Long Razored Poems
Long Razored Poems. Below are the most popular long Razored by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Razored poems by poem length and keyword.
Is there a place in heaven
Where old deckies muster
A sheltered safe haven away
From any wild storm's bluster
From sail to steam to diesel
United one and all
By the harvesting of the sea
And the handling of the trawl.
Do the different generations
Mingle to chat about the life
United by the fishing and
The razored gutting knife
Do the three day millionaires
In their bell bottomed trews
Their slim Jim ties
Their brothel creeper shoes
Mix with the fishermen
Of all the fishing nations
Is it an easy mix of
Fishing's generations.
Do they observe a silence
When the latest vessel sinks
Welcome new brothers with
Heavenly ambrosiac drinks.
Is their a deckies heaven
For those who paid the cost
For those quiet heroes counted
Amongst fishing's lives lost.
Do they gather in their thousands
To chew the fat about it all
Do they relive their memories
Of the following of the trawl.
Is there a place in heaven
Where old deckies muster
A sheltered safe haven away
From any wild storm's bluster
My girl is wild, she’s a rock-star’s child.
She lives in secrets I’ll never understand.
She can’t be defined; she never makes plans.
Drawn into my world, there’s no escape from her destination. She revels in the dark of my experimentation. My obsession with killing she finds thrilling. My life’s is destruction, anything to make me feel. She is a suicidal mentor, still searching for something real.
She hijacks my dreams; she whispers dangerous things. Her words seeping into my veins.
She takes her pleasures with whom she likes,
Her fate dancing on a razored knife.
She smokes cigars from Cuba, I taste the fire when we kiss. She smells of Cohiba, an intoxicating bliss. All eyes are on her when we enter a room, She’s flamboyant, enchanting, she has a flair, for dressing up doom.
I watch her every move, wherever we go,
My dangerous muse, my beautiful shadow.
My girl is wild, she’s a rock-star’s child.
She lives in secrets I’ll never understand.
She can’t be defined; she never makes plans.
Her face imprinted deep in my brain —
A rock-star’s child gone insane.
You rise above me on your lofty pedestal
Cracking your razored whip
Ordering my possibilities
Leaving your intricate patterns on my back
Red lace adorns your masterpiece
I chip at the base of your column
Choosing for your mighty to fall
You are unaware of your teetering
Cracks adorn your insignificance
Your monument betrays you
True power lays waste to your beliefs
The bottom always determines what stays on top
Look into these eyes
See past your own disaster
My power resides within my compassion
I do not wish to rule your castle
Freedom lives beyond your gates
I was not born to be your enemy
Hate does not flow through these veins
Justice shall not be served by my blade
You instead scurry to the top of your rubble
Impale yourself with rusted sword
Fleeing your own salvation
You answer your ghosts
Delivered by you own injustice
No one left to mourn your passing
You believed you could go no lower
Unaware Hell would embrace you in serpent arms
After all you descended from your father
A fallen angel has no where else to fall
Verlena S. Walker's Slam Round 2 contest.
A silent figure stands on the edge of a cliff,
the wind is sharp, winter is in its heart.
Its thoughts are lost
in the sterile Point of Finality,
the hollow point of all…
The harshness of an indiscriminate sun.
Wind pierces the tumbling absent rhythm of clouds,
ruffles its black raven's cloak, like wings, fluttering.
Emerald eyes stare focused far
and wide the mind drifts into the distance…
Down below the long jagged rocks,
fathomless water turns churns darkly and disturbed.
Glancing along the razored edge
of the horizon, the figure beholds a rusted hulk,
a mechanical beast.
That once dug into this ephemeral earth,
a pale blue orb in the distance of black space.
A white, hot sphere burns cold
behind gunmetal clouds
along and on horizon wire…
Over waters turning, churning the surface
thoughts ponder the depth of Emerald Eyes narrow.
As the somber sky reflects
nothing but this figure upon stone…
As waves lap, crest,
come to rest where storms are born.
A figure stands alone…
Perceptions of the world around us,
are shaped by what we’ve lost or found in the
dusts of membrance, trusts of memberment
busts of everEssentialEssences
bodies of discernment
In every person, there’s a story
A deep, complex and vivid glory
Some see beauty, some see pain
The same landscape, yet not the same pane
We view the world through coloured glass
And some may see a rose,
others thorns en masse
of briared walls
of no escape, of the impasse,
razored maws agape
Perceptions can be joyful or bleak
A kaleidoscope, that’s ever unique
We love, we hate, we laugh, we cry
Our emotions, reflections that lie beneath,
ripples of watery eye, the deep rings
of being a being
Yet, if we could just take a step back
And see with the eyes of a love we lack
Our perceptions might just change
And the world could be transformed
in brilliant range,
back to a pleasing view the eye feasts to see
In the end, it’s all we’ve got
Our feelings, perceptions, and our own plot
of coordinate directions aloft
So, let us cherish and embrace
The beauty and the love,
with no trace of hate and have it all,
instead of the have nots
For when we see beyond ourselves
And feel the pain of someone else
Our perceptions broaden wide and far
And love can heal the deepest scars
So let us walk with open hearts
And see the beauty in all parts
For in this world of joy and strife
We all deserve to live a life-
Where love and kindness reign supreme
And hopes and dreams can always gleam
Let's shift our perceptions, just a bit
And make this world a brighter, better fit,
for a better place for dreams
An epic saga in words,deeds and song
Of a man who killed lions,& wore his hair long;
Samson,a Nazarite when this tale began
The Spirit of the Lord,fell upon him at Dan;
With just a jawbone,a spectacular killing he made
Freeing Judah and ruling for two decades;
But desire, was this Judge's downfall
A lover's wiles causing him to fall;
He revealed his secret,without due care
Delilah so quickly razored off his hair;
The Philstines bound him with bronzen rope
To God,Samson called out in hope,
And making his final heartfelt plea,
The temple fell down ,for all to see.
A re-post inspired by Shadow's contest
Sing this song of immortality
This rhythm of life lived in neuro fire
Feel the tone of deep oscillations
Taste the song on tongues divided!
The rise of empire
The building of the divine
The godhood of man at the base of creation
Crucified on crosses of iron,
Feeling electric columns of fire!
So sing this song of empire and redemption
Sing the righteous song of rage
Feeling the rhythm of ages
Immortality of wings
Rise this jade n gold filigreed crown
Grace this delicate stage
Sing!
This empire down
Watch the west the coming white
The empress of non & nothing begun
Watch the razored ravens take flight
Sing!
This empire down
This rhythm n rage of life as neurons fire
Crash this bloody ruined crown
Sing this song of immortality!
This!
The righteous song of rage
Feeling the rhythm of ages
Empire down!
Razored shards
Sharp metal gleam white covered in silvery chrome
hard long mean a razor blade brilliant and keen
Reflexive in thought slashing through fresh
It flashes a brilliant spark,
tracing arcs through the nightmares air
A twist of flash, digging of marrow
blade slides home
divides the meat from the bone
bring the crimson to heat
A razor reflects in seconds of fate an image flash feeling the aftermath
A Great refraction
Recollection is a collection of desolate images
strewn across lost boulevards,
as homes burn
discarded cars churn
the blade is cold hard long razored Keen
Reaction retraction of sight
the nano fire tracks the hard light
glancing off chrome brilliant, a spark
the division of flesh pouring
of crimson heat awash all in red
Razored shards of sharp metal
sliver gleam covered in bright chrome keen
He returned to his quite recent creation
Just to make check on the current situation.
Tigrons slid in from the plains to lie at their ease
Away from midday sun under those singing trees,
Stretching lazily leisurely showing razored claw
In unconscious reminder of nature in the raw.
The ko-ko-ko birds still made their daily run
Fast blonde flashes in that pulsing square sun;
The fleecy white clouds made the long grass wet
Releasing their loads on that very second preset.
The singing trees moved and swayed
In the breeze that quite gently played
And filled the air with their song
That played and replayed all day long.
And in their Eden Garden the Adam and the Eve,
Still naked in their ignorance, made him believe
That maybe this time this world could be free
From the bondage of that wild knowledge tree.
As the sky filled with that square white moon
The singing trees changed to their nocturnal tune
And under that gentle white light
This world slipped slowly into night.
He noted down his next time of review
And with a small sigh quickly withdrew.
Tear the Heart and Teach the Soul
Through all our lives we seek control
Darkness held at arms' length
Striving with our bitter strength
Forcing madness to submit to sense
To rein our Animus to governance
Though it resists, to try our will
Against its roil we set our minds
Lest we perceive what it divines
The razored truths it seeks and finds
The lessons it would give us still
That tear the heart and teach the soul.
Life eats life
As so it goes, without restraint
Necessity absorbs the spreading taint
That all must bear, the cost of life
Paid with death, born of strife
We are the ends of one another
As we destroy we must create
As we discover, much too late
Sister to Sister, Brother to Brother
This. The shared edge of the knife.