Long Prisoner Poems

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


A Story About a Bird

"THE BIRD CANNOT FLY"

No matter how hard he flaps his wings body won’t lift,
is it obesity or small wings?
He shouldn’t devour the food mother 
fed him but do some exercise for flying,

worse yet, 
he pecked on and bit siblings 
in order to snatch all the food 
the mother brought back causing them all to die;
his gluttonous appetite and cruel treatment made 
him incapable of lifting his body in the air; 

if a bird cannot fly, he is not a bird anymore 
then, where to go and what to become to fly in the air. 

"THE BIRD LOST SONG" 

Although he had a beautiful voice
he drank sweet wines to have a more beautiful voice,
he smoked marijuana to have a more voluminous voice;
blinded by brilliant stage lights and fancy spots,  
intoxicated from the shouts of fans, he ruined himself 
in the tremendous popularity,

his fame made him arrogant, he fell into narcissism,
he jumped up and down on the stage and soared in the air 
to tear down the floodlights hanging from the ceiling,
foolish enough to think that his feathers are brighter  
more luminous than the floodlights; flapping his glittering wings,  
he fell from the ceiling and was sucked into a bottomless pit.

"THE BIRD WITHOUT FEATHERS"

The starlight reflecting on a treetop is so beautiful
though he knew he couldn’t fly anymore, he stretched 
open his old and infirm wings and flapped, looking at the sky, 
to soar in the air; alas, Zeus’s thunderbolt struck him that moment.

His body was torn to pieces, his feathers were plucked away,
and because of all his cuts and bruised body, the remaining plumage 
lost its splendorous colors; no matter how well he took care, 
lost glossiness never to be restored, no matter how gently he combs, 
his feathers fall out feebly;

when he looks back, he was a prisoner of vice 
he was obsessed by insatiable lust,

the flower is so colorful 
it smelled so sweet, he kept following  
bewitched by the beauty of its alluring looks;
before he was aware of it, he got stuck in the mud, sunk into 
the depth of vice; and though, he got out from mud just before 
he was suffocated to death, his entire body was covered with 
the scabs of evil, 

the water flows, though he has no strength 
to cross the river any more, it’s time to, he may be 
washed away by the water, or dip himself in the water 
to wash his scabs of evil out.
© Su Ben  Create an image from this poem.


The Piper

THE PIPER                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               He came from nowhere piping.                                                                                                         We danced and danced in his trail.                                                                                                   Our eyes popped out as elation swayed us.                                                                          Suddenly,  His pipe creaked and cracked.                                                                                   All feet hung  as 
 sky  dimmed her lights...                                                                        
Silhouettes of Gun -shooting Devils everywhere..       
Plodding hands of death lurking in the dark,                                                                             lurking in the open... like hawk, Hawking chicken...                                                                Human heads fallen off as of woodcutters in frenzy.                                                             
cutting down trees.                                                                    
Cry, my  beloved Country!,  Nigeria! how fast you fade,                                                                                fading into oblivion, like a soviet.                                                                                                        Oh Soviet! I bemoan you;  once a cathedral's bell,                                                                         you  chimmed for all nations, now a shadow lying                                                                 beneath history.                                                                                         
And the Piper! Now a prisoner for his people                                                                         because he said no to a carnibal system,                                                                              because he said no to a divide and rule system...       
Your music is forever replaying to our hearts.                           
By  Akudolu Ignatius

The Adventures of Enea, Part 5 of 13

Enea Gets the Red Hat

Finally, he's getting somewhere. 
Fifty years of age and almost crippled, 
prematurely aged, but at last, 
sweet recognition rains down 
on the poet. Kneeling before Calixtus, 
he accepts the Cardinal's hat. 
Fancy that. 

With every triumph, we're swept nearer Hell. 
Each anthem that we sing's a kind of knell. 
No matter what we get, or grab, or gain, 
we're human, and our lot is death and pain. 

Both Frederick and Ladislas 
had to do a lot of lobbying 
(Calixtus was a Borgia, after all: 
and family is family.) Por fin, 
esta elevado. Behold the scene. 

Frederick with his back to us 
and Ladislas holding on to him 
(shouldn't that be the other way round?) 
deserve their pride of place. 
The seething swell of humans 
swirls around the little altar, 
but can't budge it. 
The clear-cut marble doesn't give. 
What is the painter telling us? 
Men move, and flow, and live, and go, 
but soon or later, their 
energy is spent? 
The Church is permanent? 

Regard the four main players, 
the upper crust of Mankind's many layers, 
yet each one a loser clone. 
Calixtus took the throne 
already old, and singing one stale tune 
(and that, corrupt!) 
He didn't use a long spoon 
when he supped. 
There's Frederick, the Emperor, 
a joke. Bullied by his minions, 
unhappy, hapless, broke. 
And Ladislas, a king without a kingdom, 
a cock without a crest, 
he's Frederick's long-term guest 
(another kind of jest). 

A prisoner -- or let's say, at home, 
he and Frederick make a palindrome: 
august additions to this Pleasure Dome. 
Enea: worn out, homesick, ill. 
Surviving now on sheer will. 
Is that Nature's tonsure, or Man's? 
He's kept alive by feverish plans 
to mount a Great Crusade -- 
but we all know it won't be made. 

Two rigid windows and an altarpiece. 
The Trinity? (The painting is the Holy Ghost.) 
Or are those plain, framed panes 
the Empire and the Papacy? 
You think we're reading too much in? 
We point you to one subtle artist's touch. 

The youth, right-centre, in the azure cloak, 
who's smirking at some "only-I-know" joke: 
head cocked, as if he's watching all, askance: 
he finds the dainty, double-dealing dance 
amusing. Isn't he Rafael? 
Hatted like some crimson Cardinal, 
he's watching how they rise up, how they fall. 
He's waiting, calmly, to inherit all.
Form: Rhyme

The Fortress Part !

Matters not how much I may want to rescue you
That closed steel door I cannot walk through
Outside the door feet planted firmly on the ground
Knocking every so gently trying not to pound
But everytime my knuckles on the door they tap
Stinging fire flies out and my face is slapped
Through the pain I can hear your plaintiff calling
For something to save you from further falling
So to my purpose I try bravely to stay true
Attempting to find a path to get through
To figure out a way in which my spirit can fly
Over walls of brick so tall they touch the sky
A prisoner within chained by ego, pain and guilt
There I can see the Fortress you've built
Out of the windows fire of anger consumes
Any real healing touch you continue to refuse
Because the rescue does not come totally free
Only you have the power to open the door and choose to believe
"Can't and won't take the risk you say
Of the sorrow you'd feel when it all blows away
Denying that you must search deep down inside
Beyond your walls and utterly foolish pride
You can keep decorating the walls as long as you like
And continue convincing yourself it's your lot in life
And when the spirits that be send you a sign
Crush it with cruelty and continue to resign
To the anger that keeps reaching out with a fire that burns
Against a true spirit whose soul only yearns
For nothing more than to grant your wish
Of inner peace and true love sealed with a kiss
But all the angry fire steals my strength
Taking my sensitive spirit to it's very length
My failure then scars my heart truly bad
That after the pain I become so very sad
Once able to see through my heartfelt tears
I know it so well and can feel all your fears
If only my love spirit I wish for you to see
How I offer all I have to you so humbly
Because even after the faeries come carry me away
The gift I give to you is to ease your dismay
No intent to cause pain or wreak havoc in your heart
Just only for you to escape the lonely part
Simple and free with no evil involved
"First" you say. "So many issues to resolve"
The walls of brick you've built over time
Seems like an eternity they would take to climb
When all along if you so choose
With a blink of an eye and not a moment to lose
It's been a matter of your choice to reach beyond
Those walls of protection to which you've grown so fond
........Cont'd in Part II
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member That Was Then - This Is Now

“Freedom is just another word for nothin left to lose.
Feeling good was easy Lord, when he sang the blues” ~ Janis Joplin ~

    Life was filled with laughter.
      A feeling of happy ever after.
       We knew each other so well.
        Walking on air, a magic spell.
         Nothing better than my hand in yours.
          We even enjoyed doing chores.
            You called me your own sweet pea.
             No more joyful woman there could ever be.
              People would stare as we walked down the street.
               A more in love couple they couldn’t meet.
                I trusted you with my life.
                 Tears of joy the day you asked me to be your wife.
                   We were going to be a family.
                    How proud we would be.
                     My heart would take flight.
                       At the wonderful sight,
                        Of you coming through the door,
                         Arms laden with roses galore.
                           I knew nothing could be better some how,
                             But that was then and this is now.
                            Life turned grey and filled with fears,
                           You couldn’t be with me to wipe my tears.
                          The sun still shines inside these prison walls.
                         You don’t hear when my lonely heart calls.
                        The sun here is a prisoner too,
                      And I can think of nothing but missing you.
                     Now I face each day alone,
                   And saddest of all is waking up on my own.
                   Chilled by the harsh steel of these prison bars.
                  No windows to seek countenance from the stars.
                 You can’t bring me roses, they won’t survive.
                I sometimes feel that I am no longer alive.
              You have lost your own true sweet pea.
             No more hope of us having a family.
            Cause that was then and this is now.
          One mistake changed it all some how.
        I don’t see beyond all the tears.
      Your wife to be, will be here for years.
     Freedom is gone and I carry on.
    Wings clipped like a flightless swan.
   Some days I see the sun’s bright hue.
  But the sun in here is a prisoner too.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member A Living Hell My Agoraphobia

My Agoraphobia.
In 1983 you came back  into my life.
Bringing me nothing, but trouble and strife.
You kept me a prisoner in my own home.
When all I longed for, Was to go out alone.
You caused me pain, you made cry,
I felt so ill, I thought I would die.
From doctor, to doctor, from pillar to post.
Where o where, is the cure I wanted the most?
Where exactly does the answer lie?
Eventually I found it, in a doctor called Di.
She gave me the will to carry on and fight.
I fought so hard, with all of  my might.
The shops in the village seemed so very far away.
If only I could go out, just for one single day.
I tried and tried, the tears, the pain,
It was a battle lose or gain,
I gave it everything, yes everything I had.
It wasn’t easy, in fact, it was very bad.
In 1990, after 7 long years,
A lot of heartache, many, many tears,
I was starting to win the battle of getting out the door,
With each day, I was doing more and more,
But there was still so many things that I couldn’t do alone.
Still so many jobs, that had to be done on the phone.
I could now walk to the shops, there and back,
 get the groceries, take them home, and unpack,
But I still couldn’t get a bus into town on my own,
only if I had someone to go with, borrowed, on loan.
It took several more years, of heartbreak and pain,
Before I could finally travel alone again.
May 2nd  2000, I jumped on a bus and popped into town,
It was just like my world had been turned upside down.
HERE WAS I FREE AT LAST,
Finally free to forget the past.
So I decided to do something I had never done before. 
I started at college part time, each day I couldn’t wait to get out of the door,
To catch my bus, to feel like I had finally rejoined the human race.
Living life at a hectic pace.
Going to college at the age of 53,
Really did do wanders for me.
The computer course was harder than I thought it would be, 
but others in the class helped me.
Our tutor was really nice,
Always ready with good advice.
Now I really feel I have turned my life completely around,
With this new freedom I have found.
With a lot of help, from my husband and son,
The battle is over, finally won.
So its goodbye agoraphobia you belong in the past,
Never again will you get me in your grasp.

This is a true poem of my own battle with Agoraphobia, That robbed me of a lot of my life,
© Pat Dring  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Last Train To Auschwitz

Family love is born in little rooms,
around sofas, settees, dinner plates,
with paternal bond that strengthens and grooms,
unswerving link that lasts till heaven’s gates!

We were such family in a French town,
traditional, true, religious us four,
mother was good at making wedding gowns,
father a decorator ran paint store!

Sister and I watched German troops on streets,
Tuesday August year nineteen forty three,
parents held us close, could hear their heartbeat,
that was the last day we would all be free!

Dragged on to street by the Nazi soldiers,
our father was punched kicked and beaten blue,
we wept helpless, clung to mother’s shoulders,
that was the last of our father we knew!

Pulled away from mother and Sis I cried,
screaming imploring, no mercy, no heart,
that day for me when humanity died,
was day my family was torn apart!

Packed in a train suffocating with stench,
alone defeated waited journey’s end,
with dead and dying that made stomach wrench,
four days of thirst and suffering to spend.

I remember that train to Auschwitz well,
journey that destroyed many lives like mine, 
where our love and hope to tyranny fell,
to death we were paraded in a line!

Six months past we heard exchange of fire,
that made evil enemy pack and run,
We were all rescued from behind barbed wire,
was still hope and goodness under the Sun!

When God smiles he smiles generously well,
lifts suffering souls from bottomless pit,
That day he was smiling we could all tell,
his eyes perhaps gleaming and face well lit!

Each life and hope with dignity restored,
we were treated, bathed clothed and given food,
In room of people saw face I adored,
sobbing with outstretched arms my mother stood!

United with mother back to my house,
and years of togetherness we would share,
on the wall hangs our striped prisoner blouse,
to tell trappings of hatred and its snare!

The train to Auschwitz took many to death,
guilt ridden, to and fro ran that train, 
but tracks remain, hate may creep back in stealth!
train to Auschwitz should never run again!
 

Premier contest 6th placement 
Written 09/April/2021
10 syllables each line (PS syllable count)
based on a true story as related by a 93 yr old Auschwitz survivor
The last train to Auschwitz poetry competition
Kai Michael Neumann sponsored
Form: Rhyme

Glass Castles

You told me back when I was young,
That before we both grew
Old,
One day we'd live inside a mansion
Full of all the richest
Gold.
You said you'd give me diamonds, and write my 
Name up in the sky
You said you knew it looked bad now,
But one day we could fly

At first, you were so gentle
And at first, I 
Believed.
I thought you were my noble king, and I trusted
Your honesty
But you fell into an amber bottle, you got
Addicted to the drink
You bruised my all-too-innocent heart
And it started to sink

You took my wildest fairytales and
Spun them into dreams
No matter how unreal they were, no matter how 
Out of reach.
You said we'd have a palace full of fancy, shiny things
Then you drenched it in your alcohol
Now it's not worth a thing

You said I'd be a princess, but I look
More like a toad.
I thought I'd own a horse-drawn
Carriage, 
But I'm riding on a goat
I envisioned a golden crown, a sapphire-studded throne
You promised me glass castles,
But now you're casting
Stones

When you started hitting, you beat
Down my sense of pride
I wrapped my heart up in barbed wire
To protect its blackened
Eye
You shattered all my high hopes and trapped me inside
These walls
Now I live confined in shackles, a prisoner 
Of a drunken war. 
These words are my rebellion
I hope this pen can 
Beat the sword

You murdered all my angels, and you
Sent them straight to Hell
You conquered me with demons when I thought you
Meant well
You sought only to own me, to isolate me here
With you
You're so afraid of burning, you'd drag me 
Right down, too

I let you blind me with your lies,
Let you gag me with
Your ties
You ventured all the wrong places with your
Red and hazy eyes
It's bad enough that you demanded,
Even worse, you'd  pass
The buck
But most tragic is the fact that I merely gave
It up

The mirrors are cracked and broken
From your constant booze-fueled
Brawl
The images are useless, and I can't see who you are at all
What happened to the sweet and loving
Person I once knew?
But thinking that, I have to laugh, because
That was never you

I softly egg you to confess, but
You tell me I'm to blame
For all of your misfortunes, and you bury me in shame
I'd be better off an orphan
This place could never be my home
You promised me glass castles
But now you're casting 
Stones
Form: Rhyme

Epiphany

I had an epiphany today 
The first one in a long time
Such an interesting organ the brain
So many studies
Yet no one knows how consciousness really works
And if it even abides in the brain at all 
My brain has been broken
And I alone am the only one who can fix it
Broken people
Not having it all together people
Don't always realize this
Or they have traveled so far down the rabbit hole
They no longer want to
Which leads me to my epiphany
Not only is my reality not yours
It does not need to be
I cannot describe the pureness I felt in that moment
The freedom
I started to cry
It wasn't until the moment I felt those chains slip free
Did I realize they were encasing me
I had been a prisoner in my own mind
Trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be
Never realizing my own voice have been turned on mute
Suddenly the beauty that I had been blind to for weeks months years 
Surrounded me
Colors bombarded my eyes even as tears flowed out of them
And the birds... ah yes the birds
They have come to represent an evil few have ever known
I think I might remember what a dove used to sound like
But the song that reaches my ears no longer bares any resemblance 
To the song that reaches yours
But as of this moment I am OK with that 
Because this is the life I live now
I did not choose it
It was forced upon me 
My faceless enemies 
These monsters had their fun
But they did not win
Because I live every moment of my life
I have never allowed it to just pass me by
And though I have not chosen the path I was forced to take
It has been my choice to rise above
With strength, integrity and empathy
Always empathy
And though I have not one bit of knowledge on how to conquer the unknown
My story will be written
So that the forgotten will know they are not alone
I will shout it from the mountains high
And though I know many will not believe
I just need enough to realize the truth
Because while I was in the vipers pit everywhere I turned 
Complete darkness
I know that so much was a delusion
Yet I also know that enough of it was irrefutably true
To let me know that it was real
It only takes a spark
And although it goes against my very compassionate nature
I want to burn these Mother F***ers to the ground

09/31/2019 Rock Bottom Pick a Line any Line Poetry Contest Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux

Escapism

Foundation.

If you could escape this world, would you take that risk?


Escapism 

As if cursed by the son of perdition

As I go about my new life's mission to gain admission to her realm

With Aphrodite's dead ringer who whispers songs of exquisite rendition

Praying a lone arrow from Eros bow will strike, drawing gasps from the angels watching

High in the midnight sky 

As I breathe in her sweet aroma and passion filled scent, like pure oxygen 

And feel regal like a king
Like King Solomon 

As her aura captures my soul like a moth is attracted to a flame

So now all dark nights appear so long and so black

As the shadow people slowly advance
Whispering my name 

For they know I have been changed by someone so radical.
As I entered the Fifth Dimension one strange night 

Looking to finding a love so sacred and magical
But that's the magic of searching for the fantastical

For as sure as winds seduce trees by subtle caresses 

As the world wakes each year in a new spring and fresh life begins

I write this before I go to the Hidden Forest

Where the White Ash stands

Where green ivy hides the entrance to her lair, and other slaves play music, while chained to metal stands

With the smell of incense on patrol in the electricity filled air

Ready to invade lungs and take control

It's ten to two in the morning and I have to appear at four

So if I don't come back, I leave this for you to know I'm fine

Keep the house 
Car and money 

For I'm going to a new place where fear no longer exists 

A place I hope welcomes me in

Just pray for me that I don't 
lose my soul and become just another flesh slave 

Chained up playing music in her band

A prisoner trapped forever in her cave

As she sits or stands
On her golden throne singing with her crimson red lips

You're now mine
Now get in line

Your time will come play

For now, you're caught 
And can no longer run away

For you're now just another one of my familiars

One in a trillion 
No longer a civilian 

All this I know for a German called Schiller

Told me over the internet
Told me to come over

Told me I'd be a member of a wolf pack serving a queen in The Great In-Between 

So here I am

Pray for me 
Ma ***

Forever yours
Your son 
Jimmie 0

(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Form: Rhyme

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