Long Suspense Poems
Long Suspense Poems. Below are the most popular long Suspense by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Suspense poems by poem length and keyword.
Standing with defiance,
as a woman on her own.
Like the young Mr. Dylan,
she too was a rolling stone.
Star of the screen and stage,
her moves of sweet suspense.
Known for her high energy,
and musical reverence.
Icons of the era,
call her Queen of Thunderdome,
She got what she wanted,
and made the world her home.
The memory of her,
rolling on the river.
The honor of character,
not a taker but giver.
Now forever on video,
again she'll be all the rage.
For the new generation,
a bright star of the stage.
date: 6/18/23
Contest: What's Love Got To Do With It ?
sponsor: John Anderson
The water gushes through rocks
Sounding like whispers of fondness
Or shouts of frantic screeches
But you never get to actually witness
the need or the prospect of
Either advances, oh bless!
An eternal struggle
Of maintaining the balance
Between knowing and not
And learning the dance
Between awareness
And Ignorance,
That is how we live
And oh, how we prance!
The clueless suspense
With every wait and delay,
And the boiling rage
For an injustice we pay,
What with the pleasure
On the sight of a loved soul
And the pain that pierces
With a separation, even eternal,
Can create the space we occupy –
The not-so-very-sweet middle!
Exists in an unsaid word
The space of mystery,
Around the period of pause
The place of uncertainty,
Within the confines of restraints
The state of impossibility,
Circling the unknowns
The bay of possibility,
And yet, to all pictures so wonderous
Oh how with confidence, we pose for posterity!
Is it the earth
And its non-stop motion
Or the air
With its ever present notion
Or, is it the infinite universe
Boasting its obscurities
That has lured us to persist
Amidst the parallel realities --
In the blissful ignorance,
We ignore at every instance?!
Yet, Ironically,
Between two polarities
there is life -
despite crammed amidst emptiness,
Riddled and confounded
By its messy and fantastic entices!
And, oh how very hard we try
To attain, or are we little more wise?
Does that question,
Fortunately, or unfortunately,
Or ever so slightly
Lie in the gap so innately -
And maybe,
Just maybe,
We might never know –
Simply never,
Not with any shake or quiver!
Far from the prodding eyes
He toiled,
with the wits and strength of men,
like thousand armies,
He bore the world with words
Till mortal frame fell,
dying to all the world calls good,
with the flickering embers of his own dreams,
He bowed in suspense and silence,
Beaten,
Battered,
And broken by death
he veiled his scar,
bleeding,
and the sparkles of life lose their shine in the eyes
save the heat of stale tears,
keep the bayonet in the scabbard,
The wars are over,
Death, it had its power in suspense
from the hung cross, he died to all,
and this, It kills but once,
The struggle is done,
Mourners on the street.
A star is removed from vain toil,
Beaten,
Battered,
And broken.
pain now paean,
the vanity toil is over,
aches now veiled,
Time, passing time.
pilgrims walks thy earth,
unknown, unsought, unsung,
Yet Happily they go.
earth's slavery over.
Pour your jars of unshed tears
into our empty dregs
Mortality transformed,
into another realm
break these iron walls of silence
Speak to voiceless frame now in glory
they look down but not back,
all the silent wishes are over
Cherished dreams suspended!
Speak,
Life is wilting
Speak to time,
ere the Morning comes,
where men says'
Adieu.
POOP - TALE : for contest
No embarrassment , everyone poops
So relaxed is the feel after all 's out
No gold and riches can ever buy such feel
I am sure all will agree silently though!
We get that feel for free as nature calls
In body, poop factory is so well- fitted
Based on our lifestyle it is regulated
Frequency n' timing our habits decide
As far as we breathe , we have to poop
No matter where you are, who you are...
How many times daily varies with species and diet...
Bamboos and honey diet makes Panda bears poop,
more than a forty times in a single day !
In other species range follows bell shaped curve
A balanced input-output cycle continues..
Doctors diagnose ailments examining poop,
Sausage shape is ideal poop the doc opines..
Mothers of kids worry if they cry while they poop
Too much delay makes happy a trader in laxatives!
Night soil in fields have made a fertile land
Poop of cattle folk is a manure too good
Everyone poops and is so useful too...
Deadlines and work pressure,meetings with boss
Petty tussles with friends or your own spouse.
Ask for a break saying you need to poop
Instantly you are permitted and you may slide out
Enjoy this break behind washroom doors !!
No more shy business, everyone poops!
Engrossed in reading a suspense thriller,
Or watching the climax of a movie horror
As soon as poop siren raises alarm, you got to go!
Ultimate rule is please don't control
Happily you poop poop poop and flush out !
FOR CONTEST- EVERYONE POOPS
Sponsored by:Roy Jerden
Submitted by: Anulaxmi Nayak
Date: 9th August 2015
glossary:
Bell shaped curve: the normal distribution curve
which has values of all ranges and takes a bell-shape.
"Such comfort in precise chaos. Waiting for the unexpected, I join Beethoven to immerse myself in wonder when thunder and lightning unite." Quote by the poet.
Boldly dark and pure as the cold night's stormy throng.
Thunder has begun it’s familiar fifth symphony song.
Leaving the listener unsure what to expect all alone.
Beethoven switches to a lighter tune instead of his dark tone.
A tinkling as the rain begins, he uses spiccato to give perfect light.
A less grand repetition of the original notes as winds take flight.
Building in anticipation until the climax of the first theme.
A solo of horns, a transition with the loss of the sun’s beam.
The sky produces an aqua hue by each blinding lightning flash.
Thunder roars, the sky now a soft pastel hue as wind and hail crash.
Beethoven offers bridges to weld the grandeur of his blizzard prone play.
Frost is forming turning the sapphire hue fading to a pastel bouquet.
Following, suspense of his opening the piano takes us to strings.
Full orchestra, Da Darrr Da -Darrr Da Darrr Da -Darrr it springs.
Tempo lighter, airier which is juxtaposed with the timpani drums.
The soft gentle snow, now hurtled by deafening wind, silence comes.
For the second stream of Beethoven’s sonata allegro its making way.
Cyan-tinged icicles decorate the surroundings, peace resumes her sway
Season’s storm has freshened the landscape with her blanket now warm.
Yet nothing can compare with the brilliance of the raging thunder storm.
It's not the pitch-black scene that surrounds me ominously.
Suspense-filled 'what's hidden within?' feelings heavily haunt
Visions of serpents creeping around precariously
Appear and disappear like nightmares and jeeringly taunt
Though, sometimes, death-like is this dark environment outside.
There's a purgatory-like gloom encircling me within.
From the angels of inner illumination, I hide
My wrath, rage, hate, and mercilessness throw me into sin.
A glimpse of awareness, yet, like a little ray, is seen.
A lamp of optimism, though flickering, is burning still.
Why should I be my foe? Nay. May my friendship with me clean.
Shouldn't I, like an enlightened self, do the divine will?
The nectar brim fills when petals unfold in detachment.
Hungry flies and bees around drink to their hearts' contentment.
Attachment, aversion, and delusion are malignant.
Defeating darkness, I find existential fulfilment.
How would one find
The design of my mind?
Where would I start?
Guess I’ll start a la carte
I’d have wallpaper puppies
And flickers of flame
In candles of crystal
The sizes the same
There’d be three tiers of table
And tassels and tents
Now on my bed, there would be
Sheets of suspense
I’d have rugs shagalicious
And fragrance of flowers
With artwork of aardvark
And three whisky sours
If that weren’t enough
I’d have cocktails of cunning
Mosaics of murals
That would be rather stunning
But as for the color,
My favorite hue?
Well that would be easy,
A sweet baby blue
2/23/18
Mind Your Paint
Viv Wigley
We were both going to college.
Science class is where we both met,
I was astonished at his knowledge.
My thoughts of him more than friends,
as some girls eyed him with his letter-man sweatshirt.
He was tall and looked so handsome.
When the day's classes were over,
he would walk me to my car.
Sweet dreams of him I yearn to be my lover.
He had a way of setting a forbidden fire within,
soft and warm, revealing beauty that lived
a resting place of a pure soul of sin.
He would press his head upon my neck
And would whisper," Would you."
Time ticked away, a kiss he would peck.
Just one little word, that's all I needed.
The prolonged suspense had taken its toll.
My words were heated as, “No!” I pleaded.
3/10/2023
Pick-A-Title, Vol 35 Poetry Contest 2. Prolonged Suspense
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
I find you alone
in your favorite room of sorrow and suspense,
the woman I cherish more than victory or divine sense,
long untouched, you stare into a sonnet of romantic sadness,
supple shadows dress you in stubborn, gothic passion, a quiet finesse,
they know that I am the speed of your tears and the lover in your trance,
as I see what your heart has wept for, tender acceptance
I understand why my soul seeks your emotional opulence,
with my powerful hands I hug those lonely, sexy shoulders of tired independence,
knowing by the ease of your neck's pining tilt, by the searching gap of your starving lips
no longer are you startled by our love, no more will you deny the lust righteous,
gliding the backs of my fingers up under your smooth chin skin, beauty so generous,
I find you passion thrown,
I undo your bodice and your soft feminine flesh opens onto me
radiating craving that glorifies yearning,
I entreat you to grab my hard affection, to feel the firm rush replete
to place the head of my love within you like a heavy heartbeat,
you obey with unquestioning need, eyes alight, thighs wide
I lunge in deeply, completely, pushing through you a pleasure tide
as you breathe in the handsome shock of your fulfillment
I kiss the soft space inbetween your sumptuous breasts and taste wild wonderment -
J.A.B.
worshipful master’s fez kept slipping off his head.
he was irritated and blamed the trumpet flower.
tittering faeries kept him irritated, this honored Ted.
Ted sat in their bouquet, annoyed by their power.
they had him all confused and curiously tense.
with their girly charms and their faerie ways.
he sat among their giggling in masculine suspense.
wondering what they had in mind for him these days.
smiling smirking faeries are first fun, but they sometimes turn.
his grandpa found out when his heart was captured by one.
gramps lives a life of toil and work, driven hard by his wife Fern.
a faerie who keeps him busy while she flies off and has the fun.