Long Ruined Poems

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


Premium Member God's Eyes

We often say,
heaven is above.
We may look up to the sky and think of heaven,
think of God.
Recently a writer said,
"the Blue Sky eyes of God."
That hit me profoundly,
yes she was right.
Since then I have not looked at the sky the same,
I now see God's big blue eyes.
They say God sees all,
that God is everywhere.
Now it all makes perfect sense,
the big blue sky is everywhere.
Now when I see the big blue sky,
I know I am really looking into the eyes of my God.
It is a comforting feeling,
a loving feeling.
This week it rained,
no big blue eyes to look into.
As I watched the rain coming down,
I said Oh no God is crying.
The rain seemed like His tears,
God was crying.
Then I cried,
we sat and cried together.
God made man good,
God made everything good.
Man has become cruel,
man has ruined so much.
I can see why God was crying,
for He has been so badly hurt.
I now look at the sky and see God's big blue eyes,
I now see rain as the tears of God.
 
 
 
Date Written: 1/20/2022
 
Note: Part of the line, "the Blue Sky eyes of God" was in poem,
"How to Become 1" Written By Lady Labyrinth


The Wanton Rapture Blazing

"The Wanton Rapture Blazing"

I hear you in the ribbons that sing
tied to poles of gallantry where charged
with acts of misadventure love carried me
to your walls, I wrote on them then, as I do now
to trace each mark, each a scar on the other's groove penned,
a key for the turning buried deep in a forgotten heart 
revenge does not exist there, it lies in state numbed 
on the boundaries where ruined territories whisper, best buried 
never to be found again, what judgement made you misadventure,
to seek me here, standing on the other side of inside out exposed,
with my runes tempting futures with an inner fortune split 
and rendered aligned with waning moon, we call to each other like loons,
you seem to be full of the Icarus waxing lyrical, billowed you, approaching
the all seeing I, your valentine downfall, the wanton rapture blazing 

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Valentines Day



“Bayonne”/ Elysian Fields
https://youtu.be/6XSekP_8Gp8















Inspired by Petrarch’s 
“To Make A Graceful Act of Revenge” 
https://petrarch.petersadlon.com/canzoniere.html?poem=2

Petrarch
(Francesco Petrarca, 1304 -1374)
Philospher, Poet
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petrarch





LYRICS/ “Bayonne”, Elysian Fields 
https://genius.com/Elysian-fields-bayonne-lyrics








As the undertow is pulling me down
With your cross examination
I'm receding in the teeth of your plow
But I won't dig my own grave


As you're twisting every word that I say
There's a snare in the forest
Under brush where you want me to play
But I won't dig my own grave
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Blueprint and Bloom

The ink is dry upon the vellum sheet,
Precision lines where every corner meets.
A calculated world of steel and stone,
Where logic carves a kingdom of its own.

But through the cracks, a stubborn green appears,
Defying all the measurements of years.
A tangled vine that does not know the rule,
The uninvited guest, the nature's fool.

One seeks the stillness of a sterile room,
The other thrives within a crowded loom.
How can the compass and the drifting seed
Find common ground for any mutual need?

The wall is built to keep the chaos out,
To silence every petal's quiet shout.
But roots are patient, heavy with their toll,
And structure cannot cage a lawless soul.

We stand together in this ruined space,
Two opposing truths in one embrace.
The grid is shattered by the rising thorn,
And in that wreckage, something new is born.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member To Paint the Skies

.                           1~

She walked ~ faint footprints left behind
A maiden's journey~a silent remind
of long-ago days in deerskin dress
A shelter of skins won under duress

She walks with wind along the Plains
Feeds quail and birds the corn remains.
Her voice, an octave or two below
returns their music as she sows

She prays for peace and for the rain
She wants her lover back again
and corn that reaches up so high
it paints the blue across the sky.

She wants those days before men came
took their children, killed their game
She wants the breezes in her hair
and mourns those days of little care.

                           ~2~
An archaeologist~grave robber, some say
Yet before each dig, she takes time to pray
For this is where people lived and died
Birthed their young, laughed and cried

She finds the footprints under deep sand
Preserved for years by Nature's hand
And, next to them, some bits of corn
A wonderous find, and yet she's torn.

Put on display for tourists to stare
hallowed ground ruined, many despair.
A tug at her heart, the call of a bird~
She decides to leave site undisturbed.

As she moves on, she throws some corn
For quail and birds to feast upon
Perhaps nuggets will one day rise ~
As stalks so high they paint the skies.
© Ann Peck  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Dining With Dysfunction

Mother asked her big brother to pass the sugar;

big brother ruined it by splashing on liquor;

father rued spilt liquor by throwing his jigger

that hit sister who lit an elbow hard slammer

straight into the hand of their rare guest and butcher;

butcher stood to secure a full-face slap on her;

slap missed, striking their napping, fat cat to a blurred

flying fur on shriek tour that dog crashed with claws bore;

clawed dog wailed and bailed, dragging tail out wee dog 

door where he ran to distance pain until a looper

stopped his scooter – close by was one giant cougar;

too pooped to care, tired dog flopped right then and 

right there; dog closed eyes, cougar cleared throat, then 

croaked, ‘Hey, Lassie, are you insanely blind to cougar 

claw lugers?’; dog moaned, ‘A quick cougar corker beats 

home murder.’
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Hearing Voices

A heavy fog, misty gloom, sadness
Spreads all around me, sinking deeper
Into my spirit, my heart – my depths
Singling me out for the doubt
That feasts on my broken dreams
Devouring all my happiness and breathing
Slowly, urgently…. Through my veins
Flowing uncertainty, suspicion, skepticism
Powerful plasma of despair and dread
Sinking my joy into the intense blackness
Stifling every splash of inspiration, 
Shining panic, terror, through my silent
Need for something to heal, to help
Comforting the disquiet that leaves me…
	Anxious and afraid

A vague sense of ambiguity, desolation
Sweeps through my heart, my thoughts,
Discouraging, daunting, dampening
Every feeling of goodness, acceptance
	hope

The joy that once danced there within me
is numbed, stiff, frozen beyond thawing
tenderness, once liquid, is cold and solid, 
like a prayer that has faded into the past
leaving only the memory of how amazingly
	my heart has been blessed

Night creeps into my bones, shattering
All the optimism that I’ve known
Ominous, ruined songs of anticipation
Mysterious suspicions attack, even my fantasies
Feel like pessimism buried beneath 
Masks of gladness – the nervousness
Rages through my stillness, covering me
With threads of incumbrance, alarm, trepidation
Fear is never ending, always there, speaking
Louder in the silence than it is in the noise
Intensity pouring out hopelessness through my soul
Dimming even my very best aspirations, 

Courage is gone and I am ashamed
That this fear, this dread… it wilts my pleasure
Recedes into the shadows, weakening
Failure shrivels all my inspirations, colors me
In hues of death, grief – lasting phobias

When the panic rises, on the inside
I know only to hide – beneath the silhouettes
Peace, prayer, praise… they wane, vanishing
Into the cryptic secrets of mental illness
Where light grows faint, reflecting only
The sighs of a night so yawning it speaks
In a voice of demise, a voice of passing
A voice so afraid it is as garish, stark…
	As fear itself!

Premium Member Afternoon Engagements Part 2

part 2 of 2

“How’s school going?” Annick asked later, moving some of my fly-away hair out of my face - a trace of the maternal in her solicitous fussing - but I liked it.
“Easy peasy,” I said, the lie warming me like an ember or black magic. 

There’s no real sibling rivalry between us. Imagine you’re Beyoncé’s sister, what are the odds that you’ll eclipse Beyoncé? Yeah, it’s ZERO. 

“Ha!” she laughs, “you are such a little fibber.”
“I am NOT,” I hotly say, but my defense is ruined by my laugh. “I’m doing ok - but it’s a lot,” I say, to erase the fib.

They’re ENGAGED! 
I tried not to act stunned but I doubt I was very convincing. The news thumped me like a gust of wind. Suddenly, I knew. Our yesterdays were no more substantial than a story we’d read together growing up, that you can mourn and rejoice at the same time.

Otherwise it was a family lunch, although at first I was a bit nervous around Gerard. At one point Annick says, “What are you doing?” as the table gently quivered.

I smiled wincingly, “Making circles with my ankles,” I said. 
Annick smiled knowingly.

In the Distance

An earthen pathway long forgotten
For many ages left untrodden
A relic not ruined but long forsaken
By dusty feet, this road’s not been taken

Through whispering woods, to ford flowing waters
Across fertile fields, through verdant green valleys

Who can say where it now shall wander
Through lands that wars have split asunder
What memories now will be unspoken
Their secrets forever lie unbroken

Friends’ councils ignored, a warning unheeded
Words spoke in anger to end a nation

Death to the people who once lived and thrived
A people whose rulers clashed and strived
Proud kings to wisdom listened not
Mustered the armies, the battle they fought

Decimation, demise, a people destructed
The sole remnant of which is a road long abandoned

What wages will teach us the cost of our actions
Why must we split into divided factions
A people’s legacy, all that’s left is a road
Remember it well, for we reap what we sowed.

Christmas Crook

Last Christmas Eve, I met a man who was homeless, he was all alone.
I made a serious mistake when I decided to let him stay in my home.
My family and I woke up on Christmas morning and we were sad.
We started crying because that man stole every present we had.
We woke up to a tree with no presents under it.
We were very angry and I damn nearly threw a fit.
I called the police and two days later, the thief was caught.
That crook begged me to drop the charges but I would not.
After he stole our presents, he sold them and bought a lot of booze.
My family cheered when he went to jail because it was excellent news.
I tried to help my fellow man and you see what was done to me.
Our Christmas was ruined but when he went to jail, we felt glee.
Form: Rhyme

I'm A Effing Horrible Person

I hurt him.
The one person I vowed to never hurt again.
The one person I was actually healing our friendship with.
I hurt him.
Again.
I was honest with my feelings,
on how I still loved him
but didn't wanna ruin what we had.
It hurt him.
He didn't talk to me.
He looked at me as if things were awkward again.
I made him feel like crap,
I know I did.
I feel like effing crap
because I made him feel that way..
I ruined everything..again..
I'm a eff up of a human being..
I don't deserve happiness,
I don't deserve love..
I'm a horrible person..
And a horrible person never deserves the good in life..

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