Long Murky Poems
Long Murky Poems. Below are the most popular long Murky by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Murky poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: June 07, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
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The Phantom Choir
In the quiescence of last Sunday,
Prophecy heralded the hour past two,
I heard a whisper at hibiscus dawn—
a seamless voice I swore I always knew.
In blissful flutter—it said night was wide,
Chrysalis sorrow stirs a bed for fools,
that in the hush, when hearts collide,
The lost willows are left to wade in pools.
Facing the kernel until the street thinned,
And my shadow’s sepals bled away,
Rusted voice strings within me spoke again—
It's hymn frills poised for slow decay.
The Hollow Pact
Will I wake to descry my cracked mind,
emptied of all its sharpened teeth?
Will murky echoes break their binds,
Or gnaw beneath the sheath?
The alchemy battle sparks, but I am dust—
wispy strands, a soldier tied in flimsy chains.
Each idea erodes the periwinkle ones I trust,
while the weight of stress remains.
You graze me with a maze—why do I stand so still?
Resurrection of the soul—so why shake your hands?
But dread can have its way to fulfill—
The transcendence of love is lost in vicious demands.
The Third Mourning
Wise chakras buried beneath the walls I built,
the zen voice still scrawls its wordless plea.
It concedes my yantra’s vulnerability, my guilt,
peers where peacock pleadings wane into a spree.
It hums inside the tremors of sapphire light,
I close my eyes as it runs over lily-filled shorelines.
Bits of lunar-glazed silver dust grow in quiet nights,
and procrastinated pledges become lies.
In my dour dreams, it tells me not to resist—
“You know that silken shivers favor sound.”
Amid cyan azure peace, I learn misery persists,
for flickers of love fear the burial mound.
The Acoustic Waltz
In nocturnal dryness—sing soft verses in the dark,
claims the enamored inked words are not hers.
She plucks cerulean hymns without leaving a mark,
The tune of her carved kohl was lost in slurs.
She sways in the russet yarns of neon glow,
bows beneath the ricochet’s wild haze—
a phantom waltz in katabatic motion, moving slow.
a cosmic voice garden, too faint to truly be a maze.
Her pocket holds a ring of black gem glass,
won as a child’s dare, a piece of smitten ink.
She warms it, sighs, and watches it pass
through flaming flecks—hands that fight to sink.
What's happened here?
I asked,
I asked again...
and where to reclaim.
For I've lost something precious (so dear to me)
and someone or something's to blame
and will I be repaid in heaven's name?
To be sure, I'll find peace in justice, heh
justice in life..
heh!
Where to place it..
God, demon, mankind, or you?
Oh, such a shame to know
the fault could be all mine too...
swirled in murky shallows
can't fix it, can't face it
can never forget it
it is an injustice,
after all...
So dear friends, convince me
whim of justice, just isn't so
so I decided finally to
just let it go...
Off the land and into the pit, September rolls around.
Simple days have long since gone upon the family ground.
Stolen pride-dignity.
Gossip hounds' voices sound like trumpets to the games.
I'm in the pit, grease to my neck, not hearing the marching band.
But thoughts intrude, they are so vain, adding layers to the pain.
My dream is muddled in murky grey as the selfish look for more.
Holding on till morning light, body spent, truth ignored.
I'm but a serf upon my land, the devil has the upper hand.
So as September rolls on through, my thoughts no longer good.
Purple bands upon our hands, the grease hides all the pain.
Dreams alive for those who stare, not a clue of something wrong.
For in this pit and man-made hell, I'm struggling to hold on.
Stress like devil's electric pain, the blood beats through my veins.
Beats of heart like coffin nails erase the final stand.
In the box the farmer goes, absent from the land.
Rob a farmer of his love, you steal his soul.
There's nothing left, they're asking why, but refuse to understand.
I stare in to the eyes of darkness
Hypnotized by fear
And it is the depth that gets me
Magnetic pull is in the air
I see a black hole sitting
At the edge of milky way
Like a sneaky predator
Waiting for a pray
Ripples going down in circles
Like majestic curved stairs
Of the gothic palace
Suck me in and swallow
Like a trapped lonely bird
I try to escape
But it is too late
I am in the whirlwind
Of fiery descend
Breathing choky sulfur
The death scent
I am falling down
Accelerating
Like a heavy stone
Cast down the hill
By a raging storm
And I melt in the mist
Of primal icy hail
The wind in my ears
Sings a song of love
And scattered petals
Of intoxicating
Blooming flowers
Land on my eyes
So I can’t see the pastel
Frozen water lilies
Framing the picture
Of the beautiful world
That I knew before
Which no longer exists
It was consumed by desire
To open the secret doors
And explore
In the depth of psyche
I still see the image
Of the world that I loved
I try to etch it in my heart
So I can have it
In my soul frozen
In a small droplet of ice
When I no longer am
I always wanted to know
The soul of darkness
So that I could throw
It far away into the
Distant murky madness
Of abandoned world
Opening the windows
Of a lonely soul
That was trying to escape
The prison of its own
Desire to know
I was in a slumber repose,
so tired- I wanted to rest:
then, a guitar vibrating grows,
I love the twanging of my guest;
bringing feeling that I repressed !
The tune is a dreamy cajole,
an enticement and seduction:
the music speaks love to my soul,
I sigh for my love's destruction;
recall our introduction !
I am in a place misty veiled,
hazy, dark, murky and shrouded:
I see headstones with etching paled,
and names engraved- the stones crowded;
oh, why is the sky so clouded !
I smell the fragrant lilacs bloom,
one day ... I planted these flowers:
he loved so their cluster perfume,
I could stand here many hours;
oh, weary- and now the showers !
Poet’s Note : [Sapphic Stanza is normally four lines. This poem is a Sapphic Stanza Multiple ]
________________________________
In Dark Womb of God it is tender and warm
we receive Turkish Delight chocolate stormed
cut it in half with our fingers circled in white
receiving….bite, right
Laughter is not false sounds coming from masked stings
only pure rings from bellies, see death basked
Bestower told us to rest awhile, spirit style
yin-yang__opposite dials
They cannot bother us here with insert stares
a whirlwind majestic lifted us up high
done as much as we could before new missions
delivered … requests
Below stuck in muck, we need not to be bothered
for time being was a delicious smother
walking down our Akashic Aisle for miles, miles
reading _____ our beguiles
Roman temple structures, ruptures and arrows Dark Nights of Souls we watched as movies narrow
fascinating debates in vacant spaces, weaned
mirrors galore gleaned …
Murky waters where stale grief slithered in blood
fun to see so many facets falling in flood
armour and daggers of all sorts with flowers
serpents in bowers _____
Still you wanted to stuff your pockets, in case angels laughed at your haste around corners chaste
past present future all one we understood
Eternity’s good …
In nowhere could we weep, it mattered little
could sing any hymn though they sounded brittle
chose to peruse any life for reaping thrills
talents ____ on frills
Gilded manuscripts, sigils, bells, shells, totems
we could keep what we wanted, Power honoured
Faith with abundance laws aligned, for sure more
shore doors gaping wide…..
/________________________________\
Adventure had been born with him just like his very heart,
Facing challenges and taking risks had been, for him, fine-art;
His selection, hence, as a warrior, was purely cogent,
Toward solving any problem he proved himself potent...!
Situations got grim in the border of his placement,
Shells spread like dead sharks above terrace or below basement;
In dark, dull, dim, dubious dust and dirt enemies moved,
Unsure erratic environs seemed legally approved...!
Terror mounting; fear pounding; heads giddy and hearts breaking;
Each one as though trees plucked by storm shaking, quaking, aching;
Tried covering their faces not daring to face the scene,
To many men the most horrendous of night this had been...!
He, the daredevil took stalk of the circumstances well,
As though possessed ancient supernatural power-spell;
Plowed through the pitch dark; set the hay-like dry bush in fire,
Tents burnt, unprepared opponents flew as though in dire mire...!
Their abrupt fire-torrents he, like a brave lion faced,
His friends from tents, when as frightened hares, toward hot-spot raced;
They found him dying; midst, yet, his gun targeting the foes,
Inspired and motivated, they put on their battle-pose...!
22 July 2022
“the essence in us is the same as the essence of the sun”
In the dark opaque night,
across the stupefied space of solidified solitude,
enfolding the languid landscape of existence,
bereft of the beguiled spirit in indolent life,
my forsaken journey’s pathway meanders
in the gloomy labyrinth of languishing agony.
The self-obsessive free-will,
ever seemingly dormant
beneath the sheath of ignorance
envelopes the mind with an illusory immanent veil,
obscures the visage of the ordained destination.
Trudging at the fringe of trying tolerance,
I hear the whispering wind of innate wisdom
tell me, this journey has no meaningful end.
I’m in the nebulous ambit of ambiguity,
find the desolate soul in the grip of distress shadow.
As I see the overcast bleak night sky crash down,
I collect fortitude in darkness from the debris of hope,
pray for the solacing sun to rise, illumine my essence.
I travel liberated out of the murky abyss of anguish
on the inward blessed journey of acuity
through the righteous layers of consciousness,
perceive the spirit of the devout soul
in the radiance of the divine beacon,
lighting up the screen of the enacting life.
The portals of the inner domain then open,
where the galactic lotus blooms for me,
suffused with omnipresent gleam of God’s grace.
My lighted soul shines with ethereal luminosity
in the infinite depth of the discernment space,
like the flaring brightness of a billion suns.
In my self-searching spiritual odyssey
toward the edge of the enlightened eternity,
I perceive the glow of the inner galaxy,
the dweller of my heart,
turning my essence into a living light.
Rivers and lakes flowing gladly
Around dead things deep down inside
Dead cans, dead fish, dead bodies
I cannot fathom it, and yet I can.
My friend Kim said that her boat got caught up once
It felt like they were dragging something heavy with their tow rope
It felt like they were dragging a car, until it loosened itself
A man’s body was found a day later in that lake
I can barely eat fish, knowing they are eat dead things
Dead things is what I think about when I look into the dark murky waters
Thinking that you could step on a rusty fishhook at any second
And have to have a tetanus shot. Rivers and lakes. Someone else’s dessert.
I stand
Standing upon the emerald landscape
posture stiff and still
Eyes like black holes
devouring the space around me
Glass horse galloping, prisms
exploding through the plainlands
Time passes faster and faster
the clouds cocoon and bloom
into a wrinkled face,
nearing a necessary wail
I blink
A cliffside abbey, tourmaline waves
crash into the fissured face
Hung to the horizon, dangling
like a Christmas ornament above the sea
A gaggle of nuns gather to practice their vespers
clasping on their ash wood rosaries
The atmosphere arranges
in etudes as the cliffside ascends
I fall
Wading face up in a bog
a common frog hops along my halo
I saw a woman I once loved
wrapped in the storm clouds, gliding
There's a murmur in the shifting
leaves above me,
the purest peatland water slowly rises
as though I’m an egg to be pickled
Drowning in the songs of the ancient
the spectral, the still unknown
I sink
Suspended in the cloudy drink
a liquid haze
a glowing quilt finds itself
around my shoulder blades
Where I imagine wings
would be surgically stitched
Adrift in the murky space,
I am an audience to an Annunciation
of marbled crawdads birthing clones
of nature performing miracles
Now I finally find a restful peace
amongst the kaleidoscopic