Long Sirens Poems
Long Sirens Poems. Below are the most popular long Sirens by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sirens poems by poem length and keyword.
They are testing the sirens
the ones that warn of tornados and such.
No sirens wailed
when the industrial unit blew up
in a ball of fire. Too sudden,
you can here that wind-train coming
but a loose spark in a petroleum tank
should convince us
that we rarely hear death
until the bodies catch fire.
I's going to be a fresh sunny day
but later
strong winds from the north
might take some breaths away
and never return them.
Suddenly out of a clear sky
we hear the screech of ghost trains.
the local theme park has had
an accidental mishap,
some kids are heroically saved
some go missing
carried away by a north wind
that has yet to arrive.
No one is like unto thee
Ethereal goddess of mystery
Of your voice do sirens envy
Only to find themselves unworthy
From you lips rapture of bliss
To hearts of men, a sacred kiss
Virgin passion feeds my soul
Fainting, breathless, ecstasy, all
Beautiful excellence of shimmering light
Exudes from your being as darkness does night
In my conscience you abide
Your home within me angelic guide
Through love, joy, sorrow, grief
Your voice compels me, I find relief
Your courage conveyed upon me strong
Your strength instilled through lyric and song
Beautiful woman that graces the earth
God blessed the day upon your birth
To Florence Welch
Sirens call to follow
Awaken midnight
Walls of sound burst at the seams
Scream loud on the traffic scene
Clogged arteries of streets open wide
An ambulance passes by
Drivers hide in alleys in vehicles
Stuck with others unpleasantly
Carried in the back are people
Airwaves broadcast emergency!
At a crosswalk struck by a car
The dearly departed part
No matter what the signal says
Reds, yellowed by the sight of trouble
Turn green at every intersection blinked
Torn apart, alarmed by men in white
A spirit lifts from a body lightly
Drifts into a box enhanced by silence
Souls have nowhere to go but home
Trains clatter on distant tracks in fog
Through mountain tunnels with lust
Intermittent whistles signal than fade
Through smoke stacks to penetrate
Waiting for Freud to say something
Sometimes a tunnel is just a tunnel
A light at the end of which spells trouble
Realization
Fear is cancer’s preservative,
As Embalming fluid to the living.
And you, oh accuser,
Are fear’s embalming salesman.
You are a snake,
Paradox bound.
Wrapped around the rod that binds you,
Depraved.
Attempting to free itself from its own fault.
Deceiving and deluding all who come near,
Nothing but a false symbol of repose.
Biding its time until the sirens sound.
Grace
I don’t need to focus on death,
Studying it and its slow progression.
Its course is clear already,
But when death is circling close.
That is when redemption finally feels closer,
That’s when Jesus’s glory steps in.
It is a mighty rushing wind,
Quick and frightening
Ever so fierce to eradicate,
The sickness of chains ever going.
I want to be watching for that glory,
To set my boy free from this purgatory.
Resolution
So here we are,
The air is emptier without his laugh.
But yet our hearts are full,
Though, with a different drink.
Now this ride that I was on is now silent,
So we sit here in this new silence.
And long for the music to start again,
And for the disc to spin again.
Even if it means going round and round for years,
At least I would be moving.
And he would be laughing in heaven,
But in this space.
His silence is because he is drawing his breathe,
And now I know love.
Empty and full, all in one moment.
I succumb not to thee; to this mast I shall stay bound
As yonder lie lost souls of unjust blood, and gore alas
Play victim to sirens songs and lyres, nor be drowned
This ship will sail sharpen rocks, allow not an impasse
As yonder lie lost souls of unjust blood, and gore alas
As sirens with lyres continue, in their so unholy quest
This ship will sail sharpen rocks allow not an impasse
My sailors' ears dulled by wax, heeds not thy request
As sirens with lyres continue in their so unholy quest
With arms and hands to oars, waves broken succumb
My sailors' ears dulled by wax, heeds not thy request
As in competition the siren's lyre strings more strung
With arms and hands to oars waves broken succumb
And forewarned sailors to their calls shall they defeat
As in competition the siren's lyre strings more strung
With intentions that with your death you should meet
And forewarned sailors to their calls shall they defeat
To pass yonder this island, where siren’s cast their ail
With intentions that with your death you should meet
As on the shores lie the bodies of all those that failed
To pass yonder this island, where Siren’s cast their ail
Play victim to sirens songs and lyres, nor be drowned
As on the shores lie the bodies of all those that failed
I succumb not to thee to this mast I shall stay bound
Once twin towers stood.
In the city king kong fell in love.
Yellow taxi's swarm like stripeless bees.
and a sky line thats silhouted on your mind.
with police sirens screaming
and broadway calling.
Times Square lights hurting your eyes.
With Central park its breathing lung
a countryside oasis in a concrete corsett.
Greenwich village with its arts and crafts
and wall streets big business and brash.
United nations share this town.
musical and big fight nights.
basket balls globe trotters strut thier funky stuff.
and the yankees play class baseball.
all in all
new york as blown my mind.
As the Dime Store sirens flared
bolts of irradiated invite,
my query was denied.
Their pimp-striped pilots only moaned,
their lust fueled by encapsulated
stench carried only by toothless carnies
from the canyons. Canyons o’ Crazed Confliction.
And behind… the dull dynamo hum.
I screamed for the Kelp Queen to come to me,
her tresses woven wave-like in the wabe.
My demands were simple.
The scars of the trucker's she must carry
(as war carries death)
for inbreeding has tainted her line.
“Can Omaha be far?” she pleaded
and tugged at my inter-ache
as tin balloons tug with time .
“For you?” I replied in a
flatulent belch.
The boiling madness was by now
beyond the horizon but kept in check
still by the neon dogs crouching by day under the interchange.
It is they who will now stalk the disease plagued ports
I sailed from so many
days
and
images
ago.
Until her kleptic crew of vagrants and priests
sprint with me in postpartum harmony.
Hipsters for TRUTH.
On a ship
Poet (Po)
Reason (Re)
Po: Look at the billow of the sails,
the sea, its black and blue hails.
Re: I’ve seen it before, even now and again.
I miss the pines outside my window pane.
Po: The sea kicked back for you and me,
flapping and fraternizing with the enemy.
Re: Even dandelions, even their seeds…
painted onto my eyes…even the weeds…
Po: Banish your thoughts of land and its blubber.
Enjoy the fishy smell of salt and deck scrubber.
Re: You’ll think differently if today we drown.
Curtains could be drawn, take us down.
Po: But I hear the wind’s bells and sea carols;
the mesmerizing squall without perils.
Re: Hide the sound from your ears, Poet.
Beautiful sirens and sharks know it.
Po: The lyrics drape over the sides, and embark,
sad and true, surely don’t lie, moon’s watermark.
Re: What a fool with your measuring rod, the rings
will tatter, split this boat into a raft without wings.
Po: Embraceable you…this mermaid is playful.
Her and her lullaby friends, my mind they fill.
Re: I fear the tidal wave, its cloth, our shroud.
The ripcord and undertow, of teeth, are loud.
Po: Auld rhymes and runes have lured me into the sea.
I’ll just lie back and listen to the soul-stirring poetry.
Re: I see now, I’ve learned my lesson too late.
Leave the poet on the shore. Don’t wait!
Po: O the climax of this sensual score. It is certain
our sea-harem will be unveiled beyond the curtain.
Fury for the masses
neon pulses bleed into the damp air
screens flicker
frantic fireflies
spitting chaos
into living rooms, void!
Each pixel is a distant mind bomb
echoes of sirens shatter the night.
Feel the heart of asphalt jungles
where skyscrapers are tombstones
for dreams buried in hashtags.
Shadows reach, hungry n restless
feasting on the memories of despair.
A parade of facades
ghosts behind the glass
navigating a labyrinth of noise
thick as smoke.
Scroll past the bloodied headlines
weaving threads of dread through
the fabric of the mundane
where hearts race with every ping
each notification a flicker of the end…
Fury for the masses…
the knife's edge, we walk,
bound to a world unraveling.
Colors bleed monochrome
as love is reduced to static n ashes, tears
like ink wells in vast spaces
words caught in a feedback loop.
Desperate are voices
muffle the roar
of an endless stream
the tide of information
crashing against the shores of sanity.
A cacophony of a Thousand Lives
fury for the masses...
The night whispers
a lullaby of loss
a haunting refrain.
The fragility in the chaos
a symphony of fury…
Fury for the masses.
And beneath the glossy façade
light flickers, a candle in the storm
fighting the shadows, reminding no one!
The roar and the rage
a cry for the masses ?
in the silence of our reckoning..
Fury for the masses!
I walked that bridge every day
But now it's just rubble floating in the river
Where the water runs thick with blood
Smoke blossoms in the sky
And sirens shriek for the gathering ghosts
And the cowering packs of dogs
Children walk for miles with darkened faces
Their eyes like lights that have gone out
For it is in the heart of children where hope dies
People congregate on interstate highways
Where directional signs sway in the breeze
Barely held on by a single screw
For most there is no hope for them to grasp
They simply walk the straight interstate path
Now a graveyard for abandoned cars
In the window of an old faded blue Honda Civic
A woman stares out with disbelief immortalized on her face
With a dried blood caked on her cheek
And suddenly the siren screeching in the distance
Finally comes to a sudden stop
But hardly anybody notices
Civilization came to an end
We're just the unlucky ones who survived
The nuclear holocaust