Long Tanks Poems
Long Tanks Poems. Below are the most popular long Tanks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tanks poems by poem length and keyword.
Don't worry about her they said
Her bark is worse than her bite
But what they didn't know
Is that she used her claws to fight
Suddenly she changed before their eyes
The abusers stopped and stared
She had finally had enough
She would make them hurt and scared
She felt the anger boil and rise
Her soul turned black as night
She knew she would enjoy the chase
As the abusers all took flight
She would make them see
The hate through her own eyes
Make her the one they fear
With torment like their lies
She chased them through the town
Down alleyways and lanes
Chasing them towards the sewers
The water tanks and drains
She would show them helpless
Show them bullied and abused
She would show that people
Are not play things to be used
They sought the safety of the tunnels
But little did they know
That she would drive them forward
To the place she used to go
The black and swirling water
Looked like a giant eye
"Please make your last requests,
Its time to say goodbye"
She crouched down low beside them
In a predatory stance
"You could apologise you know,
I'll give you one last chance"
One girl dropped down on bended knees
Sobbed and begged for life
She felt her anger subside a little
Took her had off the hunting knife
The second girl just stared below
At the swirling water deep
And floods of regret and sorrow
Made her collapse and start to weep
The last and final girl
Decided to stand her ground
They faced each other solidly
Neither made a sound
The girl extended her hand
Towards the girl that she despised
And saw her breathing calm a little
The blackness leave her eyes
The girl took one step forward
Her fingers reaching out
Not knowing how this was to end
Or what it was about
Her fingers pushed through anger
Through layers of hate and lies
The nights of pain and anguish
The unheard and unloved cries
Her fingers touched the skin
So old and thin to touch
She felt the pain and sorrow
And finally knew how much
She stepped into the body
Crouched upon the floor
And felt the ice that froze her
Right to the very core
Together they moved to stand up
To approach the other two
This was when it had to end
The point that they all knew
Now the soul was shattered
In four distinctive parts
But they must learn to work together
For they don't have separate hearts.
Form:
As the dusk approaches, with a fusk grunt on his face,
He realizes he has to do what's right;
To save his people from the treacherous minotaur maze,
To risk his life for people in vain.
As the sail shall not be great, he decides to travel with fate.
But truly he thinks it will be wise.
As they set off with the black flags, he promises old deer king they will change
If he survives;
With a glimmering glow from the waters below he sets sail for the island.
Miles and Miles sea after sea the destination comes nearly to a stop
With gusting winds and blushing seas, they’ve made it, at last.
While being stripped of his weapons and armor,
He notices a watching, Deer old princess of the kingdom
While her eyes glimmer at him, he looks away with unsought
Enter the Maze says one of the guards,
They all embark into the cave.
The Princess had given Theseus a sword, as he will use wisely
Standing back in the darkness the children look around,
Nothing but pitch darkness around,
Instead of staying there they decide to explore
But beware of the night before.
With a sword in his hand and rope in the other
He notices a shadow in the darkness,
The children stay back while Theseus steps forward
Confronts the beast with another step forward
With heavy breathing and death on the side
It's time for the fight he thought with a sigh.
With a Shock to the head, Theseus falls back
Gets on his feet and Shocks him back, the minotaur has been wounded
With more hits after and after the minotaur falls with a cry
Tangled in pain Theseus tanks and cut the enemy
Waiting for it to fall
To cell to the floor.
As they embark the ship again,
He comes with the princess to an island,
While he leaves her there they continue off to join the journey
To off to the king with a surprise,
Unlikely they forgot to change the sails from black
To white, so the king decides to do something unright.
The king sees the black sail and knows the worst,
With a jump, he had did
To off the cliff, he had went
So many outs he had made, while Theseus came back
And heard the news
Of the fallen king
With a joust, he had did
With a celebration understood
The newly king has been awakened
But something wasn't right,
All that night he thought of his father
Sitting and pondering with gonder.
©ChandlerFisher_2017
In the deepest shadows of life,
we threatened to disappear from inside and die from outside due to an endemic or experimental weapon designed to kill or perhaps a designated terrorist sent for a mission from behind closed doors in a lab, who knows? crawling and moving around the world killing. What did they? what did we? And What did I? ever do, to be a scapegoat of your ruthlessly executions, ask me no questions, I will tell you no lies. To some level we tried to contain and mitigate, you disappeared
for a short while Oh! relieved we were!
You reproach in another move
more complicated, hybrid, degenerated and more touch-and-go,
rather perilous enough to clear humanity from the face of the Earth
orphaning many children, widowing a peck of mothers, killing quite a hatful of fathers, robbing off a wat of children from thy mothers and fathers, killing thy sons and daughters, fathers and mothers of this world.
East to west and west to East,
tanks of tears flow for your atrocities. North to south and South to North,
echoes of the grieving hearts are loud heard,
a reflection of the mournful and bleeding world due to your flagitious crimes.
You kill the young and old daily in biggest… some survive you perhaps the lucky who are living like they are dying?
thus, their hearts bleeding for thy cuts of you.
You’re are a lethal war with no guns or ammunitions, Perhaps world war three, a weapon Or designated terrorist hiding and striking with spotless character in our amidst, premeditated terrorist I presume!
Moving in the streets hunting for contacts, killing without empathy and compassion but just cupid and thirsty to attack
leaving families weeping and grieving
while their long faces lugubriously reflecting hidden and unexpressed pain for the uncalled suffering and their throats
gulped with a plethora of vengeance.
Psychological tortures and insanities you bring, we recover No! No!
Our profound supplications are heard by our benign Parent whose hands we are, on Earth to fight knowing that one day you will drop to quietus, that one day we will be just as brilliant and ready for any other attacks of your-like,
but for now, we just blades of grass trying to reclaim the normal, because before you were, we were. I wonder as I wander so God help.
Copyright © Abol Andrew Moses Chrispus 2021
The food was indeed, Greek.
My first Greek Frappe!
A most divine, heavenly treat.
Gods must have created this.
So far beyond good!
In gigantic glasses,with ice chips.
It was as good as an Ouzo on the rocks!
The Festival on Saturday was terribly
overcrowded,
I wanted to leave,before it started.
Fashion in the USA,no kidding has truly
grown retarded!
I like seeing men as men, not dressed as
obese 13 year old boys, sporting baseball
caps.
And the beauty of women?
Tossed away like toys, now women
only dress as boys?
My years are catching up with me,
I must hearedtdly admit.
I wanted to run from an American
culture that is so far from fashion
phenomenally adrift!
Like buffalo we were overcome with
the most fashionably unfit.
I sat with my daughter drinking a
Frappe.
And my only thought was how soon
and how fast we could get away!
I lost my appetite to eat with American
bisons!
With god-ugly toes jutting out of
cheap, plastic flip-flops.
Fat leaping out of obnoxious holes on
jeans of 300 pound women?
Ah, kill me now and let me go to
heaven!
I lost my appetite to eat midst this
hellish plethora of dirty feet.
And hair from hell to top off this
ungodly, human feat.
Then came beautiful girls, their
arms skewed with tattoos so ugly.
My desire to escape hit me much
more than suddenly.
I did have a Pastitsio, that was
yummy!
Just had to keep my eyes off the
volcanic, bulging tummies.
Thank goodness there were not
many children there!
Their mothers, the size of German
tanks would have squashed them
into instant mummies!
I did buy an icon of Christos and
Panayiota holding her child
Both in a carved wooden case.
Now this brought a smile to my
face!
And a turquoise evil-eye bracelet
with crystals, to ward off any
future toe and bison disgrace!
Greek bread we brought to take
home.
I swore up and down to never
leave my home, to roam.
Greek cookies, Kourabiedes,
and Greek bread, seemed to
calm my confused head.
Perhaps, going on a Saturday
was the worst possible choice.
Maybe I can go blindfolded next
year and hush my voice?
Or not go at all?
Still have PTSD, after what I
always previously I experienced
as a yearly treat.
It once was like going to a ball!
September 10, 2029
The attendees were not Greeks.
Form:
Space Rock Climber was born to the void
On an asteroid named for its ores and metals
Orbiting the sun one year after another
Morning never comes
Day never breaks
Silence goes on forever dead
A 10 year old son abandoned by parents
Who moved back to their home planet, Earth
The boy climbs rocks for a living on a rock
Food ran out two years ago
The climber turned to stones and minerals
Surviving on dirt sustenance alone
Rocks stay in place forever with their flavor
Easy to hunt down in craters
Black skies scream at the stars
Lack of atmosphere, depleted air
Low oxygen, no spare tanks, parental lies
Laid out on the platform of dark horizons
No one lives for long in outer space
Parents should not leave their children all alone
Like so much liter waste and weightlessness
He forgot their names
Embraced the great beyond as his domain
They had no room on board the ship they said
If only he were a little lighter
Perhaps he would fit between the gold and silver
Shipments of such commodities are revered
Rock climber has no name
It is not needed in this environment
Temperatures run from the sun
From hot to cold as is expected
Climate fluctuates that way in space
The young man stays the same
Stands on solid ground
Time sets no limits on the day
As the asteroid tumbles on
No doubt it has directions figured out
A barren rock is not a proper home
If he could remember, he would forget
It's for the best
Abandonment is not healthy for the mind
Mom and dad left him minors tools
Smiled and gave advice
They told him to climb high ridges
And wave good-bye
It is a trial out in space
Cry’s go unheard and serve no purpose
The vacuum of the void defines survival
This is the only world he knows
Rock Climber goes up the granite inclines
To find minerals for his soul
He grows too old to work
Then something happened
As luck would have it a collision just occurred
An asteroid hit his little world
Hurled him and his rock back home
Finally he would see the Earth
Enter the atmosphere in a hurry
Just in time to tell his mom and dad
Don't worry! Don't burn alone!
I'm here so we can have a blast together
Its cold, clouds grey, no sun to guide me,
hands search for the missing eye that has long since past.
I hear them bicker and curse, do you know what they are?
Slimy slurping dripping muck, the snow has gone, but left my
world with black soot earth.
These creatures seem to thrive on it, thrive on my shallow pit
of existence.
I gather myself, I crack my knees as I bend to pick a limb,
what should go first? Of course my feet to carry me.
With such effort for a pointless quest I begin to think that
there is nothing but death scraping at my neck, hinting at
my demise.
Ages since my trumpets call, they call me home from a
nightmare of cry's and vomit.
My mind begins to flash with imagery beyond comparison,
a child I see inside my heart, is naked, blind, sick and pale,
OH GOD!! Where is the source for this madness.
I have gathered my pieces and attempt to walk, but see
that I have gathered more than my own share of flesh, there
are those that belong to men,the men thats beneath the soil,
the creatures are red inside my nails.
My color is that of a ruby stone, as cold as one and as hard
no doubt.
CRACK! BANG! Lighting and sound rip through the sky, this sound
is not of guns or drums.
The dark sky is fat with victory, it spues out its fill upon me, it washes
my world around me only to reveal my horror.
My comrade, my friends, my enemy's and alas, the child of whom gave
such sadness.
Did I die too? Looking at my broken self, was I tricked to war, yes, this was it,
the price to pay, to pay the earth for its company, it seems we were guests that
outstayed our welcome.
Ha! If we were ever welcomed, I don't think invasion is the same.
So clear now, the rain making sense of it all.
My knees don't crack as I begin to fall.
Cant you see me?I have been killed.
So you can keep your stomach tanks filled.
Thank you all, your prayers are gone.
To feed the horde there victory's won.
Is the memory gone from them?
The world is sane but our race is thin.
Is this world so leaderless?
Mankind is lone, the world is fearless.
Must we die before they see?
No, die but twice before you free.
Do you have the answer?
With blood in hand and gun in holster?
No one has the meaning or an answer to a thing.
Just that they are happy with there life they have to bring.
As the world shifted and divided from whites, Hispanics, and Asians and of course African Americans due to pointless killings from the men in blue, the police. Blacks stormed through their cities protesting and looting. Burning down buildings and franchises that begin to mean very little to them. Blacks from all ages march with angry eyes and balled up fist and crying hearts that beat to a tune that sounded of "justice" Surprisingly non-blacks marched aside of them showing a caring side for once. But it still was not enough to move the cold heart of the president. He sit on his throne in deep thoughts with eyes or anger toward this. He made statements on shooting the looters if it continued. As the looting kept going along with protesters the army got involved as the president stated with not intentions of bluffing. All over the world blacks protested screaming a triumph or peace and justice with tears that many prayed would reach the most high. Right before the army front line infantry pointed their guns at all the black men which was instructed by the president to do so. A loud Now was shouted! Boom!!! Bang!!! they started shooting but every black person who stood in front of them or watched from their homes on television or from across the globe all of a sudden disappeared. The president watching from his throne suddenly swallowed racist hate like spit and his mouth dropped. The army men whom where black was not at the side of the white or Hispanic or Asian shooter nor in the tanks nor in any military to service. They vanished in the blink of a eye. White protesters searched for their black friends who they stood with, with love and a caring heart. Then a old man with a wooden stick that he used to help him walk, with white wool like hair and skin like bronze and his eyes made every one shake in fear. His eyes were like a flame of fire. He then walks up to the army and looks up at the president looking down from a far and he whispered but his whisper was loud touching the ear of all whites and Hispanics and Asians across the globe.
Are you happy now?
Then this mysterious man said. One should never aim to rule nor remain attached to a secondary world. I shall see you all soon and he whispered again softly that only the president could hear this.
"Revelation 13:1-18"
War fire flames pain
Every attack seems in vane
A soldier fights through the pain
Before he will go insane
He kills his enemy with his last breath
Before he himself welcomes death
One of the soldiers crashes through enemy ranks
But ahead of him is battalion of tanks
After colossal battle air is dense
The losses on both sides immense
The survives on the battlefield smell lead
Many are wounded many are dead
The dense mist covers the air
Last rations of food survivors will share
The powder smoke is in part reason for the mist
Warrior comes through the battlefield clinching his fist
The reason for the fight was political
The war was now cyclical
Some hated the other side
But many did not wish the armies to collide
They had to fight
Soon long day will turn to night
Sunset is beautiful but red like blood
And this fight shore cost a lot of blood
Warrior thinks of his lady back at home
She is now all alone
He has a break to visit her
For luck she gave him strand of her hair
What should he give her when her he’ll see?
What in this hell could be worth her beauty
He searches through the mist next morning filled with dew
Red fire blazing grass gives him a clue
Against still dark fire is eerie beautiful red
Not so beautiful but equally eerie is blood of the dead
But away from the flames in the morning fog
There is wild orchid towering above old log
The air around it is very dense
But the smell is different it awakens spirit sense
It’s not smell of powder or lead
For a brief second warrior forgets ordeal he just had
He picks up the flower from the center of battlefield
At that moment with new hope his heart is filled
Next day his lady he will see
As he gives her the orchid for a second he feels free
The orchid may fade but its soul will never die
Just like love soldier and his lady written in the sky
Beyond non linear equations there is universal balance
Beyond that divine counterbalance
The written law of that starts with physics and soul
Grows beyond all control
But one thing it will not grow beyond and that is the key
It is idea of destiny
But orchid seems to grow beyond destiny
And in that lies its beauty
Its mesmerizing majesty
And holding it for brief time every soldier and their family felt free
Oh wow. Oh great. Look over there. Quickly now. Come on. It is the mitigating migrating mammoth mansions. Brick by brick and bone by bone. In a line. Travelling. Traversing the plains, fields and mountains but not on roads for roads are neither natural nor normal so always wear a tea cosy hat when pouring tea at a tea party. It is to show not to shine that has the sun in a pondering and philosophical mood. The auric rays are neither a moon sitting in a tree nor are they a kayaking planetary alignment. High seas then create high teas. Whirling in circling dresses of spotted green. But never in a greenhouse does one find a tomato in a tantrum. For tomatoes are very very mild mannered especially when given a drink. And this is good for compost can be crafty and doesn't like moods. A wafer thin biscuit is a flat chested mermaid moving around at the dusk. By the marina. Catching a glimmer is easy for the eyes of the octopus in an office with high rimmed glasses. Circle then dash. Tick tick tick. Form done. Signed. Signatures separate stagnant stale stupors. And the fat wading brat bird yawns on a front bench in a large ornately decorated room. How common. And yet rather uncommon is the master of the seaweed sermon whose speakers are never wise upon answering questions and questions are rarely answered so why play noughts and crosses with a jute duty bug? Inheritance is not to be placed in a kissing box for boxes are to be reserved for tiny biscuits who march around chaotically chairing and chanting at quite important times. Thus causing a lot of little flowers to sigh and droop their heads in an apathetical style. In a scrapbook posy position. The layout is not the layer and the label is a laugh. Numeration of a numerator is a numerical nautical nonchalant nerd. And the beast of the best bank is not to be trusted with a styrofoam cup. No never gi e it that cup. Always give it a baby bottle. For it is ignorant and infantile. Beware of the two foot clam in that drawer then when you are putting socks away. Hahaha a mist is coming to play cards and monopoly with a tree top, a hill, a perfume factory, and a zoo. Hahaha dolphin and duet with a dancing seahorse at a grand opera. Xxxxx desensitization Z now eat a nice scone and sing la la la to a doorframe. Z peacocks.
Form:
Stashed with programs recorded, which, condensed on universal files
Will tell them very little of what they don’t know and may never know
In this lifetime or the next heaven, in this orbit or the next
Treasure from this Earth loaded up on classical chips, some kind of text
Even the quantum loads with memory mimetic, made to mimic the brane
Will lead you no where’s at all, empty, with your mind well past insane
For what else or beyond could be so crazy as to part from this precious earth
Without ever having known it’s cost, price, work, measure or stint of worth
And clearly, those who leave, when they leave, will not have known one grain
Of sand or soil, mud or toil: all dusty plows pluming billow-clouds into rain
Run on gasoline or stocks of mules, donkey, horse, or ram, shepperd’s hand
Fields from lost fields, turning wheat from grass, rice from blue water land
The mystery of death and birth still a mystery; life a mere reminiscence
Without any real light here or plant photometry, only luminescence
Imagine leaving this planet without every having known it’s rhythm
Going to some other world set in it’s own path, with it’s Keplerian hum
Beating out some different drum, set in a blinding sphere of light and sound
Like blended whiskey with the Irish; or Navajo, without the calendar round
Sans irony, the starmen will consult their astrologer or star-chart for this logic
Countin’ the days before they land again when the stars are [csmo]allo-genic
Since this cosmos has revealed no light to them, the starmen going forth
Eager to jump off of Earth’s orbital path, bend and trajectory
Their spacesuits, ships, tanks, sabres, and thrusters made from the factory
Everything printed like plastic in hazy glow and in false dimension
In light and low gravity, with false smiles and fat charms hanging in suspension
How could the new age begin completely unaware, one might ask ?
With no real knowledge of how the past one ended, without a task
This high level of dimness, this naivete, and ignorance unknowing
Much like blind men on the river styx, or perhaps, along with Homer rowing
Going from one ruse to harbour next shenanigan—look into the Cyclop’s Eye!
No land in Egypt and with Dido elope, with the Siren’s despair, intoxicants in Libya