Long Pit Poems
Long Pit Poems. Below are the most popular long Pit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pit poems by poem length and keyword.
In the pit of the darkness it's midnight
Cross horizon lots of new day
Fluorescent wrong casualties of war
Spun out tires the interstate grows
Infatuated with the debacry
Fathom crew it's all that's lost to me it's new
In the pit of the darkness it's midnight
~
On the clouds of righteousness none of this fits
Caught up in the mirage of prayers
While even in the darkness they pedal their wares
While being strung out on life, embracing your strife
Providence is gunning for you infatuated with the democracy
Fathom cruise it's all that's lost to me and it's new
In the pit of the darkness it's midnight
~
Shall I get up to heaven in this fleshy tattered frame
While it's not about getting their it is more about staying there
For our God has unequivocally has said that there's nothing new under the Sun
For one day when the Son sets down on this terrain ground
Bringing with Him His warring angels to battle the sin ful strangers
~
From the clouds of His righteousness He commits
His merciful salvation yours you should accept
While being strung out on life embracing this strife
Providence is gunning for you infatuated with the bureaucracy
Phantom dues it's all you have left and to me it's old it's new
In the pit of the darkness it's midnight
Callus prospective hues what's true what to do
Turn on the lights, Why? Cause...in the midst of in the pit of the darkness
1/1/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
I stand on the rocky shores of my island,
Waves crash towards my feet, foaming between my toes on the empty beach.
No Kings. No Masters. No Gods. Only I.
The shores were as barren as the land itself.
The shore froths from its mouth, suffocating in disgust at what it has become.
And I sneer with sadistic glee as it gasps its final breaths.
I see unidentified vessels approaching the wasteland I am bound to.
I balance between the pointy pebbles that pierce my sole.
I can vaguely see the shifting shapes sliding straight through the sea.
It is a fleet of individual sailors, looking to find claim on my barren bay.
My blood races, like an Olympian sprinter charging towards the flaming torches.
Yet, I haven't moved.
An electric surge courses through my body with the power of a metropolis.
Yet I haven't moved.
Senses heightened tenfold;
I can smell the salt oozing out of the sea,
I feel the air whistling in my ears from the east with a tickle,
the thirst tormenting the tip of my tongue,
the shriek of seagulls shattering my eardrums, and the detail of each and every ship, from port to starboard, is clear to me.
Yet, I haven't moved.
From this desired pit of despair.
look me in my eyes but dont show signs of fear
call me with a whistle thats how i know your here
walk me with conviction and hold your head up high
because for you and only you, you know that i will die
if you feed me when im hungry and rub my head and chest
i will protect you to the end with my last dieing breath
people call me vicious and say that im no good
but a heart of a true pit bull is something they never understood
i use to fight for you and you knew i never quit
i never understood why you threw me in that pit
its time for you to take a stand and speak in my stead
because a pit without its owner might as well be dead
loyalty to our owner was our only goal in mind
our stories told through history in books and over time
the "pit" is our domain where we matched in dirt and mudd
and whence the chain came of our necks our breed was forged in blood
when we crossed that line a cur you will not see
because a dog that turns its tail is dog that will not be
this was our way of life this was also our creed
without the game in us you have lost the entire breed
Australia I shake my head..Are there no better choices.??
Has all reason fled?? To elect a truly ghastly crew.' Elbow??And his ci-horts.' Oh what a bilious slew.' They projectile
Vomit.. Such gilobbdy-gook' glib enough only for entitled sooks'
Can't you see? Haven't you heard? In order to get a good life (you need to loose) these nerds.' Safe and effective
As i've heard it said..' btw hows the median death rate.??
Well it needs to be said.' What great talents have been taken from our sunkissed land.?? Ya know upon reflection
It could all be planned?? I think on government helping
Over the last five years..' I leave all to think.? I leave all to
Ponder how albo's held onto power? The big gutless wonder! I'm just waiting...Yet hoping our country wont go
Under.!
I'm teetering along the edge
Of a long and deep sharp ledge
One more push and I will drop
Can someone please help me stop
The pain everyday that follows
Me into more bad tomorrows
That will not leave me alone
I would like to just be shown
What it's like to wear a smile
It has been too long a while
Since my days were filled with joy
Thinking fates out to destroy
Every ounce of happiness
Until there is nothing left
To live for and dream about
I just want to scream and shout
Take away all the dark clouds
Giving me the love allowed
That I see looking so grand
I want to hold someones hand
Feeling the soft warm rush
That makes my whole body gush
With sensations never felt
Because life has always dealt
A hand so unbearable
Days were too unlivable
For enjoying anything
My heart never got to sing
Any happy and fun tunes
Darkness and a lot of gloom
Is all I will ever feel
This world will never reveal
Any goodness night or day
I will just crawl up and stay
Tightly wrapped up in a ball
Until it's my time to fall
Into a nice peaceful slumber
My lonely life finally over
In Florida oak leaves fall in March and as I was cleaning up our backyard
I paused a moment to sit…
to take a break and relax around our old and empty fire pit.
As I sat catching my breath…suddenly in my mind memories started to soar
and that fire pit, empty only a moment ago….was not empty any more.
I saw our children and grandchildren toasting marshmallows…eating s’mores
I saw them chasing fireflies, and listened to all the things in life they were wishing for.
I saw myself as a boy around a campfire toasting marshmallows…eating s’mores.
As I watched myself chasing fireflies I wondered…
what kind of things back then…I might have been wishing for.
But that was long ago…and over time my memories blur.
When I think back to those childhood wishes…I can’t remember what they were.
Watching a much younger me at a campfire with my family sitting around
I imagine, being young, my wishes were more superficial…less profound.
Or maybe, just maybe…if I could hear me…I would hear myself profess
how I wanted to be a kind and gentle person…how I wished for happiness.
Perhaps I wished for a family who loves me..
to say or do a few things that may never be forgotten…
for friends who make me smile…and for grandchildren to spoil rotten.
If I could travel back in time…if only for a moment or two
I’d go back and tell that younger me,
“Don’t worry, little me, someday…your wishes will come true.”
As I returned to my backyard duties…
as the latest flow of memories come to an end…
I had to smile…
knowing how a fire pit…
once it’s known love…
will never be totally empty again.
Behind the smiles, are shattered mirrors
All broken as they could not bear the weight
Of the pain that the skies hold over me!
Behind the sparkling eyes, are wilted flowers
All still in their full youth bloom
All seeking to be assuaged by some water
But having not any desire to let go of their pots
And move to where river waters cajole each other!
Behind the unfeeling and uncaring face, are drops of venom
All seeping into my bones
Making me wish I could fall on my knees
And simply just let go of the force that inhabits me
The force that pushes me to be,
To act, to live, even if out of compulsion
The force over which I have not the slightest power!
Behind the mask of jolliness
Lies a broken doll, one compulsively digging up tunnels
Merely to try to find its purpose in this plane
So as to accept itself
So that the rest of Existence does accept it in return!
For Contest Depression
Sponsored by Lewis Raynes
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in pits of despair ~
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Tell me, dog with the big teeth,
What do you see past that muzzle of yours?
What do you hear through the whispers of those that go by?
You crave to feel human touch—
Even the brush of fingertips against your ruined body
When someone walks past.
You long to be held like all the little dogs are:
Given fuss on the street and told such compliments—
‘Oh, what a handsome boy you have there!’
Tell me, dog who was bred to kill,
Are you a killer now?
Through the actions of those who cross the road to avoid you,
You must still be. So angry and violent:
Your eyes shine red with the blood of your victims,
And your teeth are bared with malicious intentions.
But, by the actions of those who throw stones at you
Whilst you lie, chained up in the park,
You could never be a killer.
Your patience shines brighter than your treachery.
Tell me, dog who has never known love,
When your living, breathing body was endorsed in flames
By some monsters who intended to kill,
Were your big teeth and brute strength able to save you?
And as your dying body burnt like the wick of a candle
Were you glad your time was up?
By the time you were found, you were too late to save,
And the only sympathy that was to be offered
Was having your cold, charred body cradled
In the arms of someone who had never met you before.
In parts of Derbyshire and Yorkshire
there are still pit-valleys,
where industry and nature collide,
marry, and have their natural born children.
The earth once gouged, raped and laid desolate,
is landscaped by those who once despoiled.
Time plays its part, plants its seeds,
it up-roots high piled slagheaps,
softens broken mountains of concrete.
I have walked these valleys,
in some I had to stumble over the fractured bones
of abandoned and rusting machinery;
the fire scorched detritus of coal mines.
I have also strolled through resurrected Eden's,
vales recreated out of the unspeakable
into the bright eloquence of beauty.
The hands of men
and the wings of gardening angels
have covered-up all self-made wounds,
have put to bed the deeply trammeled.
The Lord of daisies and daffodils
strolls unmolested once more,
through the worst and the best
that good intentions can do.