Long Pummeled Poems

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


Winds of Change

i lay stilled atop this muddied cold ground
a castaway like autumn's leaves deadened
unable, unwilling to move around
i sit bloodied, like skies of dawn, reddened

i am bathed in november's cold, harsh rain
pummeled by the fate of past's sniffling cries
slowly succumbing beneath weighted pain
i reach out attempting to dry my eyes

perhaps it is the will of fate to die
to wither and crumble atop this ground
to gather where the helpless others lie
to succumb here, unseen, wrinkled and browned

is life's pain something to be remembered
or cast off in the winds of december?


11/21/2020
Form: Sonnet


Origins

ORIGINS

I
It began in the dank basement of the Thallasic column
steeped in abyssal brine of a thousand supernovae
so much alchemic sludge churned up, expelled by the co-tidal vice into the epeiric sea
 
A million points of organic flotsam and jetsam; Indra’s vast net billowing, swollen and bloated by myriad regurgitating fountains, shattered vents, open ocean scars 
from which inky bathyl streamers wave to and fro
a trillion interactions, a revolution every second

The colossus flexes, stirs.
 
 
II
The inland sea carved a path awash with silt and sand-grain memories of a thousand shores
the alluvium mire replete with vagabond deposits
buoyant and bobbing
ethereal strands of angel hair wafting through the abyss
nerves and sinews and veins
myriad natant snowflakes tripping atop organic ooze
vast web spanning to the lapping fetch on clay-layered littoral ledges.
 
 
III
The swirling brew, rain-pummeled and vent-swollen 
dividing, sub-dividing, swept by bitter sea brine 
its mind’s eye under a thick film squints open.

---Life was not wrought in the witch’s cauldron---
---The Cauldron itself came to life---
 
The Universe awoke from its eternal slumber, and Thalassa stirred
rocked and bathed in a vast  organic web, star lit and floating in a Nebula of Dreams
 

IV
Information-gathering units
each body a corpus of datum
splitting, spinning, joining, fusing 
probing, flattening, bloating, separating
spawning countless non-appendage heralds
crawling, flying, walking, swimming, floating
 
WE ARE THE MANY IN THE ONE
WE ARE THE ONE OF THE MANY
 
WE ARE THALASSA

Premium Member Deviant Taunts

Upon the horizon darkness loomed
mocking the shadows in my heart
Love was doomed, dismally abused
Emotions bleeding out
Have I succumbed to malaise and died
If there's a faint pulse 
I have no notion
of a vortex if one is whirling

There's a windstorm's fury howling
somewhere in the distance, 
an angry thunder is roaring back,
mimicking the zephyr's bullied shout
revealing the deviant taunt 
lying deep within his black soul

A safe haven have I found
since I've been swept away
into a sanctuary he cannot enter
Emptiness is but a pittance to pay
for a portal into the eye of a storm 
Lightning flashes outside my sheltered nook
striking as quickly as words pummeled me
Emotional scars from verbal blows
left me numb, drained, void of feeling

Twisters are not appeased or reconciled
by anyone for the devastation they cause
They refuse to say penance 
Slowly, the tempest soothed.  Quiet its bellow
Was I to be left naked to eyes that pry
And what of the coward, the spineless fellow
who ridiculed my love with a smirk

Turbulent gusts calmed, ceased blowing
I was fetal tucked on sodden ground
Loneliness reigned in solitude, 
tears overflowing beneath closed lids
I was saved by the eye of the storm  
but he was never found
I found that profound justice
Heavy had been the albatross of emptiness 
that had long strewn itself around me
I suppose he lay somewhere among the debris
Wounds healed from the storm's cleansing 
I no longer cower for I have been set free
Clear skies as I rise
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Here I come to Save the Day

Here I come to save the day!
That means that Mighty Mouse is on his way!
This theme song delighted us in the sixties, we knew what to expect
Our Super hero began flying toward us, starting out as tiny speck.

When he got closer, we began to cheer and shout.
We knew someone was going to get the wrath of his clout.
He took us to exotic locals like Switzerland, Holland and Italy.
Sometimes he would bring prehistoric times into our TV.

No matter where Mighty Mouse went, he saved the day.
With this super mouse, villains did not dare try to play.
He pounded and pummeled them and trussed them up too.
Watching these bullies get what they deserved never made me blue.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sorrow Fell Like Nettled Tears

To the sound of pelting rain, I woke this early morning
Upon the tattered roof, it rhythmically pitter pattered
No sunlight peeked through clouds on daylight's dawning
I saw him in a dream and those that were shattered,
and of nights I'd spent without end, remorse spawning

Windblown rain pummeled windows. On sills it splashed
Obscured was my view, vision blurred behind each pane
Howled as does a wolf, thunder growled, lightning flashed
In rivulets like rain, was the weeping I struggled to restrain
Like blood dripping from a wound, as if my heart was slashed

That night, in shadowed lamplight I'd espied on the corner,
a familiar silhouette of one whose countenance was given
Green eyes stared at me, not with looks of a foreigner 
No words were spoken as riven torrents of rain were driven
He was beyond the reach of this sad beseeching mourner

I ventured outside and into the sting of nettled showers
for just one more glimpse of him ~ that was my reason
On the street, scattered at my feet were wilted flowers
Fallacy, was an act Charlotte Bronte' would label 'treason'
Uncloaked and soaked, I stood with memories for hours

From grief I could not hide nor abide my mirrored face
His eyes were unveiled, and yet not one word did he speak
There were no spun silk threads, woven in warm embrace
He had raised no hand in farewell. A tear grazed my cheek
Without solace I would linger in portals of this empty place

I trembled, shivering and teary eyed. There was no mistaking
that sips from a tainted cup had the caustic taste of bitter gall
My impeccant knight chose as his right to claim this forsaking
Nimbus skies lay overcast without surcease of a graying pall
Fraught with an echoing ache I whispered, "My heart is breaking."
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


First Amendment In Jeopardy

Lifeblood of democracy hemorrhaging
ousting the "FAKE" president only recourse
to staunch impending grim demise,
since forefathers drafted
United States Constitution
ratified more'n two centuries ago

hoi polloi must take to the streets
denouncing severe curtailment
impinging sacred freedom of speech
linkedin with paramount bedrock provision
accessing unvarnished flint stoned "truth,"
nonetheless commander in chief

he quakingly, staunchly, vociferously...
excoriates, lacerates, repudiates...
one damning hermetically sealed,
iniquitous airtight, vacuum packed
flagrant misuse of power,
(not to mention nepotism)

invidious, insidious, injurious... infractions
incontestable, incontrovertible, contemptible...
significant melange in führer
re: hating deplorably
crooked basely barren
factual exposé after another,

deft correspondents all not quiet
along western front
(I heard Maria - mull remark)
bring "to light" execrable,
lamentable reprehensible...
gross transgressions

commander in chief
significantly overstepped
Pulitzer prize winning
prestigious storied publications
scathingly trounced, pillaried,
lambasted, insulted, denounced,

butchered, critiqued, demonized,
fricassed, gored, humiliated,...
pummeled, quartered, reviled
courageously expounding fiend
ensconced within his Taj Mahal

impregnable donjon, whereat he trumpets
laurels asper, nonpareil administration
laying groundless accusations
baring his white fangs,
twittering, naysaying, mocking.. supreme
renown gifted by "honest Abe"

recalcitrant commander in chief,
who refutes objectionable
dogged investigative journalism
every step of the way,
where dedicated news gatherers
risk life and limb

firing line reportage troopers
ferreting (foxlike) he/she
doth gopher precious nuggets
uncover alarming undisputable details
impossible to refute raw bits
agent provocateur freely colluding

immediately hashtashed poppycock
smarmy, snooty, snappy
beastly capital one ogre
blatantly castigating diligent endeavors
oblivious pie in sky
delusional egotistic haughtiness
bobblehead vilified by silent majority.
Form: Ode

Premium Member Emerald Green Eyes

The carnage was brutal; I’ll tell you no lies.
The carcasses lay all over the ground.
The devil incarnate, thinly disguised.
Exposed in the open, relief not around.

Relentless, unceasing, no mercy was shown;
They pressed for advantage where one could be found.
They flew kamikaze, not acting alone,
With emerald green eyes, golden evil rained down.

Damned near omniscient, they nimbly dodge foes,
Escaping when odds seemed impossibly thin.
Pummeled their target, a thousand small blows,
Snatching by drops, the sweet treasure therein.

A chink in the armor, defenses were planned;
The enemy’s weakness: a repeatable tell.
For the briefest of time before the bite lands,
All senses are swamped, overcome by just smell.

The message was relayed out to the front lines:
Wait to the last moment, for that is your chance.
Before they attack, just watch for the signs:
Their eyes will go dim, they’ll go into a trance.

Reports were encouraging - those that came back.
Momentum was shifting, but surely not won.
For some waited late and mistimed the attack:
The enemy killed, but more damage was done.

Cloud cover rolled, and the skies turned to gray.
It may have been lighting, but no one could say.
Perhaps they had suffered enough in the fray,
Though the deer flies withdrew, they’d be back the next day…

----------

for the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 1 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written on 06/14/2022
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
war
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Reluctance of the Young Runner

The Reluctance of the Young Runner

           by Edmund Siejka

He was a gawky teenager
On a high school track team
Intimidated by his coach
Who exercised almost total control
Over him.

He was examined
Tested
Questioned what he ate
How much he weighed
It became too much to bear
That he couldn’t tell anyone you
How lonely he felt.

Running at a track meet
Neck and neck for third place 
The finish line seemed unreachable
His parents, watching from crowded bleachers,
Were proud 
Impatiently calling out his name
When suddenly he fell
Tripping over some unknown thing lying on the track.

Falling, his long legs cascaded over the white lines of the track
Colliding with the front runner
Who had the looks of an actor 
And the temperament of a snake.

The coach was angry
Thick fingers pummeled the young runner’s chest
Because he fell
The team was disappointed
Not so much for him
But for the lead runner
Who struggled to third place.

Facing dismissal from the team
An inner smile caressed the young boy’s heart
No more coach, no more watching
Waves of relief gently cascaded over him
Bringing with it
A sudden realization
That he would no longer 
Have to hide.
Form: Narrative

Rippled Layers of Agate

I remember in her eyes the color of Christmas day 
and the taste of melted butter in the early morning sun 
The cadence of her voice the undertone sounds
 of her silences,  it was long ago 

She was a matriarchal mountain of energy back in days
when her hair was red and her cheeks were pummeled pink 
Decadent cakes for Christ's birthday, accompanied by her own 
we ate cheerfully with eyes aglow

Then in the eve of midnight we unwrapped 
secrets of her hand me downs, a knitted family tree
prepping up  our dreams we slept without the know 
that Christmases of future, would hold no mistletoe 

I remember her eyes , two melting Chocolates  
and her laughter,  rippled layers of agate.

Premium Member Irma

Irma
 Franklin Price
9/7/2017

Irma came to terrorize
Spawned in the East Atlantic
Intensity as never seen
She's something quite Satanic

Became a category five
Before she touched the shore
With winds above one eighty
Around the wall and more

Came into the Leewards
Destroyed Barbuda Isle
Buildings, trees and autos
Left them rubble in a pile

What about the people
They hid and hunkered down
Some no longer with us
No longer are around

There was no stopping Irma
With that flat and tiny place
She set sights on bigger things
And Florida is the place

Along the way are other islands
To be pummeled with effect
Residents are praying
That Irma won't connect

Likewise within the Sunshine State
The people kneel and pray
That Irma veers before them
Turns north and moves away

Predicted there by Saturday
September nine will tell
The weather men a little stumped
When and where she rings the bell

God, please protect the people 
As big Irma makes the fall 
Protect our friends and family
And the people one and all
Form: Rhyme

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