Long Scathe Poems
Long Scathe Poems. Below are the most popular long Scathe by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scathe poems by poem length and keyword.
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
alone with the enduring Earth, and Night.
With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;
who wrestles with his dream; as some pale shape.
Their sharp black heads against a quiet sky,
where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies.
As if the vanward clouds of evil days
Call to the HOURS, that in the distance play.
I'll miss thee sporting o'er the dewy lawn,
the spots and struggles of the timid Dawn
here where seclusion looks out on a scene
not what will be, but what, long since, has been.
So scathe it, as the flocks with venom-bite
And where the red was, lo! the bloodless white.
THE relic taken, what avails the shrine,
or crackling holly, or the gummy pine?
The trees are full of the dark-stooping night
with octaves of a mystic depth and height.
When life is done? Perchance in other spheres--
across the gulf of darkness and salt tears,
I would not tarry if I could be gone,
as one who having wandered all night long.
Among th' immortal pow'rs, and free from care;
even the torment sighs soft in the air.
The shrieking of the tempest-tortured tree,
of her most ancient, chastest mystery;
untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon
with vain Inscriptions, which the Freeze has borne.
But see the sun-beams bright to labour warn?
Every conception that a man can find
that dwell within the compass of the mind
sink tower and temple; nothing long may stay
of watered light and dull drowned waifs of day.
Graveness of iron; moist black earthen mould;
an orb's dim throes, by iron stars controlled.
A climbing moon upon an empty sky;
the grey lawns cold where gold, where quickgold lies!
Light, darkness, air and water, heat and cold,
who can distinguish darkness from the soul
for him, that calls for Succour from the Throne
till either gorge be stuff'd or prey be gone?
Catch the faint voice, and raise the languid head.
what need of name or music hath the dead?
I hear huge Pestilence draw vaporous breath,
come, heavy sleep, the image of true death
with silent feet into sleep's poppied lair.
My Soul. I summon to the winding, ancient stair.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men
as silent Suns to meet the Night descend.
How do I acquire a place where I can forgive?
How can I stop blaming myself for my mistakes?
I can't recall the version of "Intrinsic", but it's conflictive,
None can quash them If you can't forgive rattlesnakes.
It's difficult to forgive wrongdoers who won't swage,
It's cruel to excuse inner suffering from a rapist's rage,
It's difficult to grace louts who have killed your family,
Spirits will not retaliate but can whip you clearly.
No, I'm not a saint; failure is not the same as forgiveness.,
That doesn't refer I must trust or favor the chorus,
He seems angel but he throws his seat through the window,
He is tiled with a shabby female tattoo on his elbow.
I felt vulgar, stupid, and useless,
Close to the leech and slimy worm, that's sageness,
Every smile contains a malicious chart, so I lack faith,
I endure on wobbly legs, wiping away tears and scathe.
How can I resist the urge to do things right?
Some people mind me a skeptic. My kids guess I'm bright,
In fact, they suppose I'm an incredible winner,
If they view suffering, it will improve my manner.
No one understands what I endure,
I am not in a position to reveal such rancor,
I'm tired of seeing and living a shabby life,
I wanted a widely used headline in some rife.
The tombs of our ancestors are everywhere,
Earth's soil is the body's dust, walk lento, and care,
The suffering of death is greater than the joy of birth,
O cooing doves bestow to the weeping, some mirth.
Some actions are held liable, but none are shrewd,
Every devout soul has a past, and every deceiver is lewd,
Who can you forgive if not the toughest opponent?
You are fully ungrown with this Atonement.
The blast radius of your grief can harm the soul,
What if the people around you are shown a rays hole?
What if you cling to someone else's roots to be injured?
It all begins with a runic visceral fear of the biohazard.
I select my destiny and discover myself,
Say farewell to my harsh youth with purity and pelf,
Today I saw the opposite of what you taught me,
I also forgive you for everything before I flee.
1st Place Contest Win.
Written: June 25, 2022
Forgiveness Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
There was hue...There was dew..
A lot of smiles...& some tears too...
Lot of friends....trusted enemies few...
Known to me was bliss and happiness...
And then there was You....
You walked in through the mystical light...
Full of blissful learning and pure delight...
I wished all harm be out of your sight...
I tried to help and be there with all my might...
You had many a story to tell.. ... lies shared little did i know..
One day all that i selflessly gave ...would be turned against my own soul...
I walked beside you in complete faith of all i was told....till God could take no more...
He stole the moments and tore me apart to maybe save and take control...
Why did the truth not come forth from you...i will never fathom...
When all i asked of you was simple facts..and never judged or held your heart for ransom...
In truth we could have served our noble cause...in it's pure light we could have stood so tall..
Why then did you not think to protect my heart...and let it in this well of lies fall..
Did you not but once stop and think of how i might feel...
When you realized all my spirit one day your untruth would steal...
For all the love and care i gave ... i got back a handful of allegations....
Enough to destroy my heart and soul and demolish all my aspirations...
Why i ask my angels did i deserve this humiliation...
So much strife , scathe , suffering and frustrations....
All i gave was undying care and genuine love...stood by you always...
Never did i let you down when needed..never did i walk away when your call heeded...
For all that was shared...Why wasn’t i spared....
To give me an ounce of honesty ..back i wish the person cared....
As life moves on...with some hurt and some hope too.....
As i try and remain to my life's purpose true....
I remember once i had my innocent heart and soul that believed in people and truth..
...And then there was You
Random Penning….Ruhi..
As the receding
nestles of dying
love
in full bloom,
now
sadly blown away.
The seasons of
the massacreing
tides of Autumn,
the soothing winds
of change,
now gently at bay.
As love's decree
of passion
resides at chamber,
felt within the door.
To conjure a broom
for everyone to hold,
peasantry, pleasantry,
a harlot,
and a merciful whore.
There is passion
hidden beneath
the swirling cosmos,
a treasure found
within thee.
Like the hearkening
cries,
of Dove's. . .
made beautiful,
peace be with me.
As songbirds sing
the beautiful grandeur
of rose gardens
made lively,
exuberant,
a splendor of bliss.
As wine bearers
fathom,
the essence of wrath,
a gentle darkness,
a widow's hastening kiss.
By way of coven,
be it not foul,
and also full
of such,
a bestowment of blessings,
of tears, of gentility.
There ponderous,
my Hecuba,
amidst your poisonous
scope of treason,
Mars and senility.
Conceit upon
this morrow's eve,
of sacrilege and blaspheme
concerto phantasm.
Yes, for tradition calls,
upon entrance of estate,
made unbeknownst,
no proclamation of thee,
a luciferus ******.
As a racing menace
bewildered,
by the means
to wound obscene.
Ungored, at length,
a mandrake's gesture,
bitterness
and more poison
of undine.
Where'll'st be,
betaking your ambience,
of twilight autumn
oh fine.
A lecherous Eve,
a serpent's wisdom,
to set her on,
oh perilous eyes
of mine.
As perching swans
upon the revealed
ides,
of Zeus.
Gentle lady,
I beg thee,
a pardon
for the ibis goose.
Of thee,
the essence Diana,
as graceful
as no other Ceaser.
Fleeting perils
of doubt,
madness,
and glee,
what it takes
to please her.
Oh shadows
of temptation,
a scurried passion
of the Abydos
at Hades
A gentle Isis,
mistress
to
the Lots of Salem,
o'er plentiful
maids.
Though
to scathe
a peasant maiden,
be it not of chivalry
due rotten chaste.
The kingdoms
of decadence
and decay. . .
of the morrow,
a consent
of distaste.
Form:
Kindled my soul at the time of my birth.
It feeds my craving for the boundless,
superior joys of desiring to be soulless.
Owing to the breadth-widening death.
Like it drew the moth to the fire spot,
Your heart will no longer be the same.
The zeal blazed deep within my frame.
Being your goal is all I desire in my heart.
Similar to how a fire burns logs of wood.
It turned each log into a heap of dust.
If life across you falls apart, hold trust.
Adding soul light to fire as a lover should.
She swayed to the rhythm of her drum.
Drumming swings penetrated the darkness.
Fireflies lit the way with a sharp blackness.
I'm baffled; what drives you to clean scum?
Sharp fangs tear your soul aside eating fire.
Embrace those who support your view in dark.
I quietly beg for red flowers and a sheer stark.
You are aware that I grant you light and choir.
Your eyes shine brightly in the sunlight.
Your presence brightens my every day.
Your inner fire inspired me in every way.
Not even a single tear escapes my sight.
Cast light on the radiant hunger of life,
increase with each brilliant dawn beam
and soothe during the night's quiet gleam.
Where every day creates various strife.
Your best mate is your spunky soul fire.
Seeing love in your eyes quenches the carrier.
I pray that your soul sets fire to every barrier.
It aims to foster a mindset over your pyre.
My skin is on fire from the pain of a needle.
as if a comet is hurling toward the sun.
The soul's shells burn, fall, and hold a ton.
I understood how life and death wheedle.
Will we all perish in the raging fire?
Restore our spirits and release us.
Water was enabled to stoke the glory.
Without wings, you are stuck in a dire.
Hopes were burned by fire-spawned smoke.
It faded from vibrant light, fearful of wrath.
Should it be uprooted if it strikes a scathe?
Will wiping the slate or leaving it to invoke?
Written: December 10, 2022
Written: March 28, 2024 For Edward Ibeh Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It is a myth that time cures any wound,
It is merely what people say and sound.
When the wound was simply skin-wide,
No reply may occur due to decay sighed.
Oh, suffering of not being able to die or live.
Such a wounded sigh to endure and strive.
Feeling numb and wounded, sighs escape.
My heart churns—overwhelmed by a scrape.
Pebbles embed in my brain cortex.
Amorphous swirls provide a raw vortex.
Oh, suffering of not being able to die or live.
Such a wounded sigh to endure and strive.
Assessing a child's stomach on baking day,
Those smitten by love share anguish and decay.
Fail to express love or even heart grief.
Charmed in a state of anguish and relief.
Oh, suffering of not being able to die or live.
Such a wounded sigh to endure and strive.
I perceive kismet as a formidable antagonist,
One could not despise his rival or protagonist.
That amazes everyone—upon slaughtering me,
Who slain me, or who carried out such butchery?
Oh, suffering of not being able to die or live,
Such a wounded sigh to endure and strive.
Let's devote the night to the wounded.
Their bodies are battered—rise to be subtruded.
Whispered to no one, cleanse of their scars.
Wounded sigh in killer room as dusk dew parse.
Oh, suffering of not being able to die or live.
Such a wounded sigh to endure and strive.
Those who have been wounded by his arrow,
Those who were scathe sob in love, thrill shadow.
Wriggle on the rug with love and reverence.
Heal wounds themselves, hurting its severance.
Oh, suffering of not being able to die or live.
Such a wounded sigh to endure and strive.
Head over to celebrate with them tonight.
Love may seem corrupted—they cry fake sight.
If they shed fake tears—their love isn't divine.
Believers never act wildly or display mood signs.
The heavens,
Of reaching them, have I set my aim
In their essence do I dwell
From their roots do I originate
And in them,
Lies my heart!
Yet, I shall renounce of them
Shall it be
That the whispers of the night
Scathe me!
I shall renounce of them
As, how am I to enjoy them
If I shall have to enjoy their
Thousands of moons
All alone?
I shall renounce,
Even if such shall hurt the Gods
I shall renounce,
As my cause remains that of love,
Love which have been paved
Here, in a realm which makes the purity
Of its bond even more difficult
Love, which has its meaning in the stars
Love, on which relies the cosmos
To keep its beating heart on!
Pray,
After all,
I did choose to fall for the sake of this love
I did choose to fall on an Earth
Which laughs at the misery of its children
I did choose to fall
Merely because the love willed to me
Clawed at my heart, tearing it into tiny pieces!
Being happy requires being selfish
In my selfishness
I choose to renounce of the heavens
Even if such would require
That my soul ceases to be!
Why, I remain, here
A puppet dancing to the tunes of fate
I remain, here
A being whose life belongs not to her
I remain, here,
As seaweed, drifting at sea
Pulled by the tides,
Or wilting on the shores
As long as I remain of use to those powers
Watching over me!
But the pain is getting harsher,
And harsher
As if it were the dagger of gloom
Pleasuring itself in plunging into the
Softest parts of my mortal body
Laughing at the blood being drawn from it
Enjoying my tears
And my despair!
It is all a matter of time
It is just one life
I shall have not another
The heavens,
Of the hope they give do I
Build my strength
But I shall renounce them
If such would be required!
can we demean a mean word?
can we abrogate its mean intent?
who can voice the "n" word?
you know the one I mean
rhymes bigger but it's Not
some people of a pigment
take great offense at it
while their bro's say it raps
with heart an' appreciation
denouncing a whitish oppression
an anatomical word that rhymes punt
that some of gender can't or
won't hear of hearing it
in any context taken,
a personal affront
the f'ing word fills some with ire
that word that wraps up firetruck
and puzzles those physical desires
copulate 'stead that might be struck
who would give a mere word power
to rule over their own heart?
why everyone would blankly agree
that mere words have the power to
affront, to wound, to scathe
yet closer, more focused one notes
too see, that arcs and lines
to form letters so words are
just that, representation thought
of idea, no intent sold or bought
the skin wanes and then thickens
with some words i do reckon
hurt still and some discomfort
a part of words so encumbered
words like, useless, unimportant,
illiterate, futile, unworthy, bad,
expendable, are to the soul, anything
but commendable, but express thought
of places stood, direction to take
the ancient Jews decided that their
name for god must not be spoken
by mere women or men, even children
a sacrilege and affront to derogate
almighty, god, Yahweh, YHWH, Adonai
a very utterance against creator
yet never occur that every utterance
origins from such, if god is, as said
"I am that I am" then
I voice that is heard
what is a word, is just that word with
only power or potency, that I give it
© Goode Guy 2013-03-23
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Names_of_God_in_Judaism#YHWH
"Reveries are gifts of moments, even melancholy ones,
when our hearts were happy."
~ by poet
We planted a flower garden, he and I
Throughout spring's sunny weather
Shared our hopes among heliotropes
We did everything together
My reveries linger of when my finger
wore a ring that he had given
My life is marred and I'm scarred
By the thorn love used to scathe me
We grew roses in nurtured beds, he and I
Throughout summer's warm weather
Relished each bloom and its perfume
We did everything together
My reveries are treasured memories
But the summer days have ended
We live apart and it wounds my heart
For the thorn's still causing harm
We shared wine when we dined, he and I
Throughout autumn's chilled weather
Drinking Cabernet, he vowed to stay
We did everything together
My reveries at sunset fill me with regret
Gone are those days of fall, one and all
Chilly winds blow, and soon it will snow
The thorn still pricks my skin
We played in the snow like children, he and I
Throughout winter's frigid weather.
We walked in the moonlight every night
We did everything together
Until we said goodbye, and now I cry
In sadness I weep; without him I can't sleep
My reveries remain, and with them the pain
Of a sharp thorn in my side
We loved each other, he and I
Throughout four seasons of weather
Days of dancing, nights of romancing
We did everything together.
Reveries of us I can't forget, and yet
I wish I didn't remember that December
When it all ended and I pretended
Not to feel the thorn that pierced my heart
You believe me to be an altruistic man as I smile with sneering reluctance.
You may think me gentle as I extend my hand in goodwill, but degraded am I as I wistfully watch my hand recoil from your filthy phalanges with its foul clutch.
You wave me off poised as I stand here in this field laden with perennial flowers as they stir aloft, but unbeknownst to you I berate you as you retreat afoot and go forth from my company into the night.
You deliver beautiful words in my image unto your friends, but I carry your name with seething indiscretion into the fire.
You entitle me as a "friend", but I explicitly fornicate your secrets as I spitefully scathe and scoff unto you.
You divulge your mysteries but I deprecate them and take exception to your standing as I plunge you within rueful nether worlds foreboding in treachery and wretchedness...
Why? For I have no pride unto you.
You place your life you into my palm and recite proverbs appealing for my heart unto yours, but guileful am I and in wicked glee do I carry unto the grave your beauty with its secrets.
You inscribe me as a "fiancée" into forever without recognising the falsifier whose witness bears mistaken.
You smile as your recite dreams aforementioned in times bygone, but I chastise you, and your children do I condemn into hell for their fondling fledgling and fornicated perversions.
You call me a "friend", but I am forever you