Long Puzzle Poems
Long Puzzle Poems. Below are the most popular long Puzzle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Puzzle poems by poem length and keyword.
"Puzzle Stomped"
Pieces scattered
placed on a table
with boundaries
between
the incarcerated margins
there are strict conditions
Time drips
its wet connection
each piece a stair fitted
imperfectly
perfect
towards upwards
new mirror reflection
a cracked heart piercing
the tear with savage dedication
behind her veil
the known Morpheus assails
her compromised senses
holding her captured
behind the external view
eyes blindfolded
the blue sashes now let loose
opening green windows to
free the redressed vicissitudes
to undress the crisp breeze of her
monk chanting wake
a new phantom arrives caressing secrets
gambled on a fresh Delius
composing his unfinished symphony
he’s looking for her singular notes
Somewhere,
he stands behind her
sharp as a needle,
cutting tall poppy
each step she takes
towards her freedom gate
In his hands he cups
the hidden
missing piece
The sewing of pages
she continues to bind
in her sleep
along a strong spine
turning and folding stories
uncommon ne'er sublime
their spelt magic
grows majestically spoilt
seeded from a sweet perfume
conducting intoxicating notes
stories flying black-winged
off all the slippery knaves
and wax-sealed pages
like ebony feathers
mummerating starlings
turn into suffocating
dream stealing
king crows smiling maces
She the Smythsewer
laying tenuous imprints
for a new road home
He the myth Beyond
shakes the game board
peace in pieces, a long forgotten song
the chance card thrown
the blanket of romance
thundering over a stormy mind grows
patch worked with glassed-in
jarred ghost bees, the old
puzzle of a story stomped on
He places his feet
firmly between hers
closing in on time
Beyond takes her hand
And sensually whispers
along all her fairest fears
sweeping all pieces off her
tattered story board
fallen irretrievable
forgotten
left lacking
on the harsh floor
Cum dederit
dilectis suis somnum,
Ecce haereditas
to the tune of fate
there is so much more
the words are sewn and sung
the child in time fled
long gone, as if all was pure fantasy
destiny arrives supernaturally too soon
Time for a new story
He says darkly
and swiftly closes
Past’s door.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
In all honesty,
I never learned your name.
I didn’t need to;
The look in your eyes is your name
Like fireflies, they twinkle and glimmer your name
A name I love saying
The way you stare at me
It’s like I’m the color yellow,
And I’m painting away the grey of your world
That’s what you tell me
As my head rests in the crook of your neck, and your fingers trail up the bare of my hip
You’re yellow, and sunshine to me you say
And I’m grey like a pebble, soaking up your rays
I laugh
But grey is my favorite color I tell you
It’s the color of the skies on the days I’m tucked in your arms, because its too cold and wet to go outside
It’s the color of my favorite blanket that I keep under my bed
Its only for special occasions
When I need to cry and shake and let the dreams of the night know I’m not okay
You’re not just for special occasions though
You’re for every occasion. Every fight, every dance,
Every laugh with my head thrown back and my fingers tightening around you for purchase because laughing with you is like an ******, it breaks me, it builds me, it loves me
Even when you’re not here
I still think of you
I sit you beside me, and tell you thoughts, even when reality speeds around us, and you’re not really there
Even now I can sit you beside me
And trace the figures of your love with my eyes
Black hair, straight and deep. Sometimes short, sometimes long; I can’t choose, you’re beautiful either way
Brown eyes, deep like the dirt flowers and dreams can only sprout in, that burn like the hearts of spinning stars
Tall, and I hate it, but you always use it to your advantage to capture me tight
I lied
I love it
Long fingers, and you pluck secrets and whimpers from me like notes from a harp
God, I love them
God, I crave them
You’re my all dreams bundled into one, my opposite, my piece of the puzzle, my favorite melody, my infinite addiction
I can’t live without you
A day that goes by without you is another breath stolen from my lungs but what can I do because you’re not even real
Like Pygmalion, I’ve fallen in love with my own mind’s tortured creation and now I can love no one but you
I can stare at no one but you, and when the night falls, I can go to no one but you
To Orsino, how can you say women can’t love like men?
I’ve fallen in love with a woman and now I’m dead.
September 25, 2018
MESSAGES ( PT One )
A Poem by Debbie_Philly
THE MESSAGE
The room is black,
except for the faint glare of the TV in the background,
something to make me feel safe in some small way.
Hints of noise to drown out the silence--
such deafening silence, though not from within,
there's always noise within.
It's the kind of noise that keeps one awake
until early dawn.
No-- it's not the sound of the bathroom faucet running,
that would be a more pleasant sound--
(but what to do about that running.)
I slip into unconsciousness,
an unintentional state of suspended animation ,
very welcomed-- despite my objections.
Now the play begins.
The unfolding of the conscious mind.
What hides behind is much more revealing,
the actors are stacked and the story is unfolding.
Help in the telling comes from a unique source,
buried deep in the mind?
Maybe?
I believe it to be much more spiritual in nature,
supernatural in it's feel.
Lucid are the colors, real are the people.
They come from places unknown yet familiar.
Some I know by name,
some I love-- they are missed beyond words.
They come with cryptic messages,
with stories of treachery, lies and deceit ,
mapped out in vivid imagery of objects--
with meanings that I am not sure of.
I would dismiss these things if...
it were not for the repeated fashion
of how they were told.
An object here, a relic there,
I don't understand the meaning of it all, at first.
Are these apparitions conceptualized by own mind?
NO! I know these dear ones,
they love me, still-- even though
they no longer roam with the living.
There are too many signs to digest.
I wait for morning.
Sometimes I awake with a jolt,
(always remembering what I dreamed
in the haze of the pitch black night.)
I piece the puzzle together-- bit by bit,
I must decipher through the cobwebs
of the mind with some clarity; a daunting but amusing task.
I will heed these warnings,
warnings that come to me in dreams-- and beyond.
I Plan to embrace solidarity--
leave behind the flapping of malicious lips;
cling to the gifts bestowed upon me
through the handing off of the torch,
which once shined so brightly
in my loved ones soul.
I will stay awake--
be aware of my surroundings,
yet step over the boundaries
I have set for myself.
Meditate in solace
while letting my essence flow through my pen
onto white journal pages
that waits for me...
on my desk.
By: Deborah Mills-Kelly
I've seen what trauma does, I know how hard it hits. Every one I know who has it, knows it doesn't quit.
I've been in the darkness, where I felt like a waste of space. When I went into a crowd. I would put a mask on my face.
I never spoke about how i felt, when I did I felt I complained to much. I'd hold it in and explode, because the pressure would build up.
I've been through hell, and I still survive. Because I can't let pain, take my life
Now you will struggle, you must do your best, all that trauma, is your test
If you fail, you'll never see, all the wonderful things, that you can be
Now we all go through hardships, and I know its hard, its all the same deck, we just have different cards.
Now there is people who love you, I am one of them. I will always be by your side, I'll always be your friend
I have issues, that I've never really said, all this imagery, flowing through my head.
I always have been missing, the one I call my dad, now I really need a father, that I always dreamed I had.
Life is sure not perfect, It was hard for me to learn. I still have the scars on my heart, from every time it burned.
I grew up with my aunt, I never had my mom, I also grew up thinking, I did some thing wrong.
I do not blame my mother, because it as was all my dad, when she came to see us, he treated her so bad.
I also lived with my uncle, who came and left again, fighting an addiction. A fight he never wins.
I was taken from my family, and put in foster care. I hated everything. I always said it was not fair.
I had my demons, I battled every day, I always jumped a hurdle, but they got bigger along the way.
I struggled with my self. I knew that I was gay, but I hated my self for it, I was told its not okay.
I always tried to fit in, but it was nothing but trouble. Every piece I tried, never fit the puzzle.
I never was comfortable, with who I was within, depending on who was there, I tried on different skin
I've been crossed, and ive had a beating, but through it all, here I am still breathing.
I've Told you this story,hoping that it helped you, I want you to know , you can always break through.
Now for the closer, i wake up every day, and just before I go to bed, I pray that your okay.
What doesn't kill you, will make you stronger, once you keep that in mind, you will pain no longer
Broken...shattered...and scattered...these are the pieces to my life. A puzzle with no picture to look back on. Fragments of memories that form a story...A story that has long ended...As I lay on what is to be my bed I stare at the ceiling, and can only imagine what will come next. I try to close my eyes for a moment of peace, but my head is like a jackhammer on the streets of New York City...So much NOISE! WILL IT EVER END?! I'm sorry...I did not mean to blow up like that...Sometimes I wonder if I am the hero...or I am the villian. Do I make people smile, or do I make people frown? Although Robin Hood was both villian and hero, but Robin Hood was doing a bad thing for a right reason. Agh! Why am I cursed to be so numb! I can only feel the hatred I have for myself! Curse the people who created this monster...I have hurt so many, but I am the one who is hurt most. I apologize again...I am rambling nonsense. I just hate how everyday it is the same thing. The same people, the same school, the same job, and when you move on...It is the same. Same people new faces. The world is a boring place....If I was to "live life to the fullest" sooner or later life to the fullest will also become boring. Now that is saying I survive all that I do. In a way the world is also broken. The world is divided...Race...Gender...Politics...Religion. Always fighting for something... As I lay on my bed, and look through the window to see the blue sky, and cotton candy clouds I can't even raise a smile. I raise my hand up to reach for the sky, but I pull back. The world is never going to change...You are the one who has to change. You have to be the one to complete the puzzle. You can be the one to overcome all of the obstacles in your path. You are the one to glue the broken pieces, but once you have fallen into the dark pit of depression it's hard to get out. It is a fighting stuggle just to climb up...If you are alone...the fight is more like a war. Not only do you lose the will to fight, but also your sanity. It amazes me how I have not completely lost my mind. Although as the time progresses...I fear the worst for my humanity...I have tried fighting for so long...I CAN'T DO IT ANYMORE! WHO EVEN AM I ANYMORE? THE SOUND OF THE DRUMS BEATS HEAVY IN MY HEAD! I CAN NOT STAND THIS PAIN ANYMORE! I AM NOT A TOY YOU CAN FIX! I am broken...shattered....and scattered...
The future will bring unexpected things,
A woeful tragedy our heart to sting,
And though our plans be laid so well,
A power, from where we cannot tell,
Moves, or turns circumstance around,
Here giving joy there bringing a frown.
An insignificant spark, a slippery spot,
An induced germ, a misplaced dot,
Can turn someone; a group, a horde,
To bring about peace or bare the sword.
What say ye then, my wise friend you;
Is it blind fate and a little luck too:
Some random power to tip the scale,
And bring forth heaven or show us hell?
Concerning the puzzle of seeming happenstance,
Can you of the future perceive a glance?
Has it reason or design at all,
Can man influence how 'fate' must fall?
How helpless then we tend to be,
If we be pawns in a random sea,
Where utmost effort is brought to naught,
A battle comes that would not be fought,
And all this turns on the merest flick,
Of someone's seeming uneventful trick.
Who can approve such an absurd display,
Of struggling mankind's effort made,
And undone by a change of wind,
The toss and turn of chance to send?
I will not accept such an odd charade
Of appearance too early or too late,
Of a random force that turns my way,
Into some strange and awkward play.
I choose a design of great import,
A meaningful kind, of a rational sort:
With a purpose far above the crush
Of humanity's desire filled headlong rush.
An intent supreme,of a virtuous kind,
With purer motive and reasoned mind;
To set things right and bring an end,
Far more desirable than chance can pen.
To vindicate the cause of all,
The pain, the strife, the rise and fall,
Of man's travail from then til now;
Though to prove it to you, I know not how.
Please bear with me and consider this,
Lest some good purpose we should miss,
Could the answer be thus simply stated:
"By Him and for Him they were created"?
The purpose of creation and the Adamic fall,
Could glory for Christ be the reason after all?
More magnificent a claim cannot be made.
No more noble reason for existence laid,
Than for my existence to be,
To glorify the one who is most Holy.
The Spirit written text does make the call,
Of one Lord supremely over all,
With a secondary purpose in mind,
Of a merciful and a redeeming kind.
All wrapped up in this purpose too,
Could be salvation for me and you.
I ask you now, does this ring true,
Creation made and with good purpose too?
Bob, the cat, lives in the room number 13 of the sixth avenue.
He likes fish, rollercoaster, ice cream cones and Sunday papers.
He's an artist. He's a painter. When people ask him about his latest work, he answers:
"I'm painting the meaning of life. I'm coloring it black, but my inner self keeps telling me it's green."
He has gothic way of seeing materials and articles.
He wishes everyone to speak in fragments of literary lyrics, and then he would spend all his days tangling these fragments making an abstract form out of a puzzle.
He goes for a walk before breakfast; walking on two legs, wearing a leather jacket, and whistling after big ass women are his forte.
He passes Mr. Pumpkin floral shop, turns into the eighth avenue, and enters his favorite café called "Your Favorite Café".
He sits on the second chair at the second table, and orders a coffee:
"Black, dark and bitter like a cat's soul", he says to the waiter.
He sits there all morning, sipping his black coffee, dreaming about how it would be if his past, present and future selves exist together, thinking in sync, and communicating through a common medium of artistic sense, saying words in the silence notes of Van Gogh.
He dances all the way home. If anyone cares to ask, he says:
"I'm drunk in Coffea Arabica, a perfect weed to make you tantalize with Arabian dreams and gives your nerves a breakdown."
Dancing along the pavements, he counts the roses in beats.
One, two, three, four… two, two, three, four… three, two, three, four, and so on.
The number of roses is directly proportional to the number of steps he's gonna salsa in the bathroom.
He sits on the toilet bowl, and deciphers the problems with human rights.
He stands on one leg on the bathroom floor, with arms spread like hugging the air, mouth wide opens.
He squeaks like a mouse and tries to hop like a rabbit.
He falls hard, crashing the cold bathroom tiles.
He bleeds red like the color red.
He says "Perfect".
He runs into the bedroom. There stands his actual latest work, the heart of a vampire, portraying himself with a deadly cat fangs and a wicked mustache.
He splashes his blood all over the painting, and shouts "eureka".
He starts to hum Yankee Doodle through his nose.
He falls asleep, and dreams about dinner.
"Scramble eggs with tomatoes".
In the heart of the forest, where shadows creep,
Where whispers of darkness bind all in sleep,
A tale unfolds, of a much-feared witch,
With eyes like the void and a malevolent twitch.
By the edge of the village, where children dare not play,
The elders recall what the old tomes say:
"To catch a witch, you must be brave,
And venture where the lost souls wave."
Gather 'round, young hearts of night,
With flickering candles that hold back the fright,
Listen closely to the words that bind,
For the witch, dear friends, is not far behind.
First, find a mirror, cracked and worn,
Reflects all your fears, where shadows are born.
At midnight's stroke, let your courage ignite,
For it's said she appears, in the pale silver light.
Mix salt with the ashes from last summer's fire,
Sprinkle it gently, let courage inspire.
For witches are drawn by the scent of despair,
But salt binds the spirits, keeps evil aware.
Next, weave a wreath of thorny vines,
Crimson and tangled, with signs of the times.
Place it upon your door with care,
For only the foolish would dare to compare.
Gather some friends, with hearts full of thrill,
For the witch feasts on fear, on dread, and on chill.
Hold hands in a circle, chant low and slow,
"Come forth from the darkness, oh spirit of woe."
If the air turns thick, if the shadows conspire,
If the howl of the wind begins to grow higher,
Know that she's coming, you'll sense her near,
With a laugh that could chill even the bravest of deer.
But do not be frightened, stand firm, stand tall,
For you’ve called her forth, now heed to the call.
With courage entwined and a dappled fright,
Face the dark force with all of your might.
And if you should glimpse her, with warts and with claws,
With a grin sharp as knives and a rancid breath’s jaws,
Do not look away, hold your gaze steady and true,
For witches can vanish, if they see fear in you.
As dawn paints the sky with a whisper of gold,
Wrap her in silver, let her secrets unfold.
In shadows she lingers, but power you'll find,
For wits and the brave can leave her behind.
So, heed this advice, young hearts of the night,
For the witch is a puzzle wrapped tight in your fright.
With a mixture of courage and wisdom so bright,
You'll catch her but remember: never leave out the light.
-Look into your heart. What is its most ardent desire?
-I don’t know. I haven’t thought lately.
-You have neglected me. You have neglected your desires. You don’t know your heart…
-No, no I do better than any human does it know.
-I don’t believe I hear those words.
-Then, look into your heart. Through window that’s as clear as glass.
-Look and don’t hesitate.
-What is it that I see?
-Beasts, ghosts, and a faint glow that shines and dies.
-What is the glow?
-That’s not for me to tell you.
-Oh! My faith! I am miserable, a tarnished soul that knows not what is Best for it.
-Listen to me, and you will understand.
-No! No secrets! I am miserable enough.
-You shall feel better once I will this tell you.
-Am I so weak to yield to anything you say? No, I am pretty stout! Go Away, I do not want to hear
you any longer.
-I am as stout, even more perhaps.
-Do, do yield now. The secret is important.
-All right, I’ll yield and listen.
-Your life will end today.
-That’s all, for God’s sake?
-Yes, but I long to warn you still. Do not wait till midnight. Flee, as soon As legs will let you.
-You said I shall feel better. I don’t feel blessed, but only more in pain.
Leave me now, if it’s God’s will, if I die today. I’m not a coward. One Cannot escape from fate.
-You have defeated purpose of hand that had crafted such an end.
-What does this mean? My heart is ready for death and peace.
-No, death is not your bliss. You are too strong for death to overcome you.
-I am pleased. Now leave, for God’s sake, leave. You puzzle me- first one Thing, then another.
-All right, you will not die, but will a swamp of doubts swallow.
-Lie, lie, I do not trust you any longer.
-I still suggest you, run, for death is fast. Don’t trust my words completely, For I am testing your
character steadfast. Yet, once the curtain will come Down past the middle, and you are not
gone still, then it is fate that fell You will.
-You are, it seems, ambition in me boiling. But, yet, I still shall undefeated Stay. Go away, to the
abyss of hell, oh wicked spirit! Don’t tempt me into Deeds that any human soul may fear. Do
mind, I am not to superstition Inclined, and only half believe what you are saying.
-You are a strong man. Your request shall be now granted. And prophecy,
Now trust, it is not for you taste of. Farewell then!
Form:
It is a collection of 66 different books.
Each an important puzzle piece, just take a look.
God took a complete puzzle and tossed it in the air.
It fell down to the earth, scattering everywhere.
Most important piece is God himself
That most will ever see.
John 15:4 says "You must abide in Me!"
The book Genesis tells how all things begin.
While Revelation shows us what happens in the end.
Each piece or book will provide another clue.
Of why Creator and creature interacts the way they do.
In Genesis, book of beginnings chapter's one, two & three.
It tells how everyone and all things have come to be.
Next we find out in chapter two.
He gave birth to his children and told the oldest what to do.
Obey me He said and all will go well!
But the moment you disobey, life for you will be hell!
You'll trigger a cancerous disease from within!
It will corrupt your thought patterns and will be called Sin!
Though I already know everything you will do.
The right to make your own choices, must be granted to you.
I've placed a conscious in you, but right now it's asleep.
It will provide you guidance when disconnected from Me.
It will not bother you as long as you do right.
But when you're doing wrong, it will trouble you day & night.
I've created this paradise for you my children today.
Obey my house rules or I must send you away.
While you're out being your own god, far away from home.
I gave you a concept called "Prayer" to be your cell phone.
I am "Truth!" and therefore unable to lie.
Disobedience severs our spiritual cord and your spirit will die.
You'll live by 5 senses of the flesh unfortunately,
And your offspring will loose all awareness of Me.
You'll curse humanity until the end of Days!
You'll hate, kill, and suffer for not doing as I say.
Because I gave a perfect man the order to obey.
Only the death of another perfect man can take it away.
Once your bloodline becomes infected with the cancer of sin.
You'll reproduce defects only, but out of love, I'll step in.
I'll put on an 'Earth Suit!" come down from my Throne.
Die with your curse inside Me, so you can return home!
The whole time you're on earth, you will have problems there.
I'll send Angelic help, when you call me through prayer.
You'll know it's me carrying my life saving plans.
When you hear code word "Jesus!" The Savior of man!