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.
"Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house;
can you hear the whispering?"
Quote by _Constance La France
I hear the whispers from those chimes
still swinging on the splintered porch;
where windows, once in happy times,
shone brightly neath the lantern's torch.
Abandoned now, the old house moans
as wind chimes strike with sadness too.
I feel the heartbreak in the tones
that echo loss of what it knew.
The gloom and emptiness impart
that signs of living are now gone;
the gatherings within its heart
now missed where coziness was drawn.
The wind chimes whisper in the breeze;
lament the loss of happy days.
As sadness murmurs through the trees-
forlorn, bereft- the house decays.
May 27, 2023
Writing Challenge - C Quotes - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Quote Chosen: No. 3
Bring your juicy mouth close to mine ,
in this dark room .
You love me , that’s what you tell me all the time and I pretend to believe you .
Caress my glorious back ,
as smooth as a calm sea .
Whisper in my ear all the cliche words of your ancestors,
while I pretend to tremble to the deepest nerves of my bones.
Your bed smells like old meaningless battles;
The subtle perfume of one day flowers ,
moans entangled by smoke .
Even so , I allow myself to rest cozily inside your embrace .
Listening to your black heart that beats like steel drums,
because
wickedness is easily ignored in the dark .
Your deceit , my motives , my wise skin,
this sterile desire , this aimlessly passion,
this embrace that tomorrow will be the cause of more pain.
In the dark , I can’t see your sword ready to strike me tomorrow.
In the dark ,you can’t see my dagger with which I end you today .
Your broke into my fantasy
With large dose of reality
You banished every dream in flight
Caught each one in your snare of night
You invaded my Eden home
Changed every fairy to a gnome
My small corner of paradise
Blocked by your flaming sword of lies
Each constellation of desire
You flung down into the mire
The flowers round my bowing head
You turned to prickly thorns instead
Why not let me live out my dream?
A nightmare flood you made the stream
How hard is it to let me be?
Immersed in passion’s ecstasy?
Why not with kindness walk on by?
Why suck my love till it runs dry?
My rendez vous with joyful bliss
You betrayed with your Judas kiss
Now on the floor with broken wings
Reality Dose…how it stings!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
PS....the seed for this poem...Reality Dose...was planted and germinated out of a conversation I had JUST this afternoon chatting with GURU JAD! Never know when inspiration will strike! :)
I had not smelled their breath.
With my request to please refrain from smoking on the train,
his sudden question came while pinning to the door, "Have you ever had",
as forehead smashed my face, "a Glasgow Kiss?" breathed from his lips,
falling glasses to the floor.
Then peace.
For a moment I was blind, blind by short of sight, but heart and breath seemed strange at ease, as turning face to face two men,
I spoke the words not quite my own, more heaven's word proclaimed,
of Jesus slain, of Jesus blood, of forgiveness and of Jesus love.
All safe.
Right arm held high to strike was tightly chained. He wrestled but was now held fast by unseen bond, while snarling mouth's salivad froth, with reddened eyes now terrified, his lips could only stutter:
WHAT?! and WHAT?! and WHAT?!
Yet, peace upon that crowded train, and silence.
No sound.
Not a move from passengers frozen both in time and heart, save one brave man who crawled on fours and picking up my lense and frame held up from floor for me to take while I stood near to wait,
to wait by opened doors.
Still peace.
As though all time stood still, and all of it was mine to do, to do as I would will, and doors would close just when I chose, not before or late,
as I stood by those open doors, as safe beside those men as platform's near escape.
No rush.
And when I chose to leave, the doors came to their close. I will never know what scene was left that day.
But I believe and witness this, that heaven had its way.
no bruise was on my face, my lens eased back in place.
High heaven came to kiss that day, and I can only pray
kissed Glasgow on his face.
I have two sisters whom I love and adore
We are poets who can write of blood and gore.
Evil, Wicked, and Demented are our nicknames
Being fun and shocking is a few of our games.
Evil, for that, is I
Has had enough people lie
And tell me of their fearful woes
To only find they were only foes.
Evil has an "evil" mind
That can deliciously find
What may not be normal to some
To me can be quite exquisite fun.
Wicked is learning to find
Her very own peace of mind.
That man with a black soul
Her heart he had done stole.
Wicked's mind is so "wickedly" twisted
That her vengeance can't be listed.
But make no idiotic mistake
She can strike you just like a snake.
Demented is the one who knows
How to reel in all the beaus.
She can smile so delightfully sweet
And men seem to just fall at her feet.
Her mind is the most bizarre
She can be the evilest by far.
On her face, you will see a beautiful smile
While inside "demented" schemes most vile.
We are each who we are
All a particular shining star
Separately a Libra, Capricorn, and Leo
Collectively, we are The Haunted Trio.
Out of hell’s breath the Devil’s Coachman comes and turns
around the tale to woe twists as the world creeps backwards
underneath the clay slithering sacrificial savagery begins
Ghastly ghostly spectres watch on with soulless glee
under laid this icy moon the toxic evil venom spews
within hideous precision it claw’s innocent victims prey
Fiercely gnashing jaws instinctively in this fiendish predator of night shades
dark striking off balance this stead of hell delivers his deadliest of blows
disturbingly the pungent smell permeates this surrounding sphere
Paralyzing unwary sufferers arching like a scorpion ready to strike
acrimony spreads stealthily through the shadowy invasion within the beast’s bite
suffering of hades destructive force inflicts a prelude to the apparitions
Awakening within this lair of madness an unsuspecting sacrifice
blinding under tombstones creeping slowly chill’s out
through one veil of darkened soil a nocturnal predator comes to feed
Liquefying resistant victim within the glaze of ebony eyes
mystic powers claiming to be magic crushing the core of Eve’s apple
emerging covered with its sclerotized plates the Coachman devours
Repast of putrid skin the last victim lies rotten
one captured soul sinks into the river of Acheron
final reward for the unwitting wounded prey
Begins eternal downward descent
drawn up and treasured by this hungry decedent of a Rove
carried away into hidden hollows of the dead roaring
Fiercely jealous of it’s captive trophy
sector’s remain vigilant to guard such treasured stored
this Coachman’s rightly domain claims a legion to an underworld
The deepest and darkest secrets expelled unrighteous
this scarabaeus reaper as black inside with a rapier blade and sickle
condemned are the two faced between thee jaws of this deadly fiend locked on
A co-written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman
Rays of a warring star where the eclipse
Trying for his dune by the sands of the lighter eye
Kaleidoscope into which the opus
Right into night the stallions of colossal strike
And among the night lovers
Between the prismatic mare
A small trace to come to render
The array of less than fonder tears
For the belly of the sun is most in leisure
Where the velvet cast upturns the rain
Utmost to the lifting homage
The barring of the telling tie
Very close as comfort would hurry garnets in the snow
A feline so mystique where dreams collide with night
So nature along all boughs of love
For smitten in the shadows of the day
I AM VIRGO
Remember the girl at the
Convent who started
The peanut butter strike
Because she thought it was right?
Remember in dual heritage
Where, this now woman mentions
That her British side is
Somewhat obstinate?
Well if I am of dual decent,
I am two Virgo’s in one,
That makes up the sum
Of me!
And almost always,
These two Virgos
Never agree!
They clash,
And are both brash,
I step back
Waiting for them
To work it out,
Just now they will come
To blows and one will
Knock the other out!
The Greek gets heated,
And the English,
Sometimes defeated,
And then it’s repeated,
Until both, feel depleted.
I have a splitting headache,
For they are always present
I tell them to stop,
This is my life,
I am the Virgo wife ,
And will be until I die,
So behave and please
Don’t make me cry!
Can’t face untidiness around,
As I am bound
To take strain,
If I see dust or a small stain.
But my poetry corner
Is quite another thing,
That is where I have an
Absolute bling fling!
I don’t suffer fools lightly
Says the Greek Virgo,
But tell them politely,
Says the English Virgo!
There they are again
In my head,
I’m treading a fine line,
To keep them in this rhyme!
I Love to keep a warm,
Loving home,
I am a caring mother and wife
Who always carry’s her phone.
I feel fiercely, about everything,
It’s just my way, I
Emphatically insist that the family,
All have an equal say!
Both English and Greek Virgos
Agree with this,
And hug and give each
Other a kiss.
The Greek Virgo sings,
Love must be felt from the start,
And the English one adds,
Like a spear piercing your heart,
Wonderful, we finally agree,
that I am both a
Greek and English Virgo,
Which is the total sum of me!
The Russians are coming.
Listening to Portuguese Tv, there is talk of a third wave
of the coronavirus, it is not a wave that flattens out like the calm sea.
It will strike when people get careless and insist on celebrating
X. mass (Jesus can do without his birthday for once) can you?
Then there is the pesky New Year, food, alcohol and dancing
oblivious of the virus that is looking in ready to strike.
The best we can do is to wear a mask, stay indoors and
If you must have a drink with Facebook or the skype.
The Russian has a vaccine that is good and powerful but
we are so Russia phobic we think of lies told by the press
that extoll an American vaccine that the makers of the
the vaccine is not sure of if it really works.
Coronavirus has become politics, and that is gloomy
For us all.
Chef Knight.My sweet so dear brief
we had your eyes and ears short
your smiles cries tears... I remember
the day you stood near. Just and
outlined against the wall peering in
thru air at what couldn't be. UinMe.
Never told no, never said to myself so
but that day before we knew, I saw
your halo. "I wanna play" I heard you
say, yes, I did.
Torn away like a strike of a match
as fast as that overnight from delight
to fright, we got the call. "...sick and
at the hospital..."
Crashing down like waves of water
colored less without your laughter
deeper still the drowning thunder
standing chill as they eased you under.
Into Earth we returned you. Wake
of Night in candles we mourned you.
Under seas of shattering winds we
spoke your name as they pushed
aside blinds and inside the rain came.
I'm sorry I never returned. So
long ago but forever remains in
my eyes will be the memory of our
lives. I was frighten to confirm
that what I saw that playful day
was your SOL to slip away...
I'm sorry that I never came.
I just didn't want to know
that I knew it again.Back then.
~My Soul, in U.
.solace.
.to my friend who died at 24.
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