Long Mauls Poems

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


Shadow Play

Evening turns to mime -
you emerge from its cameo artistry,
your dark unraveled hair cajoles
in a lamp shaded theater.

Moments clash together.
A denuding madness is ungloved,
a palpable heat mauls.

Long into the cleaving night
unsheathed and reckless,
flesh sings its serpentine songs,
waterfalls plunge into unleashed rapids,
hard ridden gestures
disown all gentle speech.

After the blood blushed tangle,
a listless languor.
We listen to the footloose night
as it slips into velvet slippers,
we ride the tide of a waning moonglow,
our hands shadow play,
mimicking the gossip of bare walls.


Premium Member Embracing Earth

E mbers smoulder, earth sweats  
M an thinks that he made progress
B atters and mauls he, the mother naked
R epreive from where else, does she get!
A tlases many, of 21st century we require, to
C atapult earth back to its pristine splendour
I n the hope to save diversity from extinction 
N ature, else capable to rebalance ‘n upturn
G reenhouse gases already choking our breath!

E ach to promise to protect the mother earth
A need to conserve, and give it ‘n us a rebirth
R educe, reuse, recycle, there will be no dearth
T rees each we plant, ‘n protect them to a big girth
H urrah! We then continue to raise our net worth


Date: 5.7.2014
Form: Acrostic

Fibrolicious - Fib Contest Entry

It was birds Yes Ducks !, Mallards no less
Flown down from Alberta that made this great mess !
I tried to stop them though I shivered in fear
They flew right on past me and landed right here.

They surrounded your cupcakes like an army brigade
and attacked them they did not a one could be saved !
Frosting was flying from the mauls of their beaks
cupcake crumbs scattered all around their webbed feet !

And when they were done and finally flew out
the leader duck threw the last cupcake in my mouth !
I tried not to eat it but it was stuck to my lips
I guess they were just hungry after their long trip ?
© RC Arts  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member I Dream

Written: September 06, 2023
I dream poetry                                      Sponsored by: Ink Empress   
______________________________________________________________

I wander in the night of ebony embrace,
Lost in dreams, heaven, or nightmare chase
Searching in vain for a misty glimmer of hue,
A muted color, yearning to trace through.

My fingers nibble to nudge your comely face.
To glimpse a xerox of your soul in this barren space.
But phantasms and dreams are drowned in tears.
Dreariness and skepticism drench my fears.

Wishes, once vibrant—now unbearably barren,
Each flinch of solace mauls annihilated and torn.
The moon, with a crimson glaze, casts its light.
Uttering the details of this celestial night.

I'm glad I sensed this infamous hue loop.
Yet these are crumbs of an urge to stoop.
They scolded me sternly from the start.
A sane conviction into my flaunting heart.

I swallowed a smidgeon of your spirit.
Silken strings of split that we skillet
Mirthless melodies form a philharmonic of pain.
Sisyphean scarcity smolders at me again.

I waltz to the woeful waiata of weary dance.
Oddments of our devotion, a haunting stance
Alone, I bemoan in the manor of the moon.
Will the sun ever hover over my sorrow soon?
 
Could the growl as it rains blur a rainbow?
While we witness it from the apathetic row.
Or am I being scolded and rebuked for being alive?
Will the spasm that lends life veer and strive?

In the abyss of darkness, there is light.
A beacon of optimism that shines so bright.
And even if I wander, adrift and alone,
Iffy down, surely my soul will cinch home.

I'll retain probing solace in memories past.
They are the fragments that will ever last.
Yet throes may abide, and anguish may resist.
I'll cling to my optimism that love will persist.

Love is an odyssey full of swings and turns.
But, at last, it is an affection that returns.
So I'll betroth myself to the dreams of the past.
They sang to me over the glorious time I cast.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

ENTERING THE SYSTEM

At first, just a glance
Denial keeps the pace
You didn't see that
You must stay in place

The body signals alarm
Growing louder with violation
Yelling, "Set a boundary
For LOVE's precious elation!"

Shame and guilt steps up
Offering clothes to wear
Convincing of ownership
Where fear mauls and tears

If the mind makes it through
The landmines set for decimation
Unseen forces press and push
For humanity's annihilation

Finally, after peace settles
The soul to assuredly reside
The journey takes familiar roads
Calling out fragments that were forced to hide

"Come forth! Be counted as gold
In the treasure of the eternal King
LOVE has won the war over fear
His presence now rules over all things

...made of matter

Written by Trudy Schrader on 08-15-2026/
Form: Rhyme


Demon Days

Demon, bitter are thy days.
Pore o'er, anima.
Raking leaves for bonfires? Blaze.
Ice within me, thaw.

Weathervane, point to the stars?
Sky is full of these.
Half the year, like lids on jars.
Hide, O mysteries.

Blossom, honeysuckle.
Grow wild as ivy vines.
Knees of challenger, buckle.
Ocean, boil thy brines.

Tempest, grow tall. Hurl, O cloud.
Gun, thy machine nest.
Famous faces, lost in crowds?
Blessed bid bile best.

Ray of sun, burn evil out?
Sure, if sure you can.
Shade, what is thy life about?
Love, span what's began.

Frenzied fate, sing. Loud, my Muse.
Hound dog, quiet bay?
Proserpina, disabuse?
Well, sir, I just may.

Gauntleted fist, hard thy strike?
Don't fall off thy bike.
Spend time with a girl you like.
Barracuda? Pike.

Spike atop the city walls? 
He who mills then mauls.
Chaos, how thy dancing calls!
Entropy, thy awls.

Perception, thrum! Warp, thy woof.
Steady heartbeat, ply.
Gambrel are the peaked roof?
Dreamer, thought must fly...
Form: Rhyme

Who, Us

who, US?
by Michael R. Burch

jesus was born
a palestinian child
where there’s no Room
for the meek and the mild

... and in bethlehem still
to this day, lambs are born
to cries of “no Room!”
and Puritanical scorn ...

under Herod, Trump, Bibi
their fates are the same —
the slouching Beast mauls them
and WE have no shame:

“who’s to blame?”

What is happening to Palestinian children in Gaza and the West Bank is a crime against humanity, financed by American taxpayers. Keywords/Tags: Palestine, Palestinian, children, Gaza, West Bank, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Jesus, Christ, child abuse, race, racism, violence, meek, mild, lamb, lambs, kids, Herod, Trump, Bibi, slouching, Beast, American, Christians, Christian, shame, blame, Bible

Premium Member Lord, Save This Unholy Baptist


Lord, save this unholy Baptist!?
     Her lactation, like mother's juice,
slakes thirsty tongues with creamy gist.
     To flush her slick love-chamber's sluice,
with corkscrew thumbs, and practiced wrists,
     like a gander she mauls her goose!

If hairy chest stirs those supple breasts
     in whorish barns (near lover's inns),
then with my cock's erectest crest,
     the buttocks (of her cleft nether-chin),
like meat pies, I durst hurry test,
     lest I, limp, err in deadly sins!

But I pray Thee, O holy Godhead!
     I durst not be so thus content'd,
when, like dogwood, is my sainthead,
     when goes my pizzle unlament'd;
and, like Pan, to c*nt the nunhead,
     I've foregone your grace, unrepent'd.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Stone-Hearted Love

Written: March 11, 2025

               ***********************

Desert dazzling daisy,
Enchanted by the delicate dance of the wind, 
swayed gently under the warm sun. 
Its vibrant petals caught the light, 
creating a mesmerizing display that drew 
the attention of passing travelers, the light of dawn, 

At dusk, it fades akin to fireworks.
Brilliant blooms of 
dandelions, born from 
a bounty of love, 
are bettor than barren 
baubles of diamonds, 
which emerge from a heart of stone.  

Fantastic flair fills 
hearts with fervor, 
as fleeting fragments fade 
such dewdrops dancing 
delicately on dainty petals.  
An ethereal essence elevates,
joyfully bouncing in the 
the atmosphere as dew emerges.  

Roaring rivers of red rage 
in a realm buried 
beneath darkness, 
holding treasures, 
tattered threads, 
tossed at the threshold, 
gently cloaking love, 
longing and light.  
In a blazing embrace, 
spitting at soaring ships, 
smoldering swifter, 

Togetherness and love soar to the loftiest heights. 
mirroring a midget mirth, 
As a mantis mercilessly mauls its mate,  
Carefree, courageous, captivating,
this scene is filled with frolic and fun,
then they could scream
the fury of forgotten freedom, 
fervently flaring.

Leap into the loving arms.
of a waiting parent— 
Truly treasured is trust.  
There is joy in returning that love
love is not a ledger; 
It doesn't tally totals. 
But for the parents, 
Who do they leap into? 
Trusting love will be met. 
with festive feasts 
and fine wine. 

Progenitor of all progenitors, 
to whom the past is pinned, 
in whose hands the future flourishes, 
famed for nurturing the finest— 
for joy and wellness, 
seeds sown and reaped, 
life rekindled, 
form of finesse and fortitude.  
To heed His harmonious hints, 
with serene Sunday pauses, 
to ponder and perceive 
how one might overlook a signal 
and shift into reverse, 
to regain the path 
and reach a radiant resolution.  

A paradise of playful, 
peaceful pauses, 
and who in truth 
can truly doubt, 
Gazing at the humbly honored 
His everlasting love for us, 
His cherished children 
for whom He chose to die?
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Don'T Blame the Flag

When the police came with clubs, dogs, and fire hoses,                                                                                          the non-violent protesters did not blame the American flag.                                                                                                         When protesters were beaten, jailed, and some killed,                                                                                               they did not blame the American flag.                                                                                                                When many were sent off to fight for the rights of others but not their own,                                                              they did not blame the American flag.                                                                                                                  When in uniform, they were treated as second-class citizens far from home,                                                             they did not blame the American flag.                                                                                                                       When their own country discriminated and demeaned them on foreign soil,                                                      they did not blame the American flag.                                                                                                                   

When on bended knees, believing in country, church, and God, against  what seemed to be impossible odds, they fought for justice through the courts and the halls of Congress and won many incredible battles.                                                 

From the segregated schools and the cotton fields of the deep south, I saw the non-violent protesters and freedom riders. They took the blows and stood tall; from the dogs, they withstood the mauls and realized that hatred and racism were the cause. Yes, this baby boomer observed it all, but I do not recall that they blamed the American flag.
01132018 PS PH FB

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