Long Pored Poems
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Wrought liquid metal, hued in the fire's of hell,
Pored into a castings shell, then hammered well,
By the angry fists of Satan himself, behold the skeleton key.
Accursed by evil's malevolent spell, one size fits all,
No locked doors can resist against its turnings twist,
Opening unto the supernatural's mystical power, and unlocking
Humanity's hidden passages and darkest corridors,
Leaving no secrets left unspoken or in silence.
Crimson blood spewing forth from corrupted key holes, oozing
Downwards unto the floor below, staining ancient
Tapestries of the royal gentries, and the upper classes refined.
Skull to the cross bones, it possesses a will of its own,
A vile living entity, with its own consciousness.
Molding, reshaping itself at pleasures dark whim,
Feasting on hatred's malice, then releasing it unto the world
Of men.
A twisted wanton thing, laughing with intentions cruelties,
And relishing in our agonies pain.
But *****sapiens are a curious species, never realizing when to
Leave things well enough a lone.
We must know what lies beyond that forbidden
Door, where mankind is not allowed to trespass.
In these dark places of shadows ethereal, it rocks in a fetal
Ball, a creature, waiting to be disturbed, go then seek what lurks therein,
If you dare, only the key knows what it really is, and it laughs,
At our ignorance, mocking us in the darkness.
Four it is the beast, chained and shackled within our worst
Nightmares, a fierce devilish demon, that pierces through the
Darkest of night, to hunt the innocent souls of wayward men.
You've have ventured to far, beyond thy safety zone of no return.
Four death lies in those reddened eyes that watch you within
The darkness.
If you move it will attack, motions movements attracts
Attentions reactions, so remain frozen there is no safety's retreat
Thou'art trapped, again the key so laughs in the abyss,
Mocking at humanity's ignorance.
Shaking with anticipations glee, it begs the next
User to place it into the key hole, of the unknown, come along
Now what can it hurt, just one little peek, let’s look beyond the crimson
Door, as the skeleton key heckles with unbridled happiness.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
I drank the blood.
Shuffled up to the altar,
pearly white shoes scraping over
faded white tile dirtied by the footsteps
of countless sinners.
(I knew, even then, that that same grime already claimed my soul.)
I accepted the golden chalice with shaking
hands and brought it
ever so gently to my lips.
It tasted like poison, but I drank the blood.
I’d never feel so holy again as I did that day,
wholly pure in untouched white satin,
bursting with life and joy
and the light shining from the proud eyes of the parishioners.
But the light of their spirit would soon curdle in my veins
from the hatred of false goodness.
I pored over page after page,
dutiful scholar I was,
and found nothing but tongues lashing like the Romans
they should’ve disdained,
not mirrored.
Every biting indictment corroded the gleam of my soul
until the only light remaining
was the reflection of that glistening chalice.
I am not the one who bit the forbidden fruit,
and yet the sweetness of its juice mixes with
the blood on my dry, cracked lips,
crimson trailing down, down,
down my ashen face.
A stain of my humanity.
A stain of Your hands.
I drank the blood.
The transplant attacked my system,
draining the life from my eyes
until I was left pleading You to sop up
the few lasting drops with a pitying rag.
Merciful as You’re written,
I begged you,
knees bloodied and scarred,
to transform me.
Make me whole
or dismiss me to the depths.
Fix me,
or allow the scourge and fire to purify me
for ever and ever.
I called into the night for year after year
before I realized it was as vacant as I was revolting.
Was I right?
I may never know,
but I do know something inside of me broke those days,
shattering me from the inside out.
I try to escape, peeling back rotten layers,
but it courses through my veins
steady and permanent as my beating heart.
I cannot claw it out, no matter how I try,
for I drank the blood.
37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” NIV.
Two Great Commandments
We must praise God with our total being;
With newfound faith in Him are believing;
Yourself forget;
In neighbors let;
Help those in need who will be grieving.
Jim Horn
St. James Episcopal Church
Shallotte, NC
lord 127 End Rhymes
One-syllable rhymes
board
bored
chord
cord
cored
cured
fiord
fjord
floored
ford
gored
gourd
gourde
hoard
hord
horde
lord
moored
oared
pored
poured
roared
scored
shored
snored
soared
stored
sword
toured
ward
warred
whored
Two-syllable rhymes
abhorred
aboard
accord
adored
afford
award
backboard
baseboard
billboard
blackboard
breadboard
broadsword
buckboard
cardboard
chalkboard
chessboard
chipboard
clipboard
concord
contoured
corkboard
dashboard
deplored
discord
duckboard
explored
floorboard
footboard
freeboard
hardboard
headboard
highboard
ignored
implored
inboard
keyboard
landlord
lapboard
moldboard
outboard
outscored
pasteboard
pegboard
prescored
rancored
record
restored
reward
scoreboard
seaboard
shipboard
sideboard
signboard
skateboard
slumlord
soundboard
springboard
surfboard
switchboard
tagboard
toward
uncured
wallboard
warlord
washboard
whipcord
Three-syllable rhymes
aboveboard
centerboard
checkerboard
clavichord
coinsured
fiberboard
fingerboard
harpsichord
mortarboard
notochord
overboard
overlord
paperboard
pinafored
plasterboard
pompadoured
prerecord
reassured
shuffleboard
smorgasbord
stevedored
underscored
unexplored
unrestored
untoward
weatherboard
That day is very much vivid in my memory,
I was holding a baby who was weeping inconsolably,
and I did not know how to make him smile,
was sobbing myself!
My father saw me and said,
"I couldn't imagine my bookworm daughter would make such a beautiful mother",
And the doctor said,
"How is it that both Mom and the baby are crying together? "
That day I became a real mother,
who tried to do everything in her power
to raise one little human being,
That tiny human being became the centre of my universe!
One little being, who just came to the earth
to be a part of this cosmos, to find his place.
I and my Baby both grew up with one another,
We were blessed with the love, the laugh, the joy, the bliss
of being together!
His laugh was my laugh, his cry was my cry,
There was no gift comparable to the bond we had.
Spending too many sleepless nights, I didn't know I was capable of,
I was walking every step after him when he started toddling,
I was climbing every step up the stairs after the little baby, in case he stumbled and fell,
I was swinging him on the swing till he was tired, and I was exhausted,
How many songs did I sing till he fell asleep?
I was bursting into ecstasy with every word he babbled.
Pored over Tintin stories together, and giggled,
Daubed canvas with bright colours, and marvelled,
at our artistic creations,
Strolling on the streets licking Buskin-Robbins,
And gazing with fascinated eyes
at rainbow-coloured fishes and turtles floating in the aquairium!
One day I realized, my baby was not a baby any more,
It is time to let him fly.
With immense pride I watched him soar, and thought about my mother and my grandmother,
about all the mothers in the world,
who had done the same in every generation.
I sifted through white sands in coastal cities, longingly searching for an
answer; explored every cave, and even sailed all over the Atlantic.
Asked every soul that I encountered, but it was all in vain,
there was no single solution that would soothe my pain.
Shared stories of my travels with priests in churches, and in temples,
traded secrets of my findings, with my fellow weary-eyed wanderers.
I picked up every pebble, and peeled through blades of grass,
climbed ancient trees silently hoping my sadness would not last.
Tribes indigenous to Africa taught me how to be free,
through them I learned that life could be just as peaceful for me.
Ventured to the corners of the world to no avail,
escaping from the truth could not change the fact that we failed.
I meandered through the Sahara, without a caravan,
then risked everything as I narrowly evaded death in Iran.
There is nothing that compares to the deafening silence underwater,
but even there I was unable to swim away from my problems.
I closely examined the faces of everyone that I met,
looking for something that reminded me of you, so I would not forget.
I pored through the pages of ancient manuscripts and texts,
for divine guidance on the steps I should take next.
There was no cure in the Amazon, nor did I locate it in Peru,
the Andes mountains only intensified my longing for you.
I left no stone unturned on my quest,
yet I was still unable to dislodge our love from my chest.
Restlessness prevails without an end in sight,
you will remain lost, another casualty of life.
This vagabond heart of mine rages to let go,
alas, it seems there is no remedy for missing you.
3rd Person View--
An Audience Ponders On Thoughts Of Curtains.
Faded Red And Gold, Sweeping The Beat, Dusted Floor; Old, It [[The Floor]] Creaks.
Upon The Stage Artists Perform For Love.
From The Crowd, Coins Are Thrown For Help, For Enjoyment Brought.
Hands Creating A Thunder, To Roll Over Heads, And Hearts, Tidal Waves Pulling It To The
Stage.
Sound, Touches Ears, The Band Plays.
Quotes Of Ole' Roll Off Tongues.
Audience, Watch Listlessly, As The Stage Performs, Then Clears, Like A Disappearing Act
Into Air.
The Curtain Pulls Closed, As So Do Eyes, Softly Remembering Faint Memories, In The Actors
Mind.
Hidden By Painted Colors Softly Blending On Closed Eye Lids.
Splashes Of Color Painted On Lips.
Cloths, Worn Out, Hiding Faded Spots, Slightly Ripped.
Visions Dancing Behind Eyes, Where The Curtain Was Not Faded, Nor The Gold Ropes Brittle.
A Time where the lights shone down on the perfect floor.
Memories of the stage.
In older times, dancing, ballet; Faces painted white, no words to say;
Hand crafted props, better, before cardboard was made.
Art thee not afraid?
A few lines from a play.
Excitement, pored with laughter, A comedy, "touche".
A drama causing tears, on cheeks to lay.
Pointed toes, rising oh, oh, so high, Dancing together to reach the sky.
An Act, An Art, Not A circus, of course.
Days So far away, where every night was a new play, A new life each day.
Memories, Pictures painted in a vivid color display,
behind thee actors painted eyes. Memories Of The Stage Lay.
A POET LAST WISH
Thou my day spent like,
The sun in sky.
Shined like a diamond in
The diaper,
My life thought pored out rays,
A solider thought about going
And not coming.
A king that has not been crowned
Ah! Ah!! Ah!!! It is only when
Its down you remember the sun.
I the creator of images from thought
The creator of symbolism from mind
The molder of life’s by my writing
The molder of conscience by images
If I could write my own part,
I will not be gotten
If I could see the days to come
I will be remember now, but late gotten
Tell my children, children, children, am a poet.
The hero that was note given
Part poet
I have not fought any war but
Human conscience
Now my heart heavy after
Death I am a hero
REASONS OF WRITING
It is written after reading biography of so many poets that it is only after dead that they are remember. So am saying that I should be remember when am alive or tell my children. It is the wish of a very body to know the extend in which he/she has contributed to life. It is also the wish of poet to be remember when they are still alive. Dedicated to all poets. Place of writing
Igonigoni in Abi Cross River State Nigeria.
MESSAGE
1. One importance is not always acknowledge until they are gone, A poet wants it to be turn aside to be acknowledge when still alive.
2. That they should be remember now and tell his children, children, children that he is a hero but he has not fought any war but conscience.
I never had a person in my life that understands me like you do,
you came into my life unnoticeable and i new that you were true.
I pored out my heart to you, and you listened when no one did,
you pored out your heart to me like a fact that couldn't be concealed.
I never thought that meeting a person like you would make me smile again,
so now i walk around with a big smile, not a grin.
Every time i look into your eyes i want to go swimming,
cause you draw me in without a sense of knowing.
The perfect shape of your smile bring me hope,
and your lips that look so luscious when you smile gives me hope.
A hope that there are people in this world that give a dam,
not like the people that take and take everything away.
Your kind heart sings out to mine all the time of the night,
and when i look at you i feel like i don't ever want to lose that sight.
Your beauty makes me weak,
your long dark hair that hangs down so sleek.
Your loving hands that wave hello are too soft for me,
and your cute little feet that make you look perfect in your frame.
I just hope, dream and wish that we will always be like this till the end of my days,
cause i cant do it alone, without a friend like you by my side i would just go other ways.
So please hold my hand where ever you go, and hold it tight
cause all i want to do is look at your beautiful sight.
You are amazing, that's why i don't feel like a ghost,
cause your love made me care for you the most.
I pored over my weather maps contriving a prognostication,
Of the weather forecast for the consumption of the British population.
It comprised all the towns, villages and shires from A to Zed,
To include the burgs of Wookey Hole, Wyre Piddle and Guys Head!
The towns of Crazies Hill and Cuckoo's Nest could expect clear skies,
Nasty, Mucking and Mousehole were included in this surmise.
Rain bode for Scrooby, Spital, Tiptoe and Brian's Puddle,
Ugley, Ramsbottom, Fitchfield and the village of Affpuddle.
Hail would visit the towns of Piddlehinton, Diddlebury and Pill,
Sots Hole, Inkpen, Birdlip, Scagglethorpe and Toot Hill.
I warned Catbrain, Clock Face and Daffy Green to expect sleet.
That also included Giggleswick, Kibblesworth and Cackle Street.
Broadbottom, Muggleswick and Barking were to be aware of fog,
As well as Yelling, Wigglesworth, Slaggyford and Black Dog.
Scattered clouds were billed for Crackpot, Beer and Fairy Cross,
And for the areas of Fugglestone, Great Snoring and Balls Dross.
Beanacre, Fatfield, Wham and Jump could expect some light snow.
Raging gales I predicted for Lickey End and Harrowbarrow.
Conditions change in minutes in High Brooms and Frog Pool.
I dare not divine weather for those blokes, 'cause I'm nobody's fool!
A moment a sliver a chance to go back
If only I could I know right where to be exact.
I'd go to the moment to the time in my past
Where effort was put but love didn't last
I take a deep breath and I'd smile sweetly
And wrap a few woes of my future up neatly
I'd realize without effort and right on the spot.
That love takes work but it's all that we got.
I'd walk away from the pain doubt and confusion
I'm sorry if I am just an intrusion
I thought that with work that love could dwell in me.
Boy was I wrong this you will see.
I sacrificed and adjusted time and ttime again
Laid my heart out left it wide open
I pored forth all that I had stored inside
But each time it was never enough love left my side.
Life turned me cold for a short time
Took away my words left no rhyme
Gradually healing slow and steady
Life keeps going even when we aren't ready
S0ometimes effort isn't quite enough
Sometimes his hide is so tough
Breaking through seems dam near impossible
The outcome inevitable
Once I met someone whom I will love for all time
Although each day the sun sets and still he is not mine
Each morning I awaken and breathe once again
And steadily let the day begin