Long Rampaged Poems
Long Rampaged Poems. Below are the most popular long Rampaged by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rampaged poems by poem length and keyword.
"One Bad Apple"
Soft cool-aid breezed in
wielding her sharp peeler
skinning the first apple
Boss girl
begins.
Stewed apples
slowly eaten
swallowed, taken in
One way out.
Boss girl
begins.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
gvlm
"Raise Hell", Dorothy
https://youtu.be/cfKPobjPZSE
“She does not want the world
to tell her how to live her life.
She does not want the world
to put her into a category.
She will smile even when
not all is good with her.
She will believe
what should not be.
And she will dream wild!
She is a bird.
She just wants to fly
in the wide blue sky!”
Avijeet Das
“I am a strong girl
Someday I will win the world
Yes I will smile in the wrong time
I won't do what has to be done
Or what the world
supposes me to have done
I will just do what I want
Drop out from crowd
Pretend to fall where I don't
Smile even when not all is good
Believe what should not be
Dream wild
Look observe and not harm
Coz I just live
Let me live
Don't put me in a category
or a class
I am as light
as a glass
This world
this beautiful world
Oh how complex
has it been made by us
Just look at the bird
soaring in the blue sky
Does it even care
Does it even care?”
Suyasha Subedi
"My muse is my daughter
My strength is hers
My muse is my mother
Her strength is mine
My muse are my sisters
My strength is theirs
My muse is my soul
Our strength is eternal"
"I roared, I rampaged and I got bloody satisfaction".
Kill Bill
Excerpt, Script, Kill Bill 2
https://www.ivanachubbuck.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Kill-Bill-2-Bill-Bride.pdf
artist/artwork: Rose Freymuth-Frazier
"One Bad Apple".
https://www.freymuth-frazier.com/
Amidst the treasures of beauty that one can ever witness,
I was leisurely enjoying an exotic cuisine in evening's tranquillity.
A mystical forest it was, covered with magical trees
that blossomed crystal flowers flashing colorful neon lights
and gilded leaves playing a divine music swaying in the breeze.
Cascades of flowing glittery gums secreted from the silvery barks,
forming a pool in the middle that was softly burning with
ruby embers while it emitted heavenly surge of scent.
I was sitting on a grand table and chair abstractly designed
with rainbow moonstone; adorned with glowing moss.
Meal on crockery made of shells was served by spellbinding nymphs
as they joined me not to eat but to feed me with their tender hands.
It was a bursting riot of tasty food that rampaged my tongue
with wanting more and I couldn't stop until my heart was pleased.
I took a sip of invigorating mocktail made of mint, dew and nectar.
Cheers to me! I uttered with sheer joy as it quenched my thirst forever.
And splash, splotches of tap water drenched my clothes,
my hands raised in the air with an empty cheap glass
as the bubble of my daydream bursts in a notoriously shameful way.
In an ugly small eatery, sitting on a broken dirty table crowded with
more people than a bus can hold, staring at me with their raging glares
as if they want to kill me because the cheered up splash of my drink
not only drenched me but also spoiled mine and their hard earned food.
What can I say...quite a costly little daydream it was.
Date: 01/18/2016
Note: The daydream is real but the incident is fictitious.
Entered in two different contests:
A lovely little daydream by Mystic Rose - *Placed Sixth*
Alternative festive season by Kai Michael Neumann - *Placed Fifth*
Our amazing age has been called both uncertain and troublesome,
and with all the advances and discoveries,
many still refuse to believe that God exists;
gold is avariciously kept by the wealthy, not released to feed anyone!
They march to a warfare beat, to invade, to defeat and mercilessly loot;
and will their militia be strong enough to hold back the armies
of the glorious Christ appearing in the noon's golden clouds?
All the prophesies came to pass, and this one will, too!
The destructive forces, not yet known to Man's blurred mind,
can desolate entire cities and destroy disobedient Nations;
the Black Death that rampaged and terrified Europe can't be compared to this!
But to cause confusion and death, the Anti-Christ must usurp and fight!
What greater pangs are more real than the ones to come in the latter days?
The life-giving sun will sink into the depths of the inscrutable Universe,
and the lovely stars will not appear at night;
that total darkness will induce immense fright!
The prophecies that have come to pass...were completely ignored,
and others more frightful are unfolding before these very eyes;
how long can we not discern their real message and realize
that every Biblical event was foretold by the prophets of old!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
When Light needed a body to behold, and color to kiss,
as Darkness dreamnt to die in the dawn of depth,
when Soul lustered to lust for learning, and being learned,
as blood bespoke to bones for building a star of flesh,
when Time needed the umbrage of it's ubiquity to be understood,
the moment texture tempted touch to tease with a thousand sensations,
when laws of love sought a language to express the extremes of it's lips,
as romance rampaged through the ravishings of famished hearts,
when the seduction of sorrow made heros of loving men and women,
When Justice appealed to the instincts of intent for inscriptions of innocence,
as bravery found battle in basic questions of survival and conquest,
when war demanded a metaphor in the terror of it's diligent destruction,
as Faith found resolve in seconds small along with giant gestures,
Death singing melancholy for sympathy and Life haughty upon it's horizon,
when Angels chose to wear albatross of gold to feel the rue of rogues,
as the most perfect woman ambushed the ideals of rumored beauty,
when God wanted imagination to create immaculate reality
Poetry began, born in the instant of forever Art,
because, the only promise of a Poet, is Passion -
Dedicated to Poetry...J.A.B.
Most of us are too quick to judge
not knowing anything about a person,
and distrust is the outcome of ignorance
capable of setting us apart from civilization;
first gather the facts, not useless rage,
and the belief that anyone can change
draws ourselves to a truth so unknown...
Hear all the words they speak, use intuition;
do they convince you to continue listening,
or throw you off with idignation?
If that voice sounds too unconvincing,
and can't confirm the answers you're expecting,
come up with questions that are pungent:
transforming those ideas with a thought,
and always believe that anyone can change...
Empires have risen, giving the obsolute power
to fearless men who were made into legends;
some were deserving, but most were tyrants of unclemency,
and did shameful and cruel deeds:
torturing or killing anybody who used to dare;
are we learning something from History?
When Attila the Hun rampaged Italy,
Leo the Great...the courageous Pope,
persuaded the savage king
not to sack the city of Rome;
and he also believed anyone could change:
that any heart, with all its brutality and rage,
could replace its rampant fury and grim
with human compassion and mercy...
Like cold marble statues
stiff as vague mixtures
of alcohol that stings of spirits,
cheap as famished souls.
Once were unique and proud,
now the vanishing isles!
A struggle to keep adrift
to face the blue sky vast
and unyielding, matching
that deep Pacific Ocean.
Hear us now gagging on
driftwood and rising waters.
Peaceful seas of dreams
where dancing bonitos circle
canoes,surfing freely cruising
with yellow fins in oceans of fun.
Now hear chokes of sinking feelings
and sirens lamenting restless souls.
As sea sprays watered eyes in contrition
someone changed the climate in Iceland
and desert storms rampaged our islands.
Rumblings of constipated volcanoes
longing for release but now stifled by
solar shields torn by man's greed.
As I float amongst the beaches of ghostly
Polynesian islands, the reefs cry out in
protest as navigation comes full circle,
back to 'hawaiki' our 'once was seen'
home of origin, a failed quest reiterating
the original theme of a people that "once
upon a time" existed now once again
A no man's islands.
The oracle leaps through no ruinous time…
Benjamin was the boldest of the four. And whether the four were
The Sons of Peace, or the Fathers of Pride, or the Sisters of Charlies,
Or the Mothers of all Milk Maids, a place to hide he would not find.
Benjamin and the Three rampaged through enemy gates.
But everyone had left. For the big River Festival.
Shame overcame the Three. Benjamin walked to the River.
Fear of the future is in it’s inevitability.
And the idea that it’s not coming at you, rather you
Are walking into it like a quiet immersion into cool water.
The festival was heard before it was seen,
Tangerine strings, frog choirs, and drum barrels
Filled the night. When Benjamin popped his head over the hill,
His nose was met with a croissant held by a mouse
Who introduced himself as mayor.
“The oracle leaps through no ruinous time,” said the mouse
As he walked with Benjamin towards the evening candle
Boats where the water got black and full of mystery.
Scottish crofters from Wallace's time,
trying to make a living of the land
committing not any crime.
With God’s grace and will to raise
a family keeping it simple, yet nothing
was going to be “run of the mill”
An English King, a tyrant so ruthless and
willing to invade. Reasoning was futile
it was impossible to persuade.
He rampaged with vast army's,
taking away the Scotsman's “freedom”
What is a life if you are not free
to roam the place you call home.
Sir William Wallace made a choice,
He stood up to be Scotland's voice.
Shining in courage strong for our
God given right “our freedom”
Wallace became the people’s champion,
put upon a pedestal, so he honoured
this with his battle skills.
With great courage and gifted in the
art of war. He defeated the English
upon the battle field, with his almighty
clamour sword.
Through the English army's impetuous
foresight. Wallace stood and watched
blood soaked as the remaining sasinacks
took flight.
Form:
Like wild buccaneers
on a partying raid,
they came ashore.
Fierce waters and winds
wielding their destructive swords
grabbing defenceless trees by the necks:
viciously shaking their hair-like foliage heads;
bending their backs; snatching them up
and throwing them here and there.
With torrential forces,
the marauding buccaneering
waters and winds leveled mortared
and boarded constructions
as if they were thatched huts of shade.
Young and old beings
became like unripe and ripened fruits
consumed by the ravaging forces of nature.
Behind, lay skeletal fields and sandy shores
laden with rampaged debris.
Satisfied with the fun and booty,
the buccaneering twins
return to their seafaring sails
in search of more up roaring.
Meanwhile, the prodigal Sun returns,
reflecting dry salty tears
pasted on the faces of those
who must now iron out their wrinkled lives.
In the aftermath, Nature makes no apologies
and God can’t be cursed.
Cats go out then cry to come in.
A runt-end of shade wilts.
We feel the pull of a Lunar tide,
sense the off-center mewing,
of a dissonant aria.
Trembling dogs hide their body-bones.
The air is strained through fisheyes.
A clammy light gnaws,
while white-faced mice scurry
on twilit paws.
There will be an end of sorts,
a draining away. First, there must be,
this ailing after-glow,
an infiltration that wounds
the tender skin of reason.
A mad moon had broken lose,
from the cellular jails of fitful thoughts.
A dead Siren rampaged,
in a cold rage of silence.
The day may heal, a new dawn,
defeating all spectral trails,
all night-walking fears.
Until then we must watch
a pall-bearing dusk
depart on crumbling stilts,
observe from a dwindling distance,
a naked crone wanes,
turns in ever narrowing circles,
as she seeks for her life.