Long Intermixed Poems
Long Intermixed Poems. Below are the most popular long Intermixed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intermixed poems by poem length and keyword.
Jokes on me, guess you're the roaster and i'm to chicken to say goodbye cause I waste my time wishing you would hold me closer ,the shows been over but im still seated, my vision blurred , Is the curtain really closed? ,In the mist I search through my mind to try to find the truths separated from the lie,what's real and whats hidden, intermixed and woven, a stir of confusion, a mind warped ,a puppet to the puppeteer her brains been stirred, she cant see clear,a place in his heart? please! there's no room for you there, little crumbs get dropped and I follow the trail going through the maze getting dizzy in the haze hoping to reach the big cheese,what am I trying to achieve?The unattainable heart, the broken Soul,a sick need like desire why is it he that fuels my fire when it is also he who leave my heart and soul, empty ,yearning and tired,the lust ,his touch ,his smell, his presence in your mind he always dwells, he disregards you and still you feel like hes your armor?!? it's debatable that hes not quite malicious but yet he still harms you,disarmed you are against his charms,his smile ,his voice defeats you every time,in your mind a shadow of him cackles you are mine,a prisoner to passion all while forgetting this kinda pain is not in fashion ,a glutton for punishment I ingest all the excrement, a slave to the pain don't even try to break out of my chains,sounding erratic the feeling is tragic ,his flesh pressed against mine ,the skin craving sin, ringmaster of this disaster he controls the elements like a wizard, under his spell heaven an hell ,if u looked in my eyes could you tell? I'm under your spell can you not tell, I wish I was held in your mind like you are in mine ,I wish in your heart I had a place to reside, but I'm just a jester going on a ride ,riding my unicycle around in a circle ,a sideshow for you ,the one u lie with but will never hold dear, like a master I'm your cat ,you wave the feather taunting me but I can never grasp it ,like a baby bird inside of the shell there's a slight crack but I cant break free, born deformed unable to fly,you caught me a few times as I started to cry, shrieking inside my mind the words blast between my skull and vibrate my brain as my blood vessels pulsate in a excruciating manner , my mind screams he'll never be mine!
within the under belly of
this hob bull ling Leviathan beast
induced roaring hungry soundcloud issued
within abdominal folds
finding they in creased
never diminishing, matter
whether I turn north, south, west or east
this adult desired,
soon after he envisioned
buttered crispy dish eyed fancily feast
culinary cut throat Michelin meisters
(pit a less lee) pitted
against Pillsbury doughboy greased
imaginatively gobbling hectare
thousand island inlaid
juiced kickstarting least
unable to pay thee Monsieur's consigliere –
damn, hard cold cash just shy by a nickle
aye first taken got taken hostage
as a wreck loose poet,
the anti write cadre
strip searched
every stitch of clothes I wore,
then subjected me to an aye tip pickle
pun hush ment,
where this deplorable basket case
stood aghast as hounds from hell
got loosed by thee Don Rickle
lathered canine chops
slapped by foamy salivating tongues
poised to ham er and
make mince meat out this pop sickle
but...lo and behold, as vicious
snooping doggy dogs
approached within a hair breadth
minecrafted fingers fluttered
in the air asper ready to tickle
whereat the snarling killers (bon jove)
rolled with faux pas in the air
kicking, laughing (or a similar
fox simile thereof),
inciting Major Domo tuff flair
his nostrils (like...well
an amazing dragon)
with blood red eyes didst glare
while fur sprouted over his bare skin
honor ably dispelling every last hair
which bizarre circumstance, an opportunity
to escape from this thieving Magpie lair
approved by the ghost of Rossini,
who suddenly prestidigitatiously
magically brought to my defense William Tell
(in the guise oven
instant activating App) pull lick caisson
thus juiced by a whisker avoiding a scare.
Perhaps the realm where dormant ideas germinate
will coalesce into sturdy tomes even if posthumously late
recognition gets affianced with a memorialized slate
where no body will lie,
cuz this mortal will get his ashes sprinkled
intermixed with wildlife,
who will unknowingly consecrate and sanctify
rack and pinion traction,
where dost dust will fertile lies
to become reincarnated
via blessings sans creatures who defecate or urinate.
THE DARKENING EARTH BLOTS SOLES, ROUTS, AND CLOTS OF WORTH BRINGING TOLLS TO SATANS SLOTS.
ENOUGH SAID, GOD MUST COME AND FLOOD THE SINFUL WAKING HEAD. END THE MAD. BURY THE WEAK. FORGIVENESS IS ALL I SEEK. THE MEEK MUST SPEAK AND WISE MUST BE STRONG TO STAND AGAINST WHAT IS WRONG. THE PERSECUTION OF CHRISTIANS WAS FROM THE START RIPPING HEADS FROM BODIES ONE BY ONE APART.
DO NOT WAIT TO LONG FAIT WILL TAKE THE LAVERING BAIT AND GOD WILL SLAUTER HATE, SO DO IT BEFORE ITS TO LATE. THE RATE OF DEATH IS UNREAL BUT NOT COMPARED TO WHAT THE EVILDOERS FEEL. SEAL THE RUMMAGE AND BRING NONE TO APPEAL. EVERY ONE WILL BE WILLING TO KISS THE WORTHY HEAL. BURNING HAIL UPON EARTH IN THE MIGHTY WAR WILL PREVAIL.
HEALTH IS NOT MADE OF WEALTH AND WHACH THE KNOT UNTANGLE A BANNAR MADE OF SPANGLE, STRANGLE THE LIVES CAST UPON THE CLOTH A FAST UPON THE FOOD SATAN WILL ANGLE.
THE CLOGGED WORLD COMMUNICATION WILL SOON DODGE THE RELM OF THE WORLD UNDER, BUT HEAVEN WILL ONCE AGAIN THUNDER. HATE WILL BLUNDER BENEATH THE WRATH IN COMING OF DOOMS BATH.
THE REBUILDING OF THE RULING TEMPLE THE THIRD TIME WILL SEND FOR THE BLACK BIRD DROOLING FOR FLESH MIXED IN ASH CHURNING MESH.
NEVER QUESTION SALVATION OR BE BURNED TO THE EVER LASTING PIT FIRES OF DAMNATION. FOR THE LOVE OF GRACE REPENT AND BRING SINS TO THE FATHERS FEET AND ERASE. THRUST THE MARK FROM EMBRACE AND DARE NOT BETRAY THE RIGHT HAND OR HAND, BY BEING MISLEAD.
LOCUSTS WILL CAST UPON THE UNDEAD. SEASONS HAVE INTERMIXED THROUGH CHANGE COMING AS BEING A PHENOMENON OF THE STRANGE.
HE EXITS AND HAS BEEN BORN FOR THE ROLE OF EGNITING THE ENTICECED WHOM LOVED AS HE IS KNOWN PRICKING SOLES REMAIN TICKING. HE IS PRICED A DARK CHILD. THEY MARK THE ANTICHRIST SO PERSISE. THE ECONOMY AND HE ARE ONE, WHY HAS THIS BEEN DONE?
CHRISTENENED PURE, THERE IS ONLY ONE CURE. GOD IS THE ONE CURE. GOD IS THE ONE THING ANYONE CAN BE SURE. BEWARE THE TREMMORING TERROR FOR THE APOCALYPSES IS HERE AND THE ONE OUT RATED IS THE ONE MOST FEARED OF FEAR NEVER BEFORE SO SHEAR. SO GOOD LOCK AND LET EVERY WISE MAN HEAR THE END IS NEAR
Form:
In origin, all form in chaos lay:
One wilderness of warped and seething spray.
Thus, intermixed lay Earth and Sky and Sea,
Until a cooling calm let order be.
Cool crystallized, the Earth and Sea didst fall
Beneath the Sky, which cast its golden shawl.
Whence, from its warmth, the silver seeds didst spring,
Each words within the song the heavens sing.
So verdant were the ample paths of Earth!
Eternal summer and eternal mirth!
The gods, conceived in chaos and despair,
Gazed down upon its streams and meadows fair.
And as a child born to the very poor,
This point of light they loved, and didst adore.
So swiftly sped they down the Milky Way,
From stars to sylvan Earth, to smile and play.
Then tended they this garden of their hearts,
In stewarding each measure of its parts.
Across the lovely lands their garden built,
Which everlasting summer ne’er would wilt.
With all allicient arts their grounds didst gild,
With selcouth statues, fabrile fountains filled.
To share their joy and trouble raised they men,
Those fateful friends in forest, field and fen.
The thoughtful clouds that graze upon the air;
The questful waves meandering from the mer;
Where meadows melt into the beaches fair;
There bound the regions gods and men didst share.
It is a dainty thing, a golden age,
When grace exceeds ambition, greed and rage.
So soon the sunny smile, it doth depart!
So soon the squabbling squalls their season start!
So soon the cherished meadows rang with war:
Where gods had tended, mortals ripped and tore.
So swiftly seizing didst sectarians slash,
For separate wealth, celestial wonders smash.
So long as greater theft brings greater kings,
So long spoilation spreads its wicked wings.
As some avert their eyes when beauty dies,
To hold remembrance of where ruin lies,
So sadly slipped the gods back to the skies.
And gathered in their velvet, starlit land,
The future course of mortal things they planned.
The Burning
It was seven days and seven nights
Or there abouts, I was not so sure
Life was shrouded in the darkness not at all pure
I lost track of dawn, of dusk, of realities fight
To keep me conscious
To keep me right
Comatose, delirious, unmoving slumber
In this dream like state
My desires still existed
Thirsts to be quenched
Passions flared
She was seductively dressed
I, with the eye of a tiger
Wishing to devour her being
To be with her, in her, be her
To taste her very soul
I smelled her nectars inviting scent
The bed sheets become drenched in sweat
The heat of the night ensconced me
A thousand candles and yet one more burned
The heat of passion mixed with the heat of the night
Flames rose from the desires within and without
My subconscious has played evil tricks and fooled me again
Lighting the candles that shall bring me to the beyond
The sheets became brimstone, the fire engulfed me
My mind in hazy confusion smelled roast flock of some sort
A meal after the passions was a succulent dessert
I became dizzy with the lust and the love intermixed
Somehow I am sleepy, dreamy, so very tired
The heat blankets me and I feel a strange foreboding
The reaper is grinning, staring down on my face
I try to wake, but I haven’t the wherewithal
I feel the burning
Painful for but a moment as the smokey flames take me
For one last dance
Burning, burning, searing heat
Blackened and burnt
Dreams
No more
Sunday, at 24 minutes past midnight, firetrucks arrived at an apartment in Dublin, Ireland 24 O’Connell street, and above Murrays pub, a lone tenant was found burnt to a crisp, apparently by a fire cause by candles, the remains have not been identified, and the building is a total loss.
Arthur’s Day in Dublin
Posted on September 24, 2009
To celebrate Arthur’s Day, From 17:59 to 22:00 All Pints of draft beers were €2.50
Upon eve, in the morning of spring, I witnessed the waltz of Mother Nature through the
shaded evergreens.
An apparition, personification of my daydreams, she did a ritual dance on bare-feet, while, I
stooped down (hidden) on bended knee.
All the souls of nature, from the grass to the springs, sprouted to human forms around her.
For she was their Goddess.
An earth quake rippled through the ground up to the air, sound as an awaken soul,
destroying the old with new, an instant out of phase with time; Fantasy clashing with reality.
The scene before me was as dark as it was beautiful, violence intermixed with serenity,
exhilarating my soul with desire. This is how the moment was painted.
The dance floor was a battlefield of motion and form, chaos fueling their souls, the hour:
midnight. Sky was full of an alien audience of stars acting in accordance with their part. Air
held amplified scents from all of nature around them.
Magical beings like animals fighting for supremacy to exist, ripping at each-others souls, at
their organic flesh, shredding each-other into mulch. Music: the cries of the plants.
How deep the torment and content ran within them, ghosts of former selves floating to
heaven like angels. Others, regenerating into the soil their essence, sprouting up in
abundance. Mother nature their mediator. For this was the Waltz of the Seasons.
Then, as quickly as it began, all the magic faded to obscurity as Mother Nature walked on.
Leaving behind the coliseum of change. Leaving behind this reporter, observing through
realities peephole.
http://artcomet.blogspot.com/2009/12/waltz-of-mother-nature.html
Form:
O yes, that is fine day
For fishing in mountain river
When weather is bad,
And raining from early gray dawn.
When world look so pity and doleful
Maybe for artists and poets
But so nice for big and hefty fishes.
They are swimming out
from deep and cold bottoms and hidden caves
to surface
collecting on shallows,
sometimes one by one
splashing and jumping out watercourse
close to edge
with clear joys and playing ecstasy
as if that silver living marvel
suddenly felt and predicted
the next Great Flood,
or time of Paradise
when all creatures
will coexisted friendly, peacefully and intermixed
Lullabying with one unimaginable divine future.
So its seems that fishes
have tryed set on the benches and wings
of some awesome waterwheel,
more grandeur than London’s or Singaporean’s Eyes,
appearing airily
for the vision of greatest waterfall
between joining Heaven and Earth,
Seas and Skys
in rainy day.
The skillful fishermen
Have good sense and flyer
For such days and luckiest instant.
They early wake up and gone to river
And capture lot of precious fishes,
Plying so naively for own hopes, dreams and ruptures.
Alas, for fishes
But good for intrinsic and great love
That also has such marvelous days
When you captured your reward,
If you early wake up and prepare himself
for catching precious golden
Swimming up from deep and waste waters.
The sweet flag and cattail murmur gently by a lagoon
In the distance there is red visage of harvest moon
The starship rises from the lagoon
Sound is not typical of engine rather it’s an eerie tune
The starship passes the moon and goes towards the constellation
It is the beauty of this constellation
That dazzles the imagination
And is souls’ inspiration
The stars that show their majesty
Are like lights of true eternity
The surreal soul extending feeling takes over the crew as they look to infinity
The mathematical nirvana expands the very soul to greatest degree
The constellation of lady with hair that seem to blow as if in a breeze
Her figure so enchanting it will make one week in the knees
But the real beauty is in her south seas
Her essence of female as arresting as volcano eruption that time would freeze
The evolution that needs no base and has reference point to idea of evolution
And imagination of similar fate is the secondary solution
Above those two expanding forces increase of by them designed resolution
All intermixed with beyond destiny they guide the ship like a beacon
This secret object of female is
Deep as the deepest abyss
The ship representing you know what is
And new glories maybe divine life will form when the two kiss
Afternoon duty session
After a hearty lunch
Only luck avoided
A nearly disastrous crunch.
For a split second the Controller
Let his attention waver and slide,
Which, for a brief instant, caused
Parallel dimensions to collide.
Dinosaurs appeared on
Many a sleeping city street
Causing that alarm and confusion
When ancient and modern meet.
Things that should have happened
Didn’t, or happened slightly late,
Leaving, for a little while, both worlds
In an intermixed confused state.
The Controller quickly corrected,
Things quickly settled down,
Leaving minimal damage
In the odd modern town.
New species instantly created
Were just as quickly gone
As the dimensions re-split
And normality moved on
In one world’s future
Hybrid remains would be found
Causing archaeological confusion
And many theories to abound.
And in the ancient world you
Could read the shock and surprise
That was for while was reflected
In many a dinosaur’s eyes.
The controller sighed with relief
The incident had made him think
And in contrition he’d resolved
To stop that extra lunchtime drink.
In the Controllers rest room
He was greeted with a sigh,
Many a colleagues thinking
There, but for fortune, go you or I.
He would be king, oh yes, he would
if there was a way he could.
He'd be ruler of the realm
unquestioned captain at the helm.
The lies and truth would flow intermixed
with no one left to decipher the hijinks.
A wall would stretch across the states
blocking all openings at the gates.
He would be the reigning unchallenged emperor
none dare speak aloud lest rise his temper.
In the background stand all supporters
not daring speak or be overcome by words and mortars.
His future lay in wait just biding time
to grasp his kingdom most sublime.
The average citizen is low down in the ranks
as he claims control of law and every bank.
His relationship with countries east and west
shower them with warnings of his threats.
The world is thrown back to medieval times
where he is king and innocent of any crimes.
With money and power comes absolute rule
and the masses below are part of the fuel.
Clinging to the folly of his wild and radical whims
with no plan or agenda in place he would begin
The cry rings out
to those with doubt -
Off with their heads
lost be democracy's last thread.
He would be king, believe me he would
if it were possible he surely could.