Long Outline Poems
Long Outline Poems. Below are the most popular long Outline by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Outline poems by poem length and keyword.
just an average typical morning within this same old town
avoiding all the neighbors that nosily creep these grounds
while all these other folks keep busy bodying gossiping and all
who has whiter teeth, bigger boobs, or the cutest guy at the mall
i stopped at the library to dodge all these illiterate snots
the only place that's quite enough for me to organize my thoughts
i walked in just to be stopped, breathless, dead in my tracks
a book, not made of paper or even hard back
binding was some type of stitched authenticism
bound with a beautiful articulate collage of pattern to it
I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it
I stood there for a second, which felt like a lifetime
must have been reading stars, because it left my mind blind
if only just once I could hold that masteredpiece written classic
I can't lie it was perfect man, I just had to have it
I gasped for a moment, dead in my body
frozen and stunned hoping nobody saw me
it crossed my mind for a split, then, I thought
nah ****
if I get caught I'd be a goner, but I just couldn't wait any longer
I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it
I darted for that case in a flash and I shattered that glass
busted it open, like I was late for literature class
static shocked a little as the book touched my hand
it was in that moment i knew i was the #1 fan
then it wasn't long I realized it was written for me
initials imprinted so there was no questioning
I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it
I fell deep into the title it really 'hit a line'
bold, italics, with a dedication underlined
I wasn't sure why I needed or wanted to own it
but I would have searched forever if I would have known it
searching every library for a perfect story
all the titles and endings just really seem to bore me
this one was special I just wanted to trace over the print
read. every small detail. no need for suspense
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…
The weather was just how I liked it
Looking like it would stay dry
The breeze had the sharp tinge of winter
Beneath a low overcast sky
The thick blackthorn hedgerow behind me
Bordered the tangled beech wood
In front was a sowing of Rape seed
The shooting from here should be good
The ditch in which I was standing
Was shallow and recently dried
I put up my camouflage netting
As kind of a temporary hide
I looked across my field of fire
It spread further than buckshot would reach
So I opened my trusty old twelve bore
And slipped two Eley five’s in the breach
I saw something off in the distance
Out on the old bridal trail
I knew straight away it was Reynard
I could see the white tip on his tail
This dog fox was working the hedgerow
Looking for something to eat
In a week or two he won’t be hunting
For vixens will soon be on heat
Then came a sound to my left side
I heard the dry rustle of leaves
I eased off the safety catch gently
And stood still not daring to breathe
Nearby from a patch of dead Teasel
A Pheasant was poking its head
It’s wattles were white as a snowflake
Round it’s eye was a dash of bright red
It’s head and neck seemed to change colour
With a green and blue oil like sheen
It sported a thin clear white collar
The clearest one I’d ever seen
Cautiously into the open
It was only three meters away
I was stunned by it’ breathtaking beauty
This vision is with me today
It looked like a fowl made of copper
Each breast feather tinged with a Pink
And edged with the finest black outline
As if they’d been sketched in with ink
It’s wings were a blend of dark ochre
Mingled with olive brown hue
It’s tail was two thirds of a meter
What was this hunter to do
Quite unaware of it’s danger
It slowly strolled on to the crop
Carefully I raised my shotgun
But something inside me said STOP
No way could I fire at this vision
This beauty by me won’t be shot
I came to an instant decision
Find something else for the pot
I have enjoyed many a pheasant
Washed down with a bottle of red
The countryside here would be poorer
If this lovely creature was dead
The bird by now had become bolder
and had wandered some distance away
With an unloaded gun on my shoulder
I went home having had a good day
I will have bread and cheese for my supper
Form:
Children of Guernica
Children of Guernica .
In deserts of no mans land
children play among the dead
killer themes from killer kings
what is the song they sing
comes raining down in
shrews of blood
Bombs burst though silent
air beyond the red glare
where mothers and children lie bare
In scripted carcasses of crumbling bricks
amidst the city streets
broken bodies limbs screaming
wombs of agonizing cries of despair
dropping down death from above
in the safety of the night
rivers of blood and angels of death
circle from high above
Sleep of sleepless dreams lie amidst the decaying corpses
children dressed in delicate dressings
starch white linen in ghostly silence
the lambs laid out to rest
Once so shocking citizen casualties
now so common collateral damage
distill the horrors of war
deadly games on computer screens
without touch or smell
Rage distorting the outline of shadow
horse’s teeth open wide to the sun
and necrophilia battle cries of death
stand still like ghosts amongst the dying flames
Wounded Pegasus gaping
requiems for generations yet to come
hypnotized to drum beats of war
where monsters of the id come alive
in the cradles of scorched earth lit destruction
Children born to such things
wander through the deserted streets
where there is no home to rest
sleep the dream of children
Lower at dawn their veils
through broken clocks time stands still
And tides rise over setting moons
amidst the lambs spheres of love vanishes
in landscapes of pain
Minotauromachy rises amidst the dead
monatours of death die slow
when swords turn to plowshares
iron bombs to gates that open
the hearts of wounded men
hush a by don’t you cry
go to sleep my little babies
In the meadows lie the little lambs
friends of the western winds
leave tortures on the bleeding grass
in lust for blood and shadows of fears
Moons of serpents awake before the dawn
crucible of blood cast bare amidst
the trembling wheat
street symphonies of stripped flesh
hanging from the poplar trees
Instruct us of our internal natures
inner conflicts and battlegrounds of distress
death instincts and dark knights of the soul
of tragedies and waste doorways through hell
and roots of indignant screams
Distorted
My face is distorted
Is my real face even showing?
I don't know if I'm experiencing my true feelings
My love is true is yours?
I demand you and you shut the door in my face repeatedly
We have many years together and yet we have nothing
Our children see the real you
The real person I have seen since day one
I can't believe you let your love for society get in the way of my innocents
How dare you?
I have to be everything to them and it's not fair to them
They will grow up knowing I was the only consistency in their wee lives
Where is the outline for me?
Do you hear my screams? What about the silent ones?
I go without so much because my wee little ones need more than I
What do you go without?
I look in the mirror at myself
Who is looking back at me?
Is this really me? Is this really my life?
I stood by you through so much
The things you did the things you said to me
You have hurt me like no other has and yet I'm still here are you?
Emotionally I'm not here, My heart stays here, But I can't figure out where my mind is
Or where it all belongs?
I'm so torn, so broken, so numb
I guess I'm just going to be distorted for the rest of my time with you
I promised I would love you through everything and I have but where is the outline?
I don't see the real me and haven't in a long time thanks to you
I don't even do my hobbies anymore I just sit and watch the world as I call life pass by
Why do you want our wee little innocents to see this? what would posses you to?
If I broke my promise would I be submitted to the pits for enternity?
I gained so much and yet I lost more much
You hurt me with life itself and nothing but fear
Can you honestly tell me what have you lost you entire life?
It feels like a band-aid that I just can't take off no matter how I rip it off
Do I wear a mask over me? Does anyone see the real me anymore?
I hurt so much with you but yet I loved you for so long
I can't accept your I'm sorry pity excuses anymore
Is my face nothing to you? Does it mean nothing to you?
My heart feels so much anger, depression, emotions of not being wanted
Do you or have you ever felt this way?
I don't know what to believe in anymore
I feel like paper and I'm being torn into a million pieces
Or what if you are putting me through a paper shredder?
Is the real me even showing?
I'm distorted
The steam slowly raises from inside my mug, wrapping itself around my pencil, eventually
evaporating into the musty atmosphere.
As I open my sketchbook I imagine all the possibilities of a world inside my head, but today
I’ll stick to what I do best.
I place pencil to paper and within seconds her eyes blaze like wildfire, a look of pure
mystery and a feeling of seductiveness.
Her nose is sly and round with a slight creek to the left in a cute and attractive way, I pick up
my cup and take a sip before moving on.
I sketch a swiftness of lines as a base to what will later become a sea of hair, my hand slides
down to her neck, she is beautiful.
I rub my eyes, it’s late now and my candle is starting to burn out, her shoulders are broad,
not to wide but slightly long.
I run the tip of my lead around her soft breast, they sag slightly at the bottom but I don’t
care, as I draw in her hips.
You could place your hands on hips like this and hold them for a lifetime, I move my pencil
up to her waist, I prefer the fuller figure.
I realise my tea has turned stone cold as I take her soft hand into mine, we dance around
the page between the flowers and tree’s.
I look into her eye’s of blazing fire and draw in the final outline of her hair, I think it would
look good light blue with green streaks.
I draw in her thighs as my pencil runs down her long smooth legs…. No, I take my eraser
and rub out her legs as I change my mind.
Instead I think I’ll have her legs disappear into a mist, her dress of gold and black sparkling
in the cold midnight air.
I draw in the tears as she cry’s, for no more life has she ever known, we walk through night,
as I hold her hand she rests her head upon my shoulder.
We take a seat on a newly sketched bench next to a fountain over flowing with water of the
darkest blue, and she sighs.
I get from out of my chair and fill the kettle, as the water boils I contemplate her fate, I pour
my drink and sit down at my desk, I get to work.
Her arms out spread and a smile on her newly formed gentle lips, I draw a sparkle into her
tears, then as I place the finishing touches I rip out the page.
The frame is cheap but not tacky, I placed her on the wall above my desk,
Where next to a crystal fountain of water blue and dark,
She can dance forever.
2:45 am
I set my case in the corner, empty the picks from my pocket
and kick off my shoes, it was a great night
She tosses her purse on the couch, blows me a kiss
and heads to the kitchen, I love watching her
I can hear her humming that song, our song
A few candles lit, she returns with a couple of beers, some lemon and salt
Plops down on the couch next to me with a giggle
Puts her feet up on the coffee table
A swallow of beer, knowing I’d rather swallow her
Leaning over I kiss her, soft and warm
She climbs over my lap, straddling me
Kissing more passionate, more intense
She pulls off my Kurt Cobain T and caresses my chest
Her moist lips find my neck, it becomes hot in here
I remove her shirt over her up stretched arms,
set it aside and hold her close
Her skin feels so good on mine
as our lips once more collide in passion’s desires
My mouth traces the outline of her beautiful body,
she grips my head and guides me
Flickering candle light dances, creating twin rhythmic shadows
I grab a lemon slice, dripping its tart juice on her flesh
It tastes so good, her skin becomes my lemonade
as her love adds just the right amount of sugar
“That’s for the beer dummy,” she laughs
but she doesn’t stop me, why would she
Her hands on my shoulders, she leans back
and her soft moans are now my music, her body my stage
Biting my ear she whispers, “Rock me, rock star,”
She knows I like that, even though I’m not, she makes me feel that way
I stand, lifting her with me, her legs wrap my waist, kissing,
arms tightly about my neck, and carry her to the bed
Sirens blare outside the window, normal for this hour in the city,
as we fall atop the gold comforter, collapsing as one
I gaze into her gorgeous eyes, still sparkling even in the darkness
“I love you Baby” I say, she smiles that enchanting smile and sighs…
”Prove it rock star, play me”
Please check out parts 1, 2 and 3 if you get a chance
The 6th Street I am talking about is in Austin Texas. It is the center of the musical world in that city. You can find any kind of music you like being played live in any of a number of different clubs on this street
There are 4 parts to this series if you care to see them. Actually there are 5, but # 5 would probably be a bit much for this site.
It plagues my mind… the silence
That is truth, when the roar
Of this place, this eternal thunder
Pounding away at the stillness
A stardust sky, shimmering – graceful
Promising the heart to bring, rather
Quiet, yet piercing peace, colored in hues
Radiating musings of memory,
Beckoning to the wonders inside of me,
Feelings blessed by the hand of God
Feelings that are trembling, alive
It startles my thoughts… the kindness
Naked kisses, embraces surreal,
Like lavender sunsets or reflections
On moonlit dreams, erasing the darkness
Laughing at the shadows, eager to be
Touched by the light, the intense glimpse,
A spark of imagination, soothing
Arising on the breathless ambiance, the
Stirrings of beauty surrounded by faith
Enlightening the eternal praises, poured
Out in prayers, petitioning the most
Wonderful, astonishing spirit known –
The spirit of One so great that only His
Light can bring hope to the broken heart
It is His love that guarantees me the truth
Will rouse my devotion, clarify every broken
Thought, encourage all those doubts,
Saving my soul from the dread that comes
When there are lingering fears, tears
Sliding along the lines of a faded feeling
Who believes that the truth will never
Take away the pain that follows the grief
Remembering only the silhouette, the
Outline of a whispered verse, poetry
Found in the word He gave each of us,
The word that reveals the truth to us…
The word that is alive, breathing
Into us – the music of eternal peace,
The miracle that is His gift to each one
Who believes in His Son – the Savior, the love
That beats in rhythm with each verse found
In the scriptures, sweet songs expressing
Forgiveness, God’s gift to those who believe
He is the answer to every need
He is the hope and faith – He is the wonder
Abiding with us when we feel His peace
Surrounding our spirit with this tender feeling!
It is grace – It is light – it is love from above
That hushes the shame and frees my heart
To listen to the wonder of His eternity, His gift
Forever and always – His love surrounds me –
Gentling each piece of me with
His understanding, His wisdom, His sympathy
The miracle of His compassion
Laced through each tear, each dream, each echo
From the hope that reminds me –
His love defines me!
A rocky road we’ve through I know
But Hostility, is not how to solve it though
Things will never work out if we don’t love one another
Because here in this country, we are sister and brother
We outline our government sadly on the past
Which may be the reason we are starting to crash
Listening to the tone, that’s planted all in your ear
Enraging you with hate, racism, and fear
Though the civil rights laws have been passed and enforced
The unity of the union is still in tragic divorce
Maybe it’s all because we tend to be afraid of change, a coward
Making our homeland , the land not of the free, but of the sour
We all tend to, hate others because they are not like you
A human instinct, I don’t deny it’s truth
But sometimes inside ourselves we have to set that aside
And look at the new way in the light of our eyes
Ours eyes will not deceive us, that’s a promise I will keep
I promise you also, that I’m tired of seeing this land weep
Its been wrapped into a package, whose seal will just not break
Change in America, seems to be to much for us to take
Explain to me, what is race anyway, is it allowed to be defined
Is caring for any other race still considered to be a crime
A crime made up by all of us its so, not just by the white citizens
Oh yes, there’s just as much ignorance in Hispanic, Asian, native, and Afro men.
See, what you are failing to recognize is that this is the melting pot
Been around for two hundred years, and this caldrons still hot
The fire seems to just have started and it continues on
Serving up a new kind of man, and new type of Adam’s son
See if race is true, then American is a race alone
Because in its fine fabrics, to many races are sown
That’s why when I look, at an American like me
I see an identical person, an identical race to see
Colors, oh colors, you ask why they are so
It’s just the pigment in your skin that anyone can get you know
We all make beautiful children together, and their smiles tend to be white
Can’t you see that in this day and time, it’s time we truly unite
Say goodbye to the past, whip it all away, and focus on the future time
Where America well not fall , but climb
Out of this terrible, dreadful Abyss of horror
Get your transportation, because we are moving forward.
Form:
INT. SCENE 1 – THE AWAKENING – DAY
FADE IN:
It was born in a test tube,
Twitching organic mass, form skewed.
They fed it chaos and it grew.
More tests ordered. More data due.
They poked it daily for a phase,
Kept in an incubator daze.
Mesmerising to watch,
This new form scared of touch.
It was secret, shrouded in myth.
No regret subverting parental shift.
They caged it for safety,
They said.
It would rage, unsure of identity.
It bled.
But did it feel pain? Skins shed.
The question kept being asked.
They poked again—curiosity unmasked.
-
EXT. SCENE 2 – THE ESCAPE – NIGHT
The compound was a proud facility,
A bastion of societal stability.
But they had no idea what they had.
They didn’t know it was sad,
Or how that rage would come in waves—
Bursts of fury none could brave.
Of course it escaped.
It saw trees, tried their shape.
Standing gave no thrill,
So it moved on with sentient will.
No longer content to mimic or mirror—
Its form turned strange, its outline unclear.
INSERT: NEWSCAST AUDIO
“Smelly blob terrorizes locals—”
It became the talk of social vocals.
It smells, it looks forlorn.
It better behave or be clearly gone.
Edges undefined,
Obscure and growing all the time.
Tentacles and warped limbs,
A head that could be a stomach—or wing.
A sight to shake your footing if you dared to look up.
It reached the city, tore buildings down.
Huge now, destruction for a crown.
It stomped, it thrashed, toward the centre bound.
And the scholars in their coats
Poked again—
It hollered, several guttural throats.
-
EXT. SCENE 3 – THE BATTLE – DAY
They didn’t know what it was—so they tried to destroy it.
It ran amok. We can’t employ it.
We can’t live with what we can’t control.
We mustn’t underestimate our role.
Kill the beast.
Then—it spoke.
CAMERA PANS IN – THE MONSTER SPEAKS
I’m ill-formed.
You brought me here, gave me these tools.
I don’t know what I am either,
But I’m trying to find where I belong.
To roam, to take shape.
I want your help—
But I won’t get it.
In the tube, I felt defined.
Out here, misplaced.
Scared and angry feel the same.
If I must be killed,
Aim for the head—
But tell me first…
Where that is.
FADE OUT: sirens stop, dust settles, silence.