Long Slumber Poems

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


Tourette

I am a monster
A tormented work of God’s hand
I will roll over you
Like a storm
Because that I am

My energy will attract you like a swarm of bees in spring
Into your lover’s bed
Where I will remove tranquility
From you mind
Before you reject me

I am a Tesla 
Coiled
My fingers set to spark
They will suck the life out of your longing
You will desire to burn again in my hell

But you will remove me
And keep me at bay
For I am too strong in field
To leave close to your heart
Yet I will possess you

Not because I own you
Only will I own your desire
To wrap around my tongue again
And from inside your womb
You will grow a hand longing to pull me into your core

Yet I will unwillingly shake your bed 
While you try to sleep
Because I cannot stop
Even when I rest
A storm I am

Cursed am I
With a double vortex of pain
That rips at my muscles
And makes them twitch
When I want them to relax

There is lightening inside of me
That longs to be kissed into a deeper slumber
Just once, so that I can rest in bliss at your side
Will you do that for me, just once?
Or throw me away before the first dawn, as is my fate

My tormented soul
Wants the electrocutioner’s pulse
To leave me alone
And let my limbs recline
For just one night

But instead I must sleep awake
So I do not unleash
Another crushing wave
Against your brain
As my twitching arms attack you despite my love

For while a storm may intrigue you to watch
You will not ride long in the funnel of this tornado
I will become your toy
And discarded after a few shocks of my constant sparking
Have burned your precious fingertips into charcoal

My place will become as your sworn servant
When you require another grinding
And remember the reason your millstones have worn thin
Desiring another load
To render into stardust

And while I just wish to rest my weary head
Upon your swollen breasts of honey
While you sleep against me in pleasure’s afterglow
The storm that never sleeps will jar you awake
And your pointed finger will show me out the dog’s door

Creep that I am
Requires his mask to be kissed away, but it will not yield
No one can endure
A lasting embrace
Because I will bump your arms away in the night

You should be warned
As upon notice be you now informed
My tic ticking heart
Will demand its daily toll
Sending me to sleep alone


Premium Member Smiles Throughout the Weeks

Ben and Cora Green had seven children, like calendar pages turning;
Each one born on a different weekday, like mango sun, forever burning.

Zoe was pretty, with big eyes and dimples, while Leah loved dancing,
Yet, Bill was sort of a pessimist; like when mystic trouble is glancing.

Edward had a zeal for jogging, while Ruth ran many errands for free.
James always had a part time job. Pete was all sunshine, very happy.

Fun barbecues attracted friends, to lawns of families and red flowers;
When fluff, sleepy clouds wandered, during deep green, golden hours.

Hues of fall leaves were fawning, when flying on crisp air, like family;
Visiting the days of fuming flora, of cool chrysanthemums, so pretty!

The Greens lived in a house of calendars, as mystic prisms flash color;
The life sundered into separate hues, like in gardens of blissful wonder.

Saffron sun shone on their street, as they smiled at people they'd meet;
When silver willows whispered surrender, to warm breezes, of no retreat.

Neighbors were a part of noon memoirs. Shadows were national heroes,
In ruddy times of heat and desperation! In the heyday of burgundy rose.

'Lady Leigh' irises sizzled in red, with the fruity beauty of 'pineapple lily,'
While insects snacked on 'goldfish' plants, beneath pink clouds, so frilly!

'Starfish' flowers had big highs and lows, in strawberry days of summer;
While 'Peruvian apple' cacti bloomed, on a single, dark night of slumber.

The Green children conveyed nostalgia for joyful childhood, into old age;
As colorful fall remembers summer just left, so flower strewn and sage!

Zoe grew up to be a model, while Leah became a famous ballet dancer.
Bill became a happier TV weatherman, for after rain, sun is the answer!

Edward later ran in marathons, and Ruth founded a charity organization.
James worked hard for conservation, as Pete, a clown, toured the nation.

Like the smiles that charm each seven day week, as a teal world waltzes;
Or like satiny peace of pearl moon charm, when the purple world pauses!

'Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
And the child who is born on the Sabbath Day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.'
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Interlude

"Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood." 
Ralph Waldo Emerson

In this performance we call life,
my spirit searches for an interlude of peace.

My poetic mind riots consumed by rhymes, 
savaging our memories of grieving beliefs.
I'm a soul rasping winter's woeful wings, 
afraid I'll become a poet who ink will forget.

I'm trapped in the desert of dejected demons,
wandering in aching avenues of dreams, 
forgotten in ferocious frozen vine's of time,
surrounded by meadows of blood poppies, 

Season of death is a cursed caricature of memories,
full of salty tears, bitter goodbyes with spiteful sentiments.
Let me sleep in the synchronicity of angels,  
as ebony horizons drift into darkness.

When crimson clouds bleed to paint the sky, 
I scream at silent scarlet skies,
as black rain from a dark storm plunders.
Like acid burning my metaphorical paper wings,
I float like a butterfly cursed by moths of deceit, 
as hope dances dangerously with my malevolent muse -
grace and hellfire waltz with my heart's chambers. 

I can't help but remember last November, 
when death clung to the air around me, 
as answers we found turned into a designated dead end. 

In delirious desires of deathless shadows, 
I still see your daggers and cigarettes in a charcoal silhouette, 
with your every breath laced with guilt. 
Yet, the ghost of your voice lulls me to sleep, 
as the silence crawls along the walls at night. 

Who are we to judge who is a sinner or a saint.
I wonder if you will walk down the stairs of heaven, 
hold me in all my fragility, remind me of childlike charms,
or will rebellious regrets open the gates of hell.

I scream at the Grim Reaper to take my soul, 
ravage me, before I go,
but put a white veil on my corpse,
so each night when I visit my grave, 
provocative eyes with loose desires,
can feel the wind beneath my sails.

But, gift me one more midnight,
to create my final masterpiece to paint my dreams,
carved with marble white ink,
engulfed in sentimental verses -
for this is poetry, formless suppressed speech.

One day our quill will eternally slumber,
as our conscience passes from poetry to dust.
In the plight of adversity, only I, truly know,
that stars speak stories how simple words were not enough,
as truth only prevails through poetic justice.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Red Eyes and Sinister Looks

Chains, hay forks, knives, and a hollow whisper,
become more true and sinister.
Halt in the middle of the moon light, 
and a waver image soon is no delight.
Voices run a muck in the head, 
so not calming you wish you were dead.
Gushing blood through the eye
not an image that you would rely.
Nails stuck on your neck with such pain
so your paralyze just little life sustain.
Hoodlums terrorizing people running a muck
did not really know they are in luck.
More dangerous beings are out their
to commit such act and with sinister stare.
Laughing with haunting echo's through
is an aspect of fear can imbue.
The wind changes direction to smother
the echoing sound of laughter.
The panicking state that you are in
soon drives a knife within.
Blood rushing out of your vain
a crucial part of your life dropping like rain.
Running without a destination
you will never reach anyone of your relation.
Sliding your body on a wall
keeping your fall in a stall.
Red eyes you can see it at night
is soon devouring you with little bite.
Changing your belief with tonics of relief
and it is to late to turn a new leaf.
Ears start to deceive the animals sound
eating limbs are chewing around.
Slowly your red eyes steadily getting heavy
is starting to take your life with a levy.
Dropping down with no attitude
and your life force slowly loses altitude.
Breathing comes not so easy
smelling flesh seems so beastly.
The change comes a desire
with frightening red eyes of fire.
Comes more lethal than the hoodlums 
your heart beating like drums.
Your hand becomes all fury
claws come out and your howl with furry.
Trance your in with no one to blame
a rage thats hundreds of centuries of flame.
Rising from a slumber of long lust
a animal instinct that you can trust.
Tearing things apart with no meaning
is a trait that is so deceiving.
Red eyes at night you see in a window
like a poisonous black widow.
Keeps you in attack mode of insanity
that takes all your vanity.
Ferocious emotions eating away
the soul that you had once betray.
The echoing sounds of loud thunder
breaks away the armor with sunder.
You fall once again to torturous agony
the feeling of one self is so lonely.
Shaking in the corner you are found
with blood soaked skin you drowned.
The night becomes day cruel in some way
your memories go in disarray.
The hunters with torches and sinister look
had parted way their hands shook.
Form: Narrative

Female Silence

I fell asleep in my chair
I  awoke and a room full of smiling women
Looked at me
With Death’s Stare


I asked myself
Am I dreaming?
What are these women scheming?
I fear my mind these women soon will be reaming


What made me dream this way?
My boss yelled at me today
Too much work stress
My brain abscess
Heart and soul in distress


I heard on TV there are more men than women
Women dying and killed in record numbers
Female Final Slumber


Male Violence
Men creating
Female Silence


I looked back at the Cabal of Ladies
I fear I have a room at
The Hotel Hades


Their smiles gone
The room suddenly burst into flames
The women screamed out in pain
Their anguished cries driving me insane


I fell to my knees
I begged them for a Quick Death
They said after I listen to how they all died
Maybe then I could take my last breath


One was stoned
One was beheaded
One was strangled
One was burnt alive
One was led to a cliff and forced to dive
She did not survive


There is no Honor in killing


All the women committed the same sin
Wanting to be free
Male driven Female Genocide for centuries


Still going on
Way too long


All the men swore to love and protect these women
Fathers, Husbands, Brothers, Sons, Friends and Lovers all lied
Allah Cried
Love Denied


Evil dark music filled the room
Flames Rising
Tribal Trance Treat
Tantric Drum Beat
The women danced
I was entranced


Satan and Jesus
Came in the room
They approached the women
And both told The Flock they are
The One
Follow me to Eternal Fun


All the women laughed and turned away
From their Saviour
These women no longer crave
Male Behaviour


Then out of the Flames
I was approached by 
The Head Dame
My Dead Mother aflame
Smoldering in front of me


My Beloved Mother said to me
Son you don’t have much time
It’s true you never committed female crime
You never got out of line
Why don’t you write a rhyme


Tell all men of future women yet to come
They need to be free
And will not be Men’s Property


These unborn women will demand to experience life
Free from Male Strife
And be warned
If Male Violence continues against women
And Men refuse to change


Then one day all the women will be gone
They will refuse to be born
Men will no longer be turned on
This will signal
Man’s Final Dawn
Form: Epic


An Image of Netherworld Envisioned By Mister Misanthrope

Deep within Earthen bowels
immensely distant from sheltering sky
amidst a thick fog enveloped landscape
with here and there a projected
craggy, derelict chasm

precipitously crooked 
rocky claws pointing toward
an infinitely wide yawning abyss
dwelt kindred spirits 

comprising soul asylum
where grateful dead (albeit marked,
via weathered tomb stones) 
hermetically sealed
once vibrant corporeal mortals
betook their eternal slumber.

One among their number
included a misanthrope
who sported long straggly hair
bushy eyebrows shield

ding cold eyes of steel
straggly bearded clammy chin
in tandem with a hairy body
which when alive (long time ago)

upheld upon unshod feet, a severely
hunchbacked cretin
Within dense pitch-black terrain
(Mother Nature enlisting

a menagerie of life forms
accustomed to hellish environment)
awash with unrecognizable
alien sights and sounds

mollycoddling bewitching warlocks,
mailer daemons, trolling trojan horses
imps of the pervert chieftains, fiery
long and fostered Golems

who called underworld
their private demesne
also alluded to Marcy's playground
holding hostage Alice in Chains

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,
The Beastie Boys, Culture Club
The Human League, and
Village People a Crowded House

Emitting wisps of ethereal matter
appearing a small medium at large
chat snap ping, flickr ring 
indeed joyus minions
exalting piety good and plenti.

Prone ounce sing proud purgatory
promoting protean phantasmagoria
hideous hulu hoop dancing holograms
highly distorted grotesque
silent 10,000 maniacs screaming 
sinister semblance to banshees
slithering across escarpment.

Echoing one end of universe to the other
putting to shame initial big bang 
ranking as a mere whimper
that original primordial blast

which cosmological exploits 
generated heavenly sphere instantaneously
comparison viz Krakatoa times Googleplex 
essentially reduced to insignificance
albeit on the analogous tinker toy 
premised conjectures of brilliant minds

could gander feeble educated guesses
asper extraordinary natural phenomena 
mortal mankind could never approximate
as belligerent threats punctuated,
 
via nuclear warfare
merely rates as a flickr 
amidst uber kindle snap chat ting
tinder blinks, extinguishes, 
snuffs out one lowly 
Beatle browed bipedal simian.

We, You, I : a Rap Song

"I ain't gonna be nothing, 
Cos it seem like f'ever I've been longing."
Tears in the eyes, phlegm in the nose,
Skin so sore, malady of the toes. 
Helter-skelter, yet, nothing to show for, 
Studied chemistry and physics what have I got? 
I've got nothing, but walking, 
Turning like a wheel, with no Boris, 
Fishing and hunting, yet no prey, 
A thousand padlocks and just two keys. 
Governments say what they won't do, 
Making us seem as big fools, 
Manifestoes, flap-doodles;
Serving trimmed rubbers as noodles. 
"Eat, eat, eat" they bade us, 
Proud to champion course unjust. 
Queen of s, Lord of tongues, 
Sharpened bolox, Seasoned guts. 
Now they stand as the saviours, 
Voice so high, dreading as thunder.
More they speak, more they hunger, 
Nourished with lies, growing fatter. 
What do we do, what are should? 
'nough of savagery, 'nough being fooled. 
Hey hey hey I'm talkin' you. 
You you you you you you you. 
Y'all wake up, wake from slumber, 
'Nough of dearth, 'nough of hunger. 
We goan be sleepers death after, 
Now eyes are open, why the scar? 
If its dirt they're tissue papers, 
Come for bucks, here is a dollar, 
Buy the one which is cleaner, 
Use it on your eyes and see clearer. 
You should now see, yea better, 
Humans like you claiming beggars. 
Those then begging, now are loiters, 
Those then loitering, now are robbers, 
Those then robbing, now are killers, 
Those then killing, now are prisoners, 
Those then in prison, met their demise. 
And on and on, Same thin' O'er and O'er. 
And we live on in myopia, 
Till perhaps come the rapture. 

Now we need revolution, 
Bundle up and throw out corruption. 
Right in our palm is solution, 
But we've been feared by confusion. 
Change prior to conviction, 
Let's agitate for lib'ration, 
Kill who should die as oblation ;
Those who're swimming in corruption. 
For e'ery bribe they get commission, 
E'en loot their congregation, 
Loaning 'em to indecision. 
Spare no seed of transgression. 
Even the bible make no exception ;
The book of proverbs even in extension, 
In chapter six verse eighteen makes a correction:
Only the death of the innocent is a transgression, 
But of the wicked? Sure purification. 

The first two lines would come no more, 
If we do what is right as we ought. 
        19:08:17:18:35

Ancestor. Ancestral Pen. We, You, I.
Form: Lyric

Taj-Symbol of Timeless Love

T
                                                       A
 TAJ                                                  J                                                TAJ
MAHAL                                         MAHAL                                          MAHAL
  [W]                                      MAUSOLEUM IN                                        [U]
  [O]                                A MARBLE SPLENDOUR                                    [N]
  [N]                            AN EPIC IN STONE,A MARVEL                                [E]
  [D]                        FOR HIS BELOVED MUMTAZ MAHAL                           [S]
  [E]          T          HIS FAVOURITE AND MOST CHERISHED       T              [C]
  [R]          A         QUEEN, BUILT HE,THIS NOBLE  MOGHUL       A              [O]
                 J         EMPEROR ,  A  MAGNIFICENT  MEMORIAL       J
  [O]      MAHAL     IN HER FOND MEMORY AFTER SHE LEFT     MAHAL         [H]
  [F]     *******     HIM SUNK IN UTTER GRIEF,WHEN SHE    *******        [E]
        BREATHED HER LAST, GIVING BIRTH TO THEIR FOURTEENTH CHILD   [R 
  [T]   IMMENSE WAS HIS LOVE                     TO IMMORTALIZE, HIS VOW   [I]
  [H]   BEREAVEMENT'S PAIN EXUDED AS LOVE IN STONES OF MONUMENT  [T]
  [E]  IVORY WHITE MARBLES                       LAPUS LAZULI,TURQUIOSES  [A]
        PIETRA DURA, ARTISTIC ,BEAUTY PERSONIFIED SANS ANY WONDER [G]
  [W] THIS TOKEN OF DEEP                           LOVE FOR  DARLING  WIFE   [E]
  [O]  STANDS SYMBOL  OF                           ETERNAL LOVE TODAY RIFE  
  [R]  ADORABLE,MAJESTIC                           REPOSITORY SO  ROMANTIC [S]
  [L]  THE KING AND QUEEN                          LEFT BEHIND LOVE  LEGACY  [I]
  [D]  HISTORY  WILL  HUM                          THIS LOVE STORY FOREVER  [T]
                                                                                                            [E]
ON MOONLIT NIGHTS ON BOSOM OF YAMUNA RIVER,FROM PLINTH TO DOME   MARBLE SHINES LIKE SILVER. IN EVERLASTING SLUMBER LAY IN TOMB THE 
QUEEN WITH HER KING BESIDE, THEIR STORY IN LOVER'S HEARTS RESIDE. 
LONG LIVE ETERNAL LOVE OF KING SHAH JAHAN, LONG LIVE THE TAJ !!!!!!   

 28th December 2016
~ For Concrete Crush Contest~ 
Glossary:
Pietra Dura:  Inlay technique of using cut and fitted, highly polished colored stones to create images.
© Anu Nayak  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Concrete

Round One

my arms wrapped around you 

warm to the touch 

only on thing on my mind 

i love you so much 

my hand connects with yours 

my arms wrapped around yo 

draw you in closer 

soft and smooth to the touch 

as we lay there 

theres no moment in time that has meant so much 

your body seems to mix with mine 

quickly churning all the feelings i have inside 

my hands caress your body 

you stir, open you eyes with your sexy smile 

sunlight streaks across your face 

giving you that look of even higher grace 

rubbing your back at such a slow pace 

giving you time to recooperate 

time to breathe 

time to wake 

i knew this was no mistake 

all the feelings i feel are real 

teasing me with a passion 

all is said and done- for now 

our love will never end 

not now, nor then 

later tonight 

the same will occur 

i'll walk through the door 

being making dinner 

take a shower 

wait till you arrive 

take your coat off your shoulders 

take off the weight that feels like boulders 

kiss you hello 

you know, nice and slow? 

reach for your hand 

lead you to dinner 

a meal of such delight 

already thinking to yourself, "i'll sleep well tonight" 

i wash the dishes 

you take your shower 

we'll meet in the bedroom 

and kiss the night away 

let me caress your body 

tell me all about your day 

slip out of your clothes 

kiss you all over from head to toe 

slide under the covers 

bodies mixing 

bending and twisting 

let our acts of love bellow through the air 

the night goes on 

but alas 

theres so much to be done 

smooth and creamy 

sweet and filling 

our movements slow down 

catching our breath 

our hunger way beyond being met 

you unwind 

i pull you closer 

deeper and deeper until slumber is met 

sighing contently 

i kiss your forhead 

you stir and steal my thought 

i love you 

both steamy and hott 

kissing you gently 

saying it back 

you close your eyes for the night 

rocking you slowly back and forth 

my love 

my heart 

my soul 

no greater truth be told 

i begin to drift away into sleep 

our dog curling up on our bed by our feet 

another day is done 

another night well spent 

but alas this is not the end 

just the end of round one.
Form: Bio

Premium Member Lost Love Deliria - Part 3

 Part 3

9th Delerium: Emptyness
Water wheels in wastelands... turning,
drowning relics in the slum
Rumpled rags of fashioned burlap... burning,
lit by bandits blind and dumb
Pastured prisons, ponies bridled ... yearning,
forest fairies under thumb
Sounds inside of cauldrons coughing... churning,
blaring bugles, tattooed drum

10th Delirium: Alienation
Rain unravelling, wistfully weeping... falling,
treacle trickling, fickle sky
Mushrooms sprinkled, visions sprouting... sprawling,
seagulls drowning, dolphins die
Rabble gasping, spirits broken... crawling,
lonely lonesome swallows cry
Babbling brooks and breakers ebbing... bawling
puppies paddle, puppets sigh
People passing ripple past me... calling,
rainbow colours, collars high
Chaos seething, lepers looting... stalling,
stealing stallions on the sly
Pencils pausing, scholars scrambling... scrawling,
scratching scribbles, asking why

11th Delirium: Jetsam
Silver sails sway pallid pirates... prowling,
Jolly Rogers, wind and sound
Parrots perching, tattered feathers... fouling,
tethered talons, tied and bound
Shipwrecked foghorns, trumpets stranded... howling,
spiral springs of time unwound
Magic moonlight, shimmers shaking... scowling,
burnt out matchsticks washed aground
Prairie wolfs, coyotes calling... yowling,
witching hours, midnight hounds
Tightrope walkers, grizzlies grunting... growling,
seeking islands, lost and found

12th Delirium: Relief
Slumber shattered, vapours captive... haunting,
chained in mirrors, breaking free
Scarlet skylines, daylight dawning... daunting,
rivers rushing to the sea
Silence softens, sandmen whisper... wanting,
piercing rafters, turning keys
Shadows shudder, notions fluster... flaunting,
moonbeam bullets meant for me
Mind in migraine, meadows trembling... taunting,
sparrows speak in harmony

REAWAKENING

Pitter patter, teardrops paling... pearling,
salting scarves in secret drawers
Mist amongst us, smoke rings rising... curling,
climbing from the ocean floors
See-saw circles, senses swerving... swirling,
swept away with silver oars
Courtyard jesters, sceptres twisting... twirling,
push the past to foreign shores
Passing pangs of passions heaving... hurling,
burning bridges, closing doors
Roses wither, icons waning... whirling,
time decays and time restores

 End
Form: Rhyme

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