Long Rampant Poems
Long Rampant Poems. Below are the most popular long Rampant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rampant poems by poem length and keyword.
Humanity must hustle mach schnell -
At warp speed to stave off
further global catastrophe
courtesy portentous tragedy
loosed within Australia
think Pandora's box
harbinger spelling dystopia
across webbed wide world
avast holocaust cremating
irrevocable and irreversible
innocent species, now urgency
of humankind to reckon
eyes crisis endangering all
flora and fauna including
bipedal hominid *****sapiens,
whose burgeoning population
demands global bailiwick
the responsible province
of most cutthroat species
berserk beast running rampant
and roughshod furiously
indiscriminately slashing
and burning swaths of fragile
ecosystems ramping up climate
change i.e. global warming,
whose critical tipping point
of no return brink will witness
quantum leaps, whereby
ecological apocalypse promises
inhospitable planet Earth,
whereby simian stewards
severely shirked responsibilities
exploiting, polluting
trumpeting no holds barred policy
to plunder, pillage and rape
once bountiful zoological,
and avast botanical edenic grove
comprising extensive panoply
populating every nook and cranny
transforming once upon time utopia
unsightly, insufferable and
apocalyptic hazardous wasteland
habitats additionally threatened
linkedin with ruthlessness
amidst/amongst violence prone
primates peopling planet Earth.
World is ours because it's of God
God is ours or we are of God ?
It's not ours because it's of God
God is not ours or we are not of God ?
God loves all so is ours
Surely, we don't love ourselves
see from our actions
in this world
am feel am and may be to are
to a limited extent
our budgets even of expectation
lies in rampant
Perhaps, we are missing love
of the world
love, love, love only love
this wonderful world
For contest:
Sponsored by: P.D.
Intrinsic…
like a bird’s wing soaring on whispered winds of sun stroked air
across our bare skin light beams dance into the coming night,
a radiant delight of coloured rays blaze forth between spaces
and embraces the elegant touch of discovered elements there
as though light’s flare has enchanted this moment.
A seed of nature plants its spores beneath our flesh to our bone
unknown of its own energy gushing through our veins,
like the grains of sand soaking up the awesome sea we stand planted
in the open land of love below and above we are creations,
mutations of the very life that saturates our soul’s light…
we invite in the essence of everything.
Surfaced senses feel the ardent glow of nature’s fingertips,
willing our smiles to eclipse their poised shape
as this landscape of free decree has flowered in time.
Behind our minds the mountain rises in all its splendor…
a rendered vision without gender they are alive
and as we too they survive by the spirit or sunlight and rain
a plight to behold of extending miracles twinkling gold.
Intervening our divulged beings you splash between
as a gaping gash of rampant illumination ignites the sky
I am high…
as wild existence has no means to lie
Intrinsic…
Undiluted, instinctively we find the juice of life’s fruit flowing,
growing shapes of stars stretched across our shades of gray
as we stand slain for this moment by paradise’s vice
living within a diving clash of endless possibilities…
here…we are set free.
Mad magic meanders through and around our limbs
like a whim to be as one above the ground beneath our feet
as sun’s heat evades the breaking twilight
a trickle of extraordinary white wraps up our pose
and we transpose from the humans of what we’re known
to the resplendence born in our souls.
Through the telescope
We view the planet Mars
Explosions aplenty
Leaving planetary scars
Two nights pass
As comets appear
All over the world
Do we panic or fear
The very next morning
Cylinders are found
Metallic and shiny
Making a humming sound
An unscrewing grind
These cylinders emit
As the public witness
In staring commit
Slowly rises
A staring eye
Emerald green
Us it spies
As we approach
It climbs so high
Staring back at us
In a shrill like cry
Oooolaa is heard
Many times
As we stand back and watch
In it's perfect rhyme
We approach again
As it's emerald eye lights
A ray is released
We all start to take flight
Over the common we run
As fast as we can
With laser traces
Extinguishing man
Days pass
As more cylinders land
But these newly fallen
Are bigger and grand
In tripod stance
They roam our lands
Lasers in rampant
As our armies stand
What weapons we have
Are vapourised to dust
As a red weed engulfs
In a thickly disgust
Beaten and trodden
Against these machines
Will the spirit of man
Endure this hell Halloween
We who are left
Are driven underground
To escape their lasers
And their oooolaa sound
Many weeks pass
As our cities are scarred
But the blooming red mass
Is blackening tarred
Tripods are toppling
In crying moan
Their sound as they fire
Is in deathly groan
Metallic corpses
Of cylinder shape
Lie dented and spent
On broken buildings they drape
Weeks into months
As the scientists learn
These martians from Mars
In our atmosphere turn
Their alien form
Unknown to them
Would never compete
With the life of men
Our oxygen climate
Pure and clean
Was a perfect match
For these cylindrical machines
We will remember these days
This world, our home
As we look to the skies
Knowing we are not alone
Inspired by " The War of the Worlds " movies.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-6.php
HANSEL AND GRETHEL*—A FRACTURED FAIRY TALE
Poem written for and submitted to “The Seed of Fear Poetry Contest,” Jami Patterson, sponsor, August 5, 2025.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the great city where towers scraped the sky,
lived an accountant with taxes too high.
His fingers trembled over empty ledgers,
scary times calling for drastic measures.
No longer in democracy did his country embrace
personal freedoms left without a trace.
The economy did falter
most everyone, including him, lived in squaller.
His wife sighed, "Oh, what shall we do?
Our cupboards are bare, our dreams bid adieu.
No bread to share and not enough food
for Hansel, Grethel, you, and me. We’re screwed!”
“There's a camp on city’s outskirts,” he did say,
"where the broken, lost, and weary can stay.
There we can live free on government aid.
So, dear wife, not to worry, for everything will be paid!"
“We can’t go there!” she said, her voice filled with dread.
"We shall not seek where the lost souls are led,
in a camp where the government with us its taxes has bled
offering breadcrumbs to our children instead."
Hansel, with his innocence, clutched his mother’s skirt.
Grethel, with wide eyes and a sweet voice, filled the air with mirth.
But with heavy hearts, they packed up their toys and possessions~
no more yearnings, no more hunger or worries, only depression.
The night was beastly cold, hope worn thin.
The stars watched Hansel and Grethel’s struggles begin.
The camp, a frightening place, was filled with sorrow,
no more dreams of a bright, better tomorrow.
Personal freedom was bartered for fear;
drugs and violence were always near.
Curfews, rampant theft, socialism, and criminal infestation
took hold in our once great nation-now the land of desperation
*Note: "Hansel and Grethel is a German fairy tale collected by the Brothers Grimm and published in 1812. It tells the story of two siblings who are abandoned in a forest by their stepmother and encounter a witch who lives in a house of candy." (Wikipedia.com)
Rampant rain is ruining
lushness of my lawn.
Helpless I watch
strands of green drown
in shallow puddles.
Swamp like state creates
slush and sludge -
I remain stuck in the mud.
Wondering who will care
for my garden when
I am no more.
What will become of my roses?
Will my dahlia delight in the sun?
Or will I become a forget me not?
However...
I remain content,
knowing erratic elements,
will never kill my words.
Spiteful winds will return crying
bitter raindrops to my musings.
Then they will disappear,
just like me - just like you.
Yet in the silence of death -
written words will forever remain.
If I should discover that mysterious genie bottle by any chance,
And was granted three wishes that my existence they might enhance,
It would be very tempting to wish for fame and all the world's pelf!
But, such an opportunity would require that I look well beyond myself!
I would wish for PERMANENT PEACE in this troubled sphere.
That Freedom's Bell would peal out its joyous news for all to hear!
That tyranny would be trampled and that those who foment strife,
Would simply leave other folks in peace to pursue the abundant life!
I would wish for the elimination of all HUNGER and DISEASE,
And that pain and suffering, with heartfelt compassion could ease.
That rampant homelessness and despair would forever cease,
And that brotherhood and concern for others would increase!
I would wish for INTEGRITY in government beginning with our own.
That governments in all nations and at all levels would set the tone!
That world-leaders would heed the Prophet Isaiah's sage injunction,
To seriously reason together - perhaps the world would better function!
The likelihood of this mere mortal being faced with such a decision,
Is rather slim and an awesome responsibility that I cannot envision!
But would not one be rather remiss to skirt such an opportunity,
To better the lives of His people and the worldwide community?
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Honorable Mention in Amy Green's If I Could Have 3 Wishes Contest
What morning mysteriously unfolds is
the rugged cliffs that kept away men
in silver armor; they were those impregnable fortresses
that massive armies tried to conquer with archaic intellect.
And the fury of the roaring sea, steadfast and cruel,
was their threat, but seagulls were the guardians
when their ships surged from the clashing waves;
the conquerors did not see a knight with vigilant eye.
After the fall of The Empire Of False Gods,*
any land could be taken for possession;
the sturdy boundaries built with stones
no longer existed, fear was too rampant.
The fortresses that still stand are a reminiscence
of battles echoing with clanking swords and violent roars;
I can hear them by reconnecting to the distant past.
On this cliff of ancient grey stones, I lay down staring at clouds,
but the absence of green trees offers no shade, nowhere to hide;
only the comfort from the Nordic cool wind that anticipates winter.
What I behold now, will soon vanish into the thick mist of twilight;
awesome sunset looking over the beautiful shore, remain a while...
let me admire the exuberant beauty of this passing day: I may
die tomorrow without having beheld the painting you've created!
* The Empire Of False Gods: Rome
Another One Down
And another one bites the dust.
Marriage.
My friend, my neighbor, the lady next door,
Rampant miscalculations of being too nice,
two people that complain, endlessly.
She does not do enough.
I have not had “any” in weeks.
I work all the time.
What do I show for it?
When do I get my due?
These are the words,
That he would spew.
She did the dishes,
She worked two jobs,
She got the kids to school,
What a fool…
She made dinners,
and kept appointments,
made small talk with your mom,
who hates her.
Yet… She does (did) not do enough.
I wanted, need(ed) more.
I wanted my feet rubbed, twice each night.
I wanted someone to bring my dinner in the chair.
When my plate is empty, I want more…
I want her to fill it,
and every need,
that I can think of,
until,
I feel…
loved,
enough.
I am “first” not last, I am the husband.
I am the King of everything.
I sit alone in my new apartment.
“Why… is she mad at me?”
Red roses bleed...you just can not see it...
Stubbs Park is decorously rampant,
its paths scamper here and there
like unruly children.
Perhaps its topographical language
once spoke of bridges
for the landscapers have run riot
planting arching spans
between and over
many of its hillocks and humps.
If you are in meditative mood,
these diminutive bridges
can lead you away and home again
in the compact unwinding
of a few gardened acres.
The catwalks of Stubbs park
can connect you to gaps in your life
as yet uncrossed for want of a bridge,
they can lead you astray also
until you figure out the right questions
to ask of yourself,
or perhaps more to the point
they can leisurely pass over
some idle hours
between breakfast and lunch.