Long Scape Poems

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


Before the Gates of Alahsar - Version - 2 - 7

Chapter..........1..........Part..........1..........4.

Now, mighty ones, 
I return to sing the song of Alahsar,
now, come with me,
once more, let us stand in the priceless dream,
like the eagles, high aloft,
let us fly now too Dream-Scape.
A great wall stands,
ever impenetrable, 
this outer wall to kingdom,
it stands firm,
within the great wall,
the largest, silver gates we behold,
this is where the song does take us,
now, let us see what we shall see,
let us watch the scene unfold.

We see many soldiers of the outer guard,
armour shining,
they stand watch at the outer gates,
Now, listen, a great hammering on the gates,
something hard strikes four times on the gates,
then a short break,
this repeats, time after time,
the signal of the enemy dignitaries,
outwith the gates, 
in eternal darkness,
these damned souls awaited entry.
the gates are slowly opened,
soldiers now stand expectant,
mighty hands on sword hilts,
spears at the ready,
shields held tight,
the great silver gates,
they open slowly to the darkness,
a gasp from the soldiers of the golden king.

These mighty soldiers,
they now take a step backwards
out of the darkness,
eight spider riders of Akrah,
they advance, 
they come forth on their gigantic spiders,
shudder now at this sight,
slowly, these abominations,
they did come into the light.
soldiers of the golden king,
they begin to retreat,
stand tall, men of Alahsar,
the order of the golden king,
let them pass, these loathsome beasts,
The gates stood atop a hill,
at the bottom of this hill,
one hundred of the elite knights,
the Captain and ten others, 
they did splinter from the group,
ascending the hill.

The mighty bastions of Hellish design,
they move so slowly forward,
eyes of amber putrescense,
aligned on head,
perfect sight,
poison fangs begin dripping,
food so close,
bodies of the most mighty bulk,
carried with such hateful ease,
eight mighty legs,
they carry the weight with ease.
True, dark-haired demons,
born of the darkness,
what fear they do instil,
their leader, on the first spider,
he pointed a long finger at the captain,
Slowly, the spiders moved in line,
towards the Captain, their Hellish march,
when the head rider was up behind the Captain,
they all started down the hill,
Let us now follow this strange procession.

To Be Continued..........
Form: Epic


Premium Member Transmutation

Written: December 02, 2023

Quote "Without birth and death, and without the perpetual transmutation of all the forms of life, the world would be static, rhythm-less, undancing, mummified." Alan Watts

              ________________________________________

“we woke up early one morn, ego shorn
it felt as though we were in form reborn
nodes within stirred, boundaries blurred
our head and heart, with love concurred”

I deploy discursive divine depiction as a guide.
A gateway to Genesis, where it takes its side.
Unbridled and untamed, my voice may rise.
I pursued knowledge out of pure surprise.

Low-frequency vibes induce a shift in shape.
Scarcity leads to transmutation, of spare scape.
Alchemists transmute leads to sacred gold.
Metal sheds its genius luster in the kiln hold.

I waltz freely with doom in the gloom.
I inhale oxygen to marvel at life's bloom.
I endure steps yet disappear in the dream.
Structure is unaffected by the skill stream.
 
Love is my soul—my reason for existence.
Living in lavish love is a lifelong vow of diligence.
A mind, weaved with such insight, was so warm.
I flaunt my firm frame in this fabulous form.

When you are feeling opulent and egotistical.
Those who are dominant were miscible.  
Departure might induce an unfillable hole.
Descry a suitable way to purify your soul.

There are ecstatic and tragic days, love and hate.
No matter how tough we strive, this will be our fate.
Note how sporadic and fleeting life is; spot the stride.
Our days of tribulation bruised our noble pride!
 
Rather than succumbing to hatred and rage.
Turning negative into a rising trend of assuage
Let trust and troth tackle tricks and malicious
Such a restrained demeanor is truly auspicious.

Within, most consensus spans are wide.
It's all whim; scatter love and watch it glide.
Trust your scintilla—trek to the boundless sea.
We may all profit from sowing wisdom trees.

Conquered the most-dubbed landmass on Earth.
And yearning to discover raw levels of worth!
Death, then delirious with deceit, drove his life.
A wicked beast embedded himself in strife!

A susurrus sparkle to the shimmering love.
Enhances adieu strut below the moon above.
Breeze says, "Love on, my dear, and dance."
Across the trees, a gentle man's glance.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

As Moon Beams Danced Across the Night Sky

when on a lark, this primate shut his eyes
   until sight formed slits doubling up as a wink
this earthling stared hard and scrunched brow
   unintentionally mimicking,

   the familiar Auguste Rodin statue
   likened to a pose when one doth think
perhaps said captive pose pondering
   (similar to me) about life on other planets

   while I stared at lunar surface
   akin to a disc or dime sized skating rink
awash with luminescence
   and imaging himself whisked away

   by an alien, synonymous
   to the peculiar millions miles distant pastische
   manifested entity than didst slink
a non hue man feline looking cat in the hat

   comical creatures decked out entirely in pink
soft halos conjured up saintly mink
or...a far fetched thought suddenly
   came to form in my mind,

   that this har creature a found missing link
whose nocturnal glowing facade exploding charade
   possibly a message
   or motion nothing more

   than routine smoothing out an anatomical kink
on front and back oh head resembling
   a Doctor Zeus characterization,
   viz a harmless rat fink

hm...maybe a vestigial progenitor
   of former birth by Gaia now extinct
though from afar, the b52 shaped being
   aye espied as fur ball affixed

   with a long elephant like snout to drink
and appeared to lack occipital orbs,
   yet evinced possible mode to see via a chink
impossible to restrain me noggin
   appearing to nod and blink,
--------------------------------
hence entranced my attention fixed
   from faint (perhaps a feint)
   flickr ring meant as playful faux
   role playing lunatic humorous acting wry

impossible to decode explicit antics
   (of spacial cosmic guest),
   no matter eyes nearly shut tight visual
   wondering if non verbal communication

   of mine correctly interpreted
   meant to kibitz and vie
despite impossibility to validate,
   a continuous effort yours truly did try

fixing thy gaze, nee straining
   with alm aye might to esse spy
if cheap trick concocted entire visage,
   which might not constitute life form

   (admitting this chap to prevaricate,
   and be full of baloney),
   himself prone to confabulate
   (dropped one to many times on the head)
   when this rocky lunar image,
   a moon scape comprising nothing
   boot ham and cheese on rye.

Trade Winds

Last call for alcohol, embargo 
              on the cargo headed for Fargo? 
                      Bootlegging articles of? 
                          "ConfederationNow", 
Boot logger, droned Over all? Foggered... Froggers, sprawled. Farms attacked by competing vows. ++
Blood drained Cows.

 
                              Imagine, Gaia hype- our brainwashing, a 
     sacrifice to a Paul Bunyan Nephilim type, "Savior" moonshining wormwood tea in exchange for Sheep. Believing them to be. Stoned blind in Texas, right wing. 

Liquid Media medicinals, points for eveyone West of, Diagonal the Allegheny, best of show, suggestion, 
             allegiant, allegory. (Oh...allegedly.)

                 As The King of the North fights zombies that believe the Game of Thrones just fantasy. Conspiracy_ Storytellers of propagandolf, minds of Sauron to keep 
                            eyes Wide-Shut. By Aristocracy.
To "pass" on the proof of those stoned blind in Texas, shekeled, bought, brought a Rose, of Sharon, 
from Ticked Karen's, in their own Eden. 
Those non-Citizens, 
"Christians of the un-Enlightened" l"unacy of Old', 
             thoughts? NoahmadicHeathens!

              Of the tide turning; going South. 
The dark side of the moon, 
       a journey scape of wet dreams in swoon. 
To partake the half empty side of drink. 
                         Salt of thirsts. 
             Cup of wrath of the Directional Winds. 
       A piracy bloodbath of Nationhood in martyred demarcation zones. 
    Cusp of swilling blood of the swill, 
    Apocalyptic feel, fills, 
    notes of the unveiling of the Whore who Rides the Beast on the Seven Seas. Leviathan is leavened, 
rising, ready to eat.

Now, there is censorship on speech on the internet, 
then is, when, is then en-Tyrely. 
The Gatekeepers at Fallens keep, 
keeping freedom, voices "Crying in the Wilderness"', 
Peeps out of reach. 
Accept for Government (entities) with algorithms, keyloggers, identity id thieves, imagers of the Beast. 
Spell binders binding 
their articles-of-New-World-Sourcery-Cheaping-Rumpelstiltskin-Seamstitchery-Tailoring-Truth- blinding-digital-mining-slaves for the Wolves, 
                Kings of the East, Trading Company.
             Trading souls for an hour with the Beast.
Form: Rhyme

Devastated

Take me out of here and, 
Never bring me back to this dungeon
    
      Hell for the monkeys
    
      What eyes could see what i have seen without going blind? 
    
      What mouth could speak of where i have been without going
      dumb? 
    
      
My legs wobbled and trembled
    
      Hands held high in defeat
    
      I have been through hell
    
      And it rejected me, begged for my leave
    
      Devastated, enraged, shattered and desperate
    
      Who could believe it was caused by a friend? 
    
      Most trusted and honoured among all
    
      It pays to work with an enemy rather than a friend.
    
      My eyes are dim and weak.
    
      Love and passion gone to exile
    
      Strength dashed away sadly
    
      She betrayed me, authorities took over
    
      In a trickish violated manner
    
      I became dumb, never allowed to say a word
    
      Became the morning and afternoon scapegoat
    
      Feeble after the hundred metre race 
    
      To save a bereaved life.
    
      All she had to do was sit back
    
      Watch the harvest song play out
    
      Then, i follow
    
      Once i stepped in and fall
    
      She got an instant scape goat.
    
      Out there, the air and people molested me.
    
      A sharp fire ripped a hole in my stomach
    
      I'm not sure whether a rage or pain but it hurt so much
    
      Always in a dead silence against my right
    
      Behind this bar, i felt blood drained from my face
    
      Each seconds i looked at her
    
      She's breathing heavily_panting through her sobs.
    
      As a friend and liar
    
      A lunatic and a lover
    
      As a bored rich kid, a fear nothing thrill seeker
    
      An odds defying gambler and even, 
    
      For the briefest of moment, as a perfect daughter in-law
    
      I have seen her every where in between
    
      But never as a betrayer
    
      I reread her names half a thousand times
    
      The calmest among us  zubem
    
      Thus fear a silent man
    
      A fist of nausea punches in the throat, 
    
      And my chest caved in
    
      With the taste of freedom on my tongue
    
      Inside my chest, a volcano of rage explode
    
      But in all dear do take me out of this dungeon.


Premium Member The Sea Storms Lullaby

In the rocking, rolling surf I picked up a random seashell,
And just listened to the sea storms lullaby, the curling of
Spray urged a hushed soft whispering echo, what an ear
Fulfilling symphony impressed my vivid imagination of
Fertility!
Sweeping this beach combing land locked refugee, to 
A distant place beneath fathoms briny deep, an aquatic
Paradise shined in brilliance before my pondering eyes,
I’m beguiled by the opulence emerging, to the life
Surging all around me, this spiritual dreamer on a 
Vision quest under the big blue’s sky scape!
Just then I pause to hear all the sounds around me,
The whales trumpeting, the waves crashing against 
The rugged, craggy shoreline, and the rushing undertow
Smashing on the coral reef below!
Blending in perfections melodic curve in successive
Musical notes, are the distant sounds beyond human
Comprehension of the unknown, unexplored discovery
Zone, yet what beautiful music this unwater world
Makes, for all the senses to in drink and partake!
Squalling seagulls screech above, as a swelling tornado
Cloud of silver Minnie fish form in twilights shifting 
After glow of the mid-afternoons light!
Textures aquatic sound waves lull me in tune
With natures under seas ambiance, giving this
Mystical realm in exotic feeling of transitioning,
I’ve been transported beneath, and dwell as a
Part of this magical sea scape captured in it’s
Vast beauty of light and sound, lost an 
Inspirations muse!
Suddenly the tones change as the storm winds
Blow in, the sea orchestra refines unto rages
Thunderous climax shattering the peaceful silence!
It is the sea storms lullaby, rocking the rolling surf,
To destructions ultimate rheum, awakening this
Day dreamer from slumbers awakening shifting
Drift!
Lord Titans waving his mystical trident, lied’s this
Classical chorus of mariner’s tragedy, set to destiny’s
Thunderous overture of aquatic rapture gone airy,
And here I’m standing alone reveling in the musical
Hail storm spell bound, in awes after effect!
Listen to the sounding sea, can’t you hear its sweet
Melody’s lost within the hushed silence of the seashells
Mystical song, in essence spray it awaits thee, come
Along mystic dreamer and know the true essence of the sea!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.

The Tragic Comic On His Way To Meet Jesus

the worldly folk armies of the twice enchanted for common tragedies                           reaping the pleasures of others that they can no longer enjoy singing goats songs                escaping to the hills of freedom while a coil of rope of undisclosed amount unravels behind the scape goat like the elusive gonzo hunter's infamous mumble as tumbling down a rabbit hole in search of self landing in a pool of sharks                                                 all have fallen short of thy glory as we Pierrots stage upon stage                                        the verismo or in contemplation committed the Pagliacci                                                with tears and laughter in your eyes where to find sanity in a mad mad world                      laughing at parodies of you own self will only last so long                                                like waking up to find the drink again with shaky hands                                                      for all have sinned on the way to meet Jesus                                                                     for He came to save the lost the friendly physician rejoicing more for one sheep found than the ninety-nine still on a more tragic note is the one who thinks he is not lost                     counting sheep to go to sleep to get passed the regrets of the day                                      awaking to chance wandering the world for another day                                                blinded by an unseen enemy who tells him he will be okay                                               then repeat the matter of his own comedy without hope                                                     without God in this world but there is hope for I was there                                              to find find power love and a sound mind a peace that surpasses all understanding             while working so hard to find the who am I                                                                  The good shepherd found me my greatest treasure                                                      may He find you the Lord Jesus is the gift to mankind                                                       when you find him it does not have to end in a tragic time
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

Wisdom's Call

Wisdom and understanding do raise their voice
On the stands beside the paths they yell that you make a choice; 
At the gates of bazaars both do cry hoarse and loud, 
And wonder how orderly the world would be if all fools vowed
To live according to their simple dictates, 
And leave all evil and unwholesome tastes.

When shall the simple gain understanding and prudence, 
And the unknowing embrace a life of sense? 
The Almighty detests deeds devoid of reason, 
For His perfect nature is never perverse
But just and fair in His rule over the universe; 
He thus like Him wants all men to be
For nothing short of this can His heart please; 
Not even valued incense offered my men of hearts remiss! 
 
Choose understanding over quick silver
And understanding over choice gold; 
All who these chose in the world of the old
All possessed and lacked not a single thing, 
For nothing desirable can be compared with wisdom; 
It is the ferocious guard to watch your home, 
And your delicious meal in the face of hunger! 

Fear the Lord and hate all evil
And it shall not destroy your grain any weevil; 
Hate the perversity of crooked and warped speech 
And among men of sense carve yourself a niche; 
Let counsel and sound speech be yours
For these alone are limitless power
To wield for help in the need's hour; 
When troubles and adversities betide, 
Wisdom is a sure place for you to hide.

In wisdom are enduring honor and prosperity, 
Truest valor and freedom from all forms of temerity; 
It's the only scape from all shackles that engulf, 
Amnesty from all follies that grind! 

They rule with justice and without fear of overthrow
The wise kings and princes who fear the Lord, 
Who marked the boundaries of the seas
And demarcations of the dry world! 

He who fixed the clouds and the firmaments, 
Has with Him all treasured endowments; 
Blessed be those that keep His ways
And many shall be their days
That hearken to His wisdom, 
Obey His decrees plain and clear, 
And His hallowed name fear! 

Be not beguiled by the cacophony and the hubbub, 
The law of the Lord remains unshaken and superb; 
And the fear of the Creator remains the only refuge
In the face of disaster and drowning deluge!
Form: Pastoral

Premium Member I Hear Them Now

images are slow to fade, where did they go? why were they here?
  pensive pen and ink, a gentle man of measure
  pipe-smoke wafting cool blue persevering pleasure
  cartoon humour designed with careful modest pride
  arm-in-arm soothing his war-time petulant bride
  oft-wiped canvas, woodland, moody misty scene
  roaming through pale paintings where her lost man has been
  merging ever always their special being; are they still near?

  old parental faces time-spun and woven under my skin
  memories upon memories, changing I, changing me
  stories upon stories pile up, changing they, changing we
  falsehood flailing, transition, turbulent knowing
  transcendence, my mind, your mind, all minds are growing
  we are mid-paced sampled brethren, thinking anew
  significance in what we say and what we do
  personalities on kindred journeys beyond kith and kin

  kick string-strung corporeal cans down the celestial street
  where the multi-dimensional membranes quiver
  where energy swims across the quantum river
  where slow light-speed traverses the nebula face
  where superpositions collapse with certain grace
  where fine bits of information feedback feeling
  where negentropy out-runs chaotic dealing
  pick soulful sounding song, counter-rhythmic orchestral beat

  sprung from the fundament, nothing always trumped by something
  prime numbers inflate unfolding untold troubles
  universal endurance, containment bubbles
  pushing, pulling fields, filaments of flexing shape
  veils warp and wrap around a wily cosmo-scape
  intelligent infant guises, gaining in-sight
  impressions crossing chasms to inform the night
  lives on holographic film, many melodies to sing

  I hear them now, voices blending the chords of man and wife
  I feel their presence, though they are forever changed
  I know they are transformed, molecules rearranged
  I share their warm substance, two people that mattered
  I care for their essence, they will not be scattered
  I record them in words, the library of thoughts 
  I sense they are near and far, few and many noughts
  I am listening out for them on the other side of life
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Loose Stools

I seethe with livid rage within the bowels of my being
when sitting upon the porcelain goddess ample defecation doth cling
immediately triggering an internal self hatred 
   charge of body electric to signal an inaudible ding
though a figurative lid 
   kept atop unrelenting,  toil letting, and smoldering, red hot poker anger 
   withering vocalizing heard all the way to Ewing
informing  high pitched emergency siren intended for catastrophes
   to generate ear splitting ring,
which Soundcloud echoes continued re:verb burr ray ting

trying  utmost effort to keep wretched loathing sans soft excrement  
   (I.e. unformed rectal waste matter) spewing within bit torrent cheek 
this psychotic cannery going cook coo 
   to sublimate **** angst inducing mental tipping point asper this freak
whose ultra bizarre psychic affect from other than a solid turd
   doth seem  overly absurd, which anonymous reader reaction 
   may find this more difficult to decipher than speaking Greek,
but thy neurotic posterior predilection qua rear, 
   or what crap emanates from buttocks generates a peak
into the off kilter mind scape of this bottom of the bowl Sheik 
finding myself going berserk and weak

in the high knee, where blasting acrimonious derriere glowing jolt
would be typical of schizoid personality dis odor dolt
whose exultant, copious ablutions (against mine excretory system) 
   gives anyone whose eyes espy this tragicomical frenzy to bolt
perhaps wondering if a soft padded sonic boom encased room 
   most suitable for this bay bee boo moor adult

whose coping mechanism to bear with me peculiar mental drek
somewhat flushed out this beastie boy via writing poetry, and heck
with these mailer daemons, finding refuse in the noggin of this smart a 'leck
within which these highland imps 
   resembling fifty plus blank shades of gray matter if ye did in speck
the cerebral cortex of this pooped out scribe riding an ass a nine trek.

Dire rhea 
spurs intent for permanent vacation – not just brief hiatus via see ya
yea...ache kin to the grim reaper that stole eva or Zsa Zsa
Gabor  - hungry for every mortal.

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