Long Shocked Poems

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


Terror In Belgium, a Pantoum

Again violence shakes our earth
Takes the colours off the light
Dogma and blind faith in no dearth
Floating clouds of born disquiet

Takes the colours off the light
Serial bombs at Brussels airport
Floating clouds of born disquiet
Their suicide bomber’s brutal assault

Serial bombs at Brussels airport
Belgium capital goes into lockdown
Their suicide bomber’s brutal assault
At the headquarter of European Union

Belgium capital goes into lockdown
A repetition of November 13 in Paris
At the headquarter of European Union
All around confusion nightmarish

A repetition of November 13 in Paris
Somewhere a rot in social constitution 
All around confusion nightmarish
Puzzled and shocked we cry for solution


Somewhere a rot in social constitution
Won’t we live in peace and mirth 
Puzzled and shocked we cry for solution
In danger is our home and hearth

Won’t we live in peace and mirth
Dogma and blind faith in no dearth
In danger is our home and hearth
Again violence shakes our earth
___________________________________________
March 24, 2016
Form: Pantoum


Premium Member How Have I Missed Myself

You are so kind she says.
I smirk inside, knowing I am not.
She does not know that I loathe her.
I gloat in my subterfuge.

You are marvelous he says.
I am shocked, never liking anything about myself.
Where does this word come from?
How did it originate in his plebe brain?

You are creative, she says.
I look around; where am I?
What kind of illusion is this?
Who are these people?

You are so in touch with yourself, she says.
I wonder to whom she is speaking.
I turn and look behind me, seeking the source.
Surely these things are not about me.

Do I really have all of these people fooled?
Or is it me that is a confused harlot?
I flit away from the masses and study a reflection in the mirror
Wondering how I have missed this imposter all of these years.

Premium Member The Man Who Loved Pink

.
				His wife wants some black lingerie.
				He'll really surprise her today.
				Hot pink is his fav'rite.
				Oh, how he does sav'r it.
				He struts in his bright negligee!
	
				She's shocked when she sees him this way.
				She screams, "What a Valentine's Day!
				I wanted red roses,
				but here my man poses
				and prances. This is NOT OKAY!"

				She sniffles and gives him a box.
				Inside are some black boots and socks.
				He says, "Black and pink
				look kinky, I think!
				Oh, thanks, Dear. This gift really rocks."

				He does have some roses for her.
				Bynow everything is a blur.
				"Pink roses," she mumbles.
				Toward bed she now stumbles.
				He says, "Wait. I bought you a fur!"

				"It's pink," she responds. "I'm amazed!"
				Her husband is smiling, unfazed.
				"I dyed it for you.
				Don't you love this hue?"
				She stares at him, totally dazed.

				She tells him, "I have to lie down." 
				He says, "Say good-bye to that frown.
				I've fixed up our room			
				and banished the gloom.
				For us, no more drab beige and brown!"

				She enters the room feeling weak
				and turns on the light for a peek.
				She screams when she sees
				bright pink; then she flees.
				For days she's unable to speak.



Date:  December 9, 2018

Contest Title:  Make Me Actually LOL Poetry Contest

Sponsor:  Nina Parmenter
Form: Limerick

for a little slander

for a little slander
The new president of America has told Europe to look after its own defense which means NATO without the USA’s help becomes a boy’s club for retired politicians pretending, they are a fighting force eager to defend Ukraine which can’t be done without dragging without risking a serious world war, they hands are tied since Ukraine s not in NATO, an easy excuse because we know it is not true, but it has not stopped leaders in Europe to hammer their support of Ukraine to get at the Russians although knowing the war could have been avoided but for idiotic policies 
Oh, how Europe’s leaders hugged Ukraine to their hearts delivering money and weapons to what was and is a corrupt regime
How quickly they changed tunes when the USA told the truth, mates you are on your own we will not defend you anymore you are masters in your land and responsible for your own security How sweet it was to my ears spoken by a man we vilify because he wears a tie too long for the snobs in Brussels who has a leader that wears her hair as fashioned like a helmet
After a shocked silence voices were heard but the man was right, we are responsible for our security -silly sods- Suddenly -Ukraine was no longer Europe and must find peace with Russia Spring thawed in February, on Valentine's Day on a day when Macron’s and Obama’s wives exchanged glances 
For us, we were humbled and ignored it was a great day too finally the war is not imminent but we must not forget the clever people in Tel Aviv will find a way to upset the Apple chart
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: ABC

True Destination

Monorhyme Contest
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton

He was a venerable man awaiting his true destination,
mysterious at night, but in the morn’ full of inspiration,
he spoke of good fortune and tranquility with fascination,
every day at noon the town listened with anticipation,
shouted out his decree there’d be an investigation,
many were shocked for they had absolutely no inclination,
apparently some dwellers were protesting his abdication,
most of them understood this is a difficult situation,
so within the silvin territory many faced elimination,
see, he was ancient and immortal before this creation,
no one dared to ask his age, there’d be no explanation,
he was a venerable man awaiting his true destination.


Date Written: May 7, 2016
Form: Monorhyme


Premium Member Tim Ryerson

Missing: Pieces of Me

SPLINTERED HEART 

like a leg severed, ripped loose:
the phantom limb throbs and aches
knowing yet unwilling, unable to accept
that it's only a ghost playing evil pranks

sitting frozen and paralytic
from the weight, the frightful weight
dragging, forcing down the head
welding chin to collarbone...
heavy, crushing feeling on the chest
punishing pressure on the heart
a heart at the point of imploding...

alarm clock crying, screaming:
time warp between sleep and awake
when not yet aware of where one is
not yet aware of what or who one is
a split-second reprieve until----

(oh, it really did happen
oh, I don’t have a leg now
oh, you have been torn loose
taking pieces of me with you)

it has been proven medically:
people with life threatening seizures
can eventually function normally
with half of their brains removed

not so with a splintered heart
not so with half a heart...



~ How can I forget a gently bold spirit that is Tim
 whose poetry brims with verve,
contemporary images, wit, and emotional depth?
While exchanging comments on our posts,
I found out that he stayed in my country during
the war. His anecdotes sparked the beginnings of
a dear friendship that allowed us to connect through
email and facebook. Tim was an erudite poet as
seen through this winning piece in a contest. 
~Knowing his health was becoming frail, he would slip 
in and out of the site, yet quickly responded to most
of us on social media.
When Tim passed on, I was shocked; his demise ...sudden.
I am grateful to have known him up close and personal,
a man of integrity who wanted to revisit our country with
his daughter a year before he finally rested in peace. Salute, Tim!


Anthony Biaasoc's The Uncontest Contest
6/22/2020

Wrist of the Snake Killer

 ( for what its worth. ) 



-- Instruction:  How to know there's nothing left ~ you've over-stayed your visit
   
    I recall the sun of old thoughts seeped under:
    
   ~ How to 'Improve the world' ~ leave something useful behind ~ something better.


    --Instruction:  The first evil act is eating
  
  I see the shocked wine bottles
    steak sauce and
    jutting ribs of celery bunches
    the next shelf
    down

       but if i eat the stings
    of honey bees

    claws
    of the great bear

    follow
    these wild-flower trails up
    into conspiracies of wood

    and whispers

    where all else
    watching following is santified
    by my return

    but men weep weed broken
    sorrow condemned

    See the little beetle there

    safe
    
    crouched in a crusted earth church
    sleeping in a god circle

    only men careen cloudward
    wandering into the gray ends of the world

    Now the old oil lamp bends
    the kitchen dark

    the lines dark
    forms looming
    from the side

    I see myself

    ablaze in the still hours
    before dawn

    it doesn't show on my face though
  
    sad like salt or
    shadow spent

    like ash gone cold

    07/06/01
Form: Elegy

Premium Member IMAGINE A NEW REALITY

I heard Imagine, one of my favorite songs, this Juneteenth morning
and thought how John Lennons’s lyrics and music still ring true….
I suppose that’s because imagining is also one of my favorite things to do.

When I’m shocked and saddened at the hatred and prejudice I see
I imagine a world where people embrace our differences and live together in harmony.

When I look at the greed and selfishness occurring right outside my front door
I image a world where we feed the hungry…and house and clothe the poor.

When I see how we are heartlessly polluting the Earth’s skies, and land and seas
I imagine a world where we live in balance with the rivers, the animals and the trees.

When I think we are too accepting of people’s hate…and wait too long for it to start abating…
I imagine a world where we our love defeats the people who are hating.

Of course you may say I’m a dreamer…but that’s okay with me
because what helps to soothe my heart is knowing I’m in good company

I don’t always have to imagine a better world, however, because when also in front of me
acceptance, love, compassion and kindness are also plain to see.

Every time there’s a natural disaster…as we watch those affected try to cope
I see diverse neighbors and strangers coming together…offering friendship…kindness and hope.

Every time a countries goes to war…after every bomb their planes release…
I see people on both sides coming together in unity…
pleading for harmony and peace.

For every act of prejudice and bigotry that result in sorrow and despairing…
I see random act of kindness…I see empathy, love and caring.

For every sorrow that results from every needless death across this Earth…
there is the joy that fills the air from every newborn baby’s birth.

When I stop to think about the world I’m living…what is so evident to me
is how half the time I am disgusted…and the other half encouraged by what I see…

Which makes me wonder if enough of us dreamers
(for I believe there are more dreamers than haters in the world I see)
If enough of us got together
we could turn our imaginations…into reality,
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member At Heaven's Door

Heaven’s door was not as pretty as I had originally hoped.
I was not repulsed, I was intrigued actually.
I knocked once politely.  No one came.
So I knocked three small knocks.
Nothing.

That’s not the right door, someone said.
I was shocked. How did he now?
His head was wrapped in a big bandage.
I followed him in spite of my reservations.

He had found a bigger brighter, shinier door.
He knocked and promptly disappeared.
I knocked and 
nothing…..

Several other doors were found.
Keep trying! An angel yelled to me. You are doing great.
Everyone has their own door!
This was amazing to me.
Form: Narrative

The Cost of Revenge, Part Ii

“It was a race
going to my place,
our emotions out of control,
went for the bed
and my lust-filled head
focused only on it’s one goal.

“Our clothes were tossed,
they were soon half-off
when she froze and gave me a stare,
In all my time
never had my mind
ever gazed upon such despair.

“Her face a fright,
she cried,’It ain’t right!’
Then she leapt up and grabbed her shirt.
I didn’t move,
I was so confused,
made no move to go after her.

“When she ran out
it left me in doubt,
had I done something I should not?
I pondered it,
but gained not a whit,
didn’t matter how hard I thought.

“I’ll plainly say
all of the next day
it weighed heavily on my mind,
so I went home
to my flat alone
and was shocked by what I did find:

“A woman there
with long, graying hair,
gad broken in and taken a seat.
She did smile,
but it seemed vile,
and was directed straight at me.

“She said,’Hello,
myself you don’t know,
though your father knew me quite well.
Alas, he’s dead,
so I choose instead
to bring his son a living hell.’ “

“I was quite lost,
but then she popped off,
‘Don’t you know I was his mistress?
And you dead dad
did something quite bad,
he gave me his damn syphilis!

“ ‘It played its part
and destroyed his heat,
but it was far too late for me.
But much, much worse
then my own damn hurt,
it got passed on to our baby!

“ ‘It’s doomed her life,
and it’s just not right,
since he promised to leave his bride,
but oh, he failed,
and let me to wail
left both of us alone to die.

“ ‘Could not strike him,
but he still has kin,
two children that he proudly claimed,
So my revenge
to his son I send,
soon, like me, you’ll be insane.

“ ‘See my daughter,
you’re so fond of her
that you surrendered to your lust.
And syphilis
is so relentless,
now you are just as doomed s us!’ “

“She cackled hate,
it all snapped in place;
the girl I’d met the night before!
It all made sense,
why from me she went
running frantically out the door!

“A half-sister,
what I’d done with her…
and the line that we’d almost crossed…
Then the way she
had chosen to flee,
showed that her conscience was not lost.

“It all unfurled,
the familiar curls,
my little sister had them too!
And in her grin,
and her sculpted chin…
I knew all I'd been told was true...

CONTINUES IN PART III.
Form: Epic

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