Long Schemed Poems
Long Schemed Poems. Below are the most popular long Schemed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Schemed poems by poem length and keyword.
There are visions roving inside my head
of a time and place where perhaps I once lived.
But how do I know of those worldly things
if I no longer exist? I must question if I ever did.
I am off kilter, as if I'm an invisible entity,
a salty speck of foam floating on a sapphire sea.
Should I feel dire despair, indifference, or jubilant joy
that I am not part of this place that's been laid to waste?
It's as if I'm surfing in shadows over what used to be
an amusement park, but the Ferris Wheel is broken,
and there's no spark of life anywhere to be found.
Only faded pamphlets lying on the ground, sun-bleached
remnants of the way life used to be, once upon a time.
I pity me for having been given this gloomy glimpse,
a vandalized view that no one could misconstrue.
I feel like Alice wandering through a frightening fantasy.
Desperately wanting to go back through the looking glass
and forget the devastation in which the world dwells.
If I ever had an inkling of what living in hell would be,
then in this chaotic clime, this dysfunctional dystopia,
I would seek to escape my existence and set myself free.
I feel the need for fresh air, but who would care
if I should have lived or died? No one cried tears for me.
What future fate have I discovered with thoughts
hovering? Tragic thoughts that haunt me like a cold stare.
What ill winds have swept the world away?
Cursed be!
How can anything exist is this sorrowful sepulcher?
I'd rather be a soulless specter without a home
then live among those in this lamenting land.
This is not Aldous Huxley's Brave New World.
It does no good to imagine a world without me.
Friendships made; children born; none of those would exist.
I can only envision these things. These things that I've given wing.
They roam inside my head, making me wonder if I had a beginning
or an end. I feel repercussions from having a discussion
with myself over the conceptual conundrum of my existence.
Would I have been happy, would I have made others happy,
or brought them grief like the thief who collects the dead?
It's a nightmare of reality, for I am sure it's not a daydream.
Greed played its Trump card and schemed to sit on the throne
in a kingdom I could never contentedly condone.
I've no desire to dally here a moment longer, and
since I don't exist, I am certain I will not be missed.
Part I: "Shadow of Intent"
Beneath the blaze of summer skies—
A couple met by fate;
She lived where marble towers rise,
While he bore fortune's weight.
His lady, clad in blue-white dress—
He walked a stranger's path;
A train carved through the wilderness
Towards her manor's hearth.
She yearned to pierce his somber shell
Behind that shadowed gaze;
She longed to mend their fractured bond
Through love's enchanting maze.
Through valleys deep and mountains high,
He chased his haunted past;
A fleeting shadow caught his eye,
As truth emerged at last.
Part II: "Crimson Revelation"
The manor stood, a ghostly frame—
Its walls held whispered woe,
Of wealth amassed through deeds of shame,
And lives laid low below.
The blade he bore, a justice grim,
Yet in its weight, hearts ached;
For vengeance sung a hollow hymn,
While souls remained opaque.
His lady trembled, reading truth
Within his hardened stare;
Memories surged like tidal streams,
As terror filled the air.
"My wings you clipped, my pride you stole—
Now witness my reply,"
His sight dissolved in shadowed fray,
As love collapsed to die.
Drenched in anguish, veins did flood;
The killer's blade gleamed bright:
"To thee, whose greed stained kinship's blood,
Your debt is claimed tonight."
His vengeance sealed, yet victory hollow—
Alone he stood at dawn;
As twilight claimed the fading sun,
His final act was drawn.
With steady hand and solemn grace,
He turned the blade within;
His blood now stained this cursed place,
To cleanse his mortal sin.
Part III: "Twilight's Release"
Upon the earth his form did rest,
Now freed from mortal pain;
His spirit soared at death's behest—
Two souls joined once again.
Ethereal shapes took form above,
His cherished ones of old,
Who suffered noble's cruel design—
Their tales left yet untold.
His lady dressed in white and blue,
A child of gilded shame:
Her bloodline plotted, schemed, and slew
His family's final frame.
Thus he exhaled his one last tear,
Before the void descends;
And there he lay, his purpose clear—
A peace that never ends.
-
Ethel Hurst
1889 – 1918
I saw the town rise up
Like a single blade of grass after a spring rain.
I played a multitude of hop-scotch games
With my best friend Hannah on Penn Street.
And sipped a hundred ice cream sodas in the Mercantile at sunset.
My mother took me to Jacob’s Grocery every Monday
And it was I who picked the plump oranges
From the big rickety crate.
On Saturdays we worked the fields at Strong’s Ranch,
Harvesting the pampas in the walnut fields.
And on Halloween I was the girl in the moon-face costume for five straight years.
When Christmas brought its luminous lights to the town,
Mother dressed me in red with a bell on my bonnet.
And father sang the carols with a guitar and a tambourine.
I graduated from the big high school in 1907
And in celebration,
Rode my bicycle to Bassett
Still in my starched graduation petticoats.
Jesse Forbes,
He being five years younger than I,
Was the love of my brief stay on this earth.
But when he ventured to steal a kiss that day in Black Canyon,
I used my calloused hand to convey my stern disagreement.
But what wild regrets I’ve entertained since Jesse drowned that day.
In the wild currents by Pio Pico’s crumbling Adobe,
His body bobbing like a sea bird
In the punishing plume of that old deep river.
Beyond the muddy banks and the wild flowers,
Jesse Forbes left this life with a surprised frozen grin.
Why Jesse? Why?
You never knew the truth, my love.
You never really understood what I meant
When I said nothing.
I said No to you when I said nothing that day in Black Canyon,
But I really meant Yes.
The influenza incinerated my heart and soul
With a 106 temperature in the winter of 1918.
Twenty nine years I dare say
Is nothing in terms of eternal life!
I had so much more to do!
I had so much more to dream about!
I walked and talked on the streets of my town,
And on the funeral-dark avenues of my innocent days.
And I planned and I schemed
And all for nothing!.
Indeed, I felt the pulse of fleeting time
And the never-ending,
Ever-turning circle of endless days.
But now I rest here in Clark Cemetery… a virgin corpse
Flirting shamelessly with the bow-tie worms,
Still wild with regrets.
And forever haunted in reverse
By the same recurring memory
Of Jesse Forbes holding a rose.
Under the old oak tree in Black Canyon..
THEY SAID HE HAD A POOR ATTITUDE
HE WAS A SORE LOSER
A PERSON WHO TRAINED HARD
AND FOLLOWED COACHES INSTRUCTION
BUT WOULD SELDON TAKE DEFEAT IN STRIDE
HE WAS SEEN BY HIS FOOLOW COMRADS AS
A PERSON YOU WANT ON YOUR SIDE
BUT YOU DIDN'T WANT TO COMPETE DIRECTLY WITH HIM
BECAUSE HE LACKED A MORAL SENCE OF OBLIGATION
HE WHIND LIKE A BRAT.
HE'D CAUSE HIS PARTNERSHIPS TO LACK FOCUS
HE'D OFTEN BE SEEN WITH
FOES OF HIS FREINDS
CAUSING THEM TO NEVER REALLY TRUST HIM
HE LACKED A SENSE OF DIRECTION
AND WHEN THOSE WHO SAW COLLABORATIVE EFFORTS
WOULD BENEFIT BOTH
HE'D DO SOMETHING TO CAUSE VICTORY: BUT HE LACKED
THE STAY-IT-IST THAT TEAM WORK NEEDS
TO HAVE A COHESIVE GELLING.
WE CELEBRATED HIM AS BEST IN THE WORLD
THIS WAS DONE WHEN HE BECAME THE
FIVE TROPHY CHAMPION DEFEATING
A MAN WHO WAS SMARTER, TALLER, FASTER, MORE AGILE
AND SOME SAID MORE CUNNING.
HE SAW PAST HIS FAULTS AND DECIDED HE WAS THE BEST IN THE WORLD
AND ALL HE NEEDED TO DO WAS DEFEAT THE CHAMPION TO DO SO.
HE DID: SEVERAL PEOPLE WISHED HIM DEFEATED
THEY CONSORTED, PLOTTED, SCHEMED, AND EVEN CHALLENGED HIM
BUT ONE MAN SAID HE WAS EQUAL IN STANDINGS TO
THE MAN THE WORLD CALLED CHAMPION. a FELLA THAT REPRESENTED THREE COMPANIES AS CHAMPION, WON HIS SIXTH CHAMPIONSHIP FUSSING THE TITLES CREATING
A NEW NAME FOR HIS REPRESENTATION. SIX COMPANIES CALLED HIM CHAMPION,
HE REFUSE TO DEFEND THE BELTS SEPARATELY, AND HE
PUT IN HIS CONTRACT UNLESS HIS COMPANIES WOULD FULLY TRY ON NATIONAL TELEVISION TO SUPPORT HIS EFFORTS AS THE ONLY
AND TRUE COMBINED CHAMPION, HE WOULD FORFEIT THE TITLES CAUSING ALL SIX COMPANIES TO HAVE TO DEVELOP TOURNAMENTS.
WELL IT WORKED
SOMEONE SAW A PROFIT IN WHAT WAS HAPPENING
AND 11 COMPANIES CAN TOGETHER FOR ONE NIGHT IN COSTA RICO.
THEY CALLED THE EVENT
"NTAEUS'S CROWNING" THE MAIN EVENT WAS CALLED CROWNING ARTAEUS" THEY WRESTLED FOR 56:59 MINUTES WHEN THE TIME KEEPER RANG THE BELL.
HIS CLOCK HAD BEEN OFF SET. SOME CITED INTERFERENCE. bUT THE TIMEKEEPER HAD BEEN SWORN TO A CERTAIN LEVEL OF MORAL CODING.
BOTH CHAMPIONS THINK THE BOUT WAS AT A DRAW WERE SUPRISED TO HEAR, THE THE ATHLETIC COMMISSION SPEAK THE WORDS aNTAEUS vECTOR" WHICH MEANT A RESOLUTION HAD TO BE MADE. THEY DECIDED ON A TEN MINUTE CONTEST.
BOTH COMATANTS WRESTLED TO A DRAW.
Deep in the dungeon in the back left corner
Was a mere shell of what was once a man.
He was shackled to the wall of his own design
By the love of his lady so fair, and divine
The queen of a land so far away in time
With a king who held her ever so dear
Locking them away alone from peasant's view
None of his subjects gazed upon this mentally ill king
He had a smothering love for his queen,
Abusing her in every way
Never there for love, but only in his mind
She hadn't felt his touch in years, other than abuse
Then one day her knight came in on his white steed
They loved under moonlight each night in secrecy
Hiding their treasonous affair from the evil king
Until one night he caught them
The knight dueled injuring the king's ability to speak
The queen fearing their treasonous death
Plotted and schemed as not to be beheaded
To the knight's chamber they carried him
Dousing the room in oil laying him on the floor
Dropping the lantern the knight held
Flames rose in the chamber, consuming him
The queen screamed to the subjects for help
All the court came running to douse the fire out
The knight and queen really started
The true king was unrecognizable and couldn't even whisper
The knight came forward as her husband the king
The queen burst into tears,
Explaining how the knight attacked her,
Setting the room ablaze
All his subjects bowed before the knight, the changeling
I am sorry dear king, the subjects said
As the knight pulled the queen to him,
Ushering them to take him away, to the dungeon below,
Shackled, and chained, in his own kingdom
In the dungeon the king waited, to be beheaded
The knight secretly became the king instantly
Taking his spot next to the love of his life, the queen
No one suspected a single thing
She visited the king one last time before he died
Telling him how she loved him, stroking his cheek
Watching the next day as they beheaded him,
Hiding her head in her knight unknown
Her dark side she displayed
The day her knight became her king
And her king became some subhuman thing
He had truly always been
The knight now the king with his lovely queen
Ruled for many years, having ten children
Of tainted royal blood, but no one ever knew
Their secret love and darkest treason ever committed.
As I look down and see the ground, on which my feet don’t stand
The light I see is all around, things haven’t gone as planned
It’s really kweer, I’m standing here, and somehow, you are not
You did your worst, let me go first, off of that beauty spot
We didn’t shake on our done deal, we sealed it with a kiss
I would leap, then so would you, to our eternal bliss
The best laid plans of nice young men, lie face down in the mud
For I chose this eternal light, and you chose my best bud
So, was I dead between the ears
Too dumb to see your lies
Or to spot your cunning plan
In which it’s me that dies….
Everywhere I look are sheep
On tiny pasture clouds
They’re interspersed with people
Who have wings and wispy shrouds
You schemed to take my life insurance, ’pon our rocky shores
Ironic that your latest squeeze, will soon be taking yours
I watched you in your fancy car; the car that once was mine
But then you took it for a drive, when he had spiked your wine
So, was I dead between the ears
Too dumb to see your lies
Or to spot your cunning plan
In which it’s me that dies….
Everywhere I look are sheep
On tiny pasture clouds
They’re interspersed with people
Who have wings and wispy shrouds
But there’s no wings nor halos in a box bearing your name
There’s rules for new arrivals, with regard to why they came
So when you get here you’ll be processed, then they’ll send you to the basement
I hope it’s not too warm for you, for it’s an all time placement.
In God… I trust… I guess… I must
For though… you’re here… I’m not… too fussed
For what… I see… amuses…… me
You schemed… for lust… your scheme… is bust
For there’s no wings nor halos in a box bearing your name
There’s rules for new arrivals, with regard to why they came
So when you get here you’ll be processed, then they’ll send you to the basement
I hope it’s not too warm for you, for it’s an all time placement.
In God… I trust… I guess… I must
For though… you’re here… I’m not… too fussed
For what… I see… amuses…… me
You schemed… for lust… your scheme… is bust
you schemed… for lust
your scheme… is bust
you schemed… for lust
your scheme… is bust
your… scheme… is… BUST!
A variation on a theme by Dr. Seuss...
There once was a Grinch who was bad to the bone,
Which was why he always spent Christmas alone,
But one year the Grinch said, "Enough is enough!"
And decided to steal everyone's Christmas stuff.
In the village below, in the center of town,
Stood a great Christmas tree with gifts all around.
There were gaily wrapped presents, some large and some small,
Filled with treats and surprises for one and for all.
The Grinch plotted, connived, he schemed, and he hatched.
"Come Christmas morning," he vowed, "all that loot will be snatched."
Then he rushed back inside to flesh out his plan
To disguise himself as that Santa Claus man.
He measured, and cut, and stitched stitches galore,
When he suddenly heard, just outside his front door,
Something that set both his Grinch ears to ringing.
The sound was quite audibly somebody singing.
He opened his door just a crack so to peek,
And what he beheld made the Grinch squeak out "Eek!"
In front of his cave was a sight quite bewilderin'
A small group of seven or eight village childeren.
Then a curly-haired toddler toddled forward an inch
And cooed, rather cutely, "Mewwy Cwissmas, Mistuh Gwinch!"
The snarl that he tried for turned into a grin,
And 'stead of biting their heads off, he invited them in.
He dashed to his fireplace, tossed on a Yule log,
Then served gingerGrinch cookies and sweet green eggnog.
They ate, drank, and sang for an hour or more
Then announced they must leave and bounced out the front door.
As he watched them depart, to his utter surprise,
The Grinch felt his heart trying to double in size.
He quivered, he quaked, his knees started to shake.
"This unGrinchlike behavior has been a mistake!"
Then he slammed shut the door and proclaimed with a sneer,
"Well, you thwarted me this time, but just wait 'til next year!"
This tale has a moral, quite simple yet bold:
Some people can't change, if the sad truth be told.
The Grinch, of his species, was simply a bad 'un,
He couldn't change his spots, poor thing, even if he had 'em.
Ride of the Scarecrow Clan
(To: Mittens)
She was born in the corn on a cold misty morn,
the most beautiful cat on the farm.
(I must keep her from coming to harm!)
The most beautiful kitty inspired this ditty
with whiskers that whisper her charm,
wild white whiskers that whisper her charm.
But the angels grew jealous, much too overzealous,
they schemed up a dastardly plan,
that they stole from a bad bogeyman.
They would use and abuse all their magic, so tragic,
and conjure the Scarecrow Clan,
for their devilish dastardly plan.
The Clan owed them a favor for past misbehavior,
behavior so foul and so cruel,
they would ride when moon became full!
When the moon elevated they rose animated
to drown Mitten’s in the cesspool.
As they hunted they started to drool.
Hunting high, hunting low, riding ‘round to and fro,
the Clan frantically searched helter-skelter,
for young Mittens who found a safe shelter.
As they howled and they growled all the air became fouled,
but they couldn’t find Mittens’ safe shelter.
“When we find her, in acid we’ll melt her!”
Could these four scarecrows stoop to even new lows
as they hunt by light of the moon?
(Better hurry the dawn will come soon!)
Long they hunted and haunted but she was undaunted,
she laughed at the bumbling buffoons,
while she purred out some kitty cat tunes.
Curled with grace in a space near the warm fireplace,
for the Scarecrow Clan fears the fire.
(Just the thought of it makes them perspire.)
So they searched and they lurched in the fields near the church,
growing desperate, dejected, and dire,
for the sunlight will make them expire.
Without warning came morning, but there was no mourning,
the angels’ black magic was shattered,
and the Scarecrow Clan riders battered.
Under natural law the Clan turned back to straw,
and their straw o’er the cornfield was scattered.
She'll be safe now and that’s all that mattered.
13-March-2020 (Friday the 13th). First Place in "A Rattling Rhyme" poetry contest sponsored by Nina Parmenter
For forty days and forty nights,
He fasted by religious rites;
No nourishment sustaining him beneath the burning sun.
And so it passed that he should meet,
Amidst the desert's scorching heat,
The mastermind of all deceit, the undeserving one.
The devil, in his deft demeanor,
Notice that the Lord was leaner,
And preyed upon his hunger, for surely he did pine.
"If thou art truly Heaven's prize,
"Then suffer not, but improvise,
"Make bread of stone, foul of flies, and spit can be your wine."
"Tempt me not," our Savior spake.
"Go back into your burning lake.
"Man lives not by bread alone, but also by his deeds.
"I'll not submit to your allure,
"Nor from my father will implore,
"But suffer here forevermore, or wither father needs."
Then later, on a temple high,
"Cast thee off and thou shalt fly,
"Lest at any time thou dash thy foot upon a stone."
So spoke the fallen angel, he,
Who wouldn't let our Savior be,
But schemed instead ferociously, for the soul he'd love to own.
"What need have I to take this fall;
"To prove to you my wherewithal?
"Why should I, at your request, do what you should ask?
"Such beauty from this altitude,
"To leave abruptly would be rude,
"But if you need I'm sure that you'd be perfect for the task."
The devil, with his final test,
Took Jesus to a mountain's crest,
And showed to him the kingdoms of the Earth, and all their glory.
"This and more I'll give to thee,
"I'll crown thee king, eternally,
"If thou would only worship me, praise me, and adore me."
"I have but one I call my Lord,
"No pain of death by flame or sword,
"Could ever cause me to betray, nor covet what you sell.
"Thrice you've tempted me, an so,
"You'll thricely reap the grief and woe,
"Of every horror that I know, now get thee back to hell!"
And so it ends, this tale of tales,
Where good doth triumph, evil fails,
But sadly, as we often see, the world's a good mans fall.
So ask yourselves, true and wholly,
Something you must answer solely,
At what price will your own soul be, when the devil comes call.
-adapted from Matthew 4:1-11
(Esther 5: 2)
The King Held Out To Esther
The Golden Scepter
That Was In His Hand
She Was His Queen
The Woman Who Fulfilled His Dreams
One of The Most Beautiful In All His Lands
But It Was Persian Law For All
That Those The King Did Not Call
Would Be Struck Down Where They Stand!
Yet Brave & Beautiful Queen Esther
Whose Godly Faith Never Left Her
To Save Her People, Entered As Planned
Because There Was A Plot
Devised In Anger So Hot ...
By That Prideful, Wicked Prince Haman
To Kill All Esther's People
Haman Schemed So Evil
But The King Didn't Know Why It Began
... Or That Esther Was A Jew
In The Line of Hebrews
Who Worship The One GOD So Grand
But There Was No Hesitation
In Ahasuerus' Heart Designation
Towards This Woman Who Stood Royal & Serene
She Held Ahasuerus' Affection
and Did Not Suffer Rejection
As She Humbly Walked In, As His Queen
I Imagine All Got Quiet
Waiting For Swords To Riot
And See Esther's Head Roll Across The Floor
But At The Sight of Her Dignity
The Scepter Pointed Implicitly
To Grant Esther Whatever She Implored
And Oh, The Interplay
of Emotions That Day
Between This Woman & Her Loving Man
When The King Held Out To Esther
His Golden Scepter
... That Was In The Power of His Hand
* * * * * * * * * * * *
(Part 2)
Oh, And That Wicked Haman Was Hanged
And His Family Shared The Blame
But Esther's People Were Saved From Judah To Benjamin, To Dan
( Walk-On Hadassah - Walk-On ! )
Written & Copyrighted ©: 9/15/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
I have always loved the story of Queen Esther ... This is a love story that has it all - - a lovely-hearted, modest girl, (replacing a vain and arrogant queen) ... then getting royally pampered, massaged in expensive, perfumed oils, lots of clothes and jewels, winning a beauty pageant, finding true love, conflict and suspense and lastly the heroine saves the day (and oh, did I mention that she was an orphan?) ... 'Com' on Movie-Makers - we could enjoy a lot more of this ... MoonBee