Long Smashes Poems
Long Smashes Poems. Below are the most popular long Smashes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Smashes poems by poem length and keyword.
Hartley matters heart just beating arms empty holding no one heart matters face Saturn parts yearning tears flowing fall falling to the ground watering the shattered seed Humanities smashes heart does it matter beating life's blood thinking for love muscles pumping fluids blood where is the love heart matters just greedy just wants to be loved heart matters energized circumcised cut reshaping loves not X excited yet brightened no longer excited heart beating love is gone fleeting never flourished never grew no longer excited heart speeding loves gone never came just wishful dreaming not reciprocal hardly matters
1/21/23
Written by James Edward Lee Sr 2o23
“Want to play ball?” cackle of witch.
Play’n cards dispersed on pew.
Who knew this is the day they’d pay;
Their church doors close for good.
A knock at window breaks; no bat.
Hot blob of monster ball
is hurled, a hit - an eight feet orb
attacks in Devon moor.
The smoke and sulphur fills the air;
A vanishing neat trick.
T’other ball smashes window glass.
Who’s the show for? The church?
The time is nigh, nestled in now -
Century regardless.
The flames of hell might visit you.
You’ve faith to hide in church?
“…Can a person hide in secret places where I cannot see him?”
…”Do I not fill the heavens and the earth? …”
—Jeremiah 23:24 CSB (portions)
No creature is hidden from Him, but all things are naked and exposed to the eyes of Him to whom we must give an account.
—Hebrews 4:13 CSB
Mystery shrouds the star lit night
As lovers exposed to evening delights
In masks we dance, we all go around
Who is who, do we really know?
Who is Romeo and who is to die?
Ladies in waiting, do their waltz
As the Lady of the evening bathes at dusk
Champagne glasses in pink do reflect
All the Shakespeare penned, indirect
For its he that said we love to decept
Young lovers will hold onto devotions
Choose between Montague and Capulet
For lances of blood forever thrust
Into the loser of Williams tales
Mademoiselle is saddened by wilted rose
She smashes to pieces all her dreams
The waltz of knights and lovers will end
She had to choose between Montague and Capulet
She chose first the arrow, for hearts don’t mend
Shakespeare wins yet once more
For with my saber, I drank champagne
And read this tale yet once again!
Montague and Capulet on horses rode
As Sergei pondered and composed
Juliette just shed her tears
Dancing Knights have no fear
The ballet of love makes one shake
As the Knight lances his final spear
The irony of classic tales
Old stories we hold so dear
Notes
Where to begin! Well although this seems somewhat about Romeo and Juliette, its actually based on a song, that well its also a muse on Romeo and Juliette.
The song/artist is
Alizée - Mademoiselle Juliette
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyUXWgmEvE8
Although Montagues and Capulets are characters in Shakespeare’s story, "Montagues and Capulets", is also known as "Dance of the Knights", a work of classical music written by Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev for his 1935 ballet Romeo and Juliet. Later, he wrote versions for both orchestra and piano.
Thus the Title of the poem, and the mention of Sergei in the poem.
His composition can be viewed at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMrSPOWrYGA
The line “For with my saber, I drank champagne “
In the old days, Champagne was actually opened with a saber on some occasions. Though it's rare to use a sword these days, the expression "to Saber champagne" still is in usage in French.
So an English Tale became a Russian Symphony piece and a French Muse, and now a Canadian poem!
WIND
by
Kevin L Fairbrother
The wind, so cold, so bloody cold
Wraps it’s freezing breath around me
Aches my head, numbs my body
Sucks my energy and dulls my brain
……….
The wind it smashes, it breaks, bends and twists
Everything within it’s non-yielding path
Destruction every-where I look…it’s hell
As Mother Nature vents her fury on earth
…
The wind howls and screams it deafens me
I am fearful for it is relentless…it gives no ground
I seek shelter and relief… but where
For this freezing blast of cold air is everywhere
………
The safety of my home so near… yet so far
As another blast completely bowls me over
It rolls me over and over and buries me beneath the snow
And blackness engulfs me… I’m buried alive
…….
I feel no pain…just silence… but I am cold
So bloody cold, I’m shivering, shaking…feel so numb
I’m hovering between life and death… I loose consciousness
A blackness overwhelms and engulfs me
……
Surely I’m dead… but awaken in hospital
The wind, the snow, the cold has frozen my body
Frost-bite…now I feel horrendous pain
So much pain that I black out again
Only to be revived and the pain has subsided
……
For weeks and months I endured the pain
Minus fingers toes … a leg… I wish I was dead
Because I tempted fate by venturing into the wind
A wind that went so close to leaving me dead
Most days
By
Ingrid Showalter Swift
Most days
I am really truly
But then………………………
flowing in like an iceberg that was off at sea
now come to shore once more
with the stinging knives…long tentacle fingers of searing ….
Cold
it smashes the shore
ripping my pretty shells off the reef
and stopping
to silvered sudden silence............. the lovely waves of joy
or too...it is
as if I am a tapestry
the top layer has many brilliantly died threads
some even glisten as Gold and Silver and pulse intertwiningly with rich jewel tones and ambers
and soft areas of downy whites
and creams ....that throw light up onto the ceiling and walls like a crystal spinning
But beneath there is an undulating world of dark blue rivers baring your name
they swirl in eddies within me and sometimes
they rise
…and rise and rise and rise
till
they…flood the surface
blurring
then block..it all out
and all I can feel or see is the loss of you
your very ……………….goneness
and your own loneliness…your solitude
in the sounds of your shop
metal is moving
nothing soft and blond
or me anywhere to be seen
except on that one lone shelf where my very tattered pages move gently every time you pass by
moving like seaweed dancing in the swirls of the sea
or leaves in the trees caught in your spirit's breeze
Dedicated to Lorie Jean, Though She'll Never Know
Asleep, I cannot escape my love’s depth for you.
Awake, I cannot deny my loathing towards you.
Confusion and missing settle-stay in my pain’s cliché.
Thoughts of you weigh down my moments every day.
Long is the time I have spilled grief yet failed its release,
but dreams weave my joy strung to net grief’s relief.
Asleep, I see us blend as we did easily back then.
As before, we pool play, float happily and swim.
In sunshine, we decide our age will be just ten
as laughter splashes our feel with child-like appeal.
In dreams, we cook, play cards, take road trips,
critique movies, compete to title older song hits.
Our laughter soars until you ‘ink’, and then we
laugh more, stopping only when laugh sore.
Secrets from one’s lips merit the other’s ears
to heart-hear and hold all told in love-lined folds.
My feet twitch as I dream-walk to your home
and street-met you dream-walking to my own.
In dreams I see all I reality-miss; your face,
voice, moods, humor and unique attitudes.
I live our togetherness, our special groove,
in cherished dream scenes of us as still a two.
As soon as I first wake, reality steals my happy,
smashes the contentment dreams grant me
while missing aches swirl colors of lonely.
I ponder whether while in your own slumber,
you also dream plunder from our past splendor
for assistance with your friend-grief ender.
Whoosh , hwush, wush
Wush whoosh hwush,
the billowing wind crashes
through the mountains,
it smashes my window pane,
and empties my bucket list.
I can hear them calling,
I can see them coming,
and I can feel them beckoning me to come.
but I’ve died a hundred times,
resurrected from a thousand death ,
and I know that it is not my time yet.
I have made a hundred plans,
but they have all crumbled in my hands.
Reason or purpose?
Coincident or plan?
I still do not understand.
It is inevitable,
It is unchangeable ,
and it lingers at our door.
unfilled dreams and endless goals,
what if this story was never to be told?
hiking on the mountains,
building homes for homeless children,
Or spending time with family and friends.
I scanned through my list,
but nothing seem to fit,
have I already achieved them?
or am I reliving them?
what else is there to do on my bucket list?
©2013 Christine Phillips
A Winter Landscape
a southern winter
landscape framed by dark gray clouds
pines sigh mellow tunes
a small boy laughs as he runs
splashing in muddy puddles
white ice spews from ground
as temperature plummets
peach blossoms turn brown
a gray haired man shakes his head
and buys tulips for his wife
a spring bouquet sits
in a lovely vase gone dry
tulip petals fall
a kitten smashes the vase
and leaps from the windowsill
grandmother awakes
a small boy and his kitten
run outside to play
donning a yellow rain coat
against the winter landscape
Collaborative poem
Written by: Sara Kendrick, USA and Jack Horne, UK
Spider-man crawls in your life with is blind eyes gazing
You hate spiders but chose to spare the spider man
webs start rolling and rolling around you
Until you are the addict of the web
You are the prey
Some how you pull yourself out of the web
And then Bat man arrives
With his cunning trickery
What does this blind spirit want?
You see good as evil
And you like it
Somehow you cant overcome
This giant with wings
He takes you from this to that
Even when he cant see where he is flying to
Then one day he knocks a moving truck
And you fall in the hands of superman
the hypocrite one
He comes to rescue you
Then throws you down the cliff
and holds you before you reach the ground
until you get a heart attack
And he just disappears
To allow Iron man hold you with
A twist of a wolf
And you cant move
each born starts breaking with in
even boneless muscles break
The heart breaks
The spirit breaks down
You break down
And this iron giants hands you
In the arms of the great hulk
The bully we all know
he smashes you at anything
And with anything
And then places you in a battle field
To face some Philistine Champion
Face to face you meet Goliath
The big mouth
Who can talk you out for forty days
After you discover
The secret behind
The stone of courage
You slay your giant
And wait to meet another uncircumcised giant
This time it wont be the matrix
It will be the cocaine
It wont be Jack sparrow
It will be malice
It wont be another giant
But another addiction
Another bully
Another vampire to slay
People sinning, bad men grinning
A world of flux and spam
To fight the horrid, slow the torrid
The smart ones have a plan.
By election, or selection
You’ll be part of this fight
Poked and prodded, shame allotted
They’ll force you to ‘the light.’
Burned and scoured, endless glowers
You wonder what comes next
They taunt and bait, incarcerate
To make it all ‘correct.’
But nature vying, break the lying
Smashes cries of ‘hate.’
Strictures failing, soon travailing
Truth comes by too late
Realization, not imagination
You are just what I am
People sinning, bad men grinning
A world of flux and spam.