Long Peephole Poems

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


Apartment 62 Nosy Neighbour Observations: Part 4: Granny Gossip

My first introduction when I moved in across the hall
Was a lovely older lady, who stood under five feet tall

She came up to my door to say welcome and hello
And to tell me of the neighbours, some above and some below.

She invited me over for a drink, I assumed a coffee or a tea
Vodka, gin or rum she says, of each, i've got plenty

I said rum was good with me, but just a little splash
I watched her a mix a couple drinks, both were half and half.

We talked late into the evening, as she told all of what she knew
Of everyone who had lived there, from now since '92

Sometimes I used to wander over as we lived on the same floor
She pulled a stool to the peephole, before she'd open up the door

I've moved farther away now and I didn't keep in touch
But I do miss our little chats while having just a bit too much

It's been awhile since we've caught up, maybe I should phone
It would be a little different now, since I'm too far to stumble home
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Ding Dong the Bells Are Gonna Chime

[Loosely to the beat of the U.S. Navy
Seals Cadence ‘I Don’t Know But
I’ve Been Told’]



Cop who tapped on my window
Can’t park there bud, off you go
Said my dress sense wasn’t good
I explained as best I could 

I don’t know where I came from
Why I’ve got no trousers on
Don’t know if I’ve been here long
Why I’m wearing this pink thong

I’m all tied up in this car
Strapped into this peephole bra
Need to get home really quick
And wipe off this red lipstick

Can you please untie this rope
This is not my stethoscope
Sir, I must be on my way
For I’m getting wed today

Copper said you might have guessed
You are now under arrest 
Thought I’d end up in the can
But that cop was my best man
Form: Rhyme

The Leaves of Autumn

I sit beneath my window gawking   
To the sight of leaves twisting and falling
Dumped, crisp, and on the grass
Gathering together and accumulating a·mass
 
I hear the sound of the autumn breeze
Sudden countless number of leaves
In my yard, I long to know
The brown, the green, orange, red afterglow
 
Intermingling with beautiful ray of sunshine 
Peeking through the peephole of its treeline 
As a cracking wind cuts through the silence 
While multiple leaves drift in speedy compliance
 
Through the day, a gentle glow
Amidst' a wind flow
The leaves outside my window   
One by one, they let go   
 
Their branches in the wind overlap
I can’t see, but I hear the stems snap
Over and over the meadow lawn
They drop with a silent slap and be·gone
 
Soggy and wet, disappearing before me 
Naked branches in a cold wind I see
Falling to the earth, one by one
The amazing swirl of the last leaf hung.
Form: Quatrain

Page Five

So Im back at it, letting ppl get under
my skin the flesh is takin over so Im back to repenting for 
sins! Smh many men lost this race but me Im goin in so!
I separate myself from the evil, in this
haystack called the world I gotta stay
on point like the needle. The attempts
on my life from the devil is so feeble 
so I go hard in the paint but the Lord's
voice I gotta continue to heed to
they tell me forget who dont feel you
dont let the enemy overcome rob steal
& kill you, so I stand firm on the 
scriptures, its like cardiac arrest when
the word of God hits ya
even the calmest of ppl show emotion
the drama that Im facing is unfolding
so it gets harder to cope with so!
I treat it like an umbillical cord, poke the rifle out the 
peephole when satan
is knocking @ the front door!!! JUDAH!
© Corey Ross  Create an image from this poem.
Form: ABC

What Piece of Peace Shall I Come In

what piece of Peace shall i come in
when you look through the peephole,
does a pitchfork illuminate your adjectives of me
to make ammends, i attempt to prepare reconstruction soup
dismal is your evenly distorted reaction,
and it spreads like a plague colorfully seducing

what piece of Peace shall i come in
when you tiptoe through your
personal daydream curiosity excursion,
do the thorns medicate the adjourning of your wrongful judgement
to reignite the luminosity of the art, i try to mediate the enlargement 
of the minimal medium....hoping to plant New Seeds of Effervescent
Memorial Happenings....

what piece of Peace shall i come in
when you frolic in your newly zigzagging
temperamental era, will the soft surroundings
in the wayward wind unite to provide the now unbeknownst
warmth of reality formerly monikered "WHAT ONCE WAS"
for the mere purpose of simply existing, once again i give the foundations'
lost a quarter of a whole to again begin hourly repolished works.....
to once again wish away on.....
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.


Dead Spiders Weave

“It’s a terrible love 
And I’m walking with spiders…
It’s a terrible love and I’m walking in
Its quiet company…”-Birdy

Three long claws enclosed around a lone beating heart
Stone talons gripping in happy malice, silently angry by its pulse it cannot feel…

The longer I stare into the hollow sockets seeing only ugliness,
The easier it becomes to break into pieces over the mere thought of you
I thought it was a dull beat- a throbbing, fading beat disappearing into the night…
Though your image, once so grainy, is becoming clearer and clearer in the fogs of my consciousness
I thought it was just a dull, callous beat…
But the more it throbs against the stone, the more the stone cracks
The more the demon cries in anguish…the more I fall

So deeply in love have I become,
I can barely breathe in this misty embrace
The suspense of your blows make my innards whimper…make my mind shiver
My tearful eyes cry for your assurance
My body changes through the peeks of your light

It is all a joke!
This is all pathetic, low, meaningless! 
Surely these claws over this heart do not exist
Holding onto nothing but dead spiders who once weaved miracles
Dust and spider legs….spider eyes…they had seen so much…felt so much with their prickly appendages
Through a lovely peephole beyond the three stoned fingers…
I see the entire world where they must have crawled
A world holding you…
If only I could hold you too…

Something tells me I would never let go if I had the chance
Something tells me I would crush you
I would turn you into dust and spider legs…
 
And yes, as all demons enjoy, I would lose you
In the grip of the three stoned fingers

Unless…
You were that heart I thought I had seen…
The heart that continued to beat long after it was ripped out
The clenched heart that throbbed despite its crushing cage
The very heart that bled and bled for no body and all for the sake of love
Beating and beating, cracking those frigid fingers
Into dust…
And all of the fallen limbless creatures would gather round…
And they would tell me… “He lives yet still…”
Weaving in their webs the very bloods and salts you pumped
Within me…and beyond me

Dead spiders weave and weave and weave…
And unlike human hearts, their ideas never tire

Premium Member Observations

Morning light shimmers
Floating dust welcome;
Excited salutation


World awakes
Noisy traffic;
Rush of work day


Knock on the door
Peephole lookout;
Real estate agent


Morning cuppa
Fortified supplements;
Health insurance


Bamboo trees
Walkway sentinels;
Windy voices hum


Old plumeria tree
Speaks in vivid colours;
Reds, yellows, whites bloom


Lift alarm screaming
Fire drill or short circuit;
Irritating noise


Balcony view
Ant-people far below;
Busy antics ply


Temple oracle
Praying on a wish;
Curious bystanders


Church petitions
Man keeps busy asking;
Attendance compulsory


Despite our faiths
Man remains unchanged;
Unsure and insecure


Voice of dawn
Hurling new songs;
Rapture unnoticed


Bold ideas fashion
New collections;
Recycle old orbits


Day after day
Same old, same old;
What's new pussycat


Hymn and prayer
Endless petitions;
Too much noise


Go deeply now
Linger right here;
Discern afresh


When, where and how
Who, why and what;
Unanswered questions


Weary and tired
Dreary world swirls;
Awaiting salvation


Look beyond reason
To fit new rhymes;
Seasonal permutations


Looking out
Peeping in;
Who cares


Lost in the crowd
I search for something;
I don't know why


Rules are rules
Useful as tools;
Transcend and discard


Once in a while
A sincere smile;
Cynics fling piles


Go beyond terms
Let feelings style;
Spontaneous voice


Seek then the light
Beyond meaning;
Seize true rapture


When the soul awakes
Magic and mystic
Charm with bold say


Words once empty
Pregnant with rapture;
Creation sings


In a clear vessel
The empty space:
Is most valuable


Go beyond form
Beyond norm;
Flirt with impulse


Words are devices
Language crude formats;
Soul sublimates


Sense a sure gap
Between said and done;
Herein possibilities field



Leon Enriquez
16 August 2014
Singapore

Premium Member Adios, Felicia

When they couldn't sedate me
And needed to cut strips of flesh
From my eyelid, I heard the sizzle
Smelled the scalpel burning as it sliced
And glimpsed the steam rising
Through a peephole under the
Sterile towel tent covering my face

Flesh harvested from my eyelid 
grafted into the cavern under my eye
Pit left from digging the cancer filled
One hundred and twenty three tiny stitches later 
an ice bag tapped to my head with a warning
it would hurt like hell when the Lidocaine died

I lied-I was going back to my hotel
And on that dark highway in the pouring rain
I could see well enough with one eye 
Until sixty miles west on I-80
Burning hot all consuming hell, stabbing, sharp, wish I were dead
Pulled over into aq Wendover casino
To kill the pain
When I'm drinking and gambling, life doesn't hurt.
Faded away until it really wasn't there 
Enough to sober up, get back in my truck 
Poorer than I was--but money
Never made me happy.

You did

My emergency contact. 
My ride home 

Pathetic that this is your poem

You are not a bad person.
You gave yourself away.
You took yourself back.
And that's alright
I take me back, too

And like that, there's no emergency contact
No one to drive me home
And I wish you had a better poem
Than this... 
I'm-hurt-you-should-feel-sorry-for-me
and my wounded heart
Attempt to what? 
Get you back? Hell-no

Don't know what you were, or why 
But you had to be removed
Just like the cancer in my eye--you had  to go
It's not pretty and leaves a big hole
That some other part of me must fill
It's uncomfortable 
And it hurts
Yeah...
and there's nobody to drive me home

But I've been through worse
I'm happy to turn the page

If there's something better for you
There's something better for me
Something better than this 
Pain management poem.

That you will never read, but somehow
Makes me feel better

Adios, Felicia

Premium Member October Day in Kansas

my legs welcome the warmth of the Kansas sun
bird with a screech makes weird noises
sweat bee hovers close to my left ear
I swat at it with my notebook

clouds are moving tremendously slowly
an asymmetrical opening shows light blue sky
this peephole is surrounded by brilliant white
have clouds always been this pristinely graceful?

dog brings up empty water bottle to porch
he loves the crackling sound against his teeth
another dog in the distance takes his attention for a second
clouds move a bit faster, I watch, amazed

a wood chopper, car engine and loose shutter sound in the distance
barely perceptible noises, yet I hear them clearly; I have dog ears
small tweeting noise brings my attention to my elm tree
the bee is back, teasing interested dog who tries to catch him

October day, red and orange leaves, lovely heavenly clouds
waving limb with three tiny leaves, scratches against porch
clouds have formed another portal to heaven
I would be more interested if I was not already there.

Nightmare

Darkness surrounds me, completely shrouded, 
Thinking and movements totally clouded
Try to run but my legs go weak
I hear movement, the stairs creak
Hidden behind a cupboard, crouched on the floor
I reflect how it started, with an eerie knock on the door
Eyes to the peephole it wasn’t a man I observed
I saw an angel of death, can’t be real, that’s absurd
Stunned by the vision, I could not believe my eyes
Until he opens his mouth and expelled millions of flies
Scrambling to the kitchen, I seized a large knife
Weapon sorted, I was prepared to fight
As I turn back, he emerges though the wall
Clothed in black, skeletal figure and awfully tall
Smell of decay, putrid stench of death he exudes
He glides over, I slash at the darkness he imbues
Knife slides through, he smiles with evil glee
I whirl around, stumbling up the stairs, I flee.
That is how I ended up trapped, with him creeping closer
Useless knife held close, not making me any bolder
His shadow now looms, and coldness chills my bones
He whispers my name, in deep raspy tones
I push against the wall as if it will absorb me
Backed in a corner, some sense I finally see
I will stand to meet my fate, what will be will be
Surprise on his face a testament to my audacity
I take a deep breath knowing it is my last
He suddenly smirks, comes at me so fast
Then I am in darkness, fast deep breathing I hear
It was only a nightmare thank god death is not yet near...
© Amar Qamar  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Imagism

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace