Long Imprisoned Poems

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


Freedoms Fall

Or flag has turned upside down
In distress our nation's found
A one world order at liberties loss
Forgotten the soldiers that paid our freedoms cost
Burning parchments from the past
That held the wisdom of our founding fathers path
In God we trust has been forgot
Something must change
This has to stop
Warriors treated as criminals, cons
And terrorist talked to like leaders, Gods
Our Presidents a cowardly man
Eloquently twisting what is truth and forcing his demands
Executive orders
With all disregard
Brutally welding power against
The constitution and people he swore to protect
Given chance after chance to prove
His good intent and heart
Your all soon to be imprisoned and disarmed
Brainwashed armies
Forced to follow 
Obeying orders
To kill the innocents
And fellow Americans
Out of control our National debt
It's time to stand 
For what is left
Propaganda all around
Purposely staged to cause chaos and confound
Leaving our people in fear and dumbed down
Slowly they sell America's shores
Someday the enemy will come to collect 
At our children's doors
Pushing hatred
We must make hast
Not falling for a disillusioned war
Between each race
Listen friends
Look the liars in the face
They wait, like a thief in the night
To inflict marshal law
For control of our life
Destruction and injustice for all
With honor we must answer the call
Clip the beasts talons 
Cripple the demon, relinquishing its claws
Hinder the heathens
That desires to watch
America's fall.
Form:


Premium Member Trapped

Trapped

An imprisoned animal walks the bars back and forth at the zoo. 
I have seen my guy do the same thing in the garage. 
You might think, perhaps I should be concerned? 
Why would I consider them similar at all?
I will explain, a feeling…

When we are in a place or time that has limits, 
we long to break them, to prove our worth, 
if not to others, simply to ourselves. 

A man is measured today… by his collections, 
the “stuff” that he obtains, that actually possess him. 
All things that will be worthless, once eyes are closed…
And… I tell you now, it will happen. 

Being happy, has much as can be, given any circumstance, 
is a way to live. Any action(s) less than complete…
“glorification” of the day falls so short.
Not worth measuring at all. 

The cage…
it is precise from wall to wall.
Every step, until the fall.
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Waiting Sings Along With Torment

WAITING SINGS ALONG WITH TORMENT

Each night aroma of jonquils arrive to tickle me
yet no console as I am a slave to your absence
as bright full moon slowly slit the dormant sea
in the field of black, hours, I crave for your essence.

The cold breeze of December can send the shivers
running intermittent into my back but  weak  for  within
I am frozen waiting for the warmth you alone can deliver.
Today, later morning or a day after, I want to begin

shedding suffering, choosing long patience in between.
You imprisoned my heart since the day we declared love,
our love silenced jazzy heartbeats, we feel so green,
the hundred memories we shared white as dove.

I am to wait even if waiting sings along with torment
for I believe the promise we said is pure of intent
__________________________________________________
==CONTEST NAME: WAITING==
=Contest Sponsor: Craig Cornish=
~~2nd Place~~
6:43 PM, September 10, 2015
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Shadows of the Living Nightmares Escape

The brainwashing of non believers has begun 
backwards peddling parties on the streets 
taking away all basic rights under a family structure 
imposing ridiculous arguments hell bent within such destruction

This new age occult removes freedom of speech 
where good values have become imprisoned facts
impaired visions caught inside the dark web

Judged by those promoting sinful acts woe behold 
educational standards fall dramatically backwards 
liars sit on the seats of the state's offices thieving clowns 
spreading corrupt pagan literature this vulgarity shape shifts

The truth runs a red light and turns it green 
fornicators stealing every humane virtue drunken louts 
pushing a strange lifestyle foreign to the majority 
tolerance has just jack knifed away from love

Equality has lost all foundations killing the innocent's word 
when the temple of our Lord Most High Spirit 
is shunned and burdened by man's awful silence 
and complete disobedience each one afraid to condemn 
what's wrong will never be right
yet they will never stand for what is right and just
instruct the ignorant has now become the policy under clouds

Premium Member Fault Is Not In the Poet

Fingers tremble,
like an alcoholic without a bottle.
His pen is graceful in its slumber,
but imprisoned ink desires to be free -
intoxicated by his poetry.

Lips are forever silent,
in the absence of inspiration.
Isolated in the boredom of blankness -
congested to think enough, 
struggling to feel enough.

Fault is not in the poet,
but in his absent mind -
which is a metaphorical candle.
Each drip creating pools of dusty wax,
as ebony wick struggles to keep flame alight.

Monsters of the mind
keep musings locked away,
so he turns to poets from the past -
but even Rumi cannot rekindle his desires.

Eyes gaze among petals for stimulation,
but their dormant fragrance offers no solution - 
he is blinded by loss of concentration.

He wonder if his mind has become a flower,
out of season, but refusing to die.

He reflects upon love and lovers,
past, present and future,
but it does not liberate his ink -
maybe romance is out of fashion.

As his tongue tastes autumn's crispy air,
gloomy horizons summon birds south -
their songs of joy soften into muteness.

He feel for their empty nests,
now visible through naked trees.
Yet no outpouring of poetic observations,
overcome him - 
have birds taken his muse?

Maybe the fault is in the birds,
maybe the fault is in the question...
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member As It So Happened

she drifted through an egg timer

as if imprisoned in a snow globe

a speckle of dust in the heat of sequence

turned upside down and back again

a centrifuge of forced cohesion

control anger self-imposed consent


she slipped on the endless surface

banged her head against the ceiling

dropped to the treacherous floor

only to take a breath of despair

suspended in broken limbo and

a script written by wrath injuries

incarceration dogma and defeat


wreathed with a crown of thorns

lacerated scared and vulnerable

puncture marks and crude exclamation

of a protagonist in agony


eventually the looking glass broke

shards and fragments set her free

no shelter apart from mental pain

bruised shattered and surrendered

a barely audible voice released the void


as she gathered the grains of doubt

enforced discomposure and surprise

she realized that she was far more

than the sum of intangible parts

and picked up the pieces aware

that certainty and collusion

had not been her friends but 

evil foes had ruled her sentience


scattered strew swept her skin

as if to say sift through the dredge

once the cover dissipated in the fall out

no more a shell of crushing forces

she walked away as fast as the storms

that had held her captive for so long


02nd August 2021

Neopocha

"Neophoca"

I was dragged 
out of my ocean 
of dreams 

when they peeled
my skin, I was broken,
an endangered species

feeding bits of me 
to the carniverous 
genus species 

the genus 
and gender
predatory 

covetting my 
freedom they 
lost themselves

in the comforting
arms of my trust
they wore me out

made sleeves
of me, stole 
my baby

expensive collateral;
their ownership belittled, 
bruised and scorched 

victory marks
like tattoos 
marched on me

they branded me,

attached 
to my life
untruthful labels, 

their ignorance 
basking 
became them, 

the sins 
of the fetid 
patriarchy

such violence, this
devoted dv, the human 
seed planted

my baby, 
zoo trained 
and chained 

I became uprooted
stalked, staked and 
claimed 

I became owned
I drowned in my 
mortal dreams 

such violence, this
devoted dv, the
imprisoned truth

life blood escaping 
the juxtaposed 
real me

Selkie 

the humble humboldt
priests call me 
Neophoca cinerea 

they call me 
reverently,
they sing me home, 

home 
to my only 
holy See

they call me
reverently 

Selkie

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Form: Narrative

Abandoned

    "She"who was 
deserted by her husband
is now swimming with positive thoughts,
aiming profusely to reach the shore 
with the drive of knowledge
gained in earlier life.Occu-
pation is now keeping her 
steady and independent.
Never can the inexp-
erienced people 
understand the pain she has gone 
through untill and unless they are subjected 
to the same one.Stirred up with bitterness she 
sits alone in a corner everyday and pours out her 
inevitable pain to the vacant space;Often alluding to 
her foolish marriage she whimpers secretly ,trying to 
conceal her scars from her parents and pals.Fervently 
questions God for joining her destiny with a wrong 
mate.Whenever she steps out of her house hurdles 
are impatiently crawling on her back digging up 
her imprisoned life, to which she hammers 
them boldly by her sharp screwing words.
But once she returns home she throws
away the public facade and easily
relinquishes.., slumps 
on floor helpless 
and only 
 sobs 
cuddling
darkness.
She prays her 
deity not to create 
such an unworthy
disastrous renounced 
matrimonial relationship to 
any other women in the world.

17-6-2020

 4th place in the Contest.
Note: "Thesaurus ~Abandon or Abandoned 
Poetry Contest".
Sponsored by Dear Heart.
© V. Deepa  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Concrete

Premium Member Strikingly Naked

Strikingly Naked
                By Odin Roark

Voicing the reflection one sees insures
the facade really is,
was,
must have been.

Time passes…

How smoky the reflection,
this aging identity of accumulated distortion,
where once perception played innocently,
found disguises to hide behind,
who now past the age of innocence,
sees the exposed abyss of shadowed deceptions.

Such awareness knows well the mirror,
where cognizance of the make-believe
beckons the right light,
the flattering shade,
the required eye-sparkle of denial,
no matter the reality.

At some point…

Behind the rehearsed and performed persona,
we raise the inner window
revealing the self-of-fact,
that place where we gulp
what air is left,
sucking up any reserved willingness
blowing in from subterranean shores
to help beat back our self-imposed exile.

One surges forward…

Pulls open the only door
the entrance we feared opening,
an opening your inner monologue
always whispered was there
but you chose to remain imprisoned
by the mirror.

Revelation…

The door now open,
leads to other doors,
so small they seem
as you bend, crawl,
find other rooms,
windowless cubbyholes,
where night sweats
and endless reprieves
once kept you breathing,
albeit your own recycled dead air.

How rewarding…

To see for the first time,
your own recidivist delusions
reverberating like shattered emulations,
blinding your eyes with its refractive light,
burning through regrettable behavior imprisoned,
where no steel bars were ever necessary,
where a place of truth awaited,
a wilderness you are finally ready to explore.

Such is the manifest moment…

When you couldn't be so strikingly naked,
had you not kept yourself so carefully dressed
all those years.
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.

Crumbs of Deception

...A poem dedicated to a character named Koreen Mae Garson (a lady, not a man)... 

Your love smokes me like a worn-out cigarette

Your love blemishes me with bite marks

You brush aside the crumbs…now I’m stomped on all over again
Your hugs are constricting like a serpent
Your hugs loses its passion…my fury vigorously sparks
You abandon me cold-bloodedly, now I choke in harsh punishment

Your treachery strangles me…you don't consider my screams of importance
You snatch away my humility and leave me with the crumbs of shame
Your arrogance plants a grave in me…you don't notice that I desire your radiance
You ditch me with senseless remarks and you make me feel game

You ruin my modesty
You stole away my heart’s virtue
You bruise my sustaining dynasty
You complete me with rue

Your conceitedness intoxicates me…

Your arrogance underwhelm thee…
 
You unscramble my remains and insert me with the liquid of corruption
Your self-confidence leads me to never-ending fate…you disregard my joy
You handle me with maltreatment/enchantment and smudge me with your provoking expression
You crushed me with your cunning plans, now you made me hunt after my prized boy 

Your hatred penetrates me with lush, crooked trace
You swap me onto the floor, now I’m smashed into smithereens
Your smiles lose its splendor...your enlightenment gains disgrace
You disown me carelessly…now I spilled your moldering beans 

You’re imprisoned by the chains of infuriating heat,
Feeding off the crumbs of deception
Form: Rhyme

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