Long Scarily Poems
Long Scarily Poems. Below are the most popular long Scarily by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scarily poems by poem length and keyword.
Rarely not windy
In the far flung
Squarely unfairly unsung
Seriously deliriously magical
Mystical..mythical Catlins
Rather adept at being
Scarily palaver kept..
Wild & warily windswept
Gusts crept not
Slowing then leapt
Boom & bust thrust lust
Not caring us despairing
Sussed trussed trees cussed
Unruly unjust showing growing
Glaring..nonplussed
Haring..not fussed
Duly well &
Truly cruelly blowing
A helluva Hooley
Mean flurry of almost obscene
Breeze seems in no hurry to ease.
Smashed...whacked...bashed.. smacked
Lashed...by gusting...busting galloping gales
Never fails to leave me blustered and flustered
Lolloping..at the end of my tether
Amazed by crazed walloping weather
Raised & mustered
Brazen Mother Nature dolloping
All turned to custard
Surely they will pass...these fast blasts can't last
No need to be cryptic..it's almost apocalyptic
Have we sinned against the god of wind
Feel the real deal glee of Taw Fee Ree (Maori God of Wind)
Maybe he might hear me...respond to this plea...
Help our plight...let us alight from
The fight against the fright
Flight of breezy bite blight..
Just some respite
But it is quite a sight
Wild fling..Aotearoa spring can bring..
Darkness & light
Centre staging..in the raging...roaring..rampaging forties
No point deploring..knocking..ignoring
Shocking haughty windy warlocks
Soaring..scoring..rocking the joint
Warring.. doing their naughty thing
Lakes and beaches are wiped clean like a whiteboard,
each day by waves, tide, wind.
Then marks of ripples and tracks provide transient tell-tales
of what has gone on since, of what is yet to come.
What caused those ripples? Where did they come from?
What caused those tracks marking crisscross paths on the sand?
From whence did they come? To where are these interlopers going?
The agents and causes know nothing of these things.
They do not care.
They can't know they are being tracked.
They do not wipe their foot or finger prints clean.
They wander furtively wary,
scarily and carefully looking about, but unaware.
They dare not look back,
lest they be cast into salt or stone,
or sent back to hell,
for defacing such clean pristine spaces with
their street-art hieroglyph graffiti.
A hushed stillness lies over the lake at dawn
A single plop or tremble stirs a ripple the mirrored plane.
Soft as a whispered caress on a sleeping cheek,
Perhaps the kiss of wind, barely daring to touch.
Perhaps it's the kiss of fish rising to take a fly.
Perhaps an insect flitting, skittling onto the surface
Or a bird dipping to drink from beak.
The ripple propagates outwards in concentric rings,
echoing and resonating on its journey,
long after the cause has passed and gone.
Where are these ripples of unknown causes going and why,
The sources are untraceable via back-tracking,
remaining hidden and mysterious,
long since gone.
Do these ripples want to cuddle a distant shore,
to caress a foot paddling in the shallows,
to rock a boat with sleepers to sleep,
or to kiss the pebbles puckered up to kiss in rows?
Or to simply go and then fade gently and dissolve from view,
happy in their journey getting there.
In time the wind and water gathers breath,
to blur the lines, to wipe the scroll and slate clean,
To blow the sand grains around to cover the tracks.
The tide comes in, obliterating the imprints.
The wind builds waves to crush the ripples in chaos.
The defaced becomes a pure clean mirror surface unmarked again,
With no trace of regret, or memory to replay.
The defacers, shakers and movers,
long forgotten, forlorn and forgiven,
have faded away, to dreams and memories,
forgotten, hidden, wiped away, until awaken.
Readers note; Wrote this story concept five years ago. Have an additional fifty pages if interest spikes.
The Charcoal Man; Part One
Cohen & I were sitting in class whilst Mrs. Knooman picked up a withered piece of chalk we had never seen before. It had what appeared to be a sigil of a red eye on one side and a man without a face on the other. Was scarily eery. But I don't think Mrs. Knooman noticed.
She was a piece of work that woman. A right slag if you ask me. Hates her job, most likely her life too. Pretty sure her partner walked out on her when they couldn't bare her nonsense any longer. Honestly felt somewhat sorry for the broad.
I started bickering with Cohen as Mrs. Knooman turned around, after finishing drawing a circle no wider than a ruler. ''You halfwits need to pipe down before i decide to front a story to social services about how your families beat you.''
As me & the enitre class shrieked at what this woman had just said, the chalk seemed to...Churn, it was almost as if it was dissolving into the chalk board..But the board yet remained. Mrs. Knooman was in such a sudden rage that she hadn't even realised what was happening.
The chalk was gone on the board now, only leaving behind an outline of where the white tracing once was. It looked peculiar though, almost unsymmetrical to the touch. I was definitely right about that too..Because just as I and the entire class had noticed, a hand emerged from where it seemed crooked. The tips of the nails had just been sharpened, they were blacker than the blackest charcoal you could dig from the Earth's soil...And they just kept on seeming to grow.
I was stunned, there's a damned hand coming out the chalkboard. Cohen started screaming like a child. Right as he did, the hand shot out what now seemed like a doorway and opened it's palms to reveal eyes as red as thick flowing blood. Mrs. Knooman stopped yelling and turned to see this handeye looking directly at her.
Part Two Continues-
Sirens sounded secretly securing source. Strait sacks swooshed scamps scaling sensitive sentries (simply spayed seals) surveying surrounding staked spy sotted sham semicircular slipshod shelter. Snappy, Snippy, Snoopy suited Skyhawks surprisingly swooped somnambulant senseless scriveners. Sargent Salemander slipped shiny shimmering shellacked Sheppards Shutterfly sidearms sized simulated small skyscraper slinky, soapy, spooky squarely summoned, sentenced, sacrificed see swarthy Samsonite satraps Section SpecialOps.
Sometime soon savior snuck stealthily stealing sinful schleppers. sundown syzygy saw serendipitous, surreptitious, surreptitious segue-way shuttled safely Scottish shoals. Stigmatization stayed steady. Supplication statements swatted. Sole survivor swiftly spun self shaming sesquipedalian soliloquy. Sea side serenade soon spewed solipsism saving Slim Shady.
Sayonara seminal surfer swirling scarily sans sinister serpentine silent space.