Long Screams Poems

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


Madness To The Method

They dressed me in dust and called it a uniform,
Handed me thunder stitched in steel,
Told me the sky breaks different
When you pull the trigger.

I was nineteen,
Still dreaming in my mother’s accent,
Still soft in the places
They'd soon carve into callous.

War, they said, was order—
A hymn of strategy and sweat,
A chessboard with bones for bishops
And pawns that bleed.

But I watched boys burst like overripe fruit,
Watched a man try to pack his insides back in,
Fingers fumbling like he’d dropped his keys,
The lock already gone.

We marched through villages
That smelled of burnt hair and children's toys,
And I learnt that silence
Has many screams beneath it.

There is no glory in a crater.
No justice in a bootprint.
Just the cold arithmetic of survival:
You breathe, or you don’t.

They taught us to paint targets
On anything that moved wrong,
Like humanity was a colouring book
And we’d run out of gray.

I shot a man once.
He looked surprised.
Like he had just remembered something—
His daughter's name,
The soup cooling on the stove.

And the method?
It was madness polished to procedure.
A doctrine etched in blood
And laminated in lies.

Now, at night,
I still hear the cadence of gunfire,
A lullaby in Morse code.
Sometimes I hum along.

Because there’s a rhythm to ruin,
A beat to the breaking.
And once you’ve danced in that tempo—
God help you—
You never stop hearing the song.


Premium Member Evil Wanders Unseen

At midnight each Halloween
scary scenes fill nightmare dreams.
And evil wanders unseen
lurking near the sound of screams.

Stepping outside of the box
I pondered on the undead.
And why zombies take these walks
filling hearts with fear and dread.

Freed from their graves, they're hidden
amidst the shadows of light.
And dine upon forbidden
morsels garnered from the night.

The breaking of nature's rules
spurs supernatural fears.
And motivates these foul ghouls
to be harbingers of tears.

With their moldy flesh rotting,
they feel no pleasure or pain.
And despite all their plotting,
they'll never live again.

An empty shell with no soul,
hunger drives these demon spawn.
For when they crawl from their hole,
it's live brains they feast upon.


(Quatrain)


10/3/2015
Form: Quatrain

Silent Reckoning

I hate to hear your silent voice,  
a whisper caught in the hollow of my chest,  
where echoes of unspoken words linger,  
like shadows dancing in the fading light.  
I hate to know that this is what love really does,  
a tender trap, a gentle snare,  
binding my heart with threads of longing,  
while silence stretches like an infinite horizon,  
each moment a reminder of what’s unsaid.

If I had not set my foot here,  
in this landscape of uncharted feelings,  
I would not mind the steep,  
the jagged cliffs of uncertainty,  
the abyss yawning wide beneath my soul.  
But I have, oh, I have been hurled  
into the deep—  
where the waters churn with unvoiced fears,  
where love's currents pull and twist,  
dragging me under, gasping for breath.

I cannot enjoy the tranquil,  
the calm that settles after the storm,  
to speak without moving my lips anymore—  
it’s a bittersweet paradox,  
a language woven in the fabric of silence,  
where every glance, every sigh,  
carries a weight too heavy to bear.  
I am caught in this odd indulgence,  
this delicate dance of the unsaid,  
where words slip through my fingers,  
like grains of sand,  
and all that remains is the ache of knowing.

I hate this silence,  
this stillness that screams louder than thunder,  
each heartbeat a reminder,  
each breath a question unanswered.  
Yet here I stand,  
drenched in the heavy fog of our unspoken truths,  
searching for the light that flickers  
in the depths of your quiet gaze,  
wondering if love is meant to be a roar or a whisper,  
a wild tempest or a soothing lullaby.
Form:

The Two Brothers, Lemmy and Remi

There were two of them
Lemmy and Remmy...
Two leaders born 
Born of destiny

The weight of government 
Must rest on the shoulders 
Of Lemmy and Remmi 
Israe-el and Leki

One king the other kingsman
One immortalized one mortal

There is no telling them apart but
Leki has a scar on his back.. yet
Others claim Israe-el has a scar too

When mama called out to Israe-el
He faced his mama who realized
The folly for faced her Leki...

A heated exchange outside the mall
Israe-el has Leki vexed..
And now its an all out war..
Israel tries to use the katana 
fails to wield it in its full power

Leki takes the sword lifts it, it thunders
And katana glint of silver comes alive
Down Israe-el... brevity in moment
Then Leki realizes what he has done

DADDY!! DADDY!!! screams Leki
I  have killed my bro .. DADDY!!!!

A slight rain covers the land..
Leki sobbing uncontrollably
A slight stir did i see, did i..
He is alive Leki!!... He lives

Far be it from you Leki
To ever put out the lantern
For in Israe-el is the lantern

The sword of Israe-el now
Belongs in the custody
The custodians seers 

Leki you realized katana..
Katana glint of silver 
You are extra powerful
Shouldn't be held lightly

Remmy  na Lemmy 
Abuja doesn't feed on manna..
That why the boom and boom
Is alive boom boom are drums

Drums of war for Lemmy doesn't
Doesn't live on manna... ABUJA






CODE 254
Mselah 0922hrs
LKN
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Oh, the Grief, the Stabbing --

  
Grief penetrates a person with untold,
pain and sorrow, a life lost, ever cold;
the puncture, the piercing permeates deep,
a thick mask hides the truth that comes in sleep.

I want to shout loud with booming screams,
memories and sadness swirl in my dreams;
I am empty, alone in my torment,
aching, bursting with sad disappointment.

On my knees, I ask God, when will this end?
When will this shattered heart finally mend.


________________________________
February 28, 2015


Poetry/Rhyme/Oh, the grief, the stabbing --
Copyright Protected 02-645-372-28
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France

Entered in the Standard contest, Pierced, 
sponsor Rob Carmack, N/A, Judged 03/2015
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Seeking Black

SEEKING BLACK

A worn out time machine goes frightfully awry,
Instead of arriving in Victorian era, I land with a bump,
In a dark, deep, dingy, wet, smelly cave, tried to spy!
Recognized Greek mythology, Medusa be kind to me!
I hear screams, a shadow of head and snakes I see,
Think back, don’t’ look, you’ll turn to stone, a black lump! 

Perseus my handsome Greek hero, where are you,
Come this way soon, if not, for me there will be sorrow.
She screams like a wild beast, will my fate be like the few?
Suddenly I see Perseus with a shield and a sword,
Shines his shield in Medusa’s face, hits the desired chord,
Chops head with bloody sword, machine and I will see morrow!

For Deep and Dark Poetry Contest (Lu Loo)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Monster-In-Law To Be

I have a monster-in-law to be     
She’s my boyfriend’s  mommy
She forced her son to join the military
‘Til his gait was no longer like a lady

I’ve witnessed many times her monstrosity
She screams like having tantrums in a family
She brags  my mom and aunt her dowry
She insists,  she and her one only son like me

At home, she doesn’t like cat or puppy
She wants people to do all things  perfectly
She criticizes her maid’s cleaning and laundry
As if, she’s chief of self-enforcing constabulary

She reminds me and her son to get marry
And wedding rite will be at ritzy  hotel of their city
Whenever I suggest to have a simple reception or party
With her bulging eyes, she stares hard at me

I was quite scared  and worry
When she said, we’ll  stay  with her til we’ve a baby
So, I talked to my Lieut. Lovadababee
To push through our plans in two years or three    ;)

©2015Leonora Galinta
 All Rights Reserved



Sept. 27, 2015    9.25pm      


-this was not entered in the contest... late in few minutes;) my second try of monorhymes. some are fictions;)
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Monorhyme

The Devils Delight

As a breath 
of butterflies wings,
your touch 
lights my soul to fire,
Aching, 
for a quivered delight,
just a reach away 
,
The heady brush 
of tongue and skin,
draws to cold sliver’s 
of shivered moans,
Heating to boil 
over passions end,
and into ecstasy’s hold


Envelop me in ruby layers
of gossamer heat,
tattooing your name
bone deep,
branding my soul,
to an eternal embrace
of melded spirits


Spooned heat
finding unity,
the burning tracks
of lust
blaze my spirit,
lighting all heavens,
touching the profound, 
in gentle whispers
of gasping screams


And in graced pieces
I return to earths fold,
enlightened
being of love,
in a devils hold

Premium Member Bad Dreams

Each night my fears all come to life 
inside my terror dreams
They chase me and confuse me 
where no one hears my screams
Repeatedly, I run and hide 
from them without success
No matter how I try 
they always find me nonetheless

Scenarios inside my head 
which I sometimes create
Stories which I fear are visions 
of my unknown fate
I try escaping from them 
but they all know where I live
They hunt me without mercy 
my dreams do not forgive

Like pieces of a puzzle
that never really fit
Or thoughts I have in waking hours 
I will not admit
Monsters, demons every night 
I fight them in my bed
Scenes of death and horror
the ones which I most dread

At times I know I’m dreaming 
and force myself to wake
I realize my terror dream
is really just a fake
But then the night time comes again 
and when I close my eyes
I’m lost again inside a world 
where nothing will surprise
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Tightie Whities

What should I write, what do you think
How's about tightie whities
The kind that get most women all worked up
Divesting themselves of their nighties

Even if you plead you have a headache
She's in no condition to listen
Those tightie whities are driving her crazy
Down below she starts to go fishin'

All of a sudden your headache disappears
Now it's you who's all gung ho
You yell out “tally ho, ride 'em cowboy”
She screams bloody murder “woo ho”

That continues for thirty-eight seconds
Then collapsing exhausted on the floor
You scream out “got a cramp in my leg”
She yells, “I want more, I want more, I want more!”

Think to myself that's the very last time
It's polka dot boxers from now on
Tightie whities will be the death of me
At my age, ain't got that long


Ha... a fairy tale!!!

© Jack Ellison 2013
Form: Quatrain

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