Long Seeped Poems
Long Seeped Poems. Below are the most popular long Seeped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Seeped poems by poem length and keyword.
Listening to songs, through the ages of rock,
Some bands owned a gold timbred vocal stamp.
Like the new noise in ‘68, Led Zep’s power frontman,
The enigmatic absolute tenor, Robert Plant.
The original baritone rocker, Jim Morrison sang love,
Sang it before anyone else dared or could.
The Doors opened the doors to millions of lovers,
Jim’s voice seeped through my whole childhood.
And then there was the jaggeresque of Mick Jagger,
Classic rock not defined by tenor or baritone.
Fans knowing him simply didn’t know music,
And folks knowing music didn’t care for the Stone.
Then, bang, Bon Scott, charisma, wit and talent,
Overshadowing Brian Johnson, when on stage.
Singing the fury of the teenagers, singing with frenzy and fame,
In a passionate, maniacal rage.
And Joan Jett was Joan Jett before we knew of Joan Jett,
The rocker who loved rock and roll.
And the same with Roger Waters and the rest of the Floyd,
When, to the sun, they’d set their control.
I loved John Lennon’s thoughts on love and peace,
And Fogerty’s bold extrovert abrasive voice.
But outshining each of these singers there’s one that shone brightest,
To me, there’s only one choice.
Freddie’s quicksilver voice descended to rumbling depths
Before soaring to impossible heights.
He owned the stage, he did rock us to trance,
The ultimate rocker, leading in shiny black tights.
I have followed
many a rainbow;
as with that illusive
dream have tried
to hold on~ so, one
morning, as the
sun was rising, a beam
I planned to capture--
thinking some light
a thing everyone should
own...my ultimate plan
like Peter's shadow sown
I finalized my scheme
with a Wendy Seam:
But light seeped out
the bottles glass...
and the bars of a cage
just as easy to pass...
trying to grasp
far too fast; exhausted
I attempted to sleep:
came visions of fireflies
and stars endless deep~
giving it my best
I gave out a shout,
but nothing I did or said
could put those blinking
dang lights
out....
Some get hooked on poetry
By reading Robert Frost
Or Dickinson or Poe
Or others whom their paths have crossed.
In college I read Coleridge,
Byron, Shelley,Whitman, Pound,
T.S. Eliot and Wordsworth,
All in Norton’s, nicely bound.
But in truth, what got me started
Was less lofty, though enticing –
More like turning from the cake
So I could focus on the icing.
For my intro into rhyming
(If you don’t count Mother Goose),
Were the silly stories written
By that master, Dr. Seuss.
I was lifted and delighted
By each word upon each page;
Though he also drew the pictures,
It was language that engaged.
Every rhyme and all the rhythm
Seeped by suction to my veins
And they flowed into the depths
Where the important stuff remains.
So to Dr. Seuss I owe a debt.
He changed the way I’m wired
And I wonder if he realized
All the poets he inspired.
The field is given a name.
Battles are about where they disappear,
the ones that walk away
don't know where the hell they are.
There’s a cannon ball under that Yew tree,
there’s a skull under that Ash.
There’s a hank of dried up hair
over there, woven into stone and moss.
After the blood, peace continues destroying barns,
insignia and belt buckles fished out and sold.
Excavated jawbones order and counter-order.
The officers that staggered away
go quietly mad, or marry well.
Surviving hell takes
a lot of stump-footed foraging.
The maimed tell their jerrybuilt tales,
cracked rockers creek along
the slipways of generations.
Hounds bayed at coons.
in the hot afternoons;
that was before the earth gaped open,
before the gore seeped sideways
into the earths wounds.
Good Generals and bad
have had their deadly play,
this scattering and salvage
of the blue and grey that day.
I noticed that
even in death
lilies held beauty,
arched to one side,
white petals
glistened in the light
There were poems
in their drooping folds.
I reached into a void.
They cascaded
onto my fingers,
draping velum
across my hands.
Words seeped
into my skin
filling my veins,
they flooded my form.
A thousand sighs of awe
fell from my lips.
In wonder I wandered
fretless into a
glowing night,
a flush of bumps
migrate over my body
I shivered anticipation.
Cool summer air
brushed my face
as I turned
to a bright sky
whose full glowing disc
haunted my eyes
with flickering glory
I closed my eyelids
as I found the poems
suddenly lodged
in my throat.
They spilled
from my mouth
and gushed
over a silent
empty field.
I stood still
for moments,
maybe hours,
eyes shut,
lips moving,
mind unpeeling.
Opening my eyes
in the witching hour
I had finally
become free of words
and in astonishment
discovered that
even in death
lilies had found
lustre in the
long grass.
Through me
they had floated free
into another blush
inspiring the hopeless
with the gift
of a night in word.
Now eternally flowering
they will forever
curl their leaves
within my rhyme.
He is living on the breadline, He is cold and hungry with no support line. Money comes in and slips through his hands a capital version of hourglass sands. The hunger used to drive him but now he is weak. The cold has seeped through to his bones, we wonders and drifts looking for somewhere to call home.
Once he was a soldier he stood proud and tall and no body told him that pride comes before a fall. He fell and he fell too many miles to count. he injured his leg and the army kicked him out.
The breadline stands between him and his life the life that was lost because he cant pay his way out. The stress ate him up in its endless starvation along with the rest of the breadline nation.
As the golden sun rays
Seeped into my room
From the cherry sky
In a spell of crimson reverie
I saw…
On the table a bed of
Resplendent rose
In the bowl of boiled eggs
Scintillating strawberries
In the glass of milk
Winsome wine
All I consumed
With dreamy delight.
As I went out
I saw…
Leaning on the wall stood
My old bicycle
With watermelon wheels
I took a fantasy ride through
The hot summer wind
Parching me to the core
As the wheels turned
The sweet juice sprinkled
And I drank the pink delicacy
At the journey’s edge of fancy.
______________
June 29, 2022
Contest : A Watermelon Fantasy Ride To
Feed My Imagination
Sponsored by : Mystic Rose Rose
Written: June 22, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Poisonous toxin flowed into my veins.
transmitting a cold, apathetic nihilism.
We stumbled off the trail, you idiotic humans.
Our once-cherished pride is broken as a prism.
Once we stood tall, our heads held high,
With hearts filled with hope and dreams,
But then came the venom, spreading through,
Tainting our souls, ripping at the seams.
The poison, akin to a serpent's bite,
Injected into our utter core,
Slowly consuming our sense of purpose,
Leaving us empty, longing for something more.
Oh, foolish humans, we were blind,
To the danger that lurked so near,
We danced with demons, unaware,
Of the venomous poison we'd soon fear.
It seeped through our veins
As a river of darkness and despair,
Draining us of joy and leaving only pain,
An emotionless nihilism, we couldn't bear.
Our once vibrant spirits turned to ash,
As the venom slowly took control,
Our laughter turned to hollow cries
Echoing through the depths of our soul.
We tried to fight, to resist its grip,
But the poison was too strong, too deep,
It wrapped around us as a suffocating shroud,
Leaving us lost, unable to sleep.
Prognosticating Present Plight...
Perhaps Preset During In Utero Protean Stage?
Reviewing, sans my life
and arduous hard time
lock, stock, and barrel on regular basis,
and of late composing
this, that, or another rhyme,
now I acquiesce past
trials and tribulations
contributed positive, and
negative effects, yes prime
air really prepubescent nexus
with entering seventh grade,
sobbing and crying at bedtime
leaving Henry Kline Boyer,
a miserable yet sentimental clime,
one romper room class schoolhouse
entering Methacton, what seemed
crushingly, frightfully, incredibly humongous
(actually, not an exceptionally large
learning place for hippo campus)
nonetheless mine fragile psychological
state cannibalized by anthropophagus
mailer daemons conjurations analogous
to mythological beasts avaricious
even slim picking morsel - satisfactory,
this then overwrought extremely anxious
bundle of nerves burning with arsonous
punishing self treason backlash atrocious
reaction kindling tindered
self destructive spark rampantly autonomous
ruinously, quintessentially passively,
opportunistically audacious
hell bent on mortal kombat
to a starving slow seditious death,
this no matter auspicious
native intelligence, capability, aptitude...
now entertain notion
suicidal seed avaricious
since...commencement when fertilized ova
simultaneously begat barbarous
biological blastula birthing blasphemous
counterproductive stealthy burglarious
itty bitty kamikaze blitzkrieg
spewing, issuing, and garnering
hollow weaning cadaverous
sole son foretelling calamitous
alarming father and mother
necessitated immediate intervention,
the instinctual innate calculus
attuned to soundless clangorous
foretelling stoppable death knell
relieved, through aggressive copious
life saving measures, nonetheless deleterious
repercussions hobbled me, disastrous
behavior seeped into lifelong existence!
Trick – or - Treat
In my armchair
By the fire
I drifted off to sleep
Down and down and down I fell
Into a well so deep
While outside the shadows
Of the night began to creep
Along the ground
Among the leaves
That whirled and twirled and leaped
Then - suddenly
I was awakened
By a rap tapping on my door
And woke up so bewildered
In a place
I had never been before
As monsters seeped
Out through the cracks
Across the hardwood floor
I screamed and screamed
Until I lost my voice -
And then I
Screamed some more
I watched in horror
From the ceiling
Where from a rope I hung
From a chandelier
Above their jagged teeth
And drooling tongues
Then I saw one slither
Up the stairs
And through the rungs
And when he finally
Grabbed me
I felt my last breath
Leave my lungs.
I saw myself
Below me
When the monster
Threw me to the floor
Where upon
They all joined in
To eat a feast
Of human smorgasbord
On legs and arms and torso
They gorged and gorged and gorged
Leaving just my head
Insanely grinning
Like a pumpkin gourd
An then I heard a rap a tap
A rap a tapping at the door
And woke up screaming
In a daze
Just where I was before
And through the window
I could see them
Behind those faces
That they wore
Monsters - screaming! Trick or treat
It’s Halloween once more
Happy Halloween
Love, Lainie