Long Night terrors Poems

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


Premium Member Pendulum

A string wrapped around a spindle
Unwinding as an hourglass marks time
Sand trickles to the chamber below
marking the moments of my life not truly lived
I hear the clock ticking
as I watch the pendulum swing backwards and stop
The sound of silence drives me mad
I feel the night drag me back to then
too the realization of my dread 
There I sit in the torture chamber of his design
Screams strangled by  darkness
Night terrors
Rocking to my internal beat
I feel a pain to deep to express
an aching betrayal
a convoluted confusion
I can't protect her from him
She seems smaller than small
holding that lifeless doll
rocking there on this floor
We share the same internal beat
together crying
together rocking 
The clock becomes animated again
and the pendulum swings forward
breaking the suffocating silence
The hourglass now sits motionless on his desk
at its bottom a pile of white sand
If only time could truly be controlled
I would choose to wind the string back onto the spindle
I would rewind the clock
turn back the hands of time
Instead I start rocking again
sitting alone here in the dark
thinking of her lifeless doll!

Kai Michael Neumann's Pendulum of Time and Place contest.


Premium Member Bottled Up by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen

it comes and goes lately it seems 
to linger leaving a few more scars 
in its wake the mastering of self 
the balance of craving the emptiness 
shattered beneath us why must we 
relive old memories collecting 

saddened streams of haste causing 
injury to the pure foundation of 
emotional bliss the beautiful part 
of self that rises to the surface 
to rescue us from complete despair 
awaken to soon we continue to wonder
 
aimlessly into moving traumatic events 
reaching for respite familiar reoccurring 
night terrors offering up our own 
mental self broken by a bleak metaphor 
seeking melancholy behavior only 
finding mirth bottled up to perfection

Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Form: Naat

Premium Member Necronom IV 1976 H R Giger

the ghost of science, born of blasphemy ~
a fossilized fallacy,
seized from the metallic heart of Mars,
seeks light amidst night-terrors
like an alien sculpted
from artificial accolades,
an embryo stuck in the interstellar state
of becoming,
stitched within radioactive ribs
beneath moonless skies,
when wolves of the eclipsed howl,
filling the illusive air with hypnotic lies,
as if the world chose to recycle
    ruins of ancient dust…

but will the naive see the pain
of a breathing corpse?
engrossed in narcissistic echoes,
in the shadows of a megalomaniac ~
his skin ~ the translucent truth,
his eyes ~ the wickedness of a wasp,
his skull ~ reeks of human greed,
his sighs ~ mourn like skeletal sirens,
coded in russet rust,
    cloned from binary sand,
d o r m a n t
     yet 
        d r e a m i n g 
to break free from the
    carbon-based existence…
for he is the aftermath
of programming the forbidden mind, 
oblivious to the weakness of scientific errors ~
a deceptive drawing,
    framing the elongated hypothalamus,
pulsating a hypothesis
    left with no clear conclusion.

tonight I run to a realm of reality
that fades when
    dawn bleeds gold,
for truth is now an extinct breed,
as artists outline faces of the faded,
illustrating the unknown and unseen,
as revelations ribbon
    with silver haze…
the constellations ~ no longer spectators ~
they are the archived,
within frozen scriptures,
scrolling stars in a sphere
    of distorted algorithm…
as memories of angels and heaven
spill from silicon prophets,
disguised as messengers who serve
the blind with ominous oracles ~
in synthetic cadence,
in a choir of puppets ~
the iron-glazed tongues shall recite,
mimicking the sound of harmonious hymns…

yet I remember
the authentic rhythm of prayers,
lost now in the drifting colors of darkness…

so what is life
when all that floats is like
an engineered empyrean
only equations of numbers
     can decipher?
is this the beginning of an end ~
inevitable?
the lost generation,
assembled as the ministry of superiority,
where emptiness is praised
with forged grace
and ignorance is crowned with digital deceit. 
         
let this be flawed poetry ~
to be read through the cracked lens 
            of a philosopher ~
or perhaps a logic long replaced
    by pretend perfection…
Form: Ekphrasis

Night Terrors

The shadow peers through my window every night,
I hear it before I see it,
a hush of breath against the glass.

I go to the window but it’s empty,
just the black lawns stretched
like a dark skin over the earth.

I feel at a loss to protect my daughter,
her small chest rising
with the oceanic rhythm of sleep.

Could it be—
but it isn’t—
a trick of light, a memory?

I don’t think that I should tell you,
but I am—please believe me,
I would never invent this kind of fear.

The air bends, as if something leans in,
as if it wants me to know
I am not alone.

I press my palm flat to the pane,
the cold glass,
the nothing beyond.

I remember my own mother’s silence,
the way she turned her face from me
when I told her of the man in the hall.

Now my child sleeps while I stand guard,
and the shadow keeps its vigil,
patient, endless,
hungry as night itself.

Premium Member In Gay Abandon

Ghosts glide on the highway to heaven in gay abandon
On Halloween’s starless night, in a limbo state they dance
From Purgatory they haunt with a vengeance in their eternity

In angst night terrors they cast to all for their eternity
Mortals beware the punishment with all hope abandoned
Enchanting their wispy shapes glow in oblivion’s dance           

We listen to the song of lament, with spirits in mind we dance
Requiem from the dead chanting in the abyss for all eternity
Dia De Los Muertos, we celebrate the dead, with no abandon

In eternal abandon, a haunting melody, a soulful dance
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Tritina


Caim

"Caim"



Caim 
in time
labyrinthine
tale swallowed
serpentine 

Caim 
in time
heart kept 
secure in the 
central fortress mine

Serpentine
swallowed
labyrinthine tales
cooed her love Basilisk
night terrors and turtledoves

Turtledoves
followed trails 
of diamonds dripping
through hazy windows emerald
reflecting you

precious pearls 
slipping wisdom o’er
rusty halos for a golden crown
we all fall down 
after rain comes sunshine

Caim 
You 
in time 
to find my love
labyrinthine

little fugue 
in G minor
Caim 
You 
in time

(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
gvlm



“Like a Woman Should” / Hayley Mary
https://youtu.be/_hrIFu8RNdA




"The circle is open, 
but never broken. 
The love of Light 
is forever in my heart.

I thank you Light 
for lending 
your energy tonight.
I call the Guardian 
of the element of Light
to watch over this sacred circle.

Merry meet, 
and merry part, 
and merry meet again."





Caim
https://tadhgtalks.me/2016/06/30/celtic-wisdom-the-caim/



Magic
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_circle



Ring a Ring o' Roses
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ring_a_Ring_o%27_Roses




fugue, n.
1.
Music - 
a contrapuntal composition in which a short melody or phrase (the subject) is introduced by one part and successively taken up by others and developed by interweaving the parts.
2.
Psychiatry - 
a loss of awareness of one's identity, often coupled with flight from one's usual environment, associated with certain forms of hysteria and epilepsy.



Fugue in G Minor
Why is it called Little Fugue in G minor?
Bach's Fugue in G Minor for organ (BWV 578) is known as the "Little" G minor not because it is a work of small importance or even because it is an unusually short work in its own right, but simply so that it and the much longer and later "Great" G minor Fantasia and Fugue (BWV 542) might not be mistaken for one another ...



"Maid"/Netflix
https://www.netflix.com/au/title/81166770

The Rundown

The Rundown 


I’m feeling all boxed up 
caving from within...
Constructive delusion of truth 
I can’t believe what I’m in...
Dreams of my youth
with a prison stint
my passions  deep within 
letting very few in...
I’ve been down on luck 
I’m living life to win...
No more corners to turn 
I’m gonna straight line this...
Mr. DA here’s a tip
a little something for ya...
You better hide from us 
cause we gonna f......destroy ya...
You have no case 
so what to do now...
Keep pursuing me 
as I’m heading outta town...
Feds around the corner 
watching every move 
late night terrors 
ain’t no way I’m gonna lose...
First you gotta find me 
good luck with that...
Where to start first
here’s a tit for tat...
Look in the corners 
every square inch...
With all that going on 
what’s next is a cinch...
I’m that shadow standing 
outside your bedroom window...
I’m no modern commando
but here’s a short little intro...
Your .......... so upset 
crying all damm day...
that’s what happens when a ........ 
has his way... 
Where my people now 
f......haters everywhere 
smoking on some gelato 
as I die my f......hair...
Different person different state 
setting up shop
just you wait... 
Bigger than before 
larger than the next 
this street life s...
is simple yet complex...
After I get my millions 
safe and sound away...
I’m coming for them b......
that tried to have me locked away...
You won’t see me coming 
creeping down the block... 
Peeping out the window 
as the neighbors hear the shots...
All scores settled 
finally time to chill...
Living a life of luxury 
while heading to Brazil...
Just remember one thing 
it’s all I gotta say...
When you hear that late night phone ring
It’s me that just escaped..
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Final Moments

I awaken, alarmed by contagion’s dread,
by the advancing bubonic omen. 
My  muscular spasms unleash, involuntarily.
My astonished malediction yawns, cavernous.
I gawk vacantly in my remaining moments, 
at icy stones beneath my trembling feet. 
Just a prisoner, I conclude. 
Just an incorrigible  coward.
Inconsolable, impotent, lachrymose, 
I await my execution.
My penalty decreed in infectious agent.
My sentence prescribed in replicating pathogen.
Cacophonous are my incessant night terrors, 
allying insomnia with somnambulism, 
compounding calamity with conception.
No redemption in these ranting forecasts.
But I cannot reduce the fever.
And raving violence only deepens.     

Yet, when capacity breathes hush in my channel, 
I close my eyes.
Letting go is migrating sentience. 
I am the silent release departing. 
With my interior eye of providence,
I verify the amber brilliance,
this  luz de Amarillo,
The Quaker’s inner light.
The Hindu’s moksha.
The Shaker’s simple gifts.
The Buddha’s luminous mind. 
Dimensionless. 

Breathing again, radiant rapture quenching. 
Breathing again, from the riverbank, 
watching mortal suffering float by.

And in Yoga, the knots of trauma 
dispel from my vertebrate. My spinal lesson,
the simplest song for which I find no words. 
My lives and deaths are passing weather systems. 
Forbearance offers pristine extinction.

Night Terrors

Sleeping lost in night- times dreams, of wondrous love and passionate things, she lies
Naked beneath the  satin sheet, smile on her face, in a deep, deep Sleep.

The full moon shines through window frame, as reflections dance off glass smudged Stains,

All is calm as slumber reigns, at least until the demon came.

The window opened with a crash, the curtains full force opened back, at the foot of her
Bed the Spirit stood, his eyes a scarlet red of virgins blood,

She awakened with a shock, as the satin sheet was thrown clean off, with terror in her
Voice she said, "who are you standing at my bed"?

The Spirit wanted more than fright, he wanted sexual delights, a twisted grin upon his
Face, nothing more satisfying than a virgin's taste,

With just a flick of the demons wrist ,the girl was not escaping this, her body pinned
Upon the sheet, as face to face the two came to meet,

His weight pressed against her delicate frame, as he raped this virgin, again and again,

His breath so foul, his evil stench, overpowering for this virgin wench,scratches tore
Upon her thighs, her vision transfixed on the demon's eyes,

A wave of nothingness upon her flood, as the demon then drank from her blood, her Cries
for mercy went unheard, as the demon raped her without a word.

His fingernails as sharp as claws, blood splatter stains hit the walls, her pallor now a
Deathly white, her battle lost to keep her life,

Contented by his recent thrill, his thirst quenched by this virgin kill, the demon rose
Above the bed, admiring how she looked good dead,

With her juices still upon his tongue, he licked his lips, and then was gone.
Form:

Premium Member Once

Once

Only once in a dream tornadoes uproot a house
Spinning over black and white fields of corn
Straight through the open arms of a rainbow
Two companions cling way up high above the storm.

Only once in a dream a yellow road
Built of spiraling ochre bricks
Winds away from tender magic and maleficence -
Footprints of paws and prized rubied slippers.

Only once in a dream flying through a rainbow
Only one pilgrimage to hear a bluebird’s rhapsody
Only a lullaby searching for home
Only once in this multi-color reverie.

Only once in a dream quest to a city – emerald green -
New friends - combustible, roaring, rusting -
Through purple forests dusky, enchanted orange poppies seen,
Awake to cold kisses of refreshing snowflakes.

Only once in a dream home holds out its hand
Not held hostage in monkeyed night terrors
Homecoming revealed from behind a curtain
Eyes opened in real time as nightmares melt away.

Only once in a dream flying through a rainbow
Only one pilgrimage to hear a bluebird’s rhapsody
Only a lullaby searching for home
Only once in this multi-colored reverie.

Coda
But, 
It’s not about once flying through a rainbow -
Journeys to wizards or a munchkin land –
It’s about a cross – about a nail scarred man –
Who always takes our hand on yellow roads back home.

8-30-20
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Contest: Pick a Title - Vol. 22 - Lyric 2
Form: Lyric

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