Long Raided Poems

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


Premium Member Moulinette Rouge

the sanguine pumpkin blended a cautionary tale in anticipation

whipped a bit of cream and cinnamon essence into the mix and 

disguised her devious trickery with the fragrant candle of death


vampires camouflaged as a venture-capitalists hung on to the skin

counted their rewards with sweet diabolical fangs and squashed

any sense of trickery as pulp met fiction and friction for treats


modern day pagans opened their home but clutched their wallets

‘direct debit and credit cards only’ they tried their best to hold on

to what they cherished most and offered a few stale Easter Eggs


Christmas approached fast and the blood of Christ in the manger

played trickery on paralyzed children in need of candy and hope

which had become alien concepts wrapped in greed and deceit


a Pied Piper was so small thought that he crept through the door

slipped by and raided the safe box hidden in the Scrooge’s pantry

feasting on silver shillings and dirty bills of all denominations 


‘Fallow Sheen’ he shouted and recited from the Halloween Bible

in which transparency was so obvious one could see the Lord

dressed in an abduction of meaning draped around halo and loins


the Moulinette put on lip stick mascara and rouge to save her blushes

sharpened its blades and crushed Faustian pact made in seasonal hell


18th October 2020

Halloween Contest

Sponsor Emile Pinet


Apologize For Slavery, Part Ii

...But the problem with apologies
is where exactly do we start?
The Aztecs took thousands of slaves,
and ‘praised their gods’ but cutting out hearts.
The Indians enslaved each other,
and settlers in the many wars,
but the Spanish enslaved them,
equal opportunity horror.
And the British enslaved the Irish,
three hundred thousand sent across seas,
often used when black slaves were not,
since they were comparably cheap.
The black slaves people had to buy
from squabbling African kings,
raided their foes for human cargo,
they profited off the damn thing!
China had slaves, and India too,
Ancient Romans, Egyptians, and Greece…
But of all these civilizations
which one set out to make it cease?

It wasn’t the great peoples of the past
that fought hard to end this great pain,
the western word drove slavery’s end,
no other cultures can make that claim.
Folks today have no perspective
of the evil we put in the dirt,
slavery was no exception,
it was long the norm on this earth.
And now, instead of celebrate
this huge and moral achievement,
we’re demonized because back then
we had not yet set the precedent?
We’re told we have to give folks cash,
that it is all ‘stolen money,’
when most of this country’s great wealth
was born in states where labor was free?
Look at the south and at the north
way back during the civil war,
the slave states starved in slow collapse,
the free state out-built them and more.
When less than two percent of folks
ever claimed that they owned a slave,
to blame us all is asinine,
dishonors those who died to save
the country from this age-old sin,
those who ought to try a new path,
and insults all those alive right now
who think slavery worth our wrath.
But if you still want apologies
look at every one close to you,
their ancestors were slave-owners,
and guess what? Yours owned them too.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Baby Boom In Mushroom Village

Mushroom village, population thirty-five.
Was perfect until Faerie Marie had quints.
Six happy faerie midwives flitted toward the hive.
They gobbled down all of Billy Faerie’s chocolate mints.

Mama Brownie went into labor an hour later.
Two of the midwives left the other four in charge,
They raided the Brownies’ refrigerator,
The biggest eater was the head midwife, Marge

The doctor was considered incompetent now.
As he had told them it was one baby, but it was actually three.
Those joyful midwives could not stop yelling “marvelous!” and “wow!”
I understood this as they handed one of the wee babes to me.

Mushroom Village’s siren went off at a quarter to four.
Extra midwives were recruited from elf town.
We were getting another baby to adore.
Joyful excitement was flowing all around.

People were being awakened all night long.
The whole village was abuzz and alive.
We were a united population, now baby-strong.
At 8 a.m. we repainted the village sign - Population 45.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Curse From Darkness

They came upon us in the light of day.
No weapons did they need, for dark of night
is what they brought. We still don’t know the way
they darkened all our skies. . . in broad daylight!
And after that, there came an awful blight.

All plants got a disease that turned them brown.
Plants are now just something from a longed-for past.
We feel sun's warmth, but in everlasting darkenss we drown.
We’ve raided grocery stores; food dwindled very fast,
and just how long can candles and simple flashlights last?

Some say the creatures came from under the ground,
while oithers say they came from outer space.
Large groups of us they never come around,
yet humankind has not been hard for them to erase.
Our friends are dying. Death abides in every place.

Sometimes my starving tribe would smell something cooking.
Had one of us been finding animals to eat?
Some of us had candles; we went looking.
Our search brought us the horror of ultimate defeat.
Another group of people had consumed our friends as meat!

The alien-like creatures knew us very well.
Cannibalism (not by the creatures) is what this all came to.
Such is the curse that upon us all befell.
Sick from filthy water, we’re down to just a few.
I leave this record of the dark deeds we’ve been brought to do.

(English Quintain allows ababb rhyme with no set number of syllables per line)
May 8, 2021
for Funom Makama's A Poem Of Horror Poetry Contest
Chose Title is #2: Curse From Darkness

Premium Member Spawning In Spring

In spring, salmon spawn in rivers, swimming upstream.
The male salmon (Cock), battle for the female,(Hen) of desire.
While the Cocks are fighting, the young silver males, (Jack), sneak into the female nest, taking his pick.


                                          Spawning in Spring

                                   In spring virile Cocks battle to win,
                                   The heart of a Hen, waiting for him
                                            But to his surprise
                                            A Jack in disguise 
                                   Raided her nest; went off fin in fin.




Date: Feb. 21, 2022
For: Spring in Air Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mohan Chutani
Grammar and Syllables verified on P.S. Counter/Checker
Placed 10th in contest
Form: Limerick


Bosperous

Bosporus


Bosporus 1956, the old tanker where I was a galley boy
had anchored waited for orders to proceed into the black sea.
A rowing boat came alongside they were selling fez
the latest fad among us seamen.
They also sold sweet liqueurs which I drank, got drunk and sick 
for the first time in my life; I was 15teen.
In the old days, you had to grow up fast and learn to howl with the dogs.
The winter weather was sunny I was awed by the Byzantine mystic
like a fairytale story. I bought the fez.
The last time I was in Istanbul -30 years later- on a ship where I was a cook.
my fall from officer grade had been painful and political.
in Istanbul going back to the ship I was followed by a back of dogs begging for food raided the galley 
they knew I was a generous cook
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Eafer Trolls

The Trolls of NeighCassier smiled
as they undermined.
They acted sweet and welcoming
:but they were mean and rude and
unkind.
The evaluated situations with
prowess and assortment and hust
they made enemies of the dwarfingdores
and smuggled there squashes and stuff.
There women acted like witches
there men were shy and mean
they raided fields in the evening
and at night
they'd wear twigs to be unseen.
Potatoes and zucchini were
field sweets
they'd take from the farmers fields.
They help themselves to the smoked fishes
that were smoked and cured on reels.
When the witches of Worsten 
thristed for love and drink
they dress as there lovers
and rub there faces with garlic
so they'd stink.
They'd consort to make evenings
where men would dance and sing.
They corner potential lovers
with potions and spells
and things.
One rubbed a toad on
a trolls lips and asked him to kiss him
beneath the wreath.later on in the evening
when he was drunken and sleep
they'd go on to the homestead
and smuggle his hogs
and sheep
Toadwart he'd awaken
and not remember a thing
to find his livestock
and treasures
were taken he
would think he was jinxed.
To stay weary of the demons
he'd tie Ruppler bark

around a string
to thew it in the yards
of the witches
to had lofted him
with not ah thing..
Curses: curses he stand
there yelling.
While witches
mused and laughed.
Cooking up the grub
acting whorish and fass.
He promised he'd be redeemed
and cursed them with
a spell.
Then he left them heartbroken.
And went where Sorcers dwell.
Form: Bio

Premium Member Vulpes Vulpes

In many colours I come and many places inhabit
when in South America crabs are my favourite
I chase them with great glee and delicately 
Their flesh pick out of their shells and pincers

Come to Africa, when I reside here I have bat ears
that swivel around as I listen for my prey
a tasty rabbit, a guinea fowl even just a mouse
I hide any excess and return to dine in leisure

When living in Russia I am silver in colour 
a thick pelt and bushy tail which I display
with such great pride to attract the vixens
then in a matter of weeks new cubs join me

England not quite so cool here the hunt
dogs baying for my blood as I am chased
uphill and down dale, cunningly I head downstream
then hide up in some trees, yes I can climb them

Arctic is where I the Alopex live with my tiny ears
to help me not to lose too much heat in the snowy Tundras
here I eat whatever I can even a fish when it's salmon run
with my vixen we share the raising of four to eleven cubs

Known world wide as cunning and sly, I am a survivor 
overcoming different adversities as they arise
Reynard is the name most men know and curse me by
especially if I have raided their chicken coops
Form: Narrative

Premium Member A New Species Only Known To Mum

With cavemen like grunts they extract themselves from their pit
Unable to communicate on a level you can understand …
spouting three letter syllables such as  ‘IDK’ and ‘meh’

Eyes red from lack of sleep, but what do they care 
Too much time playing on their computers and phones 
You worry they don’t interact with ‘real’ friends

Your fridge gets raided; milk is glugged and gulped
Cereals and bread disappear at an alarming rate
When you open your cupboards they are bare
 
The beast then stumbles into the bathroom
When they finally emerge you gag under a cloud of deodorant 

Try asking them a question about what time they will be home …
They react as if you are subjecting them to interrogation

This species is not uncommon – many of us have one in our house
TEENAGERS!

Received N/A in a  Contest finalised on 04/05/2016
submitted to second chance#3 sponsored by Broken wings
04~03~16

To Serve Is To Be Served

To serve you took an 
oath;
To lead in patriotism
And to shun nepotism.
To hold in esteem the 
nation
And give back with 
integrity its ration.

Like a leader being 
called 
To regard his people,
And tend to the cripple.

To serve with heart 
and might
Like our forebears 
fought for their identity.
To bring justice to the 
land
And shed not your 
people’s blood on its 
sand.

To serve with all your 
strength,
And stake your life in 
defense of its unity.

Those were the 
allegiance to father land
When our votes was a 
pass to glory
And our voices echoed 
for democracy.

Today our heroes 
mourn in their graves
Honest men languish in 
jail,
While criminals are 
granted bail.

Smokes of corruption 
rises from the chimney 
of pretence.
The rain of political 
looting falls from the 
sky of hate and greed.
The conflagration from 
the furnace of poverty-
Consumes men who are 
not party to dishonesty,
Callousness brings us 
buried in abyss.

Justice hides in the 
wigs of our judges
Like lice on a bushy 
hair-
Only to be shaved by 
the blunt clippers of 
deceit.
No wonder a blind 
folded man holds the 
scale of justice!

Far-called our soldiers 
in the land of death,
Combing the bushes 
and deserts in failing 
health,
Back home our 
politicians loot the 
nation’s wealth,
Subjecting us all to 
economic mess.

Now that we have been 
stylishly raided,
And the national 
honours adorned their 
publicly funded parlours
What is left for the 
masses-
Is the nausea from 
rotten corpses.
Hunger stare us in the 
eye,
Little children yearn to 
die-
Watching their mothers 
beg for crumbs to feed.

To serve is to be 
served,
All their allegiance to 
fatherland 
Hangs on the rafter of 
political sham.
Form: Verse

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