Long Knock Poems
Long Knock Poems. Below are the most popular long Knock by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Knock poems by poem length and keyword.
The flowers are sagging in the garden waiting patiently for another spring but the heat has dried out the substance within and my soul is living off the moisture in the inner world, it is where my heart seeks refuge when the external world is filled with unexpected grief and tears are washing the hopeless street; nature is budding new leaves but each time you beat them off the trees, the fruits on the trees cannot ripe because you pick them before they receive the sunlight, oh what abundance awaits you, oh what prudence is watching you, the trust that I have in you ,has cement the love that I have for you but the serpent is wrapped around the tree, looking for a chance to puncture your dignity and each time it makes a move I was just in time to clip its tale and it cannot go further than the root of the tree that’s its final destiny. When nature weeps mankind will run up and down the street, howling like dogs in the middle of the night looking for the next half that is nowhere in the dark, when nature weeps you will moan and groan and pack your bags and leave the town, when nature weeps it will knock you off your high seat and water will flood the streets; When nature weeps the storm will blow down the trees and teach you how to care, something’s are of man but most of it are from the supernatural realm and you must know the difference between them least it take you by surprise and you cannot survive. When nature weeps it will break your pride and you will know about the realistic life. How did you get on my list when you have not learn the basic, you have just arrived and you have not learnt how to survive, you have to pass all of life’s test or the devil will not let you rest; the story is not about you, you are all walking in the beggar man’s shoe, your ambitions are too high and you will all fall down before you reach the sky, you have got to walk on another street and observe how nature weeps, it burdens are very heavy and the clouds are not happy, when nature weeps it is a sign that you must leave.
They found me hiding under the stairwell
There were three or four of them,
I couldn’t really tell
They used chloroform to knock me out
They placed it over my nose and mouth
When I came to, my eyes felt like lead
My head pounded and my nose bled
They gagged me and sat me down on a broken wooden chair
They burnt chunks out of my hair
The room was dark, not a drizzle of light
There were too many of them, for me to fight
I couldn’t scream, I tried to shout
No words came out of my mouth
My face was swollen, my lips dry
I could not move and I didn’t know why
Shots were fired in the air
Sounds of scrambling everywhere
They fled the scene as fast as they could
And left me to die in this dangerous neighborhood.
Winter Withers
…… its way into the woods
and waits….and wonders….and watches
until…. No-one is looking.
Boorishly, an ally introduces itself,
an iced-sliced wind to quiver-shiver
the woods’ most tender saplings;
to shudder the aged evergreens
with sharpened, encrusted crystals
sandpapering the toughest, roughest bark.
Weather warning complete,
Winter then crunches forward,
cold shouldering its way through the night
to finally rest against a solitary cabin.
Inside that logged shelter, Man awakens
allowing his thoughts freedom
from the waiting room of his mind.
Man has learned how to listen,
but much more importantly,
this man has listened how to learn!
What he now sharply tells himself is…
Winter has arrived; survival demands action.
Man has lived for a year with Mother Nature
after his severance with city life;
he now feels a yearning for the three R’s:
reconnecting, refiguring and relocating.
Man can’t allow Winter’s weathered wings
to embrace him with glacial isolation
nor allow its benumbed playmate… Loneliness
to knock, again, on that fragile, front door.
Ian Souter
Have you been disrespected?
Do you feel inhumanely rejected?
Is disappointment reflected?
Is it time to pay them back
For their unprovoked attack
Since it is forgiveness
That you lack
Do you feel justified
For the violence
You applied
To coincide
For the satisfaction
Of your reaction
Does it feel good
To meltdown
And show your misunderstood
Or do you regret your actions
And wish to take it back if you could
What compels us
In our revenge
Why is it delicious
To feed our need to be vicious
When it comes to self satisfaction of a slight
Why, the perpetuation of the need to be right
Does it matter to you or your ego
That needs to be stroked
Or is it simply the embarrassment
That needs to be cloaked
They say it's better to turn the other cheek
But for most
It appears as a display of the weak
But if you look deeper you will see
The power of forgiveness
Is a gift of the meek
A skill that we should all seek
Retribution is a vile course
Something for your soul to divorce
While looking for remorse
From the only source
Worth searching for
God
The keeper of eternity's door
Will you knock?
Or be lost evermore?
Eric (and sometimes not)
toss anger, he said
into the bin of waste
waste not mankind’s love
with abuse and bite
the bullet skies
high the eagle flies
why not the steeple
less with feathers flocked
why not the pews on
threadbare knees
that knock and palms
close touch of closed
and ethereal eyes, in shock
of amazing blue, far above
the whizzing bell of shots
some fell, some rise
both have a knell and sigh
anger flung like monkey dung
lay upon the sheetrock roof
its lies are born and cradled
evil has a childhood, is able
to wean and crawl, to fall
toss anger, he spoke
to the deaf and blind
they never woke nor wised
up. six feet downer done
swept into the bin of waste
a godforsaken life
Patrice Chaves, the scammer
Worried about my wife's declining health
I looked for ways to make some money
to be able to hire home help
I got an email through a person who, as it turned out
didn't exist
Investing in gift cards was a good thing to do
I sent Patrice Shaves the cards he needed, but
On the day of payout, the postman didn't knock
He needs 500 euros more, but on the day of payout
No post arrived, as Patrice Shaves needed them.
more to pay me for sure, I knew he was a scammer
and broke contact with him
Weeks later, he wrote me again and offered friendship
The nerve of the man, he told me, had bought stamps
400 euros, all I needed to do was to pay 100 euros
and everything would be squared
I didn't send him money, but I was curious how a man like
He spends his time telling lies upon lies
When I asked him about himself, he became furious
His life was none of my business; I had hit his sore points
He broke the contact.
Doing business on the internet is fraught.
I tried to send my final manuscript, Intense Memory, to a publisher
and came in contact with Hillshire Medium, who took the job for
400 euros upfront, I sent the money
But lately, that publisher has stopped answering my emails
I can only conclude that this, too, is another scam
I no longer care to be published. I have several sites that take
who take itake in my work, after all, being published or not
It's about vanity
What’s this heavy weight? If I could see it,
I would launch it from my chest.
Do I not deserve a reason for cradling such a thing?
Do my shallow breaths not catch your attention?
When my arms begin to slacken,
Could you not offer a deterrent?
Do you observe me with a biased gaze?
A wry smile at your lips, for the final heave.
Tell me why I suffer, you created me,
I can not fufill a purpose that eludes me.
How many years? Can you not give me that?
Am I to stay subjugated?
When my arms begin to crumble,
Will you ready a noose in their stead?
And when that begins to splinter and break,
Will my heart be next?
Do you think it fit to anchor it to my soul,
When all else fails?
Can I get a reaction from you?
Or do my words fall flat at your feet…
Would you strike out at them to knock the wind from me?
Is that what I just felt?
Why is my load so heavy and unyielding,
When people around me breathe so freely.
Am I to balance the weight of the world?
Joy- I understand the concept,
But is that all I paid you for?
Can I not sample it, or would you cut out my tongue
And leave only the metallic taste for me to savour?
Still… You say nothing.
Well enough of your silence, now it is I who am bored.
Watch, as I free your claim of me.
If I die, I’m blessed to be rid of all.
Can you feel the strings go taught under my grasp?
Can you feel the chaos, soon to be a promise.
No longer will I let my questions be unrewarding
I gave you faith and carried your burden,
Now have it back.
Form:
To enter the room, without a knock, and getting surprised by what they find,
Or moaning there’s no food in the house; surely they’re not that blind
They leave their clothes all over the floor and refuse to clean up their room,
And then use my expensive moisturiser, stealing all of my stuff to groom.
Teens confuse You-Tube and texting for study and training thinking this will get them a job,
And then expecting money from me every day, even though they live like a slob.
Teens live happy with their own little rules, thinking the world revolves around them,
Believing songs with swearing, whining and cursing are, like, super mega awesome.
Using phrases like “I’m gonna do this or that” always ending with nothing quite happening,
They’re words, they’re nice comfortable words, but to adults they’re really quite maddening.
But then we think about the days of yore, when the world seemed so much bigger.
Teens have heaps of other things like the net, so much more for them to consider.
So the teen has a lot of things on their plate like world wars, world peace, and their mates,
Like how can they ever earn some serious money and still go out on their dates.
Forgive the teen, understand they’re naive, and they just want to make their mark.
Some manners are nice, but most’ll need help so please just light up the dark.
Live in my heart, rent-free
Now and forever more.
Don't stay out in the cold;
Make yourself feel at home,
For its as good as gold.
Live in my heart, rent-free.
Don't knock, just come right in
To a place very safe,
To a place you belong,
To a heart that's fail safe.
Live in my heart, rent-free.
Flow into me, my sweet,
Like most gentle of streams.
My heart is a refuge;
It's where love's bright light gleams.
Live in my heart, rent-free.
There's enough room for you;
Stay as long as you wish!
You possess the sole key;
There, our love shall flourish.
APRIL SHOWERS
April showers, not beautiful at all.
Umbrella rent though it was filled with love.
The leaves, like tears, deteriorate, fall.
Looking...Reaching...for comfort from above.
Consolation interrupted. Oh death!
It takes my father’s eyes to unseen depths.
He lets me stare though I can’t find her breath.
They mirrored each other’s souls; thief robbed his wealth.
To seek and find, to knock and open book.
Faith! Victory! I don’t feel it — her pulse.
Devotion’s years...welting of tears. I look
For words of comfort on each page — Christ’s pulse.
Our tears in jars of ash. He paid in blood.
Christ’s resurrection repairing grief’s flood.
5/15/2021