Long Nightmarish Poems
Long Nightmarish Poems. Below are the most popular long Nightmarish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nightmarish poems by poem length and keyword.
Doomsday Clock January 2022...
the most recent tabulation
signaled one hundred seconds to midnight
A couple years ago
similarly titled poem I did write,
yet looms as harbinger unless
*****sapiens can unite
one non Yiddish speaking
Ongematert wishing ye
fare thee well tonight
before betokening apocalyptic sight
'course one must go about
her/his business - right?
Rhetorical question - yet
impossible mission quite
challenging, where one
brother grimm ponders plight
Cosmofunnel favorite fan
Katina Borgersen "poof"
our acquaintanceship dissolved
(think - snapped fingers) outright
regardless, whether...
perchance we ever
cross paths long daze
journey into night
met under virtual reality moonlight
ah... the mere awareness
of her existence
metaphorically found modest, mercurial
mellow male within limelight
oy vey admittedly one
rusty Ongepatshket knight
fumbling in the dark with
his unreliable sputtering jacklight
hooping aforesaid gal whose eyes alight
upon mine genuine words doth newt
coon sitter me laughable, nor impolite,
yet accept hard reality to highlight
and/or _ underscore delight
full dame online - each of us,
an infinitesimal jot of granulite
within vast cosmos given finite
minuscule time to excite
our senses trending utmost delight
during brief unique
deoxynucleic chromosomal copyright
til death do us part,
whether natural demise
or... huge mushroom
clouds radioactive blight
unimaginable nightmarish scenario
impossible mission to close third eye blind
webbed global haunting spectacle
mortal creatures linkedin to ill fate
including yours truly,
a generic, garden variety
hermetically sealed cell bit anchorite.
Uneasiness far greater
to confront atomic augury
than pernicious penury
which ceases within eyeblink
far more serious than perjury
nonetheless afflicting me
with psychological injury.
Personal finances pitted
me deep in hock
into red room zone,
shining thru the mist
story, yes I experience
quite a shell shock,
to absorb inconvenient truth
great swaths of Gaia
analogous to dead zone,
nevertheless, now finds yours
truly poorest, oldest, and nerdiest
curmudgeon goofy "kid"
on the chopping block
within Lake Wobegon
hard space and third rock
from sun as inevitable doom
inches closer as each second elapses
insync with inaudible tick tock.
3 strikes…you’re out!
I’ve given you way too many chances…
Do you expect more?
You left me empty-handed… your insufficiency advances…
3 strikes…you’ve ran out of chances
But I’m kind enough to buy you some more
Or maybe I have some in store
You’ve pushed it to the limits
I’M TELLIN’ YOU TO QUIT IT
When you throw your tantrums… your foolish fits
I’m tellin’ you to lay off of me…
You treated me like dirt and grime
You have only one last chance…
Will you stop acting irrationally?
Don’t screw it up this time…
3 strikes…GET out of my sight
Get out of my life – there’s the front door
You’re killin’ me with your insanity
3 strikes… don’t pout!
Could you JUST leave me alone tonight?
I’ve given you a bunch of options,
But you were heedless of my vanity…
You’ve tortured me with your profanity
You’ve punctured me with your
lies and your brutality
You’ve defeated me with your
nightmarish reality
Why do you hunger for my agony?
3 strikes…there’s no way out
Of your devious trap…
You’re blaming me for your downfalls
3 strikes…good riddance…get out!
You’ve never answered my calls,
So just desert me…
Let me escort you to the front door
Leave me alone…I don’t love you anymore
You’ve really tried my patience
I’m tellin’ you to leave me be…
You still don’t listen to me – I want you to flee
I want you to be set free
Get out of heart…
Get out of my house…
Get out of my head…
Get out of my life!
You’re the magnet of strife
You’ve invited corruption in my life
It strangles me like a thick rope around my neck
It stabbed me like a butchering knife…
You’re so heartless and pathetic…you’re a wreck
I’m tellin’ you to bother someone else, you lunatic
You have lost your only chance,
You repulsive prick
3 strikes…you’ve got no luck
I’ve given you escape routes and you weren’t grateful –
You don’t even say, “Thank you” for all of the things I do for you
3 strikes…
YOU SNOOZE. . . YOU LOSE. . .
Are you still a ruthless soul?
You’re hanging by a thread – and you haven’t got a clue
Go ahead!
Leave my presence,
YOU nuisance!
You're trying my patience...
I would leave if I were you...
I loathe your ignorance...
But, you just stand there like a fool!
You're taking advantage of me...
Throwing me out in the dumpster like a futile tool
--(Screw)-- you... Please leave me...
You have added to my anxiety
You have done enough
damage as it is...
An Aria Beyond A Silent Dream
Just yesterday, I was dreaming some love I’ll never have
And now I’m sitting all alone, smoking… this night
Some soul within that never was mine, seems to have left
Like falling stars crying so, fading upon its dying light
It was just like a dream, a dream which began it all
A fantasy I so thought, a reality now fought
The enigmatic world of The Ancients is the world I saw
Some place where life is only to belong to the rot
I was petrified from the sights of the ungodly world
And I fear even more shall come eventually my sleep
Betrayal portrays the poison mind from the green of an emerald
And I wonder if strength can still be drawn from hearts of the weak
Its been a while since, had the befallen and the defier appear
I’m lost and very much alone atween a portal through stolen time
Though the bond of a steel may assure the undead minions to fear
Yet dependency is a weakness without the drop of faith close behind
Be it so if I should sleep in reality, I’m awaken otherwise within
And upon awakening elsewhere, it isn’t simply a hallucinatory fantasy
And as once more, I walk the path beyond ancient’s dream
I saw a world lost upon where I stand alone, in complete solitary
{With the reality world shut away, despairing never fails to end
The darken haze aloof the skies were evidence of time bearing no when
Bodies in impossible millions lay lifeless as far as the eye can see
With the essence of blood weighing upon the breath of air so free
From where I stood, the battle before seems wearily over and forgotten
With my sword at hand, I was left mortified with delusions of the tragic moment
How is it, a glitter of hope can present itself from this nightmarish hell?
Yet I knew, extraordinary from ordinary isn’t just some words to praytell
I scan the bloodshed more intensely, knowing not what I may assume to find?
And I’m not alone… as something else was heard from behind
There was a voice, voicing sadness and sorrow in solemn aria
Singing perhaps to the heavens, yearning so to be heard from afar
I trail towards the tune and saw a figure standing atop a shadowy stone
Cloaked in an armour that at once suggested swiftness, as well a necklace of bones
And seen in her hand… she held a crypted bow
Where strap over her shoulder, was as well a quiver of arrows
Hush now, all little children by the shadows of night,
Don’t resist, beware let the sleep take you, be at an uneasy peace,
For resistance is futile against this dream stalker,
Whom travels on the brain waves, of the unconscious mind?
Apparitions Spector, a vaporous wraith living on our inner
Deepest fears, a vampire of nightmares, feasting at the
Edge of panics scream, hidden is he beneath the layers
Of our worst horrific night terrors.
Comprehensions undetectable intruder, a burglar forcing
Entry by the elliptical moons anti rational sliding door,
A corporeal beast, thriving on the adrenaline rush,
Of the flight or freight, factors throbbing heart beat!
He this untouchable, whom slides his icy fingertips down
The backs of humanity, causing the fine hairs our necks
To rise and flair, a tip toeing sadist walking the delicate
Tightrope of our thin vail of dreams, than striking at us
With dreads demonic weapon, as we the innocent
Victim slumbers in depths deepest REM sleep.
Oh is he not the bogeyman's sandman, with his dark
Seeded bag of mischievous tricks, cast over his silhouetted
Shoulder, sneaking in the hallowed shadows of the nights
Blackened embrace.
An invisible phosphorus troll, existing without form or mass,
Slithering as a nocturnal snake, hunting the stilled warm
Embodied essence of humanity while we sleep,
And laughing at us this vaporous jackal, while we
Choke on his black nightmarish moon dust of death.
Pray faithful child beneath the illusions of the lit divide,
For guardians protection while thy rest,
So you may awaken in the warming breath. of
The next morning’s sunrise, for at night the
Demon of nightmares stalks for the hearts of the
Innocence and he takes no prisoners.
Now some may say that this mythical legend is
Just a story to scare little children, to make them
Go to sleep at night without a fight.
But others know the real truth about this
Spirit beast of olden times, these the watchers
Of dreams, and they say beware the sandman,
For he is always waiting, aware, lying in the
Blackness abyss of mankind's nightmares.
A child's pray,
Now I lain me down to sleep,
I pray the lord my soul to keep,
For if I shall die before I wake,
I wish the lord my soul to keep,
And not the sandman to take!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Evening solitude
The walk was cold and lonely,
Interesting, I don't know, but this feeling always awaits me,
I don't need anything here or anywhere else.
Nothing, the night is waiting, I'll be invisible, I'm gone, reality flashes,
The reality was a delusion, and a deceptive blind world, a bright seduction,
My goodbyes will be eternal goodbyes. I know that there is eternal in me even then, and I will wake up somewhere else...
... And there will also be deadly desire and loneliness, which is an eternal companion...
The evening world, a nightmarish vision that embraces me and keeps me alive,
Me, to whom the world is a complete stranger, but knows everything and everyone, and there is no riddle for him,
But what's bad, I found myself. I defied fate, the reaper cut, I looked at my head, it fell, rolled, bounced further into the distance,
I laugh, my new face looks in the dark into the deep and dim distance,
And then the reaper opens a wine, fills the glasses, we toast, the wine has turned into blood in us,
Happy red tears running down my face,
The reaper smiles kindly at me, takes out the large and long package,
He unfolds it, it contains a scythe and a whetstone, and says:
Life didn't need you, you were killed by love, your love,
Don't worry, hell has stored everything about your life. Take the tool...
… and bring here all the suffering, the brokenhearted, the dying, the hopeless and the lonely…
My dear friend! Honorable Reaper! - I answer him - I happily accept the invitation, the invitation and the new life from you,
I promise that I will be a good night demon and that I will drag many souls here to the realm of hell,
Let them rejoice with us, since the suffering of their earthly life turned her into an endless euphoria of joy,
I know that here I don't need anything that gives me happiness, nothing, no pleasure,
The joy here will come naturally, and the souls who are still suffering in the earthly world will enjoy it a lot.
Suffering souls, don't give up
The hellish creatures cry bitterly over you,
We are waiting for you
There will be joy here, there will be no sorrow for earthly troubles,
After all, everything will be forgotten in that world.
And the pain there will shed flowers of joy and happiness here.
Had a moment to collect the tickets
Punching out the timecard to the apocalypse
A striptease stripper with syntax and enjambment
Graphic designer's valviloculus pleristaminis in an ordinary garden
Many try to pluck me as a weed
Aforetime rose from a park of simplicity
Frozen in a piece of sap, timeless; the shears remain
Closing their fists to pump in the air polluted with rabble
Always aiming fingertips at me
They never hear the caoineadh at the end of the block
Now I sit attentive, straight because I want to, and middle fingers up
Voice echoes that silences their babble
"All that power, and you aim it at the one helping others"
Shift in their stature but rictus in their feature
Unlike most times my voice is softest
"I've watched you let something beautiful die for the hue
Our ténèbres shade on the petals flew
Now it is alabaster, what say you?"
A murmuring mobster-made man moved maliciously
"You write horror that terrifies people
We don't want to be afraid anymore"
My feet slid on that cobblestone sidewalk towards him
"Then use your gifts as a weapon like you did in this moment
Why do you think you're afraid of my writing?"
The wind picked up speed and the sky became nightmarish
Rain poured in tidal waves, a bloodbath
"You killed poetry... and I'll never let you all forget that
You're afraid of failure... can still do something to save literature"
He shook his head side/side slowly
"We choose empathy"
"... well I choose Hurricanes"
Lightning in violet flowers above
One by one mechanical snakes slithering up, anacondas
Any that approached me were met with plasma
For a moment me that man and I made eye contact
Before he was wrapped, slowly squeezing out every word
Then swallowed whole and absorbed as data
Serpents hiss dial-up before leaving/leaving behind entrails
What was left for ourselves, for our children's children?
Pandora, I'm sorry, it can't be closed, hope is tainted
It keeps rising, waist, chest, neck, sanguinary baptism
My thoughts as the taste of iron kisses my lips
Was there anything but darkness, where is the light?
... It never existed, a myth that never came true
... I'll die knowing I did what I could, my hand remains unethical
"Astramentous inkling in a crystal bowl"
In a small café, customers stream through the door. I jot down orders that pile up as I wonder what’s happening in the back kitchen. The patrons are looking more and more displeased. I scurry table to table filling glasses running endlessly dry and simultaneously noticing the increasing number of empty napkin holders. Where’s the manager? Why is there nobody here but me? The order slips are almost gone. And now plates of food begin appearing in the back so quickly that I cannot recall to which table each one goes. I’m running and running, the proverbial dumb chicken but with its head still attached and throbbing! I hear the clamor of “Where’s our meal?” and more people keep entering through the door.
Now I find myself in a plain white-walled classroom of my school. The clock on the wall ticks on and on as students trickle through the door. Students sit staring as I search a pile of papers for the attendance sheet. The papers fall and I just know my lesson plan is lost among the scattered sheets. I bend to pick them up and my brain is a fog. What am I to teach? I sift through the disarray as ticking seconds become minutes, and a silence pierces me as I view the stony faces before me. I try to mouth words, but they simply won’t come. I can almost feel the fidgeting of the students as my upper lip begins to twitch. I know they are thinking me an imbecile. As I stand dumb stricken, time is fleeing, and more students are entering the room. . . . .
I awaken to the loud incessant ticking of the clock beside my bed. I’ll rise to greet my day, get into my car and meld with a stream of other people driving to their everyday jobs. There will be days that I encounter the cheerless or dissatisfied faces of strangers or even of family and friends. There will be times that I hasten frantically, feeling all is futile as bills pile up or work overwhelms me, and there are sure to be times when I will feel at an utter loss as I live vicariously the nightmarish woes which sometimes my husband must confront. How grateful I am for ordinary days whose hours of normalcy are heaven compared to the mind boggling misery endured throughout this world. And how thankful I am for ordinary days that greatly outnumber a few awful dreams!
Thee Apple Hove Bing an Herbivore...?
(hint – app peal)
Sans maintaining a strict carb on diet
(for Peat Sake) iz like really coal
man, cuz carnivores consume meat,
which genetically modified organisms
engender incredible non edible size foal,
these agribusiness farmed animals shot up
with synthetic hormones
spurring heightened development
accidentally, inadvertently, and unleashing
King Kong monstrous outrageous gnoll,
whereat each footfall taken
by scary creature resembling
a humanoid hyena
results in said frankenfood digging,
one after another humungous hole
resulting in dirt pile
cresting, kickstarting, and
rivaling a mini
spring mount tin knoll
necessitating massive
manhunt to cap cha
lurching, pounding, and thudding
beast whereat entire
motley crue all harkened
from places named Lowell,
nonetheless heil lee calf full
to arm themselves with more'n one
tranquilized tipped pole
anachronistic cautionary expedition generating
masterfully baiting monster
with immense gritty buttered roll,
whose gargantuan ramp
aging spree across
world wide web
found endangered population
tuff lee from their
picturesque enclave i.e. Floss
on the Mill as zee unbridled
quasi jabberwocky took a selfie gloss
silly attired (trumpeting
"FAKE" ska don face mask)
likening pulling up moss
as coiffed "hair...hm..." all the while
gabbling, instagramming,
snapchatting, and toss
sing fearsome Frankenstein
with especial bent toward
those sharing surname Voss
in tandem to flagrant
disregard to paradigm
housing hefty prime
statutes of grammatically
correct syntactical rhetoric, plus rhyme
ming showcasing a novel
discovered talent to enrich pantheon
until the end of time.
since times of auld
where linkedin note able people
(some long haired others bald)
plaintively, suddenly, and called
urgently to be importantly installed
to brainstorm figuring a solution
to vanquish, nightmarish,
and hellish abominable madness!
I am a Cafeteria Christian,
I am a Cafeteria Christian through and through,
Are you?
I am a Cafeteria Christian because while I believe it is God breathed,
All of Christian Scripture doesn’t speak to me,
Not all of it illuminates me to see my Savior as he really is,
I quote Christian Scripture more than most,
And yet it is love that guides me more than any word written on a page,
Christians who believe that the Bible is the Word of God usually inspire me more than most,
For the quality of their devotion and the fervor of their worship is astounding,
But I believe that God gave me an imagination for a reason,
And I see God more fully through imagining a mother of pure love,
Thank the litigious vision of my brothers and sisters being thrown into a lake of fire to writhe for all eternity.
In my mind’s eye my heart shows me every human soul embracing Jesus in the hereafter with tears of gratitude in their eyes,
In my mind’s eye my heart shows me ever Satan himself prostrate before our Savior with tears of contrition in his eyes, begging Jesus for a second chance,
And then I see Jesus embracing him and saying “I forgive you brother. Now sing me a song like in the old days.”
Christian Scripture must be beautiful for just consider the way that those who believe it worship God in transcendent ecstasy with tears in their eyes,
And Christian Scripture must be sacred for how could so many verses in it guide my life and give me hope if they weren’t sacred from the heart of the Mother herself.
But in the end, the dreams that get me through nightmarish moments have more to do with the Holy Spirit guiding and illuminating me directly and less with anything written.
I am a cafeteria Christian because some of the dreams that God has given me cannot be found in the bible and yet they are too beautiful too ignore.
Love is my obsession. And even as I am healed of obsession, Love is my master, and even as I am healed of slavery, love is my best friend.
And Christian Scripture speaks of love, yes it does, it does so beautifully..
But love has more to say than can be found in the 66 books of the Bible.
And I for one want to hear every last word!!
There’s a fury on the waves
A madness taking place
Fueled by the blood
Of weary wage slaves
And they taught us how to hate
In a hi tech kind of way
Made us meat puppets
For the wars they wage
In a playground, running round
In a playground, being clowns
Weren’t we once kids
Just kicking a ball?
Laughing ‘bout everything
Nothing at all
In a playground, ‘neath the sun
In a playground, having fun
Weren’t we once kids
Thought war is a game?
Fall over dead
And jump up again
(Hey, hey, what do you want to say?}
Don’t want to lose my legs
In defense of larceny
The banksters stealing billions
From the national Treasury
Don’t want to take a bullet
Left coughing up blood
For your right to a lap dance
At some faraway club
Don’t want to suck my meals
Through a thin feeding tube
On behalf of profiteers
Dealing addicts their crude
Don’t want to wheeze harshly
Hooked to a machine
In the service of ingrates
And all that’s obscene
Don’t want to suffer flashbacks
Those nightmarish screams
While billionaires lullaby
To private jet dreams
Nobody’s tool, nobody’s fool.
NO!!!!
In a world so long ago
In a world we used to know
Weren’t we once kids?
Who sang funny songs
No thoughts of torture
Phosphorous bombs
In a world so long ago
In a world we used to know
Weren’t we once kids?
Who rode on our bikes
Vampires scared us
Not nuclear strikes
(Hey, hey, what do you want to say?)
There’s a fury on the waves
A madness taking place
Fueled by the blood
Of weary wage slaves
There’s a world of growing horror
Where a playground stood before
And it ‘s time to stop
This lunatic war
There’s a world of growing horror
Where a playground stood before
And it’s time to stop
This murderous war
There’s a world of growing horror
Where a playground stood before
And It’s time to stop
This sickening war
There’s a world of growing horror
Where a playground stood before
And it’s time to stop
This bloody awful war
Let’s bring back our playground
Stop this war
Let’s restore our playground
Stop this war…
Yes, it’s time
(yes it’s time)
Time to STOP THIS WAR!