Long Strike Poems
Long Strike Poems. Below are the most popular long Strike by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Strike poems by poem length and keyword.
Foundation.
If you could escape this world, would you take that risk?
Escapism
As if cursed by the son of perdition
As I go about my new life's mission to gain admission to her realm
With Aphrodite's dead ringer who whispers songs of exquisite rendition
Praying a lone arrow from Eros bow will strike, drawing gasps from the angels watching
High in the midnight sky
As I breathe in her sweet aroma and passion filled scent, like pure oxygen
And feel regal like a king
Like King Solomon
As her aura captures my soul like a moth is attracted to a flame
So now all dark nights appear so long and so black
As the shadow people slowly advance
Whispering my name
For they know I have been changed by someone so radical.
As I entered the Fifth Dimension one strange night
Looking to finding a love so sacred and magical
But that's the magic of searching for the fantastical
For as sure as winds seduce trees by subtle caresses
As the world wakes each year in a new spring and fresh life begins
I write this before I go to the Hidden Forest
Where the White Ash stands
Where green ivy hides the entrance to her lair, and other slaves play music, while chained to metal stands
With the smell of incense on patrol in the electricity filled air
Ready to invade lungs and take control
It's ten to two in the morning and I have to appear at four
So if I don't come back, I leave this for you to know I'm fine
Keep the house
Car and money
For I'm going to a new place where fear no longer exists
A place I hope welcomes me in
Just pray for me that I don't
lose my soul and become just another flesh slave
Chained up playing music in her band
A prisoner trapped forever in her cave
As she sits or stands
On her golden throne singing with her crimson red lips
You're now mine
Now get in line
Your time will come play
For now, you're caught
And can no longer run away
For you're now just another one of my familiars
One in a trillion
No longer a civilian
All this I know for a German called Schiller
Told me over the internet
Told me to come over
Told me I'd be a member of a wolf pack serving a queen in The Great In-Between
So here I am
Pray for me
Ma ***
Forever yours
Your son
Jimmie 0
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
I own the personality of a human extrovert
you can call me Majesty for I have steadiness of paw
when it comes to hunting I can be quite overt
as vocal as a crow's caw caw
I am tiger, hear me growl and roar
as the largest feline in the world, I always stand proud
solitary by nature I take care of my cubs with adore
but don't stand in my way or you'll hear me nice and loud
I am a sentient being at the brink of extinction
due to the fact they want me for my pelt, meat and body parts
when they take spear in hand and come into my jurisdiction
it is then that I flair my nostrils and eat my counterparts
unless you threaten to kill me, I wont pull out my tiger claws
when I am observing I often strike a tall majestic pose
but if you can smell my musky scent, then your standing too close
the fact is you need to keep distance, its as plain as the tip of your nose.
Another terrorist atrocity has happened again
This time it was Barcelona and that my friends is Spain
My heart felt love goes to those affected
These terrorists need found and dejected
Stay alert everyone they may strike anywhere
Be vigilant and stay aware
They have hit London and Paris
They call themselves ISIS
They have tried to install fear to us all
But their the only ones who will fall
They will not win their religious fight
Peace and tranquillity that’s what’s right
There tactics have been very similar
Killing, hurting with a van or a car
Driving at speed in built up areas
Targeting innocent bystanders
These people really are cowardly
I just wish that they would see
They have been totally brain washed
Reasons and thoughts turned to slosh
Sending healing thoughts to all people there
From the western world we really care
The terrorist should be behind a large fence
For indiscriminate acts of murder and violence
You are the scurvy of this earth
Your radical beliefs buried under turf
You can not see that you won’t win
What you do is a really a Sin
So ISIS we won’t take it anymore
Face up to facts you’ve lost your war
Go back home and leave our shores
Violence and murder we don’t adore
When it comes to
What my definition is
Of a good night in
Which and what
Box Sets I want to binge on
These are my preferred favorite's
Placed in no particular order
Boxes of
Beer
Cigarettes
Take-away
Chocolate
Sweet's
Chip's
Painkillers to quell the morning hangover
bound to follow tonight's festivities
Doggy treat's to keep my furry best
friend mutt quiet
Because he deserves a treat as much
as I do
Bacon , sausage all things greasy
full English breakfast ingredients
To soak up all the booze settle my
stomach and make me feel
half human hopefully again
Box of tissues to wipe the dribble
and sick away from my mouth
And also use to clean up whatever I spill
mess I make and leave behind in my wake
And finally the most important box
of all
A box containing my last will and testament
and a fire extinguisher
Just incase I die before I wake
And the certain someone sent to rescue me
They themselves do in fact on the odd
occasion smoke as well
Inadvertently strike up a cigarette to
calm their shaking nerves
Then need a fire extinguisher to put the
flames and me out
Because although I may be long
dead passed on my final breath
I am still 100,% proof here in spirit form
Just as explosive or combustible
As a Box of say
Fireworks
Or
Dynamite
The Queen Of Emeralds.
Thy mothers name is victoria! So full of strength and love!
Thy mothers voice is that of a songbird, spirit is of queen of storms.
Thy mothers net is one of safety, not just for me and my siblings, however strong enough for all children of the sea.
Thy mothers passion is of furious pain that paints the sky red of dawn's light to twilight dusk!
Thy mothers tears nature and bring forth growth from the frey!!!
Thy mothers love is of nurturement, tiss has the ability to heal even the most detested wounds.
Thy mother can fly with the wrights and right almost any wrong!
Thy mother has predilections of a tigress! Not one of you may touch us or hurt us without the strike of her hammer!
Thy mothers breath is warm as a hearth and her heart furious like a valkyrie!
Thy mother can turn women into men and men into children and back again!
Thy mothers beauty is as the fountain of youth and never stops giving even when drained dry!
Thy mothers heart is her children that to which i am first of eight!
Thy mothers strength is our unity, my siblings and I, we are her song of storms.
My mothers legacy is us and we are each one of her. Don't mess with us, we can breathe nightmares, not just dreams.
Thy mothers reflections are we, and are her, she is me and i am one of many together we are rain amongst her lightning.
Thy love is for thy mother and my brothers and sister! Happy mothers day mom! Your breath ,your strength, your everything is ours and we are yours, we make legions from your womb.
Thank you mama from our hearts to yours, for air we breathe, for earth we walk, for fire in our hearts, for water you nurtured us with, and for being able to be one with you no matter where we are, we are legions we are one!
~Benjamin luke Aguas
The Tear Wiper
There was one, who called his friend a few days ago.
He shared with him a dream he thought he should know.
His friend gave attention as he, in a serious tone, began to say:
It was cold and snowy in the East.
It was windy and wet in the North.
It was cloudy and stormy in the South.
It was dry, sunny, and mild in the West.
By next day, out West, ocean tides rose 20 feet high.
Several states along the Mississippi were flooded up North.
The Eastern Seaboard shivered in 15 feet of snow from Delaware to Maine;
And, an unbelievable 7.8 earthquake shuddered the Deep South.
All of these dramatic events happened on the very same day.
By noon, the whole world was filled with sorrow and dismay.
There was no forecast, and without watch or warning, the weather spoke.
It was not an invading army nor a terrorist strike; but America did choke.
It was an earth shattering day when everyone everywhere took note and awoke. Not a Hollywood movie, but it was clear to all; this was neither nightmare nor joke.
It was noted that one family up North had taken shelter under a strong and tall oak. The children played as they sang, talked, and prayed; also in a book, they wrote. Then suddenly, they all stood together; and a scripture they did quote.
“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes:
And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying,
Neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”
03202007 cj Rev. 21:4 (Poetic fiction)PS
i love you ...
to the cold marrow, i do
beastess of black
the art of you, ritualistic, raw
all your names wrap me
savage, winged and wondrous …
tempt me, tepid dragon
i dream of the pursuit
wrought in timeless space
wispy, winding the world
biting my tongue with bitter citrus
or dripping with rhythmic, parenthetical
perfection …
dance for me -
break at the score, residue-righteous
engendered non-generically
come, venerated venom
and strike true -
crimp, shine, bubble, breathe
sing my veins ...
hot, horrid harlot of the haggard heart
neuron-nasty and aflame
a receptor conflagration, reborn
divinely devilish …
i - Mad Molly's sullied son -
curse you with all i know
and woo you with my innocence, lost
i nail you to a cross
of considerations and care
only to worship your ruin
the lion's paw to your Androcles, merciful
acid tears to wash your feet
and blood …
to bind.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, February 7, 2021; update November 24, 2023
Things begin turning around and very
slowly they take a nasty foreboding twist
as Hell's Dragon has not breathed yet
a deep burning fire melting red his eyes
dripping blood upon fury and destruction
pumping inside the uncontrollable fire
equal to that of a thousand steamboats
and only he sleeps in the dark dungeons.
Chained and suffering in utter Hellfire
chained in untold torment and anguish
unleashed he would burn your heart no less
in a flash—while scorching all to nothingness
fried black from the deepest ashes falling
cold silently sleeping with wings on fire and
chained to love’s weakness as the dark fables say:
Do Not Call Upon This Beast—He’s The Devil’s Own.
Hell’s Dragon stirs inside with tongues of flames
lashing with the pains of hate to strike all now
leaving hottest cinders and funeral pyres a plenty
it’s now the Devil’s very moment to unleash His Evil,
His Demon Dragon upon the saintly and the pure
and the precious doing their good works and all
and unsuspecting of the malevolence awaiting them.
The Devil enters afresh the earthly plane once more and
releases His Dragon to inflict harm and to upset
God’s celestial equation of peace, harmony, and light—
bringing death, destruction, and retribution to all in
its flight path while breathing out the harshest and
cruelest and hottest flames of fiery perfidy in the
name of Lucifer—Himself laughing boisterously at God
all the while not knowing the coming angelic answer.
The Almighty Lord works indeed in the most mysterious
of ways and He will not let his Fallen Angel Lucifer (or
“The Devil” on Earth) have His way by murdering
innocents through His Dragon proxy only too willing to
serve His Master to bring horrible hideous death to all
of mankind who fall within its flight path and intention
to inflict the most treacherous and dastardly plan of
of unmitigated death and horror ever to be unleashed.
Continued burning flesh 2
Liam McDaid and Gary Bateman – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (November 28, 2014)
(Free Verse poetic format)
Once active, my muse has gone on strike
I said come back, she said go take a hike!
I tried dipping my pen in dark ink
hand on brow; I’ve attempted to think
I began writing a very sad sonnet -
ended up with a second rate nonet!
Next I thought I would write a fun verse
t’was not funny it sounded quite terse
Guess my muse has just drifted away
I think she’s gone on a long holiday!
Now abroad she is on a sojourn
and I wonder when she will return
Till then I’m a part time poet
I’m bereft and I really know it!
Part time poet Contest
Sponsored by Michelle Faulkner
6/7/19
Salve for the soul in healing sound
Rhythms balm spreads in division
Lifts the hour high
Explodes the troubled mind to calm
Birds Interpret song on wild notes
Orchestrations with crescendos fly
Rise with symphonic melted hearts
Murmuring violins, strings together, meld
Overtures dawn with the song respond
Repeating every measure operatic
Movements operate on scores created
On levels not recorded simply on their merit
Far from civilization primal saxophones blast
Jazz discordant jungles awake inhabitants
Afraid, stir in the fields, collaborate
Instruments strike a wonder cord, relax
Falling rain that drops one note away
Stay up any way
Try not to reason with the rain
On pastures pure meandering
Rock and roll misgivings earthquake the dead
Bring them back to life with melodies
Raw streaming strings and drums, melodic sounds
Listeners never miss a beat, good enough to eat
Green waves of grass will laugh in harmony
Grow closer to an open concert stage
Quiver for an instant explanation
One that never came
Nearer than you will ever be
To solid ground in symphony
Feel a mystery evolve unsolved
Far from the here and now
There is something in the air not there, perhaps salvation
Far from the common cold, almost a religion, not quite a song
In musics realm, tilted towards the left, the brass section
Trombones for sure to settle the final score finale