Long Taboo Poems
Long Taboo Poems. Below are the most popular long Taboo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Taboo poems by poem length and keyword.
~ZOMBIE NIGHT~
WHINING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes
Ascension of the dead -Longing to live again
Sands of desert flip the hour glass back
WHIMPERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes
Taking light from where evil stays
Feeding away leaving behind a death valley zone
WONDERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Dead souls forsake the common land
Shadowing like Equinox light
Walking corpse covered in rotten barren sand
WINDY WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Upright, forward broken taboo
Searching for the perfect breath of fresh air
Sounds of symbols march the ground
Searching to find their missing heartbeat
WHISKING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Ascension of the dead -Long to live again
Bones slowly desert distorted resting home
Moonlight vanishing in complete despair
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
WHEN WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
by;PD
Walking becoming overcoming.
Orion becomes Jesus walking on water.
Trek trudge and stumble, taking it in stride.
Bearing a cross of torment and torture.
Struggling slogging shepherding,
slaving in blood mixed tears.
Walking through light and shadow.
Sleep meandering, dreams seamlessly
mingle with stumbling lumbering,
slumbering shamble, ambling ramble.
Roving roaming range, radius reached,
realms always remembered.
Walking the footpath through rainforest.
Sizzling amour fou ardor, fevered fervor.
Lascivious among the leaves,
captive to carnality.
Fleshly forbidden found only
in the taboo soil of impulses.
Walking in the aurora of first light.
Sprinting agape beneath spectral wavy prismatic sky.
Darting dashing driving toward a new day.
Racing rushing for radiant rays wrapping the horizon.
Igniting the dark, blazing the trail in a neonate morning,
advancing the awaiting adventure.
Walking with friends and lovers.
Parading promenading propelled plantigrade.
Globetrotting every continent, every consideration,
every awareness and attentiveness.
The common blanket sweeping overall.
Let the celebration of being begin.
Heartbreak
I live my life as if I'm longing
If I'm longing
But I've tried rushing before
Score
It was a hopefulness
Heartbreak
Now I can't find the joyousness without you
It was a hopefulness
And every soul is true
A review for you and me
You feel taboo
Through due thoughts
When I'm with you, all I have is storming thoughts
I need a done past
Mournfulness, mournfulness - I feel just like a mournfulness
I feel impermissible
A done past
And every grief is overcast
I feel enforced
Wrapped up all in this
Heartbreak, heartache,
Heartbreak, Heartbreak
Baby, I live your tribulations
that’s why I need one of those revelations
I'm taking 'til dawn
Confessing my wrongs
Please be forgiving…
Mournfulness, mournfulness - I feel just like a mournfulness
I feel impermissible
A done past
and every grief is overcast
I feel enforced
Wrapped up all in this
Heartbreak, heartache,
Heartbreak, Heartbreak
I live my life as if I'm longing
If I'm longing
But I've tried rushing before
Score
It was a hopefulness
Heartbreak
Now I can't find the joyousness without you
It was a hopefulness
And every soul is true
A review for you and me
You feel taboo
Through due thoughts
When I'm with you, all I have is storming thoughts
I need a done past
Mournfulness, mournfulness - I feel just like a mournfulness
I felt so impermissible
A done past I’m over it
And every grief is overcast
I feel reinforced
Wrapped up all this present and past all of this
These Heartbreak, heartache
10/4/70
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 1970, 2019©
You shouldn't know the colour of falling light
As it descends into the abyss of passion.
When limbs intertwine in sweet complete delight
And the thin skin wraps the fiery flesh
In the soothing caress of the conductor's hand
Cris crossing and cutting the air afresh
With his smooth effervescent and pulsating baton.
You shouldn't know the colour of his seduction,
His ragged jagged downward pointing chin,
The tangled mangled wilderness of his beard,
The forceful resourcefulness of his kisses,
The colours of that fascinating rude tattoo.
The feeling of injection and quick retraction,
You shouldn't know the colour of his flame,
Or the sound of his intoxicating and secret name
You must somehow savour with hungry lust.
Eyes rolling back as you inevitably fall
It is all some God almighty magnetic rich taboo.
His name, his eyes, the things you will recall
In the lonely moments of night time longing,
When you know it was all a dreadful act of wronging
That must be forever pushed aside, inside, denied,
Far away from the colour of the falling light.
© Allen Ansell 2025
Trigger Warning: This poem deals with themes of self-harm. Please read with care.
--
my skin felt like a blank canvas
every time they faded.
i felt empty
my urges unsatisfied.
i had to give in;
just one time,
i told myself again.
i marked the canvas
angry veins of crimson swiped along the pale surface;
each stroke with more intent than the last.
the canvas wasn’t blank anymore;
it was tainted by my own scars.
i did this to myself.
the weight of my own hands agreed.
i panicked as i felt my arms sting,
was this an artist’s masterpiece or a crime scene?
i was always punished for such taboo actions,
why did i keep trying to hide what was branded onto the canvas,
always there, only able to be concealed.
even as temperatures rose, my sleeves became my bandages,
the summer sun never did see my arms.
Many books are written by demons,
none by angels. Angels will not write
for they were never human.
Demons were and are human,
and they are very skillful,
they know how to hide evil messages
with a moderate and quasi-intellectual language.
Nowadays they have turned to writing children’s books,
because demons know a child cannot be
turned to evil too soon.
To demons, murder and sex are the same,
hate and love are the same,
grey areas and moral equivalency are their craft and guile
for they know how to distort and twist an argument,
make it to seem just and fair to the weak minded.
God never wrote a book, God channels Truth
through we humans,
only in this respect, this working through humans,
are God and the demons the same.
You might ask: If God is All that is,
(and God is),
how then can there be demons?
The simple answer is that minds
that have turned to the darkness
while in the earthy state
continue to corrupt humans
when released from this earth -
those beings could be called 'demons'.
Even these beings are the All THAT IS,
God simply waits for them to realize
their self-imposed separation.
The power is in you
to be a conduit for the Light or the Dark.
You might say: yes of course I know this,
but humans should train themselves to ‘know’ this
in their hearts.
Read and write through the eyes of God,
it is entirely possible, and indeed natural.
There are no taboo or irreligious subjects,
the profane and sacred meet where Truth is.
You will be shown where the light abides
and where the dark waits in secret.
Always challenge and question
who or what reads and writes through you.
May God be your eyes and ears.
I wrote a poem of despair
My hearts been tossed up into the air
She wrote a limerick that was taboo
She made me laugh when I was so blue
Entering stage left was Tim
Writing of past lovers sins in a hymn
It seems that we laugh or we cry
We live, we love, or we die
The three of us, holding poetic swords up high
Throughout the ages we all do fly
No subject goes unspoken
For the freedom of words we've awoken
No battle to long or too fierce
Our duels are true and unrehearsed.
Through blood, sweat and tears
A bond so strong that sweetens the years
All for one and one for all
Let us carry on and have a ball!
Loneliness is the lump in your throat
and the darkest place in the soul
A situation, a civil status ...
no social contacts
You've heard it before, but it's still taboo
behind the sparkling facade
... the painful loneliness
in every breath
Uphill puts things in perspective
Nothing in life comes with guarantees
My physical presence is here ... without attending
and you don't see me
Let the past die ... what happens if I kill it ?
I need to develop myself, give me strength and energy
The fear of being rejected ...
heartbeat that threatens to set a new record
An eagle flying alone on drifting clouds
Clouds just need air currents to soar
That's when I thought of
William Wordsworth's words :
"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud"
29.01.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Famous poetic lines that inspire
“I wandered lonely as a cloud” by William Wordsworth
Sponsored by: Silent One
2nd place in the contest
They say you’ve made many mistakes building your frail life
that collapsed engulfing you in smoke of trouble and strife.
If in time you had wisely taken the right and calculated step,
avoided aggravation, you wouldn’t have been in mouse trap.
On trivial pursuit you took in rapid sequence needless risk,
when at the cross-road the correct course you couldn’t fix.
Likewise, hearing things you surrendered tamely to taboo,
to open the locked door of the password you had no clue.
The decisions you make at the time’s point in the present
morph to mistakes as with the flow to the past they’re sent.
You’re sorry for the operation of cranium that does boggle you,
search the mind, know someone ordains, you can’t guess who.
If you harbor mistaken sense that on your life you’ve monopoly
you’ll scrabble for the vague perfection, but won’t spot it really.
On the tide of invisible time someone gives you ticket to ride
within, hear the soul speak out, ‘move on, keep mistakes aside’.
March 2, 2019
What can we expect from a government denying God's plan
that speaks in parseltongue the language of snakes
this which is a skill that converses through black magic
pretending to care it focuses on taboo subject matter
How blind has become the darkness surrounding these souls
they start shedding when the light illuminates their heart's desire
working tirelessly bending the will of many to comply and submit
let's thread the needle and pinpoint the words fear
Where the fruits of this deception grows without roots
rotten apples trying to spread an agenda removing choice
there is only one Law I obey these days and it sure as hell is not man made