Long Panic stricken Poems

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


Manic By Design

Too fast! It hurts!
It travels at lightspeed!
Ruins calm. More than I need!
Help me please!
This monster brings me to my knees!
Wild eyed. Animal's panic.
No reason. Life is just Titanic.
Too much to see, need, read.
Copious substance.
Im a glutton when I feed.
I would give anything to be basic!
I would give anything to erase it!
This twisted mind is my gift.
Still it warps my heart.
Tears it bit by bit.
I feel it as physical pain.
Shakey hand searching in vain.
Sanity sand in cerebral hourglass.
Answer me! How long will this last?!
Broken record of my life.
Deathmarch tune of it's fife.
Calls me from slumber often.
Hoping in time it will soften.
Harsh assault on my senses.
God hated me enough to give this sentence.
I'll see him someday.
I have a few things to say.
Why was this spell cast upon me!?
Too much for any brain to see!
My central motor runs too fast!
How long can the hardrive last?!
Sometimes I think of my creator.
A hand deserving a slap!
Made a creature crave love and calm.
You loaded him with a confusing psalm.
Pulled from the inside out.
To many directions to account.
Sleeplesly I suffer at night!
I weep!...enduring the blight.
Panic stricken I'm too full!
Why can't my life be more dull?!
Why can't the thoughts be culled?!
Everything is overly mulled!
I just want to rest and find respite.
I'm too tired to put up a fight.
Give me slumber, its not fair!
Show me, god, that you even care!
I feel wind scattered.
Its never really mattered.
I sullenly sit completely shattered.
This is my life's chatter.
Often this feeling makes me feel crazy!
Respect me the truth! 
Why and for what did you design me!?
Answer me!
Where is the key!
You gave me this foreign map.
I can't read it!
My mind slips darkly,
And I dont even know how to bereave it.
So I stumble on.
Sanity taking hit after hit.
Either you're dead or you don't see.
Pretty lame product,
For such an exorbitant fee.
I guess it will run it's course.
My manic mind tortures 
with extraordinary force.
You left me again, on my own!
...........Maybe you're not there.
............You never answer the phone!
Maybe, I speak to the air.
I guess we all live and die...
having existed...
.......quite alone.

-Angel Fatale-
© Ryan Tyler  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Woke Gastroenterologist Mary Kathleen Friedland

Prescribed blood tests
present no qualms,
unlikely nothing askew i.e.
ticking time bombs
nor prone to catastrophization,

albeit anticipatory anxiety
plus demeanor of poetically titled
medical practitioner allays, calms
alleviates agitation exhibited
by dad's and/or mom's

panic minimizes si? no sweaty palms,
nonetheless precautionary measure taken
thumbing apostle Matthew psalms
ayee feel grateful relatively
clean bill of health.

Nine thirty morning
appointment earlier today
September tenth two
thousand nineteen no way
found yours truly bright

tailed, and bush shay
eyed, cuz mine circadian rhythm
(reed sleepiness), I cannot betray,
yet medical plight concerning
bowel movement analogous to clay

stool pigeons ever ray
now and again plague me: hay
4 four at aye
oh elle dot com, alias math they
you scott harris happy as jay

bird for personable rapport
she, said practitioner did display
offering friendly feedback
proactive measures to avoid
finding mine psyche

analogously scrambled (think) souffle
even absent such agreeable
pharmacological medications keep at bay
panic stricken state
seeding additional gray

hairs (matter of fact
synthesized prescription -
pills selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors)
only necessitate small copay
Medicare bonafide dogsend

whereby nurse practitioner equal
however much she doth weigh,
in salt, though an oft worn cliché
feather in her cap coup d'état
personable, laudable, hospitable...

winning accolades regarding
humbleness and modest stay
expertise within her craft hoop fillet
staving off general mills concerns

reason I wrote rhyme, eh somewhat passé
even Mister Ed would neigh say
so with his horse sense to stirrup
unbridled jollity - me hoof finds rein
ching words cathartic je ne sais quois

experimenting with this, that,
or t'other typed out array,
perhaps hashtagged as tripe courtesy quay
zee poor ah shunned poet fray
ming tropes distinguished (ha)

even if garnering no pay
English language I play
juxtaposing incongruities
to tease out reactions probably lay

build rickety lettered edifices
manuscripts best sentenced to sauté
within steaming vat
fed as swill to petsmart hogs
grunting as they fertilize mulch greenway.

Word Game Conversation (Part 2)

to cut down tridents of false truths that men gather ......they peace and plan for 
tomorrow,  but I can't understand why they have such a nothing plan
in power  the rich....they control us all....but who, in the beginning took the fall? 
 it was Adam and not Eve...even though the truth to this Myth is only 
contradictory...I want to discover the entire story
       My version is that the Adam & Eve just proove that man's will                       
betrayed                God            himself for a naked piece of ass
 of Mary Magdaline...of Colassis of Rhodes...of Panic stricken garbage talking 
politicians that we have since known....
 not so simple...located in a dimple of time....that's why I continue to rasp and 
rhyme.....
 loss of Innocence ...with fig leaf of grievance....is no true explanation...I liken to 
the anthropologist...who once said...the Egyptians knew more than history;....

Their knowledge contemplation...in every conglomeration...can only execute 
phases of ordered information ordered by the One
Blashephy...you quell??  Well, it's much better than an inordinant pre destined 
hell...
        lol
what the Roman Catholocs take for truth is what they have been shoving down 
the throats of innocents since religion became the rule
which is so much just a ruling tool for those in power over those who have 
nothing.....it's insane
        I agree
 and I rhyme off into  the eve...just ask me another word......and I'll pull it out me 
sleeeve..
        lol

 laugh out loud doesnt' qualify


 i'm mister bright side...
        yes, Ur and I really like that
        I'm miss glass half empty but always see the water near, lol
and I'm a water bearer - dear...

        yes, Ur
 an Aquarian to the core..I look towards ways to gradually restore....
Images of gratuitous purity.....or right...the young don't understand security....
 sometimes I think that I think too much....but what does that mean...?   the cause 
and the effect and the in between...
        Sometimes I think too much and  it wasn't really about much it all
in the end....but at the time..it is sublime

Game Over

8/3/21


When I get drunk I smoke THC like a chain smoker
Never been able to stay sober
A new day and hangover
Stand in the way and it's game over
It's time I take over
These fools can't even play poker
All they care about is their Range Rover
Burn 'em down with a flamethrower
Then follows a strange odor

Dagnabbit
On this planet
At times, I nearly had it
Sick of always being an addict
And such pitiful habits
You'd think I have on a strait jacket
Tearing at the very fabric
Of reality during a Black Sabbath
There's constant racket
And endless havoc
Eventually we all end up in the casket
That's just a given an automatic

Don't be a chicken
And always panic stricken
As of today, nothing safe from being off-limits
It could soon be forbidden
In this odd world we live in
I was able to fit in
Yet I didn't
I don't like religion
Or history because half of it could be fiction
I try to see it all with crystal clear vision
Easier said than done, the same can be said for wisdom
It's global, not just here to Great Britain
There's always competition
And shady politicians
As well as brain washing on the television
This is not no superstition 
Or just my intuition
It's going beyond that, regardless of if you listen
A lot of good in the world was overridden
There's more than meets the eye, therefore something's hidden
Meanwhile the plot continues to thicken

Like a diamond in the rough, I glisten
Always completing my mission
Yet no luck with women
To this day
It's sad to say, and the cause of much dismay
No I'm really not okay

Like anyone
I just wanted to be loved
When push came to shove
I turned to drugs
And always got a full mug
Now I'm always numb
And hum to the beat of my own drum
Not proud of what I've done
A lot of which has been dumb
I admit at times when I was young
I was a bum
And often glum
Now I have come from
A long way and then some
At time I can be one
Hell of a son of a gun
Continually I've dug
It was all for none
Ugh
I can't continue to shove under the rug
I need a lot more than a hug
Or a juug
Off another plug
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Implode

It was on a Sunday morning in the village where I stay
Out walking with my dog, I heard some pensioners say
Did you hear about the earthquake, it was somewhere in our State
No magnitude has ever been like it, it's impossible to relate

Quickly I headed home, to view this terrible news
Upon turning on the TV, I'm in horror at what my eyes now view
The awesome Golden Gate Bridge, against an azure bluey day
Lies broken, distorted and twisted, as if it's foundations had given way

The camera now focuses on the mainland, capturing plumes of choking black
Freeways lie twisted and contorted, trains running from their tracks
Gas lines spew throwers of flames, sirens resonate in blaring sound
What was level hours before, have dropped from it's original grounds

Many reporters are now on the scene, as they pan out across the blue
From the helicopter of CNN, Alcatraz disappears from their view
Slowly the island it sat on, as if by magic, now it has gone
Words are heard through the speakers, what the hells gone wrong

The daylight turns to black, a city lies in shreds
Memories of 1906, when three thousand plus were dead
All through the night, tremors came and went
Has history repeated itself, the San Andreas Serpent

I am awoken in the morning, having left the TV on
Panic stricken reporters screaming, most of San Francisco's gone
Where once stood a city, lie pillars of battered ruins
Deep gorges surround them, in bloodied scattered strewn

There's a break in the programme, it's from Yellowstone National Park
The land is starting to rise, incredible is the remark
Geysers that once flowed often, have receded in their shower
Are we about to witness, another of her powers

Back to the CNN studios, more footage of the morning
Towering inferno's in sickened tears, the clock, the warning
I fall to my knees in remembrance of the date
It's December the 21st, has earth met it's fate








http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-17.php
Form: Quatrain


3, 2, 1.., I'M Coming

Enter Alice, the bestest girl.
Enter Kobalos, The gruesome goblin, 
(You may just see him in the middle of the tree, (or not))

Alice:
Rachael! Rachael! 
What an ill forgotten wood this is
It nerves the jingle jangles from my soul
Where else to look, though stupid if I do
To gaze up to this tree and ask for help.

Kobalos:
Now there! The jingle jangle eh!? 
What panic stricken minx has woken wood?
The jagged edge of branches each a notch
So tantalisingly close above her head
Instead of calling Rachael, are yea dead?
And the torment of imagination lingers
When children at this time of day are scared
Look! my eager branches seem like fingers,
Equally as long as you've been there.

Alice: 
Hello! Is someone there, I hear a voice,

Kobalos:
Then maybe who shall Rachael be, hello!
Come climb, the view is excellent you'll see
Projecting what are acres more than mellow
My dear, Rachael, is up here with me!

Alice:
No! I shall not look for if I do!
The curse of Goblin Wood shall all come true
That they who talk to trees shall be as well,
A tree for ever more, and this they tell!

Kobalos:
Bunckernuk and dribdroch nichentoct,
Weirdy words of wood like magic spells,
Entice the girls and boys like any noise
As if the gaze itself was indeed there.

Alice:
You mean to say, it doesn't matter if
The tree I talk to doesn't hear a thing,
Yet if I were believing this were true
Then, why the wait, lets make a fairy ring!

Kobalos:
Humpdunk, toodletrash, mock of wisdom wise
Scandal monger, fairy rings, to seal a goblin's eyes.

Alice:
Trees are all around, and shaking mad
Oh! No!, The curse is fighting back, don't fall!
But what can Alice do, she has to call!
It happened, when I came here with my dad.

enter, The Narrator

Narrator:
Where hollowness should echo flaking bark
Abodes to goblins seven days a every week?
No! Just listen silently, there! hark!  
Rachael's in the tree for Hide and Seek!
Form: Verse

Dear Shari Todd Written July 29 2015 Hello 1u

Dear Shari Todd – written July 29, 2015

While rifling thru outdated writing, 
     which virtual thumbing
     wrought non deadly chancre “FAKE” blister
(long thee envy o' this wordy mister
a reference to mine youngest sister
prior tuff fall lout dynamic
emotional frenzied analogous 
     rapacious seditious tempestuous twister)

Tis hospitality of yar behalf
     to league gal lee 
     tender our lovely daughter 
     begat in part by meself, 
     whose punctured psyche doth chaff
at mine severe prepubescent short comings, 
     which trajectory of teen years, 
     a downward line on spiro (Agnew) graph

which deprivations well nigh 
     finds a civil war raging 
     against one half of ma being 
     (Oh Henry), a Harris son, 
     who these days genuinely 
     tries his Level best
     at lighter side of life to laugh
comedy of errors, boot
 
     haunting visions visit Twelfth Night
     figuratively brow beat 
     like an unseen dis staff.
glad that Shana (thee darling daughter 
     afflicted with cognitive development 
     entailing homebased intervention) wince
she blossomed into 
     a beautiful young lady, 

     now under Dunning aegis (bonanza) since 
emotionally stable, and quiet 
     on western (Bend, 
     Oregon) front, rinse
     sing with yar incredible credit karma, 
     her existence Quince
sud dental (juiced teething), 
     living with papa, 

     would mount to a travesty, 
sham, mockery...if superficial
     only perp pull reigning “FAKE” Prince
likely to barrel within 
     outward bound mince
meted MainLiners along here 
     built “mini mansion” homes 
     NOT bedecked with chintz 

at 724 west railroad avenue
     (previous address of this bummer)
     anyway, should ill fate befall 
     like an overstuffed blintz
if this king Lear Rick Hill
     wannabe meets fatal doom,
thy "mother abby" would 
     get panic stricken (rue...

Premium Member Within Hours

Looking back at our dying earth through windows of hope and despair
It's hard to imagine our planet within hours will be barren and bare

All we take are our memories from a place so rich in compare
To outer yonder we travel, all on-board for a future to share

We are the chosen few, to lead mankind to a distant world
Recalling the days when we dreamt, in comics being told it's absurd

We witness the seas being angry, like they have never been witnessed before
Eruptions abound in plenty, seeing the tearing of earth's crust, now sore

Picturing cities where we resided, all we see are crimsoned orange reds
So free as we venture to anew, containing images of our now forgotten dead

Our once beautiful sphere, now decrepit in battle scarred sit
In the distance it shall always remain, knowing that we were part of it

As I look around this ship, ironically Discovery is it's name
Hoping history will again repeat itself, allowing us humans an honourable claim


~*~


Days seem like months even years yet it can only be hours since we left
I for one can't comprehend as to the devastation leaving a planet so reft

The distance that we can travel in space, remains unbelievable in ones thoughts
It's what lies out there now that worries, can humanity be brought back from nought

An announcement over the speakers now heard, co-ordinates that were set have been reached
No religion will ever again divide man, or it's hatred to ever again be preached

We are now witnessing our new world, captured by the Hubble's wondrous lens
The scientists told us of valleys, and magnificent Scottish like glens

Blue azure skies resonate, amidst cotton wool clouds in sporadic drift
Suddenly a shaking, a severe vibrating as we head into a left angled shift

Unknown grounds grow ever nearer, panic stricken confused scared and crying
To this alien land we die like our planet, evolution can now stop trying









http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-19.php
Form: Couplet

Sincerely so

I've known my love for what now seems to be a long time 
And yet I'd forced myself not to acknowledge it 
Not to let my heart intrude upon the determination of my mind
I'm dying for your love
I wish to dig your heart out and drink your blood
Now there words seem to beat against me as if someone else was saying them
Repeating them over and over again until they drummed in my ears ,growing louder and louder
Until my whole body vibrated to the rhythm of it 
Oh darling I'm dying for your love 

Though I'd never told you 
You must have been aware 
That my heart turned over whenever our eyes met
Whenever our eyes me 
I yearned for you the very moment i saw you 
I remember how beautiful you'd appeared as you walked towards me
We kissed as you made your way down to the garden of eden
Atleast I'll have that to remember 
I admit now that since then I'd not gone to sleep 
Trying to recapture the feels of your lips on mine
The strength of your arms when you held me against you
That kiss has spoilt me 
Because never again would it be possible for another being to touch me 
Even on the hand without feeling revolted by it 

Now one , two ,three,twelve hours before midnight 
When he kissed my hand
I felt a cold shiver run through my veins
As almost as if his lips had been those of a reptile
But then insidiously, frighteningly so 
The fact was born in upon me that he was man enough to want more from me than a kiss
There had been a look in his eyes as he spoke which was impossible to misinterpret 
Had he approached me closely I'd want to run panic stricken to safety 
And what did safety mean ever since i entered the live era except you ?
I love you ..i love you 
And as always i go back to the same drumming and throbing sound within my heart 
The same yearning which prevaded my whole body 
Like an aching wound until i knew 
It was impossible to face life without you

Premium Member What Happens In Vegas

Just another Sunday on the Sunset Strip
Where a country concert had taken a grip
People had flocked from all around
To listen to their favourite sound
Josh and his buddies were up on stage
Their twangling guitars did the audience engage
Many in the crowd were singing along
With every plaintive and pert song
No happier scene in any mind's eye
Would,later recalled,fetch a contented sigh
This was the show they had saved to attend
This was sadly where for many it would all end.

High overhead in his hotel room
A tortured mind had prepared  their doom
His road trip to Mandalay
Was filled with intent to slay
A plan that had long festered in his brain
To contemplate inflicting untold pain
All around him lay guns and ammo
Ready to put an end  to this happy show
He coldly and cruelly bided his time
Before choosing the moment  to commit his crime
Once he had them in his sights
Then began their panic stricken flight.

His staccato typewriter spelled out fear,pain and death
In vain many scattered,stood stock still and held their breath
Down they went,falling under his relentless fire
Stunned,shaken and shot in their country attire
Glee must have been dancing in his twisted head
At seeing so many of his targets lying dead.

What was it  that flipped this quiet man's  switch within
To trigger the  damnable  flaw of original sin?
Did Stephen Paddock yearn to go out in a blaze of glory?
Was it that which fuelled this so tragic story?
Before  he turned his weapon against his own life,
Did he then  regret causing such avoidable strife?

Sibylline in their veracity
Were the words of the prophecy
That the crowd would perish that very night
Before the speaker was hustled out of sight
If a shiver went through those who heard
They dismissed her as being just weird
Predictably ignoring her rambling warning 
The report echoing in the headlines next morning
Form: Rhyme

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