Long Tartarus Poems
Long Tartarus Poems. Below are the most popular long Tartarus by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tartarus poems by poem length and keyword.
Freedom ~ an inked kingdom
of macabre mirrors,
a vermiform lie
veiling the vehement suffering
amidst serpent estuaries,
surging within strangled skin,
as if I am the living sin,
jinxed by the crawling creatures
in the lamented labyrinth
of deceitful dreams,
inhaling venomous vapors
rising from the cursed creeks
that failed to caress
the brittle bones of delirious dawn,
where the nocturnal owl
sits, phasing stellar phantoms
on tattered twigs,
oblivious to the piercing pain I breathe,
as poetry feels like
a somatic hallucination,
a reflection of the phoenix crescent,
a dialect the naive can never comprehend,
the voice of truth,
the jaded outline of mortality,
can never interpret~
as the last sacred light of twilight
r e m a i n s
unmarked and lost to the Earth.
O wicked wind beneath
the crestfallen wings
of cruising constellations,
will this piece of paper save me
from the maleficent violets
in the spitfire blaze
of stigmatized stars?
I am stuck ~ hell-bound,
troubled placing my
tongue on Freyja’s chalice of tears,
for I feel oblivion closer than death,
I taste the flames of Tartarus,
I dance with demons,
I sing to the malevolent moon,
I see in distorted dimensions.
But would the ignorant know
I hear beyond what’s spoken,
in search of Eden and love?
I give gratitude to your God,
but the veiled care not~
this is beyond the making
of a self-forged inferno.
I am the harbinger of harmony,
my soul aches
to paint your scarlet spheres
in butterfly bliss,
praying in secret
that the deviant daggers in my spine
would blossom into russet roses,
their petals ~ like an elixir
to my paranoid psyche,
paralyzed in the
catacomb chaos of insanity,
as the scorpion Sun
k i s s e s
me one more time
with sweetened poison.
While you,
the spectators of this twisted spectacle,
condemn my insomniac aura
to stain the essence of my existence
with condescending colors,
unaware that
introspection is a powerful weapon~
all blood is blue,
and we breathe hypocrisy
scrutinizing the unknown....
I stand in the swamp by the riverbank
clutching a coin I have stolen
as my heart still beats within my breast
It is only my spirit
that has slipped away
to await the ferryman of Acheron
Charon who
skillfully pilots his skiff
from there to where it flows
into Styx
He arrives and I pay the price
He places the coin in his pocket
and grabs hold of the pole
pushing away from the shore
as I lay indolent with lament
in the bottom of the boat
the icy chill of the water
seeping through the wood
Shivering I stare at the stars
silently weeping
remembering the many wishes
I made on them that went unrealized
unheard
for the Gods must have
found me unworthy
Cerberus will step aside to admit me
heads snarling
as the snakes on his back writhe
Hades will welcome me
Or he may hand me over
to be judged by Aeacus
and plunged into the pit of Tartarus
for my many sins
to be tortured for eternity
starved and beaten
my liver eaten by birds
May he have mercy on me
this sorrowful lost soul
for all I ever wanted
was to dance
carefree and content
to the music of miracles
in the golden flower filled
Elysian Fields forever
with you
"The Winter's Lullaby"
Choking noble light held by the hands of Fate
As deceived Persephone enters Hades gate
The burning suns falling through the universe.
Despairing and alone not a coppers worth
A bitter cold blankets Gaia's tears in a frozen sea of glass
While the stupefied intoxicated serpent drowned with a laugh.
Undulating sands barricades into immovable glacier,
Infectious prison walls destroyed the strength of redeeming savior.
Chariot of the flame plunges into the water’s bed
Fate’s tepid scarlet scissor hands sever the music thread
Astaea’s darkened soaked mural melts with eternal dread
Seeing red, alluring sirens sang as the music bled
Unfathomable lamented shrieks surged as the music tore
Obsidian tributaries erodes the forbidden door
Eros scorned wound feeds the ravished horde of succubi
Remote hollow temple bell wailed the closing cry
Captured in the dance of loves and hates tempest cyclone
Drums of madness orchestrates into the perfect tone
The infernal flame explodes from the mouth of Tartarus
Driven oblivion crescendos for the pending chorus
The stentorian cracks of nefarious shots being fired
Frantically gasping for the final breath of faith hope and desire
Tragic petrified tears from soundless screams of the choir
Condemned whisper of the drum crucified on barbed wire
Cold candle rests under the gaze of the vastness
No kiss or love to awake the entombed princess
Crimson emaciated curtains descend upon the floor
Fathomless, eviscerated, veiled; the music is no more
Form:
That Blessed Day
When the shuddering echo,
Of battle-cries vanish forever,
Under the victorious cheers
Of universal brotherhood,
When the cold murderous cannons,
Will be silenced by love,
And in their barrels singing birds
Build their nests,
When the cruel wounds,
Mercilessly inflicted by barbaric wars,
Be healed once and for all
By human compassion,
When the medals of honor,
Of today’s heroes,
Monuments of shame in the eyes,
Of the world appear,
When hatred and its siblings,
Are expelled from our kind hearts,
Thrown thus into the Tartarus
Of human condemnation,
When racial discriminations,
That divided us are obliterated,
By the sublime understanding,
Of our enlightened minds,
When upon the ravaged face
Of our long-suffered planet,
A place is found for each one of us
To live happily free,
That blessed day
Will be the first,
Among the endless number of days,
OF PEACE ON EARTH!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
27 February 1984
Before the Light of the Sun and the stars began to shine,
Dwelled the Winged Chaos, in pitch as darkened as red wine,
His companions were Nyx the Night, Erebus the Darkness,
And Tartarus the Abyss, the dungeon for wickedness.
Soon Night with black wings opened, laid a sterile egg inside,
The bosom of Darkness which existed far and wide.
From this strange egg came the beautiful Eros God of Love.
Who bore the Human race the first to see the light above.
Robert paced his room trying to summon enough courage,
To go to the dance, and ask for Leah’s hand in marriage.
He had loved Leah from first sight but had hardly spoken.
Tonight he felt that his lonely heart would rise unbroken.
Leah wore a pink taffeta ball gown and looked divine,
She flirted with all the boys with conversations benign,
As Robert come close to her she giggled and ignored him,
Robert took a deep breath and said “This is not just a whim,
But will you make me the happiest man and marry me?”
People in the hall erupted with laughter at his plea.
The crazy, loudest laugh came from Leah herself sadly,
And Robert ran from the hall into the wild storm madly.
In the darkness he walked lost and alone down the highway,
Eros with sun golden wings appeared at the break of day.
Please come with me my son and I will put your heart to rest,
The darkness came in and covered everything heaven blessed.
Did you hear!
It's quite near
Oh, I can feel your fear
Just lend me your ear
Try not to shed a tear
I have lost everything dear
What am I talking about?
Let's listen and figure out
A stab straight to the heart kills no doubt
That sound of a breaking
Depression has awakened
Behold what I'm making
It's my heart that has broken apart
I always felt it from the very start
Now it will be immortalized
In this piece of art
Sunshine turns to rain
Delight becomes an eternal pain
Feeding on this impermanent glee
And casting what's left of it
In the deep blue sea
What a monster is Depression
No form of expression
Can make this discussion
— About this Monster Depression —
As a small seed, it began
Eating me from the inside
Now that I'm a man
The tree grew high and wide
Buds of delight, delightful was their sight
They became deprived of light
It was taken away, the light of day
A mighty tree it stood
Smelling of drowsy death
Its sight alone would
Take into the air your quiet breath
It was worn twigs like thorns
For my tragic life, it mourns
I'm the bad guy
And you are the nice ones
The dark clouds in the sky
And you are the suns
My goodness was given to Hades
My heart is full of tragedies
Are they unknown to Thanatos?
Who will give them to the belly of Tartarus?
I want to change my tragic fate
But I'm too late, it's Death that I'll taste
It doesn't await, and has already opened its gate
Now let me welcome Death
Though it won't be my last breath.
Into the heart of darkness,
Viciousness and despair -
Into the very Tartarus -
Enters the prince of Air.
Ceiling is bleak and starless.
Nobody knows your name.
Inside the heart of darkness
Flickers an open flame.
Everywhere, creeps and scoundrels
Feeding upon the souls.
Under the heart of darkness,
Broken glass and coals.
Think that I might take flight, less
I also burn to death.
But through the heart of darkness
I must create a path.
Something ignites and startles
Amid the sulfur fumes.
Inside the heart of darkness
Torment of souls resumes.
Demons and fiends and gargoyles
Crowd me on every side
As through the heart of darkness
I take a tourist ride.
Skin catches fire and sparkles
And from it pours hot blood.
Within the heart of darkness,
Boiling and ruddy flood.
"Have you lost all your marbles?"
"If I did, would I care?"
Inside the heart of darkness
I can't tell here from there.
Place is unmapped and chartless.
All roads lead to Rome -
That is, to heart of darkness -
And from it rises foam.
Nothing is seen apart; yes,
Mirrors on every wall
Reflect the heart of darkness
At everyone and all.
Evil has many partners
And many a disguise.
Look in the heart of darkness
And train your ears and eyes.
You cannot tell apart us,
Me and the souls on fire.
It burns, the heart of darkness,
Outside, inside, and higher.
Where do I stand or start? Yes,
Write with a piece of chalk
Map of the heart of darkness
Upon a lotus stalk -
Lotus that, like most marvels,
Grows in the thickest mud
And through the heart of darkness
Reaches to heart of God -
There will be no more markers
Upon my path, as I
Burn through the heart of darkness
Into the open sky.
Aeneid Book 6: The Descent into the Underworld
by Virgil
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The Sibyl began to speak to Aeneas:
“God-blooded Trojan, son of Anchises,
descending into the Underworld’s easy
since Death’s dark door stands eternally unbarred.
But to retrace one’s steps and return to the surface:
that’s the conundrum, that’s the catch!
Godsons have done it, the chosen few
whom welcoming Jupiter favored
and whose virtue merited heaven.
However, even the Blessed find headway’s hard:
immense woods barricade boggy bottomland
where the Cocytus glides with its dark coils.
But if you insist on ferrying the Styx twice
and twice traversing Tartarus,
if Love demands you indulge in such madness,
listen closely to how you must proceed...”
Keywords/Tags: Virgil, Aeneid, descent, underworld, Aeneas, death, door, Jupiter, heaven, woods, Cocytus, River Styx, Stygian, Hades, Tartarus, voyage, journey, love, madness, god, gods
Unto Acheron, great river of woe,
the buried to the entrance gate are led,
in the underworld to Charon below
to ferry across the souls of the dead.
Upon your lips, your eyes, a coin receive,
a fare lest you be trapped between two worlds -
allowed to enter but never to leave
where the waters of oblivion purls.
Where Furies dwell and Hellhounds guards the gate
and souls are judged in Hades’s deathless reign -
to wander the Styx and Lethe in wait
till rulers of gods and men part us twain.
The Pit of Tartarus where the soul yields
or sweet blissful isles of Elysian Fields.
Written: May 2012
I googled "Hell Is Where You" and got
Hell is where you are.
Hell is where you watch me burn.
Hell is where you find it.
Hell is where you make it.
Hell is where you want to be.
Hell is where you keep my heart.
Hell is where you're headed.
Hell is where you go when you die.
Hell is where you're supposed to be.
Hell is where you belong.
Hell is where you wind up.
Hell is where you don't want to be.
Hell is where you'd rather go anyway.
Hell is where you're sent for eating clams.
Hell is where you came from.
Hell is where you meet the person you could've been.
Hell is where you set celery on fire and shove it up your ass.
Hell is where you begin.
The stupidest one:
Hell is where you go to unite self-assertion and self-deception with its original source
My favorite:
Hell is where you hang your hat.