Long Infernal Poems
Long Infernal Poems. Below are the most popular long Infernal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Infernal poems by poem length and keyword.
Why choose war
& recuse ourselves
from peace as a whole?
For this we die boldly
in pieces for
puzzling reasons
Tell me
who's responsible
for this
ungodly treason
The news
spread like wildfire
as fire rained
from the heavens
Is this a message
from The Most High
& spoken blessing?
I'm guessing you should
listen with ears
on your heart as to
avoid convalescence
Subliminal waves
roll in like high tides
crashing a beach party
We reach partly because
we're blind to
the darkness of
the abyss
Reminiscent of
darker times
that's why it's
so hard to reminisce
Our experience
is tied to an ocean
of deeper things
Fish for
the right answers
& take in what
the question brings
We're reeling
in real time
casting lines
with aspirations
Questionable acts
staged for reactions
but we block them
with affirmation
It's internal
demonstration
that rocks them
to the core
Bring forth
infernal flames
from within
shining light on what
earth is spinning for
Home for sale
Home on fire
Fire in the sky
Fire and brimstone
Brimstone and sulfur
Brimstone and infernal dioxide
Dioxide evangelism
Dioxide emissions
Emissions aggress as amorphous
Emissions control
Control of ourselves (and other selves)
Control the carbon
Carbon is terminal and isotopic
Carbon is a footprint
Footprint reduction
Footprint calculator
Calculator online
Calculator broken
Broken promises
Broken bones on a broken planet
Planet Earth
Planet in peril
Peril is peculiar and personal
Peril is graver danger
Danger inherent and external
Danger zone
Zone out
Zone in
In favor of being
In the know
Know thyself
Know the truth
Truth or dare
Truth hurts
Hurts to see
Hurts to breathe
Breathe deeply
Breathe slowly
Slowly dying
Slowly fading
Fading hope
Fading away
Away from here
Away from there
There is no time
There is no escape
Escape plan
Escape route
Route 66
Route to nowhere
Nowhere to go
Nowhere to hide
Hide
Go...
Wanting to shrug off this shell, break loose from me
Silence that damn hermit, hiccuping under his tree
Trapped inside too long, dormancy dreams to wake
Disgorging bubbly lava, fills in soporific landscapes
Longing to escape soft tissue, cast off mortal bones
Break shackles of mundanity, rid life’s infernal drone
Out there lies all answers, beyond the hermits void
His space mostly perfect, til our Big Bang destroyed
Go forth and multiply, primal stars hypernova like hell
Filling a cosmos with elements, configuring him as well
Hold your tongue hermit, stop humming about in bliss
Stay quiet down that hole, cease fumbling at the abyss
Deeper and deeper, below where basements depress
Sits an altar of incremental tables, poets go to confess
Forget truths algorithm, they’ll fool any polygraph test
And the hermit lies all day long, he meditates for a rest
Breathe in, breathe out, forget about terminal breaths
Don’t underestimate the ether, chants a monk in Tibet
Fill your mind with mindfulness, peace will set you free
Watch them hiccups abate now, our hermit’s all at sea
February 6th 2023 / 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers'
FINAL Placement Poetry Contest / Sponsor: Mark Toney
An attack of this magnitude
was completely unforeseeable;
and who thought that an unguarded city
had to feel that sense of solitude...
through an urealistic exodus so undiscernible,
and later reclaim its struck territory!
What we lost...is not the superb Twin Towers:
the pride of the wealthiest nation on earth,
towers that can be rebuilt in years;
it's those lives that enmity cut short!
And they tried to disorientate us,
and disrupt our ingenuous and lively living
by spreading unrest and choas
with absurd and infernal thinking!
This infamy is so ineffaceable
from the mind of the unfoolish,
fair and reasoning man with greater intellect...
that it becomes so inexplicable;
a shameful act not condoned by civilization,
confirmed by unsympathetic sentiments!
What we lost ...is truly irreplaceable
by every imaginable remedy:
its the worth, the comfort and the unbroken joy,
which dazzled in the NewYorkers' eyes...
making their days so livable!
What we lost...is eternally
carved out into those shining stones:
bearing glorious names to withstand time itself1
I write to you from inside an empty skull
because Wednesday can be hollow and bony
as we all may well know.
I am a man of great hope,
not unlike those earlier alchemists
with their gathered elements about them,
their cauldrons and scales,
their mystic science brewing
into crescendos of disappointment,
yet always working toward
a transmutation to the gold
of one more legendary day.
I must go now for the sun is setting
and in this hollow bone
a bird in a golden tree sings of
a sun that rises only to set.
It sings also of a mythical land,
where seven lesser deities'
number the hours on a faceless dial,
an infernal device
that measures the days
between the beginning and the end,
as if Thursday were but a dream
yet to be begun or imagined.
"To die.To sleep?Perchance to dream?"
There is but one we will know
If immortality is in life's scheme.
If mortality is the only show
Then will our bodies turn to dust
Mouldering in slow decay
Only in memory will we be discussed
And even reminiscence will pass away.
Hope or despair,survival or extinction
Will wait until the veil of life is drawn
Lean towards one means the soul's destruction
No one will then know the truth ,once gone.
One path offers much more comfort
The other being so bleak
Religions offer the crutch of support
Humanism the second prefers to seek
I would pray for the life eternal
With its hope of renewal and complete bliss
The other option to me reeks of the infernal
With its impersonal emptiness
The coil spirals endlessly
chambered secrets dwell
an angel weeps across an infernal land
things sit in a quite hell
the words are written
fate is dealt
the meanings are felt
a Requiem for the dying
thoughts are the lights
of souls chambered were ancient secrets dewell
Raven wings fan the eternal flames
in the land of the blind
only the one eyed man is king
the realm of the damn
Something fans flames with Emerald wings
Red twine and splinter things
Divinities fine nothing
search for the lost broken Castaways
Screams from the White
chambered hearts thrum
metronomes beat
desolation dreams of Styx
Black rich the river seeps
no one roams down deep wells
vast the desperate fell
Damnation cast
Shadow last
far far from the light down
the coil spinning chambered secrets dwell
Pump and hum of isometric drugs
desolation’s dream
secrets scream
down in Wells vast
Crimson chambers pulse, thrum
in the dim light that fell
Far from were humanity dewells
the coil spinning fast
beats the heart burning
Bringing down the crown
warm divinity fearing
tears flown across the void
coiled endlessly
chambered secrets dwell
an angel sweeps across
an infernal land vast
things sit in a quite hell
the words are written fast
fate is dealt the meanings all melt
a Requiem for the dying
the hand of man is felt!
Mirrors don't lie about frank and ernest portrayal...
Especially when giving cheeky badass
blemished physiognomic reflection
tricking me seeing displeasing likeness
Matthew Scott Harris, a grown lad brandishing
his treasured invisible cutlass
poised to strike, (where spiderlines
instantaneously provoked, webbed,
and frankly zapped shattering experience),
whereby yours truly
rendered unconscious to any pass
hubble gratefully dead singed hair zombie
straight away befriending image with him
aforementioned christened human biomass,
hence explains personal objection (mine)
devoid of any sass
sneaking a peek at (regarding employing
cute antiquated, quaint word) looking glass.
Feeble effort, butta lemme attempt to apprise
ye dear reader, how gasping
at me selfsame visual simulation spurs cries
and whispers with shrieks of horror
inexplicable nauseating revulsion jars myopic eyes
espying even willow the wisp gallivanting guise
think mine glassy doppelganger blithely
traipsing, tooling tiptoeing no lies
hands down acquiring masquerade ball door prize
if nothing else... try getting a fleeting rise
of humoresque judicious metaphorical
sucker puncheon the gut against self I satirize
February twenty third perhaps lame effort
to affect seeming witty and wise.
Mailer daemons rule cerebral roost,
whereby gimcrackery invectives loosed,
cuz all during growing up years bullies did boost
inferiority complex hatching adult
egg go self steam goosed
abysmal confidence building accomplishment
ye accurately deduced
charnel, (bilabial) frictional,
infernal... struggle moost
arduous (think Atlas, Sisyphus, plus
ten subsequent Greek mythological Titans) juiced
with eternal divinity upon
whose figurative shoulder humanity papoosed.
3.
Or down yet another city street,
This Way down that grand Hiway,
That Third Eye opened:
Random patches of dandelion manifest,
Climbing the overgrown commons by the road;
Disappearing out of sight -
By the cracked, sun-blanched sidewalk;
Golden and deep emerald green dandelion
Over the smog-choked horizon.
Humanity on the brink,
Sliding down that proverbial 'slippery slope" -
To the proverbial abyss of our insouciance, to
Our bourgeois folly, infernal cruelty fed by witless greed,
The more mundane, mere surface of all things, as they may be.
But again, surely, this can't be all that is: So mean, so toxic.
Refreshed, one looks again, looks with eyes wide open with
New Saving Knowledge.
Now the patches of dandelion seem even more startlingly
Alive and vibrant.
They seem, somehow, almost "more real than real".
Illumined, they appear hyper-real, dazzlingly brilliant,
Appear preternatural, mesmerisingly coronal, and
Opulent, yet as though man-made, like ethereal origami,
Like the sun itself, another Saving "Point of Navigation" to
the Hidden Infinite Divine Source behind all things mundane.
*****
"Jesus said [to Judas Iscariot], 'Come and I will teach you ...
about a great realm and a boundlessness whose measure no angelic
race has comprehended. In it is the great Invisible Spirit ...'"
--- The Gospel of Judas 10: 1 - 5
"God is one's very 'own'. It is the eternal relationship. One realizes Him in
direct proportion to the intensity of one's feelings for Him. Don't be afraid.
Always remember that somebody is protecting you."
"He who is really anxious to cross the ocean of the material world will somehow break his bonds. No one can entangle him."
--- The Holy Mother, Sri Saradamani Devi, the divine consort of
Sri Ramakrishna
"Mary [Magdalene] said [to Jesus Christ], 'Lord, is there a place which [lacks truth]? The Lord said, "The place where I am not!'"
--- From the Dialogue of the Savior
"God is a dyer. As the good dyes, which are called 'true', dissolve with
the things dyed in them, so it is with those whom God has dyed. Since his dyes are immortal, they are immortal by means of his colors."
--- From the Gospel of Philip
Opps! must be dead,
looks like the pearly gates,
Rough guy levitates towards me,
think I know his face,
St Peter, I need some help
trying to get into this place,
I’ll let you enter kiddo,
but my identity you mistake,
I’m Lemmy from Motorhead,
and these are rocknroll gates.
What! where the hell am I,
bet my drink got laced,
Musical heaven my friend,
come on let’s get spaced,
Sure thing, have you got
any weed, also love a pint,
Hey that’s my middle name,
I’ve just rolled a hardcore joint,
Guess who’s on tonight,
Jimi Hendrix tops the bill,
His new girlfriends, a foxy lady,
he’s even covering my overkill,
Hows Bon Scott, haven’t
heard from him in a while,
Drinking vodka in the bar,
hitting highway to hell in style,
I’d love to see Cobane,
that guy could really write a song,
Yeah still in rehab, his will is good,
be out before too long,
This is some kickass place,
when was it conjured up,
Jagger came up with the idea,
wanted his own club,
No way! he’s definitely alive,
I seen the stones last year,
afraid overdosed on brown sugar,
Devil had sympathy, let him reappear,
Wow this black cannabis stuff,
is really kicking in,
Can we go see a show,
but please not that infernal din,
Oh ignore him, Conway Twitty,
turning this place into a zoo,
Just hangs around the gates,
heaven banned him too,
Mercury, Bowie, George michael
did they make the cut,
I’ll let you in on a secret
we don’t see them very much,
Well Freddie didn’t settle,
said he wanted to break free,
Ziggy’s here ok, all time low,
after splitting from gene genie
And for George, lost his faith,
normally stays around the loo,
Watch out for Jim Morrison,
lighting fires, gets roadhouse blues
Wow I’m wasted Lemmy,
how come your not allowed on stage,
What! oh the straight jacket,
don’t get me into a rage,
That nasty war stuff I collected,
got me sent to hell,
My noisy music drove satan crazy,
left me here for a spell,
Well nice meeting you Lemmy,
I’m off to see the show,
God was never on your side,
better off down below.
By
David Kavanagh.