Long Maims Poems
Long Maims Poems. Below are the most popular long Maims by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Maims poems by poem length and keyword.
I saw in her eyes the sallowness of festered love.
My drum had beaten to the resonance of celebration,
Of the deeds of love evaluation.
Her art bemuses me, especially when spoken and
Sketched to the rhythms of assayed hollowness –
Mottled balances echo silently on withered spots,
And the words she cherishes lie way below frontiers of enchantment.
How short my éclat reigned!
And my blood congealed!
Do I lay prostrate to hypoxia?
If I could borrow a leaf from her, I trust it would be the leaf of Love.
And on the edge of skewered times, I would lend the fit of
Pyrokinesis, cauterizing the inclement weather of her deception.
There’s that culture shock which love carries.
It kills and maims, yet lays crusts of veneer on one’s
Premeditated ego, pointing skyward like the finial of
Root-pannelled structure of breathless architecture.
My heart aches to the illusion of several months borne
Through the whim of my angel.
I wake on the brim of her nose.
Her eyes are grey and distant.
Rust besieges her hair with sliced threads of extended harvests.
I level up to her art with a hamster tied to the loose
Slivers of bamboo elements – with a repast so heartlessly
Soured by the sun.
I lean beneath her iron door, long loosened by the courage
Of assembled art.
My heart bleeds.
She lied to me.
As slimy as the mucilage of the okra,
I have shed genuine light of her hidden treasure.
And on a dark, vengeful night on the corridors of April,
Saturn, spinning her icy rings, revealed much.
And her love, deep and garish, traces peregrinations of
A hunter’s search through wooded paths, rain-drenched and musty.
From the shebeen to the sacristy.
The village church bell peals to the beat of my heart – a heart so deceived.
The gloom, structured in gossamer, binds me, haunts me.
Red banners of camwood yield to the moist of invaded space,
Tenebrous, and soused with the tears of a fallen roof.
Flaking tongues of prurient monsters lick my toes in noisy flicks....
God, where have I been?
In hidden trails, away from the noise's claim,
Where tranquil whispers weave the tale of peace,
The path winds through the woods without a cease,
Amidst the solitude, a silent frame.
Here, splashing birds and water, nature's game,
Compose a symphony that doesn't cease,
Their melody, a soothing soft release,
A sacred verse that no discordance maims.
The rustling leaves, a chorus in the breeze,
Reveal the secrets of this hallowed ground,
Where serenity reigns and worries cease,
A sanctuary where pure joys are found.
These trails reveal a world so pure, so true,
Where hidden nature sings its song for you.
In hidden trails, away from the noise's claim,
Where tranquil whispers weave the tale of peace,
The path winds through the woods without a cease,
Amidst the solitude, a silent frame.
Here, splashing birds and water, nature's game,
Compose a symphony that doesn't cease,
Their melody, a soothing soft release,
A sacred verse that no discordance maims.
The rustling leaves, a chorus in the breeze,
Reveal the secrets of this hallowed ground,
Where serenity reigns and worries cease,
A sanctuary where pure joys are found.
These trails reveal a world so pure, so true,
Where hidden nature sings its song for you.
in the hidden trails
wind whispers serenade peace
solitude.. silence
splashing birds and water.. rustling leaves.. sing a soothing soft song for you
Shedang, huntress of the forest, it is said that her arrows are true.
A protector of deer, squirrels, and other wildlife; her quiver will do.
Is she an entity or someone created by the wildlife of the trees?
I wonder as I walk through the forest, accompanied by a soft breeze.
Is it true she can leap from branch to branch, from elm to oak?
I have heard so much about her from the Germanic folk.
She maims the hunters, rarely kills them, the storytellers say.
I have heard this story since I was a child from those who were gray.
She is bewitched, some say. She can hear you coming from the lake.
I listened to these stories, and my knees began to jive and quake.
She sounded dangerous to me, it made me want to never hunt.
My grandpa kept inviting me, but I got a ball and asked him to punt.
Watch out for Shedang, they warned, don’t even step on the ‘shrooms.
She could easily fly out of a tree, and get you with arrows that zoom.
I saw her sitting way up high in a maple polishing arrows last spring.
Averted my eyes, and went back down the trail, without hurting a thing.
One damaged cell can divide until it kills.
For in the end we pay the rich man’s bills.
The air polluted ravages and maims
Now it’s cruelly late to curse and blame
Oh sister how we played with our dolls’ prams
In our industrial town there were no lambs.
No sheep could safely graze in smokey streets.
No lark would rise amazed, the dawn to greet.
For you my sister breathed in that bad air
We hear the tread, the foot steps on the stair.
So patient stil, I wish that you would shout.
From your eye I see one tear fall out.
My single sister I can see your pain
Your lips are dry you cough and cough again.
Your mouth is hurting so you cannot eat.
And on the telephone you barely speak
In the world some million others groan
Yes we’re fragile merely flesh and bone
Even so the tears run in my sleep.
Into my face these tears will slowly seep.
I didn’t grasp at first that she would die
And leave me here alone to curse and cry
Hold me in your arms my kindly friends.
From your touch a little peace descends
Published by Katherine
View all posts by Katherine
Post navigation
Bogeyman, Bogeyman you come again
My night of hope screams for crumbs to eat
I'm iust a boy needing a few coins
Offering old tin cup to rich men on the lane.
Cold my body wrapped like soiled paper,
Echoing my plea for mercy or grace
Yet, I'm bypassed like a rag, a nameless tag,
While you laugh at my dingy fate, mocking
A young life's poverty... I bellow of angst
Instead of helping me learn in school,
Your trace of arrogance maims my bones
Do vou know how hard it is to sleep in the rain?
Bogeyman. Bogeyman... one day, you just might
Take my place, and hear not the echo
Of kindness reverberating from heaven's call.
10/27/2016
For The Seeker's Being Homeless Contest
He's a WORD Casanova
He butters them up
Gives sips from his cup
words syrupy sweet
a tasty love treat
makes the girls swoon
to his sensual croon
The Word Casanova
His words are his charm
they dismantle alarm
“sugar and spice”
and they gush..."OH…SO... NICE!"
Demanding submission
to his domination
He metes out a rule
and watches them drool
The Word Casanova
The thing that's obscene
In his plan, in his scheme
He plays and he preys
as his trap there he lays
he wants every one
each heart must be won
Not content to befriend
Wants much more in the end...
The Word Casanova
So he hurts and he maims
And they writhe as he blames...
Ladies….LADIES!!
It's just a game...a GAME
What a shame!
The Word Casanova
This is a poem I wrote some time ago but deleted when I was considering leaving this place. I'm slowly reposting my deleted poems. I'm fully aware that a woman can play this role as well....a Casanovette! It is not gender specific
So small in stature
Sitting at the table of empty
"If I can catch her in attitude
I'll make her eat every penny"
Beat, beat, beat, beat her down
Never let her shine
"I am my beloved's
And He is mine"
...His banner over me is LOVE
Take her possessions
Take her house
"I'll take her position
And kick her out"
Blind, halt, naked
Ashamed and afraid
"I'll prove her a liar
A product of what LOVE has made"
...Isolation...Framed...Glory~Mamed
Running in the wilderness
A pack of wolves in pursuit
"I'll take her hope
So she'll know LOVE collects loot"
She's at the edge
We can't let her escape
"I will give her deception
Waiting at the Pearly gate"
...Nakedness is out of season
........all your suffering has no reason
"I will answer you
With a mighty sword
I see you clearly through the fire
You lust after the fuel
Of my WORD
That blasts forth LOVE's desire
...........to choose
My nakedness scares
Your insecurity
My love, in spite of pain
Maims your assurity
...in program
When you sit
At the Table of Plenty
Rest in the TRUTH
You are empty
ONLY LOVE IS FULL
...........and receives alllllllll GLORY"
Written by Trudy Schrader on 09-18-2023
Fire, fire, countless fires
Fire of hate that nobody admires
Fire that hurts, maims and kills and innocent victims
Fire that burns, cremates and destroys many buildings
Fire that is misused
Fire that is diffused
Countries with more firepower rule
A gangster with a heavy fire is used as a fool
As a deadly instrument or tool to bully
To murder and to eliminate potential enemies
Fires of hate, fires of hell that kill families
Fire, fires, uncontrollable fires on the sea
Fire, natural fires in California
Fire, deadly fires in Gaza
More fire, more power, more firepower
More power, more fire and more back-asswards power
Fire in the kitchen to cook gourmet food, delicious dinner
At the fancy cocktail hour
That’s my kind of fire, that’s good fire
Fire, fire, and ceasefire! Nobody wants war
Because war is hate, war is hell at the bar
War is nothing but an evil fire
War is not a game. War is not natural
War is a disaster. War is a man-made hell
War is a waste of human lives and resources
More water to kill all of fires and all sources
The world needs good fire to protect the environment
The world wants peace throughout the continent
God created One World, One People and One Race
And man invented division and many races in this space
Man created nepotism, money, hate, envy, discrimination
Terrorism, color, greed, betrayal, suffering and corruption
Fire, fires, ceasefire! We need rain, more water to quench the fire
We need Love to annihilate hate and more love to fire
The evil leaders that are destroying our World, our Universe
We want Peace and good fire for our World, for Our Universe.
Copyright © January 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Spartan was a wicked task
Full unmasked the evil presence
Violence against a brother rewarded
Quick the silencer will reap
For no value kills another
Yet the process lumbers on
In the wood and city streets
Another victim preyed upon
How shall we make amends?
By the precepts of His laws?
The balance greater drifting onward
Sees the shifting of relief
One cannot help but cry aloud
For violence continues to this day
So when you see a fallen one
Ask what price demanded Him to pay?
So Baltimore the place of honor
Chicago maims not far behind
"To each his own" the saying goes
Some recompense repaid each time