Long Scream Poems

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


Art of Love, Not From Printed Page

I
He left to learn more: art of love to make,
And sun down, wished to rest in a village,
To take off at the dawn soon as to wake,
A graceful woman gave him a cottage.

‘Forget me not on your way back, she said,
A few years and he completed the course—
What flutter of eyes meant, every love aid,
What’s come-hither look, gathered from all shores. 

On his way back she made a room for him,
Hot water for feet, scents under pillow,
Heady garlands and what not did follow,
But what she saw made her nearly to scream.
  
It gave the young man some heady hot stuff,
Shaking him as if by nape of his scruff!

                                  II

He felt he was charismatic, handsome,
That, this lady has sure fallen for him, 
He felt a strange frisson from nowhere come,
Things unfolded around him a la dream.

And one day when the time seemed right, no qualm,
He caught her by the wrist, closer to pull,
But, lo and behold, she screamed, raised her arm,
‘Ye must go back to what so was your school!

Never once take a woman for granted,
For sure, a vital lesson was learnt well:  
There was much more to learn, he reflected,
Yea, theory with practicals must gel!  

Kama sutra, an Indian heritage, 
Can seldom be learnt from a printed page. 
______________________________________________ 
Sonnets (Tongue-in-cheek) | 09.02.2023 | love, women
Form: Sonnet


Premium Member Without Justice, a Child Becomes a Bullet

Peace is not a final state  
Peace is not a promised land  
Peace is a direction  
a discipline  
a daily  
  refusal of hate  

The sociopath exists  
The sadist masks up
The profiteer of suffering  
lives next door  

The work of peace is not to erase evil  
but to build systems strong enough  
to contain it  
detect it  
dismantle it  
before it metastasizes  
  through tissue  

Justice is not peace's opposite  
it is its prerequisite  

The trafficker must be stopped  
The abuser must face consequences  
The war criminal must be held to account  
Peace without justice is not peace  
it is surrender  
  painted flat  

Yet justice alone is not enough  
Walls crack like old craniums  
Locks break like crystal goblets  
Surveillance falters like failing hearts  

Evil seeps through the smallest crevice  
Because evil is not only in men  
it lives in systems  
in cultures  
in the poisoned soil  
  of neglect  

Carl Jung warned us  
"The world hangs on a thin thread  
and that thread is the psyche of man"  

The shooter was once a boy  
isolated like an island  
radicalized like a slow toxic poison  
armed like a walking war machine  

The gang member was once a child  
who saw violence as his only shield  
against a world that showed him  
nothing but  
  its teeth  

The abuser was once abused  
The soldier was trained to dehumanize  

This does not excuse  
it explains  

Explanation is the first algorithm  
toward prevention  
before the next boy becomes a bullet  
before the next scream is normalized  

I have seen what peace without justice becomes  
I have sat with its aftermath  
I have listened to its brokenness  
and it does not heal  
it waits  
  to repeat

I AM NOT A ROW BOAT

Done more than what we got
There's an AI robot - you!
Time to take a shot 
With the computer I fought "Doha" 

Yet, I still would NEVER kill Roy
With a G
In some biz
It still seems like ROYGBIV
Still living life
Forgot about the promises
Still, they do uplift
It is a gift as I drift 
The distance as it disses
That one final kiss
I skipped out on 
Now I am pissed
So, I guess I will grab a Lyft
As AI plays this last riff
I need to pick, lick, and get a grip, 
On this shined pulled from the pit
That last hit flipped the switch
From the tip to the lip 
That can just now stick
To when one admits 
That the tit of a bit of a baseball mitt
Could catch onto the rants of One Shoe
Keep up with the crew they grew for you
Then blew the rest out of its ass
Way far out and much to fast 
But  it leave it in the past
NOT worth the drama
Still when I get that Honda
American Dream
Scene kid that could, would, and should scream like the real Mean Green Bean
To lean on what comes from once being
A solitary fiend or state fully deemed
The TX two step King
In or out of the ring 
Still singing
That robotic moronic esteem
That the job
Is to get a job
In itself is the means
That teams get reamed
While dubbed obscene 
No matter hats, boots, or jeans 
Get cut off from Creme
Even when the guitar rings
A new note or anecdote 
The antidote still stings
Because of a new meaning 
Once much esteemed
Much more than Charley Sheen 
Yet while wheezing
I agree 
That we are all on drugs
Silly me
I say "Oh, geez" 
As life passes in the breeze, 
On bended knees, 
I reach out to my former squeeze, 
If that makes me sound 90, 
I could however find the binding 
Thay brings us back together 
Like a tether ball for leather face
To my disgrace I know I need 2 faces 
Whatever it takes 
And whatever that  was laced with
Still, I know we all can make it
Simply stated 
By G3
art
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Velutinous Lagomorphs-A Halloween Poem

Dreams come clearly as I lie in my bed,
thinking of the creatures alive below me.
I cautiously draw up the comforter edge.
Beneath the mattress,
beneath the sheets,
beneath the platform,
I see them and withdraw quickly.
They are there!
The demons,
the Daimos,
the creatures that scream in my nightmares.
Two of them, living in the dark, dankness under me.
I feel them watching, always watching.
In daylight I gather my courage and chase them,
but they are too quick and simply scurry away into the shadows.
At night they chase me, climbing beneath the covers on my bed,
gently tickling my legs and sniffing my fingers,
just to remind me that they are always there,
always watching, always ready to pounce,
leaving fluffs of demon mane entangling me as I sleep.
If I sleep.
Sleep comes more scarcely each agonizing night.
In my night terrors I open my eyes and see them upon my chest,
their eyes staring
their ears listening,
their long teeth gnashing,
as I feel their warm breath,
slowly, exhaling in my face, teasing me.
They know there is nothing I can do.
My limbs ridged in sleep paralysis,
they taunt me.
My only desire is to rid myself of their presence
and the fear.
Beings of the night, hiding from the sun,
silent and ominous in their ubiety.
I look again and there they remain,
moving with each wisp of breeze.
The horrid sight I see.

The mesmerizing dance of my abhorrent dust bunnies.


09/04/2024

Premium Member Witchy Witch Is So Twitchy

Witchy Witchy is so twitchy
Her colorful broom is also glitchy
They are a team
on Hallows mean

We see them flying high in the midnight sky
And the children scream “We are going to die!”
But wait, says the cat.
Who knows where it’s at.

She is not that bad, just married to a cad.
Hold up! Yells a small warlock. That is my dad!
So, the fight is on.
To the death, and the cat is gone.

The warlock yells, "Down here Mum!"
And witchy witchy heads south to get herself some
Delicious girls
With dark brown curls.

Ugh! They taste awful! She says to her son.
I know, he replies. But I thought it would be fun.
And the girls reattach the limbs she spit out.
They hurry home to tell everyone about…

Witchy witchy and her broom which was twitchy glitchy.
Form: Rhyme


HAPPY PLACE

There was a beautiful place
Lying just below the rainbow
It was called happy place
It wasn't just any old place
It was a place fill with
Children, no adults
The children had some responsivities'
But they mainly laughed and
Played various games all day, they played
Without a care in the world
Because happy place was guarded
By a machine called sunshine and sparkles
They were told never to cut the machine off
Not for any reason, But one day an
Older child appeared at the entrance
He seemed to be badly hurt so
They paused the machine to let
The child inside, even though they
Were told not to ever touch the machine
Once the child was inside, he looked around
With an evil smirk on his face
When they realized that he wasn't hurt at all
They scrambled to turn the sunshine and 
Sparkles machine back on but was to late
The child begins to sing some kind of weird song
And the machine kept cutting off and on
The children began to feel the effects
They weren't happy anymore they were sad
And lonely, the older child seems to gain in power 
And strength by sucking the happiness from 
Their bodies, but one child noticed 
When the machine cut on the stranger loses
His strength, so just as the machine turns off
The young boy, runs into the older stranger and
Knocks him back through the entrance of
Happy place, the machine jumps on and stays
Not allowing the stranger back inside, even though
He made several attempts to get back inside
He stood in front of the entrance and lets out
A scream that could be heard around the world
Then suddenly disappears
© Daisy Ward  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

I Made a Beeline Bustle

Hurriedly enroute to her royal majesty
porcelain goddess throne
whereupon earlier today
March 28th, 2022,
after incomplete defecation
sitting pretty on pissoir,
I jiggled and wiggled posterior

(analogous to performing
the bum bared hustle)
until gasping for breath
though unable to shake loose
dangling dingleberry yours truly
nevertheless synchronously praise zing
a mostly functioning sphincter muscle.

Gross and smelly
as human excrement considered
expelling fecal matter comprises
important function, whereby any unspent
ingested material shunted
thru alimentary canal
then spewed courtesy sphincter vent.

**** lies zing constipation
and/or stubborn stuck drek
nothing to poo poo about,
cuz when bedeviled by
colorectal obstruction,
no matter emetics
applied with bonafide clout
without wasted doubt,
that malodorous, maleficent
malevolent malady
body electric doth flout
analogous to uranus

clogged with grout,
whereat no heroic
efforts break loose,
the severely obstructed bowel,
thus spurring determined,
desperate derriere plea
for proctologist sought
to relieve constipation

equipped with a special
"J" shaped, hooked,
and designed dowel
in an effort
to pry stoppage
if/when yours truly constipated
jamming up human cloaca,
where rock solid stubborn
immovable turd emits foul

gaseous emanations accompanied
with a$$ a nine growl
followed by red hot,
fiery excruciating spasms
shooting jagged pain
inducing yours truly to access,
the werewolf within howl,
where a preference for sciatica,
in place, but my ill luck
regarding aforementioned plight
merely naming said nerve pain
accursed affliction arises

analogous to parasite malefactor thieve
ving would be
equally unpleasant and offer
absolutely zero reprieve
along heinie kin cheeky jowl,
thence finding me
resorting to peeve
hush scream therapy,
which wrought nothing,
no pain did re: leave
me bummed out bum,
but veins snapping,

popping, and crackling,
utmost effort I forcefully heave
oye how aye did grieve
plus a bajillion
gallons of perspiration,
while lower gastrointestinal
agonizing torture didst cleave
entire abdominal
area please believe
without aforementioned crisis,
and feeble poem,
I could not achieve.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sing

We like you the way you are
You can be funny
Serious
Naughty
Bored
Kind 
Or cruel
Be whatever you are, love
Tout the horn 
If you feel like it
Sing
Dance
Scream
What do you feel like doing?
Do you feel like running toward the sky? 
Be our guest
Let us know when you get there, okay?
Remember no one can stop you
Only you can stop you
And God
So run
Cheer
Be awesome
Crazy
Not so awesome
Down
Whatever it is
Just be
You only live once
And this is the one
So kick up your heels
And grab whatever 
And go
Be wild
Be free
Time is on your side
You have tomorrow
Live for today
Don’t let anything stop you, okay?

Premium Member Your tricolor shivers have pierced through me, floral animal from dream and nightmare

Your tricolor shivers have pierced through me, floral animal from dream and nightmare,
You appeared like that, as a truth of mine false, good in its pure evil.
From the lion's tail, the mouse's mouth,
you didn't have everything from nothing, from a bone whole and shattered,
frightening, gentle as a threat, poor, horse without bouquet,
wild stepping on a domestic and untamed plain,
undetermined, in a stain of silent and resounding scream,
a quiet storm, sky from thirst, the closeness of distance,
you, human, poison that also sanctifies itself in blasphemy,
quiet animal from old age, eternally living death,
you kissed me for the first time, recently, never,
sewing my wounds, the plain of resurrection from death,
of weeping from successful joys, ugly treasure...
your hair from curved and straight lines, chest to freeze...
Turmoil of darkness
Unravelings of dead stars, sails have filled me with emptiness then,
traitors of freedom, of pleasure, temporary and eternal fear,
in this summer, useless necessity, one real and imaginary,
with honey on both nostrils and a hot winter, cold as fire,
eternal passing one, serious joke, with single multiple luck,
and evil in moments of eternity, my beautiful ugliness planet,
direct road to make, outside your enveloping interior...
Broken mirror in whole
I am the least from all I have ever been in surplus,
your luminous shadow blinds me with its deep black light.
You, the perfect mistake of heaven,
you are my closest stranger,
my ugliest love, demonic and angelic beauty,
the carnivorous flower that loves through devouring,
your absent presence makes me disappear through appearance,
you are everything from nothing that becomes something from everything without nothing,
a death so alive it births dead lives in me,
the sweet bitter poison that heals me through poisoning...
you are my sweetest torture without pain and pleasure,
my last first encounter with the separation that unites us,
my coldest love, hot as burned ice...
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

My Farmboy

What is this I hear,
My bare-chested horseman drawing near?
He may be a simple farmboy to most,
But he can steal my breath more effectively than any ghost.
You see him all sweaty and bare-chested,
The only one who can ride my anger when it is crested.
He does things to my body,
That is so delicious and naughty.
With a single word he takes me to the farthest stars,
With a single touch he sends me past Jupiter and Mars.
He loves to drive fast,
A demon that will love 'til the last.
He kisses me,
As coolly as the Autumn breeze.
I am the only one who can ride,
His wonderous tide,
Of passion he holds inside.
His muscles alone make me whimper and scream,
He is my hold world, my dream.
When he takes me as his wife,
And we start a new life...
We will ride bareback in the rain,
Yet my hunger for him will never wane.
I will love him throughout my years,
My farmboy who will dry all of my tears.
When we get to the land of Milk and Honey,
Won't it be funny...
To see my beautiful farmboy ride a horse down the street of gold,
Me right beside him no longer a lost soul.

MO:DPS
Form: Rhyme

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