Long Mummified Poems
Long Mummified Poems. Below are the most popular long Mummified by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mummified poems by poem length and keyword.
An ancient, desiccated
pharaoh awakened within
the subterranean labyrinth
of his limestone sepulcher,
Tattered, resin- soaked
bandages unfurled like
skeletal fingers from his
withered, emaciated frame.
A hollow, sarcophagus- born
shriek echoed through the
claustrophobic, dust- choked
corridors of the tomb.
Intruders trembled as the
reanimated monarch
exhaled a foul, millennial
breath of decay.
The curse of the scarab-
engraved scarification
manifested, binding the
tomb- raiders in paralyzed
terror.
His empty, shadowed
sockets burned with a
malevolent, incandescent
hunger for vengeance.
Grizzled, mummified hands
reached out to drag the
trespassers into the stygian
darkness.
The heavy stone sarcophagus
lid slammed shut, sealing their
horrific, suffocating fate.
Now, fresh blood seeped
through the ancient linen,
feeding the eternal, undead
king.
The labyrinth reclaimed its
silence, guarding the pharaoh's
newly fortified, immortal slumber.
watching you drive away via the phone receiver
after an argument that left me riddled with confusion
wondering how we got here
i guess i am the kid that you choose to see me as again
i want to be the passionflower of your spotlight
yet and still when i am given the key to that special place that you possess,
i am a block of ice overwhelmed by chattering knots
while in the dark of my lonely, drafty apartment, i can still smell
the rare scent of the definition of you
all of a sudden i become that certain type of toad aching to be healed
i guess i am the kid that you choose to see me as again
i want to be the passionflower of your spotlight
however and nevertheless when i am offered the special welcome mat of your arousal,
i am a mummified maniac driven insane by an overtly elongated monotony....
Planned a pretty picnic, yet didn’t predict
Pigs begged - please eat us
Allocated table had laid out a feisty feast
Mince never been seen since
Rolled in crackling casing, their fatty flesh
Confused cuttings, garnish
New sensations buzzed about, fly nuisance
Neurons zoomed zealously
Hogs hounded by horrifying hallucinations
Leotard clad dancer retarded
Twisted vertebrae a violation, tongue flicks
Countdown to lard liquidation
Psilocybin sunny yellow yolk binds reason
Lumen shed no light of lantern
Mazatec ritual melted musk pink muscles
Slow motion mushroom sprawl
Mummified corpses crept out of deep crypt
Afternoon amber amplified fate
Fast forward formula filter, little pigs fiction
Scramble like crabs in a bucket
Baked brick brains, barbecued by voodoo
Vulgar misogyny bursts, a bulb
Blooms dubious blue in Voyria voyage void
Wolf at their door signals doom
Serpent slithered through halved heart rates
Shot of short sighted reaction
Spastic synapses jerk erratic, far stargazing
Scatter, decant into galaxy icy
Frozen bones form a crucifix in farmer’ stall
Fable of table where food served
Sustenance, except the hex that halted them
Bode their badges vanish in ash
21st May
A tatterdemalion
Demonstrates haste
has a bad taste
Homeless make tracks
Unashamed, I stay
Along the paw-trod path
Narrow and dainty through the gorse
Where yellow flowers
Lie dim like fallen stars in the mist
Comes a silent visitor, hesitant
It licks its lips
A taste like vinegar
Humans of old and long ago
Their lonely essence gone
The heather-stepper flinches
Shy of memorial eyes
The castle ruined on the hill
The manse below with broken windows
No smoke at the chimney
Only the wind that whips at the gables
And the empty nests of swifts
Nudging open the gate, it sniffs
The garden is overgrown
Cow parsley four feet tall
The front door at the porch swings on its hinges
Frightened at first, it shies back
But, then, seeing the door ajar once more
It pads in
In the hall, the photographs are curled in their frames
The flock wallpaper brown with age
Light rectangles appear on the wall
Where paintings have fallen to the floor
As nails have loosened away
Through a dirty glass door into the kitchen
A female body, face-up, mummified by cold
Her icy fingers gnawed by time
Clasps a mobile phone to her breast
The last note she wrote
With her thumbs
Before the screen went blank
Was: "It won't be long now."
She strings silken snares, spanning every chasm
trying to entrap an unwary fly.
A slight vibration causes her to spasm,
delighting in the news that lunch is nigh.
She dines in opulence; walls draped in silk,
where mummified meals hang as trophies won.
Her inner chamber's the color of milk,
but dewdrops make her web gleam in the sun.
A vicarious thrill follows each kill,
within the theater of life and death.
Hunger supplies the impetus to bite,
and poison ensures flies breathe their last breath.
The spider holds no feelings for the fly,
and yet, for it to live, the fly must die.
Atmosphere peers in as witnessed guide
Playing silent the light a curse of the eye
Distant drum beats,
blood keeping time as the encampment
machines turn
Seer flips an hourglass
measuring the polarity and equity of the fall
Deserters, heads filling the holes increments
of inclement, cement ed dissent of traitorous mole,
ducking tale, tucking trail
motions of churn, taken the asundered call
Into the pit of dry foaming foment
to take the moments from one and all
The sconses lick hungrily at an invisible crevace
beyond the wall
As if to escape the dire situation
Dancing shadows mocking with the flame
Threats to soot on, even urning to you
hieroglyphic mummified remains of the blame
An operative to take the walls
as an agent of willed imagery,
with intent effigy chasing
Voodoo, if self placing, if only in symbology
it signs its name,
yours it seeks erasing
Sways like an imbecile to the drums
that roll on chTantric Seasoning
Chancing luck, diced to taste, the only salvation
Old Men milk the ink and the pages complain
of the hurried-station, airy, brash, the callous flap
But still there to give their credence credulity
and their backs
Thick the cool salve over the eye
Nor reap the fruit of the Harvester
Be not a Mothers bag pulled dry
While the challenge is chalice ready, epic, nigh
The Standard bears the last stand
with royal severity, the last strand of the integrity
Walk the great halls, echo
that Nativity
That takes the line with Authority
*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Words numb the mind whilst on paper,
idleness advocates,
a lost quill to favor a floor;
tossing profits to err,
that challenges remnants respite,
from energies spirits,
their internal venous chambers,
timely formulation.
Bach, nay Beethoven symphony,
caress the ears to muse,
a muted voice moistens lips, drains,
the endless sands of time,
as its host, vaporous spirits,
engages a review,
of Cherubs galloped chariots,
steads Athena’s harp plays,
illumes familial revue.
Sadden and laughter, exposes,
the stillness mummified,
as the blanketed sinks down low,
perchance a remedy,
will enlighten the slumbered gist,
as seasons in transit,
regulates targeted gamut,
palls nightmares, enhanced dreams.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Our Flag Waved
in a foreign land...
Given the taste,
of sweet,
savory, freedom...
The people cry out for more.
Scared they are about to be,
mummified forever,
in the throng of one-ness.
Your pretty faces,
will be ugly and all just alike.
You will conform to the proper,
hair-do...
You will dress in what we give you,
wear what you must,
and above all...
die as "We" see fit.
It will not happen quickly...
no-not fast at all.
We want to make an example.
Do not fear or shed a tear,
no one will hear you scream.
Organs gifted to the rich,
bought and sold to the highest.
No...
we will not eat you all today,
we have to do it slowly,
so it will last.
Your children,
we will take,
and give each one a chance,
to dance in the darkness...
of illiteracy,
and ensure our path to glory,
is a long and golden road.
Like the great wall,
filled with bodies,
our land is full of ghosts,
hosts for the unwilling
and hatred of all things free.
Love being lost
My tears merge with the storm
The cool rain is making me sweat
Don't want to be found
Nobody is wondering
Love being lost
So enjoy the quiet vibe of being invisible
So much of so many that I so miss
Don't want to be found
The mirrors go black in solidified hibernation
Love being lost
The apples receive scars from the falling limbs of aging time
Soaked to the bone and blue throughout my weary soul
Don't want to be found
Everybody is centered on self
Love being lost
Stuck in the past like bloody thorns counting sheep making wishes
Happiness is missing the time machine that I have not the simplest of talents to make
Don't want to be found
My favorite parking spot is wherever and whatever is long since forgotten like unsung trailblazers collecting mummified dust
Soundlessly ricochet to and fro
hither and yon
roundly bobbing within squarely donned
talking heads of psycho killers,
one pyromaniac burning
down the crowded house
sparking magnificent conflagration
towering inferno emulating
caterwauling, kickstarting, ululating
(think) stray cats on a hot tin roof
nsync with 10,000 maniacs
intense heat and duraflame
long since eroding
weather beaten soul asylum
strip mining away
vestial trace, hence impossible mission
rectifying purposeless existence
imputed to passive self sacrifice
upon cusp of prepubescence
mystified, mummified, modified,
stilled, lulled, andhushed
obsessively grammatically fanatical
oftimes feeble efforts yielded countless
corrective editing measures
subsequently rendering lame
resultant deplorable effort
despite NON GMO gluten
and monosodiumglutimate free
diet of (hooked) worms
limply tethered symbolic constructs
analogous to dangling participles
scraping, plowing, etching...
imperfect triangulated Hollywood squares
across parched stream of consciousness
former luscious cerebral riverbeds
long since bone dry
millennium since onset climate change
courtesy global warming
blowing in the hot torpid wind
sands of time elapsed
accepted biological demise
forever linkedin with his forebears
birth/death repurposed cycle
activated, demonstrated, gifted...
integration, narration, reincarnation...
biochemical, geological, paleontological...
legacy randomly begetting me
epochal, integral, orbital saga
since time immemorial
fifty plus shades of once ashen gray
well muscled athletic human specimen
oblivious corpse good n plenti
petrified, metamorphosed, coalesced
bleached skull and crossbones
grown brittle when blazing sun's
rays generated aforementioned disparate ideas
jangled, rankled, and zapped
in tandem with bared tiger (no lion)
slapdash pell mell, helter
skelter, higglety pigglety...
germane blitzkrieg rained down above
leaving writer, tortured, mortified, and benumbed
without either sense or sensibility
nor pride and prejudice
perusing discombobulated chaotic
kamikaze lobbed muddlesome nonsense.