Long Noir Poems

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


Premium Member Bait

Watch out! 
She plays the seduction game 
too well, my friend.
Be careful now! 
Just the flick of her eyelid
hypnotizes 
benighted meek men.
Her come-hither wink,
enough to reel in
fishes big and small.

Tread with caution!
Don't fall for her charms.
She's a dangerous spider
luring unsuspecting prey
into her sticky, intricate web
with an enticing bait.
Beware!
She's led legions of men
to utter destruction
like a film noir femme fatale.

Now she's trying 
to add me
to her sizeable collection of fools;
casting in her fishing reel,
waiting for me 
to rise to the bait,
but little does she know,
I'm neither fish nor fool.
I stay out of the water,
because I can't swim!


Skeleton Speakeasies

Lover, Lover
The nighttime sings our names
Ballads of the figurative Juliet 
Radios hiss hearts spilled the shadows hide naked ambition stilled
Neglected emotional hills wafts through valleys of past lives
Karmic backlogs review their closing percentages
Futures flood the floors hold the line between fate and tears
Shadow people alone in the twilight
Illuminated letters, walls woed to sleep
Dreams from the shoreline as phantom vessels waltz on the silver linings 
Postures of stable footing, top of the line, kings and queens of value
Thumbs circle the knuckles, bone kisses bone, the familiar taste of home
Haunted hems lines explored in tribal pursuits
Please keep me waiting
The specter of tender frames evaporates
Morning ghosts caress the memory in travel
Neckties versus deadlines
Power brokered, breath that betrays the dream
Folded napkins
Cocktail napkin epitaphs 
Check please
© Mike Stott  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Wheels of Dharma

Blood from blood, bone from bone,
Under the partially eclipsed moon of a burgundy-red sky,
A murder of crows gathers on the barren carcass of branches,
Whilst mist clings to a chipping tombstone.

Hardened petrichor shifts ever so slightly,
Awaiting the awakening of revenge incarnate.
The witching hour is almost upon us;
Noir-cloaked figures emerge from the passing shadows.

A High Priestess holds firm an ancient Book of Shadows.
As the metaphysical clock strikes two,
Yellowed pages frantically flip to an incantation.
The underlings take their positions at the four corners,
While she takes her place in the center.

Chanting the passage simultaneously, resurrection is forthcoming,
As shrivelled nightshade blooms to ritualistic life
And the paramount witch returns from her unsettled slumber.

The Wheels of Dharma turn in their favour.
Scorched lands and vengeance follow,
As Armageddon ushers in a new era.
© Sara Jama  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Repertoire

We all danced to the point of being entranced
With a woman so willful and so beautiful.
We all believed we were the ones in control
With a woman who in truth captivated our soul.

We all advanced into her desires while entranced
With a woman so cheerful and so colourful.
We all knew she had tried to be oh so careful
With our hearts she held in a way so mindful.

We all danced separate times in her repertoire,
We all had seen how she is willing to go so far.
We all fell for the same siren of a woman,
While we refuse to show who is the better man.

We all adore her for all the things we learned
When she made the most of what she earned.
We all loved her like we were in a romantic noir
While little did we know we are her repertoire.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Wine Song

Chianti, Riesling, Chardonnay;
What kinda wine we gonna have today?
Pass that bottle, if you please -
I think I'll have a little more Chablis!

Swirl that stuff 'round in the glass...
Show 'em all that you got class!
Has it got the nose? Has it got the look?
Can you use it when you cook?

     Wine, Wine, Wine
     All hail the Grape Divine!
     Wine, Wine, Wine
     Makes everyone feel fine!
     You got yours, I got mine -
     Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine!

Sniff that bouquet up yer nose;
"What's the Year, d'you suppose?"
Could be red, could be white -
Either way, we're havin' wine tonight!

Truckin' on down to da liquor store;
Runnin' out - gotta get some more!
The folks at the counters all know my face -
I practically live down at the place!

     Wine, Wine, Wine
     All hail the Grape Divine!
     Wine, Wine, Wine
     Makes everyone feel fine!
     You got yours, I got mine -
     Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine!

Tokay, Shiraz, Pinot Noir!
I ain't never seen so many wines before!
Step right up and take a  taste -
I ain't gonna let a single drop go to waste!

     Wine, Wine, Wine
     All hail the Grape Divine!
     Wine, Wine, Wine
     Makes everyone feel fine!
     You got yours, and I got mine -
     Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine, Wine!
Form: Lyric


Premium Member The Night Witches

Night witches own the dark, as they sweep the skies on their knotted broomsticks. They take to flight, in pairs, on the waxing moon or new moons, when the sky is darkest, the stars at their dimmest and gloom the deepest. They steal souls, drink warm blood, gather teeth and fresh, human meat. 

They drift, smoke-like, with noir-intent, chewing their charcoal treats in that imperfect silence that prickles with all the sounds of the earth: growing plants, creeping insects, rustling leaves, and shivering birds.

Although their stygian laughter is frequently mistaken for cat fighting, they are soundless, becoming the shadows that disturb, that draw startled glances from the periphery of vision. 

In their dark-passing, a mother will check her sleeping children one more time - dogs will whimper and fathers, the hair on their neck standing, will check already-locked windows.

Are you meandering out this night - to walk the dog or check the mail? If so, look to the sky. A little decision can be the worst mistake of your life.

Premium Member In the Mist

We decided to take a walk.
If the moon and stars still existed,
they were hidden behind clouds.

Then a fog hit us like a wave, a cloud 
that had run out of gas and crashed on us,
to further shrink the perceptible world.

Ordinary, walking people became vague 
phantoms that could loom, in film noir 
black and white out of the fog, 
suddenly sharpen and colorize,
only to disappear again in moments.

Sounds, out of sync, or garbled, came sharply 
from odd angles, turning that fifth sense unreliable.
Noises, at first muted, were abruptly amplified as
if the hand of that ghostly vapor ran a soundboard.

A man, moving in stalker-like silence, clops,
like a clydesdale on cobblestone as he passes close.

I half expected a distant fog horn to announce 
the passing of a ghost ship where all be welcome.

Risque Triplets

      Clover superlative lovers, sprung via same stem
      Umbrella immunity protects sprites supple
      Filter purity lacy leaf shade kindly dapples them
      

      Desiree samples pitchfork debauch, spicy morsel
      Charcoal meats mesh ashes as a couple 
      Ambidextrous temptress directs a dirty rehearsal 


      Slides snakelike under bellies of cavernous crime
      Noir nymph' s naughty retorts immortal 
      Eclipses mens' deception with suspense sublime


      Renee seeps charisma, dripped dagger stalactites 
      Fever lucid rouge cog spins fire's scorch
      Sword slung blood hungry royalty raunchily ignites 


      Challenges zealous volunteers alter ideal rhythm 
      Their arteries' iron absorbed easily by hers
      Victims slump lethargic in archer's hearty system
      

      Daisy cartwheels through clouds of chaste cherubs
      Recklessly devours disappearing desserts
      Meringue marries her tongue to immaculate merit

      
      Sunrise serene promise of peace glides with dove
      Subtle touch petal's glitter silken sensual 
      Agitates a fragile ego to dream unconditional love 
   
      
       Virgin indulges a glutton with wedding splendour
       Impulsive maid skips in fields plentiful 
       Expressive poses pollinate their dramatic detour


        Reunited trio resplendent, red black white card
        Dervish of dizzying seductive curses
        Climb dandelion conducted, an angel on guard 
      

      


                    26th April 
        Tantalising Apparitions!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Film Noir

The melody is haunting me
Black and white, an old TV

A darkened room, the smoke perfume
insults the sense of right and wrong
Elbows rest upon a bar

Heads are bent, to hide the scars
and troubled souls have found a throne
Some will find a well known home
in a shot-glass of a song

A clarinet has cried the blues
A secret lies with deep regret
Who cares that no one gives a rip?

It's just enough to face the night
Another place to roll the dice
And once again, when tears have dried
they'll leave this place
without a face
to walk away without a trace
leaving me to wonder who
has left me in this darkened room
alone





Written while listening to Billie Holiday

Tableau Noir Part 1

I recall primary school as if it were yesterday.
Pencil and notebooks, not like today. 
I recall in primary school, there was always respect. 
But now, it seems to have fallen on deaf ears the meaning.. such regret.

I recall in primary school, getting sent to the office shaking in absolute fear.
Nowadays a kid gets called. Who cares, they mock and cheer.
I recall in primary school, some pupils being held back a year. 
Nowadays all passing grades, forcing the child to fall behind, they had to follow their peers.

It's truly sad that yesteryear has not shown the way.
It seems like holding them back will never come back one day.
I recall highschool. For me it was a lot of fun.
But if you failed, there was really no place to run.

I recall highschool, yes you had your cliques.
But knowing this, I was certain to always had my wits.
I never followed, I tried more to lead.
Skipping class, made you an ass.
This is fact..... indeed!

Please go to Part 2
Pls comment and rate. Thank you
© Manon Peel  Create an image from this poem.

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