Long Tighter Poems
Long Tighter Poems. Below are the most popular long Tighter by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tighter poems by poem length and keyword.
Charlotte
You were smiling at me
As you were looking right
Through him
Or were you
Looking right through me
As you were smiling at him?
False subtleties
From dew to dust
From dawn to dusk
All the things that you have to weave
I’m sure didn’t mean to deceive
Well I never really had a doubt
After all the things I found out
I can’t get out
Charlotte
Too caught up in the web you wove
In the lies you told
Head first for you I really dove
The web you spun
Right here where it all began
As I sing along
The cricket’s song
Just as I realized
Summertime can’t last forever
AsI hang onto something
a little tighter
I wondered if I
Should hold on to nothing
A little bit longer?
Your hourglass body
The bristly patch I crave
Too many things on my mind
So many past better left behind
That also told my woes to you
That is all I can do
No one can ever take your place
In my heart
Blood thirsty
Looking pretty
That’s all you do
Charlotte
I’d still like to believe
That you really
Didn't mean to deceive.
Abandoned and Forgotten
Days bleeding into nights
Shackled to the ticking of endless nights,
Silence screams, a chorus of lonely nights.
Shadows dance on walls, mocking and frights,
As seconds bleed into a lifetime of fearing of the future take.? Of what decisions shall I make? Loneliness etches itself into once-smooth skin, leaving lines of despair etched deep within.
Deserted halls echo with questions untold,
"Why?" "When? Where did it fold?
Years crawl by, chains of solitude
binding tighter still prolude,
Hope flickers faint, a dying ember's last fight,
Can dawn break through the gloom that chokes the air within its bloom?
Or am I destined to weather here in despair, buried in this affair in it's might?But there are no replies, only the ceaseless hum of empty lies, The mirror reflects a stranger's gaze, eyes hollow and haunted, a silent scream trapped within.
So let me seize that flame, fan it bright,
Banish the shadows that plague my sight.
I choose to rise above this prison of despair,
To seek the light, to breathe the healing air.
No longer bound by echoes of yesterday,
I'll forge ahead, come what may someday?
And though the path may wind and turn away,
My spirit stirs, ready to yearn another day, Everlasting this solitude of pain. the sun will rise again,
Guiding me towards a brighter horizon, a new begin.
Claws of solitude rip, unyielding,
Yet embers of defiance smolder willding.
Through suffocating shadows, a whisper persists within Familiar spaces twisted remonist by solitude's cruel whim.
"I will endure within?
Bonds of sorrow may constrict,
Though silken threads of memory restrict, entwine melodys of hearts shattered. Remembering what most mattered,
Shackled by time's relentless march,
Solitude's talons score and scarch.
Yet within this cell of shadow cast,
An ember sparks, defiantly vast.
Hoping this shall not be my last.
Tempest the rage of my past.
A tongue sheathed wields weight
heavier than any swung sword.
I learned to tuck my knives behind my teeth,
to swallow silence—make it my armor,
until my own words tasted bitter,
cold as iron.
There was a time I wanted to tell you
how I could break—
but truth isn't a gift, it's a weapon
in the wrong hands.
I remember that night at the kitchen table,
your eyes soft, waiting for my answer.
I wanted to show you the cracks you'd made,
but I pressed my lips tighter
until they hurt—I couldn't risk the violence
of my words.
Pressed lips became a gate,
my voice, the fortress—
a stone wall, no friendly opening.
~*~
Still and motionless, aye!
We prisoners in endless lockdowns lie.
Dreams of life, as it once used to be.
Days, sparkled with magnanimity.
When mouths were not gagged and children ran and played.
Those days, ah, never coming back, we live in media haze.
Now the chains grow yet heavier, yet tighter.
It's even hard to be a verbal fighter.
Punishment in wait for all who question.
How dare we disregard divine government direction?
People like me who speak and think for themselves,
In any form, our poems are read, but comments...shelved!
Truth telling is so very despised!
Punishment for anyone such as I, is always nigh!
Evil walks the earth disguised as good.
In all countries, all neighborhoods.
You cannot laugh true evil away.
For your tears, swell, in your eyes and your unique,
Godspeed Soul Bay.
We weep for the dead, but are we truly alive?
Life, still and motionless, in penumbrad, masked,
poioned lockdown disguise.
1-16-2021
~ 2~
Dedicated to all poets here, willing to take a stand for truth at the cost of being disliked. You write about it...You really impress me! Merci, blessings.
Written: April 19, 2024, For Robert James Liguori Contest
Inspired from the Lyrics Gettin' Tighter
4th contest placement winner
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As sun sets and darkness draws near,
Far-off I dwell, a thousand miles away, fear.
Embrace freedom; witness the band.
Stay calm as you lift your hand.
Rise and claim your spot in line.
Tightening with every winding whine
You profess to reside in a state of pure bliss.
As time oozes, it astringes most diss.
Relieve burden from your mind.
Indeed, it is tough to learn, I must remind.
Tones establish themselves in a feasible place.
A night it stretched wide, endless in its embrace.
Endless twirling, a dance of grace.
Nature slips away from your serene embrace.
One single thing that matters most is time.
Creating something is simple and sublime.
Let melodies soothe your soul.
Beneath moon, soft light is a goal.
Let it assist you escape from worldly strife.
A steady path where hurdles impede life.
An embrace, deep and true, with bass line.
Envelopes you, enhancing your shine.
Guitar melody echoes with yearning and sorrow.
Amidst twinkling stars, a cosmic canopy follows.
Musical notes oscillate and sway.
Amidst shadows, reverberate in the sky.
In symphony of silence, your eyes close.
It's just you and a beat for the night's rose.
A rhythmic pulse, soul to soul.
In this fleeting moment, you're a dole.
Of something genuine and complete.
Behold power of this dark street.
Throngs sway, and time is right.
Under gentle radiance of lowered light.
Each chord, each tune, in flawless balance.
We're all united beneath moon valance.
So, let any issues dissipate and fade away.
In melodies, your imagination may sway.
Vibes are fresh, and night is bustling.
That's what makes deep purple pummeling.
An orange trumpet vine in its beauty
Orange trumpet flowers bright intriguing
It grows reaches for the sun 'pon trellis' strong towers
So lovely and shady is its green vine drawing most humankind to climb
~~Climb until they reach its first level where other vines intwine
Vines intwined of such strength and beauty
One that is mixed in there is Passion Flower
Passion on this first level hasn't passed away
All vines honeysuckle, jasmine, poison ivy reach for the top
At the very top tangled vines wrap around healthy trees slowly choking
out the life
Strong vines cut into the outer bark getting tighter every year
Soon the inner being suffers crushing
By the strong vines which cut deeper, deeper and deeper each
years growing season
The trees who gave support are now overcome by a mass of flowery death
Tangled vines have overpowered
Their deceit and trickery has accomplished its death deeds
The tangled vines are at the top but the trellis of strength and support
Is about to topple
Sponsor: Constance La France
Contest: Tangled Vines
Written this Fourteenth Day Of July 2013
Parades are festive
They send a celebratory message
Protests have an evil look
Like they were run by a crook
Ranting
Chanting
Yelling and screaming
Confused definition lacking structure meaning
Anger released in this one way
“We are going to make the issue pay”
Strong voice overs sound really cool
But in reality the visual is a self-destructive tool
Sacrificial lamb
An interesting plan
Using the young at heart
Tell them to play the moral part
Only a for a few seconds will it be heard
Not caring how it will be talked about when referred
Money could start a revolution
That is not the solution
Study the subject matter
Accept the pitch as a well prepared batter
Answer the call
To strengthen understanding the law
Many sides a debate may contain
Simply put it is easy to complain
Take pen and paper in hand
And make the editorial stand
Words are a powerful device
An intellectual platform that is nice
When someone sits down and reads
They are relaxed thinking about the information feed
Unlike a theatric demonstrator
Displaying havoc in the tradition of a raider
Society needs creative communication as a lighter
Getting into situations being a fighter
After a published piece has run
Noting a philosophical pondering job is done
Police handcuffs are not the result
In bringing the argument to a halt
Conversation could have chatter
Escalating up a healthy ladder
Allowing the writer
To walk away sounding intelligent by making the guilt party’s noose tighter
Presenting on a stage where one shines brighter
In the heart of darkness, where silence reigns,
Stands a cabin in the woods, where terror remains.
A cursed abode, by nightmares enshrined,
Its walls whisper secrets of a twisted design.
Within its embrace, shadows dance in glee,
As moonlight struggles, to set them free.
Windows cracked, like fractured souls weeping,
Doors creak and groan, their secrets keeping.
The path leading there, overgrown and twisted,
Beckons the lost and the deeply afflicted.
Beware, oh wanderer, for your soul may be lured,
By the cabin's allure, where horrors are secured.
The floorboards cackle, beneath your timid feet,
Echoing the tales of those who met their defeat.
Through the corridors, whispers of anguish hiss,
As the cabin consumes all those who dare reminisce.
Ghouls lurk in corners, their eyes hollow and black,
Their haunting cries make sanity crack.
The air thickens with a putrid stench,
As you descend into darkness, inch by wrench.
Portraits on the walls, distorted and grotesque,
Reflect the essence of souls forever oppressed.
Their anguished faces twist and distort,
Leaving you breathless, your spirit contort.
In the attic, secrets slumber in decay,
Where specters awaken and spectacles betray.
The cobwebs cling like ethereal threads,
Binding you tighter as darkness spreads.
Outside, the woods writhe with eerie commotion,
Their ancient trees whisper a haunting devotion.
A symphony of terror, a chorus of dread,
As the cabin feasts on souls, ravenous and fed.
Escape is futile, hope fades in despair,
Within these walls, evil's grip is unfair.
Abandon all hope, as darkness unfolds,
In the cabin in the woods, where horror beholds.
So beware, brave soul, and heed my plea,
Steer clear of the cabin, forever be free.
For once you enter, your fate is entwined,
In the horrors that dwell in the depths of your mind.
i bleed out on a cold bed of grass,
gazing at the white moon twinkling through dark grey clouds.
i feel empty, completely drained of blood.
Will I ever feel again?
Will these wounds ever stop screaming?
I don’t want to keep living in a world
that keeps tearing at what’s left of me.
So I give myself to the moon,
let its pale light soak up
the pieces I can’t hold anymore.
i sink further into a pool of my own blood,
waiting for a word, a reason, one cloud to whisper hope.
the moon is all i have,
its divine glow, the last light on this dark midnight.
the moon whispers soothing words to me, through the breeze that is sliding between the trees,
gliding along the trembling grass,
landing in my ear.
led in this field,
slowing bleeding out from these wounds you left behind.
my mind teases me with the life i just lost,
the past moments now to be precious memories.
the same question sits there playing on my mind,
“why cant i just have the moon?”
all these wounds would be healed if i could just reach out and touch the moon,
if i could reach out, and touch you,
just like before,
when i held your hand in mine,
how i wish now i held on tighter, and longer,
how i wish i never let you slip out of my reach.
now this bed of grass holds my wounded body and comforts my extinguished soul, the way you longer can.
He, beseeching –
I raised my pleading eyes
as I saw you pass by.
You looked through me.
I was invisible.
My eyes searched
for understanding.
You did not say “I’m sorry.”
You busied your nose in your phone.
My thirst apparent yet
you offered nothing.
You clutched your coffee tighter
although you saw my want.
Your bagel a life-send,
you passed by imploring hands.
You turned away
from my entreating pain.
I, reproving –
Too late…to comfort you.
Too late…to buy your lunch.
Too late…to bring you coffee.
Too late…to listen to your stories.
Too late…to offer consolation.
Too late…to extend compassion.
Too late…to save myself.