Long Rotting Poems
Long Rotting Poems. Below are the most popular long Rotting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rotting poems by poem length and keyword.
The Aspen quaked in mild calm.
A stream nearby sent riffled song.
This trail less trod now almost gone.
‘Twas barren once now grown quite long.
Around a bend and down a steep
therein the brush from somewhere deep
here mixed with woodland chirps and cheeps
slid sounds and sobs of sorrows weeps.
Out there somewhere in higher grass
beyond the tangled thorn tree sash
just past a swamp of slimy mash
a sorrowed soul seems has been cast.
A dragonfly in silence soars.
Below the flies held tight to beasts manure.
Through brush and briar where none before.
Slogging sludge-of-swamp to reach the shore.
Stopped at edge of stench thus endured.
Much closer now to sobs of sorrows lure.
On rotting log a mossy clump.
The spider gone in one quick jump.
A deer takes run with heavy thump
startling me too cause me slump.
Still not in sight – here not yet found,
‘top slippery rock I look around
o’re growth below that shows no ground.
When there – the source of sorrows sound.
Hidden mid some thick green fern.
With face in hands as if from burn.
His arms to knees as if to learn.
He did not look nor did he turn.
A lad of more-or-less of ten plus three
there sobbing softly I could see.
What sort of problem could it be?
Without words or look – ‘twas known to me.
A lie was told to cause unfold his sorrows pain.
Lies ‘seldom’ hold or cause of this contained.
More often Truth holds pain ordained.
Like most in world - I cared ‘not’ remain.
I turned around – I left him there
as few would do – else ‘lie’ of care.
Roads worn bare by lies are everywhere.
Trails of Truth – they wreak despair.
Now oft I wonder -- how did he fare.
Sorrows Lure
by: Shadow Seeker 2016 Copyright
4/27/17
Whether in the North, East, South, or West
On any side of the fence
Things can go from calm to intense
Near and far from incense
On a planet that is immense
Better always use common sense
While events continue to commence
Before and after the sun sets
It just may manifest
Realize next
That steps
Going towards the right or left
Just may lead to success
Or quite the mess
And failure at your own expense
Because all actions have consequence
With similar or different causes and effects
As light rays reflect
In and out of areas with low to high temps
Among colossal objects and mere specks
Above and within the depths
Close and beyond forests considered dense
Things used to try and eliminate pests
Non-toxic or harmful to pets
A hidden cache found filled with bayonets
Cartons of cigarettes
Piles of fishing nets
Old and new cassettes
Dressings mostly caesar, blue cheese and vinaigrettes
As well as cans of soup with letters of the alphabet
Underneath a trapdoor was a chest
Full of things one could not expect
More or less
Near some food that was rotting or still fresh
Had to hold your breath
Because of the stench
Let me sketch
You a picture so you can understand how it went
Down in the trench
With a wrench
And rope of hemp
People were fighting each other to the death
Or sitting on a bench
Had to always do my best
And put forth one hundred percent
Effort with my blood and sweat
In order to one up any threat
Coming at my neck
Or aiming towards the heart inside my chest
By: Dalton Ogletree
I like to be the hero in my dreams,
a seafaring captain steering my ship
to a new conquest with a beautiful woman
in every port. I like my dreams dancing
with movement and adventure.
I like to be the victor over opposing
forces, the savior of the weak,
I want to loot the riches of evil.
Damn it all, for being unable to control
the beast of sleep that pirates my
dreams away from its heroic feats
and the saving of beautiful women.
Why do the demons of dreams devour my flesh?
Those monsters gorging themselves
on my good dreams, leaving me spent,
suffocating in a hot river of sweat,
dimming my lucidity and making me see
my dreams from a prison of terror,
leaving my mind in a smoky glob,
thus making me a prisoner of madness.
They run me through fields of rotting flesh
and gleaming bones, naked corpses
with staring eyes, hands that strangle,
knives that disembowel and blood that
pours out. They humiliate me and beat me!
They make me a slave and become my master
I end up sucking my thumb before they lead me
away and feed me to sharks.
why do they plunder my good dreams
when I turn out the lights.
serving time in a florida prison is like dying
with your eyes open—
no blindfold,
no last cigarette,
just the slow grind
of the sun on metal roofs
and men on men
trying to survive
the next breath.
It’s like being dropped
into a war zone
without a rifle,
without a knife,
without even
your damned fingernails—
just the skin you were born in
and the fear
chewing its way out.
They tell you join a gang
or be meat.
Simple math.
No philosophy.
No God.
Just the promise
that if you stand alone
long enough
somebody will take
what’s left of you.
And the guards—
hell, they’re the ghosts
walking the tiers,
bringing in
eighty-five percent
of the poison
that keeps this whole circus
spinning.
They shake your hand
with one palm
and sell you your coffin
with the other.
A typo
on bad paperwork
can get you
unalived—
and the judges know,
the prosecutors know,
the whole machine knows.
They’ve known for decades.
It’s cheaper to break you
than admit
they were wrong.
So men walk out
years later,
shaking,
half souls,
half shadows—
called “free”
but too ruined
to hold a job,
trust a hand,
sleep through a night.
Worthless, they say—
though it was the system
that wrung the worth
out of them.
And in those cages
here in florida,
there are hundreds,
hundreds of the innocent
rotting like fruit
in a hot truck—
waiting for someone
to open the doors,
waiting for someone
to admit
they were never
supposed to be there
at all.
Please leave the light on!
I dragged my hair in the mirror in a dark navy blue sea
I sat in front of me-Tantalus ate my heart
Dejavu is always my dreams. When I woke up, I was an amethyst stone
And the broken glass was under me. Snakes were falling into the sky garden
The last trumpet blew on my surface. On the silver-shining skin of an angel
I darkened the sun. I walked on the ship of my skin, the Bosphorus was the daughter of Athena
Hours are simultaneous geometry. A toy dead body is the pain of flesh on my cheek
Please don't turn off the lights!
My 1 year old is passing by the bridge at the end of my bed. His horse Yehuda's trumpet is constantly blowing
A merchant is selling my photograph. I dressed, the paints flowing from the canvas to my soul
Violets are rotting in the formaldehyde solution. The leaves are lynching the last mammoth of the forest
We learned primitiveness. That's why our pain doesn't turn to the dawn
A blurry moment... The mask I'm chasing is bleeding into my plastic body
My angry, mad shadow is swaying. Blurry time...
I'm bent over and swaddling my face. In Euclid's cadaver reflected in the glass...
I'm scared, please leave the light on!
My beloved wife
It was the crows calling that gave the final warning on this mid October morning.
Just as the mist began falling upon the hills in a strange manner that was almost unnerving.
This morn shall be my final calling as my soul begins souring high above the clouds on this mid October morning.
Signalled by the single rose placed upon my coffin.
Not a healthy rose but one that's wilting, It's red petals fading and it's leaves browning.
It was placed upon my coffin by a loan woman who stands morning on this bitter October morning.
She turns towards home and begins walking, towards my old manor house that now stands rotting.
She passes the spot in the garden where she hid the knife the other morning, just before the police came calling.
Alerted by the chamber maid screaming upon discovering by body laying bleeding.
Murder was the diagnosis, probably by a burglar was the prognosis.
The window was broken and my jewellery was stolen.
They didn't bother to ask about the missing kitchen knife, it was all falling into place for my dearly beloved wife.
As she approached she questions what she saw, large boards placed upon the entrance door.
Upon the door a sign held by a single rusty nail, it read this property is now for sale.
Due to deceased occupants an auction will now take place, in gods grace she calls out from behind her veil of lace.
This can't be true, I felt the morning dew seep through into my newly bought shoe, she pauses for breath as she begins to think things through.
Now the truth begins dawning that it was her soul and not her body that left the hill this morning.
We are now two souls exploring, one up and one down on this bitter October morning.
A Flood of Tears
When tears glue eyed lids’ tar to balls of fire
and tear apart a soothing balm called resolution
as tar defeats the lysosomes of ragged vision
a third eye calls for sixth sense in a sickened time
a cry for a cry decries a festering splinter inside out
When shackled chakra invites distorted sounds
sticks on that loopy tone and tune in endless loops
as hearing plasters mucilage in mutilation’s muteness
a third ear of quietude invites a healing frequency
a voice reprimands cacophony and beats the drums
When smell exudes a sewer’s skewer
taste falls foul on buds and buts again
touch lost its grip on grapple’s clench
and rotting leaves leave decomposed what’s left behind
one message remains to battle out the wreckage
There is no phoenix no panacea no external healing
no clever plot to complete the warring conqueror’s return
let alone no algorithm or conceited panoply of ease
but only you can change the things you try and can
and everything starts with longing length for suffering to cease
May 11 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Job 12-15
Key Verse – Job 12:13 With him is wisdom and strength, he hath counsel and understanding.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY WISDOM
Lord God, You are my Wisdom, holding my future in Your understanding
Thank You for hoisting my inferiority’s pleading
While healing me from mockery and despising’s wounding
Also handling me with Your care always unfolding.
Lord God, You are my Wisdom, involving my time through Your teaching
Thank You for insuring my way by Your counsel’s preaching
While immersing me into Your might and strength’s coaching
Also inclosing me within Your protection of compassionate stretching.
Lord God, You are my Wisdom, justifying my ignorant reasoning
Thank You for jamming my deceitfulness and sinning
While joining me to Your excellency’s planning
Also jolting me against fleshly reigning.
Lord God, You are my Wisdom, keeping my salvation in Your uplifting
Thank You for kindling my faith toward constant fervent trusting
While kissing me with Your love against selfishness-rotting
Also kicking me out from carnality’s bait midst holiness’ testing.
Lord God, You are my Wisdom, leading my days toward fruitful accomplishing
Thank You for loading my hands with prosperity that’s eternally flourishing
While locking me within Your redemption assurance from hell’s perishing
Also liberating me against pain due to condemnation-languishing.
Lord God, You are my Wisdom, moving my lips for divine exaltation’s uttering
Thank You for making my speech clean, sanctified from flattering
While meeting me in prayer for my comfort against suffering
Also minding me for diligent service by Your maneuvering.
Lord God, You are my Wisdom, nurturing my soul in Your pardon’s dealing
Thank You for nourishing my spirit with Your truth’s ruling
While nursing me from infirmity’s ailing
Also nestling me within Your love so unfailing.
May 11, 2023
If by chance I could relive my life
I will make more mistakes
will relax and be more sillier
Prasing every second of my life
than what has been so far in this journey of mine
I would have tolerated more,
took more chances and face challenges
Would have travel the world
and finally, yes, spent more time with my family
Maybe eating more ice cream and avoiding unnecessary drama
yes! focusing on real troubles
Then having fewer imaginary ones
If only I could do it again
I will travel lighter and go to more dances
perhaps spending time with nature God's Creation
picking more daisies
You know this life is a mystery
As we tend to grow old,
we have all our mistakes
unfolding in front of our own eyes like a movie
and we are just left with a phrase >
I believe that God didn't create us
to merely achieve name, fame, and power
For I want to believe there is something deeper
Our standard of life will measure our lives
Never of living conditions
We are not here to just entertain ourselves
with social media and doing robotic routines
To scroll up and down like a Robot
feeding our mind junk food,
rotting these marvelous brains the creator gave us.
We literally invented the most powerful tool
on the face of the earth,
to spread hatred on twitter and Instagram
literally building the most advanced computer known to man
and using it only to watch YouTube pranks
So let's change that
and make it our mission to walk the talk
Because there is a difference between a life well achieved
then a life fill with regrets
Remember, it doesn't matter,
the amount of money you stored
for as a matter of fact,
you are not taking it with you on the other side
So live your life to be happy
to have no regrets and finally to serve God your Creator
A frothy mist shrouds the ground
A cool breeze drifts all around
A frosty chill doth surround
Solar rays no longer resound.
A plethora of colored foliage aboveground
A web of tangled, rotting roots underground
Chelones, Mums, and Golden Rod abound
In gardens bright, colored gourds propound.
Ragweed pollens and mushroom spores confound
Leaves metastasizing with brighter hues redound
Stealthy Evergreens emerge into the foreground
Maple taps their sweet syrup doth expound.
Migrating birds skirting cooler air are southbound
Doting Wasp Queens from dying nest bound
Honey bees cradle in warm, colony compound
Squirrels Summer store will carefully impound.
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