Long Panicked Poems
Long Panicked Poems. Below are the most popular long Panicked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Panicked poems by poem length and keyword.
'Twas the night before Christmas in a wintry mist
When from Santa's pocket there fell a list
A list of those kids who were naughty or nice
So Santa's delivery would be precise
The story hit the news as kids slept in their beds
Parents all panicked and scratched their heads
The naughty kids laughed at St. Nick's mishap
And their parents decided to have a nightcap
As Santa circled the homes embarrassed by his goof
He spotted his list right there on a roof!
He quickly retrieved it and was gone in a flash
As the parents sat drinking, some of them smashed
The news of its finding came over the radio
And the naughty kids cried, how their tears did flow
The nice kids were awakened by the sound of a clatter
They rushed to their windows to see what was the matter
And there in his red suit with cheeks all aglow
Santa Claus stood on the lawn in the snow
The parents had now run out of beer
They were too drunk to see the reindeer
Santa Claus delivered to the nice girls and boys
The Grinch must have stolen the naughty ones toys!
The kids watched from their window as the reindeer took flight
And they heard Santa shout with such delight;
" Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night"...
''X'' Contest, New or Old Poetry -
Sponsor: Constance La France
11-27-17
Ordinary days keep going by
although not many of them are fraught with the dangers
that folks often associate with his occupation.
Not to say he has not had his share of those!
One time he was even recognized as a local hero
after he emerged – soot smeared – from a blazing building,
a little girl clinging to his chest,
her eyes wide with fright.
Today is another ordinary day. . .
yet perhaps not so ordinary a day.
He emerges from behind the heavy branches
of an old oak blazing with autumn’s orange and red.
His big black boots tread carefully rung after rung
as he descends with
a terrifed kitten, still panicked, in his arms.
A warm glow fills his soul
to see - beaming up at him -
the smile at the foot
of the ladder.
May 9, 2019
for The Smile At The Foot Of A Ladder Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
While trick or treating in my black cat disguise
I had an eerie feeling that I was being followed
by a scary Jack-O-Lantern with glowing red eyes
His pumpkin head had been cleverly hollowed
He was ten steps behind me on every street
My heartbeat accelerated. I panicked in fright
Boldly, he ensued without trying to be discreet!
I had to escape this stalker on Halloween night
I hid among dense bushes of old run down house
hoping he'd continue walking and leave me alone
I held my breath, trying to be as quiet as a mouse
when a whirring noise erupted from my cell phone
A hand covered my mouth til I thought I'd smother.
Then he said, "It's just me...Jack. Your big brother!"
October 12, 2020
Halloween Fright ~ Sponsor: Carolyn Devonshire
A man from the Canadian Mounties
Joined the Strathclyde police,
Seconded to tame the gangs
Of the inner Glasgow streets.
But on one sunny day
In Southern Lanarkshire,
A horse escaped from its stable
To bring some local fear.
So they called our Canadian pal
To see how he rides a horse,
And if he could tame the stallion
In the style of the Canadian force.
As he approached the GG
It let the man sit on its back,
Who bragged to his uniformed pals
"See I ain't no Mountie hack".
But slowly creeping behind
Sergeant Jock gave the horse a wack,
The horse responded in kind
And bolted with its rider bear back.
To the shock of our Mountie friend
Being scared he'll hit the deck,
Grabbed the horse real tight
With sleeper hold around its neck.
But the horse just panicked more
And ran as fast as it could,
With the pride of the mounted police
'Round it's neck straight into the wood.
So the rest of the police on duty
followed the horse and its jockey,
Laughing and running so hard
Thinking of jokes that could mock him.
They eventually found the horse
Without our Mountie friend,
For the horse threw off Canadian pride
When their run had come to and end.
Now if you ask our Mountie friend
"Do you ride horses anymore",
He'll smile and wink as he tells you
"I've never ridden a horse before".
Note : this is a true story. A Strathclyde (Glasgow) policeman told me so it must be true
...The months that followed were not kind,
a recall soon took his post from him,
and the angry eyes of the grieving kin
weighed so heavily upon his mind.
And word had gone out ’cross the land,
that Cyril Flint, he lacked real grit,
and people had died because of it,
nobody would hire such a man.
The next year would not go by fast,
Cyril spent most of his days dunk,
got by doing odd jobs, fit for skunks,
forever haunted by the echoing past.
In his despair he found himself asking
why he’d thought himself fit for the star
when couldn’t boast of a single scar,
was bravery such a hard-earned thing?
It seemed so clear to him in retrospect,
his ego hand hungered for the prestige,
he’d never been much for humility…
so much hubris on which to reflect.
As he puzzled on this one half-drunk morn,
a team of horses on a wagon stout,
jolted and reeled at the sight of a mouse,
and away with the wagon they tore.
They sprinted straight for widow Allandale,
Cyril threw himself hard into her side,
struck by the force, the widow did fly,
in wild circles did her arms flail.
She struggled to stay on her feet,
quit angry until a sickening crack,
Caught her attention, turning her back,
from her lips leapt a panicked shriek.
On the group lay Cyril’s bent shape,
trampled by hooves and iron rims,
half the bones in his body broken,
bloody from his shins to his pate.
Folks rushed up quickly to surround,
made no move to help, it was clear
there was nothing a doctor could do here,
his last moments in agony profound.
As he wavered in that morning’s light,
the very last words that he ever heard
was,”At least he didn’t die a coward,”
then on came that cold, endless night.
C-O-R-O-N-A V-I-R-U-S L-O-C-K D-O-W-N (Acrostic)
C- Coming as human killer on this earth civic -C
O- Opening wings of poison secretly infect too -O
R- Rule cruelly overall the human body server -R
O- Out-breaking cough, sneeze, bad fever also -O
N- None knows it before from the planet of human -N
A- Available it is in world as harmful virus Corona -A
V- Vehemently infects the tiny living things as sav -V
I- Inheriting the cell of body power it kills every 'I' -I
R- Rears it inside body small to big disease as far -R
U- Until spoil it spreads death pangs between me and you -U
S- Self-awareness can save from such these germs -S
L- Live safe in home quarantine coz pandemic is cruel -L
O- Old or child nobody is safe from this unknown disease, so -O
C- Cooperate with govt. laws abiding the true religion ethic -C
K- Keeping neat and clear the self body from the toxic track -K
D- Do practice best to save the panicked heart from sad -D
O- Out of home now injurious to health though it feels zoo -O
W- Wealth is not health, knowing self is wealth, this if we knew -W
N- Nature would help us to save the world from these ruin -N
04.04.2020 Chattogram
He'd come west back in forty-nine,
three long years had passed since that time,
and still he mucked 'bout rivers cold,
with pan and shovel, seeking gold.
Fa away from Sutter's Mill,
he'd staked a claim below this hill,
a bit far from the beaten track,
the others said that brains he lacked.
But he continued at his task,
the well-known streams had gone bust fast,
so he'd chosen to go afar,
out here with cougars, grizzlly bars.
They saw honest work hurts no man,
so he shovelled dirt in the pan,
and when he found no golden gleam
methodically he moved up stream.
The sun was up, it was near noon,
the heat of it could cause a swoon,
he though it time to stop for lunch,
but kept going, he had a hunch.
So he shoveled in some more dirt,
with stream water began to work,
mud washed away, and he did find
six flakes that brightly yellow shined.
Like that all thought of food was gone,
the prospector dug on and on,
he did not tire, he did not flag,
thirty flakes soon in his poke bag.
When the sun started getting low
he took his shovel, gear to stow,
planning to head back to his camp,
when from the woods out stepped a tramp.
His clothes were rough, his face unshaven,
he features vicious, young of ago,
a hardened man, raw-boned and tall,
held a revolver, cap-and-ball.
“All that gold that you found today...
take that poke bag, toss it this way--”
Then silenced by a mighty blow,
the shovel had been swiftly thrown!
The 49er, frantically,
has struck and knocked out half his teeth!
The tramp fell right there to the ground,
as prospector's boot heel rained down.
First came a sickening cry,
then muffled screams as the tramp died,
the 49er soon collapsed,
his panicked breath still coming fast.
He took the time to wipe back tears,
his reason burning through the fear,
he had been well within his rights,
but still...he'd killed a man this night.
He rolled the corpse into the flow,
the current took it far below.
Tossed all that night, he couldn't sleep,
thinking on life, twas so damn cheap.
That one would kill you for a rock...
but in the end, when he took stock,
when did life not bring with it pain?
He would stay and defend his claim.
The wealthy Sterling family
was completely devastated
when their beloved butler,
Arthur, suddenly vanished.
Arthur had served them with
flawless devotion, warmth,
and unmatched grace for
over three decades.
Lord Reginald and Lady
Eleanor immediately
gathered the entire
household staff in the grand
library.
Detective Richard Vance was
called to the mansion to
investigate the mysterious,
sudden disappearance.
Vance began by searching
Arthur's meticulous quarters,
looking for any hidden clues
or notes.
inside a leather- bound
ledger, Vance found a
frantic, handwritten note
detailing a dark secret.
Arthur discovered that Clara
the maid and Thomas the
gardener were secretly
stealing luxury silverware.
The brilliant butler noticed
the sterling silver forks and
golden platters vanishing
week by week.
When Arthur confronted the
thieving duo in the
greenhouse, they panicked
and took him hostage.
Clara and Thomas bound and
gagged the loyal butler,
locking him deep inside the
dark root cellar.
Vance noticed Clara's hands
trembling violently as she
served tea during the tense
interrogation.
The detective also spotted
fresh, deep mud tracking
from the greenhouse directly
into the main house.
Thomas claimed he was busy
trimming the hedges all
morning, but his boots were
completely dry.
Vance swiftly led the worried
Sterling family down into the
damp, shadowy depths of
the cellar.
With a heavy iron key found
in Clara's apron pocket,
Vance unlocked the rusted
cellar door.
There lay Arthur, bound to a
wooden chair but thankfully
completely unharmed and
safe.
Beside him sat three massive
canvas sacks overflowing
with the family's missing
luxury silverware.
Clara and Thomas fell to their
knees, weeping and
confessing to the entire
greedy scheme.
Lord Reginald immediately
called the authorities, while
Lady Eleanor wept tears of
pure relief.
The beloved butler was safely saved, and the family
threw a grand feast in his honor.
I heard the footstep down the hall
I knew what was they and panicked
my mind wondered from end to end
my thoughts were like words instead of
the mental vision, I was more accustom to.
they started and then stopped
for over, or more than five minutes the complete
silence made me want to move about, but I didn't
I knew this monster was out there, but did he knew I was in here
I didn't want him to hear me, I sat there for an hour in the quiet
and then I heard the footsteps
everyone coming closer and closer
in the closet I sat
until the hinge of the door squeaked open
taken from the night of episode ten, by the playrights of Meanus, " the ghost of Ginu Ganmonns, The story of a drunkard and the Exploits of his lover..... Written in 1885, Authored by Beltripe Fromoss, New York,New York.
On the wall he placed his helmet
as always ,when about to start
his bike ,for his office.
One evening,he lost it.
Panicked,searched everywhere,asked
everyone he knew,but no one
knows what happened .
Later,he realised he lost his helmet.
Blamed few and person who took it
but ...........................
not his carelessness.
He managed without it,
but ...........................
he needed it as it was his safety.
He did get one,not new
but borrowed from his friend.
As usual he goes to office,
wearing his new worn-helmet.
Before starting the bike,he places
the helmet at the same spot
where he lost his father’s helmet
and drives away ..................
WRITTEN ON:11/11/2025
PS:This is a metaphoric piece on people's mind,perception and defense.Please do share your thoughts on what you felt when reding this poem.Thanking you in advance.