Long Knife Poems

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


Prey In a Cage

I behold the rose in bloom, and I cry,
I weep and I wail, then I sigh.
As the night draws in, my painful thoughts begin to wake, 
I retreat into my mind and with fear I do shake.

Your clammy hand on my neck, your touch just like lead,
I close my eyes so you will go, you bury further in my bed.
I know I’m worthless, but please do not hurt,
And I try not to scream as you begin to insert.

The deed almost done, your sneer of disgust,
Your toes curl as we prepare for the final thrust.
You roar with delight, I exhale with relief,
My virginity now taken by a wretched old thief.

The memory still haunts, and the damage goes on,
I unravel the silk cloth that my knife lays upon.
Slowly but surely destruction is on its way,
I fear for my soul, but my body must pay.

Anticipation takes hold, and the blade does its work,
I press firmly down, blood appears with a jerk. 
Is this the pleasure I've longed to have?
And a voice deep within screams "YES! ONE MORE JAB".

I am so frail, my young flesh so weak,
I can not go on, for my virginity he did seek.
The cold steel blade tattoos my white maiden flesh,
And the untouched skin becomes like wheat for the thresh.

I must abate, I must restrain,
This is the only way I mask the pain.
My eyes glaze over, my body feels weightless,
Each stroke is a prayer, and every cut a caress.

The guests have arrived, my relief has been fleeting,
He stands there staring, my heart is beating.
He looks at me inquisitively, mouth gaping,
And my mother knows not that her brother likes raping.

His gaze upon me, I'm his gift to unwrap,
He would rip me open and toss me like scrap.
I wish he would vanish and leave me in peace,
But his lust won’t be sated, and on me he would feast.
 
My legs are so withered, and my wheelchair’s a cage,
I wish that man in the Skoda didn’t have road rage.
I guess I should be grateful I can’t feel a thing,
But my mind is alive and every inch of him stings.
 
He gives me a present and pretends to be nice,
But don’t be fooled, it comes at a price.
He wheels me outside for a fresh of breath air,
When no one is watching he sniffs at my hair.
 
I wish I could lash out with my thin spastic legs,
But they are as useful as ice-cube clothes pegs.
I hope my diary doesn’t land in the wrong hands,
And if you’re reading this now then I’ve suck-cummed to his plans.

- Anonce
Form: Ballad


Bleeding

You were the reason I could live through the strife,
You kept it from feeling like a stab with a knife.
Affection’s what I needed to make it through,
The kind of true love that I shared only with you.
That’s how I felt until one day,
You decided its better to throw it away.

The four months with you went by so fast,
Now I dread how long each day will last.
We would joke about me being locked in a tower,
Yet that’s how I feel without your power.

In a poem you wrote you said I am caffeine,
Now I know how you felt, I know what you mean.
As I was to you, you were also to me,
It just took losing you for me to see.

Having no you is like having no air,
You felt the same now it seems you don’t care.
A while ago you said you’ve fallen for me hard,
Now I sit here on the ground, I fell but I got scarred.

Before that night I thought we’d endure,
This was a fact, I was totally sure.
Then it came with your words that you unfold,
That you don’t want to see what our future will hold.
I promised to care for you through the thick and thin,
But now you've made that chance to be slim.

When was the last you listened to our song,
The way I find us now tells me it has been too long.
Remembering the times you’d say “I love you”,
Now I look back to find none of it’s true.
No one could love you as much as I,
I’ll keep our moments until I die.
I clearly remember those times we had,
Now they fade with you, I feel nothing but sad.

But what kills me the most was the look in your face,
What I had to look at when all this took place.
No frown, no sniffs, not a tear in your eye,
Even though it felt like I was ‘bout to die.
I had to stay strong and hold back all my tears,
All in the meanwhile being told my worst fears.
You said you would always love me so,
Though now I feel your love ceases to grow.

I sit here holding what’s left of my heart,
It slips through my fingers as it falls apart.
Now I look back at what seems a mistake,
But you’re the mistake I was glad to make,
The kind of mistake I would always make,
Even though it ends in my heartache. 

Poetry from the heart you showed me to write,
And now it haunts me of that dismal night.
Though I know I’m not perfect and neither are you,
When we were together I felt that not true.
My life had no order but I was gaining control,
But now my heart’s left with a dark gaping hole.
Form:

Hypnotized

Is slavery dead? Honestly it isn’t
Those of us who conform are stuck within a prison
We follow celebrities and we wear their clothes
As if they are Gods and we are mere mortals

As if they are shepherds and we are merely sheep
As if they are they are the strong and we are the weak
We quote their words and become their clones
And if we break their trend, we are left alone

And as they pass, we shower them with gifts
Money, so they can go and get their face lifts
Fame, so they can go out and conquer more slaves
Power, so they can destroy those who call them fake

They’ve brainwashed us so much we’ve gone completely numb
We openly cheer when the hero pulls out his gun
We don’t understand that we’re all completely mindless
We’re overjoyed only if the screen shows senseless violence

Nearby a police officer fights for his life
As a drug dealer tries to stab him with a butterfly knife
We’d call for help, but we’re busy with our own stuff
Discussing how the movie was good, but the killing wasn’t realistic enough

Our emotions are gone, we are all just droids
We don’t cry when we hear about a little boy
Who was killed in a shooting by a merciless gang
Because his father was part of the Ku Klux Klan

Instead we just shrug and respond “That’s the world today.”
“His father was an idiot,” is all that most people can say
“Things happen for a reason. That’s the Lord’s way.”
But that night, for that boy, everyone forgets to pray

We watch a few minutes of the news, not because we want to know
Coming up next is the new hit reality show
We’d rather watch girls dancing and grinding on each other
Instead of observing a woman work two jobs and be a good mother

And if disaster strikes, we observe the destruction and pain
The details of the damaged are extensively explained
But money only comes to charities with writing on the bag
The money must be packaged with a rich man’s name tag

So when the people see, they will remember what his mask looks like
He only cares if he’s quoted saying, “They will be all right.”
And with that, his money, fame, and power grows
And in the next election, it could even win him more votes

Learn to break the chains, learn to set yourself free
Your eyes are open, but you must learn to see
Don’t drink their potion. Don’t let them inside
Don’t stare at the pendulum too long or you’ll be hypnotized

Twilight's Raimants In Blues


                As two, hearts dance the embrace of a fire,
                 plucking your heartstings as a lyre
          Distrust, lies, eclipses love's satellite true- natal 
                loon, into a suicide hot air balloon ride! 
    Moves aside bend of light, chooses, 
          side, of a dark malignant side of moon !

   In the twilight hour blues, 
where passions softly stir,
emotions start to blur, turn sour,
painting pleasure in the night maw to devour two

In the depths of the night, a solitary light wound
casts a shadows upon the heart, 
where darkness slowly seeps through

With every stolen kiss, a crescendo of desire,
a symphony of emotions that sets souls afire
Strings of anticipation strum 
in rhythmic delight tuned to
caressing secrets, where fantasies abide, nude


Signs, who, hides moons of the truest kind! 
O a tale apart
Moves side winds, breath of the dark arts, 
to align into hearts maligned 

arms folded in death to make with 
as a stolen kiss ignites a flame,
like a symphony, our hearts fall prey to again 
be betwixt in the game

With every stolen kiss, a crescendo of desires, 
hollows,
a symphony of emotions that sets 
souls adrift from the shallows
In passions dance in the shadows, 
at Night, where secrets cannot hide their gallows 
from the ghouls that preside in it's marrow

In a tale ripped apart...
every 'plete of your heart 
Strings of anticipation strum in 
rhythmic delight tune 
turns to the knife of sacrificial rite

In the twilight raimant so blue, where passions fly,
the jolly roger of motley fools,
selling the fine line
sailing the live mines

Embracing the darkness' essence, 
a tale yet for reason
harmonies of ecstasy reaching 
a breathtaking peak of reasoning


Oh, the cadence of desire, intoxicating and divine,
as crescendos rise and fall, our spirits intertwine
a symphony of emotions, wild and misconstrued,
leaving souls aflame, forever marked, 
for death do you sever
apart partaking your
passions dance in the shadows, 
at Night, where secrets cannot hide to
desires lever toggle with every touch, new,
every sight of slight or bruise

Urban decay of a dream, 
dream theater of a tragedy 
playing looped scene

In the Twilight raimant so blue
With every beat of your heart
Moves side winds, choose, sides, 
with a dark maligned tune
art
Form: Rhyme

Halloween

I’m sitting in a dark, nothing but a T.V. on.
I’m watching horror movies, or am I watching paint dry.
I see people, I see faces, but I still can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched.
A scream I hear, I chalk it up to the T.V.
A rat-tat-tat, on the door, only to see no one,
I’m not sure I even moved.
I’ve been sleep deprived for days, but today, on the most holy of holy days,
I cannot sleep.
Today is a day of celebration.
For once, the evil, the dark, the macabre, it’s celebrated.
My interest aren’t looked down on, they are praised.
I think to myself, maybe I should makes something, to commemorate
the occasion.
I step to the kitchen, pull out a knife, and begin carving the first thing in sight.
Tonight, it was a pig.
I think last year it was like a bumble-bee or something, I don’t know, it was making a lot of noise and I just wanted some peace.
Either way, after trimming the fat, I had to clean up a bit.
The phrase, bleeding like a stuck pig, totally true.
Blood got everywhere, this is gonna take so much bleach to clean.
So I shove it in the oven, mouth watering at the thought of the sandwich I’m gonna make when it comes out.
I knew animals fought,
But this one fought like it really didn’t wanna be dinner.
I just hit it with the pumpkin it carried.
A few hours pass, and the pig is done.
I trim off the hair, and then the skin.
I can’t stand the skin, so stretchy and not tasty.
It’s like eating elastic, or a shirt or something stupid like that.
Either way, I peel back the skin-and I indulge myself.
Normally I go for the entrails first, but tonight is special.
I go straight for the brains.
So tasty, with just a tinge or copper, or was it iron, I’m not sure
Either way, it was salty, and metallic, and delicious.
I only treat myself to this kind of meal on the special days of the year,
You know the days I’m talking about
Easter, July 4th, tonight
Those days, they are wonderful
So yeah, the screams were annoying, but they stopped now
All that I hear is some laughing, and my own noise
Tap-tap-tap-squish
Tap-tap-squish-tap
It felt divine.
Then it all ended, someone said my time was up.
That pig’s blood went everywhere
Everywhere. It was intense
After all of that, I’m back in front of the T.V.
I’m really not sure if it was a T.V. or a wall.
The first thing I remember other than that night,
Was asking the guards if I could watch Silence of the Lambs on Halloween.


The Paranoia

Deep within the world so modern,
Lies a hidden road not trodden,
That states the obvious truth be told,
Printed in ink black and bold,

That lost in worlds of ecstasy,
Trapped in snares of misery,
That wars the rumors be told they sneered,
Now not alive a bray a’bird,

Gone are thoughts that thinketh straight,
And now to turn back it's O’so late,
Truth is gone, and truths be’come,
Lies run wild thru’ Urb and slum,

Prove me wrong this not happen,
But wrong they are yet shamelessly clappin’,
All so jolly good way they are,
From the Truth they stay afar,

Given in to the delusions be,
These strange worlds move so surreally,
That eats place a first a crown,
And Wannabe’s laze and fuss arroun’,

Talks about this and that and all that’s good,
Ney earn their money and cry for food,
When not given they stage a protest,
What they think is unjust!

But truth be told they sloth all day,
Sit around and laze away,
Their youths burnt dry, so willfully done,
When the brave reproaches them, they rant and away they run,

Sad to see, this is our reality,
Where all but’s none have time for thee,
Where life’s no respect and death appraise,
No wonder! They fit in with Artemis’ ways,

Tis’ are days of Noah’s time,
Filled with false hate and unwanted slime,
The hot is cold and the cold is hot,
They should be left to these ways to rot,

For no amount of reproach or preaching change they,
They want to remain that way,
So, let it be and move on in life,
Find a place to settle, build a home with your wife,

But when they come, O’Brave men of life,
To scandal your family and toss the knife,
Don’t debate them in anyway by words,
Take up your weapon and massacre they featherless birds,

Let them cry foul, whine and weep,
For they are into misery so deep, even the good that they do is evil so steep,
Let it be, let it be and protect your families,
From these so called ‘Justice Warriors of all the Sissies.’

What is well, when men of old just a teen,
Went to war for freedom’s freeing,
No scandal was found heard, no loose talk in the winds,
They wives waited for them, rather than sinned!

But if now one were off, to fight for justice cause,
In their absence does much spend, party’s all that splend.
Not all I say that way be done but are true, true indeed to none,
Tis’ a tragedy with my pen and ink I write and run.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Caregiver On the Brink

Bone-drained, there is no respite, no split second of peace.  The “sundowner”, a hyper-active toddler in a man’s vehicle, never sleeps nor sits.
When I succumb to that one precious moment of rest; I am awakened to a furnace running full blast in a freezing cold house and on a nineteen degree night.  A butter knife has removed a window; the culprit and dementia-mind panics; he’s terrified of being trapped in a fire.  There’s no arguing with dementia-mind; it’s best to play along with the his ideas.

Another day of madness and I awake to a frantically screeching doorbell; it’s his nurse.   I've revived in the floor.  A migraine faint pulled me down; I’ve had no sleep for eight nights, you see.  Sweet respite…she says she’ll, “sit with him”, so I can lie down a bit; a pleasant miracle; such happenstance is a rarity.  

Dementia-mind has no solutions, only hallucinations, delusions; absence of mind and aggression for the “sundowners”.  I watch at breakfast, as he pours his milk upon the floor; he has no clue of what he is doing or why; 
he stares, mindless.   When the eyes go blank it’s obvious; he’s not in there.  A robot gone haywire, used to be my Father.  The last thing to go, were his mathematical skills.  Dementia-mind has forgotten so many people; how to swallow, but recalls numbers…

“Who is that man?” he demands, pointing at himself in the mirror.  My exhausted mind briefly forgets and I mistakenly reply, “You dad.”  The firestorm is initiated; he calls me a, “liar”.  Self recognition has failed him now; the flame of his mind is burning low; soon to extinguish.

He’s fed and dressed, but I’ve no time to eat; if he should sleep an hour today; I must cook for the week.  It’s the only opportunity I have…when and if he sleeps.  I must not go to the bathroom; he’ll break something or fall.  I must hold myself until my sister arrives.

The “passives” are painful to watch, as they deteriorate, but the “sundowners” are constant exhaustion.  I was in the ER, almost as much as, he.  You see, there’s no one to care for the caregiver, but themselves and when they can’t, exhaustion and malnutrition escalate.  Dementia-mind is round-the-clock work and two doing the work of six people, takes its’ toll.  The disease never discriminates; it destroys everyone.

(My Father died with dementia, a form of Alzheimer's in 2003, after a 15 year battle.)
Form: Narrative

I'M Not Sure You Know What To Say

I wonder today
As I sift through the sands
And peer through the depths of other peoples verbalized talents
Works of intricate emotion and stanzas of hyperboles oxymoron’s and similes 
and metaphor

When I refuse to welcome you to my world
When you stumbled all this way
And I show you how to clip an angel’s wings
and you relate to the angel
Even though you have soo many inner demons
I’m not sure you know what to say

So I sit here in the silence
And stutter to myself
I lay in bed at night and talk to myself
I hang pictures on the wall to inspire me to push me
and listen to things that will drive me to become another
But when you open this chapter of the metaphor I will upon your sleeve
When you walk through that open door
And are not too sure of what I mean to my soul mate when I say
that one day in heaven his experience will be a love note from me

I'm not sure you know what to say

Soo many of you are of few words
and soo few of you are of many
The angels are soo far away
And the four demons, my invisible enemies
are always on this merry go round
too busy to stop the roller caster where I find myself
Dizzy I am
Confused I am
Abstract and bizarre
Creatively thrown away by my fairytale godmother I dream
To remind me
I am a man of some higher power god
And instant gratification isn’t necessarily what I need
from the race of a reflection that doesn’t understand why it cowers
Instead of receives

While I clip the angels and fool the demons with the thoughts
and words of the wise and how I hate more than you
You become my poetry with hearts on your sleeve 
a valentine I cant send demanding healthcare 
for Christmas before all we get is Halloween
But when your eyes roll back into your head
and you try to resurrect what I express and bring me to life
through twisting my words that cut like a knife and carve marble stone
into gargoyles that guard castle gates
In this royal palace where no compass will help you find your way
and my thought seem soo far away
The feathers fall to the floor
The soldiers look down at their weapons realizing they are still little boys 
but intoxicated now and forced to the realization 
This is how we raised them to be men with awards for serial killing 
Of stars and stripes

I'm not sure you know what to say

The Crying Wild Creatures

THE CRYING WILD CREATURES.
Nzongi Mwero.
Oh, we recall the bygone times,
The days of the golden past,
That chirping with our merry mates,
Flying around the parks,
Gone the joys of the nests,
That freedom restrained,
Coming at our will in parks,
But hindered and chained in the parks.

Oh, we feel painted at our hearts when we recall,
The scene in the parks unsmiling,
No glistering dew drops from the trees,
All big trees were cut down,
We can’t forget that lovely shape of the parks,
That endearing our faces.

Oh, life was real nice in the vernal shade,
Oh, we miss the sweet voices of our brothers in the parks,
Would that we had the strength to break the predators,
What a bad luck have we?
Can we pine for another park?
Brothers let us think of the weapons and tactics,
That we could escape from poachers and predators.

My friend Antelope- You can use your speed in retreating,
You Tortoise- Use your shield or bomb shelter,
My friend Chameleon- You can use the camouflage,
You Porcupine- Please use your swords or bayonets,
My friend Snake- Use your poisoned knife,
You Stunk- Please Use your tear gas or poison gas,
My friend Octopus- Use your smoke screen,
You Electric Eel- Please Use your electric shock,
Then my friend Gecko- You can Use your diversionary tactics,
And finally me Elephant I will Use my tusks.
Everyone has a duty to perform his defensive way,
To deal with poachers and predators,
But still human beings have more brains,
They know how to trap us,
We plead those with good hearted to protect us.

Parks are our shelters,
Rivers are our shelters,
Oceans and lakes are our shelters,
Trees are our shelters,
The land is our shelters.

Oh, we beg you do not harm us,
You live on land- You live on land,
You drink water from the rivers –We live and drink that water,
You get medicine from trees- We live and eat those trees,
You collect foreign money from the parks- We live in the parks,
You use oceans and lakes to travel –We live in those waters.

Oh, we are all world creatures,
Why are you killing us for meat?
Why are you destroying the parks?
Why are you contaminating the waters?
Why are you cutting down trees?
Why are you burning the land we live?
Why are you hunting us for more money?
And already you are getting foreign money due to us,
Please stop hunting us or destroying our shelters.

POETIC MIRRORS

 
{ “Awareness : He began to decipher the instant that he was living, deciphering as he lived it, prophesying himself in the act of deciphering the last page of the parchments, as if he were looking into a speaking mirror.” - 
Gabriel Garcia Marques }

_________________


Poetic Mirrors

Who is Shams and who Rumi                                                          
is like asking who is fork and who knife                                    when apart they sing not a single song                                
to nourish my blood with verse and love

I, mercurial reflect                                    
                                                                                                      
Who is mirror and who reflection                                            
Is that me ? I ask you                                                                      
watching your slender bones                                                
move in soiled leather boots                                                              
your wild slow eyes reflecting YES !                                              
when a maiden across the room                                              
gives a wicked laugh of NO !   

I, mercurial translate                                                        
                                                                                                      
Who is this dissident beret alongside me ?                            
Is it me ahead on a future road .....                                                  
will someone stroke my back                                                         
give me ear, lip or cheek                                                                                   
urging my body to be young in                                                  
takkies and snazzy chamois jacket ?  

I, mercurial question

Aah ! Poetic Mirrors ! 
writing reciting assessing                                                               
give respite from a million images of Self                                  
as I circle an unveiled Flow of Fate                                               
fully awake to naked                                                                      
poet 

I, mercurial observe
catalytic

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