Long Siren Poems
Long Siren Poems. Below are the most popular long Siren by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Siren poems by poem length and keyword.
Imagine your God's Eye view of Earth
blue-green revolving
around sunlight
under vaporous clouds;
dark shadowed nights
of windblown dynamite white silence
gusting and waning
Disturbed by city lights
and siren screams of inhumane terror.
From here
looking down my nose
breathing in and out, such perfect opportunity
my divine response
admires change, dynamic living systems
of sentient life, effluent causing
and effecting affluently holistic climax,
affectively self-perpetuating
self-rewarding Beauty
through wealthy resonance
of communal energies.
Living color, loving cultures
win/win prophetic meaning, moaning
ethological whispers of longing, health
biologically purposed wealth, intrinsic
within and upon sustaining Earth ecology,
Reasons for humane left deduced theology
and divine right global geology
secular/sacred, natural-spiritual world history
of JusticeTruth and BeautyRight relationships, equivocal Peace
deductive/inductive reflecting and unfolding
precessive/recessive feelings, effluently affluent health
emerging recreative beauty
Bicameral co-presence, bilateral ego/eco
health/wealth consciousness
out and in
nurtured and enspirited
through MindSight symphonic voices
of synchronic green-blue Earth
stereophonically revolving below
heavenly above,
Before I re-emerge
as same old mortal Ego ZeroZone,
fully sensate becoming
ZeroSoul re-identified,
This Here/Now one ZeroSum energy democracy
EarthTribe resident
of living permeable double-boundaries
ergodic
dynamic
synergetically Both/And
integral polyculturing feelings, communions
blue-green unsilenced
full rainbow felt resiliently organic
ego/eco dynamic effluence, co-gravitating
full of affluent spectral grace,
becoming left/right immanent sensory pace
uncovering Health as Beauty
slow-growing ecopolitical integrity awareness
Where creative beauty-wealth Rights
are always win/win healthy Lefts.
Is it for pleasure or for pain?
to see what lingers in her veins.
to watch it spill across her chest,
cherishing the scars that are left..
it's not normal the way she begs for each incision ,
She silent as she feels steel on skin and blackness clouds her vision.
She really wants this so what, She's "damaged".
Baby in this life you play the cards that you've been handed.
Like a siren sings for her lost sailor, her beauty a disguise.
He found himself trapped within the hell fire of her eyes,
He'd been at her mercy when he first saw her within the sheets,
Begging for him to hurt her as she groveled at his feet.
She was a different kind of submissive,
He wouldn't have believed it had he not witnessed.
She arched under the canopy the sheets a crimson red,
She was exotic and alluring, Her Demons needing to be fed.
She's Shivering on the bed but this time she looks too calm,
that cut looks too deep... he took her in his arms.
he felt sick... "baby? Are you okay?" He starts to panic
her eyes closed, Chest rising slow, He wonders if she'd planned it
He shook his head and knew that all of this had gone too far..
"My love?" He whispered helplessly as he stared at all of her scars..
Her pale cream skin was littered with long streaks of mutilation
He shook her hard "Baby, please!"
How did he give into her temptation?!
How can you heal the wounded when they enjoyed the pain,
Could you bring yourself to stop? When she Whispers your name....
Form:
Around the wet corners of summer
In the alleys of scooter-revving Paris
11 at night
A back light herd of red eyes
Bull-rush Champs-Elysees
Parting for an ambulance
Its siren wobbling like a half-drunk soprano
Sobbing a song
While a man in tuxedo
Is breaking plates on the cobblestone
For our attention to the menu inside
An invitation crushed in a shattered pile
At his heel
“Come come le Monsieur Escargots for Madame!”
We say ok
Which seems to delay further smashing
“Americans” he says under his breath
Smiling
He takes her hand from mine
Leads her over a threshold
Smeared in rain and streetlight Peonies
I am left the choice to follow
My wife
The attention the commotion
“I can see your love is unbreakable.” He winks
Nudging our chairs upstairs to the white-clothed table
A silver carafe of water
Sweating at the center of fine china
I hold her hand
We cut and stab the dinner
While the city outside argues
Through the unlatched wooden shutters
The man
Resuming his lullaby crashing.
Peach-pinched beachcombers
enter the scene
with sugary-sun splashes,
darkened sunglasses.
Beautiful Bahamas
with pink sand beaches
and the gully wash
that ebbs and flows, sweetens
her veins with serendipitous warmth,
tantalizes his bushwacker brain.
Foraminifera of her cheeks,
her wet towel beneath.
Horseshoe bay smiles,
waves them in
with its turquoise siren-sea and
blushing granules.
Bahama mama runs
as if she’s a Bay Watch babe.
To the one who embraces
her intoxicating hand,
she is the embodiment
of a precious shell in his palm.
Does he feel the sun…
smell the salty air?
He feels the heat indeed,
tastes the salty air she breathes —
She is the Bahamas to him.
He crashes the island
of her flowery towel.
His lips envelope
his piña colada.
9/22/2020
the night is dark
man in the moon disembark
awful chilling and spooky
b o o , b o o ... soupy
no one in sight
even under bright
old street lamp light
daunted and stark
black cat in the park
old owl yon hark
melodies meadow lark
jet siren echo
chirping geckos
along the eaves
full of wet leaves
in the distance
coexistence
lethal bald eagle
loud in gleeful
ever peaceful
frogs and doggies bark
leave a soggy mark
scarecrow in stitches
monsters in britches
broomstick hurls its witch
over devils ditch
ghost do boast
bats hang undermost
thumping pumpkins
dancing munchkins'
ugly and mean
all convene for Halloween
10/31/2020
Children Story
The guards said I couldn't make it
But, there's one not talking now.
He not talking now.
They’ll find him in the morning
When you hear that siren howl.
I've been running through the bushes,
Through the canyons and the trees.
Through the trees.
I've been running for my life baby.
I've been running to get free.
I'm riding on the night train,
The bus just takes too long.
Just too damn long.
No body there can know me
But the engine knows my song.
I’m going down Colorado.
Two days and I’ll be there.
Coming there.
I gots to find you woman,
Run my fingers through your hair.
Keep out of sight babe,
Stay low until I come.
I promised I’d come.
I’ll be knowin’ where to find you
If you keeps your porch light on.
Now they got those bright lights on me
But the lights they're turning black.
Slowly turning black.
I ain’t going’ back to Chino,
Got a bullet in my back.
Now if you see sweet Angeline,
Softly tell her that I'm done.
My freedom’s done.
But though my broken heart ain’t beatin’,
My soul keeps running on.
He never knew which woman she would be when she arrived.
Angel or devil? Sexy siren or sad, morose, angry imp? Little girl lost?
She was a Gemini, so there were other personalities, of course.
She was mercury, sliding and slipping through her personas.
One of the main reasons he loved her was her adventurous sides.
Angel was sweet, tender, delicate, enthusiastic about everything.
She had a laugh that curled his toes and the sides of his mouth.
She was not as eager to play the games he liked, but that was okay.
Devil aka sexy siren was something else. She wore a trench coat.
He never knew if there would be something purple and silky
or nothing at all, under that coat with its ugly eight buttons.
Sexy siren put him through his paces, and he loved that!
Tonight he suspected she was sad, angry imp. She came in frowning.
He took a few steps back. He was a bit afraid of this one.
The last time she’d been here, she had destroyed a mirror and a bookcase.
Angry imp glared at him hard. He gasped. Then she took off her coat……
(This is the image of a semi urban city of India)
The glow of a late Autumn Sunset,
Gleams over the dense city streets.
Rushing wheels and honking horns,
Halt awhile for the traffic signs.
Through the rows of rushing motors,
Men on bikes plough their way.
They squish and squeeze through every gap,
Caring a naught for the traffic rules.
With jarring siren, the Ambulance van,
Speeds past for emergency aid.
The patient inside, in writhing pain,
Lies stressed on every hurdle raced.
Ladies holding children in hands,
And people bent with growing age,
Remain planted at the zebra cross,
Waiting to move to the opposite side.
As the tired people back from work,
Hurry away to reach their homes,
The jovial band in easeful mood,
Treads towards the city parks.
Fortune tellers with their Tarot cards,
Hold their clients in great suspense,
The street hawkers on tiled pavements,
Squat beside their cheap merchandise.
Scores of men who tread on foot,
Grow to Hundreds in a short awhile,
These are folks right from the show,
The Block buster has drawn hoards of men.
When young Dandies in tawdry dress,
Dally round with their ladies love,
Street urchins in tattered clothes,
Go searching in the garbage pile.
While decrepit old beggars lie drowsy,
On the cement benches in wayside shelters,
The affluent Sahibs in plush restaurants,
Feast on their cocktail dinners.
The city thus with its motley crowd,
Paints life in contrast shades,
For Fortune, with her alluring charms,
Favours a few and leaves the rest.
Rocks off baby on a Saturday night,
cause I’ve never felt so alive,
you and me baby, gonna do it up right,
sonna touch you deep down inside.
Get down woman in a sexy ol’ groove
so I feel your skin at my touch,
one last call so let’s go take it all,
cause I never can get enough,
Baby you can do know wrong,
when you sing that siren song,
what we got’s lust at first sight,
so get your rock off baby on a Saturday night.
One glance woman and I knew you were mine
‘cause you got so under my skin,
dance all evening ’cause I’m taking my time,
let me know when you want to begin.
See that smile and I know that your hot,
that you want in as bad as me,
steal on off as the party rolls on,
they won’t even know were’ missing.
Baby let me taste you taste,
woman make me loose my faith,
open up and let’s take flight
and get your rocks off baby on a Saturday night.
Morning comes and we lie here in bed,
drained from all that we’ve done,
smell like sweat but you look like a queen
basking in the mid-morning sun,
Even sober I’m still digging on this,
so your name girl, I gotta know,
you just grin and your fingers fly
as you tap it on into my phone.
Slightl, sly smile as you walk away,
stays with me all through the day,
made this weekend out-of-sight,
we got our rocks off baby on a Saturday night.
a practiced smile on her face
a mother’s oenomel breath puffs wind under gossamer wings
reminiscent of the translucent wings of green lacewings—
mistaken for a pest, but beneficial—
to strike out and explore a thorny world
resisting the siren call of spring’s scent
turning their heads with songs of love
emerging personalities
unravel the cocoon spun in love
as naiveté fragmentises into bluster
a mother unobtrusively dries tears
desiring a moral code of empathy towards all
the sweet fragrance of pride
a tantalising selection between
intrinsic values and
natural curiosity—
concomitant heartbeat tempos to dog-eared sheet music of ambition
culminating in Life’s crescendo
natural selection, be damned
as recalcitrant offspring echoes eons of mitochondrial resilience