 
His soul once again would be lost.
The power of Angelus's soul and conscience
would avoid this at any cost.
Blood, his only sustenance can no longer be attained from taking human life.
Surrounded by so many a human temptation 
is the eternal challenge of Angelus's immortal cursed life.
He now must feed on the blood of vermin, chickens, cattle and swine.
never to know or experience true happiness 
or evil Angelus will return big time.
*
"What's happening to me? Something's horrifically wrong.
Why do I have this overwhelming sense of fear that I no longer belong?
What is this crippling feeling that seems to surround me? 
Is this what is known as being afraid?
I am Angelus. Things like fear are alien to me.
Just ask any,...just ask any of the many,...just ask,
all the helpless victims I so mercilessly slain.
Sometimes they wouldn't scream. They were too petrified,
but children, children always screamed.
My God, the poor frightened children would always cry before they died.
Why do I now see and feel all the terror I instilled
on all these faces who now haunt me. 
My God, all these faces of all these people I killed.
You'd think that with my many centuries past,..
...the past which boasts of all the horrible things I have done.
You'd think that with all I have butchered, killed and maimed 
that I wouldn't be able to remember every single last one.
My God, what is happening? Where have I been?
Why was I this monster so consumed with the total embracing of sin?"
He hovered in the corner alone, frightened and cold.
All of his past horrors committed continued to unfold.
The vampire all vampires feared was no more.
He was now cursed with a soul 
and the power of conscience is a power that evil can never endure.
The bloodthirsty reign of Angelus had ended, 
but there's still more story of this vampire to be told.
Such as his quest for redemption by protecting the helpless,
as Angel, The Vampire with a Soul.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Truth Be Known


The persecution twenty-six years long
Practitioners of Falun Dafa horrifically wronged
The China's regime, still no remorse
The face of retribution comes all in due course

The evil epidemic emerged from Wuhan
Rapidly, relentless, traversed the land
Over the seas and around the earth
The ccp virus was a karmic birth

Awaken people to the truth that's spread
Communism is a poisonous dread
It binds humanity into darkness and despair
Break the ties from the evils’ lair

Embrace the goodness of the Divine
The Creators’ Law, for all to find
Reflect deeply within your soul
Your true self will let you know

Truth, compassion and tolerance is good
The Greatness of Falun Dafa will be understood
Form: Rhyme

Ugh, Why Must the Missus Vacuum At the Crack of Dawn

Ugh, Why Must The Missus Vacuum At The Crack Of Dawn?
(circa: early December 27, 2018 morning)

There appears to be a
virulent (possibly deadly) strain
of housekeeping virus
Hoover ring in the air
asymptomatic tentatively linked to rein
deer droppings (micro-organisms) blare

ring and trumpeting beyond
the threshold to humans, though plain
lee send audible wavelengths
to symbiotic species clear
as a bell, which organisms don
nano size MAGA hats, and main

lee set up shop in carpet threads,
and chiefly thrive on deer
pellets, where one bee bee
gun size bullet serves long lane
of critters unseen can easily
make headway into ear,

eyes, nose, et cetera other
orifices, and Kane
inject unsuspecting vacuum sealed
byproduct to forswear
unsightly piles of dirt, debris,
dust bunnies, which Jain

Dharma would find
appalling horrifically glare
ring at desecrating supposed germ
carrying pests calling utterly inane,
the constant effort
to keep house beautiful heir

ruled ding disinfectant resistant,
whether mite tee Germaine,
or itty bitty teensy weensy siblings
many named Oh Fair
Roe One Wade for me, nonetheless seek
out porous fleshy terrain

allowing, enabling and providing
pinhead size portal
i.e. vector to engineer
transmitting a fast
acting alien entity
without any explain

nation, an immediate urge to spruce up
the place applying interlinear
trigonometry (of course adhering to
Feng Shui when rearranging), without drain
ning, lessening, zapping, 

et cetera, but meer
really loose sing a whirling dervish
(mini tornado) fiercely
finding the spouse on feverish spree
to clean entire apartment chain!


Into the Maelstrom

(hub bur rigid version.)

All la names bespeaking deity froom
     Noah Mo' Room India Arc
     of Covenant to Blood
     (sweat and tears) of
     San Gennaro devout wowed,
and/or Turin shroud
consonantly demonstrably, 
     desperately, faintly, glumly

     yet plaintively, muttered aloud,
no evading the steadily avowed
Atheist approaching funnel
     (dum mental) stormy cloud,
cuz far as the eye could see -
     at least by this Beatle browed
     bipedal hominid (north, south,
     east, and west),

     the conical, demoniacal,
     and elliptical endowed
sky high reversed cone, bow wowed
wailing 10,000 maniacs +
     same number of banshees
     wove weft and white
     across wide whirled web
     whereat, the black vortex

     vacuumed everything 
     in sight (chowed
down) with loud violent row
dee earsplitting sound everything
     within a vast path got plowed
obliterated, and annihilated proud
lee into bajillion smithereens,
     hence mine entire being

     held spellbindingly agog
frozen in place ruff akin
     to well trained dog
without a chance to bark a blog
mired stock still courtesy, sans
     extreme fear comp
     pounded (zero apr) via
     quintessential supreme tear

     roar immovable paralysis
     plus helpless as pollywog
lacking seizure of critical
     whatsapp cerebral cog
as if blinded by a mental fog,
cuz nothing withstood
     the incalculable suction
     emitting barrage of sounds -

     hmm...methinks or imagined,
     I heard cry of a hog
amidst the pandemonium,
     plus uproarious, ominous,
     and insidious howl,
though still some 
     scant miles removed, 
the deafening roar

     felt like top of my head
     blasted unable to jog
free (like a bajillion trained
     thundering monsters at log
er heads) these screaming
     quasi nemesis seemingly
     horrifically, and directly
     into my tender ears.

Let *****Sapiens Envision Eco Friendly Infrastructure

Radical planet friendly measures
equals earning kudos as unsung hero
(think environmental/carbon footprint)
nearly absolute zero
while global population quarantine
suspension of civil rights
would never fly with trumpeting pharaoh.

Since United States economically crippled
(as well rest of world wide web)
courtesy coronavirus fallout rippled
analogous, whereby Mother Earth
(Gaia's) motley crew psyches stippled.

Golden nugget opportunity whence
twenty first century man/womankind
can make figurative about face
humanity undergoes tense
fossil fuel powered civilization

intricate tapestry doth unwind
(COVID-19) wreaking havoc
among flu fighting village people
constituting human race
shifting radical paradigm

toward renewable resources
alas me dogmatic karma credit
thinks green new deal 
(Paine fully) common sense
to any doubting Thomas

since global governments
currently flattened, gutted,
hobbled, immobilized, jackknifed
martial law restricts 
impugns verity capitalistic

(re: cannibalistic planetary exploitation)
acquiescing higglety pigglety
free for all
(Alfred E. Neuman wannabes) madcap
(spy versus spy chase

explicit green lighting
global (fiery red) desecration rents
linkedin multitude innocent
flora and fauna violently asunder
ethos predicated upon

vandalistic, monopolistic, capitalistic...
manifest destiny codas enshrined
no matter indigenous tribes genocide
horrifically did erase
place names benign injustice

underestimates true value
native peoples legacy
impossible mission feebly
conjuring bloody events
sacred treaties scotched, revoked, quashed...

accentuating death sentence signed
obliterating rightful heirs amazing grace
storied proud nations traduced
as agents provocateur
cruelly prodded to adopt 

offense and/or defense
inevitably pushed off their sacred lands
today their abysmal existential nihilistic crisis
crushing, damning, punishing... poverty
testament how third eye blind
turned away s as to avoid witnessing
tears for fears etching staind face.

Premium Member Hyper-Caloric

Though what we know
and that which we feel
goes into what we write

I believe
poets are more inclined toward

image-periphery

the alchemy of lyric-formation

what is just around the corner
horrifically vague

standing on the lip-edge

toes dangling over

peering bravely into a
primal abyss 

------------------------------

each new declaration a journey

backward, compressing coldly
into dank catacombs of past 
drafting explorers

forward, confronting bard echoes
the maps of our ancient priests
left for the daring

the literary awakened

new skies revealed

sustain alternating and renewed

every night a fresh splattering of light

every dawn
a bounty-warmth of slippery
sunny icing 

such decadence our breakfast
lunch and supper
no dessert denied

the rich slices we pen

the hyper-caloric that
drives us to the brink 

daring us to step off

both angels and demons
awaiting their catches

lift must be in our favor --

-------------------------

Let the work begin!

Premium Member It's Just That Sort of Thing. However?

It doesn't always work all of the time.
I can't recall a day in my 2 weeks here
that I've successfully managed to suspend my decline.
I go to work in my usual way,
I stare down to the ground as I make my way,
but more times than none someone will call out and say,
"Hi Kidster! How Ya Doing? Ready for another work day?"
I then have no choice but to look up from the ground
and acknowledge a response to that kind person's sound.
However, as I look up to do so, I make eye contact
with an individual who lost a loved one on the 9/11 attack.
It's in their body language. I can spot them from the corner of my eye.
They're fitting in with the crowd despite the held back tears in their eyes.
I'm Honored To Be Working On Their Sacred Ground.
I'm Honored To Be a small kog in the work force that will build a monument so sound
where all they who lost loved ones so horrifically profound
can all visit and pay their respects upon this Sacred Ground.
It's a labor of love/hate job that I endure everyday.
It's more a sense of duty than a job when I begin my work day.
The labor is brutal, more brutal than you might be able to imagine,
but the labor is a small sacrifice to pay to give these bereaved mourners some Salvation
from the sorrow of lost loved ones who so unfairly, innocently and unexpectedly,
had Their Lives So Horribly Taken.
Form: Rhyme

You Look Mad When You Tell of the Mad

Trying to express horrifically unsavoury and odious acts of heinousness, 
such unspeakable repugnant opprobrium packed with horrendousness 
is a test stacked with specific unfavourable hopeless stress, 
seen a crying fuzz of the weakened redundant mental mess.

You will find, 
when telling of the mad, 
you're unkind, 
and seemingly bad. 

People will treat you insanely s*it,
but insanity is you when you tell of it, 

in short: if the stories are mad
and the people in them are mad
but nobody knows they are mad
when telling others you look mad




*because sometimes the simple words 
better the poetry 
with regards to simple minded herds, 
that's what life is showing me
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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