Long Hostile Poems
Long Hostile Poems. Below are the most popular long Hostile by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hostile poems by poem length and keyword.
I turned to my wife
With desire in my eyes
And my loins a little disjointed
Forestalling sin,
She asked with no grin,
¨Kind sir, do you have an appointment?¨
You'll need to make an appointment
If you wanna have a shot at love
I was having a chat
With a sweet bureaucrat
Whose curves nature had appointed
The moment seemed right
When up came the red light
And a billboard reading, ¨Make your appointment¨
In the future, you'll need an appointment
For love, for kindness, for care
Some justice of the peace
Will preside your release
Or decide on your fate of despair
In time we'll be damned
To a hostile land
Ruled by gods we ourselves anointed
Hey, you get what you give
So don't ---- where you live --
Or at least not without an appointment.
Helplessness seeks help in despondency
When resources slip out of porous hands
A tacit realization of innate inadequacy
Devours the dregs of impaired self-esteem.
The feeling sinks in the pool of pale psyche
Averse however to breathe the air of truth
Lies there unfelt in suspended animation
A state assiduously unaccepted by the mind.
The hostile wrecking winds are thwarted
By the helping hands morphing into shield
The needs are quenched like the arid thirst
By the cloud burst of benign magnanimity.
Time turns to flow in the course so desired
The legs that couldn’t walk a foot forward
If and whenever the hands are left unheld
Become boat sailing smooth in waveless sea.
Tides of time inundate the changed ethics
Latent self-respect floats on flood of sense
The bruised mind gets busy digging channel
For the repulsive memory to flow to oblivion.
The meagerness that created helplessness
Turns to debased maze of inferiority complex
A psychic makeover wangled by innate reflex
Produces odium and derision for the helper.
The helper then wonders in state of conundrum
If unvalued effort and dented intent are mislaid
On the ungrateful and the undeserving of help
For helplessness helps breed contempt in the end.
July 21, 2021
Contest : Word Play Poems With Play-On-Words Raison D'etre
Sponsor : John Anderson
Because the mind still stays
The memory of the holocaust,
And the face reflects the twinge that still lurks
In the hollow of our frail hearts;
My mournful pen shall bleed
In a forever flow of pensive mood.
We are survivors
Who suffered the flame of covid.
We are survivors
Who sampled the taste of death.
We who saw the gate of hell and live
To tell the tale that hell is cosy,
Compared to the wicked world;
We are now casualties of war.
Hell is a cooling place
The earth is not.
And no one devil inhabits a calming hell.
They all abide with us here in the flaming hell;
For the earth is hell,
The hell is earth.
The earth is hell where the devil-incarnates dwell.
The hell is place where the hostile hunger
Shoots fiery darts at poor souls.
The covid slaughtered its thousand,
We heard it.
Hunger slaughtered its ten thousands,
We saw it.
The devil is innocent,
Man is not.
Many visited the heaven but never return;
It is safe to die.
Many visited the street but never return;
They were shot in the head.
But thousands remained indoor,
There they welcomed their death and followed him.
The death loved them more than their rich neighbours.
Tell me, why my sorrowing pen won’t bleed
When death is kind and man is cruel?
Tell me, why my sorrowing pen won’t bleed,
When the devils hoarded palliatives;
And poor souls suffer?
Those invented pandemic did no harm;
Those feign pandemic to peculate did.
Those declared lockdown meant well;
To feed man with the wind,
And slaughter souls in hunger.
Lekki toll-gate episode is enough
To succor our grieving souls.
Now to those buried their dead
In the heart of their memories
For the lack of further space in the burial sites;
In the sundry lands and climes
Where pandemic havocked like hell;
To you whose mirth has been ceased
By the cacophony of the holocaust;
To you whose land the inferno lingers still;
May you be brave to fight to victory.
May new dawn cure your night of mourning.
May you forget the season of cold;
By the warmful rays of sunshine.
May your heart be filled
With overwhelming songs of joy.
For until this war is over;
And the mind lets go
Of the memory of the holocaust,
And the face reflects the ebullient heart of the optimist;
My mournful pen shall continue to bleed,
In a forever flow of pensive mood.
Lost in the desert
Laying down on the red hot sand
In the wide wilderness
Desperately hoping for a drop of water
To quench my thirst
I see from afar on the horizon
What looks like a river, an ocean
Maybe a mirage,
Nevertheless I want to walk closer
And make sure it’s not an optical illusion
I gather all the strength I have left in me
And start walking in this arid land of silence
Towards what seems to be an oasis
Imploring God to send me a savior
For He is the only one that can rescue me
In this hostile environment
Oh sweet savior I’ve lost my way,
but I know I will find you
I can feel your presence
And that hope keep me moving forward
The wind is whistling and the sand blowing
All over up blurring my sight
Yet I can perceive your silhouette
Through the sand storm.
I can smell your perfume
On the dunes, between the palm trees
Mixed with the sweet smell of hot sand
At midnight when the sun will be resting
Let’s meet under the majestic palm tree
Where the desert meet the ocean
We will be alone and together
The moon’s shimmery reflections,
And the stars bright light
Will be our decor.
They will witness the Fusion
Of the Namib desert and the Atlantic ocean
The revival of the dry and cracked land
For In the desert my heart and my dreams
became dry.
In the stillness of the night,
The twinkling of the stars
The sound of the Nightingales
A love story is being written
So let’s kiss under the moonlight
For, in your arms the future is promised.
Men venture into actions and adventures bold
To amass wealth and keep treasures in their hold
Claim them as their own for a little while
Not knowing the cruel fate waits hostile.
Sand castles built will topple down
Kingdoms conquered will eventually drown
Their fall will cause resounding echoes in our ears
Unmindful, we move on reckless in top gears.
Trophies and laurels which are eagerly chased
Will be taken away and in other hands placed
Footprints will be washed away by apathetic waves
All we claim as ours will be looted by Time’s thieves.
Even the mighty oak will fall and rot one day
The giggling stream may dry up on its way
The victor’s sword or the gem studded crown
Will be covered in rust or dust with none to own.
Once gone, for us, no heart will throb
Not a single soul will be there to sing, sigh or sob
Leaving the dead to rot in the closure of the vault,
To life’s alluring charms, the dear ones depart.
Cold as ice, the dead will lie inert and still
Feasted on by maggots, rotting in the icy chill
Life and all its vain glory, will be defunct
And all mad fever and frivolous fret- extinct.
The power and position, deemed great
Shall come to naught in the gloomy vault
Yet we run and yet we straggle behind
Trusting in our power and prowess blind.
Lord, teach us not to run after illusory charms
Give wisdom to tame greed that harms,
For, all that men rapaciously hold and trust,
‘Must consign to death and come to dust’
We are the same
For we play games
Why eye for eye
Greets more sad cries?
Conflict breeds pain
Pain grows harsh strains
Why gather pain
As new refrains?
Fear is the root
Where hate grows shoots
Why must fear fight
With darkness bright?
Be willing now
To know somehow
Why must proud man
Plot evil stand?
Wear ego well
Yet let truth tell
Why be hostile
With vain mad wiles?
Live each to each
With loving reach
Why cause more hurt
By filth and dirt?
Your pain like mine
Hurls crimes that line
Why don't we stop
To sip love drops?
To know love is
The cause of bliss
Why fool the fool
With hate that pools?
Love is the way
To meet each day
Why change of heart
Grows mindful start?
Leon Enriquez
31 October 2017
Singapore
Pain Taker
It pays to dance through the moments
That bend and break our souls,
To give our souls to freedom
And to let our pain go.
It is healing to cry through your pain
To unleash its holding beast
The salty tears, are rivers of freedom
That flood the broken face.
It pays to break the silence
And scream aloud the pain.
The crying and the dancing, the screaming and the fears.
Unleash your ugly feeling and free the hostile smears!
When life paralyzes and freezes you on pause
The very energy that you would rather deny
Waits on the shelf like a healing balm
That you refuse to apply.
It pays to go the medical doctor
Because medical help you might likely need.
But don’t forget your Maker
Holds the feeling better deed.
Freezing in the midst of hostile ice monsoon
triggering aching woes beneath blood and bones,
I search for a quilt woven in sanguine rune
silken feathers of clementine and gold tones-
body ails, yet spirit soars, sings to the moon,
beyond clouds obscured in kohl sleets of hailstones
whilst rhapsodies of nature serve light to calm-
scattered scars in the air, like cosmic mint balm
But as skies swing heavy, and coldness seeps in,
hope breathes from sapphire dews of rain waltzing free,
for when mists of nature envelopes my skin,
I find traces of peace from roots of my tree
amidst the piercing pain pulsating within-
fields of eagle ferns, the tranquilizing key,
sets a serene scene with silver sequined lines,
sprinkling zests of zen from inner sun that shines.
Sometimes mind gets blanketed in confusion,
sinking behind steel walls sculpted in distress
although shadowed stars swirl like an illusion,
faith is the thread for thin needles to redress
and restitch fragmented frames of vague vision.
So let suppressed agony slowly digress
in pearl pages of cathartic tomorrows-
now my ink abandons yesterday's sorrows.
I'm struggling to wake up,
rubbing my sensitive eyelids,
I may need more sleep;
awesome is the resplendent
morning dispersing its light,
I perceive it as a sumptuous woman
wearing a green dress as Nature does!
The first thing I do is to whisper
a prayer different in tone and meaning,
my thankfulness to Him transcends a feeling
that reflects an immense appreciation for the precious life
I am living and not projecting emotions felt as trite...
always rendering them profound and equally fair!
The golden gleams of an awakening sun,
crown the tops of the Longleaf pines with diamonds,
not those that wealthy women wear at a ball to be noticed;
these sunbeams rays embellish their branches and make them sparkle
of a great luminescence that even astonishes the raging, fading moon
unwilling to miss the spectacle unfolding with intense images;
the Chirping sparrows have been warbling since the early dawn
and the Orchard orioles parched on spruces are somewhat sad
not have been able to perform and be admired by birdwatchers,
ah, their whistling melodies must wait for silence as they become hostile!
I am at your mercy, entity of the forest,
Longing , burning to understand your hostile ways!
For it is merely a moment in time,
Bound by your strange presence,
That I realize you are much more than what meets the gaze,
Of every endearing fright,
I understand your heart of night!
In wonderment of your wander,
I have reached this time lag into your life,
In the hellish furies that you do tame in your mysterious night...
I have felt the fears of your past waking life,
Your journeys into time spells of loving lost array
I never knew I would meet the eyes that now do stray,
Into futures you have always known,
For you travel into zones one would be lost in forever...
Though I must merely hope,
That the future you see in me
Will lead us both to trust, willingness and sympathy...
To words with meaning,
To illusive fears melting into understanding,
Your bindings soon shall loosen from me,
So that I may bind you with loving embrace,
And eternal assurance that in this world, alone
You shall never face....